Stella the Zombie Killer

Stella the Zombie Killer Part 22

Passing the aftershave bottle back and forth beneath his nose, Ben inhaled deeply. His breathing was heavy and fast, the bottle moving quickly, a small splash of the fluid visible in the flesh between thumb and forefinger. He stared at the living angel as he cleared the zombies with passes of his laser. Held casually at chest height, the camera recorded it all but Ben needed to witness this with his own eyes as heads were sliced over and over again. Flicking his eyes back to the white-armoured figure, he saw an angel of death, a grim reaper taking its harvest. Suddenly angel stopped, bent low and rose again, a huge staff in his hands and began stabbing At the zombies' heads, dropping them more slowly but just as efficiently

Ben needed to see more. Needed to see suffering. He lifted camera high and used the zoom function to glide the image past the angel and through the shattered doorway to the people beyond. Tash and two other men were moving to help pile the zombies.

Where was she?

There!

The Killer. Her face was wet with tears as she bent over the big man. The bitten. Ben's breathing quickened again. He had seen him fall, seen the zombies crash onto him, bite him. The turn. It could be quick. Ben enjoyed the turn. He looked down at the body of Craig beneath his boots. As he looked back to the museum, the Killer reached for something, Ben couldn't tell what, and held it behind the man's head. Ben held the camera as still as he could, waiting for the whatever-it-was to plunge into the skull. It didn't happen. The Killer bent to the bitten, kissed him. Ben watched, his lip curling in distaste as the killer walked away, grabbed the younger of the two men's shoulders and spoke to him, wiping at her eyes the whole time.

Ben spoke silently to himself, his voice a whispered whistle in the neck of the aftershave bottle. 'If you leak, you're weak,' he said silently to himself. 'Your eyes leak, Killer. I know that you're weak. I'm coming to get you, Killer. Not today. You're weak today. But maybe tomorrow.'

He licked his lips and held the camera steady.

***

'Now?' said Jared to Stella. Over his shoulder, Vine continued to hack and haul at the deads. 'Right now?' The sound of the bone hitting deads' heads and their bodies being dragged onto the fleshy wall punctuated their conversation. 'Shouldn't we wait till he's dead?'

'He's suffering,' said Stella, wiping her eyes for the tenth time in the half-minute they had talked.

Jared shook his head. 'I'm sorry, Stella, but I won't kill anyone. I'm not starting that. We wait till he turns. Otherwise it's just...' he trailed off, leaving the word unsaid.

'How did you survive out there, Jared?' Stella was suddenly aggressive, leaning at the captain.

He backed away from her, instinctively feeling for his jaw, still sore a week after her wake-up punch. 'By not killing,' he said to her. 'By staying human when everyone else was turning savage. I saw them, Stella. The killers. They weren't living. They weren't even surviving. I always swore I wouldn't be a killer.'

'You're army.' Stella said it flatly as if it were illogical to make any kind of moral protest.

'That's different. That's war.'

'This is war!'

'No it's not. This is survival. This is what's left. I won't make it a battle ground.' He stood firm, facing her with grim determination.

Stella could see the nervousness in him but knew he wouldn't change his mind. In that moment she hated him for it. 'The only thing you're making is a fight with Hook when he gets up and tries to eat us. This is the way it is now, Captain.'