Zombvenger! Episode Three: Walk Like An Egyptian
On my left are two zombified children, covered in blood and growling, reaching for their next meal. On my right is a terrified human with a gun, who hasn’t stopped screaming since he saw me, aiming at the heads of the adorable undead cherubs. The only thing between them is me, a broom handle, and a small dog.
Just another Tuesday for the Zombvenger.
Like the name? I thought of it yesterday when I found a little kid crying over their mommy as a zombie reached for them. I smacked that zombie on the head, kind of avenging the mom.
Not what my parents named me, but it’ll do.
Anyway, this particular Tuesday I find myself protecting two little zombies from a human. I’ve seen these two on my “patrols” (snack runs) and I’ve grown attached to them. Then, this human comes out of nowhere and tries to kill them.
So they respond by trying to eat him. I never said zombies were smart.
The zombie children are easy to keep away by holding up my broom handle so that when they move forward they are blocked by it. The human is the bigger problem. I’m trying to keep him at bay with my hand, but that’s just making him even more hysterical. I’m trying to talk to him, but it’s not working. It’s been about 3 days since I got any flesh and I can’t talk at all. I don’t think “hurrrr, grruh” is very reassuring.
The human fixes his gun on me and I can’t suppress an eye roll. Are these people serious? I consider letting the kids have him, but that’s just mean. I hear the safety click into place and brace for the worst. Two weeks ago it would have ended up this way, but now, I have back-up. The human screams and fires his gun into the air. I look down and see Lucky clamped around his ankle, tail going like a helicopter. I love this dog.
Honestly, I don’t know how to diffuse this situation without knocking out someone. Is this what we’ve come to, in the zombocalyspe? No room for a human and a zombie to sit down and have a heart to heart? I figure knocking out the human will be a lot easier than the zombies. I let go of the human to put all my weight behind the broom handle and give the kids a good shove. They fall back like something out of a three stooges movie, landing on top of each other. They’re still moving, ish. Looks like I’m not the only one with balance issues. I swing my now free broom handle at the human and nail him right in the side of the head, above the ear. He doesn’t go down as easily. I hear a crunch as his weight lands badly on his ankle on the way down. Lucky jumps out of the way and runs behind me. That’s what you get for improper gun safety, pal.
The zombie kids are going to be like that for a while, so I move to grab the people. I pick up his gun and tuck it into the back pocket of my jeans. I move to lift him onto my shoulder when I hear another gun shot. Lucky catapults into the side of my foot and I fall over. He barks and barks. Yeah, I get it little buddy. Shut up for five minutes.
Can’t humans do anything by themselves? I mean, really? You morons can’t walk down the streets without help, can you? Looks like my would-be assassin has a friend. An angry friend. He yells “Get away from him!” I gesture at the zombie kids with exasperation, who are just starting to get up. He doesn’t even look. Well. Gotta give him something for loyalty.
I drop the guy and back up, hands above my head, broom handle awkwardly bumping my left ear. This crazy dude isn’t worth getting shot. The other guy smiles at me. I smile back. Hey, let’s be friends. However, I forget that when I smile I look like I’m debating whether I want barbecue sauce or ketchup with my human. The guy points the gun at me. I start to drop, getting ready to run like hell. Lucky keeps barking at him and I wave at him to stop. If I’m going down, I’m not taking Lucky with me.
I hear footsteps. Great, more humans. The zombie kids are almost up, at least SOMEONE is going to be happy about this. The human gets ready to shoot and I get ready to bolt. I pick up Lucky and close my eyes, ready to bolt. I make it about two feet when I realize that he’s not shooting.
I turn around and see the other human on the ground. Someone is standing over him, holding a metal thermos. He looks up at me and I see bloodshot, yellowed eyes and receded lips. The stranger is dressed in all black, wearing a leather jacket and giant leather boots. There’s a cut on his forehead that’s turned green and swollen. His long hair, which looks like it’s recovering from a bad dye job, blows behind him.
Remember what I said before? Definitely in the matrix.