Note: WordPress likes to rejangle my indenting shizz. My apologies for the shitetastic formatting. Please enjoy a short, short story inspired by a conversation with my Progenitor earlier today. And I do say enjoy …
Part 1: Left For Bread
Hellbro climbs out of a freezer, shivering, and stands face-to-face with a she-zombie who reeks of microwaved cat vomit and fresh urinal cakes. ‘Shit,’ he says and jerks away from her groping hands. His runners slide on the blood-slickened floors as he scrambles to the nearest aisle, but he can’t stop in time. Hellbro slams into the shelves. Thankfully they’re stocked with loaves of bread.
He quickly stands and wipes his hands on his ruined green jeans. The she-zombie—wearing a tattered Coles uniform—repeatedly pounds the freezer’s slide door with her gnarled fists.
Some customers are cowering further down the aisle behind a pile of overturned shopping trolleys, they’re throwing cans and packets and bottles. Meanwhile one of them, a short familiar guy with brown hair is stuffing his pockets with chocolate bars.
Hey guys,’ Hellbro lobs a loaf of bread to the terrified group. ‘Check this out. Zombie’s trying to get ice cream, ha ha.’ He glances over his shoulder and notices that she’s moved on.
‘Dude, behind you,’ says Caldred the shoplifter.
Hellbro dashes down the aisle without looking back and hugs his brother. ‘Cal, what’s up?’
‘Ah, you know. Just hanging around, getting lunch and then this crap happens. Zim’s home, thankfully. Here.’ Caldred hands Hellbro a Crunchie bar. ‘Saved one for ya.’
‘Hey,’ Liz says; her voice shrill. ‘Shut up and throw …’
Entaris is crouched beside her, fiddling with a controller.
‘Seriously, bro, check this out,’ Caldred says. Half a dozen zombies loitering around a stand of magazines are flaying their arms, trying to catch the tiny RC helicopter that’s buzzing around their heads.
Hellbro claps Entaris on the shoulder.
‘Cal. Bro. I’m running out of ammo here.’ Liz says as she hurls a wok at the she-zombie behind Hellbro; it clangs as it strikes her forehead and then clatters across the ground. The she-zombie, despite missing half her teeth and both of her eyes, continues to shamble closer.
‘You know what we have to do.’ Caldred says, smiling.
Caldred swipes a can of baked beans, sprints and swings it at she-zombie’s face. Hellbro, Liz and Entaris let out a collective ‘urrrgh’ as the Heinz product pierces she-zombie’s sallow cheeks and shatters her jaw. She collapses to her knees, moaning. Purple-brown pulp slops onto the tiles.
‘Your turn,’ Cal says, stepping back.
‘Dude, she’s not a threat.’
‘You scared. Guys he’s scared.’
‘Hurry up,’ Liz says with a packet of two-minute noodles in hand.
‘Gimme a sec.’ Hellbro says.
Caldred grabs another can. ‘Come on. Oooh, sniper skills.’ He pelts the can at she-zombie’s neck.
‘Ok, ok.’ Hellbro says. After a deep breath, and swallowing the bile that just rose in his throat, Hellbro runs a hand through his hair and exhales loudly. ‘Ok guys, check this out—’
Everybody turns their heads to witness Sherizan impale she-zombie with a metal pole straight through the head. She kicks the zombie’s back and it slumps to the ground, gurgling.
‘We told you to stay with Mum and Dad!’ Liz says.
Sherizan stomps she-zombie’s head like it’s a mouldy banana. Squelch. ‘They need our help. Now!’
‘Alright guys.’ Hellbro says as he filches the Crunchie bar out of his pocket, tears the wrapper and takes a bite. ‘You heard her.’