Six Geese-a-layin’ – (day 6)

by

Jack Roth           

 Six geese-a-layin’…

            That’s what we called the first batch of them.  Mindless fuckers walking the streets.  Staggering like two in the morning drunks looking for a cheap fuck or a fight.  And that’s what we thought they were at first, just drunks.  But trust me, they weren’t looking for fucking, they were looking for flesh.  Human flesh.  Fresh flesh.  And they weren’t afraid to try and get it.

            My buddy Jackson and I were sitting on a stonewall, just bullshitting.  Actually, we were watching the girls walk by; there was the one chick who went by everyday at three and I swear on my life, her shirts got tighter each day.

            It was kind of a quiet day, nice early summer day and all.  Then we heard a scream.  We looked and there was a woman stumbling down the street.  Missing a shoe, hair all messed up…

            “Hooker,” Jackson said laughing.

            I agreed.  I figured maybe her John wanted to do something frisky and a little strange.  Back door tactics, who knows.

            The woman was waving her arms and screaming, “They’re coming!  They’re coming!”

            Jackson and I laughed.

            Coming.

            Then behind the woman came six men, looking just as rough as she did.  The drunks.  Or so we thought.  Their limbs looked loose, their heads bobbing like they had no real neck.  And they were dead set on getting to this woman.

            “Maybe she overcharged,” I said.

            “Maybe she dried up,” Jackson said.

            We shared a good laugh – our last laugh actually now that I think about it.

            That was when Jackson started whistling the Twelve Days of Christmas song.

            The woman ended up falling to her knees because she was so wobbly with one high heel on.  I don’t know why she didn’t just take the damn thing off, but that was it for her.  The six men swarmed her.  That’s when Jackson and I both jumped from the stonewall and went to help her.

            The men looked mean… and dead.

            “What the fuck is this,” Jackson yelled.

            “Get them,” I said.

            One of the men dug his hand into the woman’s neck.  Not choking, no way.  He clawed her neck and actually ripped it open.  That’s when I stopped walking.  I’d never seen anything like that.  And before I could blink, all six had their hands on the woman, tearing her skin off.  They then dropped to their knees and began to chew on her – actually fucking eating her.  They were growling too, like when a dog is chewing on a rawhide and you get to close to them.

            Jackson, bless his dumb soul, kept going.  He jumped on one of their backs and fought.  The man twisted and turned and howled.  Jackson had a good hold on him, shit, if the man was actually a man and alive, he would have died.  There was no way a choke hold like Jackson had wouldn’t have worked.  Except this guy wasn’t alive.  He was dead.  The howling attracted the attention of the other men and they took a break from the woman… she was already dead.  With blood soaked on their faces and a few of them with dangling skin and muscle from their teeth, they attacked Jackson.

            I couldn’t help… even if I tried.

            I couldn’t watch it either.

            I told Jackson I loved him – as a guy, you know, not the other way.

            Then I ran.

            When I got to the police station, it was chaos.  People were swarming it, hundred of people in the streets all screaming and crying.  I asked what was happening and a woman turned to me.  She had blood smeared on her face and she was shaking. 

            “The dead are walking,” she whispered.  Then she took a small handgun from her purse and shot herself in the throat.

            People came rushing towards her only they didn’t care about her – they wanted the gun…

            Thankfully it’s quieter now but that’s only because of how many people are dead.  As for me, I wander like before only I keep eyes open for zombies instead of boobs and tight asses.  But I do miss Jackson – he and I would have made a hell of a zombie killing team.  I try not to think about him too much because it hurts, but what I do I find myself humming…

            “Six geese-a-layin’…”

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9 Responses to “Six Geese-a-layin’ – (day 6)”

  1. David G Shrock

    Zombies always seem to have a knack for souring a party. Grab a gun and start a new bash.

  2. ganymeder

    I liked the whole conversational tone of the story, like telling a friend your troubles. Nicely done.

  3. Icy Sedgwick

    Zombies at Christmas…that’s got to ruin any party!

  4. Patti Larsen

    LOVE zombie stories… 🙂 Poor Jackson…

  5. Cecilia Dominic

    I like how the narrator deliberately missed all the clues because he didn’t want to see them. It’s so much more fun to check out girls and all. I bet he and Jackson would’ve made a great team, but it sets him up well for seeking vengeance.

    CD

  6. Tony Noland

    Gives a new twist to getting laid, though. Nice zombie work.

  7. Chuck Allen

    I enjoyed the narrator. He seems like such a matter-of-fact guy. I’m sure I’d hang around to listen to his other adventures he’s encountered since the zombies arrived. 🙂

  8. Jim Bronyaur

    Oh Jack… zombies. You’re a sick man, man. Glad to see you writing again.

  9. Eric J. Krause

    Vicious, vicious story! That gun might have been the way to go, but the zombie hunting certainly would be more fun to read about.

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