Dismemberment - Book One: The World We Once Knew

Chapter 4: What You Make of It

"God damn it..." a man muttered as he was looking under the hood of a pickup truck. "Floyd! What in the hell did you do to my truck?" The man yelled to the tall, slim man in the passenger seat of his truck. "Aw, geez Earl. I saw that you were low on oil, so I poured more in." Floyd said, handing Earl an empty bottle. "Floyd... this is vegetable oil..." Earl told him, trying to contain his inner rage. "You ruined my truck, you retard!"
Floyd opened the passenger side door of the truck and grabbed his shotgun, before stepping out of the now useless vehicle. "I'm sorry Earl, but once we get to the school, we won't need the truck no more. We'll have a bus that we can turn into a rolling fortress," he said, loading his shotgun. Earl grabbed a hunting rifle and a mining pick from the bed of his truck. "Well yeah, but now we have to walk the remaining three miles. Out in the open. With zeds on our tail." Earl told him. Floyd shrugged in indifference. "We can handle 'em, Earl. Don't you worry none. Do we have any beer left?" he asked. Earl shook his head from side to side. "No, but there is a liquor store not too far from here. We can see if there's anything left there. I doubt that there is, since the riots happened. Let's get walkin'."
The two redneck men walked down the road, weapons in hand. Floyd was the taller and skinnier one. He wore a Budweiser baseball cap and a red gingham shirt with a denim vest. His jeans were tucked into his work boots, which were stained with zombie blood. Floyd was a good shot with his gun, but unfortunately was not very bright. Earl was shorter, stronger, and heavier than Floyd. He wore a Nascar baseball cap with a Lynyrd Skynyrd tee shirt and jeans, along with work boots that looked similar to Floyd's. Earl had a full beard, while Floyd's face was shaved.
After thirty minutes of walking, the two hillbillies finally reached Slim Willie's Liquor Emporium. They stood in the empty parking lot and looked over the horizon. "Hey, Earl. I can see Northwood from here. That's where Reagan High is, right?" Floyd asked his friend. "You're damn right it is. It might take a while to get there, since we have to walk because of your dumb ass. Now let's get whatever is left from this store." Earl told him.
Earl stood back while Floyd kicked in the locked door of the liquor store. When they entered, they found the electricity was off, leaving the entire building dark. Earl pulled out his lighter and flicked it on. "Can't see shit in here..." he mumbled to himself. As the two men looked around, they concluded that Earl's suspicions were correct. The shelves were pretty much empty, save for a few half-empty bottles of tequila. They picked up what they could carry, and put each bottle into plastic bags. As they turned the corner into the freezer aisle, they found six zombies shuffling about. "Oh, shit! We got zeds, Floyd!" Earl exclaimed before readying his gun. Floyd switched the safety off of his rifle, before firing at the zombies. Earl did the same.
Upon killing the last zed, the two men realized that they were now on a time limit. "It won't be too long before they come down on this place now. That noise is gonna attract every zed within a two mile radius. Let's grab the last of what we need and get the hell out of here!" Earl told his friend. The two went down each aisle, rushing to grab whatever bottles of alcohol still remained. When they finished looting the store, they looked to the front entrance to find a horde of zombies blocking the way. " Oh, God! What now, Earl?" Floyd asked Earl in desperation. At that moment, Earl had an idea. "Quick, hand me one of the bottles of tequila." Earl commanded. Floyd gave Earl a half-empty bottle of alcohol, which he splashed on the zombies, before pouring the rest of the drink out on the floor. Next, he pulled out a rag and his lighter. "Get ready to run out the back, Floyd." Earl said, before lighting the rag on fire and dropping it on the pool of tequila on the ground. The alcohol ignited into flames, creating a wall of fire between the zombies and the rednecks. Floyd and Earl then made a beeline for the emergency exit. Opening that door triggered the fire alarm, increasing the amount of noise that would attract the zombies.
The two men exited the building and were now in the back of it with the dumpsters. Floyd looked to the right to see zombies rounding the corner of the building. "What're we gonna do now, Earl? They're gonna kill us!" Floyd yelled out. Earl pointed left towards the town. "The plan hasn't changed, dumbass. We're goin' to Northwood. Now haul ass!" Earl replied. The two men ran from the now burning building with an active fire alarm. The alarm made a piercingly loud noise, which drew more zombies to the area. The two men shot at the undead horde as they ran, killing any threat that stood in their way. Eventually, they gained distance from the zombies, and could stop to relax.
"Well, shit," Floyd said. "Now that's just gonna make things harder." Earl cracked open a beer can and handed it to Floyd. "How so?" he asked Floyd. Floyd took the beer can and sipped from it. "Well, you see, when that alarm stops ringing, the horde is gonna have a mob mentality to them. They'll follow us to Northwood and infest that town, more than it already is." Earl sat down on a fallen tree and sat his beer on the ground. "You may have a point there, Floyd. That means there's no time to waste. After we finish our beers, we gotta get movin'." Earl told him. The two men proceeded to finish their beers, toss the cans in the woods, and load their guns with more ammunition. With their firearms loaded, they set off for Northwood.
Two hours later, the men stopped at the entrance of the town and gazed at the setting sun before them. "Alright, Floyd." Earl said, throwing a beer can on the ground. "We're almost there." Floyd looked around at the devastated town. Storefront windows were smashed out, cars were flipped and set on fire. Dead bodies littered the street. "Damn, Earl. The riots must've been pretty bad if this was the result of it." Floyd said. As the two men walked the abandoned streets, they heard a groaning noise from behind them.
When they turned around, they found that the dead bodies on the street were crawling toward them. Earl readied his pickaxe . "Remember, Floyd. We don't want them zeds finding us. Shut up and save your ammo for when you need it." Floyd looked at the pickaxe in Earl's hands. "But Earl, I don't have anything to hit 'em with," he said. Earl rolled his eyes. "They're on the ground, Floyd. Stomp 'em," he commanded.
The two men proceeded to cave in the skulls of every zombie that was on the ground. Earl beat their heads in with his pickaxe while Floyd stomped on their heads with his steel-toed work boots. By the time they finished, they were covered in blood and had a large pile of dead zombies in the middle of the street. As Earl caught his breath, he poured a bottle of alcohol on the pile. "Let's light this sumbitch up like the fourth of July, Floyd!" Earl yelled out in excitement. Floyd ignited the alcohol and stepped back to watch the show. In the span of a few seconds, the pile of zombies burst into flames. Floyd tapped Earl on the shoulder. "We should get outta here. Zeds will be here soon."
Earl and Floyd walked down the street and out of the main part of town. "So, Earl. Can you remind me of what the plan is after we get the bus?" Floyd asked him. "Sure," Earl replied. "Once we get the bus, we run over as many of those undead sumbitches as we can, before picking up my wife and kids, a few of our friends, and getting the hell out of here. Maybe after that, we can try to find a boat and live out on the water or some shit like that."
When Earl finished talking, he noticed that it was almost pitch black out. "Well, this ain't no good," Floyd said. Earl pointed at an abandoned bar at the side of the road. "Let's hide up in there for the night. We'll get the bus tomorrow," he told Floyd. The two men approached the door and twisted the handle, to find it locked. "Shit..." Earl said under his breath. He turned around to see that a horde of undead were creeping slowly towards him. "Floyd, shoot 'em while I get this fucker open!" Earl commanded. Floyd readied his gun and fired into the crowd. For every zombie he shot, it seemed to him that two more took its place. Earl tried picking the lock unsuccessfully. "Fuck it!" he yelled, kicking the door. After his second kick, the door's lock broke and the door opened. The two men ran inside the building and slammed the door shut so no zombies could get in. "Floyd! Get something to keep this door shut," Earl told him. Floyd ran from the door while Earl held it shut. Floyd studied his surroundings, looking for something to block the doorway. His eyes met a large metal keg. Floyd decided to use this to block the door. Floyd slowly pushed the keg towards the door. When he got it close enough, Earl moved from the door to help Floyd move the keg in front of the door. Now that the heavy keg was blocking the doorway, the two men sighed in relief. They knew that nothing was getting in or out.
The two men pulled up some barstools and surveyed the area. They saw the Irish flag mounted on the wall behind the bar, and above it was a broadsword. To the left was the taps, which had twelve different choices of beer to choose from. Next to the taps was a broken jukebox and a yellow rubber ashtray.
Floyd reached up and picked the sword off of the wall. "Looks like I got a new weapon, Earl," he said, swinging the sword around. Earl set his backpack on the floor. "We can stay here for the night. We'll leave for the school in the morning," he said, lying on the floor. "You sleep in that booth." Earl pointed towards the other side of the bar, where the booths were.
Floyd set his rifle and sword on the bar next to Earl's belongings, before walking over to the booth and laying down on the cushioned seat. Earl closed his eyes and tried to sleep. The whole bar was silent, with the undead horde banging on the barricaded door being the exception. "Hey, Earl?" Floyd whispered. Earl opened his eyes and rolled over to face Floyd's direction. "What is it?" Earl asked. Floyd sat up and looked at Earl. "You think your wife and kids are okay right now?" Floyd inquired quietly. Earl scratched his back. "Darlene can handle herself just fine. She'll protect little Danny and Marie. At least, I hope so. Once we get that bus, we won't have to worry 'bout that no more. We'll all be safe," Earl assured him. "Now go to sleep already," Earl commanded him. Floyd nodded, rolled over in his booth, and drifted off to sleep.