Six Hours Remaining: Chapter 2 part 2

This is the second chapter of an "urban fantasy/slap-stick comedy with zombies" and a cat. Six hours left on the laptop battery. Four friends. One cat. Too many zombies.

• Read Chapter 1
• Chapter 2 part 1

 Six Hours Remaining

Chapter 2 part 2

“Damn you... kids.” Mr. Creeper mouthed around a swollen tongue. He began to stand up. James grabbed Nikki's hand and Gabriel stepped in front of them. Mr. Creeper pulled himself back up but his head flopped unnaturally to the side. The smell of rotting milk filled the air. He took a shambling step towards them--and they ran.

“Screw this! Back to the house!” James yelled as he pulled Nikki along with him. She soon outran him, leaving Gabriel trailing behind. They ran back across the street and burst through the front door of their apartment. Gabriel slammed the door behind them.

“I'm going to hurl,” Nikki said as she tried to catch her breath. James pressed his face against the window and pulled back the curtain.

“Is he following us?” Gabriel asked, heading to the kitchen. He grabbed his laptop off the kitchen table and stuffed it in his laptop bag.

"No, he's just standing there, staring. No, wait.” James closed the curtain a little more. Down the road, a scrawny Chihuahua was walking down the pavement. Once it spotted Mr. Creeper it began to bark and growl. The sound caused Mr. Creeper's neck to roll to the side. He began walking towards the dog, a slow but steady pace.

“It's Miss Molly's dog, that annoying yappy one. I think it knows Mr. Creeper,” James said.

“It's Mr. Smith. He's a zombie now, we might as well stop making fun of him.” Nikki stood beside James and watched.  

“You're no fun. Speaking of no fun...” James watched as the Chihuahua walked towards Mr. Smith and stopped barking. Mr. Smith reached out and pet the dog slowly on the head.

“See? He's harmless--”

Mr. Smith grabbed the dog by the neck. The dog began to snarl and bite at Mr. Smith's hands. The man didn't seem to notice as the dog drew blood with its needle-like teeth.

“Is Mr. Cre--I mean, Mr. Smith's blood green?” Nikki asked as a pale green liquid splashed on the dog. Mr. Smith shook the dog hard enough to break it's neck and then raised it to his mouth. His gray eyes stared across the road to the apartment window. He looked directly at James as his teeth tore in to the dog's throat.

“OK, can we be done now? Our neighbor just looked at me while he ate a dog. I'm done with today. I'm going back to bed.” James moved away from the window. Nikki closed the blinds and let James slump to the couch. In the kitchen, Gabriel was wrapping up his power cord and mouse.

“What are you doing Gabe?” Nikki asked, trying not to look over her shoulder to check on Mr. Smith.

“Packing. We can't stay here.” Gabriel went to the fridge and opened it.

“Why not? Can't we just barricade the windows?” Nikki asked as she walked towards the kitchen.

“Only if you want to cook like our neighbors,” Gabriel said as he pointed out the back window. The house fire had spread and was only two houses away.

“How did I not notice that?” Nikki asked as the smell of smoke overwhelmed her.

“I'm going to guess because we were too busy with the zombie across the street. You might want to start packing.”  

“James, James, get up,” Nikki spun on her foot and ran to the couch.  James eyes were glossy. He shook his head and avoided looking out the window. He stood shakily from the couch.

“Go get your backpack, the one with the water bottle built in.” Nikki motioned down the hall. James nodded and began walking towards their shared bedroom.

“You have a camel pack? Cool. I didn't know you two hiked,” Gabriel said as he stared in the fridge.

"Gabe, when have you ever seen us go outside? It's not for hiking, it's for standing in line for hours at a time at video game conventions, or opening movie night. We don't want to lose our place. Hiking. Do you even know us anymore?” Nikki glanced down the hall. “What should I be packing?”

Gabriel grabbed a few bottles and random items out of the fridge.

“Whatever you don't want to burn.”

Nikki swallowed and nodded.

“Let me try that again: whatever you don't want to burn, or have eaten by zombies.”

“That's not helping.”

Gabriel shrugged.

“I'm taking my laptop, and some food. And if I can find them, James has some of my comic books. Although we might want some weapons, too.”

James returned from the bedroom with his backpack over his shoulders and an armful of supplies. He threw them down on the couch: a baseball bat, a replica metal sword, two paintball guns, a flashlight, a pair of leather gauntlets from last year's Renaissance Faire, handful of ninja throwing stars, a box of LEGOS, and some CDs.

“Is that my copy of..? I've been looking all over for that.” James asked.

“It's a terrible CD. I hid it from you last summer. Now we're using it to fight zombies.”

“At least it was good for something.”

“Oh, and this.” James reached to his side and threw down an orange and white plastic Nintendo gun.

“Is that a Duck Hunt gun? Seriously?” Gabriel asked. James looked at it and shrugged.

“I was in a hurry. I thought, Nikki has whacked me with it before, and that thing hurt, but I see your point.”

“Let me get my dice bag, those 4-sided dies double as caltrops...”

“Good idea, Nik--”

A thud sounded at the front door. It wasn't loud enough to be called a 'knock,' but it still pulled everyone's attention to the front of the house. The smell of smoke grew stronger.

“Hey James, I think it's for you.” Gabriel said with raised eyebrows. James picked up the baseball bat from the couch and took a step towards the door. He used it to pull the curtain to the side. Outside, head flopped on one shoulder and a dead Chihuahua under one arm, stood  Mr. Creeper.

He stood outside the door, shifted from one foot to the other, and knocked again.

“Pizza.” Mr. Creeper announced, as if to improve his chances.

James checked to make sure the door was locked. That sudden sound of the rattling doorknob made Mr. Creeper move around to stand in front of the window.

"Does the chihuahua make it a 'Mexican' pizza?” Gabriel asked. Mr. Creeper began to pound on the glass.

“I don't care if it's a freaking pizza made out of gold and bullets, we need to get out of here!” James stepped back from the window and threw the baseball bat on the couch. He ran to the hall closet and pulled out his duffel bag. Nikki helped him load all their random weapons and supplies in to the bag, while Gabriel started to throw food in to plastic grocery bags.

“James, where'd you park the car when you got back from breakfast?” Gabriel asked as he threw Ramen Noodles and a bottle of Ketchup from the fridge in to a bag.

James blinked and looked back towards the door. Gabriel nodded.

“There's that car out back that's always unlocked, we could try that one.” They packed in silence that was interrupted only by the loud pounding of Mr. Creeper. The glass finally made a cracking sound. James hefted his duffel bag, Nikki took his backpack off his shoulders and Gabriel took his laptop bag and sacks of food. They rushed for the sliding glass door in the kitchen just as the glass window in the living room broke.

“So, where are we headed?” Nikki asked as they rushed across the back yard. Gabriel answered without hesitation.  

“We're going to Montana. To rescue Dawn.”

“Just checking. Run.”