Heyo, this is MD Owen with my part of this round-robin challenge. I was asked to write Casey, Splinter, and include my original character, Emyrs Becker, as a cameo. She won't stay too long, and she brings a lot of fun into a story. My apologies for taking so long. Enjoy!
A blood-smeared, chewed hockey stick glinted in the moonlight and a desparate man's cry screeched into the night. A few of the letters on the building were gone, reading 'ootrs' and an owl's eyeless body along with a giant food truck parked through the building's lobby. Casey Jones found the disaster a good reason to leave the safety of Raph's warm motorcycle he was driving and make the truck his soapbox and possibly, his last stand against the Undead.
"You grizzly assholes killed my best friend! The best family I've ever known," he felt the night wind aggravate his sore throat every time he opened his mouth, "and whoever your leader guy is has a one way ticket to Cape Jones, first class, all expenses and ass-whoopings paid. GONGALA!" His battle cry warbled and snapped near its end. The rest of his whoops and grunts mimicked an injured baby goat.
The numbers of the Undead spilling out of the desecrated building rose from one, two, shambling over the rocks and debris, to over a dozen, with eyes, teeth, and skin missing from the right places. Most were former female employees of the establishment still in their skin-tight uniforms of white tank tops and skimpy orange shorts; the other drones were men in flannel shirts and faded college apparel. Casey created as much noise as possible by banging his hockey stick and baseball bat against the hood of the truck. The corpses' moans terrified him on the inside, but his determination to end the madness overrode his sanity.
"How in the hell did you survive this long?" an accented female voice blasted from the ground. Casey snapped his head to the driver's side and saw a pair of glaring hazel eyes and a familiar mutant-like cream-colored face sneering at him. Her silver beanie bounced from the frustration as a string of German phrases tossed from her mouth. He had no idea what she just called him.
"Um, hello. I, uh-" he chuckled hoarsely. "Sorry, I'm avenging my dead friend here."
"Avenge him somewhere else, please!" She heard the moans closer behind her than she believed. "Oh, sheet!" The mutant girl's hardy military boots thumped over the rocks; she moved with surprising grace once she got passed the truck and headed straight for Casey's motorcycle. It prompted him to end his crusade and go rescue his damn vehicle.
"That's mine! Keep your hands off it!" He hit the hood of the food truck two times before losing his footing and landed with a gross thud on the ground. He cursed everything in existence, but the Undead reached the back tires, and, broken ribs or not, Casey needed to ditch the brilliant plan. "Get off my bike! Or Raph's bike. He won't like it that you touched it!"
The mutant girl reached the motorcycle and noticed another person on the carrier's side. "Hello, I'm Emyrs Becker, and your friend is crazy and will be dead soon. We'll all be dead but I'm not planning to be tonight." She didn't understand the person's mumbled words under the helmet. "I didn't get that. One question: can you shoot a gun?"
The person removed his helmet, and she smiled when she saw another mutant, a rat. He began to speak, but Casey swung the bat at the Bike Thief. "Splinter! I got your back, bud!" She yelped and squeezed behind Splinter. "Get off him, tramp!"
Enraged and squeak-grunting, Casey tore off her beanie and shoved her to the ground. As she rolled in the dirt, Casey used more muscle power to push her out of the way like a stubborn dog. "I can't take you, I'm sorry! Go back to the truck!"
"Do you see the truck? Oh wait- it's covered with zombies that YOU brought out of the bloody building!" She rose to her feet and held up her fists. "I know you're stronger than me, but I'm not dying by the hands of those things. Or their teeth. Who is that rat on the bike?"
Casey pointed at her dramatically. "Who are you? I'll ask the questions."
"Emyrs Becker," Splinter's voice rose over the motorcycle's engine. "And she's coming with us."
"You don't know her, Master. She could be behind this whole mess."
Emyrs wiggled her finger towards the on-coming horde of zombies. "If I was the zombie queen, couldn't I just ask them to stop?"
Casey snapped, "Maybe, why don't you-"
She turned to them, "Hey, uglies! Stop that! You're needed on the Thriller set in 2 hours and you still need to eat dinner. Eat him, eat HIM!" Her pudgy fingers stabbed through the air in Casey's direction.
Casey refused to lose, even with a shattered voice. "Eat her! Eat her!" While they both shouted like children, Splinter revved up with motorcycle and spun the wheels. Flabbergasted by the twist, Casey gawked at Splinter and almost got attacked as the horde was upon them. Three gunshots to three heads gave Casey enough time to jump in the passenger's seat of the motorcycle. Splinter quickly motioned for Emyrs to hop on, and she took down a few more zombies before her chamber emptied and her happy ass planted behind Splinter. The engine revved and stalled momentarily, but with Casey's swift hand motion pointing to Splinter's feet, their cavalry stormed off down the road, their taillights flickering in the darkness and leaving the zombies alone and hungry.