...Are you happy, Ellis?...
.
.
.
The young man rolled slowly onto his back, his unconscious mind powerless against the insidiously advancing tide of dark dreams. His legs kicked slightly, sending him to places he did not wish to go. His arms twitched and fingers clenched, performing unspeakable actions that made tears trickle from behind closed eyes. The boy's hat slipped off his head, and upon feeling it brush against his cheek, he instinctively reached for it, clutching it desperately as he called out for its lost owner.
"Keith...I'm a monster, Keith...I'm sor-" The sound of his own soft murmurs seemed to partially rouse Ellis from his fitful slumber. With eyes half open, the horrific vision of him tearing his beloved friend apart with his own hands was slowly replaced with the sight of the ceiling's peeling paint.
"I shoulda' been there for you," Ellis's voice cracked, his pitch high and trembling. The full weight of Keith's absence was straining the walls he had been building- walls that were supported by the stories he had been telling- of a bygone era, a golden age where Keith was king. By elevating his friend to the lofty heights of an untouchable, legendary ideal, Ellis had been covering the dark, hidden truths that threatened to break him and send him hurtling into a state of despair. He could feel the weight of it crushing his chest, so he rolled back onto his side. He could see Keith, lying alone within the auto shop as blazing smoke scorched his lungs with every helpless breath.
Ellis shut his eyes tightly and his free hand flew up to grasp a fistful of his tousled hair at the horrible, uncontrollable thought.
"I miss you so bad, Keith. I'm s-sorry I got mad at you at the club... an' s-stuck up my middle finger at you..." Ellis's sobs grew louder as the image of Keith's bloody face, deathly pale under the harsh sunlight atop the Vannah hotel, mercilessly implanted itself in his mind's eye.
"I'm sorry I won the bet. I shoulda' been the one ta' go ta' w-work that day. Not you...I never said goodbye...Never told you how much you m-meant ta' me... It's so hard not havin' you around anymore..." Ellis heaved in several deep breaths and willed himself to calm down upon hearing Nick shift slightly from the conman's position on the other side of the room. He continued to inhale deeply until his breaths stopped trembling and he held Keith's hat up to his face. Ellis had no idea what time it was, but there was just enough feeble light filtering through the bars of the door from a streetlamp outside to illuminate the cap's weathered form. He traced along the outline of its little tow truck logo with his finger. The comforting action brought him a slight sense of peace, and he produced a small smile upon successfully picturing Keith behind the wheel of the tiny vehicle.
"L-love ya', buddy..." Ellis whispered as he hugged the hat with all of his might. Regrettably, it no longer smelled like Keith- rather- it smelled more like himself, and a conglomeration of blood, bile, and oddly enough, Nick.
"Gotta take better care a' you," Ellis sighed deeply as he observed just how littered with filth the hat had become, but that didn't stop the boy from putting it back in its rightful place atop his head. He closed his eyes once more but a painful, sour feeling in his stomach kept him from falling back to sleep. With all of the nightmares he had been having, Ellis chose to count the discomfort as a small blessing, until his mind began to wander once more into its deepest corners, excavating the most atrocious, monstrous part of himself and bringing it screaming into the light.
The mutilated woman he had seen beneath the park bench- her crumpled form clinging desperately to her broken child- had affected Ellis more than he had realized, and had triggered a gut-wrenching feeling that now made breathing difficult.
As he lay hollow and haunted on the ground, his eyes began to water once more.
Surely he was a monster for what he had done...or rather, what he had failed to do...
For her...
Where was she now? Was she even alive?
Ellis nearly choked on a sob that he tried so desperately to control, but to no avail. Even now, he could see Rochelle awaken, and make her way to him through the darkness with her AK-47 in hand.
Before Ellis could apologize for waking the young woman up, she took him by the hand and led him up the stairs to the building's upper level, which consisted of nothing more than a bare, tiny, alcove-like room, illuminated only by dull streetlight ambiance through a tall window that was too narrow for anything to fit through. After closing the door behind them, Rochelle walked over to the window and took a quick look outside at the dark streets below them.
"It's stuffy in here," she remarked quietly, and upon realizing that the window could not be opened, she broke a small hole through the glass with her weapon. She then made her way to the center of the room and sat down on the floor, motioning for Ellis to sit next to her. He obliged and promptly removed his hat for two reasons: the moist breeze wafting in through the hole in the glass was pleasantly cool as it ruffled through his hair, and the hat also provided him with a distraction. He fidgeted with it as Rochelle stared at him in silence for a long, uncomfortable minute. The sounds of the storm possessed a rhythmic quality as they siphoned through the hole in wind driven bursts.
"I'm sorry, Ro." Although his voice was low and quiet, the girl still heard Ellis above the rain, "It was real stupid a' me ta' do what I did. You coulda' been seriously hurt or...or worse, an' I hope you're not hurtin' bad, an' I hope you can forgive me, an' it's okay if you're mad at me, an-"
Rochelle reached over and placed her hand on top of his, which promptly silenced the boy's nervous chatter and caused him to stop worrying his cap. He finally looked her in the eye with a pained expression.
The girl had been more than a bit confused and disappointed by Ellis's actions, and their subsequent consequences. The fact that she had taken the brunt of the Witch's fury left her frustrated, but she wasn't sure how to go about confronting Ellis and had instead allowed Nick to do what she herself wanted to avoid. That Ellis had been left in tears made it all the more difficult for her to ignore her motherly instincts and allow the boy to deal with his 'punishment.' She could have continued to watch from the sidelines, all the while hiding behind 'bad guy' Nick, but that wasn't her style.
Additionally, her woman's intuition was telling her that something else was at play behind the scenes. Although Ellis seemed to be a rather sensitive young man who took everything to heart, something else had to be wrong to make him cry through half the night.
"I forgive you, Ellis. Now, something's the matter-"
Ellis opened his mouth to speak, but Rochelle stopped him by pressing a finger to his lips.
"-And don't tell me otherwise because I won't believe it."
The boy sighed and bowed his head slightly.
"I'm jus' bummed out about Keith, is all."
"And..." Rochelle's eyes were dark pools that beckoned him to pour out all of his pain, "You may not want to talk to Nick about certain things, Ellis, but you don't have to be afraid with me. You can tell me anything. Everything."
Ellis bit his lip. He never liked confronting his problems, and they were the one thing that he actually avoided talking about.
"Ellis..."
It was so much easier for him to dwell on the positive and ignore the negative...to push it all aside...bury it before it buried him.
"I..." Could he really tell her everything? Did he want to?
"Ellis, honey..."
No. But there was one thing that he felt he could tell her.
"I...I miss my mom." The words trembled from his windpipe in a pained whisper as he lifted a hand to cover his face. Ellis would have given anything to stop himself from seeing those soulful eyes- a much brighter, clearer shade of blue than his own...the bouncing ringlets of her hair, two shades lighter and more tightly curled than his own.
"Oh sweetheart," Rochelle pulled the boy into her arms and felt something akin to an icy knife twisting into her stomach as Ellis struggled to form sentences amidst his heartwrenching sobs.
"I try not ta' think about her...c-cuz whenever I do...it jus' kills me! At least with Keith, I tried... I tried with all a' my heart ta' s-save him... but my mom...she... she was everything ta' me an'... I don't even know where she is...if she's even...if she's even alive or not! I jus'...I jus' left her!"
"Sweetie, please...please don't say that," Rochelle tried to stay strong for the boy, but could not keep from crying herself, "There was nothing you could have done. We were doing all that we could just to survive. You'll see her again, both her and Keith. I just know you will."
"I shoulda' gone back for her! She was sick...Oh, God, she was sick! There ain't no way she coulda' made it outta' Savannah on 'er own! " Ellis broke away from Rochelle, and leaned heavily against the wall, "She's...she's dead, Ro...she's dead jus' like Keith..." Ellis emitted a terribly plaintive, mournful sound from the back of his throat.
Rochelle drew in a sharp breath.
"But, I thought you and your friends made it to the hotel's roof. To the helicopter...Keith and Dave made it aboard. That's what you-"
"Keith's dead. I...I jus' couldn't accept it. Even now, I can't...Keith ain't supposed ta' die...but he's gone. He died in my arms...'afore we even got to the roof... Jus' like that, he died in my arms."
"You said there was room for two. It could have been you in that helicopter. You could have flown away with Dave."
"No...no, I told Dave ta' take care a' Keith," Ellis sniffed, "Like...take care a' his body or somethin'...I don't know. I was too upset. He was my best friend and I...I jus' couldn't leave 'im all alone on that roof, Ro! Ta' waste away...or get eaten...or... I jus' couldn't...I..." Ellis found it impossible to continue speaking, and Rochelle simply allowed him to cry into her shoulder until he had no tears left.
"I was always a momma's boy...a weakling. My dad always told me so," Ellis croaked.
Rochelle pursed her lips, "That's not true, Ellis. You're not weak."
"Aren't I? I mean damn, Ro, look at me! Blubberin' like a sissy. I'm fallin' apart."
"Ellis, this is your mother we're talking about. You'd be a heartless monster not to be emotional about her. The woman raised you. Loved you with all that she had. I'm sure she loved you from the moment she knew you were growing inside of her..."
"She told me that every chance she got...that she loved me. Even when I didn't deserve it. Like now."
"And why do you say that?"
"Cuz I failed her."
Rochelle sighed and shook her head.
"I'll say it again, Ellis. Things happened too fast. Savannah was overrun. We had to get out of there. There's nothing you could have done-"
"That's not what I meant." Ellis steadied himself before speaking at length, "A week 'afore this mess started, my mom called me up an' told me that she needed me ta' come home...said she needed my help. I was at a party that Keith insisted that I go to an'...an' I ended up havin' way too much ta' drink." Ellis's face seemed to darken as he bowed his head low, "I didn't want her ta' see me like that so I tried ta' avoid goin' home. I asked her if it was an emergency an' she said no...So when I got home the next mornin' an' I asked her what she had wanted, she avoided tellin' me. I had a bad feelin' about it, but I didn't think too much of it. Figured if somethin' was wrong, she woulda' told me. She ain't never kept no secrets from me, so I trusted her."
Ellis paused to wipe his brow.
"An' then she started gettin' sick...Again, I didn't think too much about it. I mean I took care of 'er, but I figured it was nuthin' serious and that she would get better. I even went out with Keith again on the last night I had with her...instead a' bein' with her. God, I shoulda' been there for her..."
Rochelle, who had been staring at the ground, looked up at the boy with a growing wariness in her eyes.
"She was sick..." The girl regretted the emphasis she had placed on the word, and wished more than anything that she could pull it back into her mouth- to keep it from striking the boy's ears like a sledgehammer.
Ellis suddenly covered his mouth with his hand- his eyes wide with horror, his heart threatening to shatter.
"Oh, God..." he whispered, his soul trembling at the thought of losing his mother to a fate worse than death, "She's...no. No! She can't be! She can't! That can't happen ta' her!"
"It hasn't!" There was such assurance- such power to Rochelle's voice that Ellis clung to her every word for dear life, "Wherever she is, she still wants what's best for you. You will see her again. Don't ask me how. Don't ask me when. Just believe it. You have to make it through this for her. You have to fight for her."
"I...I will."
"You still have a mother, Ellis...No matter what." The young woman smiled and stared into his eyes as she held his hands firmly in her own, "Understand?"
The boy closed his eyes and nodded slowly.
"Thank you so much, Ro."
"Now, I almost hate to ask, but is there anything else that's bothering you?"
"No, that's all." Ellis returned a smile, wiped his eyes, and put his hat back on.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah...yeah I'm sure."
"Alright. Let's head back downstairs. We'll have to keep moving soon and- ow..."
"What's the matter? " Ellis placed a hand on Rochelle's shoulder as the girl winced from a sudden, sharp pain, "Is it your scratches?"
"No. Well yeah, they hurt too, but my stomach's been killing me for a little while now."
"Yeah, mine too. Probably cuz we're starvin'."
Rochelle placed her hand on the door knob, but before she opened the door, they heard multiple pairs of rapid footsteps pounding on the cobblestone streets outside, via the hole in the window. They ran over to it and managed to catch a glimpse of four dark shapes dart past the streetlight before disappearing into the rainy gloom.
"Shit, what was that?" Ellis could feel his heart begin to race within his chest.
Rochelle merely shook her head as her own heart began to pound.
The rising sun had been so thoroughly strangled by the inky hands of the dreadful storm clouds that it might as well have remained night as Coach pried open the safe house door. In fact, there was a decidedly greenish cast to the sky.
"Christ," Nick whistled as he observed the heavens' horrific hue, "So we're heading out in this, huh?"
Ellis approached Francis with the older man's shotgun in his hands. During the chaos of the previous night, the two of them had both lost and procured the others weapon.
"Thanks, kid." As the biker reached for his auto shotgun, Ellis hesitated.
"I was wonderin' if...maybe I could hang onto your gun for a while. Please? I mean, if that's alright with you an' all," Ellis grinned as Francis cocked him an eyebrow, "You were so badass with it an' well, I was hopin' I could try it out for myself. 'Asides, you're a better shot with the sniper rifle than me, anyways. That cryin' chick's brain has got ta' be hurtin' more than- well, more than mine did durin' my SAT test. An' believe me, that was painful."
"Sure, kid," Francis chuckled, "but I expect it back. You hear?"
"Awesome, man! Thank you!" Ellis beamed, but quickly reverted to a hushed tone, "Oh...an' sorry 'bout last night...for waking you up..."
"No worries." Francis squinted as he looked into the boy's eyes. It was the first time that he had actually gotten a good look at the kid, and for a moment, he seemed lost in contemplation.
"Uh, you alright?" Ellis scratched at the tuft of hair that emerged from the back of his hat, made curlier by the humidity. His gaze fell to the ground in response to the biker's stare.
"Yeah, yeah." Francis quickly contorted his slightly worried countenance into a neutral smile, hefted Ellis's sniper rifle onto his back, and stepped out into the gloomy alleyway. His eyes were immediately drawn to the rosy splash of color that was Rochelle's shirt, and he made his way over to the woman as if magnetically drawn to her.
"Morning," he stated with care as he raised both eyebrows.
"Could have fooled me," the girl piped as she looked up wearily at a particularly dreary cloud formation, "But good morning to you too."
As the group made their way cautiously through the narrow gaps between buildings, Ellis grew more and more uncomfortable, both from the increasing pain in his stomach and from the pair of eyes that he could feel as they bore into the back of his skull. He knew that Nick was staring at him, and from the hint of annoyance that he could detect in the conman's steps behind him, apparently Nick knew that Ellis knew that he was staring at him. The fact that the boy refused to turn around and acknowledge him only served to annoy Nick even more.
The alley eventually became so narrow as they moved along that the five survivors had to file into a single line to proceed, with Coach in front and Nick bringing up the rear. The conman took it upon himself to walk so closely behind Ellis that the mechanic bit his lip as Nick's breath swirled forcefully against and around the back of his neck.
"Like I said before, we need to talk." There was still a hint of a hiss in Nick's throaty whisper and Ellis had to squeeze his shoulder blades together to stifle the shiver that threatened to wrack through them.
"Not right now...an' I already said I was sorry..." Ellis murmured as he shut his eyes tightly. He could feel the annoyance radiating off of the conman.
Having a one-on-one sit down with Nick wasn't currently at the top of the mechanic's list, and the slight feeling of dread that accompanied that thought was complicated by another blast of hot breath. Nick's lips couldn't have been more than half an inch away from the back of his neck, and this time Ellis couldn't control his shiver. Nor could he keep from thinking of the other time that Nick had been so damn close to him.
"...An' I meant it, too," Ellis huffed as a maddeningly itchy bead of sweat made its way down his forehead.
"A simple apology doesn't make things okay."
"Yeah, you're one ta' talk."
"What in the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Jus' forget it, Nick."
"Is everything alright back there?" Rochelle called out from behind Coach.
"Oh, everything's fine. Jus' fine. Nick's bein' his usual pissy self is all."
Nick had the sudden urge to wring the boy's neck, and his fingers twitched as he suppressed the desire with concerted effort. He was beyond frustrated with Ellis, and could not for the life of him explain the change in the boy's demeanor.
"Hey, Ellis," Francis called out in an attempt to ease the tension.
"What's up?"
"So I heard you saying something about Zoey being pretty."
"Oh... Yeah, I did say that."
"Before almost getting us all killed." Nick interjected.
Ellis winced slightly.
"You got the hot's for her?" Francis continued.
"Man, she is just about the most beautiful girl I have ever had the pleasure a' layin' eyes on!" the boy shouted, "In fact, even sayin' her name makes me smile. Zoey, Zoey, Zoey..."
Nick remained silent as he walked behind the rest of the group, but God help him- God help him- he couldn't keep from rolling his eyes.
The alley eventually opened up to reveal a large boulevard with bright neon signs adorning nearly every building, and with an abundance of streetlights lining the broad, cobblestone street on either side, the sight would have been enchanting were it not for the miserable weather, the slew of dead bodies at their feet, and the dark forms shambling about in the distance.
"Looks like Rayford wasn't such a bad place to live," Nick commented as they traveled down the street, and his eyes lit up upon seeing a pawn shop whose doors had been smashed in, "Hey, let's stop in here."
"Need ta' steal back your weddin' ring or somethin'?" Ellis commented under his breath.
Nick bit his tongue and pretended not to hear as he entered through the shattered glass doors.
"Come on," Coach sighed, "We might find somethin' useful in here."
Francis and Rochelle only ventured a short distance into the darkened shop.
"Want to keep watch with me while the boys find some toys to play with?" The girl asked the biker.
"Yeah, definitely," Francis smiled at her for a moment before looking out solemnly into the driving rain.
"Something on your mind?" She asked.
Ellis meandered through the shop some distance away from Nick and Coach. The sight of a myriad of antique toys lifted his mood. He stopped in front of a small, wooden rocking horse and marveled at the care and craftsmanship of its construction. The horse's body was painted a bright golden yellow, and thick knots of white yarn served as its mane and tail. Ellis pushed it slowly and watched as it rocked back and forth with an enormous grin on his face. At one time, the boy had a rocking horse of his own- a gift from his mom. Although he was too young to remember riding it firsthand, he had seen himself playing with the toy on several occasions, as it was just one scene in a plethora of embarrassing home movies that his mother had kept and shown to just about everyone they knew, Keith included.
Ellis chuckled at the thought and pushed the diminutive horse one more time before moving on.
"Bingo," Nick smirked as he shot through a glass display case to remove an elegant katana. As he affixed the sword's scabbard to his pistol holster, he turned his attention to Coach who had begun to shout.
"Hell, yeah! Now this is what I'm talkin' about!" The older man beamed as he observed a full suit of reproduction Renaissance armor, complete with a feather-plumed helmet.
"Nice, but...so what?" Nick asked as he joined him.
"Are you kidding? I'm puttin' this shit on!"
"Hah! I'd like to see that, actually." To Nick's surprise, Coach removed the breastplate and managed to brandish it over his chest.
"It's a tight fit, but I swear I'm gonna make use of this. Oughta' level the playing field!" Coach beat his fist into the thick steel.
"You've got to put on the helmet. It's no fun without the helmet."
"Come on, Nick. You know damn well that fightin' zombies with a helmet like this ain't practical."
"No, but it would be funny as hell. Where's Ellis? I bet he'd put it on. Hey, Ellis!"
"Yeah?"
"Get over here and put this on," Nick smirked.
"I think I'll pass on that one, Nick."
"Aw, come on! Think about how impressed Zoey would be if she saw you striding confidently up to the bridge while wearing it? You could be her knight-in-shining overalls."
Ellis merely shook his head and headed back towards the pawn shop's entrance.
"You said you lost a good man," Rochelle implored, breaking Francis away from his brooding thoughts.
"Bill..." Francis sighed, "I don't even want to start dealing with that just yet. It's one of the reasons why I'm here with you guys. I guess it's my way of running away from it all."
"Well then we don't have to talk about that if you don't want."
"Let's talk about you then." Francis grinned.
"Am I the other reason why you're here with us?" Rochelle asked. Although she crossed her arms and tapped her foot, she did tilt her head slightly and smile.
"Nope, you're just the icing on the cake."
The girl smirked and rolled her eyes, "I never got to properly thank you for saving my life."
"Oh, well I can't wait for you to properly thank me, then," the biker quickly laughed to diffuse any weight to the statement, "Where are you from? You obviously aren't from around here, so how did a girl like you end up in a place like this?"
"I'm from Cleveland, Ohio. I work for the news. Well, I wasn't exactly an anchorwoman at the time, but I was sent down to Savannah to cover a story on 'The Green Flu' seeing as I was one of the few from Eyewitness 10 who wasn't already sick. Cue the massive, terribly inconvenient zombie outbreak."
"Tell me about it. It really put a damper on all of my plans," Francis chuckled.
"Boy, you don't even know. Eventually, I joined up with Coach and the others, got the hell out of Dodge, and here we are. What about you? Your accent doesn't exactly scream of the southeast either."
"I'm from Fairfield, Pennsylvania."
"Holy shit! That's where this mess started...three weeks ago!"
"How did you know that? Oh yeah, you're with the news."
"So you've fought your way through zombies for the past three weeks? Damn, I'd better stick with you. You obviously must be doing something right."
Francis could feel his face flushing with color.
"Well, it hasn't exactly been three weeks of nonstop zombie-slaying," the biker cleared his throat, "but hell, with what me and my crew have been through, it sure has felt like three weeks. I guess it just took a little while for this infection to take off, but once it did- there was no stopping it after that."
"I wonder how it all started, you know?" Rochelle pondered aloud, cringing slightly at a sudden bolt of lightning.
Francis took the opportunity to move a little closer to the girl.
"That, I'm not sure about. Hell, no one has a clue about that- not even CEDA or the military."
"My news crew was partnered with CEDA, but I didn't know the military was involved."
"Well they are..." Francis's voice trailed off, and from the way his arms shook after clenching his hands into fists, Rochelle thought twice before asking further. However, her curiosity as a reporter-in-training was getting the better of her.
"How did you end up in Georgia?"
"The military brought us down here. Long story short: we fought our way out of Fairfield and its suburbs, ended up in the Allegheny forest, and bummed a ride in an armored tank-thingy."
"Cool."
"Yeah, that's what I said. Until we...parted ways with the military for reasons I really don't care to discuss. Sorry." There was a darkness to Francis's tone that made Rochelle bite her lip.
"I see."
Francis sighed and sat down on an ornamental sofa. He offered her the seat next to him and she sat down.
"They were headed to Louisiana, but the ride ended here in Georgia for us. Fine by me." Francis extended his arm casually along the sofa, behind Rochelle's shoulders.
"New Orleans..." the girl mumbled. It was where her group was headed, and she was almost engrossed enough in her thoughts to miss the location of the biker's arm.
"We ended up- Uh-" Francis abruptly ended mid-sentence as Ellis made his way over to them.
"Am I interruptin' somethin'?" the boy asked, a sly grin forming on his face as he observed the close proximity between Francis and Rochelle.
"No, not at all," the girl stammered as she scooted away from the biker, "Francis was just telling me about how he ended up in Georgia."
"Ooooh, I'd like ta' hear 'bout that, too!" the boy exclaimed.
"Uh...some other time," Francis looked away from both of them, "I don't want to talk about it anymore."
"Oh, okay."
Rochelle gave the biker a narrow-eyed look before Coach and Nick joined them.
"What's goin' on out here?" Coach huffed, "The two of you seem to be gettin' pretty close."
"Oh, they was closer jus' a second ago," Ellis winked and elbowed Coach's shoulder.
The older man grunted and made his way back out into the rain.
"Ellis!" Rochelle glared at the boy and pinched his arm as she walked past him.
"Aw, dang it! What did I do, now?"
"Dumbshit," Nick chided as he joined the rest of the group outside.
"Zoey, Zoey, Zoey..."
The five survivors continued down the boulevard before ducking into another alley to avoid a rather large group of infected milling about around a coffee shop. Like the one they had traversed before it, this one was narrow and cramped, yet twice as long. Once again they had filed into a single line with Coach in front, followed by Rochelle, then Francis, then Ellis, and lastly Nick.
"Zoey, Zoey, Zoey..."
"Ellis," Nick tried his best not to snarl the boy's name, "Why don't you tell us more about those 'things' that you and Rochelle saw last night."
"Oh yeah! Well, I really couldn't see much, on account a' how dark an' rainy it was, but there were four of 'em. They looked pretty big, too."
"Define 'big.' Were they Tank big or Boomer big?"
"Well I don't know, Nick. Come ta' think of it, they weren't really big at all since we was up on the second floor a' that building. They looked kind a' small from up there."
"Ellis, you are freakin' useless."
"Sorry, Nick. Zoey, Zoey, Zoey! Man, I jus' love sayin' that name! Rolls right off my tongue too."
"For fuck's sake. Rochelle, care to enlighten us?"
"I'm afraid I can't tell you much more. Like Ellis said, it was too dark, and the rain drops on the window didn't help. They didn't look like any sort of infected, actually. At least not any that we've seen before."
"Well that's just great," Nick mumbled. He was lost in thought until Ellis's newly acquired mantra became unbearable.
"Zoey, Zoey-"
"Ellis would you kindly shut the fuck up? Jesus!"
"What's the matter, Nick?"
"You're being an annoying little shit, that's what."
"I ain't botherin' no one else."
"What's your deal, man?" There was a hint of mockery in Francis's tone as he called out to the conman.
"You," this time Nick did snarl, "Don't even get me started on, you."
"Whatever," Francis chuckled.
"Y'all are really startin' to get on my nerves, you know that?" Coach began, but was cut off by the wailing of a small horde of zombies that began funneling into the alley and sprinting towards him from the front, "Oh shit! Forget what I just said and get ready to back me up!" Coach shouted as he crouched down gingerly on his good knee before unleashing his shotgun blasts into the tightly filed line of monsters.
The horde's forward momentum was stalled as each subsequent creature at the front of the line was torn asunder by the forceful bursts of each shot. Crimson streaks splattered the sides of both buildings as dismembered limbs, torsos, and heads piled up in front of Coach. As soon as he voiced his need to reload, Rochelle opened fire. Her bullets shredded through the ever increasing horde in a neat, concise stream. She found that she had to adjust her aim higher with each passing moment as the pile up of corpses in front of them was now at waist level. The incessant zombies were now climbing over their dead brethren- all the while aiding in the construction of the fleshy wall of bodies as they submitted to Rochelle's AK-47.
"Back up, people! Back up!" Coach yelled. The pile up of bodies was now looming above his head from his crouched position in front of Rochelle, and they began spilling forward- threatening to bury him. "Damn it! They're gonna end up blockin' our path!"
"Perfect. Just perfect," Nick muttered. He nearly lost his balance as he and the rest of the group began a slow retreat down the alley.
"Dang there's so many of 'em! I can't wait till it's my turn!" Ellis whooped.
"Francis, give them a second to climb over each other," Rochelle shouted above the screams as she reloaded, "Then let them have it!"
"I like the way you think!" Francis grinned down at her.
The wall of bodies began to erode under the weight of the remaining zombies as they scrambled over it, and Francis waited until a new string of the ghouls were just about to descend upon Coach before unleashing a single shot that sliced through their ranks like so much hot butter.
"Beautiful, y'all!" Coach called out as each sniper bullet brought down line after line of zombies, "Keep it up! There can't be that many left!"
"Oh, man! Oh, man! I'm almost up!" Ellis was hopping up and down not only from excitement, but also in an attempt to see around Francis's large frame and witness the carnage caused by the sniper rifle. He almost regretted giving his weapon to the biker.
Suddenly, Nick grabbed a hold of his shirt and yanked him close.
"Quiet, Overalls. Do you hear that?"
A series of unmistakable brays and snorts sent a chill down Nick's spine.
Shit...Not now...Not in a fucking tight-ass, cramped place like this!
Lo and behold, a hulking creature appeared at the end of the alley behind Nick, and attempted to wedge itself into the narrow corridor.
"We have a Charger!" Nick snarled.
"Ah shit! Maybe it won't be able to fit in here!" Ellis shouted.
"Well we're not gonna stand around and find out! Coach! Take care of the stragglers before the God damned Charger wipes us all out!"
"Damn it!" Coach huffed as he rose to his feet, "Alright! We gotta move!" He and Rochelle began firing into the remaining zombies as Francis scrambled to reload the sniper rifle. The five of them plowed through the fallen infected in a desperate attempt to scale the large mound of piled up corpses they had created.
The Charger managed to squeeze its body into the alley way and began a rampaging pursuit.
Coach bludgeoned the remaining infected with his golf club, raced towards the pile of dead zombies, and leapt onto it. His weight caused some of the slain creatures to tumble beneath him, but fortunately there were enough densely packed bodies to support him. He tried to ignore the fact that he was coming into such intimate contact with so many horrid, festering cadavers- their blood-soaked arms, fingers, and faces pressing against his body and face- but it was the smell that almost made him lose it. As he scrambled onto the other side, he prayed that the rancid, fleshy barricade would be strong enough to bear the force of the Charger's impact.
The asymmetrical monster let out a roar as it surged forward.
Francis grabbed Rochelle and hoisted the petite girl onto the sizable corpse-pile. She used the momentum to quickly roll over to the other side.
The Charger left a stream of its own blood and shredded flesh in its wake as the enormous arm and shoulder scraped against the brick building on its right side. It grunted in pain when the bones of its tiny arm snapped as it battered against the stone building on its left side. Additionally, Nick had begun firing a clip into its face with his submachine gun. Although the friction of the tight space slowed down the speed of its charge, the pain only served to intensify the Charger's fury and desire to kill.
"Ellis! Your turn!" Francis shouted as he began firing at the Charger.
"No, I'm gonna help you guys!"
"No matter how much I would love to see you shoot Nick, it's too cramped for you to use that shotgun! Now get moving!"
"But-"
"God damn it, Overalls, just do it!" Nick commanded.
Ellis begrudgingly slipped past Francis and scrambled onto the zombie blockade. His companions were right. It was too risky for him to fire the shotgun from his position behind Nick. Again, he regretted giving his sniper rifle to Francis. As he made it on top of the pile, the mechanic observed the chaos taking place on the other side. The alley had given way to another brightly lit boulevard, and a Jockey had latched onto Coach. Rochelle was struggling to aim at the little creature while waiting for a moat of Spitter acid blocking her path to dissipate.
"Shit, you guys! Hurry up! Jockey's on Coach!"
"Well take care of it, Ellis! Our hands are full!" Nick unsheathed his katana and launched it at the Charger. The blade entered the creature's smashed skull, and it skidded to an abrupt stop, suspended on either side by the tight alley walls.
Satisfied that Nick and Francis were safe, Ellis jumped onto the street and took off after Coach and Rochelle.
The Jockey had managed to rip off Coach's eye bandages, and the man shouted in pain as the little beast's fingers pressed against the tender skin of his eyelid. Rochelle's well-placed bullet knocked the creature off his back and onto the ground in a lifeless heap, and the young woman steadied Coach as he rose to his feet. Ellis joined them after ending the Spitter's life, and together the three began making their way back up the street towards the blocked alley.
"God damn it, that was close," Nick sighed as he wiped his brow. Just before he could remove the katana from the Charger's skull, he was punched in the back of the head and viciously pinned against the wall of the brick building.
"It's been way too long, Brother," Francis growled, "Way too fucking long."