“Those zombie mutha-fuckers are not people. They are the reason Wade is dead!” he yelled back at her. “They ain’t human.”
“Neither are you,” Lucy scolded and ran downstairs.
The other girls quickly followed. Michael stayed behind.
“Where’d you get the gun?” he asked.
“I saw this old 4-10 shotgun hanging above the door in the kitchen. It looked like it was in good shape, and there were some shells in the drawer, so I thought I’d test it out.”
“On zombies?” Michael asked.
“Didn’t see any rabbits running around. Did you?”
“Point taken,” Michael said as he looked out the window.
He scanned the area until he found the zombie lying on the ground with most of its head missing.
“Powerful rifle,” Michael thought out loud.
“What? This? Not really,” Paul informed him. “Good for rabbits or pheasants, but not much else.”
“Sure made short work of him,” Michael nodded towards the downed corpse.
“Yeah, I guess they can move around, but the body is still decaying.”
“Interesting,” Michael said more to himself than to Paul as the sun peeked over the horizon, signaling the start of another day.
“What’s the range on that?” Michael asked, nodding towards the gun.
“Not sure. The pellets will travel kinda far I think, but accuracy ain’t worth a shit,” Paul informed him. “They spread out the further they go.”
“I see,” Michael said as he looked out the window. “So, where’s the other one you shot?”
“Oh, he’s around somewhere. Hard to tell because they’re all covered in blood.”
“See that group over there?” Michael asked, pointing towards a group of a half dozen zombies staggering around the outskirts of the property.
“Yeah.”
“Try for a headshot,” Michael suggested.
“Which one?” Paul asked.
“One of the ones in the middle.”
Paul aimed the rifle and squeezed the trigger. Michael was expecting the shot, but it still made him flinch. Three of the zombies went down, while two of them barely flinched from the impact of the pellets. One of the downed ones stood back up.
“Two for one! Not bad,” Michael said…
“So, what’s that prove?” Paul asked, not sure where Michael was going with this little experiment.
“The pellets spread far enough that it hit five of them. Nice shooting by the way.”
“Good shooting,” Paul corrected him.
“Huh?”
“Good shooting. There’s no such thing as nice shooting.”
“That’s kinda profound for you. No offense,” Michael said with a smile.
“Heard it in a movie.”
“Really? Which one?” Michael asked.
Paul looked at Michael and grinned, “Land of the Dead.”
Michael blinked.
“Land of the Dead? Are you kidding me? You’re quoting lines from a zombie movie?”
“What can I say? I’m a huge Romero fan. Would you prefer I quote Shakespeare?”
Michael laughed as Paul leaned out the window and yelled, “Oh, Romeo, Romeo, where for art thou, Romeo?”
“I see your point,” Michael laughed. “You’re a disturbed individual with a morbid sense of humor. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.”
They both laughed.
“So,” Paul reminded him. “The shots?”
“Oh, yeah. That was a good distance away and five of them got hit. You said earlier that the impact knocked one down but he got back up. I’m guessing he was fairly close.”
Paul nodded and Michael continued, “At the longer distance, the impact was minimal, but the head shot still dropped them. Therefore, it doesn’t have to be a massive blow to the head. So maybe a baseball bat will be just as effective as a gun.”
“Just like in the movies,” Paul smiled.
“Just like in the movies,” Michael agreed, “So, if you were in a George Romero movie and you were stuck in a secret laboratory surrounded by zombies, what would you do?”
Paul thought for a moment and smiled. “Well, first I’d fuck all the girls, then I’d throw the nerdy science geek to the zombies to distract them while I made a run for it.”
Paul laughed, but Michael did not.
“It was a joke,” Paul explained.
“What? Oh, yeah I know.”
“Oh, damn! There he goes again.” Paul leaned the gun by the windowsill, “I’m heading downstairs to get a drink. Try not to shoot yourself.”
Michael nodded.
“And watch out for those little, green men with purple afros,” Paul added.
Michael nodded again.
“Yep, Mr. Cloak and Dagger is off to never-never land again,” Paul said as he headed downstairs.
“Where’s Michael?” Lauren asked as Paul entered the lab.
“Upstairs, having wet dreams about George Romero.”
“What?” Lucy asked.
“Nothing. He’s working shit out. You know Mikey, once he goes deep in thought, you girls could walk by him naked and he wouldn’t even notice.”
“Wanna try?” Lauren laughed.
“If you do, I’m going with you,” Paul laughed until Lucy punched him in the arm.
“I can’t believe you guys would joke at a time like this.”
“Lucy, relax,” Paul suggested, “now is the best time to let off a little steam or else we’ll all go insane not knowing what’s going to happen next.”
“What is going to happen next?’ Emma asked in a frail voice.
Paul looked at her. She didn’t look as bad as earlier, but she still looked like she would jump out of her skin at any moment.
“I don’t know,” Paul said. “But Mikey is working on something. If there’s a way out of this mess, he’ll figure it out.”
“Be careful,” Lucy said with a smile. “You almost sound like you’re looking up to him.”
“Now who’s cracking jokes?” Paul laughed.
“I’m just gonna have to plaster it all over Facebook and Twitter that big bad Paul has grown fond of our little Mikey.”
“Now, that’s fucking funny,” Paul laughed before Emma spoke in a voice barely louder than a whisper.
“Umm, guys,” she said sheepishly. “Speaking of Facebook and Twitter, has anyone checked to see if any of those computers have internet access?”
They stared at her, speechless.
“I mean, this whole lab is, like, run by computers, and we know there’s no phone, so how did that doctor guy talk to people? There must be someone he needed to stay in contact with.”
“Who needed to stay in contact?” Michael asked as he came around the corner.
The teens jumped to their feet and ran to the keyboard. Michael followed. None of them touched the keyboard.
“Robin, are you there?” Lucy asked.
“Yes, Lucy, I am here,” Robin replied.
“Do you have internet access?”
“Yes.”
“Great!” Lucy said excitedly. “We can log online and get help!”
“I’m afraid that is not possible,” Robin informed her.
“Not possible?” Lucy asked. “Why not?”
“The internet signal we receive from the satellite is currently unavailable.”
“Unavailable?” Paul said. “How the hell can a satellite be unavailable?”
“There is a problem with the satellite receiver,” Robin explained.
“Receiver? You mean the dish?” Michael asked.
“That is correct.”
“What’s the problem?” Michael asked.
“I will show you,” Robin announced as her face on the computer screen switched to the view of a large satellite dish in the middle of a grassy clearing. The dish lay on its side, a broken wire swayed lifelessly above it.
“What the hell happened to that?” Paul asked.
“There was a storm,” Robin informed them. “The receiver was damaged.”
“Well, why didn’t you fix it?” he demanded.
“I will walk outside and get right on that for you,” Robin replied.
The teens said nothing. Then Paul spoke up, “Did that fucking computer bitch just crack a joke?”
A smile appeared on their faces; it disappeared equally as fast.