The zombie game

Chapter 10

When Joe awoke he was lying on the hard cement ground, bound and gagged. The alloy wire that he was bound with cut into his wrists, blood trickling down his arm and dripping to the floor. Ken was nowhere to be seen. A shuffling of footsteps interrupted his thoughts and a man stepped into the room; it was a man with long, rocker hair, and ripped and torn shirt that was smeared with both dirt and blood. The man had a serrated knife hanging around his waist and a hunting rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Well, well well what have we here?” purred the man.

“Where is Ken?” Joe asked, snarling.

“Oh that is his name is it? Well he is with us in the back room. If you ask me he is just fine,” said the man, smiling. “But you won't get him back any time soon.”

“What the hell are you doing?” snarled Joe.

“Well, we caught you spying alright? Wanna know what we are gonna do? We are gonna go to every lengths to make you talk. And if you don't, I'll personally slit your fucking throat. I guarantee it. The name is Marks by the way.” He took out his blade and placed the sharp edge of it against Joe's throat, laughing ever so slightly at the possibly of Joe's warm blood washing over his right hand. Joe watched in fear, his eyes going wide, as he just lie there, listening to this man's babbling, unable to do a single thing. Marks crouched right beside Joe.

“Now why were you watch us?” he sneered.

“Because,” replied Joe, “this was supposed to be where me and Ken were going to stay for awhile. To recuperate before going back on the road again.”

“This was really our place though,” said Marks, “a place that you shouldn't have found—a place that is filled with dark secrets.” His face was right at Joes, and Joe smelled the rotting stench of alcohol, and was that human flesh? “Now because of your damn curiosity, you will most likely die. I can guarantee you won't make it out alive. We will kill you. And then we will eat you.” Marks smiled at this and slowly stood up, sheathing his knife, and pulling out his rifle. A foot swung forward and Joe was kicked in the face, blood trickling down his mouth and dripping to the floor. Marks aimed the butt of the rifle down and hit Joe in the side of the head, causing him to roll over. His vision was becoming more and more blurry and he could no longer see, much less comprehend what had just happened to him. He could feel a warm substance trickling down his head. Blood.

Marks turned around and walked back into the other room, presumably checking on Ken, making sure he was alright, before torturing him.

…............

A scream erupted from the room. Ken was sitting in a chair, bound. Marks was standing over him, slamming him in the face with his fist. Ken had made a couple of smart ass remarks that Marks hadn't taken kindly too, so he began beating Ken, causing him to become groggy, his memory translucent, and his mind opaque.

“Say that to me again!” shouted Marks. He smashed Ken in the face with the barrel of the gun, the cold metal cracking skin. Blood flowed down his face. At the moment, he could no longer utter any sort of words. “That's what I thought.” Marks turned his head away for a few moments, before turning back around and eying Ken.

“What do you want with me?” asked Ken, spitting up blood.

“Oh nothing really. We just thought we'd take you, because after all, you were spying on us when we were talking.”

“That was a mistake though—we didn't know someone was going to be coming here,” muttered Ken.

“Well now you do know and it was a big fucking mistake if you ask me,” Marks spat. “I thought you'd wanna live another day in this new world. A world where survival is the only option.”