To George

          By the time this post is actually published a little over a week will have passed since Mr. Romero has left this mortal coil. I imagine that in that time, the internet and its fickle nature will have moved on with their lives.

          However, I still feel it necessary to pen something about just how deeply, and in how many ways George Romero’s work has impacted my memories and the way I have chosen to entertain myself over the years.

          As such, I guess it makes the most sense to start at the beginning. I watched the original black and white version of Night of the Living Dead with my father when I was about twelve years old. It was strange to me, not because he was letting me watch a fairly violent, gory movie at such a young age, but because it was a horror movie. And let’s just say my dad was more a Clint Eastwood than Clive Barker fan. I remember asking, “Is it in color?” in the way a whiny preteen might pose the question.

          I recall sitting in our living room in the house I grew up. Quickly, I was transported to a graveyard in Pennsylvania and within seconds I had forgotten that I might’ve had an issue with black and white films. Immersion was cemented when I heard those words, “They’re coming to get you Barbara…”

          Much like zombie-based pop culture, that was not the last I had heard of George Romero, nor was it the last time he would have an influence on what I was doing with my free time, or my then burgeoning interest in the living dead.

          If I fast forward through time, I can recall countless examples of his influence in media. Everything from video games (Resident Evil) to more movies, Shaun of the Dead, not to mention the countless comics, and books I consumed during my late teens and early twenties. And course, World War Z and The Walking Dead would've never come to pass without Romero! The man even starred in his own game, Call of the Dead as part of the Black Ops zombie franchise!

 

          Honestly, some of what Romero fathered was truly groundbreaking, adding their own mark to zombie lore, others were not much more than a gore fest. But they all had one thing in common; Romero had inspired them all.

         As I grew older, I began to realize that not only did the man invent an entire subgenre based on his work, he also had quite a bit of meaty commentary behind his work, to back up the flesh-eating ghouls that we were seeing on screen. As evidenced by this and other quotable items he's uttered in regard to his filmmaking over the years; "My zombies will never take over the world, because I need the humans. The humans are the ones I dislike the most, and they're where the trouble really lies."

        In conclusion, I think it'd be really easy to say something droll about Mr. Romero such as; "He will rise from the grave and live in infamy." However, I believe the man deserves better than that, and as such, I will simply say: Thanks for the memories. Your legacy has had, and will continue to have, an everlasting reach.

 

Window Shopping: Kingdom Without a King- Part 8

The dead man that was Anton Allaine stumbled towards Praesus and I with an otherworldly hunger. Someone had stripped him of his regal armor. Altogether, what was left of him was minimal. His flesh had a dim gray tinge, most of his chest was covered with blood. The only clue to who it belonged was the fact that there was so much of it, that I was certain it had come from multiple sources. In addition to the crimson liquid that seemed to be everywhere, Anton Allaine had apparently had his clothing nearly torn to shreds. It gave him the appearance of a long dead corpse, one who’s funeral suit had been eaten away by earthworms, insects and time under the ground.

Though his body gave the impression of one who had passed over to the other side, Anton’s face held a much different look. If you were able somehow see past the glowing green eyes, you might have noticed Anton’s lips. They were dry and thin, and his teeth seemed to be trying to push them out if the way, with his tongue in tow.

As Praesus and I took in the sight, Asta spoke to me specifically, “I am going to let my brother into your cell. One of two things will happen: You will either cure him. Or he will kill you.”

Praesus gave me a tainted glance. I held up a dismissive hand.

One of Asta’s guards swung open our cell’s door. The other prodded Anton to enter. Both of them regarded Anton with an equal mixture of terror and revulsion, they only went as close as they needed.  

Anton entered slowly at first, but as he got closer he must’ve sensed or smelled us somehow. His sleepwalking shuffle turned more urgent. And along with it, those teeth, pinned down by only his narrow lips began to search by snapping in our general direction.

Asta signaled the guards to shut the door, they quickly and gladly obliged her. Anton, or what Anton had become rather, in large part to me, was getting closer, teeth bared and making indicative guttural sounds in our direction.

Calmly, Praesus looked at me, “What are you waiting for?”

“What do you mean?”

“Now isn’t the time for jokin’ squire. Change the man back!”

My attention bounded from Praesus to Anton’s reanimated corpse, “I can’t do that…”

“What?” Praesus was now backing up, heading towards the rear of the cell.

“I mean, I dunno what I mean.This is all new to me.” I focused, tried to concentrate and see if my powers to bring the dead back to life might include the ability to reverse what I had done, and restore Anton’s humanity.
I reached out with my mind to Anton’s corpse. On some other plane, I saw my thoughts travelling towards him. My will itself flowed from me in a bright green arc, like a tornado crossing over a water’s surface. Then I thought of emptying a colored liquid into a glass of plain water. My will to control this man went from me like a green fountain, crossed the small cell and found him. It enveloped him, catching him up in a green swirling mist. I glanced back at Praesus who was in fact watching intently, but by his eyes I could tell he was not seeing what I was. The guards, and Asta herself, peered intently from outside the cell, but again I could tell they were not seeing this fantasm of power that I was.

Quickly, I swung my gaze back to Anton, the green array had all but subsided, and as it did, it evaporated into nothing- that being if it ever was actually anything to begin with.  

Anton was still. He had stopped with the growls and was standing as still as you would have expected, that is, from any normal dead man.

After several moments, I approached him. Although, I had no idea what I was going to do, or even look for once I reached him. Anton stood, back to the cell door, his eyes locked on mine.

Asta cried out to her brother. Anton didn’t respond, but he heaved slightly forward at his waist, and held up an arm, with his forefinger raised. It was if he were indicating he needed just a moment.

“Anton!” Asta, threw herself at the bars. Anton dropped his arm, as he simultaneously dropped to his knees. “He’s back, he’s hurting, let me in there!”

Oddly, the guards looked at me before making a move. “Let me in there now dammit!” Asta’s voice tore through the small space. This broke the guard’s hesitation and they scrambled, opening the door as quickly as they could.

“Anton, by Eve! You’re back! you’re okay!” Asta flew to him, throwing her arms around her brother’s shoulders. When this occurred Anton returned her embrace, the only difference was Anton grabbed Asta’s slender wrist, and then promptly placed it between his teeth.

Yelling to Anton, I said, “No! Don’t you bite down you sunovabitch!” I dashed towards Asta Allaine and her dead brother. Anton turned her around to face me, as he gripped her, teeth ready to meet flesh. I knelt next to her, and whispered in her ear. I told her how I had the events in the courtyard led to Anton’s death. I told her how all we wanted to do was escape. I told her how I had coerced her to get into this cell. I finished by saying, “All it took was a little hope.”

No longer at the back of the cell, Praesus was now standing at it’s doorway, looking over the battered bodies of the two guards. He stared at his knuckles, now covered in blood, “Cursed...”

Window Shopping: Kingdom Without a King- Part 7

The three of us trudged back the very same way we had entered this land hours before. In the midst of a remote snow field stood a window of miraculous qualities. An ordinary window it was not.

When we stepped in front of the window-like portal, Praesus, myself, and even Old Rufus the dog, noticed a problem. Namely, that the portal, instead of showing us view of the interior of Praesus’ chamber, from where we had traveled, showed only a fuzzy grey-black smudge. It reminded me of an old television set whose picture tube had just burnt out.

“Can we go through that?” I asked Praesus.

Carefully, he prodded it with his club as Rufus sniffed its edges. “Solid, it does not appear we can enter.”

“No you may not enter, for you still have dealings with us…”

The voice behind us sounded familiar, however, I couldn’t quite place it.

“Hands up this time please!”

“Oh, the lovely lady archer.” I raised my hands and turned. Praesus did the same, although he harbored his typical look of chiseled anger. Rufus simply patted before us, the look in his eyes seemed to indicate he knew how all of this was going to end.

“Your plague sorcery has decimated my home, and…” the young woman grew emotional, but caught herself just before tears, “and you’ve cursed my brother. You will come with me, or you will die where you stand.”

“Young madam,” Praesus said stepping forward, “on your authority alone we will be doin’ no such thing.”

The archer confidently whistled between her fingers, and a bevy of troops appeared against the cold breaking wind. They all showed gritted teeth and an array of readied weapons.

“That increases your authority substantially, I assume you’ll be escorting us back to the prison quarters?” I asked.

She motioned back the way we had come with bow drawn, “March, and be quiet as yer doing it.” Her reinforcements fell in behind her as we all headed back to the fort we had only escaped from minutes ago.

*

Back at the prison cell that I had broken out of earlier that day, the lady archer sat in front of Praesus and I on an old stool, only a set of time-weathered bars between us. The quarters smelled of shit and our own failure, the scents so entangled I couldn’t separate the two.

How could we let this woman follow us, and then subdue us?

I saw Old Rufus beyond the prison bars, chained just out of our reach

“I know what you’re askin’ yourself,” Praesus said, in spite of the woman listening to our every word.

“What?”

“How could we let this lone archer, and her band of merry idiots capture us?”

Surprised, I answered, “Actually, that’s exactly what I was thinking. Do tell…”

“We’re cursed young squire.”

“Eh, say again?”

“We’re cursed you and I, the two of us I mean, our working in tandem.”

“Right, and just how do you know this?” I spoke making sure Praesus would be well aware of my skepticism.

“No more talk.” the lady archer stood, as some noise came from the front of the prison. We heard a door open, the kind of sound you’d expect, ancient and medieval, hinged metal grinding against one another for the same space.

The lady archer shouted up the steps, “How is he? Is he ready?” her voice wavered with feeling.

Two guards came into view, they were escorting what looked to be another prisoner. With a closer look, I realized one of the guards was the man I had covered in Praesus’ elimination in order to prompt our earlier escape. They led, what I assumed was a man, down the corridor. Whoever he was, if it was in fact a he, was covered in a metal shroud that ended just below his neck. The contraption was something from Dumas' nightmares. This new prisoners hands were bound behind him, with a copious amount of chain.

They stopped in front of our cell, the now cleaned guard spoke to the lady archer, “He’s no better or no worse madam.”   

“Looks like we gettin’ a roomie squire.”

I didn’t fully realize what was happening until this new and mysterious prisoner turned towards me. The metal mask fastened to his head, had a narrow gap at eye level. Despite it’s small size, I could see a pair of those telltale green eyes glowing from within.

The lady archer nodded to the guards, one swung open our cell, the other unclasped the fastening mechanisms that held the mask on, letting it clang to the floor. Together they pushed the man into the cell Praesus and I shared. Without the mask, I recognized him instantly; Anton Allaine, the man who was commanding the opposing troops during our escape.

The lady archer’s resemblance to him was uncanny. As she leveled a finger at me, I saw the same sureness, same proud stance. In much the same way her brother had, she introduced herself, “You left my brother for dead and he ended up a ghoul. I, Asta Allaine would have you restore him or perish.”

Window Shopping: Kingdom Without a King- Part 6

A man stood over me, sword to my throat. He and his troops had myself, Praesus and Old Rufus surrounded. I looked around, wanting, waiting for someone, something to swoop into the cramped courtyard and save us.

I stared up at the sun, felt the wind against my skin for perhaps the last time.

The man looked down on me with contempt, “You coward, can you not even bear to look your vindicator in the eyes? Are you not man enough to accept your punishment?” Anton Allaine waited for my response, his face held a look of smugness. The look fit him well.

Smiling, I blurted out something that I thought was both clever and displayed my keen sense of bravado, “You’re all doomed.”

Anton Allaine was able to ask, “Just what might you be referring to?” before all hell broke loose in that courtyard.

From behind the gathering of men that aimed to kill us, rose the corpses of Garreth Lee and Jonathan Tomy. Their skin now pocked and grey, their eyes filled with what was becoming to me at least, a familiar green glow.

I didn’t yet fully understand it, but inherently I knew, in death they belonged to me now, they were under my control. Puppet-ghouls that moved as I wished, did what I commanded. My disbelief was only rivaled by my ignorance of how I was controlling them. I wanted to solve that mystery, but something deep within suggested that I not think about it too much.

Zombie Harold Rambly rose again as well, he had fed (ironically on Jonathan Tomy) and seemed more responsive. His shambling had faded, he now walked upright coated in the crimson remnants of his meal.

With nothing but the power of my mind I willed them to attack Allaine and his party.

They never saw it coming. Through my peripheral vision, I even saw Praesus appear to wince as Rambly casually grabbed the arm of an unwitting archer and chomped down on it as though it were a hunk of turkey leg. Zombie Jonathan and Zombie Garreth followed suit, tearing into two more guards like they were cattle. The screams began, and escalated from there. Even those that weren’t being attacked could not seem to fathom what was happening around them. They seemed to question their former comrades rising from the dead, and snacking on them as a tad unusual, go figure.

Allaine turned away from me long enough to take in the gruesome display behind him. With a snap he turned back to me, “What sorcery--”

“Is this?” I met him halfway through the line. “Ya, I get that a lot lately. Why is that such a popular saying here?”

Allaine was through talking, he raised his sword and swiped downward, aiming to cleave me in two. I rolled aside, the only thing his sword met was the recently deceased corpse of one, Miguel Cervantes. I watched as Allaine’s sword cut a jagged path into Cervantes’ torso, rending the flesh from the deltoid to the superior portion of pectoralis major. Zombie Cervantes gripped the sword’s blade with both hands with an otherworldly focus. The zombie attempted to wrench the sword up and out of its own flesh. This only served to increase the spilled blood and saw the flesh from his palms. Had he been living the pain would have been immeasurable. However, throughout the entire ordeal the Zombie Cervantes stared blankly ahead at Allaine with those green eyes burning. Allaine, aghast and puzzled could only stare back, watching the creature feebly attempt to remove the sword from its body.  

Amidst the chaos, I scrambled backwards in the dirt, signaling to Rufus and Praesus that it was time we go. As more soldiers perished, I took control of them as well, swelling the zombie ranks to six, then seven, then eight. I made them all feed in gory fashion.

The three of us darted for the gate, Praesus maneuvering to the hand crank that would operate the gate’s mechanism.

“Work your magic big man.” I hollered, as the screams to our rear served to punctuate my sentence.

I noticed Praesus did not even make eye contact, let alone respond. Yet, he did begin turning the massive hand crank, and the gate began to open enough for the three of us to slip past.

As we left the courtyard behind, I couldn't help but look at the mayhem once more. Mayhem I had unleashed. I saw Anton Allaine being swarmed by death in the forms of those he had once lived with side by side. His sword swings were wild and ineffective, he backed up, likely overcome by fear and mania at what he was seeing.

Allaine might find it comforting that although he had to bear witness, he was not the one responsible for such macabre actions.  

My last image was of two zombies towering over him as he fell onto his backside. Arms outstretched, Allaine attempted to beg off, I could only assume the zombies were not apt to accept his pleas.

As Praesus and I breached the gate, with Rufus in tow, he asked me, “Where to now?”

“That depends, am I to guess that you are no longer interested in killing me?” I asked this of Praesus.

“I feel our debts are settled, I no longer have reason to.”

Instantly, I thought that Praesus was still unaware that Old Rufus and I had left his brother for dead. I didn't dare speak this fact aloud.

Praesus noted my sudden quiet, “You don’t have a response to that?”

“I think I appreciate that fact,” It sounded ridiculous even in thought, but I hadn’t even had a moment to think about Praesus’ brother, it seemed like so long ago, so much had happened since then, non-stop. I hadn’t even time to think, and barely had time to remember. Although, our reasons were strong ones, the choices we made still left Praesus minus one brother.

“Then I will accompany you, until such a time as we can get back to my home. Today at least I am in your debt. Where would you have us go?”

Contemplating, I looked down at Old Rufus and stroked his fur, “Your home is exactly where we need to head back to. I suspect that Helena and Thaddeus knew more about my arrival then they let on.”

“I would guarantee that to be true.” Praesus said knowingly.

“Then we make our way back to their cabin, and drop in for a visit.”

Window Shopping: Kingdom Without a King- Part 5

So a warrior, a traveler and a zombie walk into a courtyard...

Well we ran actually. Praesus charged forward first clobbering an archer with that brutal club of his. This man had the misfortune to be strolling by in close proximity when the prison doors swung open. A small squeal escaped him before he dropped to the ground. Praesus was then on his way to his next foe, targeting two other archers closest to him in the yard.

I sent the zombie guard shambling towards the dickhead throwing rocks at Old Rufus. I saw the look of confusion on the rock throwers face, “Harold? Harold??” His expression then gave way to terror, “Harold! HAROLD! NO!!” I saw the guard tear into the man's neck, his arm went immediately limp and the remaining stones in his hand clomped to the ground. I had no idea blood could be so dark as it spurted from the wound, and then flowed down the man’s shirt.  

I darted for Rufus himself, to see how I might get him free. He was only chained up with a clasp, thankfully. I undid the simple mechanism. “Rufus old boy! Good to see you!.” The dog bypassed me, and then lunged beyond me, knocking another guard to the ground. This guard dropped a horned instrument to the hard packed dirt. One of the guards Praesus was pursuing peeled off made a run for the horn. “Don't let them call reinforcements!”

Praesus said nothing in reply. Instead he stopped, lining up a shot with his club. He aimed perfectly at the guard nearest the horn, and then let the club fly. It went wide arcing just past the guard’s left hand side. I was frantic, knowing that we were barely scraping by with these odds, it would be impossible if more troops arrived. Who knew how many armed individuals were at the ready to attack us in this place. Looking over at the zombie guard, he was still rending flesh from the stone throwing man’s body. Despite pausing his chase, Praesus had actually caught up with the other guard. He grabbed the man, and let their momentum carry the two of them into the stone wall of the courtyard. The two men collided with a muffled ummph, the guard absorbing the brunt of the impact. I turned my attention elsewhere as Praesus proceeded to repeatedly shove the man’s face against the hard stone. All the while, Rufus was struggling with the guard he had knocked over. The dog was trying to clamp his muzzle over the guard’s entire neckline. Dust from his fall mixed with the blood on his body created an unusual clotting effect. Everyone was occupied it seemed.

I had no choice, it was going to have to be me. As the final guard closed in on the horn, I closed in on him as well. I did my best imitation wrestling takedown; scooping the guard’s left leg, and lifting it, and his ass outward, throwing him off balance, then forcing him down with my own weight. A cloud of dirt surrounded us as we scrambled on the ground. I had landed on top of him, just shy of his knees. I only had a moment to swell with pride at my single leg before the guard kicked me in the face. I reeled backwards, my head and neck snapping backwards as he sounded the horn. That was until Praesus crept from behind him and broke his neck violently and quickly.

Praesus and even Old Rufus looked to me, and even the dog seemed to be casting judgement from his aged eyes. “Shit. I’m sorry.” It was all I could manage as from each section of the courtyard, the buildings, and domiciles themselves poured more guards answering the horn’s call.

At least a dozen guards enveloped our position. I saw archers leveling bows at the three of us, swordspeople with shields at the ready. Spears and scythes poked and prodded Praesus, Rufus and myself, maneuvering us to the center of the courtyard. Some of those that had arrived began to survey their fallen friends, the alarm in their eyes turning to anger.

A voice shouted to the group, “Should we string them up?”

A booming voice cut the air, “No,” a man pushed past the crowd. I recognized him, he was the first archer I encountered when Rufus and I had arrived here. “They are dangerous, too dangerous to set up gallows and the like. We kill them here, on my word.”

Old Rufus gave an ill-timed bark for punctuation as he paced between Praesus and myself. “You’re not helping,” I whispered.

The man knelt before me, “You’ve caused  lot of carnage since your arrival here,” his eyes flew to Praesus, “both of you.” His gaze went back to me, “Strangely convenient for a man you claim is your enemy, no?”

“You locked us up together, you gave us no choice but to conspire!” I realized during the course of my shouting that he was not at all paying attention to my words. He was surveying the courtyard meticulously.

When he finished he turned back to me.“Harold Rambly. Garreth Lee. Jonathan Tomy.” The man paused, getting in closer to me, looking down at the body nearest to me, he all but whispered, “Miguel Cervantes.”

“You took us prisoner! Gave us no-” I was kicked again, this time in the mouth.

As the man continued with his diatribe, I could see the mob behind him eager to exact revenge. The man, clad in a smoky grey leather armor, drew his sword and placed it at at my throat, applying just the slightest pressure to my Adam’s apple. The sensation made me gulp in revulsion.  He spoke once more, cocking his head back in a manner that made his dark hair flip upwards momentarily, “You took the lives of these men. And I, Anton Allaine will be the one that takes your life in reckoning.”

Window Shopping: Kingdom Without a King- Part 4

I knew our alliance would be a temporary one, even as we had shook hands only mere minutes prior. Even still, I hoped I could trust him to help get us free of this place before that alliance dissolved. Praesus towered over me, looking even larger than he had the first time we had a fought. He would most certainly bludgeon me. The possibility existed I might be killed. As I contemplated this, I was not afraid. I would not be backing down.

That’s when Praesus charged. The man flew at me, teeth grimaced, a unfamiliar battle cry escaping them. I readied my fists, and prepared myself for the losing end of combat. Then something unexpected happened.

Footsteps echoed towards us from downstairs. Without looking I thought it to be the excrement-covered guard, finally recovered from his ordeal. But the truth was more incredible. Motionless, with an ash-gray tone about his skin, the portly guard peered up from the last step. His posture was slouched, his arms hung at his sides. However, all those things were overshadowed by the dull green glow that emanated from his eyes.

Praesus, in the midst of his charge, did not seem to notice when the guard shambled forward, effectively cutting Praesus off from reaching me.

When this happened I could see two things; one Praesus couldn’t fathom what he himself was seeing, and two; the back of the guard’s head was completely caved in. It was like an eggshell, dented heavily in the center, the trauma spidering outwards. Only the guard’s head was uneven flesh, littered with clumps of brain matter and sections of blood-soaked hair. And yet he was standing between me and Praesus.  

How was the guard standing exactly?

Praesus halted mid-stride to take in what was before him. His mouth fell open, and when this happened, he dropped the club. It clunked to the stone floor, echoing slightly in the chamber. Praesus was now unarmed and transfixed. It seemed he was caught by the eyes of the portly guard. They glowed like embers in a dying fire, the only difference was their shade of emerald green as opposed to deep orange.

“What sorcery is this?” he mumbled.

I began laughing uncontrollably, to the point where I could barely catch my breath. “Even given the seriousness of this situation, it's a shame no one else heard that. I mean could you have used a more cliché line?”

Praesus was most certainly distracted as he stared into the eyes of a man he had murdered moments ago. I knelt to pick up the club. As I did this the portly guard mimicked my actions exactly.

I looked at the guard, Praesus looked at me, and I back at him. We both held the expressions of shock. I waved the club back and forth, the guard’s right arm did the same.

“What the-” Praesus began.

“You were going to say ‘fuck’ right? Eh, probably not, more my kinda word than yours. I dunno, but this is definitely an interesting development.”

Then it dawned on me.

“You are going to help me.” Even as I began to speak, I could see the resistance in Praesus’ eyes. “Now listen, I have the only weapon between us, and I have…” I looked to the guard, “whatever this is.”

The confidence in his own size and strength left Praesus. It seemed he was not inclined to tangle with forces he did not understand. Fleetingly, I wondered the prudence of doing so myself. In spite of this, I was seized by a strange optimism,

“Crack open that door, make sure that’s Old Rufus they have in the courtyard.” Praesus didn’t need to know it, but even if it wasn’t Rufus yelping, whatever was going on out there we were about to put a stop to it, regardless. “Well?”

“They have him, chained to a pole in the courtyard. They appear to be throwing stones at him.”

“We’ve wasted so much time already,” I walked to Praesus and began to hand over the club. “Look, I am giving this back to you because I know those people out there are armed.”

Praesus reached for the club. I drew it from his reach.

“But, if you try anything- anything- I will make sure this guard gets his vengeance upon you.” Saying this statement had a sense of righteousness to it, I felt justified in threatening Praesus with it, though I had no idea why. To accentuate this the guard let out a moan, and extended his hands towards Praesus’ throat.

“Down boy.” I grinned. “Can we work together to escape from here and get Rufus back?”

Praesus nodded, I gave him the club. “What’s the strategy squire?”

“You go out there and clobber as many as you can with this blunt object. And me and,” I cocked my thumb at the guard whose eyes still held that eerie green glow. The guard also cocked the same thumb to nobody in particular, “this guy will...do stuff.”

If Praesus had any doubts (which he should’ve) he did not voice them.

I flung open the doors that led to the courtyard.

Utility Part XIII

Warren tried to squirm, and generally make the search as difficult as possible.

Franklin motioned for Wes and Jason to stop what they were doing. He pulled Warren close and whispered in his ear.  Immediately, Warren’s struggling stopped.

“It’s a miracle.”

The three men meticulously turned out every pocket that Warren had on his clothing.

Sam couldn’t help but ask, as the remainder of the group looked on with curiosity. “Well what’s the verdict?”

“No key,” Jason replied.

“Well to be fair we didn’t search any body cavities,” Franklin turned to Nurse Van, “Are there still any rubber gloves in the nurse’s station?” he punctuated the statement by winking at Warren.

Warren’s whole body visibly tensed, eyes widening in a brisk display of fear.

“So he’s innocent?” Amy asked.

Wes wanted to head off that conclusion. “He may not have the key, but he’s definitely not innocent.”

Jackie, sounding frustrated, “Then who has the key?”

“I don’t know.” Wes rubbed his hand over his forehead.

Sam perked up again, “So what do we do with him?” nodding to Warren, “Let him go?”

“No!” Wes warned.

“Yes!” Nurse Van said at the same instant.

Wes, “Van? C’mon!”

“You can’t held him like that Wes, as far as the keys are concerned he’s not our guy.”

“But room 124…” Wes realized his statement didn’t hold much weight.

“Circumstantial, and without the key to prove he’s got bad intentions, you don’t have much to go on…”

“So we vote again?” Jason tried to clarify.

Franklin mimed a yawning motion, and peered at a wristwatch on his right arm that wasn’t there.

Wes, deflated, “Yes. All in favor of releasing Warren?”

Nancy, Jason, Jackie, Nurse Van, and of course Warren all shouted “Aye”. With some trepidation the stragglers of the group glanced around. Thoughts of being in Warren’s shoes must’ve dominated their thinking for after a moment Sam, Bernadette, Amy joined the aye camp.

Following a heavy sigh, Wes concluded, “There you go, opposed vote not needed.”

Franklin casually hefted up Warren’s wrists, removed a dagger from the satchel on his side, and cut the zip tie in twane.

“What about getting them off my wrists?” Warren complained.

Franklin just shrugged, tucking his knife back in the satchel.

Without speaking, Warren eyed the entire group, as he rubbed at his hands he then stormed from the cafeteria.

“What now?” Jason inquired.

“Now, we get on with the problem of your infestation in room 124.” Franklin redirected.

Wes watching the doors where Warren had exited from, “I still wanna know who has that key. And you can’t collect your fee if we can’t get to our food resources.”

“True,” Franklin conceded. “But I’ve got no fee to collect if we don’t do the work first. We’ll have to cross that bridge afterwards.”

“What’s the plan?” Sam asked quickly.

“Toss one of your sticks of dynamite under the door?” Nurse Van offered.

“Believe me I’d love to,” Franklin smiled, “but that could compromise the perimeter of your building since room 124 is on the outer edge of the structure. No sense in cleaning up the zombies in there, if we’re just gonna leave a opening for others to come in.”

“So what then? I don’t want to get near those things.” Amy clutched Sam’s arm at the thought.

The group looked to Franklin, with his smudged sweat-streaked face paint as though he was some kind of subject matter expert on the undead.

“Controlled chaos.” Franklin answered. “We have two person control the door. Two people doing ‘crowd control’ up front, one with a side arm. Someone with a blade. The door’s wide enough for two at a time. We get two others to work backup in case there’s overflow or…”

“Or what?” Jackie asked plainly.

“Or any of the children wriggle through any extra space by chance.”

Jason winced at the thought.

“When do we do this?”

“I’d vote now. Wes, we just need you to figure who’s doing what.” Franklin stated.

“No,” Wes corrected, “We volunteer, and if that doesn’t work we vote, or draw straws. Who wants to step up?”

Nurse Van and Jackie stepped forward. Wes nodded. Sam too raised a hand, followed by Bernadette.

Amy could be seen mouthing the words, “Please be careful” to Sam.

Franklin spoke up, “You know I’m in.”

“Thank you all. Ok, so Sam and Franklin you two will handle the door. Bernie and I will run back up. Van, Jackie if you two don’t mind?”

“Not at all, in my view we’re making it right.” Van said.

“Giving them peace, yes I agree.” added Jackie. “Where do we get weapons?”

Franklin grinned broadly, “I expect these back at the end of the adventure.” He handed Jackie the knife he used to cut Warren’s zip tie, and Nurse Van a Glock 9mm. The two women eyed each other briefly and then traded implements, they both nodded.

At the door the group lines up, the same intense look carved on their faces; adrenaline mixed with uncertainty. Franklin nods, and the group readies their weapons, and gets into position.

Wes looks to Franklin one last time  before they begin, “What if-”

“What if this just all goes to shit?” Franklin offers, to Wes’s nod. “Then we run as fast and as hard as we can back to the cafeteria and barricade the doors, come up with a plan B.” Franklin looks to the other group members, “Got that?”

They nod, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

“On three, Jackie you give the count.” Franklin instructed.

Muscles tensed, jaws clenched, the group readies themselves. In the rear, Wes and Bernadette, armed with two hunting knives from Franklin’s bag lined up in their best defensive stances. Franklin and Sam dug in just to the side of the door, Franklin’s hand gripped the handle, waiting for the count. And lastly, Jackie and Nurse Van tried the best they could to stay loose up front.

Nurse Van could see the black-rotted teeth and grey mottled skin of one of the zombies. He pressed his mouth against the small window, gnawing at the thin glass pane. A primal growl worked its way up from the thing’s throat. It sounded both desperate and otherworldly.

“Whatever happens don’t stop swinging.” Jackie reminds Nurse Van.

“You got it. You take left, I’ll take right. Any get out of formation, call it or knock them off balance to feed them back to Wes and Bernie.”

As uncertainty threatened to overpower the silence, Jackie began her count in a deadly serious tone, “1...2...3!”

Franklin pulled back the door, as Sam helped him steady it against the weight of the dead. It didn’t take long before the bodies began to jostle and knock against it. Sam and Franklin held strong.

Jackie saw the full face of the lead zombie she had previewed through the window. It was a young EMS technician. She didn’t hesitate to put a bullet in his brain. The report of the Glock was powerful in the tight hallway, and Bernadette jumped at the sound.

Nurse Van reared back and slashed over and over with her knife. Thick black streams of half congealed blood streamed through the air. The sounds of flesh tearing was offset by the nearly rhythmic discharge of the pistol in Jackie’s hands. The two women could’ve been mistaken for battle hardened combat veterans, the way they methodically dispatched every decayed face that was put before them. In fact, things were going perfectly. It seemed the haphazard plan to remove the scourge of room 124 was destined to be successful.

That was until Warren, sporting a deranged look upon his face, appeared behind Wes.