Neighborhood Watch (6 page)

Out of the corner of my eye, Mitch was slowly raising the shotgun.

Did the creature even see us? It looked different, slightly smashed—an apparent aftermath of its run-ins with the cars.

“Do it,” I said in a forceful whisper. “Do it...”

Schklikt, klikt

“Shoot it...”

The creature's eyes sprung on us and blew bright. Its muscles tensed. Its claws skittered.

“Shoot it!”

The blast rang out like an explosion in a cave. I hurled myself back, just as the super zombie fell back the opposite way. In a moment, Mitch was firing again, screaming his head off like a mad man, cocking and firing, cocking and firing, cocking and firing. “This is for Sam, you son of a bitch!” He fired again as the creature writhed and howled against the floor. “This is for Miss Lenner, you fuckin shit!” The blast resounded again, spraying black chunks into the air.

“This is for everyone in Dansbury, you sick, ugly, son of a bi—

The gun flew free as the creature swiped it from my brother's hands. And then Mitch went flying like a streak, against the wall with a
crack
before sliding down to a slump.

The creature returned to its feet, wounded but functioning. I could see the gaping holes in its torso and midsection, the back ooze gushing out like a waterfall. It cocked its head, blinking those frantic yellow eyes. Its cratered jaws churned with a new-found fervor. 

I jumped to the right, over the couch and onto the floor. The shotgun was in my hands and before I knew what I was doing, I cocked it.
Schklikt, klikt

I stared at it.
It
stared at me.

I fired. I fired again.

The razor claws whipped by my face and I jerked. I tumbled over a table, spilling onto the floor, catching myself with my hand in a book. The shotgun fell to my side as the creature swiped again at my face. But it was slower. I rolled, dodging the now flooding black liquid.

It howled.

I stood there, catching my breath, the shotgun lying just feet away. The creature's yellow eyes were dazed and it appeared to be blinking, long, exaggerated blinks as it swayed from side to side. The black fluid was now pouring out of it.

I moved slowly to the shotgun; the creature stumbled back, audibly wheezing.

I picked up the gun and aimed.

Sam's words came back to me in a storm.
“You have to completely sever the brain stem to kill them...”

So I pulled the trigger. As I had seen my brother do so many times before, I pulled the trigger. The blast was resounding, and perfect. The  creature's strangulated cry broke free as its skull broke clean. A moment later, the headless body fell sideways, black fluid bubbling from the severance point like lava from a volcano.

As I stared into those glazed yellow eyes, I knew. I had killed Mr. Clark. There could have been more like him out there, more zombies still roaming in the floodwater of my community. They might have reached downtown by now for all I knew.

But I was confident—I had cut off the head of the beast.
I
had done it. Me. Skinny, scrawny, quiet, little ol' me. Part of me felt like a hero, as if I had somehow saved the day and the world from an impending apocalypse. But the overwhelming part of me, the practical part, was unconvinced.

“It's done,” I said, as I turned around. “We did it, Mitch.

“Mitch?”

As I looked into the corner, beneath the articles of Marissa Clark, Miss. Lenner's son, and all the others, something hit me. This time, it wasn't a strong smell, or the powerful  attack of a super zombie. It wasn't a physical force at all.

It was a noise, a low, agitated noise. The first thing I could think of was a dog. It had the same kind of growl, and was growing louder. Somewhere, closer;
nearby
.

And that's when I jerked. My body knew before my mind, and as I gazed into the feverish eyes of the teenager, my heart nearly stopped. There he stood, in the corner. He was shaking like he had a real bad flu and the liquid was all over him. An almost black-purple.

His eyes were already spotted.

I stared to the shotgun in my hands, the realization washing over me. My heart became tight; cold. My muscles clenched. Somewhere, the voice in my head was speaking, a soft but knowing whisper. But it didn't matter, because I already knew.

“Everything's going to be okay,” I said.

Schklikt, klikt
“Everything will be okay, big brother.”

###

Thank you for reading “
Neighborhood Watch
,” the first installment in the
Dark Friday
series. If you enjoyed this book, please stay tuned for the next release in the series, coming soon. And if you'd like to sign up to receive updates about my new releases, you can do so below:

As always, thank you for reading!

Your reviews and comments are always appreciated!

-
Evan Bollinger