Another woman was much younger but most of her face was smashed in. Her neck was cocked at an impossible angle and I feared that if I touched her the head would loll toward me and her eyes would snap open.
“Were they all Z’s before they were killed?”
“I don’t know, man. I don’t know.” Joel shook his head.
I wondered if he was thinking what I was thinking. That some sick fuck needed to die for this. Take a Z down, man. Don’t be a fucking asshole.
I pointed at the house and Joel followed my finger and stared for a full half minute.
“We should go somewhere else.”
“Yeah. We should. Stay here and back me up.”
“Dammit. We should leave,” I whispered.
“I want to know what’s up,” Joel said. His eyes didn’t look inquisitive. They looked pissed.
“Going in blazing?” I asked.
“I’m not stupid.”
“Yeah, okay, Mr. Marine.”
Joel puckered his lips like he was preparing to blow me a Marine kiss and then shot me the finger. He crept to the edge of the house and lowered himself next to the sliding glass door. He took a quick peek and then dropped back a few feet. No one blasted. Good enough start.
Joel took another look and this time lingered. He stared and stared and then he motioned for me to join him.
“Break it. Break the fucking door.” He nodded at my giant wrench.
“Really?”
“Dude. Just do it.” His eyes burned so I shrugged and took a swing.
Just before the wrench shattered the window, I saw why.
When the glass hit the patio and floor, I stood in place while my brain tried to make sense of the scene.
Then my face flushed and my blood boiled.
Joel went in yelling.
“Down, get the fuck down! I am not messing around! If you make one wrong move I’ll erase you!”
The man with his pants around his ankles looked at us and then slowly raised his arms.
I took a step toward him with the wrench raised and murder in my blood. I wanted to beat this guy until he was pulp and then toss him on the pile outside.
His living room was a mess of old clothes and empty food containers. There were so many empty packs of crackers and candy bars I wouldn’t be able to take a step without something crackling under foot.
Someone had spray-painted the words “MONSTER KEN” on one of the walls in blood red paint.
The house was dark and warm. It reeked of garbage and blood. It smelled like the dead. On top of that, the guy before us smelled like he hadn’t showered in a month.
The worst part was the girl. She was bent over the arm of a light brown leather couch that was stained with blood. Her naked legs moved but that was all. Her arms were tied at the wrist, behind her back. She moaned but couldn’t move her head because a rope had been tied around her neck and stretched to the other side of the couch and then tied to something.
“Notmenotmenotmenotme! It’s Ken. He’s the monstermonster monsterman! Ken’s coming back. Not me not me not fucking me.”
“Shut up or I’ll end you.” Joel’s voice was full of barely-controlled rage.
I didn’t say anything because every fiber of my being wanted to crush in his skull. I clenched the wrench so hard my hand trembled.
“Ken did Ken did Ken did,” the guy rambled on and on under his breath.
“Let her go,” I said.
“Can’t. Can’t do it. Can’t until Ken gets here but he said I could take a turn. See? He said it was cool so it’s cool and everything’s cool. So cool.” He touched the girl’s back and ran his hands over her waist, then gave her butt a squeeze.
“Rapist.” Joel pronounced it like a death sentence and raised his weapon.
“Can’t rape the dead.” The man cackled.
I backed up a step and tried to keep my lunch down.
“What the fuck!” Joel said and centered the man in his sights.
Then something crashed down the hallway and we both froze.
‘Ken!” the guy screeched, and that was enough for me.
I hit him so hard he probably didn’t even feel it, just saw a blast of light.
A figure dashed across the hallway into the kitchen. Joel dropped and fired a few rounds.
I dropped behind the couch and tried to pick a spot to crawl toward. The woman’s eyes settled on mine and she snarled even though she was gagged. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old. She wore the same shade of lipstick as the bodies outside.
Another figure appeared in the hallway but it moved slowly. Joel didn’t stop to ask questions; he just shot the person in the chest. Then another shape appeared.
“Out!” Joel said and rose to cover me.
A pair of shots came from the direction of the first figure, now in the kitchen, and struck the wall. The bullets were high but they were enough to tell me that I didn’t like being shot at.
I went flat as Joel backed up and fired a few more rounds.
This was beyond our thirty-second battle drill. We should be hauling ass. I tried to shimmy along the floor but realized it would leave my big ass exposed and stayed low.
“When I fire, you move. Got it?” Joel didn’t waste any time and ripped half a dozen rounds at the indistinct shape in the kitchen. Then he dropped the creeper coming up the hallway, but there was one more behind them.
At least we hit whoever was shooting at us. The person grunted and then fell. Joel aimed in his direction but was stopped because of the fresh hell that was about to enter my living nightmare.
The shuffler moved faster than anything alive. It didn’t even pause to check out the naked girl bent over the couch, it just came at us like a rabid dog. It snarled and sputtered with a sound that was like coughing. It ran at Joel, took a bullet to the shoulder and didn’t stop.
The guy in the kitchen must have figured this was his chance. He peeked around the corner and for the first time I got a look at him. It was the same person I’d seen earlier wearing a ski mask.
I dropped my wrench and tugged the big .45 out of my holster, checked the safety, raised it, and shot at the guy.
He ducked back around the corner. His handgun came out and he emptied a magazine into the room. We tried to duck, but the shuffler was on us.
He went for Joel with a leap that barely cleared the couch. I risked grabbing my wrench and then swung it around. I missed, but it was better than accidentally shooting Joel.
They both crashed through the remains of the glass door and went down in a heap. Joel abandoned his assault rifle and went for his side arm but his hand was batted aside. He tried to throw a punch while getting up and was tackled. Then he was out of sight.
I lifted the handgun and fired back at the man in black out of fear and panic. I had to rescue Joel. He was a tough and fast son of a bitch, but he was facing a shuffler all alone. I fired wildly and made for the screen door but bullets zipped over my head.
“Ken. That’s a shuffler. Let me kill it or we’re both done.”
Another form appeared in the shadows of the hallway.
“I know. I brought them for you.” A man’s voice cackled. “Think you can sneak into my house? My house? I brought them.”
Boom! The shot ripped through the space over my head.
“For you!”
Then he fired several more times while I hugged the floor. Made it my best friend.
I curled up in a ball and wondered if I was going to be Z-chow in a minute.
A grunt from the outside made me snap my head in that direction. Was Joel dead? Did the shuffler get him? I had to get out there and I had to get out there now.
The form that had appeared in the doorway staggered toward me. Ken laughed. Monster Ken — what a perfect name for this asshole.
The fresh Z was a large woman in her thirties. Her face was a mess of bite marks but her guts hung around her waist. I lifted the gun to shoot at her but it clicked empty. Great. I’d forgotten Joel Kelly’s rules. I rolled against the side of the couch, put my hand on the cushion to steady myself, and was almost bitten by the girl strapped there.