“Yo, you stay here while I go in.” Mario said to Zoe in the driver’s seat.
“Why do I have to stay in the car all the time? This is getting old. It’s my best friend they got in there, I have as much stake in this or more than any of you.”
“Hey calm down chica, I get that you wanna help and that’s cool. But you don’t understand this side of town. This is all chicano here and my brother and his friends are all with the Mexican Mafia, they don’t like outsiders, especially gringos.”
Zoe rolled her eyes and sighed. She made a motion with her hand like an imperial wave to dismiss the young man.
“Hey at least this time you got Ian to keep you company, not that he’s very good company.”
“Haha motherfucker, just hurry up.” Ian responded.
Mario threw open the door and looked both ways down the street. He crossed the road from where the Cadillac was parked on the curb and entered a rundown apartment tenement. Mario raced up two flights of stairs and then headed down a hallway, stepping over a pair of passed out drunks as he went. When he came to apartment twenty-four, he stopped and knocked. There was a shuffling noise from the other side of the door as someone no doubt came to gaze out the peek hole.
“Who are you?” Demanded a gruff male voice with a heavy chicano accent.
Mario was always cool under any circumstances and didn’t flinch.
“Yo, it’s Mario Nunez. Where’s my brother Ramon?”
“Ramon?”
The door opened and a sketchy brown skinned man wearing a bandana and a tank top with khaki pants peered outside at the younger man. He smiled as though he were gazing upon a long-lost friend.
“Hey yo, are you really Ramon’s little brother? I heard about that black drug dealer you stomped out on the curb and ran out of town. Yeah, your brother’s been trying to get you a spot man.”
“No, that’s Carlos. I’m the youngest brother.”
“Oh. Well, it’s still good to meet you little man.” The gangster did a one-armed hug which Mario quickly stepped away from after barely a second.
“Is he here?”
“Yeah holmes, he’s in there, but he’s kinda occupied y’know?”
“Occupied? What the fuck does that mean?”
“You know, he’s occupied.” The gangster reminded Mario of Cheech Marin the more he spoke as he leaned in with a laugh. “With a white girl named Wanda.”
Mario’s face scrunched up like he just caught whiff of a bad egg and he shook his head slightly.
“Look I don’t care if that fool is occupied with Cindy Crawford. Go get his ass out here.”
The gangster held his arms up in a placating manner.
“Okay, okay. Hold your horses little dude. I’ll go see if he wants to come out.”
The man disappeared behind the door. Mario stood in the hall impatiently for several moments before he began to snap and slap his hands together a few times. Finally, the door opened and a tall shirtless, muscular Chicano with slicked black hair and one single strand perfectly dangling over his eyebrow stood before him.
“Mario what’s the deal? I’m busy here.”
“Need your help Scarface…” Mario jokingly referred to his older brother as the titular character from his favorite movie. His brother probably had watched it a hundred times and did everything he could to study and mimic the characters’ mannerisms. “…Carlos is in trouble.”
“Whoa, slow down, what do you mean Carlos is in trouble?”
“It’s a long story, but these fuckin’ stupid ass Jamaicans got him. They’re in the old abandoned middle school in Southshore.”
“Jamaicans? You mean the One Order Posse? The one that just came into town a few months ago and been killing everyone all across town?”
“Yeah. Fuckin’ Jamaicans.” Mario repeated blankly. “They’re into some evil voodoo shit. They got monsters and shit, let’s go.”
“Look Mario, these guys are dangerous. They’ve started a war with the Italians, the Vice Lords, Gangster Disciples, Latin Kings, everybody.”
“What about the Mexican Mafia, are you telling me you’re scared of these fools?”
“No of course not! But we have to be cautious with these guys.”
“Well you be cautious fool. I’m going to get Carlos back.” Mario turned and angrily began stomping back down the hall.
“Mario!” Ramon called out after his little brother. “Mario, wait!”
But it was no use, Mario was already going back down the stairs. Halfway down the staircase, Mario froze in place for a moment, something like a woman’s scream came drifting up the stairs from the street below. But then a horrible thought came to mind, and he raced the rest of the way down the stairs and out the front door.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Tires screeched on the pavement and Mario saw a black van pull away from the Cadillac parked across the street and sped away down the street. Mario ran over to the car, a feeling of dread rising in his gut. The driver seat was empty, in fact he realized when he got close to the car that the entire car was empty.
* * * *
“Hey fool. Hey wake up.” Carlos whispered to a sleeping Nate.
Nate opened his eyes, and it took a moment for him to realize where he was and what was going on. He tried to move his arms and found that he was shackled with a pair of handcuffs behind his back. Looking around it appeared he was still in the ruins of the old school…in the grimy locker room to be exact. Jermaul was nearby and also awake, handcuffed much as he was. But Carlos was not, he was coming over his direction and when he arrived, he began fiddling with the handcuffs on Nate’s wrists.
“Wait, what’s going on?” Nate asked slowly.
“I had a lockpick. They shoulda known better before trying to handcuff a bunch of thugs like us, eh? Now hold still.”
Nate did just that, and a few moments later he heard the click of the handcuffs coming open, and he could move his arms freely again. Carlos next moved swiftly to Jermaul.
Nate began trying to remember the events of the past few hours. He remembered the powder that the tall man had used against Deacon, remembered seeing his friend fall instantly into a slumber so deep he appeared dead. And then one of the Jamaicans had unlocked the shackles of the shambling workers. The dazed workers had stumbled over, he had fought them alongside Jermaul. They quickly discovered something gruesome about their attackers however, when they did not register any pain, and didn’t slow their advance no matter how hard they were hit. The only logical conclusion, though it seemed wildly impossible, was that those workers were among the ranks of the undead. One of the shambling workers had blown a handful of the powder into their face as well, but he remembered something else before losing consciousness. He remembered seeing Carlos running towards them, with something huge chasing close behind.
“Carlos.” Nate called quietly. He was not sure if anyone was nearby but was sure there were enemies close. “I remember bits and pieces. What the hell was chasing you?”
Carlos finished picking the last lock, and he shook his head solemnly while the cuffs clicked open and fell off Jermaul’s skinny wrists.
“You don’t wanna know. Hell, I don’t even know. It was some kinda giant monster. Like a Frankenstein or something.”
“Come on, I know a place we can hide.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve been here before.” Nate explained. “It was a long time ago when I was like fourteen, I think. Me and some guys I met came here to spray paint dicks on the walls and curse words and shit. It seemed like fun at the time.” He shrugged.
“Dude, you’re a fuckin’ nerd.” Carlos laughed.
“There was this girl there, I was trying to get with her, she was this black-haired little metal chick…man she was awesome. She was wearing a Megadeth t-shirt and we got to talking…she was a big fan. I was in love. I can still remember her headbanging to “In my Darkest Hour”…it was amazing.”
Carlos and Jermaul both looked at each other and broke out into cutting laughter. Nate looked wounded and frowned back.
“Dude, I like, pour my heart out and stuff and you shit on me? Fuck you.”
“Shut your gay ass up.” Jermaul managed to say in between his fit of hysterical laughter.
“Don’t get down, maybe you’ll meet up with your soulmate again…what was her name?”
“Uh…” Nate thought about it, trying to replay the scenario in his drug addled brain.
The three friends spread out and began searching their environment. They tested the perimeters of the room and began looking for potential guards or other threats. Jermaul found a pair of the zombie creatures standing guard in the hallway. Nate found another escape route into the ruined gymnasium and made a hissing noise to draw the others over.
“Is there anything guarding this way?” Jermaul whispered when he arrived.
Nate shrugged. There was a little window that long ago in the past would have looked out into the gym through the door but was now filled with a thick layer of grime and spray paint which barred the view.
“Well, check it out, stupid.” Carlos admonished.
Nate slowly eased the door open. He did not hear any noises, which was a good sign. The hinges creaked loudly so he stopped applying pressure as soon as the door was open enough for him to peek outside. He could see the gym was dark, but there were spears of light shining down from parts of the roof that had caved in. He could not see a complete view, but it seemed empty enough, he slid the rest of the way out the door.
Then Nate was completely taken by surprise. Several pairs of hands grabbed him and pulled him away from the door. A feminine scream escaped his lungs when he saw he was suddenly face to face with several of the zombie creatures.
Jermaul and Carlos exploded from the doorway with none of the stealth that Nate had attempted. They went right to work without delay, shoving the mindless creatures away. Nate snapped out of his temporary stupor and began fighting alongside the other two. He immediately got the feeling of kicking a dead horse, as he remembered doing the exact same thing the night before, and he remembered it being futile. It was impossible to hurt these things that looked like people.
Jermaul was the only one that noticed the real human among them, standing behind like an animal handler. He shoved his way past the zombies and tackled the Jamaican gang member before he got his gun out of a pocket inside his coat. Jermaul managed to get the mounted position of his opponent and began raining punches down until the Jamaican lost consciousness.
Meanwhile, Carlos and Nate had adopted a new strategy against the zombies. After witnessing just how uncoordinated they were, they both realized that punching them did little good, put tripping them and knocking them off their feet was actually quite easy. And once off their feet, they mostly acted like turtles on their backs. Jermaul came back over to join in on the curb stomp that ensued. The three friends stomped on the zombies’ heads repeatedly until they finally stopped moving, some with their heads collapsed gruesomely.
“Fuck man, these my good Nikes!” Jermaul exclaimed in disgust when he looked down and saw the pool of crimson viscera splayed across the gym floor and splattered on his white sneakers.
“Why’d you wear good shoes to this, you moron?” Carlos responded.
“Hey fuck you holmes, I gotta look good at all times.”
Carlos shook his head and Nate began leading the group through the gym to the other side of the school. When he had been there years before, there had been a basement boiler room hidden away, and a drainage pipe that led outside. It wasn’t easily accessible, and he figured that anybody that wasn’t looking for it probably would have overlooked it. The only reason they had found it was because they were told about it by some older kids that were in the area.
“Maggie. Her name was Maggie, I remember now.” Nate blurted out while they took to the hallways.
“Maggie Cromwell?” Carlos asked.
“Yeah, maybe. I don’t remember her last name.”
“There’s this little heavy metal chick that works at the record shop in Boystown. Sounds like the same girl.”
“I think she prefers black dudes.” Jermaul laughed. “Or at least she will if I get to her first.”
“Shut up. If that’s true I’m gonna go by there and look her up.”
The group saw another patrol of zombies and gang members they had to duck away from, but eventually found the access point to get to the basement. It was just in time because they could hear yelling echoing through the empty abandoned building that sounded like they had just discovered the group had escaped.