Chapter 5
They wandered into the street a little further, everyone just as tense as they would have been had they been facing something like a Witch. The inebriated giggling seemed to dissipate somewhat as they moved forward and soon enough it stopped altogether. Dean heard shuffling behind where he stood and turned to investigate. Upon turning, he suddenly found himself with a face full of zombie crotch. The stench of decaying flesh was nearly unbearable and Dean refused to open his mouth for fear of inhaling even more of the disgusting smell now invading his nostrils. Several guttural sounds erupted from the base of his throat as the Jockey attempted to pull him in multiple directions all at once.
Dean had no idea what was going on. The urge to breathe was becoming harder to ignore with each second that passed. He couldn't hear a thing over the obnoxious giggling of the zombie that was all but humping his face. His hand scrabbled desperately trying to push the offending thing off but now the Jockey had his head locked in a tight grip. Suddenly the grip slackened and the zombie fell to the ground, several bullet holes now adorning his balding had. Feeling somewhat light headed and a little woozy from lack of clean oxygen, Dean collapsed forwards, someone catching him by the arm before he face planted onto the dirt encrusted cement. It seems the Angel was back.
Castiel hoisted Dean's near unconscious body up and practically threw him over his shoulder.
"Geez man, I can still walk." He felt the other tense before beginning a rather fast paced walk.
"It is too late. The ground has begun shaking. We do not have much time. I either carry you or I 'zap' you to the next safe room. I picked the one I thought you would appreciate more." Dean paused.
"Coach! There's a Tank on the way!"
"Can't Castiel take care of it?"
"Not while we're out here with him, it would kill us too." Panic was clear in Coach's voice as he began shouting orders. By the time the ground began to shake obviously, everyone was standing their ground with their guns pointed in the direction Castiel had said the beast was approaching from.
The Tank rounded the corner, its massive body moved quickly for something of its size, knuckles scraping along the ground as it gained on them. Its tiny eyes seemed riveted solely on them, ignoring everything else in its path. They stood firm and released a steady hail of bullets once the zombie was in shooting range. Ellis quickly remembered the Molotov cocktail that was strapped to his leg. He lit the fuse hurriedly and hurled the bomb towards the Tank. It hit the beast square in the face. The zombie roared deafeningly and slammed it gigantic fists into the ground beneath it. Raising a piece of the now broken cement above its head, the monster let loose another roar and flung the rubble at the group.
Backing up quickly, they continued shooting at the still flaming Tank, some pausing to reload or swap their guns every so often. They kept a constant distance between themselves and the oncoming Special Infected. Bits of blackened and burnt skin fell away from the Tank and eventually it stopped in its tracks and keeled over, roaring in pain as it went down. The second the beast hit the ground the team began moving forward once again. As the stepped around the now immobile Tank, a loud screech was heard before a stomach churning gagging sound and the group saw a wad of bright acidic green come flying towards them.
"GOO INBOUND! Guys! Spitter alert."
As the green wad hit the ground close to Castiel's feet, it began bubbling and spreading outwards.
"Guys, GET OUT OF THE ACID!" The Angel scrambled away from the mess, Dean now held tightly in his arms. A soft squealing sound soon attracted their attention and Harrold raised her Desert Eagle and aimed in the noises direction. Soon enough the zombie making the sounds stepped, not only into view but also into the young girls shooting range. Steadying herself, Harrold unloaded several bullets into the zombie and took a step back at the long necked Special Infected doubled over and another, albeit smaller, pile of gooey acid began to form around the dead zombies body.
"Well gosh Nick. There goes another one of yer ex gal-friends."
Everyone laughed at Ellis' comment and the con man punched him lightly in the arm. Shifting Dean onto his back, Castiel suggested that they all keep moving before any more deadly surprises felt the need to make themselves known. The remainder of the trip to the next safe house was fairly easy, and the managed to evade most of the Special Infected they passed, except for when Nick was unfortunate enough to be grabbed around the throat by a Smoker. As they walked Ellis once again began to recount more Keith stories. They made it through the next red metal door just as the sun was setting.
The new safe house was a low set, two story building, containing several bedrooms and a fully stocked pantry. Multiple first aid kits lined the cabinets within the bathroom and Sam failed to contain his happiness when Coach tested the taps and a steady stream of water flowed from the faucet. Nick rifled through several draws for ammo before Castiel cleared his throat and pointed silently to the pile of boxes beneath one of the beds, clearly marked 'AMMO'. It wasn't long before the group was all gathered together in the lounge area of the house. Standing awkwardly, in what could somewhat resemble a circle, they remained silent, waiting for someone to say something.
"There's only four beds guys." At just about the same time, everyone all but yell 'dibs on my own!' causing Harrold to laugh out loud.
"Ya'll guys are idiots. People are gon' be sharing beds tonight." Several minutes of arguing swiftly followed the small girl's observation. Quickly growing fed up with the men squabbling, Harrold tugged lightly on Castiel's trench coat.
"Tell 'em what to do Angel guy." Cas smiled at the child's words but shook his head.
"They will figure it out eventually." Annoyed, Harrold pouted and walked over to Ellis, kicking him in the shins when she was close enough.
"Shut up. Yer sleeping with Nick. Coach 'nd I get our own. 'Nd Dean 'nd Samantha get the last bed."
As everyone was walking off to settle down for the night, Kain pawed at Nick's leg, whimpered and turned to face the door.
"What do you want you stupid mutt?" The dog whimpered again, jumping up on the con man, a steady stream of urine now beginning to stain the previously white suit. Nick pushed the dog to the floor and stomped towards the back door, yanking the metal bar from its place and all but kicking the door open.
"Damn it! I've walked through sewers, I've been spat on, I've been covered in Boomer bile, I've trekked through swamps, and I've bled on this bloody suit. I draw the line at getting pissed on by some mangy mutt. The do-"
Before he could finish his sentence, a thick slimy Smoker's tongue wound itself around his torso and dragged him backwards. Ellis was the first to his feet, gun in one hand machete in another, aiming said gun in the direction of the Smoker and he raced towards Nick. Who was now dangling several feet about the ground, his feet kicking wildly as he thrashed in the zombies hold. A few shots later, the zombie erupted in a plume of green smoke the grip of its tongue slackening, leaving the con man to fall unceremoniously to the ground, gasping heavily for another breath.
Ellis dragged him back inside quickly and Sam made sure that the door was shut properly and that the bar was back in place once again. As they re-entered the room, Kain ran and hid under one of the beds, whimpering softly. Nick glared in the dog's direction but allowed himself to be pulled away by the older hick. Both men trudging up the stairs, the sole thought of getting some sleep on their minds. Coach bade the others a quick good night and followed the other two up the stairwell. Castiel took his his spot close the the exit. Once again taking the position of watch man as he didn't sleep. Dean gave Harrold a quick noogie before dragging his brother towards the largest available been on their level.
Harrold opened her mouth and yawned loudly then patted her denim clad thigh, trying to get her pet's attention as she moved into the adjoining room where she would be sleeping, motioning for Kain to join her when he sat at the foot of the bed watching her expectantly. The dog jumped up quickly, seemingly over his distress at the white suited con man's outburst to his accident, promptly joining his mistress on the lumpy mattress. After shifting numerous times, in a futile attempt at finding a comfortable position on the mattress with her dog, the exhausted girl lay entirely still and listened to the brother's talking in the next room.
"Dude. If I wake up with you spooning me, I will kill you." Sam scoffed at his brothers words and flopped down onto the mattress, feet dangling off the edge as usual.
"Hey Sasquatch, move over or you can sleep on the floor." Sam grunted and begrudgingly shifted more towards the edge of the bed. Dean settled himself down beside him, both males choosing to remain above the confines of the ratty looking bed covers.
"When do you think we'll be able to get back home?" Sam lifted his head to look at his brother as he lay silent for another minute or so.
"Who knows Sammy. Until we figure out exactly what this Trickster wants I guess."
NaNoWriMo 2010 November 5