Author's Notes: Sorry for the lack of updates recently, my intrest just diminishs once in a while from completing my stories, however i've been impressed by people's continued intrest with my work which in turn peeked my intrest once again. Enjoy.
We're Gonna Get Those Bastards Chapter 11
Swollen bare feet paced down a sandy beach, glowing a radiant orange in the setting sun, as an obese man clad in a white dress shirt and pants confidently strolled over the damp shells underneath him.
Boomer's face kept a calm composure, his long golden locks of hair that hung down to his shoulders, gently flapping in the salty breeze, as he came to a stop at the sight of a fastly approaching white stallion.
The white steed came to a hault with a restless neigh, and Boomer could make out his beloved sitting atop the stallion, clad in the most elegant of blood stained bikinis, entrancing droplets of emerald colored drool dripping sexily down her mouth as Spitter grinned down at him.
"Hello my sweet, shall we take a relaxing stroll through the waves, or would you rather we cut the formalities and make love in the sand?" Boomer asked in a deep sexy voice that was nothing like his normal tone. Spitter gently parted her chapped lips and took in a breath of air to speak, "Wake up city-boy" came a nasty, masculine tone, causing Boomer to raise an eyebrow, "What?" he asked before he felt a sharp pain on his cheek.
In a daze the chubby infected regained consiouness, only to realize him and his friends were currently imobolized, tied with something incredibly long, durable, and...slimey, "Eeew, couldn't you just use rope?" Hunter whined as he struggled against Smoker's tongue, which the southern infected used to tie up the group.
Boomer took in his surroundings as his visible eye focused on the the dank interior of a rotting mansion, it's spacious interior seeping with dust glistening from the faint sunshine outside.
He then noticed Jockey, Charger, and his beloved Spitter smirking down at them, their dark beady red eyes forcasting nothing but woe and misery for their captives.
Jockey, who was currently perched up on Charger's massive shoulder, hopped off and began to slowly pace around his prey, "Well lookie what we done snagged in our neck of the woods, a bunch of Yankies" he chuckled evilly.
Hunter attempted to struggle against his bonds, "Yankies? I haven't played baseball since I was in middle school!" He oomphed as Witch nudged her shoulder against his, "For Christ's sakes Hunter, just be quiet!" she pleaded, and Witch suddenly felt a heavy weight on her back.
Turning her head, she gasped at Jockey's grin, "Weeeell, don't we got ourselves a pretty little missy right here! Evening darling, names Jockey, but you could just call me Ke-" Jockey was cut off as Hunter shifted his weight into the little creature, who fell to the ground with a thud, "Hands off the woman pal!" he yelled, and as Jockey got up to attack the snarling Hunter, he found himself held back by Charger.
"No, we made an agreement that they would be put through the test." Witch raised an eyebrow, "Test, what kinda test?" Spitter shifted her hip out to the side in an attempt to look sexy for Smoker, "A test to prove your worth darlins, we gotta see how good ya are wit dealin with survivors."
"ssseeasadgsgdgsdg" Smoker attempted to say, even though his tongue was currently forced out of his mouth, and being used as binding. "Uh...whad he say?" Spitter asked confused.
Hunter decided to clarify, "He said that if there were actually survivors here, their obviously suffering enough in this Southern shithole that messing with them would be too inhumane, even for inhuman monsters like us."
Jockey's blood boiled at the insult, and seconds later he was on top of the restrained Smoker, delivering numerous punches to his head, as Smoker cried out in pain.
Witch leaned closer to Hunter's ear, "Man, Smokers got a lot of guts to say that at a time like this" Hunter smirked, "He didn't, he said he needed to use the bathroom." He then turned to his friend Boomer, who held a dreamy look in his eyes, "You've been quiet this whole time buddy, whats up?"
Hunter's eyebrow raised slightly as Boomer failed to respond, his eyes set in front of him in an awkward glazed-over grin. Following his friend's line of sight, he laid his eyes upon the Southen group's only female member, and his eyes began to widen, "Oh my God."
Witch took this time to struggle against her bonds enough to look over at Tank, "Tank, get us out of here!" she commanded, and the giant member used all of his strength to stand up, all of his friend's feet dangling in the air as he stumbled around to balance himself and his comrades, accidently knocking over Spitter and Charger in the process. Jockey clutched onto Smoker's head for dear life, "What the hell ya'll doing?" he cried.
Hunter was able to free one of his arms and quickly pointed towards a nearby broken door, "That way, go!" he screamed and Tank roared before he began to stampede towards freedom.
Spitter scowled as she sat on her butt, and looked over to her companion, "Charger, go get'em." Charger nodded and stood up, releasing a howl as he picked up speed.
Jockey shook violently as he clutched the weezing member's cranium, looking at the closley approaching double doors, "Stop ya freakin morons! Thats the door to the outdoor balcony!" But his cry fell on deaf ears, mostly do to the fact that Charger plowed into them from behind.
The group not only smashed easily through the wooden doors, but straight through the balcony's railing and cascaded two stories onto the hard dirt of the mansion's courtyard.
Smoker's tongue loosened upon impact, contracting back into his mouth as the group laid sprawled out on the ground. Charger choked up grass and gravel as he attempted to rise, only to have a giant hand latch onto his entire head, lifting him painfully into the air.
Charger gasped as his friend dangled helplessly in Tank's grip, but when he attempted to intervene, a hooded form tackled him painfully into the ground, along with the group's only female member, Witch.
Spitter arrived at the edge of the balcony and looked down just in time to see her friend's perilous position at the hands of the northern infected. "Please don't hurt them!" Her pleads seem to fall on deaf ears, and as she contemplated what to barter, she gave a sly smirk down at Smoker, "If ya'll let'em go, i'll letcha take me as a sex slave" she finished with a wink to the confused Smoker.
"I'm game" Boomer quickly shouted, But as Witch finshed subdueing Charger with a mean punch to the jaw, she glared up at her friend, "Eww no thats disgusting! I say we just kill them all." Hunter made himself comfy on Charger's unconsious stomach while he pondered what they should do.
Then he looked over to the feebly struggling Jockey, "You said there were other survivors here...could you maybe take us to them?" Witch glared at her boyfriend, "Hunter, what are you doing?"
"I'm just saying, we left the north because we couldn't find anymore survivors to hunt...but maybe since the vacations a bust, we could at least do what kept us occupied beforehand." Witch pouted, but didn't attempt a rebuttal.
"Yes yes we can take ya to em, just tell Sasquatch here ta put me down!" Jockey cried out, and Hunter nodded to his giant friend who reluctantly put the little creature down.
An hour later inside a large dirty bar, several mindless infected paced aimlessly around the dusty wooden interior, stumbling over barstools and empty bottles strewn around the ground.
Suddenly rapid machine gun fire riddled the creatures full of incenderary ammo, and as they limped around within an inferno of agony, they each gave one last groan before plopping down dead.
As the smoke cleared from their bodies, a man in a white suit stepped over a corpse and took a drag of his cigarette, "Ah, nothing like charred zombie flesh to make you thirsty for an ice cold beer" Nick grinned, laying his uzi on the bar counter and taking a vacant stool.
A large black man sat down next to him, propping his 12 gauge up against the bar and picking up a menu, "Hmn, says here they have cheeseburgers. I wonder if they still have the patties in the back." An overly-happy young man quickly propped himself down next to Coach's stool, forgetting about his two handguns strapped carelessly to his thighs, "Count me in on one of those cheeseburgers Coach! Reminds me about this one time me and Keith experimented with each other at summer camp, and-" "Damnit Ellis, can't we just relax for a bit, without hearing a story about your douchebag friend Keith?"
Coach glanced behind him to the group's final member, who defiantly refused to take a seat as she continuously looked at the bar's door, "How can you guys just relax like this? We're not in a safehouse you know, this is a bar out in the middle of Savannah, with plenty of doors and windows."
Nick breathed in a puff of smoke, blowing it out calmly, "Relax sweetheart, theres no safehouse for miles, and plus, their not usually stored with liquor." Reaching behind the counter he swipped a bottle of beer and casually popped off the cap.
As he took a few greedy swigs, Coach rose from his stool, picking up his shotgun and walking over to Rochelle, "If it makes you feel better Rochelle, i'll help you clear out the area of the infected so you feel safe." Rochelle smiled at Coach, gave him a nod, and the two left out the front door.
Unbeknownest to them, 8 creatures stared at the two remaining members from their place on the second story balcony, "Man this is gonna be too easy, with the other two gone, we can kill them in no time."
Jockey seemed shocked, "Kill em'? Oooh no, we ain't killin no one, them two are too much fun for that!" The northern infected were confused, "What? You guys don't kill them?"
Spitter chuckled, "Hell no, we never kill em', we just like ta fuck wit them, you know, ta entertain us." Hunter felt slightly intrigued, "...Care to demonstrate?" Jockey was hoping for them to ask that, "Gladly."
Down at the bar, Nick continued to nurse his beer while Ellis struggled to open a plastic package, "Damn peanuts" he muttered as he attempted to pry open his snack.
Suddenly he fell off his stool as a hunch-backed creature landed on Nick's back, "What the fuck?" Nick screamed as Jockey cackled sadisticly, manuvering him throughout the bar, colliding him into walls, tables, and windows.
"Ellis! Get this fucking thing off me!" Ellis quickly stood up from the ground and pulled out his handguns, "Don't worry Nick o'l buddy, I got em'!" he declared as he took aim towards Nick's Head.
Nick quickly threw up his hands, "No you idiot! Your gonna hit me, just grab something and hit him with it!" Ellis looked around quickly before grabbing a frying pan placed behind the counter.
Jockey smirked as Ellis raised the pan over his head, and as he brought it down, Jockey moved Nick's head to the side, allowing the pan to connect violently with the survivor's cranium.
"Ouch, what the hell Ellis?" Nick cried out, "D-don't worry buddy, I got it!" Ellis began to swing the frying pan radiclly, missing the creature every time, and connecting with Nick.
About a minute later, Jockey heard footsteps approaching the front door, quickly jumped off of Nick's shoulders and disappeared through a window.
Nick stumbled in a painful daze, as Ellis rubbed the back of his head while looking at the window Jockey escaped through, "Aww shucks, I almost had em'." Nick growled and tore the pan from the boy's hands, "Yeah you almost had him alright, you son of a bitch!" he screamed as he began to wack Ellis painfully on the shoulders and head.
"Man, that was awesome" Hunter whispered from the balcony, and Spitter merely smirked, "Ya ain't seen the good part yet." Suddenly the front door to the bar opened and Coach and Rochelle walked in, both gasping at the sight of Nick beating Ellis with a frying pan.
Rochelle stomped over to the con-man and yanked the pan out of his hands. Nick gasped as Rochelle quickly raised it over her head, "W-wait Rochelle, you don't know what ha-" BANG "-ppend" he finished as he landed to the floor unconcious, the frying pan impeded onto his head.
Coach and Ellis stared awkwardly at their friend's body as Rochelle took a seat at the bar, and began to finish Nick's beer, "Area is secured." And although Rochelle said that, they could hear faint laughter from the floor above.
Up on the second floor, the special infected tried to muffle their laughs as Jockey walked back onto the balcony, "So how was that?" Witch wiped a tear from her eye, "That was great" she admitted as she fell back into uncontrolable laughter.
"Good, then maybe you can help us with our newest victims" Jockey grinned, and the northern infected's laughs diminished into confusion, "Newest victims?" Smoker questioned.
Twenty minutes later, the southern infected brought their northern counterparts to a barred red door in the middle of a southern suburb, "Thats a safehouse door" Boomer muttered as the group watched from a nearby rooftop.
"Yup, and you may wanna take a gander at the occupants, their from the north too" Spitter chuckled as the latch from the safehouse door was removed, revealing four tired souls, on a seemingly endless quest to freedom.
"Holy shit" Hunter muttered as the group laid eyes on Zoey, Luis, Francis, and Bill.
Author's Notes: Please read and review, and feel free to give me an idea about how the special infected can prank the northern survivors.