This is the second chapter of an "urban fantasy/slap-stick comedy with zombies" and a cat. Six hours left on the laptop battery. Four friends. One cat. Too many zombies.
Read Six Hours Remaining: Chapter 1 here!
Six Hours Remaining
Chapter 2 part 1
The power fluctuated in the house. Gabriel looked at his laptop screen.
“Now, it could just be for a movie, or a military training exercise...”
“Does Britain even have a military? Aside from U.N.I.T.? Like those men in the big goofy hats?” James asked as he recovered his taco from the floor, wiped it off and inspected it for cat hair.
“The British Armed Forces,” Nikki said over a mouthful of taco.
“Anyways, does Britain even do that? What's the picture caption say?” James asked.
“My friend didn't leave a caption, it was just an automatic upload from his smart phone... Wait, here's another one.” He opened the image full-screen and turned it back around to show them. It was taken outside of a movie theater, with a dozen of the burned people walking towards the camera. Fire and smoke obscured the background.
“It could be Photoshop'd or some publicity stunt. Nothing to stop me from eating my tacos.”
“I dunno, can we check the news first?” Gabriel asked.
“What, like on actual television? We don't have cable, just Netflix.” James said as he looked towards the television sheepishly.
“Where do you usually get your news?”
Nikki looked at James.
“The same place everyone does—Facebook.”
“OK well... let me try and see what I can find. Ut oh.”
“What?” Nikki and James echoed.
The power flickered again and finally went out. Gabriel's laptop gave a beep indicating it was switching to battery power.
“The internet is down.”
“Well, now what?”
James asked, still clutching his game controller hopefully.
“I can't believe you guys don't have cable—”
“Neither do you. It's not like it's ever been a problem before. I've always just downloaded my TV series or movies. I've never needed to download the news before.” “We've never had to question a zombie invasion before, either.”
“Touché.”
They sat on the couch and stared at a blank television screen. Somewhere in the apartment, Jezabelle was clawing at the carpet.
"Let's walk down to the gas station, maybe they've heard something from the truckers this morning.” James suggested, setting down his remote control.
“Do you work tonight?” Gabriel asked.
“Yeah, but I don't want to wait to find out. Let's just get some answers so we can get back to--”
A loud noise rocked the apartment to its foundation. Nikki nearly jumped out of her seat.
“What the heck..?” James stood up from the couch and went to the window followed closely by Nikki and Gabriel. Outside, another house had gone up in flames.
“It must've been their propane tank or something,” Gabriel said as he pressed a finger against the glass to point out the house.
“What the heck is going on? Where are all the fire trucks and police?” Nikki shook her head as she stared out the window.
“I don't know, but that fire is going to spread. And it's... heading this way.” James frowned as the flames rose in to the air and the wind whipped the smoke and flames towards their direction. They stared out the window as another house began to smoke. Across the street, their creepy neighbor burst out the front doors in his bright yellow shorts. He waved his arms and was yelling but they couldn't hear him through the glass.
“Ugh, it's Mr. Creeper. James? Don't make me talk to him, he always gives me that look...”
“Alright, fine. He looks pretty concerned, anyways. Maybe his TV is still working.” James opened the door and looked over his shoulder. “C'mon, Gabe, you're my wingman.” Gabriel shrugged and followed him out and across the street. Mr. Creeper was struggling to catch his breath once they approached him. Sweat poured down his balding head and furry stomach. He coughed and wiped his nose with one meaty fist.
“You... damn kids,” he wheezed.
“Get off my lawn,” Gabriel whispered behind James.
“Listen, just before my TV shut off, there was an emergency broadcast,” Mr. Creeper rubbed his forehead and wiped it off on his too-short-shorts.
"From an actual government, right? This isn't another one of your alien stories--”
“No! You have to believe me. Zombies! I saw them, and they're headed our way.”
“Sounds legit.” James crossed his arms over his chest. “So you were watching the news and then there was this broadcast, and you ran outside in a panic?”
“Didn't you hear that explosion? I thought the gov't might be starting to bomb the place, so I wanted to check and see if the zombies were here yet.”
“Right. And did the TV broadcast mention anything about how or where these zombies were appearing?”
“Did they look like burnt crispy people?” Gabriel asked with a slightly high-pitched voice.
Mr. Creeper wrung his hands together. He swallowed and looked to either side of the street before he spoke.
“They said not to drink the water, that someone—or something—had compromised the water supplies worldwide. Coordinated attack, they said.”
“We'll be fine, we only drink Mt. Dew.” Gabriel said.
“Something
“No, I'm serious. We can't just leave him like that...”
Nikki opened the front door followed by James and Gabriel. Mr. Creeper was face-down thrashing on the pavement. He jerked his back so hard they heard a 'crack' sound as they approached. His body went limp on the ground. James knelt down a few feet away and Nikki reached for his neck to check for a pulse.
“What are you doing?” Gabriel asked, standing just behind James.
“Checking for a pulse?” Nikki said as she stared at Mr. Creeper's sweaty neck. “I'm not really sure how, I mean--you just press, right?”
“Get back!” James grabbed Nikki's wrist before she touched their neighbor's skin. Mr. Creeper's body shook and contorted, pulling him in to a fetal position without a sound. His pale skin began to flake and turn an ashen-gray. They all stepped backwards as his skin began to peel away and crumble. His back split open like an overly-ripe fruit and spilled watery-puss on to the asphalt. The liquid boiled and slid across the hot ground towards them.
"Gross!” Nikki squeaked and scrambled backwards. James and Gabriel couldn't stop staring.
“Don't let it touch your shoes, man,” Gabriel said as he took a step back as well. Mr. Creeper began to move again, stretching one arm out at a time and digging his fingernails in to the hot ground. He pulled himself forward with a long moan. His head snapped to the side and his eyes rolled back in to place. They had changed from their normal watery-blue to pale gray.