Daily Archives: June 26, 2016

How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 116

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The blood and guts in her hair didn’t phase Slade. Once Standing Eagle’s warriors were cut loose, Slade grabbed hold of Miss Bonnie and kissed her deeply. Passionately.

Slade pulled back. “I thought you were dead.”

“I thought you weren’t going to come for me,” Miss Bonnie replied.

“Looks like you didn’t need me to,” Slade said.

“I know,” Miss Bonnie said as she rested her head against Slade’s chest for a moment. “But it’s nice to know that you tried.”

The pair kissed again, madly swapping spit and tongues, lost in each other, oblivious to the world.

“Ahem.”

Miles was back to his boy form and standing next to the couple, pretending to clear his throat.

Petrified, Slade froze up.

“She’s awake?” Slade asked.

“Yup.”

Slade turned around to face his bride.

It isn’t easy to describe a facial expression. The English language has words like “unhappy” or “disappointed” or “sad” but really there isn’t a single word that can sum up the pain that the Widow Farquhar was in upon seeing her fiancé sucking the face of the Highwater’s most infamous prostitute.

The best attempt at a description would require you, the noble reader, to imagine that you’re a child again, and your beloved grandmother just gifted you an adorable puppy dog on Christmas morning. You’re sitting there, petting it, stroking it, bonding with it and then all of a sudden your grandmother produces a revolver, blows the dog’s brains out, declares that Santa Claus is non-existent, then blows her brains out. Finally, your parents walk in and upon seeing the mayhem, they too produce revolvers, inform you that you’re a loathsome disappointment, and then blow their brains out.

The look on your face as you sit there amongst the rotting carcasses of your puppy, granny, and parents would not only be a perfect blend of shame, sadness, depression, anger, confusion, agony and despair, but also it would be more or less similar to the expression that enveloped Sarah’s face that day.

Sarah’s voice wavered. She’d lived a sheltered life, cared for by men all of her days. Confrontation was something she just was not used to.

Her voice faltered.

“You…”

Slade stammered. “Sarah…I…umm…”

Sarah’s hair was a bird’s nest like mess from all the turmoil she’d been through. Her dress was wet, filled with holes, covered with so much mud and blood that it looked nothing like a wedding dress anymore but rather like the tattered rags of a common street beggar.

She drew closer. “You thought that I…was her.”

Slade’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Miss Bonnie stepped back.

“No,” Slade said.

“You were disappointed when you saw me on the train,” Sarah said.

Slade shook his head. “No, no. Not at all…I…”

Sarah looked Slade in the eye. “You called me Bonnie.”

Slade dropped his head in shame. “Yes.”

The Farquhars were good Christian folk, people who believed that the bible wasn’t just a collection of useful morality tales but rather, that all that hullaballoo actually happened. Thus, from a young age, Sarah had been taught to be a good person, to behave herself and mind her P’s and Q’s, lest she be denied entry into heaven, or be turned into a pillar of salt, or end up in hell pushing a boulder up a never-ending hill forever and ever.

But in that moment, she forgot all that and unleashed the most breathtakingly obscene tirade that had ever occurred in the history of Highwater.

“You fucking cocksucker!” Sarah shouted.

She slapped her dainty hands across Slade’s chest. He stood there and took it like a man. It wasn’t that difficult. There wasn’t much power behind those slaps.

“You dirty son of a bitch bastard, fucking two-timing, philandering, rancid piece of shit out of cow’s smelly ass!”

“Whoa,” said Miles as he stepped a few feet backward to avoid the fray.

“I hate you!” Sarah cried. And she was, literally crying. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her swears were interrupted by sobs. “ I fucking hate you, you fucking disgusting pig and I hope that you contract a fucking disease that makes you shit blood out of your asshole until you fucking die!”

“Sarah,” Slade said. “Can we…can we just talk?”

In response to that question, Sarah balled her hand into a fist and launched it at Slade’s jaw. There was power behind that blow and in terms of pain, it ranked right up there with all the socks in the jaw Slade had received from various criminals in his career as a law man.

“And you!” Sarah shouted at Miss Bonnie.

Miss Bonnie closed her eyes. She figured she deserved a good punch of her own for stealing a bride’s groom but instead felt something small bounce off her cheek.

The redhead looked down to see Slade’s mother’s ring lying in the dirt. Sarah had screwed it off her finger and thrown it at Miss Bonnie’s head.

“You can have him…whore!”

Sarah stormed out of the barn and into the road. She walked off. Slade, Miss Bonnie and Miles followed.

“Sarah!” Slade yelled.

Sarah kept walking. Slade kept following.

Down the road, Standing Eagle’s warriors could be seen marching toward the barn. They were carrying a large bundle of some kind, so big that it required men on each side to hoist it over their shoulders.

“Sarah!” Slade yelled again. “I can’t just let you leave on your own! There are zombies out there!”

Sarah did an about face, balled her hand, gritted her teeth and screamed like a raging, rabid animal.

“Shit!” Slade said as he put up his hands to protect his face from the series of blows that rained down upon him. “Ok! Ok!”

Sarah gave up and kept walking. Slade stayed in place but shouted one more time, “Sarah.”

“What?” Sarah asked without turning around.

“I’m sorry.”

Sarah kept walking. “Fuck your sorry in the ass with a syphilitic donkey cock.”

“Jesus,” Slade said to himself.

Slade didn’t move but he could feel Miss Bonnie’s presence next to him. Together, they stood silently for a moment and watched as Sarah walked past the incoming warriors.

“Did you know she had that in her?” Miss Bonnie asked.

“I did not,” Slade replied.

Slade was about to walk to the barn to collect his mother’s ring when Miss Bonnie held up her hand and twitched her fingers to show that she was wearing it.

The lawman sighed.

“What?” the redhead asked.

“The vampire,” Slade said. “Said I wasn’t able to feel hope. That I’d never be happy. No one around me will be happy.”

Miss Bonnie took Slade by the chin and kissed them. “I doubt it,” she said.

“What if he’s right?” Slade asked.

“Then we’ll be unhappy together,” Miss Bonnie said.

The couple embraced and kissed again.

“But what if…”

Miss Bonnie cut her man off. “Fuck that vampire! Now you get down on your knees and you beg me for my hand, Rainier Slade!”

Slade smiled, as did Miss Bonnie. Neither of them felt the need to say it, but for a man who was allegedly unable to feel hopeful, Slade was looking very happy.

He got down on one knee and took Miss Bonnie’s hand.

“Bonnie,” Slade said. “If you’ll have me…”

“Oh shut up,” Miss Bonnie said as the two hugged and kissed again.

The newly engaged couple walked hand in hand down the road. Their joy quickly turned to sadness when they caught up to the warriors. Miles had already joined them.

Wandering Snake directed the warriors as they laid their bundle down.

It wasn’t just any bundle. As Snake pulled the sheet away, the lifeless face of Standing Eagle was revealed.

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How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 115

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Miss Bonnie was feeling rather discouraged.

Her hands had been tied behind her back. Her legs were bound together. Like a slab of beef, she was left to hang upside down from the rafters of a dusty barn by a length of rope tied around her feet.

There was enough slack in the rope that her head was only a few feet off the ground. She felt dizzy as all the blood rushed to her head, turning her face roughly the same color as her hair.

Her resilience remained.

“This is bullshit,” she said.

Standing Eagle’s warriors had been similarly restrained. Charging Bobcat and Screeching Owl hanged to the left of Miss Bonnie, while Crafty Fox and Wandering Snake hanged to her right.

Charging Bobcat flexed, shook, shimmied, writhed his body all about, grunting and groaning, fighting for his freedom.

“You will strain yourself,” a calm Snake said.

“So we just do nothing?” a belligerent Bobcat replied.

“We wait for the spirits to make their will known,” Snake said.

“That’s a good way to get yourself killed,” Bobcat said.

Bobcat gritted his teeth as he struggled. Finally, he shouted loudly. Angrily.

“Arrrrrrrrrrrrghhh!”

The room went silent.

“It is a good way to not lose your mind,” Snake said.

The barn doors swung open.

Lamont walked in and laid his bag down on a table that had been set up for him in the middle of the barn.

“Oi,” the cockney vampire said. “Let’s have a lil look see at me crowded space, yeah?”

The vampire opened his bag and laid out a variety of tools. First, there was a rusty pair of pliers.

“Pinchers they is,” Lamont said. “Yank your scratchers right off your pointers.”

Filled with fear and confusion, the hostages took in the show. Lamont was happy to spend some time instructing his captives on the tortures he had in store for them.

Next was a pair of scissors. “Nice snip snips,” Lamont said. “Take off a toesy woesy they will.”

Out came a long, sharp knife. “Slasher. Now that’ll rearrange your gullivah all right..”

“What’s he saying?” Bobcat whispered.

“I don’t know,” Miss Bonnie replied.

“What tongue is he speaking in?” Bobcat asked.

“English,” Miss Bonnie said. “But I think like…from England.”

Lamont pulled out more items. A cat of nine tails. A length of chain. A few collars with spikes pointing inward.

He chuckled as he pulled out the last item – a corkscrew.

The vampire walked over to Miss Bonnie, leaned down in front of her face and held the corkscrew in front of her eyes.

“One lil pop in your thinker in just the right spot love and youse a thinker no more,” Lamont said. “A blood bag forever after. Stay nice and fresh and give us some drinky poos you will.”

“I don’t get it,” Bobcat said.

“He’s going to perform a crude surgery on our brains so we won’t think any more but we’ll remain alive and pump blood that will be harvested for his kind to feed on,” Snake explained.

“Shut yer gob,” Lamont said as he shook his knife at Snake. “You’ll get your turn.”
Lamont picked the knife up off the table and sliced the rope that was holding up Miss Bonnie, allowing her to drop face first on the floor.
“Miss Bonnie said as she lifted her head up. Her face was bruised and bloodied from the fall. “And here I just thought he was some kind of fucked up pervert.”

Lamont brushed the palm of his hand across Miss Bonnie’s cheek.

“Mmm,” the vampire said. “Nice and soft. A pretty piece of flesh.”

“Shit,” Miss Bonnie said.

“Upsie daisy now,” Lamont said as he grabbed Miss Bonnie by the arm and dragged her over to the table. The vampire propped his vampire up in a chair and looked down on her.

“‘Ello poppet,” Lamont said. “Fancy a spot of fun? A bit of rough and tumble, ay? A little bit of the ole in and out? Nice day for a proper rogering in’it?”

Miss Bonnie responded with a gooey glob of spit that launched from her mouth to her captor’s face.

“We need to do something,” Bobcat said.

Snake’s eyes were closed as part of his meditation. “If we are meant to do something the opportunity will present itself.”

“But…”

“Trust in the spirits to make all right,” Snake said.

Lamont wiped the spit off his face and laughed. Then his eyes turned blank and blood red. He stared into Miss Bonnie’s eyes.

“You want it, don’t you love?” the vampire asked.

All the fight went out of Miss Bonnie. “Oh…I do…”

“That’s more like it,” Lamont said with a grin. He cut the rope away from Miss Bonnie’s feet and hands, then set his knife down on the table.

Miss Bonnie’s lips went all pouty. She batted her eyelashes. “Please. Don’t make me wait for it any longer.”

Lamont picked up Miss Bonnie, threw her down on the table, then started unbuttoning his shirt.

“Snake!” Bobcat said. “The woman!”

Snake kept his eyes closed. “Patience.”
Lamont and Miss Bonnie’s lips met, their tongues twirled together. But as the vampire reached a hand into the redhead’s blouse, her hand was reaching for something else.

The knife.

She seized it and with a swift motion, sliced open Lamont’s throat. Black blood rained out of it and onto her face.

The vampire stumbled back as Miss Bonnie stood up and pointed the knife at him.

Lamont reached for his throat, which was already beginning to heal. By the look on his face, he was clearly perplexed.

“A trick doesn’t work on someone that knows it’s coming, asshole!” Miss Bonnie said as she poked the air with her new blade, putting the vampire on the defensive.

Bobcat registered his disbelief. “What the…”

“Spirits,” Snake said.

“Spirits my ass,” Bobcat said. “That is one crazy white bitch.”

Lamont charged at Miss Bonnie. Together, they crashed into the table, smashing it to pieces. The knife was lost in the scuffle, leaving Miss Bonnie defenseless.

The vampire stood and grabbed Miss Bonnie’s feet. He started to drag her away. In vain, Miss Bonnie dug her nails into the dirt, as if that would somehow make her immobile.

Luckily, she grabbed a broken table leg just in time.

Lamont’s fangs popped out. He raised his right arm up ready to strike only to recoil in pain as Miss Bonnie plunged the table leg into his heart.

Shocked, the vampire looked at his impaled chest, then at Miss Bonnie, then back to his chest. He did this a few more times before finally voicing his confusion.

“But…but…youse a girl!”

The vampire’s eyes bugged out of his head, his veins pulsed, his skin turned purple and then like an overfilled balloon, his body exploded, sending black blood, bile, guts and parts everywhere.

Miss Bonnie wiped the blood out of her eyes. She was drenched.

“And don’t you forget it, motherfucker!”

“I…I am impressed,” Bobcat said.

Snake’s eyes opened. “Spirits. Am I right?”

“Fucking men,” Miss Bonnie said. “Always thinking with their peckers.”

The doors bursted open again. Miles entered in werewolf form, with Slade and Sarah on his back.

“Bonnie!” Slade shouted. “I’m here to rescue you!”

Slade hopped off of Miles’ back, allowing Sarah to rest on the werewolf as if he were a big furry couch. He looked around at the blood soaked room, then at Bonnie. He instantly realized how stupid his words were.

Miss Bonnie picked up the knife then walked over to Snake. She started sawing away at the rope that was holding the shaman captive.

“Fucking men,” she repeated.

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