Destiny Nowhere: A Zombie Novel by Matthew Hollis Damon

Author:Matthew Hollis Damon [Hollis Damon, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severed Press
Published: 2017-10-05T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27: Then

Gunshots rang out up ahead, so I know I’d almost reached safety! I could see muzzle flashes and hear voices laughing and talking at the cross section of Richmond and Geddes. Zombies were dropping, too. I could see them fall.

I cautiously got closer and felt that knot in my stomach again. This wasn’t cops, I saw. It wasn’t any authorities. They were regular men and women, mostly urban black people, hanging around laughing in the middle of the road and shooting zombies. There was a parking lot on the corner and more people hanging out there, too. It looked like a normal Friday night in the ghetto, groups of people just hanging out. Twenty or so of them stood together in the nearest group. I snuck up closer so I could listen in.

“Lookit that dude! He got his eye hanging out.”

“Somebody ate it,” a girl said.

“Motherfuckers eatin’ each other’s eyes out. They not even on they own team!”

“I know this is the government,” the girl said.

“It gotta be.”

“Nuh uh, this got military written all over it,” a new voice said. “I saw it on the military channel. They not zombies, they brainwashed. It’s like the CIA.”

“CIA is still the government, stupid.”

Blam went a gunshot.

“Ohhhh shit, Uncle Tom in a suit, that’s twenty-five points for me!”

“Naw it’s twenty. Whitey in a suit is twenty-five.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right.”

“And that ain’t no Uncle Tom, nigga. Look his shoes—dude’s got dreakers on!”

“Look his hair!”

“My man’s incognito. He’s Agent 007. Five points.”

“If he 007, then he worth fitty points, mother-fuck.”

Blam. Laughter. “Y’all stupid,” the girl’s voice says. “I just got me a little Chinese girl. How much is that?”

“Five points.”

“Bullshit—ain’t no Chinese living round here. That shit at least twenty.”

Blam blam blam. I could see zombies dropping now.

“Bitch you makin’ up rules now.”

“Look here, crooked dick, yo’ ass loses even if you get the most points.”

My heart sank deeper and deeper with every word. Not only were these not authorities, but they were totally useless kids. Probably no older than twenty-five, obviously drunk since they were holding beers, and definitely doomed to make critical errors and get themselves killed in this sort of situation. And I was just some nerdy cracker-ass white guy, as far as they’d be concerned.

I backed away into the bushes of a house and started retreating. I had zero idea where I was going now, but it was definitely somewhere else. The Onondaga Lake Yacht Club was only a few miles from here. That seemed like my best bet, now. Hopefully, I could find a pawn shop along the way and get a gun.

The front door of a house opened just behind me and a black guy came out wearing a jersey with the number 86. He held a shotgun in one hand and a pistol in the other, and without noticing me, he shouted, “Hey yo Darnell, I found it--” He stopped as his eyes fell on me. “Fuck are you doing in my yard, nigger?”

“Oh uh, I’m just passing through,” I stammered.

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