April 13, 2007
DEAD PEOPLE: Leland & Clarissa: Room & Board
A writing snippet. I'm trying to get myself back into the swing. What follows is what oozed out of my head one night when I couldn't sleep. I'm working on a huge zombie series called Dead People. But the creative juices are coming a little slower than I thought. For those who've emailed me about the delay, I hope this wet's your whistle. Peace n' La™
NOTE: Yes!, there are typos and other inconsistencies, but that'll be taken care of when I finish
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"I'm out!" Leland shouted as his .38 popped its last round in the horde of advancing bodies. He stood inside the cab of a red '72 Ford Impala, trying to focus on what their next move would be. Across the street, standing on the roof of a Hummer turned on it's side, Clarissa chose her shots carefully. The assault rifle she lifted from the gun shop a half a mile away was clean and accurate, but low on ammunition.
"Just drop it." she called over calmly and tossed him the camouflage duffel bag she had slung over her shoulder.
For her, "Desert Storm" took over. Her military training masked her fear, like the Corp. had taught her. At the first sign of the walking dead, she had plotted her kill zone thoroughly. She found her targets within the cross hairs and nailed each body with precision kill shots to the chest and stomach.
They fell just like she expected them to...
...and then got back up again.
It was only when she started shooting them in the head, that the bodies stayed down.
Leland dove into the duffle bag and found a pair of Glok 26's packed in the original casings. He slid a thirteen round clip into each of them and stuff six extra clips into his pockets.
"Head shots, dude." he heard her say. "Make 'em count."
Leland and Clarissa took turns with quick concise shots. Nearly each shot was a skull shot. And even though they dropped their share of bodies, there were more and more pouring into the streets.
"This isn't good." he said as he dropped his empty clips and reloaded. "This isn't good!"
"Shit! Move!" Clarissa ordered as she scanned the streets on both ends. There was no escaped. Both the east and west lanes on Bush street were packed with zombies. Moaning, stumbling zombies; their arm out-raised for the last two living bodies on the street.
What they lacked in mobility, they made up for in sheer numbers. They poured into the streets from all crevices; the undead, risen from thier sleep. How and why it happened, no one could say. The day started like any other Sunday morning. But instead of waking to the sound of sports and religious programming, everyone gathered around televisions, websites and radios alike to witness the horror of crazed figures attacking anything that moved.
Killing them.
Eating them.
Leland slung the duffel bag over his shoulder and followed his retreating partner off the cars and into the street. Arms reached for them, clawing at their clothes. The two of them ducked and dodged the immobile hordes and made their way to a section of the sidewalk that was cordoned off by a diesel truck and two police cars. They quickly climbed the the truck's turned-over underbelly and crossed the trailer to find themselves safely protected by the wreckage and in front of small clothing store with big sign that said "AMBIANCE".
Arms stretched into the cracks within the barricades, trying to grab their prey. Clarissa backed away until her back slammed into the large glass store window.
"Let's get cover!" she shouted. She raised the butt of her rifle to smash in the window, when Leland grabbed her arm.
"Wait." he said, pointing to the door, which was slightly ajar. "I'm getting the store clerk didn't have time to lock up."
They both slithered into the darkened store, guns raised.
Leland held his right arm up and bent at 90 degrees in front of his chest; a flashlight pointing out in front of him. His gun hand rested on top, parallel with the flashlight. He's seen Mulder and Scully do that on "X-Files". He kept his knees slightly bent so he could maneuver at a moments notice.
Clarissa widened her eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness, when she saw movement off to the side of the main counter. It was a woman, peaking at them from behind the counter. Her eyes stared at them with brightened shock.
"Oh sh*t." Clarissa said lowering her gun and going to help the woman. As she bent down to survey the woman's injuries, she glanced over at the direction of the fallen woman's legs...
...or at least where her legs should have been.
That's when the brighten look of fear turned into an inhuman snarl. The woman's face snarled and she swiped at Clarissa with the two fingers she had left on her right hand. The fingers caught under Clarissa's vest and locked in as the zombie pulled herself up to rip out her throat.
In a flash Leland was in the mix. He'd brought the ghoul's momentum to a dead halt by grabbing her thick mane of overly permed hair.
Clarissa sent a series of palm thrusts under the corpse's chin until she let go. And as the woman turned her attention to Leland, snapping at the hand that held her, he brought the barrel of his Glok to it's eye socket and pulled the trigger.
The back of it's head popped open. The body dropped lifeless to the floor.
Leland slowly rose the gun's sight up from the corpse to put it and the flashlight's radius directly on Clarissa, who had her arms raised.
"Dude, you got zombie all over me!"
"You bit?" he asked.
"Don't know." she replied. "Don't think so."
She didn't sweat the fact that he'd drawn his gun on her. They had a pact. They were partners. And if one of them was infected, they wouldn't be allow to turn. They'd handle it right then and there.
No questions.
Clarissa took off her vest and allowed Leland to survey her body.
"You're clean." he said holstering his gun. "What the f*ck was that? You're the military one! You should know not to..."
"I know!" she replied. "I'm just tired. Wasn't thinking straight."
"Well wake the f*ck up." he said, pulling a tourist map of San Francisco out of the duffle bag. "You're too f*ckin' hot for me to be killing."
She laughed and shook her head. "Yeah. Judging from the activity outside, I might be the hottest f*ckin' woman on the planet right about now."
"Naw." Leland replied. "Did you see that little Philly with the pink dress and Knee-high socks? Smokin' hot! Sure, she only had one arm and no bottom lip, but still... HOT!"
"WOW.. It's The Apocalypse out there, and men are still pigs."
He smiled. "Plus, no teeth? I'm just saying..."
"Just shut the f*ck up and bring the light here." she replied spreading the tourist map out on the table. "Now, where are we?"
Leland traced their steps. "We were here on Polk... traveled up to Bush and out to Levenwerst... We should be here."
Clarissa studied their position. "O.k, we're about four miles out. The last known address of the Doc was at a hotel a couple blocks off of the Wharf."
"You think he's still alive?"
"I don't know. Don't care, either. What we need is his access key card."
"And then where do we go?"
Clarissa lured at him. "You know I can't tell you that yet."
Leland sighed in frustration. "Come on, girl! Haven't i proved you can trust me?"
She laughed. "Hell no. You're a thief and a murder, Lee. And sure, we kinda need each other at the moment. But i don't know you from sh*t. And i'm not gonna have you stabbing me in the back once you get all the answers." she folded up the map and stuffed it into the duffel bag. "You wanna get out of this alive? You're gonna have to stick with me and do as I say."
"Whatever you say, Boss." he grinned.
He was gonna enjoy screwing her over.
"Whatever you say..."
to be continued...
Posted by toddkelley at April 13, 2007 12:00 PM
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