Field of Corpses

"What the fuck?" Tre said a little bit too loudly. Not only did it make Mike and Billie jump a bit, but down the hall in the other room they could hear Todd clearing his throat.

"What'da hell's goin' on out'der, boys?" He hollered.

"Nothing," Mike said quickly, "Tre's just telling us his sex stories over here."

Billie smirked at Mike, thinking it was going to work. Todd wouldn't be interested in hearing perverted experiences during a zombie Apocalypse, they thought. He'd continue trying to take his nap, with his old shot gun, loaded, perched up against the door frame. He was always ready to blow one those mother fucker's heads off if one came too close for comfort.

In ways, we all thought of him as a crazy old man, lost in some paradox where to him, they were like his sons, fighting for survival. The racists bastard always had some sort of shitty advice to give the boys, and they always listened, because if they didn't, they weren't sure if he'd decide to keep them around or not. There was always something with him, and he always had them all on edge.

Todd was always on edge, himself, swearing up and down that one of 'em was going to get into the damn house. He told Billie, Mike, and Tre over, and over, that when it happened, the corpse would get us all, and without Todd around, they would have been dead months back. At first, they all tried not to laugh, but after a while they got over it, knowing how serious he actually was about being the hero.

Unfortunately, Todd just so happened so be more interested in talking about girls right then, thinking all about them, instead of protecting everyone from zombies. Before the boys knew it, Todd came shuffling his feet into the living room, holding his gun, lazily, and set it down on the ground as he sat on the chair. "I'll tell ya what," he started, "had one heck of a woman. 'Rode me like a cowgirl, 'n I 'bout bucked 'er right off!"

He started laughing his annoyance of a laughter, hacking his lungs out inbetween each set of chuckles. Tre was the only one laughing along with him. Billie was too fixated on the outside, noticing the girl trying to sit up. It scared him, honestly, but he didn't want to say anything. If this girl, zombie or not, managed to get up at all, she deserved a fighting chance.

If Todd were to take notice of the girl, he would shoot her right back down. Then again, if she was really a zombie, maybe trying to take her down only pissed her off. Maybe now they would have a zombie trying to come after them after all. It didn't take long for Mike to catch onto Billie's fear filled being.

He looked out, noticing the animals, now standing, ready to start walking along, then slowly, the girl started to crawl away. "Oh fuck," Mike thought, "Todd can't see her."

"So," Billie turned to Todd, chiming into whatever conversation was going on, "how many girls have you fucked?" He tried distracting Todd, but Tre noticed Mike staring out the window.

"Well-," Todd started to answer, but was interrupted, thanks to Tre.

"What the fuck are you staring at, dude?"

Mike was quick to turn around. He just had such high hopes for that girl getting away. He felt bad even turning his back, but knew Todd had to stay down. He was starting to look curious, by the way he repositioned himself onto the edge of the seat. Mike had to come up with some answer to satisfy Tre enough, without him needing to get up, to see what he was looking at, for himself.

"Uhh," Mike struggled, stepping toward them, away from the window, "The ocean just threw a lot of waves at the beach, and I kinda... zoned out... I guess I'm just real fucked up," He lied, walking toward the group. "We should smoke another bowl. Todd, are you down?"

Todd slapped his knee, "Shit, boy! I thought you'd never ask. 'Haven't smoked the ganja since I was your age!"

"You've really been waiting for us to ask you to smoke this whole time?" Billie asked, fully tuned into the conversation now, quite irritated at the man, but with a bit more of a toleration for him. "I've been growing it for years now!" Billie hollered, and Mike and Tre started to laugh, but Billie only smiled at Todd in disbelief. The man was probably stealing nugs from him the whole time.

"I'll tell ya, I could smell it, I just weren't too sure." The hillbilly said, reclining back in the chair, not caring about his hairy gut spilling out of his shirt. Once Todd started to laugh, it all shook around, and at that point, all 3 men were staring at it in disgust, trying to laugh with him, and not at him. Tre wasn't successful, unfortunately.

"What's so funny, boy?" Todd suddenly shouted, sitting up, looking directly at Tre. Fun time was over, apparently. He could tell Tre was laughing a bit too hard for what was just said.

"I just know what you mean is all!" Tre retorted, trying to laugh a little bit as he spoke, so it didn't seem like he was 'talking back'.

Todd gave him a stern look, making all of them think that shit was about to get a little bit more stressful. Billie looked away, waiting for Todd's remark, but was instantly taken back when he heard him start to laugh. "Shit! You aint nothin but a youngin'. How're ou supposed'ta know anything?!" He laughed in Tre's face.

You could see in Tre's arms that he was doing all he could do hold back from saying something back to Todd, but he knew better. So, there he sat, straining himself. It was just over some plants in a few of the rooms of the apartment-building Todd and the guys took over. Still, it wasn't necessary for Todd to chime in with words like a dirty, stubby finger, poking at your chest.

Everyone had a shortened fuse, and unfortunately, Tre was long over-due for one of his breakdowns. All of the men had 'em, and still, they were all shocked that Tre had been holding his in so long. Todd was the hammer tapping away at a bullet; Tre was inevitably going to explode within days, or sooner.

An outburst like that would only bring attention to the run down apartment building, they stayed in, having knocked down walls to combine a few apartments; It's all they had. The doors locked, and blocked with any piece of furniture they could find, being left from the previous owners, due to their expecting deaths. They felt safe enough, but if enough noise was made, and enough of the zombies came at once, there'd be no hiding.

So Billie stood, twiddling his thumbs, quicker than usual, and kept a good eye on Tre, while Mike watched Todd. Mike was nervous too, hoping that Tre could keep his cool long enough for the poor dead, or dying girl to make her escape. Both of them so badly wanted to look out the window to see if she'd made any progress, but for some reason, saying you want to enjoy the scenery around there wasn't believable. 'Something about all the smeared blood, bones, and rotting corpses on the streets just wasn't mesmerizing, even as the sky was turning into fire.

"Woah! Look," Tre stood up, pointing, completely ignoring Todd. "I haven't seen the sun set like that for a while."

Billie and Mike glanced over to the window again, looking up at what Tre was pointing, just to satisfy. Of course it was beautiful, but Billie's mind instantly went to the girl, and Mike could see Tre starting to walk toward the window. Sure, Tre was only trying to distract himself from snapping at Todd, but if Tre saw that girl, he wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut.

"Don'tchu walk away when I'ma speakin' to you, shi'head!" Todd went to get up, and Billie and Mike could feel the intensity of their anxiety.

Back where the helicopter landed...

Christian groaned, as his head fell over to the side. Pain shot through his entire body, every second he moved. The antidote the government had given him was wearing thin, and the place he had been bitten on his ankle was starting to ooze. He could feel the puss trickling down, soaking his pants. He was also covered in his own blood, and all he could think about was the trickery, and the dead bitch who ruined his life.

She had killed Bobbi, his wife. She had come back for them, to make sure Christian got to safety. He and Bobbi were dying to get out of that hell-hole of a country as soon as they could. The army, or government, Bobbi didn't care who, promised her a while ago that they would hand over her freedom, being a brand new helicopter, to get her to safety, as long as the last half-deads were killed. There would be none of those two swimming across the ocean, contaminating any other country.

The other countries had threatened our president of the United States; he would be dead if our stupidity wasn't by the end of a short 5 years. It soon became a widespread panic throughout the government, and they knew there was only one thing to do; It was just a shame they didn't get to go forth on their own ideas on their own time. Bad enough the other countries thought the ending our country's existence was their idea, but they never specified if the only intelligent ones were granted a place to stay, if they made it out alive, and unharmed.

There were enough of the crazy war-vets that would do anything to get out of the zombie apocalypse that was soon to come, along with the ones who had enough strength, or money. The government knew this, and pondered many days how they only kill off the ones bringing the stupidity levels up, beyond redemption, of the non-violent kind.

They also didn't want their hands dirty, no matter if they would lose another mere president. So they tried to combine every idea, but every person was different. Some had intelligence in ways other didn't excel in, as well. Not every 'smart person' was as smart as the other, so not every test would have the same outcome. Some might die, even if they had not truly been apart of the country's stupidity.

After so long, they wouldn't have been surprised if only a few hundred would make it anyway. It'd been so long since anyone had a mind for themselves, even before the zombie-corruption began. The government had almost given up.

They were at such a loss, not being able to come up with such a perfectly thought out plan to kill off the American idiots. It wasn't until the first gun-shot break out did the president exhale the deepest sigh of relief.

"They'll kill themselves..." He whispered to himself, but loud enough so every surrounding ear could listen. "Don't you see?"

He stared out, over a small store being robbed, and like always, the cops were not there on time. So he though, until he saw the cop car parked up on the curb, just a little bit further down the street. The front windshield was bashed in, and there seemed to be red smeared across the glass. It gave him the chills, and that's when he realized, every building, since the crashed car, had a smashed front window, or busted door.

"What's going on?" He gasped, suddenly. Some came running to his side to peer over from the same window, on one of the top suites in the hotel.

They all watched, in awe, as a staggering police officer came out of the store, covered in blood, appearing to have a rather large chunk of skin missing from his throat. Before any could even say a word, they all had the same childish thought in their minds; zombies were real.

Suddenly, more staggering citizens came tumbling out of the buildings, and at once, they all seemed to herd together, heading toward the next victim. The hotel was on their way through the city.

"Sir, what do we do?" One of the officers asked.

"We leave." He said, firmly, turning back to her. "If they're smart enough, they'll make it out alive."

Years later, word got to them that there were two half-bread-zombies. There was something, some evil thing, keeping them from dying, but from becoming fully like the rest. Like they had caught it before it changed them, and stunned the disease, or whatever sickness it may be. Disgusted, and terrified, they could only think of one thing.

They had kept in contact with only so few people, those they knew did not deserve to be stranded. Unfortunately, for them, some working for the government cared more for their families, and sent them instead, leaving hardly any room on the planes. So, after so long, of trying to make as many trips as possible, they found the airports, and almost all of the grounds covered in dead things.

Fortunately, for the president's life, anyway, they contacted one of the craziest inmates from a Tennessee prison. She was a redneck, hunter, who had decided one night to kill her family, all out of a fit of rage. She was the only one smart enough to stay locked in that place when news of the apocalypse hit. Somehow, she got ahold of the government, and had one of the best-damned bargains on the line.

If Bobbi were to track down and actually rid the country of the only two half-dead ones, they would send for her rescue. They promised a new, shiny black helicopter, with all intentions of locking her up once she reached land again. She wasn't hard to find, but she wasn't stupid either.

She had no intentions of going where they had said. Instead, she killed the pilot off, on her way to find her husband, she had known for some time. Though she lied and said a zombie had killed the pilot, and upon finding her surviving husband, he had been bitten. She, and the government knew, that they had an antidote, temporarily.

By the time she had captured the half-deads, they could extract the permanent cure, thus ending the fear of anyone becoming a walking corpse again. So, they sent her a large supply, with gas for the 'copter. She survived, for a while, not bothering to kill the next pilot. He did die, however, from an actual zombie attack, sometime after finding her husband.

It was a short reunion, just long enough for him to get his antidotes. Christian was told to be on the lookout for the half-dead girl though, promising he could not die from the antidote. She just terribly needed help, when the two half-deads didn't even know where the other was. Christian quickly agreed upon hearing he was to head off into California, though. He was gone before sunset.

Unfortunately for him, the antidote was a bit much. Because the government had found the cause of death, in the zombies, they created a drug to perk the heart back up, making it feel alive again, and strangely enough, madly in love. So, unknowingly, with the bit of zombie "toxins" flowing through him, he fell in love with Gloria, believing he was the other half-dead.

If it weren't for Bobbi finding Christian once again, with the news of where they could find Eagan, he would have gone on for days thinking that zombie was his true love. Though, their love would come to his advantage, making her think it was true, so she'd come back with them.

That's when Gloria had found them.

Now Christian had to live with the image of that rotten thing eating his wife, and stealing his sanity. It angered him so, he felt a jolt of electricity shoot through his body, causing him to sit up. The zombie toxic within him was giving him a new strength; a strength to withstand the pain and get out of the copter. Not only that, but seeing Gloria on the road before him had him seeing red. He was going to rip her head off.

As he began to stagger, heading toward her dead body, he couldn't help but miss the bullet, zooming right past him. It wasn't aimed at him, but the gun dropped from the window, to the apartments nearby, has his name written all over it. He was going to blast the life right out of Gloria Fink.