The Last Coors Banquet in the Valley
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Chapter 2 of 6
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The next day Miguel woke to bright sunshine streaming through the curtains of his new room. He sleepily clambered out of bed and was about to head for the bathroom for a shower when he heard his name being called from outside the house. He pulled back the curtains, and said, "What the hell?"
"Hurry up!" Johnny shouted as he waved from the driveway, standing next to a row of zombies that were chained to the inside of the fence. "First day of training!"
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"About time," Johnny said, taking a drink of his beer, as Miguel finally walked out onto the driveway. "You ready to start work?"
"Yeah," Miguel said nervously.
"Yes, what?" Johnny asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, sir?"
"You will always address me as Sensei, is that understood?"
"Yes, Sensei!" Miguel said loudly.
"OK, so before I teach you any actual techniques, you need to learn about your enemy," Johnny said. He took another drink, then pulled out what looked like a snapped off radio aerial. He extended it, then whipped it into the face of the first zombie.
"This is your enemy. This is a zombie, and the first thing to remember about them is that in a one-on-one fight, a live human will ALWAYS have superiority over a single zombie."
He took another drink from his can. "You run on brains, and zombies only run on instinct, which means they are as dumb as a Valley chick after three drinks, and if you can't out-think a zombie then you don't deserve to be alive.
Now tell me, Mr Diaz, what do you notice about these things that's different to your average zombie on the street?"
Miguel thought for a moment, listening to the breathy sounds that were emanating from them. "They're quiet?"
"That's right. One of the biggest problems you will face when you encounter a zombie is that it will moan more than a porn star, and that attracts other zombies," Johnny said, then he whipped the aerial against the zombie's throat. "If you can't immediately kill a zombie you should always punch it in the throat and severely damage it's trachea so it can't make any sound.
Following on from that, we do not kill zombies with guns. They should always be your last resort," Johnny said. "Why don't we kill zombies with guns, Mr. Diaz?"
Miguel thought for a moment, furrowing his eyebrows, then said, "Because guns kill more gun owners than zombies?"
"NO!" Johnny shouted. "We don't use guns because they are really LOUD, and what do loud noises attract?"
"Zombies," Miguel said, suddenly understanding
"That's right. You shoot a gun and you are announcing your location to every zombie in a one mile radius, and they are all gonna head straight for you."
"Why do you carry a gun with you if you don't believe in them?" Miguel asked, nodding to the revolver Johnny kept in a holster on his belt.
"That's a last resort," Johnny said. "That's for me if I ever get bitten, or I'm in a situation I know I can't get out of."
"Oh," Miguel said, wishing he'd never asked, because that was kinda depressing.
Johnny drained his can, and threw it over his shoulder. "Now a good thing to remember is that the decay state of a zombie is a indicator of how to fight it. When a zombie has just turned it is just as fast as any human, so those you need to run from and then ambush them from the back.
The older a zombie is the easier it is to kill, because their bones get brittle with age." Johnny spun on his feet, then kicked the zombie from the side, snapping both its legs with ease. "A simple kick will drop it to the floor, and from there you can stamp it's skull."
"OK, Sensei," Miguel said, wincing at the injury, as the zombie remained hung from the fence, with one of its broken legs dangling by a thin strip of rotting flesh.
"The most honourable way to kill a zombie is with your bare hands," Johnny said, then he quickly added, "Well, not bare. Gloves obviously, always wear gloves. You punch one of these assholes in the mouth and cut your knuckle on its teeth you will end up losing your hand. Believe me, I've seen it and it's a god damn unpleasant way to go."
Johnny took out of a pair of thick leather motorcycle gloves and handed them to Miguel. "OK, put those on and punch the zombie as hard as you can. Let's see if you can break its nose."
Miguel pulled on the gloves, then stood looking at the creature. It was female, with long hair, and it was wearing what was probably once a really expensive jacket.
"What is the problem, Mr Diaz?" Johnny asked, as he opened another can of beer.
"It used to be a person," Miguel said quietly.
"And is it a person now?"
"No, but-"
"But?"
"It still looks like one," Miguel said.
"Stop with the PC bullshit. These things are evil, and they won't hesitate to kill you if given the chance, so punch it."
Miguel held up his fist, then punched the zombie. "Oh, it smells."
"That's just the rotten air getting expelled. It's not breathing, so hit it again."
He hit, a little harder this time, but the creature wasn't phased.
"OK, look at me," Johnny said, as he put his hands on Miguel's shoulders, turning him around. "If you don't kill this thing it will kill you instead, and it won't care that you look like a person, it won't care that you're just a kid. Now remember the people you've lost. They were killed by one just like this, so what are you going to do to it?"
Johnny turned him around to face the creature. Miguel paused, thinking about his family, his mother, and his grandma. "Kill it."
"You don't sound so sure."
"I'm going to kill it!" Miguel yelled, then he let out a shout and punched the zombie as hard as he could, then kept pounding until it hung lifelessly from the chains.
"Nice work," Johnny said, as he slapped Miguel on the back.
"Is it dead?" Miguel asked breathlessly.
"It doesn't take much to damage the brain on these things, especially as they get older," Johnny said. "We can work more on your technique in the gym later, but today I just wanted you see that these things are nowhere near as tough as you thought."
"I punched a zombie to death," Miguel said in disbelief.
"And after punching comes kicking, because kicking zombies is BADASS," Johnny said, whipping his pointer into the next zombies face. "So if you kick it in the nose, you might get lucky and push the cartilage into it's brain, but chances are you're just gonna be dealing with a pissed off corpse.
If you hit it in the jaw, again you might get lucky, and it's lower jaw will come off. That's good because it can't bite you, but these things are so stupid they will still try to come at you, and if they scratch you then that's it, game over.
If you hit it with an upward motion, right here, under the jaw, with enough force, then BOOM!" Johnny unleashed a savage kick. "And the head just pops right off."
"You wanna be careful with these," Johnny said, picking up the head. "They can still bite."
"Holy shit!" Miguel said, as Johnny kicked the zombie head over the fence like it was a soccer ball. "I can't believe you just did that!"
"You wanna try?" Johnny asked, as he indicated towards the next zombie with his radio aerial pointer.
"I don't think I can get my leg that high," Miguel said, then the zombie lunged for him, so he took a quick step back.
"Did you just flinch?" Johnny asked sharply.
"Well, it's trying to eat me, so yeah," Miguel said.
Johnny raised his eyebrows.
"I mean, yes Sensei, I flinched."
"You can't afford to be afraid of these things," Johnny said, as he grabbed Miguel by the back of the neck, and pushed him towards the zombie. "Respect their power yes, but if you are scared you lose focus and that leads to mistakes, and we can't afford to make mistakes out there."
"What are you doing?" Miguel shrieked, as the zombie's rotten hands just missed the tip of his nose.
"Calm down, and just breathe," Johnny said, as he held Miguel still. "It can't reach you. Take the time to assess it, and decide how you're going to kill it."
"I don't know," Miguel gasped, trying to pull back out of Johnny's grip, which seemed to make the zombie even more agitated, and it reached out, thrashing in the air.
"Is it fresh?" Johnny asked.
"No," Miguel ground out.
"Is it old," Johnny asked.
"Yes."
"So think, how are you going to kill it?"
Miguel tried to get his breathing under control, then stilled his movements. As he calmed down he noted that the zombie seemed to slow its movements too, and it was now just randomly pawing at the air, missing him with every swipe.
"It's old, so I'm going to disable it first by breaking its legs," Miguel said, as Johnny finally let go of his neck. "Then when its on the ground I'm going to stamp on its face."
"Excellent work," Johnny said, putting his hand on Miguel shoulder. "How are you feeling now?"
"Calmer," Miguel said. "When I used to see these things through the window at my apartment I was so scared that I just wanted to cry. Now I can see there are ways to fight them that don't need guns, and I feel a bit better about it."
"Guns are for pussies," Johnny said. "Killing a zombie with your fists or your feet is badass."
Miguel smiled, finally stepping back from the zombie.
"And now the final lesson of the day," Johnny said, then he drove the long Aerial through the eye of the last zombie. "Everything around you can be used as a weapon."
Johnny drained his can, scrunched it up, and tossed it over his shoulder. "Oh, and watch out for goth kids. There are still a few alive, and you don't want to punch them by mistake. They scratch like girls, and they will go for your eyes, believe me."
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They didn't venture out to scavenge for the next two weeks, instead they stayed within the walls of the mansion, while Johnny taught Miguel how to punch and kick with power and accuracy.
Miguel quickly found that he enjoyed the physical activity, but even more than that he enjoyed the company of his sensei, and he looked forward to every day in a way that he hadn't since before the world ended.
While Miguel would practise Johnny would walk around him, his hands behind his back.
"Lesson one, Strike first, never wait for the enemy to attack," Johnny shouted, as Miguel kicked a bag they had rigged from the ceiling. "If you can kick the head off one of these things before it even realises you are there, then it can't make a sound and attract other zombies."
"Lesson two, strike hard," Johnny shouted, "because they may look frail, but if you do a half-assed job they will get back up and take you down."
"Lesson three, no mercy," Johnny shouted "because these things show no mercy, so neither will we."
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At the end of the second week Miguel felt ready. His training was going well, he could break boards with his feet, and he was confident that when the time came that he would be able to kick the head off a zombie.
"Are you ready to go outside, Mr Diaz?" Johnny shouted.
"Yes, Sensei!"
"Are you going to be a badass zombie killer, Mr Diaz?"
"Yes, Sensei!"
"Are you afraid?"
"No, Sensei!"
"Good," Johnny said. "Fear does not exist in this dojo."
Miguel screwed his face up and asked, "What's a dojo?"
"The world is your dojo, Mr Diaz," Johnny said, "because that's where you're going for the next stage of your training."
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They left the mansion with music blaring. Miguel was wearing sunglasses, his motorcycle gloves, and a black leather jacket that Johnny had brought back from a solo trip out. He rolled down the window, enjoying the sun, nodding his head in time to Back in the Game by Airbourne and looked out over city.
Zombies were shambling around the street, sometimes raising their heads as the car drove past, and for the first time he didn't feel afraid at the sight of them.
They pulled into an old junk yard, and drove to a clearing next to a large abandoned brick building, then climbed out of the car.
"You ready for this?" Johnny asked.
"Yes, Sensei," Miguel replied.
"You can do this, but if you wanna survive you gotta be hungry, are you hungry?"
"Yes, Sensei!" Miguel shouted.
Johnny got back in the car, slammed the door behind him, and rolled down the window. He pressed the CD into the player and said, "Good, cause so are they."
"What are you doing?" Miguel shrieked as Johnny turned the radio up full blast.
There was a moaning sound from the abandoned building, and two zombies emerged from the darkness within with red blood still dripping down their overalls.
"Uh oh! You better run, Mr Diaz, 'cause they look like fresh ones," Johnny laughed as he twisted the cap off a bottle of beer.
Miguel took off at a run, the zombies chased after him, and he was suddenly thankful that he'd spent hours on the running machine and sprinting up the long staircases of the three storey mansion. They were fast, and he couldn't lose them as he wound his way down paths between the abandoned cars.
"How much longer?" Miguel asked as he ran past the red sports car, still pursued by the zombies.
"Another lap, keep going," Johnny shouted, waving him on.
After the fourth lap, when Miguel went past the car it was empty, and as he ducked round the next corner Johnny grabbed him and pushed him round behind the Firebird.
As the zombies ran past, Johnny stuck his leg out low, and used the zombies own speed to send one of them sprawling across the floor. He jammed his foot on its back, using his weight to keep it from getting to its feet, and nodded at the other zombie. "Go get it."
Miguel quickly sprinted round the car, and placed himself behind the zombie, which was now turning back, and letting out growling moans as it watched Johnny with dead eyes.
"Diaz, you better take that thing out or it's coming for me."
Miguel noticed a long shard of metal as he ran, and grabbed it, then he put his foot on the car bumper, the next on the bonnet, then launched himself into the air. His kick connected with the zombie's shoulder, knocking it the ground, and he smashed the metal shard through its eye, killing it instantly.
"Nicely done!" Johnny shouted, as he smashed his heel into the temple of the zombie on the floor.
"That felt AWESOME!" Miguel shouted, as Johnny held his hand up for a high five.
"Totally badass!" Johnny said, as he grabbed Miguel's hand and pulled him in for a hug. "You might be able to beat me for the zombie killer title in a few years time if you carry on like that!"
"Are we going to kill some more?"
"Nah, it's time to go back to the house and have a few beers to celebrate."
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On the way back to the mansion they were driving down a wide boulevard when Johnny suddenly hit the breaks. "Son of a bitch!"
"What is it?" Miguel asked, peering down the street.
"Come with me," Johnny said, as he got out of the car, grabbed a bag from the trunk, and slung it over his shoulder.
Miguel followed behind him and they ran across the street, then went into an alleyway. Johnny started climbing a metal ladder that was embedded into the wall, and Miguel climbed after him, until he found himself standing on the platform of a giant billboard.
"What are we doing up here?"
"Hold this," Johnny said, as he threw Miguel the bag, and started shaking a can of red spray paint.
Johnny started spraying on the board, and Miguel tilted his head, trying to guess what it was. "Is that a rocket ship?"
"It's a dick, duh!" Johnny said, as he started drawing the balls.
"That's really bad."
"What?" Johnny asked incredulously. "It's not like LaRusso will still be alive to see it. I guarantee that loser got eaten on the first day."
When Johnny was happy with the extremely large penis he had drawn next to the man's face, he reached into the bag and pulled out an old Polaroid camera. "I only have two shots left on this, and I was saving them for a really special occasion, so come on, get in here with me."
Johnny put his arm around Miguel's shoulder, and pulled him closer, then angled the camera up, making sure he was getting the painting in shot as best he could tell, then said, "Say dick cheese!"
Miguel burst out laughing as Johnny pressed the button, and he was sure he had wrecked the picture. They sat with their backs against the billboard, passing a bottle of beer between them, as they enjoyed the sunset, waiting for the photo to finally develop.
As the photo slowly emerged Miguel was relieved to see that they were both smiling broadly, looking completely badass, and the dick was clearly visible.
"Do you mind if I take a picture of it on my phone?" Miguel asked. "It's a great photo."
"Sure," Johnny said. "Is that where you keep all your photos?"
"Yeah, you wanna see?" Miguel asked, and Johnny nodded.
"OK," Miguel said, as he opened the phone, and scrolled through the album. "This is my Grandma. She used to live with us, and she was really funny. She used to smoke a lot of weed, and she thought I didn't know what she was doing, but I knew."
Miguel scrolled further. "This is my mom. I think you would have really liked her."
"She looks nice," Johnny said, staring down at the picture. He sniffed, then looked away, draining the beer and tossing the empty into the alley below.
Miguel took a close up picture of the Polaroid, then offered it back to Johnny.
"Thanks," he replied, as he took the picture. He opened his red jacket, and put his hand in the inside pocket. He pulled out an envelope and opened it, then a photo fell on the floor. "Shit."
Miguel watched as Johnny grabbed the photo, and stuffed it back in the envelope, along with the Polaroid. He'd got enough of a view of the picture while it was laying on the floor to recognise it as a young kid, maybe 10 years old, posing with a soccer ball, and Miguel wondered who it was.
Johnny had said he got lucky, that he had no family, but perhaps that was just a lie to protect himself from the ugly truth. He decided not to press the issue, and instead said, "We should start heading back before it gets dark."
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When they arrived back at the house Johnny had gone down to the garage for a while, then emerged an hour later carrying a bucket full of beer cans. Miguel sat by the fire pit sipping on one beer as Johnny drank everything that was in the bucket, then he announced that it was bedtime, and as Miguel walked up the stairs, he was pretty sure that Johnny went down to the garage again.
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The next morning they were on the road again, music blaring over the stereo, as if the previous evening hadn't happened.
"Where are we going?" Miguel asked, noticing that they were heading towards Encino Hills, rather than Reseda.
"I need to collect something," Johnny said, as they drove along residential streets, then pulled up outside a big house.
"I won't be long if you wanna stay here and mind the car," Johnny said.
"It's OK, I'll come in and watch your back."
They went round the back of the huge house, past a large swimming pool, and Johnny kicked over flower pots till he found the key for the back door. The inside of the house was untouched, with dishes still inside the washer, as if the owners had spring cleaned right before the apocalypse.
They crept up the stairs, crossed the landing, then entered a large bedroom, and Johnny knelt down, pulling boxes from under the bed. He rummaged through the boxes until he found what he was looking for and stuffed it in his pocket.
"Whose room was this?" Miguel asked, looking around.
"Mine," Johnny said, "Or it was, until I was about 18."
"Wow. You were rich."
"My Stepdad was rich. I suppose I was too, since he let me buy whatever the hell I wanted, but it all came at a price," Johnny said, looking around. "Come on, let's get out of here."
They crept down the stairs, and he followed Johnny through to the huge lobby.
"I might have known it," a voice came from behind them.
Johnny's head immediately dropped, he grimaced, then let out a sigh. "Hi, Sid."
"Even in all this, here you are, still needing my help," Sid said, shuffling closer.
"I didn't come here for anything of yours, I came here for something of mine," Johnny said, holding up the Cobra Kai patch he'd stuffed into his jacket.
"I'm amazed you've survived, given that you could barely look after yourself before all this happened," Sid countered, then he looked Miguel up and down disdainfully. "Who's this?"
"I'm Miguel, sir."
Sid turned towards Johnny. "Did you pick this one up to replace the one you lost?"
"Don't you even dare!" Johnny shouted, stepping closer to the old man.
"Sensei," Miguel quietly said, moving closer, and putting his hand on Johnny's arm.
Johnny looked at him briefly, then turned back to Sid. "I should have known even zombies wouldn't eat a sack of shit like you."
"Go on, get out of here before Rhonda gets back," Sid said.
Johnny walked to the side table in the hall, and picked up a picture frame that stood next to a vase. He smashed the frame against the table, then pulled the picture out through the broken glass.
"I'm taking this," Johnny said, holding up the picture of a blonde woman. "I want nothing from you."
"I don't know how she put up with you," Sid shouted after them, as Johnny walked quickly through to the kitchen, and Miguel followed after him.
Johnny climbed into the car, slamming the door after him. He started the engine, put his hands on the wheel, then rested his forehead against them.
"Are you OK?" Miguel asked quietly.
Johnny sat up, and shook his head vaguely. "I shouldn't have come here," he whispered, then started driving for home.
With no CD playing the drive back to the mansion was unbearably silent. Every time Miguel stole sideways glances over at Johnny he could see how visibly upset the man was, as he drove with one hand on the wheel, gripping tightly till his knuckles were white.
"So, your stepdad's an asshole, huh?" Miguel asked quietly, breaking the silence.
Johnny let out a small snort of amusement. "He sure is."
"Who's the lady in the picture?"
Johnny carried on driving, his eyes fixed on the road. "My mom."
"She looked pretty."
"Yeah," Johnny replied. "Yeah, she was."
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Johnny disappeared to the garage as soon as they got home, and Miguel found a needle and cotton in one of the drawers at the house, and sewed the Cobra Kai patch to his leather jacket. He'd stabbed himself in the fingers more times that he cared to admit, but when he put it on and checked it out in the mirror he looked awesome.
"Hey, look how cool this turned out," Miguel said, when Johnny appeared with a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand, almost falling over his own feet as he walked into the kitchen.
"Looks badass," Johnny slurred.
"Here, let me help you," Miguel said as Johnny staggered in, and he guided him to chair.
Miguel quickly cooked up some hamburgers, forcing Johnny to eat them in hopes of sobering him up slightly, but after he finished eating Johnny drank the rest of the Whiskey, then went out into the courtyard and climbed up onto the edge of the firepit.
"Come on!" he shouted at the top of his voice. "Come and get me!"
"Stop!" Miguel pleaded. "You're going to attract them here, and I can't fight them alone."
"We're all gonna die, kid!" Johnny shouted, as he threw his empty bottle across the courtyard. "We're all gonna die!"
"Yeah, if you keep shouting we will!" Miguel said.
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When Miguel woke the next morning he was surprised to find that Johnny was awake before him, and was making a lot of noise in the kitchen, as he opened and closed cupboard doors. It had taken him an hour to calm Johnny down and get him to go to bed the previous night, but here he was in the early morning light throwing cans into boxes.
"What's going on?" Miguel asked.
"I'm leaving," Johnny said tersely.
"Where are you going?"
"You can come with me if you want?" he said questioningly, almost as if he was expecting Miguel to choose the empty house over him.
"Of course I'm coming with you," Miguel replied.
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"OK, so don't forget the code," Johnny said, as he set the alarm on the white mansion. "If anything happens to me, at least you'll have a safe place to come back to."
"You really think an alarm will stop people breaking in?"
"If anyone tries to break in it'll make so much noise all the zombies from here to Reseda will hear it and come piling down," Johnny said with a grin.
"Bye baby," Johnny said, patting the red Firebird, then he climbed into the large black car parked next to it.
"What's in the trailer?" Miguel asked, looking over his shoulder.
"Supplies and shit," Johnny said, as he raised the garage door. "Don't go in there."
They set out driving, but Miguel still hadn't plucked up the courage to ask where they were going, or why they had left the safety of the big white house. The music was playing, and Miguel was listlessly skipping the dull tracks, when Johnny exclaimed, "Oh, for god's sake!"
"What?" Miguel asked, looking down the street.
"Get in the back quickly and open the door," Johnny said, as he wheeled the car around.
Miguel clambered into the back seat, as Johnny slammed the breaks on and opened the passenger side door. "Get in!"
A dark haired guy threw a heavy bag into the back seat, then he and a kid jumped into the car, slamming the doors behind them, and Johnny hit the accelerator, sending the zombies that were chasing them flying.
"Thanks for helping us," The guy said breathlessly. "Not many people would do..."
The man stopped talking, his mouth opening and closing, then he said, "Johnny? Is that you?"
"You're just in time, LaRusso," Johnny said, as he skipped to the next track on the CD player. "Listen, they're playing your song."
Johnny turned up the CD player and the opening chords of Dude Looks Like a Lady by Aerosmith filled the car.