Chapter 15 - Welcome to Zombocom

Current Region: Confounding Cul-De-Sac

Thump.

Knock knock! The pizza delivery was here! Except it was thumping instead of knocking and it was a zombie that was being delivered instead of pizza.

Thump. The table against the door rattled. Just like the back door, the front door had narrow frosted window panes lining the sides, and through the right one Brent spied the edge of a gray silhouette standing right outside.

“Ohcrapohcrapohcrap,” Karisma clutched her head while speaking at a million miles per minute. “We must have made too much noise moving the furniture around. Okay, it sounds like there’s just one. Everyone just stay quiet, maybe it’ll go away after a while.”

Thump.

They waited in silence.

Thump.

Thump-thump. A second thump followed the first, and another gray silhouette came into view in the left window pane.

This was getting out of hand, now there were two of them!

Thump-thump-thump.

Unfortunately it didn’t seem to matter that Brent and company were no longer making noise, as the mere thumping sound of the zombies currently at the door was now drawing in the others in a horrible chain reaction.

Thumpthumpthumpthump. Three became four, four became five, and after that the thumps devolved into a constant, uncountable cacophony.

This was really bad. The zombies were already here and they had barely started fortifying the house.

The five of them stared at the door, which was vibrating somewhat from the constant thumping. But the table and chair they had braced it with weren’t budging, an effort well spent.

“Hey, at least the door is holding for now, so they can’t get in,” Harry said.

Crash! The sound of glass breaking in another room echoed through the hall, followed by the sound of bodies dropping in and low moans.

“You jinxed it!” Karisma hissed.

“Oops, me and my big mouth.”

Well, they had known that the windows were a potential weak point so it didn’t come as too much of a surprise that the zombies were coming in through them.

Brent saw motion out of the corner of his eye, and looked back. But it was just Reisa, slowly backing towards a side door, her gray eyes filled with fear.

Was she about to run? Brent was scared too, but that seemed very foolish in this situation. She might run right into a zombie.

“Uh, hey, I know you’re scared, but uh, you should stick with us,” he whispered to her, his voice coming out much shakier than he would have liked. “We’ll be safer together.”

“O-of course,” Reisa nodded. “I… trust you can protect me, so... I’ll be in your care.”

Wow. Now that was a line Brent had always wanted to hear someone like a beautiful elf princess say to him. But her tone was wavering, sounding very uncertain, and to be honest Brent was not too sure of himself at the moment. By now he should have had gotten enchanted weapons, magic spells, cool combat Skills, or some other cheat ability. What he actually had was… well, what did he have?

“Inventory.”

Inventory

D-Bucks: $6873

Vertical Foregrip

2-4x variable ACOG

Shotgun shells (19)

Sniper rifle stock

7.62mm ammo (30)

Bandages (3)

Tactical Combat Knife

Monstrous Energy Drink (2)

Extended magazine [SMG, Level 2]

Great Valley Mix Bar (8)

Baked Beans (3)

Dombey-Tart (3)

Barrel stabilizer [LMG, Level 1]

Diminutive Slugger

Bump Stock

Shirt (1)

Jeans

Fleece Jacket

Potato (5)

Flashlight

Silencer

Green Triangle Sights

.357 Magnum Ammo (6)

5.56mm Ammo (30)

.357 Magnum revolver (6/6)

Frag Grenade (2)

Smoke Grenade (1)

A bunch of guns, clothes and some snacks. Well, when life gives you lemons...

“Okay, I guess we’re fighting now,” Ray was saying. “It’s gonna be close quarters, so rifles and other long weapons aren’t going to do so hot. You’ll want to switch to a submachine gun or pistol, something short so you don’t get stuck in narrow spaces. Or hell, use a melee weapon if you have one. No firearms skill required.”

Brent did have a couple of those. He rummaged through his backpack and took out the baseball bat.

Weapon Equipped – Diminutive Slugger

Harry had that odd triple-barreled pistol out while Karisma hefted a crowbar.

Ray pointed at the bow strapped to Reisa’s back. “Do you know how to use that?”

“Yes, the bows of your world are strange but they work the same way. However, I have only four arrows.”

“Alright, well-”

Bam! The door behind Reisa flew open and a rabbit-eared zombie stumbled through, reaching out with rotting claws.

“Oh SHIT!”

Brent was the closest one to her, and he couldn’t let that zombie get its hands on her. One bite might end her life, elf or not. He had to act.

He quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him. “Wha-!?” she yelped.

Now he was in the zombie’s path. Brent raised his baseball bat and swung.

Thunk! A blue holographic number 36 popped out as Brent struck a solid blow against the zombie’s chest, sending it reeling back until it hit the wall.

“Up the stairs! NOW!” Ray bellowed, and started tromping up the steps. The others followed suit, trying to suppress their panic.

The staircase was lining one side of the entrance hall, with wooden railing on the left and solid wall on the right. They only had to worry about them coming from one direction.

As Brent ascended he saw the zombie through the gaps in the railing. It seemed that his blow hadn’t been enough to kill it, and after a few seconds it began lurching forward again.

“Guhhhhh,” the zombie groaned. It blindly bumped into the side of the staircase once, twice, then slid around to the bottom of the stairs. But by this time the five survivors had reached the top.

Ray motioned for everyone to get back behind him, then drew a pistol as the zombie slowly made its way up one step, then another.

He pulled back the slide and flicked the safety off. The zombie was up three steps now.

He raised the gun to eye level and tilted his head. But instead of shooting he just stared at the zombie as it took another step up, rasping and snarling with a barely attached jaw. Four steps.

“Uh-” Harry started.

“Shhh!” Ray adjusted his aim. The zombie took one more step before Ray exhaled and squeezed the trigger.

Pang! The zombie’s head jerked back, a hole having appeared in the middle of its forehead and black blood spraying behind it where the bullet had exited. The rest of its body went limp and fell backwards as well, sliding all the way back down the stairs.

“Got it,” Ray declared. But how did he know?

They waited a few seconds to be sure, but it didn’t start moving again.

“Oh, thank the stars,” Reisa sighed, leaning against a wall.

“You sure took your time there,” Brent said.

“Yeah, because I needed to aim for the head. I mean, we don’t know that’s how zombies work here, but I didn’t think that was a good time to test things out.”

“Yeah, but-”

“We can settle that later, mates,” Harry cut in, “We’re not out of the woods just yet.”

Indeed, the slow shuffling of feet could be heard from downstairs.

“We’re already in a good spot,” Brent pointed out. “The stairs will slow them down as a natural choke point.”

Harry nodded. “We can stay at the top and hold them off until… well, I don’t bloody know. Is there another way out? I’m thinking we’re better off just bookin’ it.”

“From the second floor? I don’t think so, unless you jumped out the window,” Ray said, “Maybe if we had a rope we could rappel down the side or something. There might be materials we can use in the other rooms to make one.”

“Go for it. The ladies can help you too. I’ll be holding the stairs with Brent.”

Brent started. “Wait, shouldn’t-” Shouldn’t Ray, who had the most combat experience, be holding the stairs?

But the other three had already left, and two more zombies had shown up at the base of the stairs, raising their ragged, wounded arms in the direction of the living pair upstairs.

“Crikey, here they come!”

Harry quickly moved up to the top step with his own pistol and unloaded it into them.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

The first zombie was propelled backwards as a small spray of pellets hit it, and keeled over from the second blast. The third blast went too high though, straight over the head of the second zombie, making small pockmarks in the wall behind it.

Harry kept trying to fire a few more times before realizing his gun was merely clicking instead of BLAMming.

“Strewth, I forgot this thing only had three shots. You’re up, Brent!” Harry backed up and started reloading.

“Uh, okay!” Brent found himself at the front, facing down the second zombie which was now slowly making its way up the stairs, pink rabbit ears wobbling menacingly.

This was all happening so fast, his mind was still spinning with unanswered questions. Why wasn’t Ray the one holding them off? And Harry’s pistol was apparently a shotgun that only had three shots?

Unfortunately it wasn’t the time for questions, it was time for action. Brent raised his weapon, prepared to strike the zombie with his baseball bat.

But he couldn’t, at least not yet. He had to wait until the zombie got close enough to reach. Such was the weakness of melee weapons.

“Oi, Brent? Why don’t you just shoot it?” Harry asked, trying to remember how to load his rather esoteric weapon in the heat of battle.

It occurred to Brent that maybe he had a better alternative to using the bat.

Did he have enough time to take a gun out of his backpack, though? Maybe. This particular undead specimen was going very slowly, slower than the one Ray had downed. It looked like it had been a rather obese person in life, with a bloated belly that bulged out so much so that its gender was somewhat ambiguous.

Alright, why not? Brent set the “Diminutive Slugger” down on the floor and took out his backpack.

He pulled on the zipper but got no further than an inch when it suddenly stopped short, snagging on the bunched-up fabric of the backpack. Brent tugged at it back and forth but it refused to budge.

Please, no. Why did this have to happen now of all times?

He frantically yanked the zipper mechanism around, trying to dislodge the fabric from it while the fat zombie continued its inexorable climb.

“Uh, Brent? Something wrong?“

Gah, how much longer did he have? Perhaps he should just pick up the bat and-

“Hrgh!” With one mighty tug, Brent finally managed to pull the zipper free, free at last and opened the main pouch of his backpack to take out his gun.

Wait, he had two guns now. Which one should he take out?

“Never mind, I’ve got it!” Harry rushed back over, his shotgun pistol fully loaded.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Brent looked up glumly as Harry blasted the fat zombie down the stairs with three consecutive shots. He would have been too late.

Click. “Damn, I’m out again,” Harry groaned. It seemed like his gun wasn’t very good, but better a crappy weapon than none at all.

Well, Brent already had his backpack open, so he might as well still take out his own. His options were the 357 revolver or the M870 shotgun.

He put his hands on both, observing the descriptive bubbles that popped out:

Remington Model 870

Category

Shotgun Rarity Common Damage 20 per pellet (9 count)

Capacity

5

Firing Modes

Pump Action

Attachment slots

Optic, Lower Rail

The M870 is a staple weapon for home defense. This version has a modified slide which can be freely pumped as many times as the user wishes even if a shell is already loaded, for purely dramatic effect.

S&W .357 Magnum Revolver

Category

Pistol Rarity Uncommon Damage 64

Capacity

6

Firing Modes

Semi-Auto

Attachment slots

Optic, Stock A classic revolver known for its sheer stopping power.

According to the stats, the revolver did more damage. Or did it? The damage for shotguns was weird. But the thing with the revolver was that he had to hit them with it, and he had just seen Harry achieve great success with a shotgun style weapon without needing to aim much.

The shotgun it was then. Brent pulled it out and pumped it.

Weapon M870 Shotgun (5/5)

He spotted another zombie walk into view through the gaps in the railing and took aim at it.

He considered firing now before it reached the stairs, but the rail supports would probably get in the way of his shot.

Hm. This felt like a similar dilemma with the bat where he needed to wait for them to get closer, only not nearly as bad.

He heard rapid footsteps echo through the hall downstairs, and tensed up. Was it a person?

The runner came into view: a zombie, not a person. It passed the other undead and then stopped for a moment, briefly shifting about restlessly. Besides the rabbit ears, this one also had shiny red sneakers on its feet.

It looked at Brent, snarled, then started dashing up the stairs.

“Whoa!” It was going much faster, already halfway up.

Brent turned and fired.

BOOM! The shotgun jerked up in his hands, nearly slipping out of them from the recoil he hadn’t been expecting.

A group of holographic number 20s appeared above the zombie as it was literally blown away by the shot, tumbling down to land at the bottom on top of the fat one.

A dialog box appeared near the top of his vision:

Zombies Killed: 1

Ah, so that’s how Ray knew he had killed the one before.

The good news was, the shotgun had taken this zombie out in a single shot, so it was pretty good as a weapon. Brent decided to keep it equipped.

The bad news was, there were fast zombies now. Well, they had been warned about them earlier in Dombey’s announcement, but it was only now that he was experiencing the reality of it.

The not-fast zombie passed the railing giving Brent a clear view- and a clear shot at it. Ka-CHACK! Brent pumped the slide on his shotgun and fired again.

BOOM! He was prepared for the recoil this time so it wasn’t as jarring.

Unlike him, the zombie was not prepared for the spray of pellets that came its way. Some of them missed or just grazed it, but some struck solidly into the body producing a couple more blue tinted number 20s. One of its pink rabbit ears was clipped off, and the walking corpse staggered back to hit the wall behind it.

It didn’t fall over, though, and Brent’s zombies killed counter didn’t tick up.

So it was still alive. Did it have more HP than the fast zombie? Perhaps, or maybe it didn’t get hit by the same number of pellets. Brent hadn’t been counting but it looked like there had been fewer damage numbers popping up on his second shot.

Ka-CHACK! BOOM! Brent took a third shot, riddling the zombie with more holes, and it dropped to the floor.

Zombies Killed: 2

Hey, he was starting to get the hang of this.

“Nice job, Brent,” Harry praised, now back at Brent’s side. “You’re killing it! Or killing them, I should say.”

Their ordeal was far from over, however. A distant chorus of low groaning could be heard from downstairs, as well as the constant thumping of however many of the zombies were still banging on the door. Brent pumped his shotgun and waited.

A few tense minutes passed, but no new zombies appeared, giving the two of them a brief respite. Brent saw the weapon indicator in the corner of his vision:

M870 Shotgun (2/5)

Only two shots left. Well, it might be a good time to reload so he didn’t run out in the heat of battle.

With Harry to cover him, Brent went to his backpack again and opened up one of the red boxes, taking out three shells and loading them in.

M870 Shotgun (3/5) M870 Shotgun (4/5) M870 Shotgun (5/5)

Much better.

Brent heard the voices of Ray, Karisma, and Reisa behind him, discussing something, but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.

“How’s it going, mates?” Harry called over to them, but got no response.

“Huh, what are they doing back there?” Harry wondered. “Stay here and keep watch Brent, I’m gonna go see what’s happening.” He turned to leave.

A pit formed in Brent’s stomach. “Wait, do you really have to?”

Splitting up further, even if it was quiet like now, seemed like a really bad idea.

Harry shrugged. “They might need help with something.”

“But- I don’t know if I can do this by myself,” the boy blurted out.

“You’ve been doing a fine job so far, mate.” Harry patted him on the shoulder. “Look, I’ll be back in a flash.”

“You promise?”

Harry nodded. “Promise,” he replied without hesitation, and then went into one of the second floor rooms.