Scream, Scream

Today's song is Scream, Scream by The Battle Royale.

The screams had begun to come less and less frequently while the moaning outside was only getting louder. He knew it was only a matter of time before he too fell victim to the roving hordes unless he did something and did it quickly.

"Alright Sammy," he whispered to the whimpering dog at his feet, "we've got to get out of here bud so I'm going to need you to work with me."

He crawled away for a moment and returned seconds later with the dog's worn leather leash and a padded muzzle. Reaching over quickly, he pinned down the struggling animal and quickly slid the muzzle over his snout.

"I'm sorry Sam, I really am." He whispered as he looked into the accusing brown eyes of his only companion and petted him gently. "I know you don't like the muzzle but I can't have you barking once we get outside. I'll take it off as soon as we're out of danger okay."

Alright, he thought, I'll need a weapon. Knowing there was nothing useful to be found in the bathroom he crawled silently toward his kitchen only to come out empty handed a few minutes later. Knives would work against normal attackers but he had seen what these things could do and there was no way he wanted to have to get close enough to use a knife.

Crawling back towards his bedroom, he stopped dead when he heard a sound that made his blood run cold. There was something pounding on the large window in the front room. Not for the first time in the past few days, he cursed his decision to live in a one story duplex with a giant window taking up the majority of the front wall. When he had signed the lease after moving to Austin it had seemed like a great feature but now he wished he had chosen a windowless third floor apartment.

The pounding continued as he gave up crawling and sprinted for the bedroom and began looking frantically for something with which to defend himself. Finally, his eyes landed on the old wooden baseball bat propped up next to his hookah by the backdoor. He picked it up without any hesitation and scooted back to the bathroom.

He had to physically carry the large pit bull out of the bathroom and place him on his feet by the backdoor. The front door was no longer an option since it was next to the large window. He just prayed none of the zombies had made it around the side of the house and into his backyard. His only plan so far was to get them both to his Bronco and if that didn't happen they would have to make a run for it towards the woods behind the house and try to hotwire a vehicle. Neither was an ideal plan but he was running out of options fast.

Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass could be heard coming from the front room. With a deep breath he threw the backdoor open and slammed it shut behind him after witnessing his very obese neighbor Ronald come crashing into the room with a huge hunk missing out of his flabby neck.

As he surveyed his surroundings he was relieved not to find anything lurking in his pitiful excuse for a backyard. Walking as silently as possible, he had to almost drag his chicken of a dog toward the front of the house but as he peered cautiously around the corner, he found himself face to face with one of the recently undead.

"So much for small favors," he muttered darkly as the thing rushed toward him at startling speed.

He recognized it as having once been his kind, blue haired old neighbor from up the street. He didn't know her name but she had always waved whenever he would walk by on his way to the taco stand at the end of the street.

"Sorry ma'am," he said as he got into his old batting stance. "But there is no way I'm being taken out by an old blue hair like yourself."

As soon as she was within range, he took a swing that would have knocked any ball right out of the park. The hit was good, connecting with her left temple and sending her straight to the ground.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," he said as he bent down to pick up the worn leash where he had dropped it.

Suddenly, the ground flew up to meet him as the old blue hair latched onto his ankle and yanked his feet out from under him with surprising strength. He landed with a muffled thud that disoriented him momentarily but he was quickly snapped back to reality when he felt the putrefied old woman began to gnaw on his ankle.

"Oh for fucks sake," he swore as he reached for the wooden bat at his fingertips. "These are my last pair of Doc Martin work boots. You're fucking mental if you think I'm just going to let you chew threw them with your gnarly old dentures." Grabbing a hold of his only his only weapon, he twisted his body uncomfortably and began beating his attacker about the head with it.

Finally, she stopped moving when her skull cracked open after a mighty blow and he was able to disentangle himself quickly from her gnarled grasp.

Amazingly, none of the other flesh hungry monsters currently roaming his once sleepy neighborhood had been alerted by their confrontation. Once again he reached for the leash and after jumping to his feet scooped up the large dog and sprinted toward the old Bronco still parked in front of the house.

He had never been so thankful for his inability to remember to lock his car in his life as he was when he wrenched open the large door and tossed the dog inside. Heaving himself into the car he slammed the door closed just as another zombie came pelting toward him and rammed into the door with a crunch.

"Mother fucker!" he swore as yet another zombie, attracted by its brethren, threw itself at the car with an ear piercing shriek. By now all the zeds in the neighborhood were aware of his presence and had begun converging on his car.

Reminding himself to breath, he fumbled with the keys, dropping them twice before he finally managed to get them in the ignition. "Ah ha!" he shouted triumphantly as he turned the key expecting to hear the enormous engine roar to life.

Instead he listened as the engine sputtered and refused to turn. "This is not fucking happening!" he growled before punched the steering wheel as the car rocked when yet another zombie joined the hungry crowd currently beating on his windows.

"This is so fucking cliché," he yelled angrily. "I refuse to be the sorry mother fucker who gets pulled out of the car and eaten. Alright think. In the movies the car never starts until the third try so I'm still okay."

With a new found confidence, he turned the key again and still the engine wouldn't turn. Although his confidence was slipping quickly, he reasoned that he still had one more try before he was zombie food. With a deep breath he turned the key again and was met with another pathetic sputter.

"Oh fuck no!" he screamed as the glass on the passenger's side began to crack. "Fuck the movies!" he yelled as he tried one more time to start the hunk of metal that might soon be his coffin. This time he was met with the mighty roar of the engine just as the glass shattered and a bloodied hand shot through the opening.

"Later fuckers!" he taunted as he threw the large vehicle into reverse and hit the gas. The force shook off the hungry crowd and managed to mow down all those behind the car and even some in the street. Shifting into drive quickly he floored it and shot forward out of his former neighborhood.

"Holy shit that was a close one but we made it man!" he crowed triumphantly reaching out to pet Sammy but encountered empty air instead.

Looking in the rearview mirror, he was surprised to find the large dog cowering in the backseat rather than in his normal position up front with him. Shaking his head while he gently removed the muzzle, he decided the trauma of what had just happened was probably too much for the gentle giant and that he just needed some time to calm down.

Driving through Austin he was forced to dodge barricades and avoid major streets as he fled the city. Several days earlier the National Guard had put the entire metropolis under quarantine in order to try and contain the outbreak. Judging from the carnage and abandoned military vehicles, as well as the many zombies stumbling around in uniform, their campaign had been a bust.

For days he had hidden with the frightened dog in the small duplex as shots rang out around them. At first the screams had been periodic and the shots could be heard every few minutes but as time progressed the sound of gun fire dropped off and the screams became continual until they finally stopped. They had been replaced by the hungry shrieks and guttural moans of the walking dead.

Everywhere he looked, there were bodies both walking and non. The entire city had become a graveyard. As he navigated his way out of the cement hell, he realized that other than his vehicle and the mobs of dead he saw milling about there was no other movement. There were no birds sitting atop the telephone wires or cats running across the street. It seemed that he and Sammy were the last living things left in Austin.

After several quick cutbacks and many detours, he finally left the city behind him and hit the open road. Now he just had to figure out where to go. There was no point in going home, he had no living family and Phoenix was surely in ruins. The only reason he would go back there would be for-

He stopped that train of thought immediately. He had burned that bridge long ago and he was certain that even if he were able to get back into the city he would not be welcomed with open arms. He knew she was alive, there was no doubt in his mind that she would survive the zeds, she was too smart not. He just hoped that wherever she was she would be strong enough to survive the coming days of harsh winters and possible starvation.

With a sigh he ran his fingers through his hair and pulled out the map from his glove compartment. Searching the map for a reasonable destination he couldn't help but be drawn to the west. Going east would be stupid, too many big cities and if he went too far north he would encounter harsher winters. The west would be a better direction to head in. Besides, in states like Arizona and New Mexico, the towns tended to be smaller and farther apart.

Not wanting to spend too much time on the road he decided New Mexico was his best bet. The only question now was were to go. As his eyes swept the map, they landed on a location he had discussed at length years ago when given this exact hypothetical situation. Without any other ideas about where to go he turned his head toward the backseat.

"What do you think Sammy?" he asked the dog curled up on a pile of old towels. "Should we follow the old plan?" He didn't receive any answer, not that he was expecting one but having someone to talk to every once in awhile would be nice.

Years ago when he had moved to Austin it had been because of a girl, well two girls actually. He had run away from one and into the waiting claws of another. It was not a decision he was proud of and he had regretted every day since.

After Tanya dumped him for refusing to become someone he was not, he had hit a rough patch as the reality of what he had done began to eat at him. It took him having to be admitted to the hospital after overdosing on pills to grow some balls and finally apologize.

Being the angel she was, she had forgiven him without hesitation and they had built a shaky long distance friendship until he fucked that up too. Kate was the devil in disguise and he had allowed her to ruin any chances he ever had of reuniting with the only good thing in his life. Ever since then all he had done was work and come home, always alone.

He had no friends outside of his work acquaintances and his dog was his only companion. Every night after closing the bar where he worked, he would come home to drink and play his guitar while he thought of the girl who possessed his heart until he eventually passed out in an alcohol induced stupor.

It was a sorry existence and he knew that but felt no motivation to try and change his situation. He deserved every ounce of misery he felt and more since he was a vile creature who didn't deserve to be loved.

As he drove his morose ass through the once great state of Texas, he allowed himself to reminisce about happier times, getting lost in his memories. He had been forced to stop twice for gas but had been lucky enough to avoid any unwanted visitors. He had even managed to score an entire box of Slim-Jims from the second, less bloody abandoned convenience store.

"You know Sammy," he said seriously while tearing off a large bite of his Slim-Jim and chewing noisily, "they should really change the Nutrition Facts label on Slim-Jims to read, You Obviously Don't Care because there is no way anything in here is even remotely healthy. Or natural," he added before taking another large bite.

"Hell yes!" he shouted suddenly dropping his half eaten Slim-Jim and causing the poor dog to jump in fright.

"Zed in the road bud! Ten points if I can knock its head clean off when I run it over!" he shouted jubilantly as prepared to mark down yet another ten points on the notepad he had found in the convenience store near the Slim-Jims.

In an effort to try and stay awake during the road trip from hell, he had invented a new game. He would attempt to take out as many zeds as possible and then awarded himself points for doing so. He had assigned set point values based on the manner in he destroyed them and the difficulty level of said manner. Points were also awarded for style any smart comments he could make before and after the fact.

So far he had racked up over two hundred points for the twenty-six zombies he had taken out since inventing the game. Part of him was disappointed that he hadn't thought of it sooner since he would have been well over three-hundred if he could count the scores of zeds he had mowed down in Austin.

"Look at this poor fucker," he laughed darkly as he sped toward his target. "Just stumbling around in the middle of the desert. Poor stupid bastard doesn't know what's about to hit him. Oh look Sammy, he 's noticed us, nice. Six Slim-Jims say he's going to start running right for the car like an idiot."

He pressed his foot harder on the gas pedal to gain the speed necessary to decapitate the zombie with one hit.

"Well that's weird," he said as he ran his hand across his several day old stubble. "It almost looks like he's trying to hitch a… holy fuck!" he shouted as he grabbed the wheel with both hands and slammed on the brakes with both feet.

The old blue Bronco skidded along the asphalt as the brakes squealed noisily in protest. Realizing the swiftly approaching car would never stop in time, the figure in the middle of the road scrambled to get out of the way of the death machine . It managed to jump out of the way just in time to avoid a messy and untimely demise.

As the driver sat white faced and shaking in the car the hitchhiker calmly stood and dusted himself off before ambling toward the stopped vehicle and knocking politely on the unbroken glass of the passenger side window.

"Hey man, can I bum a lift?" he asked as though he were asking an old friend for a cigarette.

The driver turned his wide green eyes toward his light blue ones staring hopefully at him and nodded once in assent before slowly turning his head back to face the front.

With a grin, the disheveled hitcher pulled up the handle and clambered happily inside the air conditioned cab."Name's Jasper," he said sticking his hand out in greeting. "Jasper Whitlock."

Shaking himself from the state of shock he had found himself in once he realized he had almost committed vehicular homicide, the driver hesitantly extended a dirty hand. "Edward," he replied, managing to crack a small smile of his own. "Edward Cullen."

XII

XII

XII

I feel like running to hide. I really hope I did Edward's escape from Austin justice. I promise there will be more about what happened between him and Bella in the future but for now we're just picking up strays like Jasper. Also, Sammy the dog is not Sam in dog form he's just based on an actual dog by that name. Anyway I hope you're not offended by Edward's dirty mouth and if you are I apologize now because it's only going to get worse. Please leave me some love and let me know, what you thought. Until next time my delightfully delicious little tater tots.

XOXO,

Bellarella