Chapter 16 - Impossible Odds

June 10th, 2008
2:17pm
Upstairs Headquarters

Time passed slowly for the besieged Fools. All of the male Fools (save Beard) had grown noticeable stubble on their chins, and knowledge of the growing threat outside left all of them tense. The constant moans grew louder each day, causing sleepless nights and restless days. There was little to do but sit and wait, hoping for some sort of help from the outside. They watched helplessly as time stole their rations away, moving from three full garbage bags to two.

Everything became a source of conflict. Plumbing had shut down the night before, and the inconvenience only exacerbated the irritability of the group. Five people sleeping in the crowded living room seemed like four too many, and the heat and humidity turned misunderstanding into bickering. The walls seemed to close in, and what little entertainment they had at hand was quickly exhausted.

T.Rex tried desperately to stick to a schedule. He encouraged everybody to sleep later to avoid the monotony of being awake. With rationing, breakfast, lunch, and dinner became little more than snack times at regular intervals. Even improv, for all its variability, began to wear thin. The group seemed to go through the motions of each game, but creativity was fading fast.

The number of zombies outside continued to increase each passing day.

---

It was Wednesday afternoon when the Fools first heard sounds outside other than the horrible moans of the living dead.

It started as a faint hum in the distance. "Did you hear something?" asked Angel Hair.

"It's just your imagination, kid," said T.Rex, wearily.

"No no, I think I heard it too. It's getting louder, I think," said Kamikaze. She went to the window and began peering through the blinds. Moments later a loud thud was heard, and Peace came running into the living room from the hallway, screaming.

"Guys! Guys! I was on the roof and I saw something! Look out the window right now!" he said as he yanked the cord for the blinds downward, flooding the room with bright sunlight. The Fools gathered around and watched in amazement as zombies at the end of the road began to violently flop aside as a hunter green object slowly but surely plowed through the crowd of living dead.

The sound grew into a beastly engine roar as the object continued to push towards the apartment parking lot. As the zombies were shoved aside, it became clear that it was a vehicle making its way forward. A Pontiac Bonneville.

"Anybody else think that might be Val?" Beard asked, hesitantly.

"I sure fucking hope so!" said Ryan.

"Who's Val?" Rubble asked.

Kamikaze said "I wonder how he got through all of this."

"Wait, Val is a he?" Rubble said.

"Guys! Everybody grab your packs and get ready to move, now." T.Rex commanded.

"Will somebody tell me who this 'Val' person is?" Rubble begged, pulling his backpack on. The rest of the Fools wasted no time quickly gathering their packs.

"Not who, but what," Ryan said as he double checked the ammunition in his rifle. "Valerie Rose is Benji's car."

Loaded with their equipment, the Fools gathered once more at the window and watched in eager anticipation. Valerie, still revving her engine as she pushed through the thickening crowd, was covered in scrap metal that had been welded on at lethal angles. Several dents and scratches covered the vehicle from numerous creatures that had been struck, and blood marred the dark paint.

The Fools exploded in cheers as Valerie slowed to a stop outside of the apartment. Forcing the door open with a mighty kick, Benji emerged from the driver's seat carrying a chainsaw, with a gun strapped across his back. He fought his way onto the roof of Valerie, caving in a zombie skull with his boot in the process. Standing tall atop the vehicle, he looked around at the masses of living dead now drawn to his position and grinned.

A single zombie managed to climb atop the hood of the car and it shuffled for him. Benji reached behind him and in one fluid motion pulled a shotgun from his back holster, held it straight out, and blew the zombie's head clean off.

Nobody, zombie or otherwise, had heard such a thunderous sound in over a week. The Fools waited in nervous anticipation. As the zombies converged on Valerie, Benji calmly blew the smoke from the barrel of the shotgun and shouted:

"Alright, you primitive screw-heads, listen up! See this?" he held the gun aloft over his head. "This... is my boom boom stick! It's a twelve-gauge, double-barreled Remington, Kieslers' top of the line. You can find this in the sporting department. That's right, this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It retails for about $109.95. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel, and a hair trigger. You got that? Now, I swear, the next one of you primates even touches me-"

Just then, a zombie managed to grasp hold of Benji's ankle and struggled to pull him into the mass of waiting hands and mouths below. Benji lowered the barrel of the shotgun and fired a round into the crowd below, obliterating the closest four zombie skulls outright, and knocking a few others back. He re-holstered the shotgun to his back and reached over with his free hand to grab the starter for the chainsaw. With a mighty draw the chainsaw roared to life.

The Fools burst from the upstairs apartment door. Renee lowered her rope ladder and went first and the rest of the Fools followed her. As they reached the ground they all removed their weapons and prepared to fight their way to Valerie.

"Now," Benji yelled over the moaning and machinery. "Let's talk about how we get you Fools back home!"


Current Word Count: 20,542