Bookshelf Battle

Blake’s head was undead.  His eyes were blank and his teeth were tightly clamped around Townsend’s ankle.  Townsend wiggled his leg back and forth but it was no use.  Blake was like a dog with a bone.

Slade, Gunther and Miles ran over.  Slade brought his boot heal down on Blake’s head over and over again until finally the zombie’s skull cracked and his brain smooshed. Released from Blake’s jaws, Townsend fell backward, but Gunther caught him.

“Drop him,” Miles said.

“What?”  Gunther asked.  The old man locked his arms underneath Townsend’s armpits and dragged him across the room toward a chair in front of the table. 

“Get away from him!”  Miles urged.

Gunther propped Townsend up in the chair and looked at the boy.  “Why would I…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Gunther was tackled to the floor by a viciously feral zombie Townsend.  His eyes too had gone blank and he was growling like a rabid dog.

Townsend took hold of Gunther’s neck and proceeded to squeeze the life out of the old timer.  The zombie’s jaws snapped wildly until a shot rang out.  Blood spattered all over Gunther’s face as he pushed the decapitated corpse off of himself.

Slade standing over him with a smoking pistol was a welcome sight.  Gunther took Slade’s hand and was helped up to his feet.  He coughed and wiped the blood off of his face before getting his bearings again.

“Care to explain?” Gunther asked Miles.

“If a zombie bites you, you will become a zombie,”  Miles said.

As soon as those words made their way into Doc’s ears, the medicine man raised a hand and brushed his fingers over the scratch on his cheek.

“What did you say, young man?”  Doc asked.

“Drinking a vampire’s blood and then dying isn’t the only way to become a zombie,” Miles said.  “A zombie bite will instantly turn a living person into…”

Miles pointed to Townsend’s remains.  “…that.”

“I stand corrected, Miles,” Gunther between deep breathes.  “That shit was too important to have forgotten.”

“I’m sorry,” Miles said.

Gunther slapped the kid on the back.  “I aint dead so don’t mention it.”

“But this man,” Miles said.  “I could have saved him.”

“Could have but didn’t,” Gunther said.  “No use worrying about it now.”

Doc pressed a hand down on the table and pulled himself up only to fall right back down.  Annabelle offered Doc her arm and helped the physician hobble over to survey the carnage.

“How deep of a bite do you wager would cause this dreadful infliction?” Doc asked he he stared down at Townsend’s body.

“I don’t know,” Miles said.

“Dear boy, you must know,” Doc said.

A confused look was all Miles returned until Gunther intervened.

“What are you getting at?”

Doc pointed at his cheek.  “This scratch,”  Doc said.  “The one that you mocked as being of little consequence, Deputy.  It was given to me by the tooth of one of these insipid beasts and I have grown weaker ever since.”

Miles looked Doc over.  “People usually turn right away when they’ve been bitten.”

“Instantly?”  Doc asked.

“Instantly,” Miles answered.

“That is a relief,” Doc said as he took a sip of his Miracle Cure-All.  “Even so, this scratch and my subsequent illness could not be mere coincidental occur…”

Doc dropped to the ground with such force that Annabelle wasn’t able to keep him on his feet.  As he fell, his elixir bottle smashed on the floor in an explosion of glass and murky brown liquid.

Miles’ eyes widened and his nostrils flared.

Annabelle crouched down and lightly slapped Doc’s face.

“Doc?”  Annabelle asked. 

Doc’s eyes opened.  “…ences!”

Annabelle squeezed Doc’s hand.  “Are you ok?”

“Not as such, my dear,”  Doc said.  “I’m not sure what happened.  It was if my entire body simply stopped working then started up again.”

Miles dipped a finger into the spilled elixir and sniffed it.

“What is this?”  Miles asked.

“Oh,” Doc said.  “’Twas my Miracle Cure-All, my dear boy.  An unfortunate waste of medicine to be sure but fear not as I have more.”

“This isn’t medicine,” Miles said.  “This is Blythe.”