scrunched in disdain.
“I’ll give him a couple of things to scream about,” Gus vowed, brandishing the chainsaw in one hand and pointing at the dead man nearby. “That’s one.”
“That’s one,” Talbert agreed.
“Feel like gettin’ the others?”
“Oh, fuck, yeah.”
“Watch my back, then,” Gus ordered and went to the wide stairs and the first barrier there.
He placed his bat to one side and powered up the chainsaw, thumbing the start button.
“Startin’ to think,” Gus said as he braced his legs on the stairs, “that cutting through these barriers is a good thing. Why should we have all the fun?”
Talbert’s face lightened with comprehension, but before the buzzing saw snarled into wood, he pointed to the second level and a crowd gathering around the railing. A knot of zombies descended the steps, only to be stopped by the wooden barricade.
Gus saw them all and powered down the chainsaw.
“Well, shit.”
Zombies pushed against the upstairs rail. Several toppled over and fell to the marble floor with a sludgy clap , like sacks of wet cement bursting at rotten seams. All manner of organic muck squirted from the corpses upon impact, a viscous soup reeking of spoiled meat. A pool slowly formed, spreading outward with every new diver splattering upon the fine marble. Some crashed upon the ones actually rising from the expanding mess.
They continued piling against the rails, leaning over until gravity sucked them down.
Gus prodded Talbert in the shoulder, pushing him to the lower steps.
“Get into the open,” he said, “let ’em see you.”
“What?”
“Just a few seconds, anyway. They’re thinning themselves out.”
Upon the rotunda’s floor, bodies pushed through that foul stew like half-frozen tadpoles. Some of the dead sat up straight in the deepening pond of bodies, ignoring broken bones, only to have new corpses flatten them from above. Talbert descended and split the skull of one uniformed serviceman, halting its creeping progress. He placed his boot heel against its shoulder and wrenched the machete free. A hand reached out from the sloppy pileup of corpses, trying for an ankle. Talbert hacked the hand off, blade ringing off the floor.
The dead wailed at the living. Their voices carried to the upper dome, making it known through the house that fresh meat had been found.
Gus dropped the chainsaw, took up his bat, and joined Talbert. He bashed limbs and heads as if he were flattening wheat beside a pond of industrial filth. One zombie, a white-dressed maid with the front saturated in gore, actually climbed to her feet and walked toward them both, lipless jaws chattering. Gus smoked her across the face, and her remaining features disintegrated in a chunky burst.
But she didn’t drop. Despite having her entire sinus cavity laid bare and displaying squashed organic tissue Gus had no clue of, she walked on, arms raised, dainty hands ending in peeled fingers.
Gus hesitated at the fright.
Then Talbert’s machete split the deadhead’s noggin to the eyes. “Recognize someone, didja?”
He kicked the corpse off his blade. Gus composed himself as the rain of bodies slowed. At a glance, it appeared most of the dead had fallen in crippled heaps.
He realized then that Mortimer had ceased screaming.
Zombies spilled out of the archways on the ground floor.
“All right,” Gus barked and bounded up the stairs. “Keep them back.”
He left Talbert and switched out his bat for the battery-powered chainsaw. The tool came to life with one jab of its electric start button, and Gus cut wide across the top of the wooden barricade. Chips and dust flew into his face, making him pause to slap his visor into place. Talbert chopped and hacked, slowing the mansion’s residents.
Gus completed the first cut in less than fifteen seconds, pulled the saw free of the thick wood, and finished a pair of downward strokes in an equal amount of time. The chainsaw had surprising power, and Gus
“I’ll give him a couple of things to scream about,” Gus vowed, brandishing the chainsaw in one hand and pointing at the dead man nearby. “That’s one.”
“That’s one,” Talbert agreed.
“Feel like gettin’ the others?”
“Oh, fuck, yeah.”
“Watch my back, then,” Gus ordered and went to the wide stairs and the first barrier there.
He placed his bat to one side and powered up the chainsaw, thumbing the start button.
“Startin’ to think,” Gus said as he braced his legs on the stairs, “that cutting through these barriers is a good thing. Why should we have all the fun?”
Talbert’s face lightened with comprehension, but before the buzzing saw snarled into wood, he pointed to the second level and a crowd gathering around the railing. A knot of zombies descended the steps, only to be stopped by the wooden barricade.
Gus saw them all and powered down the chainsaw.
“Well, shit.”
Zombies pushed against the upstairs rail. Several toppled over and fell to the marble floor with a sludgy clap , like sacks of wet cement bursting at rotten seams. All manner of organic muck squirted from the corpses upon impact, a viscous soup reeking of spoiled meat. A pool slowly formed, spreading outward with every new diver splattering upon the fine marble. Some crashed upon the ones actually rising from the expanding mess.
They continued piling against the rails, leaning over until gravity sucked them down.
Gus prodded Talbert in the shoulder, pushing him to the lower steps.
“Get into the open,” he said, “let ’em see you.”
“What?”
“Just a few seconds, anyway. They’re thinning themselves out.”
Upon the rotunda’s floor, bodies pushed through that foul stew like half-frozen tadpoles. Some of the dead sat up straight in the deepening pond of bodies, ignoring broken bones, only to have new corpses flatten them from above. Talbert descended and split the skull of one uniformed serviceman, halting its creeping progress. He placed his boot heel against its shoulder and wrenched the machete free. A hand reached out from the sloppy pileup of corpses, trying for an ankle. Talbert hacked the hand off, blade ringing off the floor.
The dead wailed at the living. Their voices carried to the upper dome, making it known through the house that fresh meat had been found.
Gus dropped the chainsaw, took up his bat, and joined Talbert. He bashed limbs and heads as if he were flattening wheat beside a pond of industrial filth. One zombie, a white-dressed maid with the front saturated in gore, actually climbed to her feet and walked toward them both, lipless jaws chattering. Gus smoked her across the face, and her remaining features disintegrated in a chunky burst.
But she didn’t drop. Despite having her entire sinus cavity laid bare and displaying squashed organic tissue Gus had no clue of, she walked on, arms raised, dainty hands ending in peeled fingers.
Gus hesitated at the fright.
Then Talbert’s machete split the deadhead’s noggin to the eyes. “Recognize someone, didja?”
He kicked the corpse off his blade. Gus composed himself as the rain of bodies slowed. At a glance, it appeared most of the dead had fallen in crippled heaps.
He realized then that Mortimer had ceased screaming.
Zombies spilled out of the archways on the ground floor.
“All right,” Gus barked and bounded up the stairs. “Keep them back.”
He left Talbert and switched out his bat for the battery-powered chainsaw. The tool came to life with one jab of its electric start button, and Gus cut wide across the top of the wooden barricade. Chips and dust flew into his face, making him pause to slap his visor into place. Talbert chopped and hacked, slowing the mansion’s residents.
Gus completed the first cut in less than fifteen seconds, pulled the saw free of the thick wood, and finished a pair of downward strokes in an equal amount of time. The chainsaw had surprising power, and Gus
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