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Zombie Short Two: Emma, страница 1


Zombie Short Two: Emma

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Zombie Short Two: Emma

  Zombie Short Two: Emma

  G. Joseph

  Zombie Short Two: Emma

  G. Joseph

  Copyright 2012 by G. Joseph

  Thank you for your support.

  * NOTE

  The short story you are reading is a spin-off of a larger tale. If you enjoy the short then please consider reading more about this zombie infection in Guns, Booze & Zombies written by the same author.

  Thank you!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 - October 1932

  Chapter 2 - Ending the Terror

  Chapter 3 - To the Top

  Chapter 4 - Strangers


  October 1932

  "I have a bad feeling about this." I tell Tara as we watch Benson exit the speak with two mobsters.

  "Is he friendly with them?" Tara says.

  "No, not as far as I know. He's not the type to keep the company of men like them."

  "Darling," she says calling out to her husband Marty. He's over by the table noticeably intoxicated. Then again, who here isn't? Marty stumbles over and grabs Tara's hand before twirling her and dipping her body to kiss her neck.

  "Yes, my love?" he says grinning.

  "Be a darling and check on Emma's friend Benson Doss. He just exited with some men and it would ease her to know he's alright."

  "Oh it certainly would Marty. Would you please?" I say chiming in.

  "I can do that." he says slyly as he dances his way toward the front steps. He's in a sprightly mood which makes me happy. Marty Malcolm doesn't usually accompany his wife on our trips to this lovely speakeasy we call Free Haven. To be honest he seemed disgusted when we first entered. But there's nothing a few glasses of whiskey won't fix.

  "Thank you for that Tara. I don't mean to be a bother I just want to know that he's safe."

  "No need to thank me Emma. I saw the way you were looking at Benson all night. Don't try to convince me he's just some passing acquaintance."

  "But he is Tara. We had something not too long ago but then he just ran out on me. I haven't seen him since but I always looked forward to the moment I'd see him again."

  "Well tonight was that night so congratulations but the night isn't over. Let's make the most of it." Tara says as she grabs my arm and leads me to the band. Free Haven is busy tonight and the crowd is lovely. Everyone is donning a smile save for a few goons in the back. The name of the game is drinks and entertainment; although you can easily assume Tara and I are the entertainment by the way we're stealing the spotlight. The band behind us doesn't seem to mind. They stand from their seats and lather us with music. I spin around and around revealing my smile to everyone in sight. The times are cruel, but in this space, at this very moment, nothing else matters. I catch sight of Marty coming down the stairs.

  "There's Marty, Tara." I say pointing. Tara waves her arms out to grab his attention. He doesn't look our way. Marty is holding his chest and his head is aimed down looking at his feet.

  "I think the bloke has had enough to drink." says Tara sarcastically. We begin to approach her husband when he crumbles to the ground and slams his forehead down. Tara breaks into a run and drops to her knees. The music doesn't stop for the occasion. It's not uncommon for folks to get ahead of themselves here at Free Haven although most of the occupants are informed enough to know when to stop. Tara pulls his head and neck onto her legs.

  "He's been shot!" she screams out. The news shocks those around but the speak is rather large so it does little to alter the mood. I crouch near her and slowly move his hand from his chest. Tara is kissing his forehead and trying to talk to her unresponsive husband. Suddenly I realize that the wound couldn't be a gunshot. There's no bullet hole where his hand was shielding. Instead there's a large piece of skin missing and the muscles of his chest are exposed. Something had pulled a sizeable portion of his skin off.

  "Someone please get some help. He needs a doc--" Tara's words are cut short as Marty begins to shake wildly. This time a crowd starts to form. A man shoots in and drops to his knees with us. He tells Tara that he can help and to let Marty ride out the tremors. Tara is a strong woman. She holds back her tears but her pain is on full display by her face. She dips down and goes face-to-face with Marty pleading him to stop shaking. Marty grants her wish. In a violent burst Marty Malcolm bites onto Tara's face and turns to his side still clenching his teeth. Her screams flood the room and finally the band stops playing.

  "That son of a bitch bit her!" says a man at a table. Marty is tackled to the ground by several patrons, all of which let go of him when they too are bit. One of the men falls onto his back with blood streaming from his jugular. I don't react accordingly; it's all happening so fast. What in the world has gotten into Marty? I grab Tara by the shoulders to pull her to a safer area in the speakeasy. She has her face in her hands but she's not putting any pressure on the wound. Blood is filling the bowl made by her palms.

  The mobsters have seen enough. There's a lead man in the room, I've seen him on several occasions. He removes the cigar from his lips and flicks his finger in our direction. Immediately after the gesture three men in dark suits make an approach. They shove the other people away and corner Marty who's gnawing and angling his head in their direction. The goon in the front jumps forward and pushes Marty hard enough that he spins out of control. The second goon takes Marty's back and wraps his arm around his neck. He's squeezing with all he has but Marty isn't quitting, not for a second. By the look on the goon's face you'd imagine Marty's head to pop off but he retaliates in an all too familiar way leaving the mobster with less of a forearm than he arrived with. The whole speak is standing at attention and people are leaving in droves. It's taken this long but I'm finally feeling terrified by it all. I need to help Tara stop the bleeding.

  "Tara dear, you're going to be okay. I'm going to get my jacket and we're going to get you some help." I tell her holding her tight. My jacket is on a stool away from the commotion so I sprint over trying to remain calm. I'm bumped by a mobster and I fall to the ground. The gentleman doesn't even bother to help me up but I get an eyeful of a large gun he's carrying and quickly back off. I reach my jacket and pull a pen from the pocket. I write a quick note and slip it into the hat I wore here tonight. The note is intended for Benson, should he return. There's a man's coat on the floor and I slip my hat under it praying it gets found. There's a scream from the other end of Free Haven. The crowd is in a frenzy but as they make way I see the man Marty had bit on the neck. He's animated and chasing those near similar to the way Marty is acting. I've got to get Tara out of this mess. I run back to her direction, barreling through crowds of people all scared and heading to the front exit. I reach the corner I brought Tara. No trace of her except for a small puddle of blood.



  Ending the Terror

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