Blogvengers Part One, Zombies Come Undone!

BlogvengersThe Initial HoursZombies With Powers
     “I’m sorry for your fate, my friend.”
     Trucker whispered as he gripped his bloody axe and began slashing away at the groaning body below him to the max. Tears streamed down his face, the beads falling on the rotting carcass, who no longer moved and remained in place. He fell to his knees leaning over the body as leaves blew by with the subtle breeze.
     “I didn’t want this. I only wanted to bring mankind to the next level of our evolution.” Trucker held up the head and stared at it as it bled. “Suffer the fools who play God. This is my curse, to suffer.”
     Trucker gripped his axe and swung around to a whole group of Creepers, who were gaining ground. The spit fumed from their mouth as their rotting stench could be smelled fifty miles south. They groaned as they stomped toward him, a mindless horde, who were obviously quite dim. Their one track mind’s thinking only of food, starving because of their growing brood. Their eyes widened by the thought of fresh meat as nothing but the dead littered the street.
     “I will try my best to put you out of your misery, it is the least I can do. But if you should win, I understand and I deserve it.”
     Trucker awaited his fate as he stood there looking like fresh Creeper bait. He gripped his axe like a log and became engulfed in a shiny fog. He swung it in every direction he could and chopped many of the Creepers like wood. But felt a bite to his arm and was surrounded by Creepers, who were ready to cause harm. Trucker simply smiled as they knocked him to the cold concrete and stared to the sky, having no regrets in his defeat. His smile turned to concern as his eyes began to burn and a blinding flash appeared overhead. Suddenly, three figures dropped and seemed baffled as they glared at the undead.
     “What kind of Walking Dead crap is this? I knew I shouldn’t have gone into that public bathroom. Being sucked down a toilet is the worst Alice in Wonderland reincarnation ever.”
     The Creepers darted at the averaged sized, scruffy faced man and the two cats by his side. The three ran and decided to divide. They figured their best bet would be to get the horde into separate groups, so they could throw them for loops.
     “Ha! You two have nothing on the cat. Falling for the oldest trick in the book, crashing together and falling flat.”
     “Don’t get too cocky, Orlin. This doesn’t seem to be some run of the mill blog adventure.”
     Trucker looked on astounded as the cats began to speak, he thought he was losing his mind from his wounds, from which the blood continued to leak. It had pooled around him and the lights were growing dim, as all the Creepers went after the moving bait and tried to make Pat and the cats suffer the same fate. Trucker’s vision began to blur but he still watched the black spotted cat with the golden fur, taunt and tease the zombies with ease. He even threatened to put fleas on their knees. The grey tabby with a white shaped patch on her chest, zipped from east to west. Not a hair was out of place as she kicked the Creepers in their knees and then once more in the face.
     “Orlin, did you fart?” Pat asked as he looked around and once more a cloud of fog was found. Pat could not see a thing but continued to let the stick he picked up fling. The cats could still see through the fog and both realized this was not some adventure for the blog. Things seemed to be more dire and they noticed Pat about to expire.
     “Duck, Pat! That is an order from the cat.”
     “Orlin, do you have to keep referring to yourself as the cat?”
     The two argued as they ran in for the save and kicked the Creeper in the teeth preventing Pat from landing in an early grave. Pat stabbed the moving Creeper with the stick and the fog, which was ever so thick, disappeared as the Creeper gave a final groan. The three looked around realizing they were all alone. “What could have happened this time, as this was no ordinary rhyme.” Is what went through their head, as they looked over Trucker who was just about dead. They knew the rules of “once bitten you don’t come back” and prepared to end Trucker with an attack.
     “Immun..nn..ee..” Trucker muttered as he slipped unconscious before the three and they stopped to help him, deciding to flee.
     “Pat, what if he is really isn’t immune?”
     “Then I shove this stick through his zombie eye.”
     “You make him fry but can a dead thing once again die?”
     The three bickered as Pat carried Trucker the best he could, lose a few pounds this science geek, fireman cross really should. They searched for some place to hide and tried to figure out what or who had brought them across the divide. They noticed how everything had pretty much died and each knew this was going to be one wild ride.
****************************************     “Dr. Zoggif, sir! I think the matter converter has had a malfunction. We detected foreign matter in the stream.” The Lab Tech stated as she stared at the results of their test, she knew they had tried their best but something went wrong. Yet Dr. Zoggif sang a different song.
     “Bullocks! Everything went just as it was supposed to. You just weren’t supposed to see that. Why must you always be so smart?”
     The Lab Tech’s eyes widened to the size of her face, as Dr. Zoggif wrapped his hands around her neck in a tight embrace. She tried to shake free and shout out a final plea, but his mammoth sized hands were too large and he remained in charge. He smiled as the life slipped from her eyes and he finally heard no more of her muffled cries.
     “You’ve eaten your last chocolate my dear, Robyn. If only you would have took a break when I told you too.”
     Dr. Zoggif tossed her body into the rainbow looking matter stream and it vaporized to dust as soon as it hit the beam. His overbearing laugh echoed throughout his lab, as he stood looking as if with one hand he could flip over a cab.
     “Now those of the blogverse will finally get what is coming to them. I will destroy them all and then move on to my true targets. Goodbye and good riddance.”
     Dr. Zoggif gave a sly smirk as he simply hit a button on his machine and blogs from around the world went barren and no more words on them were seen. He glared at the beam and knew with this task he was one step closer to his dream.
****************************************     “Pat! He’s awake. Get ready to stab him with your stake.”
     “Orlin, you don’t need to impress at the moment. So stop with the rhyme!”
     Trucker’s sight was still a little off as he began to cough. Pat stood over him ready to strike should Trucker go all zombie like. Instead he waved the dust from his face and stood up thinking he was in some Twilight Zone crazy place.
     “They can talk? Clearly I’m not as immune to the Creeper bites as I thought.”
     “Try living with them. It was bad enough before but ever since Gawker Island they won’t shut up.”
     “Pat, don’t you try and offend the cat.”
     Trucker still had little clue about what had come due. We all knew this was some ploy and there was some big bad out there getting some joy. Having been through the ringer a time or ten, we all knew it would be a while before we were in the comfort of our den.
     “I have to admit, this is the first time we’ve been thrown into some Dawn of the Dead type situation though. What was up with the fog?”
     “That and those Creepers you see out there are all my doing. I wanted to help the world but instead I ended it.”
     “Leave it to humans to screw things up. You guys are more pathetic than a butt sniffing pup.”
     “Are you sure there isn’t an off switch? What made them speak?”
     “Trust me I’ve looked for some Hello Again voodoo curse. Nothing seems to work. As far as the speaking goes, well….”
     Orlin and Cassie perked up their ears and then hunched down from their zombie fears. It seemed no one was going to get answers today as more zombies were coming their way. Rotting arms started rattling the walls, as they gave off their hunger calls. Then one with huge arms busted through. He was like some zombie Rambo leading his expendable crew.
     “What the hell is that?”
     “A Creeper with super strength.”
     “So you are telling me these zombies have powers?”
     “Sadly, that is pretty much the size of it. Have you three been living under a rock?”
     Pat and the cats both stood in awe, not believing what they heard or saw. Trucker could not understand what the big deal was, as for months the Creepers have been a buzz. He was more concerned over two talking cats and how they were going to scurry away like rats.
     “What I wouldn’t give for a good cozy rock. Quick Pat, throw them a stinky sock.”
     “Orlin, what is that going to do? Blind them. Pat, we have to run. There are too many of them.”
     Trucker stood ready to fight once more. He seemed to have a death wish or was an attention whore. He told the Creepers to come and get some, as he picked up a board and said a prayer to the lord. Pat looked for a way out. But nothing seemed to happen until he heard a familiar shout.
     “Drazin has to save you fleabags and the nutcase again. Why do you keep dragging Drazin into these things.”
     The roof smashed in as the zombies began to storm the hideaway. Pat and the cats were never so glad to hear Drazin’s third person display. He dropped down a rope from the smashed in hole. The cats scurried up, yelling for Pat to ignore Trucker’s goal.
     “Come with us if you want to live.” Pat shook his head over what he said. “I didn’t mean to go all movie wannabe there. You won’t survive this. Drazin may be a bald headed nutcase that thinks he’s a god. But I’ll take his goatee stroking ass over zombies any day.”
     “Go! I will hold them off. This is my fate, I will not run from it. I will not hide. These Creepers are my doing and I have to stop them or die trying.”
     “So melodramatic. You are a regular…” Pat gave an expression of what the hell as he was pulled from the overrun zombie cell.
     “Drazin has no time for heroes. Drazin wants to get the hell out of here.”
     “For once I agree with the godly one.”
     “Yeah Pat, that guy down there has the brains of a gnat.”
     Pat stood looking down the hole as Trucker fought off the zombies that continued to stroll. He watched as the Rambo zombie came charging in determined he was going to win. He busted the wall and the whole building started to shake. The group felt like they were in an earthquake.
     “Let’s go!” Pat yelled and everyone took off for god only knows where. Zombies with powers was surely something they never thought they’d come across away from their lair. They jumped to the next building before it all turned to dust. It looked like Trucker’s attempt to stop the zombies went bust. Thankfully the zombies all fried in the collapse too. At least those ones, as they spotted many more coming into view.
     “This is ridiculous. Give me Gawker Island any day.”
     “Did Drazin ever say how much Drazin hates zombies?”
     “I thought they’d be right up your alley. Slow and dumb, they must be distant relatives.”
     “Shut up, fleabag, or Drazin will use you as bait.”
     “Now is not the time. Let’s get out of here before this is my last rhyme.”
     The group all climbed down as fast as they could and headed off into the woods. The zombies all crowded around the building debris. Not noticing as the group continued to flee. Pat thought about what dumb zombies could do with powers, as the cats stopped to chow down on some flowers. Drazin simply muttered away and all any of them wanted was to get back home to stay.
                                           ****************************************
     “That’s the last of it, Brian. The dVerse bar is now officially dry on everything. What are we going to do? It’s been months and no help has come.”
     Mary leaned over the bar staring at the tip jar. She tried to wrap her head around how a bar could disappear and then reappear in this land of fear. One moment she and the others were logging on to their blog and then came a fog. The next she knew they were all here and she felt the end was drawing near.
   The others crowded around Brian looking for answers to their plight. He wished his Mohawk had not grown to such a height. Not really wanting to be in charge but he accepted the responsibility as the bar was his barge. Things were so much easier when his co-owner Claudia was around. But sadly she was buried in the ground. She had suffered a blow in the first zombie attack one which from she could never come back.
     "We will stick together and get supplies." Brian declared to the group, like they would easily find soup.  He wished he could just gawk and write about it all but he had used up all the space on the bathroom wall.
     "That is your best advice? Find food? Where did you get that idea? Off of a fortune cookie?" The Poetry Critic sat smoking a cigarette. Death from lung cancer would be a good bet, but with zombies about he had no want to put them out.
     "No one asked you!"
     "Yeah, shut up!"
     "Feisty crowd today." The Poetry Critic smiled from ear to ear and then gave all a look of fear. Zombie arms busted through the dVerse bar wall. They yanked The Poetry Critic through and he was served up the zombies mess hall.
    "A fate all critics should enjoy." Mary snickered and ran off with the group out the back door. They did not want to explore, but their home was soon over run, each of them wishing they had a big gun.

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And there we are. Another story beginning at my bar. Pat, the cat, Cassie and the Drazin loon. I'm sure many will join this zombie sand dune. I guess it is an October thing as the long ones start this time of year at my wing. Did too much come to pass? Once in a while I have to be a mouthy little rhyming ass.
Later all, have a nice fall.