Punk Losers vs The Living Dead

A Screaming Good Time

Tonight, Richie decided, had turned into complete shit. His fingers found their way to his head while walking away from Eddie, grazing the stupid hat he still had on his head from earlier. He whipped it off in one smooth motion, tossing it at his friend before taking off after Bev.

"Hey, pretty lady!"

He called once he got close enough that she would hear him. Beverly turned around.

"Rich, what's up?"

"I realised how irresponsible it was to let you walk in this creepy part of town by yourself at night. Thought I'd keep ya company."

"But-"

"I know, I know, I'll scare the boss. Don't worry. I'll wait outside."

"How're you and Eddie?"

"Bad. And getting worse every time one of us opens our mouths."

"You should rephrase that.." She teased.

Bev slung a leather clad arm over her friend as they walked. She could see the medical supply warehouse a few miles ahead of them. It was pitch black. No lights peering through the industrial windows. She thought it strange but knew for sure Ben said he'd be off by 7.

...

Frank had arrived in ten minutes, but to Ben it felt more like ten years. That thing in cold storage didn't stop howling the entire time. Not even to take a break for air. Probably one of the pros to being a member of the living dead, he reasoned. Though the rest of it seemed like a raw deal.

Frank was a tall man with dark slicked back hair and scruff covering his square jaw. His stature along with his strong voice made him the kind of guy you listened to. Burt had just finished explaining everything that had happened and Ben did not like the way Franks meaty fists were clenching.

"You did what? Why the hell would you open it?"

The thing was still shrieking and banging on the walls. Out of desperation, Burt had closed the door to the office but unfortunately the thing's voice permeated the small room. Frank had come in fresh, not having witnessed the half dogs or having to listen to the howling of the cadaver for more than a few minutes. He had to have some sort of rational solution.
Surely.

"What do we do, Frank?" Burt asked, hands outstretched in utter failure. His skin was beginning to look like wax under the fluorescent lights.

"Do? Do? I'll tell ya what we're gonna do. We're going to be sued by the Darrow Chemical Plant," As he spoke Ben could see the reality of the situation clicking in his Boss' mind, "and investigated by the government, and become very very famous. Probably loose all our business and go to prison. That's what we're gonna do, Burt!"

Frank began to pace while Burt seemed to be praying to some god. Ben's head was totally fucked now. Maybe it was the stress of it all but he was fairly certain it was the trioxin. He could feel the pressure from his brain behind his eyelids. Pulsing and beating against his skull. Every time that thing shrieked Frank would flinch, instinctively, before returning to his march.

"Can't we destroy it?"

Ben asked lamely. Still Frank jumped on the idea, snapping his fingers.

"That's it! If we don't want those things to happen we need to destroy the evidence. And never speak of tonight, again."

"But, how?"

"In the movies, they just have to stab it or shoot it in the head. Destroy the brain."

Ben answered almost on autopilot. That was the easiest question in the book. Richie and Bev made him watch the movies over and over. He knew everything there was to know about the undead.

"That's right, son. Good thinking."

And Frank was off to the file cabinet on the other side of the room. He pulled out everything in the drawer looking for something that can crack a skull. His suede shoes are covered in old paperwork by the time he's done through every drawer in the room but the only thing he could find that was remotely close to a weapon was a staple gun. He didn't much like his odds with that.

"The utility closet. There's an axe in there for fires."

They stood in front of the cold storage door watching as it quaked before them. Burt had the axe resting on his shoulder.

"Ok," Frank began, "the plan is simple. Ben, when I count to three you open the door. Burt, when it comes out you brain it with the axe. Understand?"

The two employees nodded. Even with the adrenaline he was sure was pumping through his veins, Ben found it hard to stay upright. Still he went to the door ignoring the sweat dripping off his brow.

"Ready?"

Burt shifted his weight from one foot to the other while hefting the axe. He gave a conservative nod.

"One."

Ben felt his heart sink into his stomach.

"Two."

His sweaty hands gripped the thick steel nob.

"Three!"

The door swung open. The cadaver came running out. Still screeching. It was hairless. Completely hairless. Not even eyelashes. And it's skin had a grey rubbery look. It moved like lightening, from the doorway right into Franks arms in a blink of Ben's eye.

Burt was frozen, axe midway in the air. It knocked Frank onto the ground, teeth finding their way to Frank's arm.

"The fucker bit me!"

Burt and Ben are quick to come to Frank's rescue. They pry the thing off of him and with both their force manage to pin him to the cold concrete floor. It snapped and snarled desperately.

"Keep it still!"

Frank grabbed the axe then, placing it to the cadavers fidgeting head. With a slow breath he raised the tool and bringing it down hard on the things skull. A sickening crack rang through the air. But it wasn't quite as sickening as the fact that the cadaver was still moving, still fucking screaming.

"Fuck."

"It's still alive!"

"What now?"

"Just hold it there."

Frank ran back to the office, but returned quickly with a bone saw.

"Let's try this number!"

He began to saw through the thing's broad neck.
Once he hit the vocal cords the screaming was replaced by gurgling and then finally silence. The body was still moving. Frank took this new development in stride, beginning to saw the creature into small manageable bits. Although, Ben was relieved that the cadaver could no longer shriek he was more than a little pissed the noise was replaced by Burt's incessant Hail Mary prayers.

"What now?"