Gruesomely Grimm Zombie Tales Part 4

Arnie saw that Murphy wouldn't budge without a new coat to cover his rags and he was afraid that Colonel Jacob King's anger might once again blow over and he would again be out his reward. Not to mention Murphy would escape any punishment.

"Tell you what, Murph," Arnie whispered, "I'll lend you a fine coat for a while just to do you a solid. What won't one man do for his brother-in-survival!"

Murphy accepted, slipped into Arnie's jacket and went to see the colonel. Colonel Jacob King reproached Murphy for the wicked words Arnie had reported.

"Nonsense," Murphy said. "Anything Arnie says is a lie; you'll never hear a word of truth coming out of his mouth. Why, I'd bet you he will claim I'm wearing his jacket."

"Say what?" Arnie cried. "Are you saying that is not my coat? Didn't I lend it to you to do you a solid, so you could come and see the colonel?"

When Colonel Jacob King heard that, he said, "Arnie is trying to dupe somebody, either me or Murphy." He went to his cabinet and filled a bag with a few more things, handed it to Murphy, and sent him on his way. Murphy went to his tent with a new coat and his pockets as well as a bag full of goods.

"I got it right this time," he said as he plopped down on his foam mattress.

8.

The New Minstrel Based on: Der wunderliche Spielmann Billy Sprint. That's what he took to calling himself after the zombies wiped out most of humanity. Billy was a h.e.l.luva fiddler...and he knew it. He liked the new world. He could walk around from place to place, spend a day or two in some walled compound or secure area, play his fiddle, b.u.mp nasties with a local, and move on. He was the Post-Apocalypse version of a rock star.

Billy had the whole of the country open to him now. For a boy from Goose Hollow, South Carolina, this was quite a change. He'd stopped making tally notches in his walking stick when it had been nicked to the point of needing to be replaced; and if he'd left any little Billys or Betties in his wake...it wasn't his problem. It wasn't like Support Enforcement was gonna come demand that he pay up. Yep, Billy Sprint liked the way of things fine.

Only...sometimes...with survivors spread out so thin...Billy got lonely. He found that, when left alone with his own thoughts for too long, he grew melancholy. It was one such time, when he was good and sick of thinking about things, that he said, "Time is dragging out here in the wilds, what I need is a companion."

He set down his pack, pulled out his fiddle and played a tune. It wasn't long before a zombie wandered out from the brush. It had been a beast of a man in life. Just the sort who'd teased Billy back when he was William Spriknicki taking violin lessons. This zombie had been in the woods for quite a while, and every st.i.tch of clothing had been torn away. The zombie had the usual array of bites, rips, and gaping holes. But what set him apart was that he was so freakishly hairy.

"You like my fiddle playin', Wolfie?" Billy asked as he drew his bow across the strings.

The zombie didn't answer with anything more than a wheezing moan as it lumbered after its potential prey. Billy kept walking backwards as he played, careful not to trip, until he came to an old oak tree that was hollow inside and split down the middle.

"Here we are," Billy said, ducking behind the tree and poking his head through the vee.

Zombies are stupid as we all know, and this one was no exception. It reached through the split in the oak in an attempt to grab the mobile feast it had pursued, oblivious to the lovely music being played.

Billy Sprint set down his fiddle, picked up a big rock, and with one blow, wedged the zombie's arms in so tight that it was held fast like a prisoner. "See ya...wouldn't wanna be ya," Billy said as he gathered his things and resumed his journey.

A little while later he was feeling lonely and bored once again. "Time is draggin' all alone out here in the woods. Maybe I'll try to find myself another companion." Once more he set down his gear, pulled out his fiddle, and began to play. It wasn't long before another zombie crawled through the brush. This one had been a teenage boy. His death had been gruesome. Both legs were chewed off just above the knee.

"That's not what I was hoping for," Billy sighed. Feeling ambitious, he backed away, continuing to play until he found a pair of young saplings just a few feet apart.

Setting down his fiddle, he pulled out two lengths of clothesline and secured them to the saplings. As the zombie crawled up to Billy, he tossed one noose around the first hand, then the other. Afterwards, he let the trees spring back up. This hoisted the legless zombie off the ground, suspended in the air between the two saplings.

"Why don't you just hang out here for a while," Billy said as he gathered up his things and went on his way.

Before long, he again said to himself, "The time hangs heavily on my hands out here in the woods; I'll get myself another companion."

Once more he set down his pack, produced his fiddle, and began to play. The music rang through the woods and brought out yet another zombie. This time it was a young child of five or six stumbling through the trees.

"Ah, here comes a zombie child," Billy said. "That's not what I want."

The small zombie hissed and groaned as it came after Billy Sprint, who continued to play as he backed away. Eventually, he came to a clearing with a lone tree in the center. Setting his fiddle aside, he tied a long line around the trunk and made a noose at the end which he tossed around the child-zombie's neck once it drew near. He scooped up his fiddle and led the monster around and around the tree. Twenty times they made the circle until the zombie was finally caught fast. It struggled and tugged, but it only drove the line deeper into the decaying flesh of its throat.

"Stick around here for a while," Billy said as he went on his way.

In the meantime the hairy zombie had yanked and jerked so hard that its hands broke off and it was free. It staggered towards the sound of fiddle playing, thick drool cascading down its chin. It staggered right into the legless zombie hanging between the saplings, snapping the tops of the tiny trees off and, in effect, freeing its brethren. The zombie child was chewing through the line after having managed to walk in the opposite direction a few circuits and fell in behind the other two. Billy had found himself a rock to rest on, and was once more playing his fiddle. This time, he was luckier. His music reached the ears of a smokin' hot babe carrying an axe. She came through the trees and was obviously into what she was hearing.

"Here comes the right companion at last," Billy said. "I wanted a nice warm body for the night, not a bunch of stinkin' zombies."

And he played so sweetly and beautifully that the young woman stood as though spellbound, and her heart leaped for joy. As she stood there, the three zombies crashed through the brush, intent on eating Billy Sprint. She lifted her axe and went at the walking dead with efficient fury.

Out of grat.i.tude, Billy played her another song. He went back to her camp for the night. Then he went his way.

9.

Weird Science Based on: Die zwolf Bruder There was once a pair of scientists in a laboratory run by the government. It doesn't really matter which one, does it? But so you'll quit wigging out and fixating on it, we'll say Italy. There, do you feel better now that when this story is done you'll have somebody to blame?

Anyways, back to the pair of scientists. They had twelve vials of a new hybrid virus. Each was tested on lab rats, then bunnies, then...eventually...monkeys. Still, they weren't getting the exact results that they sought. Thus, batch thirteen was brought into existence.

"If we can get this batch to work," one scientist said to the other, "we can toss the others. If we can only get this stuff to work, then all the time and money will be worth it and we will retire wealthy, all thanks to a little bio-chemistry."

One of the scientists started to get a conscience. He sat in the breakroom, feeling sad and guilty. As he sipped his espresso, a dozen of his a.s.sistants came in to raid the vending machine.

"Hey, boss." One of the younger interns plopped down across from his supervisor, aware something was bothering the man. "Why so blue?"

"Benny," the old scientist sighed, "I'm not sure I like where things are heading."

Benny wasn't easily put off and badgered the man, intent on getting to the root of what was bothering someone who rarely showed emotion. Finally, the man relented and took Benny to the part of the lab normally restricted to interns.

"Benny," the old man lifted the cover from a cage of lab rats, "the serum we've developed has gone beyond our expectations...these rats were dead.

Inside the cage, three rodents crept along with little to no coordination. Benny watched in amazement as the scientist dropped a live rat into the cage. It scurried to a corner, but before long, the three had converged and were tearing into the live one. Eventually, they seemed to lose interest and walk away. Slowly, the newly dead rat rose to its feet and began to stumble about the cage.

"If we release this to anybody, we're all dead. The world will fall into..." the old scientist's voice faded.

"So destroy the s.h.i.t!" Benny said.

"I don't know where my colleague has hidden his notes," the old man sighed, "and I have no idea how much he has already produced."

"There must be something," Benny insisted.

"Look, I'm gonna try to enact the sterilization sequence." The old man stood, looking far less brave than his voice sounded. "You and your friends need to get out. Fall back to the emergency shelter up in the woods. If things go badly, we'll need minds like yours to undo all this chaos.

"From up there you should be able to keep a watch on this complex. If the red emergency lights come on, you'll know it went bad. It'll be up to you to turn this around."

Benny rounded up his fellow interns and filled them in as they drove up to the evacuation shelter. Each day, they watched the facility nestled in the valley below. Nothing seemed to change for almost two weeks. One night, while Benny was watching, all the emergency lights came on. By morning some of the security staff could be seen staggering away from the complex. He went in and told the others.

"So, because of one crazy scientist, the world is doomed?" one of the interns snapped.

"Dude," Benny said, "we're scientists."

"Oh yeah," the other intern said. "Still...if I ever lay my hands on either one of those old b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, I'll kill 'em."

Within weeks, the world was overrun by zombies. The twelve interns continued to live out in the mountains in the emergency shelter in the hills above the secret government lab. They had plenty of wildlife to hunt and kill, so eating wasn't a problem. Benny was the best cook of the bunch, so he stayed in the shelter while the others went out and hunted game.

All the time alone eventually had Benny tinkering in the primative lab in the rear of the shelter. He'd seen enough of what his mentors had been working on to have a minimal understanding. He kept his projects secret since his former cla.s.smates now seemed to want nothing to do with science.

One day, while he was working, he dosed a dead rat and was amazed to see it begin twitching and eventually rise. He crushed its head with a hammer and was delighted to discover that destroying the brain seemed to work when it came to putting the undead rat down for good. Being a good scientist, he repeated the experiment over the next few days on different animals like rabbits, racc.o.o.ns, and a vole. Each time, he used his hammer to crush the skull and destroy the brain. Eureka! he thought. He knew how to put down the undead.

Then, one day, his mentor staggered up to the shelter. It was clear he'd been dead for years. His blue-grey skin was almost as thin as paper and every vein seemed to stand out from the blood turning black in them. What was worse, the old man had been torn open and most of his guts ripped out. What remained had long since shriveled and dried.

"You'll be the last thing I need to prove my thesis. But...if my fellows see you, they'll kill you on sight. I mean, not only are you a scientist...but a zombie as well."

Benny led the zombie version of his mentor into the shelter and back to the lab. Once there, he managed to shackle the abomination. He did his best to clean the body of dirt, dried blood, and an unpleasant a.s.sortment of vermin that had taken up residence on and in the animated corpse.

Benny became more curious during his cleaning and ran a few quick experiments. He tried to feed his old mentor from some of the savory stew he'd made, but the creature showed no interest. He offered it beverages of all sorts, but still no interest. However, when he walked in with sc.r.a.ps and the innards of the hares he'd been preparing for the evening meal, the zombie began to tug at his bindings.

Benny handed over the b.l.o.o.d.y bits and watched as the creature that had once been his mentor stuffed the bits in its mouth. It was similar to watching a gumball machine. The pieces would tumble out the hole in the zombie's gut. Chewed, but mostly intact.

"I don't want to put you down," Benny said, "but my fellows will not be okay with this. Still, this is a scientific find that I can't resist. And the chance to experiment and observe is too great."

A plan began to form. A part of him was hesitant, but a small sacrifice was sometimes needed when attempting to bring about the greater good.

That evening his comrades returned from the hunt. As usual, they laid out their various kills for Benny to gut, clean, and put aside for the next day's meals. Sitting around the table, the regular small talk ensued. Each told about his hunt, not one seemed interested enough to ask Benny about his day.

Well, he thought, I know a bit more than you, my friends.

The next day, while the others were out, Benny went to the wild garden out back. A snip and a clip here and there gave him the ingredients he would require. He set about his task in the kitchen, hoping that all would go according to plan.

His tray of cookies came out of the oven moments before the first of his companions returned. He offered a cookie, hoping he didn't seem too anxious. As usual, his culinary treat was accepted without so much as a thanks. Benny watched the man wolf it down.

"Man, I'm really sleepy," the fellow said a moment later. "I'm gonna catch a nap. Get me up for dinner."

Benny a.s.sured him that he would. Then, one by one, each of the others returned and the scene was repeated more or less the same. Within the hour, the others were sleeping peacefully in their bunks. Benny went to work securing each one. He strapped one to a gurney and wheeled him into the lab.

He let the zombie have his way with the first subject. He was fascinated at how it went for the soft, stretchy skin of the abdomen. Unfortunately, the effects of the drugged cookie wore off early in the process and there was a lot of carrying on by his former fellow intern who seemed to show no interest in science.

One by one he wheeled in the others. Some he only allowed to be nipped on the hand, others the foot. It did not seem to matter where the bite was given, each one transformed into one of those creatures. In one case, he let a half-dozen get ahold of one of his comrades. All that remained was the head. And still the eyes opened after a spell and began looking around. Before long, all of his former shelter mates had been converted to the walking dead.

Thus he began the second phase of his experiment. He opened the skull on one and began taking out sections of the brain. Each was examined and compared to slides of what he knew healthy tissue looked like. (That's because he saved one of his fellows and removed his brain, dividing it into its known sections.) During this process, he found the exact location that must be destroyed to deactivate the corpse: the cerebellum and the vagus of the cranial nerve.

Day and night he worked. Knowing how to put the creatures down was one thing, but Benny wanted to reverse the process.

One day, a few survivors arrived at the shelter. A soldier, a young woman, and an old hag. Benny told them they were welcome. He said they could do as they pleased as long as they didn't disturb his research. When they asked what it was he was doing, he explained in the simplest way he could that he was trying to find a cure.

For weeks and months, things were fine. Benny was so engrossed in his work that he never really spoke to the others. He was diligent about cleaning up before departing from his lab and never left it unlocked. He was fairly certain that if the people saw, they wouldn't understand and might try to hurt him. (He'd seen enough movies to know how misunderstood the scientist always was by others in a group.) Life went on at the emergency shelter for several years without incident. In time, Benny almost forgot that there were others. Of course, he eventually slip-ped. n.o.body is perfect. Right? He left the door to his lab unlocked. The old hag peeked in, unable to win out over her busybody nature. What she saw was beyond description. Bodies in various state of dissection, a couple that were no more than a brainstem atop their necks. And then there was the smell. She had no idea how a stench so ripe didn't trickle out to the rest of the building. However, it did explain the foul odor outside somedays when the wind blew from the south, or if you ventured back by the large vent that jutted from the ground about a half a mile away in the woods.

The hag ran to the young woman first, but she didn't seem to care. In fact, she scolded the hag for nosing around where she didn't belong. The hag tried to emphasize how creepy Benny was and how he never ever spoke to them.

"We've been here seven years," the hag explained. "Has he said so much as a word to you?"

"Nope," the young woman said as she continued to brush her hair, wishing she had some pink nail polish for her toes.

"Well, you'd think he could've at least said something," the hag persisted. "Let's be serious here. You're what the young men call hot, so why hasn't he even tried to talk to you?"

"Maybe he's gay?" The young woman shrugged.

"What are the odds that the only two men you have managed to encounter in the apocolaypse are both gay?" the hag scoffed.

You see, the soldier was gay. That they both knew as a fact. He was a product of the 'don't ask, don't tell' policy that had been enacted by the Italian military. Of course, now that there was no longer an actual army, Giovanni told everybody. Even if it was only two people, he felt incredibly liberated.

As for the young woman, she could care less. She'd been frigid for as long as she could recall and, while she was easy on the eyes-even in a make-up free, post-apocalyptic world-she had absolutely no s.e.x drive.

The old hag was extremely frustrated. The scientist was doing some pretty shady stuff, and the others needed to be concerned about it. She would be sure to sleep with one eye open.

Inside the lab, Benny was actually making some real progress. "I am certain I can do this," he said as he peered through a microscope. "After seven years...sev-en long years." He glanced up at the three subjects that were intact enough to be brought back. "I just hope you'll understand why I did what I did. I know you all gave up on science."

Meanwhile, the old hag finally got the soldier, Giovanni, to listen. The scientist was dangerous and the key to proving it was inside the lab. He followed, but his heart wasn't truly in it. Standing behind the hag as she picked the lock on the door, they both heard Benny chuckling to himself.

"What sort of lowlife is that guy?" the old hag hissed. "Who knows what sort of G.o.dless tricks he's up to! n.o.body could be surrounded by that much death-and-gore and laugh about it.

"Maybe he's used to it," Giovanni whispered back. "I mean, I saw some crazy stuff in the battlefield."

The old hag couldn't stand it. Something had to be done about this monster. Taking a deep breath, she threw open the door and burst into the room. "Ah-ha!" she croaked.

Benny jumped and stumbled into the waiting arms of the zombie he was about to inject with the cure. Zombies don't care about cures. This one bit into Benny's throat. Blood gushed, and he let out a gurgled scream. The hypodermic filled with a dose of the cure landed on the floor and was broken underfoot.

Unfortunately for the hag, she tripped over a box on the floor. She fell and hit her head, losing consciousness. Giovanni had seen enough, he closed the door in a hurry. As the hag opened her eyes, the zombie formerly known as Benny was just burying his face in her wrinkly stomach. The old hag was trapped in a room with the zombie of the only person who would ever develop a cure, and she died a cruel death.

10.

Hooligans of the Apocalypse Based on: Das Lumpengesindel A young man in his twenties travelled with a woman of about the same age. They were out scavenging for food in the countryside together. After dispatching a few zombies still lurking in the area, the young man said to his companion, "That house on the hill is ripe for the pickin'. None of the windows are broken. We should go up there and sack the place before somebody else comes along and beats us to it."

"Oh yes," said the young woman. "I bet there's lots of goodies for us to share."