Chris Pourteau - Tails of the Apocalypse

“I told you never to question me again, Joe. I told you what I’d do. Now you made me kill an innocent guy, ’cause you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. All you had to do was keep it zipped for two more days. Two days, Joe.”

“But he had the Cure. We can save them all—”

Gray grabbed Joe’s shirt and shook him. “When are you going to get it through your thick skull? I don’t want to save them. Nobody wants to save them. They just don’t want to have to fight ’em anymore. I’m making them useful. Obedient. Safe. Fuckable. Profitable , Joe. I’m turning lemons into lemonade. But you had to interfere. Now this guy’s friends are going to come looking for him. I’m going to have to push up the timeline. We’re going to have to move faster and get out of here tonight. Roll up your sleeves and find a pair of pliers and let’s go.”

“No,” said Joe. “I’m not helping you do this.”

Gray twisted the knife and let it shimmer in the pale light of the camp lantern.

“You want to hurt me for not helping, Gray, you go ahead and try. I think it best we part ways instead. I never joined you for this.”

Gray sneered. “You didn’t join me, Joe. I saved you. You were blind drunk in that bar because you were so scared. Just waiting to die. Just waiting to be eaten alive. I found you. I saved you. You owe me.”

“I don’t owe you this. I’m not going with you, Gray. I’ve gone along with too much. You said we were going to protect people. You said we were going to keep families safe from the Infected. And I believed you. I thought we were going to be like superheroes, fighting the zombies together and making the neighborhood normal again. I never wanted to be a slave trader or a murderer. Or a—or a pervert . I’m done. I’m going to the City. If you want to come with me, then I’ll take you. If you just want to hurt people, then I’m done.”

He took a step toward the fallen soldier, and Gray sprang after him, whistling loudly for his men. Joe turned and his arm slammed like a piston into the center of Gray’s chest. Even as he fell backward with a gasp, Gray slashed wildly at Joe, but he was too far away.

“Don’t make me hurt you, Gray,” Joe growled. But the sadist wasn’t listening. His blood was up. Gray recovered his feet and lunged again, making contact this time. The two men fell to the hard floor, and the entire shop seemed to shake. Surly tried to twitch her wings, her claws, anything to move. To help Joe.

Gray was quick and straddled Joe as they both struggled for the knife. His men were finally responding to the whistle and joined the fight, helping their boss to pin Joe down.

“I told you what would happen if you talked back, Joe. I warned you.” Gray punched Joe’s broken nose and the injured man groaned, unable to shield his face.

Surly finally managed to move one wing. She tried harder, flexing her claws.

“Joe’s betrayed us. He’d rather save those monsters than help his friends,” said Gray, getting up. As Joe moaned on the floor, clutching his face, Gray aimed a savage kick at Joe’s stomach. The other men joined in.

Surly managed to roll onto her stomach and pushed up with her feet. She was upright but dizzy. Her heart raced, and she was panting again. She had to rest for just a second.

“After everything we’ve done, Joe. We shared our food with you. Kept you from being devoured by the Infected. Gave you purpose. Let you tag along even though you were slower than the others. And you betray us?”

There were too many men now to fit around Joe, and they had to take turns beating him. Surly wondered who was watching the Infected. She gently flapped her wings, testing them. No way. She wouldn’t be able to do it in time.

“That’s enough, boys. I want to make sure he remembers this lesson. Get him onto the table.” Gray picked up the pliers. He leaned over Joe. “You know what’s coming,” he growled. Joe twisted and whipped for a few seconds, until the others restrained him, smashing him hard onto the table. “Open your mouth,” ordered Gray.

Surly flapped again. Her wings were finally starting to work. She hopped a little. Everything ached and she had a whistle deep in her chest, but there was no more time to recover. Not if she wanted to help Joe.

“I need more light,” shouted Gray and one of the men ran to the door beside Surly and opened it so the morning sun streamed in, spotlighting Joe as he writhed on the table. The man propped open the door so he could return to aid Gray, who told another man to hold Joe’s nose closed. That forced Joe to open his mouth.

Surly saw her chance. No one was watching. She could go. She could fly away and never see this place again. She could find the warm sun and ripening berries and clean air. She didn’t need to help Joe. She didn’t even need to think about him or Gray or the screaming Infected ever again.

What had humans ever done for her? She didn’t like them, she reminded herself, and they’d always hated her. Ten years in the pet shop and never adopted. Why did she need a human now? No one had ever been kind to her. Not the owner, not the attendants or customers, not even the other animals.

But that wasn’t quite true, was it? Joe had been kind to her. He’d stroked her feathers and cared for her. He’d kept the other man from eating her, like they’d eaten Princess.

Joe screamed behind her, and Gray laughed wickedly. He had Joe’s tongue pulled too far past his lips with the pliers. Surly at last gathered her strength and burst upward with an echoing shriek, one she’d heard over and over from the Infected the night before.

Gray’s men whirled around, panicking and releasing their hold on Joe. Gray barked orders and they scattered to find the Infected that were on the loose. But Gray wouldn’t be moved from his task. His knife slithered through the thick sponge of Joe’s tongue, slicing half of it off.

Joe’s gagging screams filled the shop as Gray turned to face the bird. Surly dove like a hawk, attacking the arm holding the knife, tearing the skin of his hand with her claws, still screaming like the Infected, echoing Gray’s deeds back at him. She took off again and landed on the back of his neck, slamming her wings into his head.

Joe turned to his side on the table, coughing on a mouthful of blood. Surly stabbed at Gray’s ears and cheeks with her beak, trying to work her way around to his eyes while avoiding the man’s hands clutching for her as she attacked the back of his neck. He was shouting for his men to return, to help him. Surly didn’t let up, screaming the Infected’s shriek and battering Gray as he backed further into the pet shop.

Attracted by the shouts and no longer herded back into the large clothing store, the Infected had sprinted to the pet shop. Gray’s men struggled to control them. For weeks the Infected had been bound and walked to the point of exhaustion, fed only enough to keep them on their feet. Gray’s men had become lazy and neglectful, lulled by the seeming ease of controlling them. But the Infected were well rested by their pause at the mall and the screams from the pet shop had excited them. Some had torn their hands free of the ropes that bound them and clawed at their captors or pulled the mouthpieces from their own faces. One had gnashed through his mouthpiece while his hands were still bound. He roared, tattered streamers of cloth drooping and fluttering around his neck like an old shroud as he closed his ragged teeth on a captor’s shoulder.

Gray’s men were surrounded, and they brandished knives and axes as if it would deter or delay anything. The bitten man howled and bashed at his attacker. Another Infected growled deep in her throat and leaped onto the bitten man’s back, clawing at his throat. Disoriented by the parrot’s frenzied attack, Gray stumbled right into the middle, pushing past a few of the Infected without even realizing it. The cluster of Infected closed in, roaring and grabbing at Gray and his men.