ASBURY PARK

It was after three a.m. when I was putting the hot breakfast sandwiches in the warmers just delivered as it is every morning. In a few minutes, my girlfriend, Alison, came in carrying a brown paper bag, which she put on the counter next to the register. She’s the hostess at Arthur’s Landing and every Thursday night after the restaurant closes she brings me the soup du jour. Tonight it was crab and spinach bisque. We repaired to the break room and I set it up on the table. There was a camera that monitored the store where one screen faced the door.

“So how was your evening, Alison?” I asked her.

“We closed late tonight because the Gabaguls were there. I think it was the daughter, Giovanna’s, 18th birthday.”

“How did it go?”

“They brought 20lbs of crabs from Maine and had our chefs steam them. The cake was a three-tiered tiramisu cheesecake. We had to fly in the pastry chef from Calandra’s in Brooklyn. Gabagul brought in Chef Luigi Commentucci, the head chef at Frutti de Mare, our rival restaurant . Of course, our new chef wasn’t happy about that, but he was persuaded to take the night off.”

“Wow, what was it like to have a crime family in your restaurant?”

“I felt like I was on the Godfather, you know, like at his daughter’s wedding.”

There was a loud commotion in front and on the security feed, two youths, probably in their twenties,  came busting in wielding shotguns. They held the doors open for two high school girls they rescued at the side of the road.

“Hey. Is anybody in here?” the one said.

Alison and I remained silent.

“Hey. This is serious. There are zombies outside. We need to board up the windows. Now.”

We came out from the back.

“What the hell is going on?” I said.

“Look, man. We’re not here to rob you. I’m telling you. They’re all over the place.

“Who’s all over the place?

“The zombies.”

Alison and I just looked at each other.

“It’s the outbreak. Where the hell have you people been? Don’t you watch the news? It has now spread to Asbury Park. If you don’t believe me look outside”.

We went to the window and looked out into the parking lot. There was this man being pulled out of his vehicle by what looked like a decomposing corpse. It yanked the guy out and threw him on the ground then pounced on him. He was screaming and flailing as the zombie buried his face in his abdomen and came up sucking down the guy’s intestines like it was lo mein. Alison clasped her hand over her mouth and ran to the back where the restroom was. I stood there, transfixed, not believing what I was seeing. I could hear the two strays whimpering  off to the side.

The other guy at the door looked back at us and said. “Come on Joey, we gotta go out there and shoot ‘em in the head. Lock the doors and stay with the girls”, he said to me. Joe joined the guy at the door and they went out blazing. I locked the door and stood there watching the grizzly scene. There were several of these zombies hulking around the parking lot. Bodies were strewn everywhere, blood and viscera oozing out of them. Interspersed among them was the occasional discarded limb.  

My view was suddenly interrupted when a body was hurled at my face, separated only by a sheet of plexi-glass. I jumped back and shielded my face with my arms as the body exploded on the door. The  rhythmic cocking and firing sounded throughout the parking lot. The girls screamed and ran to the back of the store then sank to the floor in each other’s arms in the corner underneath the Slurpee machines. I ran to the back to see if Alison was alright. The door was locked. I knocked, “Alison, are you in there?”

“Yes, I”m here”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes”, she said then came out. Her face was blotchy and pale. “What is happening?”

“It’s true. There are zombies out there.” I replied.

“Are you freaking kidding me?”

“You saw.”

“What are we going to do?” she asked in despair.

We were interrupted by banging and yelling at the front doors. It was those kids wanting to get back in. They were carrying more guns and other potential weapons.  I rushed to the door and unlocked it for them. They started dismantling the display shelves and boarding up the doors and windows.

“You got duct tape? We gotta tape up the windows to keep them from shattering when they start banging on them”.

I walked behind the counter and took it from the drawer and handed it to him.

“Marco. You go check on the rescues.”

“So, what are we supposed to do now?” I asked.

“We have to stay here because everybody else is trying to get out  of town and all you’ll see is  bumper to bumper traffic. The zombies are getting to them because there’s no way out of town beside the parkway. This is the best place to hole up in because we have everything in here. food, water, amenities. For now.” Joe said.

The number of zombies seemed to have doubled. They were at the windows trying to get in. I thought all this stuff about zombies was just mass hysteria started by conspiracy types with their survival guides and other nonsense. Ever since The Walking Dead came out, people got all paranoid about it. That show is hardly even about zombies, it’s about themselves.

A few hours passed and the guys were up front eating the breakfast sandwiches. I put on a pot of coffee for everyone. Alison and I brought our coffee and danishes to the back. Since the windows were boarded up, we were safe for now. The guys said we should ride it out anyway.

Marco opened his backpack and took out a couple buds of weed.

“Hey, 7-eleven guy. You got any of that White Owl?”

“Yes. And it’s John. What flavor do you want?”

“You got white grape, John?”

“Yeah.”

“Gimme two and we can all smoke a blunt. Why don’t you call your girlfriend to smoke some with us. You know, take the edge off.”

I went to get the cigars knowing he wouldn’t pay for them. Oh, what’s the point. I handed it to him and he started rolling blunts. Then I went to the back and asked Alison if she wanted to get high. She said yes a little too quickly. So we went and joined the guys. We passed it around. Boy, did it take the edge off. So we’re all sitting there high and Joe says:

“There was a study where the government put chemicals in cigarettes that give you everlasting impotency and infertility. They gave it to the sex offenders in prison. Of the four hundred that were tested it worked on seventy percent of them. Twenty-three percent of them said they would quit smoking. That means you better keep your hands off of that jailbait in the back.”

“Well, if I were in prison, I wouldn’t quit smoking, that’s for sure. I mean, you gotta have something. They give you meds that already cause impotence. It’s not like they have 5-star cuisine in there neither.” Marco said.

Alison started laughing uncontrollably, as did I and Marco. She has a very whimsical and infectious laugh.

There was  angry groaning that could be heard from outside and a loud bang at the door.

“D****t! What the hell!” Marco said as he walked to the front door with his shotgun  and shot the zombie responsible for the ruckus.

“Take that zombie fuckhole!” He then locked the door and put the shelf in front of it. “I swear. You can’t even smoke weed in peace without those shitters ruining the party.”

“Does anyone know what Dadaism is?” she asked.

“Are we still talking about impotency? Is it a word for jerking off?” Joe asked.

Again, a round of hurt-your-abs laughter,

“No, it’s this pretentious art movement by pretentious artists who claim they’re not. They use any kind of s**t laying around as art, like a paper clip or a ketchup packet.  Someone ripped a urinal off a men’s room at some artsy-fartsy cafe and  hung it up and called it art.” She said.

“That’s genius.” Joe said.

“It’s f*****g assinine.” Alison said.

“Don’t get her started on Modern Art. You don’t want to go there.” I said.

“Have you ever seen Canvas Painted Blue with a White Line by Neuman? It sold at Sotheby’s for 44 million dollars.” Marco asked.

“What!!!?” She bared her teeth.

She grabbed his shotgun and started shooting up the Red Bull cooler. Joe ran to her and retrieved the gun. “Chill, girl. It’s okay. None of that s**t is art. We should blow up the MoMa right now.”

She looked at him then the both of them started laughing.

“The only modern artist I like is Roy Lichtenstein. I have The Kiss V.”  She said.

“I know him. His does comic book art. He’s cool.” Marco said.

“What do you know about art, Marco?” Joe asked.

“I know tons about art. As a matter of fact, I have a Degas ballerina on my mantle, see?” Marco stated.

Just then the young blonde came running out from the back of the store screaming that her friend was one of them. She was in hysterics.

“What the hell are you guys doing? Are you all actually smoking weed in the middle of a Zombie

Apocalypse? Are you people crazy? You think you’re the Merry Pranksters? Can’t you see that the girl turned into a zombie and is trying to kill me?”

The brunette came hulking from the back after her. Joe ran to the cooler and grabbed a bottle of wine. He broke it on a shelf by the handle and took the jagged part and stabbed her in the face with it repeatedly. Alison was holding the girl to calm her down.

You’re bleeding,” Joe said, indicating the blonde.

“Let’s throw her out to the zombies.” Marco said.

“That’s awful. Why the hell would we do that?” interjected Alison.

“Because she’s infected. It’s just a matter of time when she’ll turn. Then she’ll go after us and infect us all. If we put her out there before she turns, they’ll take her and put her out of her misery. We’d be doing her a favor. And anyway, I have a plan.” Marco said.

“What is it?”  I asked.

“Well, the zombies will be distracted with her, then Joe and I could go out and get gasoline so we could make molotov cocktails. There’s only ten of them out there. We could take them.” Joe said.

“That is so messed up. What is wrong with you people?” Alison asked.

“It’s survival, baby. Come on. Don’t you want to live?” Marco asked.

“Just do what you have to do.” I said.

Alison shook her head and walked to the back not without taking the blunt with her.

Marco took the girl and slung her over his shoulder. Joe suddenly got a flashback of Marco slinging his wife over his shoulder and doing the same thing to her just a couple hours ago at their house in Long Branch.  Joe and I slid the shelf away from the door and they both walked out, Joe wielding the shotgun. He started shooting them as they came for him. Marco took the girl and threw her to the rest of the zombies. They caught her and immediately started to tear her apart. She was still screaming when they got her. Her screams echoed in my head.  It’s a matter of survival I told myself to justify it. It doesn’t take much to justify anything.

They came back in with 3 gallon containers full of gasoline.

“Go grab some bottles.“ I went through the motions and retrieved four bottles. I felt like I was in a bad dream.

“Get some of that Bacardi 151 too, so we could mix it in. Get some ammonia, bleach and aluminum foil. That will be for explosives.  And anything that you might think is flammable.”

I went to the kitchen area and took some  ammonia and other cleaning agents and threw them into the mix. He grabbed some rags to ignite them.

As we were assembling the explosives we were all doing shots of the Bacardi 151. I took out the kiddie sized Slurpie cups so we could play quarters while we listened to Bohemian Rhapsody.

All of a sudden there was a loud crash outside. Someone had crashed into the pole with his car. The driver, obviously a survivor,  came staggering out carrying a fireman’s axe. His left hand was missing. It looked like it happened a long time ago or he could’ve been born that way. He looked about our age. We opened the door and said, “Come on. Get in here.” However, by the time he got to the door, a zombie had chomped a piece of the arm that was missing his hand. We grabbed him and yanked him inside the store. We were all thinking about that axe.

“Thanks. I was trying to avoid this zombie then next thing you know, I crashed into the pole.” he said.

“You just got bit. So now you’re infected.” Joe said.

”Maybe if we chop his arm off, he might not be,” Marco said.

“Or else we could just feed him to the zombies.” I said.

Everyone’s heads turned to me and looked at me funny. “Well, we don’t need anymore zombies in this store..” I said.

“Now you’re talking, Johnny,” Marco said.

“No. please don’t do that. I’ll do anything. Cut my arm off if you have to. Look, I know where there’s a safe haven. I even got the map to it.”  he said, taking a crumpled up piece of paper out of his jeans pocket.

Joe grabbed the map. “It’s in Hopeful, Pennsylvania. Isn’t that Amish country?”

“It’s Mennonite. My grandparent’s got a hundred acres up  there. The outbreak hasn’t reached up there and right now, they’re fortifying it. We could get there through the old underground railroad.”

“Okay.  You get that grill, Joe. We’ll use that as the metal.  You got some Lysol spray, John? Get that and a lighter. We’ll use that as a torch to cauterize the wound.What’s your name?”

“Eli.”

“Well, Eli, I’m not going to lie to you, but this is going to hurt like hell.” To me he said “ Give him a shot of the 151 then get his belt off and strap it between his teeth.”

Not three seconds after I put it between his teeth Marco took the axe and chopped off the kid’s arm. It took a second before he screamed in agony and pain, (probably because of the shock). His cries echoed throughout the store. There was blood spewing out of the stump.

“Joe, cauterize it. Quick!” Joe had been heating up the piece of metal in preparation then pushed it into the stump. He had me hold the lighter on while he handled the lysol can and sprayed it so a flame came out and burned the metal. I could hear it sizzling. It reeked of burning flesh. Eli fainted.

That didn’t give me any reassurance. He could still be infected. What if it metastasized. Or he could already have been infected before he got here. Maybe we should feed him to the zombies. I have Alison to think about. But he had a map to a safe haven. We couldn’t stay here. The zombies were now coming in throngs.

“How did you know how to do all that?” I asked Joe.

“I was a medic in the army but I got dishonorably discharged.” Joe replied. “Now what’s the story, Eli?” As he came to.

“I came to this specific location because beneath this store is a part of the underground railroad. We just have to find the manhole. I’ve looked before when I was doing research. I think it may be out back where your garbage is fenced in.” They all went to the back and saw that there was a manhole there.

“Where were you coming from, Eli?” I asked.

“I was coming from Atlantic City when they started coming after me at the Pine Barrens. I put the news on and they said there was an epidemic of this virus and it came out of Rutgers Camden. A bio-geneticist  attempted to reanimate a corpse to obtain viable stem cells. He did this by injecting it with a serum he was working on. It worked, only it wasn’t  decomposition-retardant.. The thing got loose from the lab and the infection spread exponentially.”

“What kind of sick narcissist scientist would do something like that?” Joe asked.

“Someone with a God-complex.” I said.

“Alright, Eli, we’re  trusting you to get us there. But before we go, we need to stock up on food and water and weapons.” Joe said. “And let me hold the map.”

We went back inside and filled up bags with bottled water and as much food and snacks as we could. We took our molotov cocktails and the explosive material with us and his axe. We took all the flashlights in the store. There were four. I took batteries in case they ran out. Alison also filled her purse with anything she could get her hands on.

“Get the cover off,” he said to me. “I’ll go first. Marco, you get the rear.”

Eli went second so he could read the map with Joe. Then Alison. Then me. Then Marco.

We must have walked eight miles and Eli said he had to sit down for a minute. We all decided to take a break and have something to eat and drink. The flashlights were still working.

Eli sat down a little ways behind us. Marco went to check on him. He yelled something and came running up to us.

“He turned. The kid turned. I bashed his head in with the axe.”

“Thank goodness,” Alison said.

Joe went to see for himself that Eli was dead. The rest of us followed him. There was Eli, lying on the ground, his face unrecognizable. There had been no indication that he was infected after we had amputated his arm. It was Marco’s word that Eli had turned.

Alison buried her face in my chest and I held her, hoping to shield her from the gruesome sight, but she had already seen.

Joe took Marco aside and said, “‘Are you sure he was turning? Even after we cut his arm off?”

“Didn’t you recognize him? We bullied him when we were kids. We got his hand chopped off by the lawnmower when we were  twelve.”

“Wow. Was that him?” John asked.

“Yes. He recognized me and bit me.”

“You’ll be alright, Marco. We’ll get help when we get to the next manhole.”

“It’s too late. Eli bit me. I am not going to turn into a zombie. That’s not how I’m going down. I’m going down in a blaze of fire and you’re coming with me. I know you were sleeping with my wife.”

“It wasn’t like that, Marco. You were never around. There was no one there to take care of her. She was lonely.”

“You were my best friend. Now you’re going to pay.” he said and tackled Joe to the ground. He bit him in the neck. “Sorry, Joe, but you had this coming.” Joe fought him off and punched him unconscious. He hadn’t turned yet. afterall.

“Hey, John, Marco just bit  me. You guys aren’t safe. You will have to kill us all. Throw the molotov cocktail and the bomb too.” Joe said.

“Oh, honey. How can we do such a thing? We’ve already murdered a girl when we  threw her to the zombies. They’ve been helping us this whole time. We can’t just kill them.” Alison said to me.

“Dear, you heard what Joe said. Marco is already turning. He bit Joe, now he’s going to turn as well. Marco is sure to eat him and us if we don’t stop him. Joe is already infected. It’s just a matter of time. He’s trying to protect us. He’d rather die this way than be eaten by his friend or  or have him eat us. It’s the humane thing to do.”

“OK. Whatever you think is best. I will stand by your decision.”

“Get me a couple of those wine  bottles. I’ll fill them up with the ammonia and bleach and the Bacardi 151.”

We took two pulls before we started making the explosives. Marco was writhing and Joe was holding on to his neck.

“Hurry up. He’s turning this minute and I’m going to turn real soon. This has got to end here. You guys have the map. You go to the safe haven.” Joe said.

The bottles were prepared and lit, and I threw it down the passageway. In a moment the molotov cocktails detonated and  burst into flames.

I hugged Alison so she could compose herself. I took the map from my pocket to decipher the directions. From my calculations, it would probably take four hours from now.

“So that was so fascinating what you were saying about Dada. I’ve never seen you so passionate about anything before.”  I said.

“Yeah. Well, the literary types are the worst. They like to write in obscenities just to outrage the public. They’re vulgar and they want to call their work literature.  Just like their art. They go for shock value. I can have no respect for anyone who is into Dada, but that’s exactly what they go for. If I ever meet anyone who’s into that s**t I’m going to take this molotov cocktail and stick it so far up their a*s their head will explode.

“Calm down, baby. No one’s into that s**t these days. They’re into Salman Rushdie and Georgia O’Keeffe.

“I guess you’re right, honey. Is there any of that weed left?” she said.