A/N: Just a little changeup, the authors note is now at the beginning instead of the end (duh!). This chapter is a lot longer than the previous ones, even managing to beat the very first chapter (the longest one so far) in length. I might have been able to squeeze this into two smaller chapters, but I've been getting stingy lately and I wanted to reward the faithful readers. Keeping that note, I want to thank everyone for reviewing, and I anxiously await hearing your opinions on this chapter, so don't forget to review.
One more thing (nothing more than a shameful plug, really), I have added another Resident Evil story at the same time as this one. That is why the wait for this one has been so long. I had this idea I just had to get out of my head before continuing and I completed it a few days before completing this chapter. Just head to my Author's Page and check it out if your interested.
That said, enjoy the latest chapter of Last Man Standing.
Chapter Ten— The Hunt on 42nd Street
In the distance, the hotel was clearly visible, stretching into the night sky. The night had masked its formal beauty, but it was still magnificent. Lights outlined the edges of the hotel, framing it in a delicate radiance. Josh thought he could stand where he was and stare at it all day. His mind became enraptured with its soft brilliance. He could have stood there until the equally beautiful sun made its climb over the horizon. He could have easily done that, but the hotel also seemed to call to him. Its glow beckoned Josh to it, like a moth to the flames, but that wasn't exactly right. No, it was guiding Josh and his company towards safety, not death. Like the north star that guided the three wise men to their savior.
The sextet grew closer and closer to the tall tower. They were still blocks away, but its very presence seemed to be reassuring. It was the end of the line, the thin strip of paper that separated the runner from the end of the race, from the win.
xXxXx
Zack sighed with relief when he saw the building up ahead. He glanced back and noticed that the zombies that had chased them for so long were gone. He wasn't sure of the exact "when" they had decided to move onto other things, nor did he care. They were gone, and Zack and his friends were safe. That was all that mattered.
The building wasn't the Lux Cher hotel, but it was a welcome sight anyway. It was the music shop, so lovingly referred to as the MUSIC JUNKIE STORE. They had stopped here on the way to the concert, and it only made sense to stop on the way back. Funny how things had a way of repeating themselves.
"Looks familiar," Zack said out loud sarcastically.
"Sure does," Josh said with almost no tone in his voice.
It was the first time any of them had said anything since dragging Terry to his feet. The group had remained dead quiet, and it bothered the singer very much. Part of it was from the fact that with no talk amongst the members it became far too easy to hear the screams in the night. There were far less of them (still, there was more of them then gunshots) now, and that made everything worse. The thought of him and his friends being the last of the last didn't bode well in Zack's mind. It was a cancerous thought with no real point at all. All it did was destroy your hope, effectively destroying the rest of you as well.
The other unsettling part of the silence was the particular fact of how the silence had been made. It had all arisen from Terry's fall and declining health. Zack was sure the others (definitely his brother, at least) were racking their brains with questions of why Terry had fallen like that. How had he gotten so sick? What's wrong with him? Will he be okay? And other questions of those sorts.
The worst part of it was, Zack knew all the answers.
He had been bitten by a zombie.
He was turning into a zombie.
And, of course, no, he will not be okay. He's going to turn and we won't be able to do anything about.
That pretty much answered all the questions, yet he kept the answers to himself.
Ever since discovering that horrible secret at the antique shop, the secret had been wanting to jump from his lips on more than one occasion. He had almost spilled the beans when Josh had asked him what was wrong back at the antique shop, and as he carried Terry with help from his brother, the secret had been ready to slip at any moment. He had worked himself up over how to talk to his brother about the situation (he couldn't even imagine how to break it to Terry) on plenty of occasions, but every time he was ready to open his mouth, he kept it snapped shut. He couldn't say anything because any conversation he would have with his brother would have to pass through the ears of the giant between them. Zack didn't want Terry to know just yet; he wasn't sure how he'd handle it.
What was he supposed to say anyways? "Hey guess what, Josh? Terry's going to turn into one of the zombies and we're going to have to shoot him." Yeah, real sound plan.
"We should stop," Josh said. "Terry's in no condition to be moving around right now, and at least the place is familiar."
"Yeah," Zack agreed. "Besides this fat, lazy bastard is starting to get heavy. Wish he'd stop being a wimp and walk by himself."
Terry managed to flash a weak smile at the singer that made Zack feel worse. The whole point of the joke was to relieve the tension, but that smile destroyed it. It was the smile of a defeated man, the smile of someone who is seeing the last of their days. "Lazy, huh? Thought you were just being a good Samaritan, but if I'm that much of a burden, I can walk." There was an awkward silence. "After all, maybe you're right. Maybe this fat ass needs to walk and lose a few pounds."
"Don't be ridiculous," Zack said, readjusting Terry's weight on his shoulder. "We're going to stop here anyway. Make no sense for you to walk from here. Besides, after your rest, you can carry me to the hotel. It'll be a far trade, don't ya think?"
Terry laughed then put his hand out as if to shake. Zack looked surprised, but he took it anyway and shook it a few times. He didn't really enjoy the fact that Terry's grip was so weak. It was like shaking hands with a toddler. You had to be careful when you gripped them otherwise they could move away with a few broken fingers.
"You got yourself a deal," the security guard said as Zack shook his hand gently.
Drew grabbed the door handles and held the door open for everyone.
Zack graciously gave a nod of thanks as he helped Terry through the door. Josh and him brought the security guard's large body over to the front counter. The cash register was open and bone dry, and Zack didn't have to ask wonder where the money went. There were some miscellaneous pamphlets on the desk. One was jet black and said in bright red letters, "MEET LAST MAN STANDING TODAY!"
Zack knocked these on to the floor with little concern. As far as he was concerned, there was no Last Man Standing anymore. How could there be one when they were missing their guitarist, one of the best men of the world in Zack's eyes? Just looking at the band name made Zack angry. He wanted nothing more than to burn those pamphlets, letting the fire erase their words.
Terry gave a deep grunt when Josh and Zack set him down, but other than that, he did not complain.
"How ya holding up?" Josh asked with notable concern in his green eyes.
"Could be better," Terry grunted. He paused before looking up at the brothers with another weak smile. "Could use a beer though."
"Don't think this is the best time for that pal," Josh said, returning the smile.
Zack turned his attention away from the two and looked at their surroundings.
The place had changed considerably. CD's littered the floor. Some of the cases had been smashed, sending chunks of reflective plastic all over the floor. The tiny glimmering slivers reminded Zack of broken glass. One whole self had been completely toppled over. Perhaps the strangest thing though was the absence of music. When they had first came into the store, music had been playing in the background, but the hard rock that had been playing before was replaced by complete silence. Not for the first time, Zack wished for some normal noise, something he had heard before everything had gone to hell.
Zack opened his mouth, about to talk about how quiet the place was, when someone cut him off.
"Hey! Shouldn't we be moving?" Steve spoke up, but his voice was far from questioning. It was challenging. "Those things are still after us!"
Josh turned, looking sternly at the man. "No," he said simply. "We stay here." With that said, Zack's brother just turned his attention back to Terry. He was using some t-shirts to make a make-shift bandage around Terry's chest, which had started to bleed and spill pus again.
"I'm serious," Steve said, raising up. He moved closer to Josh. "I don't want to be here when those things come back."
"Too bad," Josh said without looking at the older man. "We're staying here, end of discussion."
"And who put you in charge?" Steve objected. Zack saw the man's hands curl into fists, and he realized what was going on.
Josh realized it too. He turned around and looked at Steve with a mix of shock and anger. "So this is what it's about, huh? You have to prove you're the alpha male?" He paused, looked down at the boy who stood behind Steve. "Sure that's the best idea?"
Zack sighed. He knew his brother all too well. How many occasions had Josh and he fought before? It was hard to tell, but what he had fought him enough to know when Josh was getting serious.
Steve gulped. Zack could tell the man hadn't been expecting to put on the spotlight in such a way. Must have thought Josh would just let him do what he wanted, Zack thought with dry humor. Now he's going to find out how wrong he was.
Josh didn't wait for Steve answer, he was already talking. "You'd like to just keep moving, wouldn't you? Well, too fucking bad." he pointed over to Terry. The security guard was sitting on the counter weakly, but he was watching the scene with interest. "Something is wrong with my friend. He's sick, and he's having a little trouble moving around right now. So we're going to rest. Got it?"
Steve moved closer to Josh so that they stood almost chest to chest. Josh stared down at Steve. Though Steve was older, Josh was bigger. Zack was pretty sure he knew who would come out on top if fists started being swung.
"Those things are getting closer," Steve hissed through his teeth. Zack wondered where the man had gotten the courage to stand up to Josh like this. Throughout the entire time Zack had been with him, the man had seemed afraid of his own shadow, yet here he was, challenging a man who was stronger than him for authority. "We can't stay here and just wait for them to slaughter us."
"They aren't going to slaughter us. We're safe here."
"But for how long?"
"We're staying until my friend is ready to move on."
"No, we're leaving."
"We're staying."
"Fuck you and you're friend. We're going!"
Zack saw his brother curl his hand into a fist and that was when things turned noticeably south. Josh shoved out with both of his hands. Zack wasn't sure if he had intended for Steve to go down, but the man had. Steve waved his arms in large circles in an attempt to stay balanced, but it was fruitless. He toppled over and landed roughly on his back. Zack heard an audible whoosh of air shoot from Steve's mouth.
Zack expected his brother to use this opportune moment to jump on top of Steve and beat the shit out of him, but his brother didn't. He only stood there, looking down at the man with an intense gaze.
"You know why you want to leave?" Josh asked in a powerful voice. Zack knew this as what he referred to as his brother's "pissed off voice." Steve didn't answer; he only looked up at the drummer with eyes that seemed to widen to twice their normal size. "It's because you're a fucking coward!" Josh continued. "You just wanna keep going and act like my friend isn't hurt over there. For all we know he could be dying, yet you wanna keep moving— you selfish bastard. You don't care about any of us. You just care about your own damn self! That's how you're a coward.! You just wanna run because that's what cowards do. They fucking run!"
He paused, breathing heavily from his tirade. He looked Steve up and down once before turning his back and walking over to Terry. The fire had left his belly, but he wasn't finished talking.
"Go," Josh spoke softly— a welcome change from the incensed tone he had used earlier. "If you're really worried that much about those things out there, just leave. Save your own skin at least, right?" He turned back now, looking Steve straight in the eyes. "Just don't expect any of us to follow you." There was a pause, then Josh delivered the last verbal punch. "We're not cowards."
Those last three words were like a KO punch. Steve stood back up and walked away slowly towards a corner. To Zack he looked like a stray dog walking away with its tail between its legs, a dog that had been beaten for that little scrap of food by a stronger dog. The man passed by Zack without a word. The singer could see a fire brewing in the man's eyes, and Zack had a hunch this wouldn't be the last time the two tussled.
Zack watched the two of them separate, and for a second it seemed like some strange force had left the air. It was strange how the tension had built up between the two, seeming to form a wall of electricity between them. However, now that the crisis had been absolved, the strange feeling in the air had vanished. That was good.
Josh moved back to Terry, but the security guard waved him off, mumbling something Zack couldn't hear. His heart gave a ring of pain at the sight of the man. He couldn't imagine what the man was going through, and it was at that moment that Zack decided to tell the man what was going on. He had a right to know, after all. The more Zack thought about it, them more he realized that if their positions had been switched, he would want Terry to tell him exactly what was going on.
He took a deep breath and moved towards the duo.
"Hey, Terry," he called out amiably, and it was the first time (at least that he could think of) where he had to act like he was happy. "How ya holding up?"
"I keep telling your stubborn brother that I'm fine," he grunted back. "Damn fool won't believe me."
Zack looked over at his brother, who was listening to some music at a sample station. Right now, he seemed totally engrossed in the music, or maybe he was deep in thought. Somehow, Zack knew it was a combination of the two. Most of the time, when Josh liked to think deep and hard about something, he listened to music. It was very much like the way some monks would meditate by a babbling brook. For that, in essence, was what Josh was doing, meditating.
"Yeah, he can get like that," Zack agreed. He looked around once more, figuring out the location of everyone. Drew had moved over to Steve and Michael, and the three of them sat conversing. Zack smiled inward at the sight. Drew was trying to smooth things over with the man, and God love him for trying. Though, Zack had a hunch nothing Drew would say would change the man's mind.
When he saw that no one was in earshot, he turned back to the security guard. "Listen," he said in a hushed voice. "I got some potentially upsetting news for you."
This got Terry's attention fast. He sat up, wincing at the pain, and looked gravely at the singer; all business. "What is it?"
Zack sighed. Here was the tricky part. All this time he had fought so hard to keep the secret a secret, yet here he was, ready to spill his guts and he couldn't say the words! Talk about irony. The words fumbled around in his mouth, but he eventually got it out.
"I think…I think you might turn into one of them."
Terry sighed, looked over at the window (the shades were drawn as to not attract the attention outside, alive or otherwise) then looked back at the singer. "I had a feeling something like this would happen, but how do you know for sure?"
"The shopkeeper at the antique store. When I went downstairs to get the keys from him, he got back up." Zack's mind began drifting, reliving the experience one more time. It was something he would never forget, not even if he lived to be one-hundred years old.
"I can still remember how cold the man was. I mean, I was reaching in his pocket and I felt his leg. It had already gone cold." He looked at Terry with a questioning look. "Can you believe that? Not even fifteen minutes and the body had gone cold." He shuddered slightly, nothing more than a light and quick shake, but he felt it nonetheless. "I found the keys and walked away, happy to be done with it, but he got back up. I didn't take more than three steps before I heard that damn moaning." He paused, looked around once more to make sure no one was looking then continued. "He…or it, I'm not even sure anymore, tried to bite me, and I pushed it down to the floor and stomped on its head."
While he said this, Terry said nothing. He only looked intently at Zack, seeming to absorb every word. "So it is true, then," he finally spoke when Zack was done.
Zack saw the downtrodden look on his friend's face and attempted to dissolve it. "You know, you were only scratched. You could be fine. You know, your body could fight it off."
"Nice try," Terry said. "But I can feel it in me. I know I'll turn. I just know it, but I don't know when." H stopped and fixed Zack with the most intense stare the singer had ever seen. It almost looked like Terry had lost his mind. "If I turn, I want you to put me down. For my own good."
Zack only stared wide-mouthed. Finally, he understood and nodded his head slowly. "I'm not going to enjoy it, but I'll do it."
It is what I would want too, Zack realized. It's much better to be dead than be one of those rotting things. It's better to stay dead.
There was an awkward silence between the two, and Zack hated it. However, there was nothing he could do about it; he couldn't think of anything to say. It was Terry who spoke up again.
"You tell the others yet?"
"No, I thought you should know first."
"Good, good. I don't want to scare the others, so if at all possible, we should keep this between us."
"Right," Zack nodded in agreement.
"I don't want to think how Josh would take it, nor would I want to see how that Steve guy would handle it. He'd probably put a bullet in me right now and save us the trouble."
Zack said nothing, he only nodded his head slowly in agreement.
xXxXx
"I think it's time we got a move on," Josh said finally. He looked over at Terry as if to confirm this, and the security guard nodded in agreement. Everyone rose up silently and grabbed their weapons. The sound of safety's being flicked off filled the air.
Josh moved towards the front of the store. The windows had had their shades drawn and Josh looked peeked through them curiously. It was dark out and he couldn't see much, but under the few streetlights that still managed to work, he saw packs of zombies moving under them.
Can't go this way, Josh thought simply. Unless we're suicidal.
"Going to have to go out the back," he announced to the rest of the group. He moved towards the back of the store and the others followed. Josh was surprised to see Steve helping Zack carry Terry's form towards the back. Maybe he had been wrong about Steve. Maybe Steve was just trying to help out.
Above the door was a red neon EXIT sign. Josh placed his hands on the metal bar used to open it, yet he didn't push it open right away.
What if there's more of them out there? he questioned. It could be like the gas station all over again. We could be walking into more of them.
What other choice do we have? It's now or never. Josh took a deep breath before pushing the door open, rather roughly too as to knock out any zombie standing on the other side.
As soon as the door was opened, Josh stepped back, raising his handgun. He was met by nothing but the chilling air. "All clear," he said quietly before stepping out. The others followed him into the alley.
They followed the alley, walking slowly. Josh kept expecting something to leap out at him from behind a dumpster, but nothing came. That was a relief, but the sight at the end of the alley was not.
The left the alley for 42nd Street, and this was where the deaths seemed to have taken their highest toll.
"Jesus," Josh heard someone say softly behind him. He recognized the voice, but he couldn't place it. His mind was too focused on the grisly sight before him.
Bodies lay strewn about on the asphalt, turning the black and gray to red. It almost looked like it had rained blood on everything. The bodies themselves had been torn apart so viciously that most of these people wouldn't even be able to be recognized by their own mothers. Deep gashes were imbedded in their bodies, and bite marks littered the victims flesh. From all the blood and body parts it looked like someone had dumped all these bodies into a combine. Just looking at it made Josh want to vomit, but he managed to hold it down.
Here, everything was beyond real, almost surreal. It was some twisted nightmare come to life, and the worst part of it was, he could sense it. He wasn't just seeing it with his eyes: he could smell the rotting stench of human decay, he could hear the screams of torment and agony, he could taste death in the air and it clung to the roof of his mouth. The urge to vomit grew stronger— it was the strongest urge he had ever felt in his life— yet he kept it controlled again. Some others weren't as lucky.
Steve had thrown up. His stomach was empty already, but his body was still trying to heave up some more. All that came up were dry, retching heaves. Zack stood silent, still supporting Terry while Steve tried to take control of his stomach again. Drew had grabbed a hold of the kid, Michael and was steering him away from the massacre.
"It's so bad," Josh spoke softly, barely above a whisper. "But we got to keep moving." He walked forward, his legs protested at first, but once he got it started it seemed like they couldn't stop. He looked up at the night sky, just trying to find something to look at besides the blood. They were finally on the home stretch. Up ahead, he could see the hotel, standing tall and breathtaking in the nighttime sky.
Behind him, the others followed.
He trudged through the war zone that had once been a street. . He was careful not to step in any puddles (of blood, Josh reminded himself) and he steered around the corpses. He didn't even dare to set his gaze on their faces. He knew these faces would only show pain and suffering, and their eyes would stare straight into the very being of his soul. He tried to keep his eyes locked onto the hotel, but he couldn't help but see the slaughter.
Josh's eyes didn't avoid the bloody mess, they absorbed it. He saw every graphic detail. He saw the eyes of the corpses— some blue, some green, and some brown— staring out of their sockets. He saw the matted blood on their clothes and in their hair. He even saw the dirt and blood that was stuck under the corpses fingernails.
To his left, he saw a lone finger laying on the ground. The finger was uncurled and it seemed to point directly at Josh, accusing him. It was like he was at the theatre again.
You didn't save any of us, the finger seemed to say. It's all your fault that these people are dead. Josh knew that was impossible. After all, how was he responsible for all these people? How could he have saved them? The simple answer was: he couldn't. However, to the finger, it didn't matter.
All your fault, the finger whispered. It's always your fault, and it always will be. You couldn't' save anyone, and you never will. Everyone in your group is going to die, and it will be your fault. Always your fault.
Josh didn't argue with the finger, he knew it would do no good. After all, it was just an inanimate object; it couldn't really speak to him. Josh wondered if he was going insane. In truth, he wouldn't be surprised.
A dead body lay next to the finger (hands full of all ten digits, making Josh wonder where the mysterious finger came from) with its necks ripped open. Josh's eyes sunk into the image and he swore he could see the bone inside the neck, glistening in the pale street light. His feet plodded through a puddle of crimson liquid. How much of that is water? And much of that is blood? he wondered.
So many. Could they really have killed so many? Thoughts raced through Josh's head faster than the bullets in his gun seemed to travel. They didn't even eat all of them. They just took out pieces and chunks. And now, there's no one left but us. It was huge exaggeration, seeing how it was impossible that everyone in the city had been on 42nd Street at that time, but there was some truth behind the belief. There had been a great loss in human life tonight (but a great increase in inhuman life tonight, Josh bitterly thought), but everyone couldn't be dead. Not yet, at least.
As the group moved slowly through the carnage, a thought occurred to Josh. There were no zombies here. With that came the realization that zombies must not have done this damage. Maybe some of the bite marks belonged to some passing zombies, but these people certainly hadn't been killed by the undead creatures. The slash marks were too deep and wide to be made from human hands. Whatever had done this had been packing some decent claws to do damaged like this. But what could have done this? Josh questioned. He would soon get his answer.
The group had managed to pass half the distance from the record store to the hotel before they were attacked again.
Josh noticed that bodies seemed to be thinning, and he sighed with relief. The worst was over, or so he believed.
He couldn't have been more wrong.
They passed an overturned station wagon which seemed to have exploded some time ago. That was when Josh heard a new noise he hadn't heard before. There was a high pitched animalistic shriek before something leapt from one of the buildings and onto the street before Josh.
The figure landed gracefully, even though it had fallen from a height better than twenty feet. In the pale moonlight, Josh could see very detail about this new creature and it made his skin crawl.
It almost looked like a gorilla. Except, it was covered in shimmering green scales that belonged to a reptile. Its face looked reptilian as well. Its eyes glowed red like embers, and these embers stared directly into Josh's own eyes. It reared back, letting loose another piercing shriek. The sound was even worse up close. Josh's eardrums seemed ready to explode, and he had to put his hands to his ears to block out the screech.
The creature then leapt directly at Josh, slashing its eight inch claws at him. Josh didn't think— didn't even have time to think. He raised his gun and prepared to shoot his gun. Before he could get off a shot there was a resounding BOOM! and the beast was blown backwards by an unseen force.
"Back off from my brother," Zack spat viciously, stepping up next to Josh. He pumped an extra round into his shotgun and trained it on the creature's form, just in case it got back up.
Josh stood there amazed at how close he had come to dying. Just a little slower, he thought. And I would have been sliced to ribbons. That things claws were like knives! How could something like that even exist?
The creature in question started to writhe in pain on the ground. It rolled over onto its stomach and tried to crawl away. This time, Josh's gun did fire, and the demon laid still.
"What the fuck was that!" Steve yelled behind Josh. The drummer only shook his head. Suddenly, more feral cries pierced the air, causing Josh to look up into the night sky.
"I don't know," he said finally. "But if you don't wanna find out, we better hurry."
Another figure jumped in front of the group, attempting to seal off their escape, but Josh was already a step ahead. He raised his handgun and fired three shots. They did nothing to the demon. Its body shook from the shots, but that was the only effect the bullets had on the nightmarish creatures. Determined to kill the thing, Josh tucked the handgun in his belt and pulled out the magnum. He fired one shot (it was all it took) into the neck of the creature. Thick blood spilled from the wound, and the creature toppled to the ground, writhing much like the one before had.
"Hurry up!" Josh yelled. Another of the demons charged at him and he had time to wonder where all of them were coming from before firing the gun. The creature's skull blew apart into a blood and bone shards.
He stopped and spun around. The others moved by him quickly. Drew was leading the way, magnum drawn, and Zack and Steve were following, supporting Terry between the two. Behind all of them was Michael. Josh felt a pang of sorrow for the poor boy. It was one thing to see creatures like these at Josh's age, but at the kid's age, it must be traumatizing.
Josh watched them go by then refocused his attention to the creature's charging up the hill at them. He pulled the trigger, sending a bullet through the eye of another beast. As the creature fell to the ground, Josh turned and followed his companions.
The cars and buildings on the side of the street became a blur as he rushed after his friends. Another demon came charging at him, emerging from its hiding spot in a darkened alley. Josh fired at it, but the shot sailed wide. It leapt into the air, teeth and claws gleaming in the moonlight. Josh saw what it was doing, and he leaped to the side, dodging what would surely have been a lethal blow. He fired the last shot in the chamber of his magnum directly at the things hideous face. He grimaced as the skull exploded.
He chased after his friends, putting in another speed loader as he did so. He was running out of ammo for this gun fast. This was his last load. After it ran out, he'd have to resort to his handgun— not the most pleasant of ideas.
Ahead of him, Zack fired his shotgun into the chest of one of the beasts, sending it to the ground. Drew had taken out his magnum as well and was using it to punch holes in the heads of the nightmarish creatures. Michael and his father stayed close together and fired their own handguns madly into anything that got too close. Josh was more than surprised to see that they were managing to bag a few demons of their own.
They were getting closer now. They were almost to the entrance of the hotel. From there, they'd have to run through the garden then they'd be in the lobby, home free. Or so Josh hoped.
It didn't take long for them to be running on the cold, wet grass of the garden instead of hard cement. The hotel doors were close, close enough for Josh to see the pale light inside the lobby.
Yes! he thought ecstatically. We're here! We're safe!
All that hope quickly faded when he saw Drew try to open the doors. They didn't budge. They were locked out of the hotel with demons from hell chasing them.
"Open them, damn it!" Josh yelled as he ran up to the group, the creatures still in hot pursuit.
"Can't!" Drew yelled hysterically, and Josh could see the bassist was almost in tears. "Damn power's out! Doors won't open!"
So close, Josh thought dismayed. We go through all this hell to get here, only to be locked outside and torn apart by some skinless gorillas with eight-inch claws. It just isn't fair!
"Wait," Terry said weakly. "There's gotta be a back door. Something so you can get into the kitchen."
"Go then! Go!" Josh yelled. He turned around, ready to fire his gun to give his companions some more time. One of the creature's charged at him and he fired coldly into its skull, obliterating its head. The panic he had originally felt had been replaced by grim resolve. He would protect his friends. He wouldn't let anything happen to them. He had already failed Adam and the others, but he wouldn't fail them.
He followed the others, but he made sure none of the demons got too close. Five more shots, five more creatures dead.
The group turned around the corner of the building, and Josh nearly wept with joy. There was a door there, and it was already slightly jarred open.
Thank God! he thought. We can make it!
At the sight of the door, Drew slowed down and helped Zack carry Terry. Steven and Michael made it to the door safely. They turned around and guarded the others with their handguns.
Josh turned as well, ready to protect the other three so that they'd get inside safely. He was willing to risk his own life if necessary. He was willing to die to slow down these devils.
He watched one of the creatures get in range, and he fired. The gun clicked empty.
"Damn it!" he cursed. In his excitement of finding a way in, he had forgotten that he had used the last of his magnum ammo. He looked up, and he saw the creature's red eyes grow with excitement. It was like the creature saw Josh's moment of weakness and was overjoyed from it. It shrieked (sounding ecstatic to Josh) as it leapt into the air, closing the distance by a good ten feet in a single bound.
The monster fell upon Josh, knocking him off of his feet. He brought up his hands in an attempt to defend himself, and luckily his hand grabbed the creatures throat, stopping it from closing its jaws around his own neck. The creature's fetid breath washed across his face, smelling strongly of chemicals and blood. Josh gagged, but he didn't let his grip weaken— he couldn't afford to do such a thing, it'd mean sure death.
While one hand was occupied, he used the other one to reach for the handgun tucked away in his belt. Before he had a chance to grab the gun, a foot was flung into the ribs of the creature, kicking it off of him.
Josh looked up and saw Zack standing over him. His brother fired a buckshot right into the head of the demon that had pinned Josh down just a second ago. The creature's face seemed to cave in on itself, spraying blood and white fragments of bone and teeth.
"Need some help?" Zack asked almost casually. He reached down and offered Josh a helping hand. Josh took it without question.
"Thanks," Josh said when he was standing again.
"No problem," Zack said. They were interrupted by another screech. He nodded towards the door. "After you."
Josh tucked the magnum back into his waistband as he ran. The gun may have ran out of bullets already, but that didn't mean he couldn't get some more. He pulled out his handgun with the same motion. It might not do much to those skinless gorillas chasing him, but it was better than punching them with his fists.
Another feral cry pierced the air, and Josh looked back. Another one of the demons leapt, seeming to take flight. He saw its teeth and claws gleam in the moonlight, and he realized he couldn't dodge this one. Those claws were going into him whether he liked it or not.
Before the claws could strike, a set of hands— human hands— shoved Josh roughly, pushing him to the side. He fell in a pile, shaken and confused at what just happened. He looked up with puzzled eyes, seeing everything, yet wishing he hadn't.
His brother stood where he had been, grappling with the demon. A side of his combat jacket had been torn apart from the creature's claws and blood spilled onto the green grass. Zack was standing up, though. His shotgun was placed horizontally across the beast's neck, halting the progress of its mouth. The beast drooled on the gun, and the saliva fell from it in thick strands to the grass below.
"Zack!" Josh called out, still laying on the cool grass. He raised his gun to fire, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. From his angle, it would be impossible to hit the creature; he would only hit his brother.
"Get out of here!" Zack called. There was no pain to his voice, to Josh's surprise. There was anger there, but most of all it was authority. Zack understood what he was doing, and he didn't regret it. Josh could tell that just by the sound of his voice. "I can take care of myself! I'm a big kid now!"
"No!" Josh yelled back. Tears had already began to sting his eyes. "No one has to die!"
He moved forward to help his brother out, but someone grabbed onto him, pulling him towards the door, towards safety while his brother was content with staying outside. Josh flailed his arms, freeing himself, but more hands grasped his arms, pulling him in.
"Damn it! Let go!" he screamed, trying his best to free himself. Suddenly, his feet were no longer in the dewy grass but instead, solid ground. He vaguely realized he was now in the kitchen. He saw Zack still struggling with the creature as the steel door shut, blocking him from his brother.
"No!" he screamed one last time, but there was nothing more he could do. He was locked inside, his brother outside. He was in safety, but his brother had been damned to stay outside in hell, to stay outside and be torn apart. Josh wished he could trade places with his brother. He would give anything to do that.
xXxXx
Zack gritted his teeth and pushed off with all the strength he could muster. The monster was pushed back a little bit, but its clawed feet quickly re-found their purchase in the soft ground. The creature's hot breath washed over Zack, gagging him.
Get a tic-tac, bud, Zack thought, but didn't dare speak. All of his strength was being devoted to keeping this demon from piercing its incredibly sharp fangs into his neck. The claws themselves had proven to be dangerously sharp. He had found that out first hand. Surprisingly, there was very little pain in his side. At first, it had been excruciating, but then it had quickly numbed over. Now, he only felt a light sensation of pain. Almost as if it was coming from miles away.
Just a flesh wound, he thought, thinking of the Black Knight from that famous movie, bringing a thin smile to his lips.
Behind him, the door swung shut, and Zack could breathe a sigh of relief. They were safe. That was what was important. He looked over the shoulder of the beast and saw more of the skinless gorillas charging towards the wrestling duo. He was running out of time.
Trying a different approach, Zack dropped to the ground, letting the creature's own momentum carry itself over him. The creature let out a surprised squeal before he turned around and gave it a slug to the face.
Now that he was free, he reloaded his shotgun and pumped it. He turned defiantly towards the pack of demons charging at him. They grew closer, yet Zack didn't shoot. He watched them charge, waiting for the first one to leap into the air, but not one of them did.The group of creatures moved around him, surrounding all three hundred and sixty degrees. He turned slowly, trying to keep his eyes on all of them at once. They began making a low purring noise that sounded to Zack remarkably like on of his cats at home. A few snarled and bared their sharp teeth, yet most made that low croaking purr.
"Bring it!" he finally yelled, calling them out as he pumped another round into his shotgun. "Let's see how many of you bastards I can take to hell with me!"
The battle cry seemed to excite them, and they attacked. He saw movement in the corner of his eye and turned, firing into the gut of one of the creatures. Another leapt at him from the air. He ducked under it and turned, swinging the butt of his gun into the chin of another.
The group swarmed around him. Zack thought back at the times he had been in situations like these. One time had been in a mosh pit at a Slayer concert. That had been the biggest pit he had been in, and all he remembered from it was the stence of sweat and blood in the air and the bodies that seemed to be comnig from everywhere at once. LEtting his mind go back to that day, Zack did what came naturally for him: he went into a frenzy. He moshed.
The whole fight only lasted about thirty seconds, yet to Zack, it seemed like almost half an hour. Time seemed to slow to a crawl and he noticed everything that happened. The air was filled with snarls and cries of pain. A claw found its way to his arm, slicing deep groves into his bicep. He winced in pain and returned the favor to the creature, obliterating its face. Another set of claws went deeper into his back. He fell to the ground, rolled quickly, and saw another claw dig into the moist earth where his head had just lain. The shotgun kicked in his hands as the creature was thrown backwards from the force of the blow. He got back up quickly, firing into the eyes of another as he did so. Another creature leapt on his back, digging its sharp teeth into his shoulder. Somehow he found the strength to flip it over and shoot it in the chest.
Blood poured from him everywhere. He coughed deeply, and he felt the blood come up, thick like phlegm. That meant the blood had someone got in his lungs, and Zack didn't have to be a doctor to know the wasn't good. Nor did he have to be a psychic to know he couldn't keep it up much longer. He just had to stay alive to see the rest of the demons out, and there were only two left. If he could take them out…
His vision doubled, turning the two creatures into four. One of the creatures (along with its doppelganger) leapt into the air. He plugged both of them with a round to the face, destroying the top half of its skull. The other stood staring at him, and Zack stared back.
He couldn't stand anymore. His legs gave out on him and he fell to one knee. Sensing his weakness, the remaining demon charged at him. He realized he would need to reload to kill this last one, but he also realized he didn't have the time. He raised the gun into the air and shoved it into the face of the charging creature. He smiled (a smile full of blood) as the creature howled in pain. Dropping the shotgun, he pulled out his handgun and let off a volley of shots into the creatures face. It howled with pain as each bullet hit it. Finally, it fell to the ground, shaking with its death spasm. Still he unloaded the rest of his clip into its skull, turning it into mush.
With the last one dead, Zack fell exhausted to the ground. Laying on his back he stared at the night sky. Blood poured around him, staining his clothes. He smiled sweetly.
He didn't even know what had compelled him to do something like this. In the last moments of his life he thought about it. There had been no thought behind it, he had only acted. He did what had come naturally, and he didn't regret a thing.
He thought of his brother, and smiled again. Josh, he said in his mind, speaking to the moon. The moon's pale surface had somehow turned to the smiling face of hsi brother. Green eeys and blond hair included. You better survive. You'd better not die. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off into whatever lay beyond death for him.