and shook it clean as the faceless cadaver crumbled.
“Not bad, eh?” He grinned breathlessly as he lifted his boot and stamped on the head of the firefighter on the ground. Two down.
“Not bad at all,” Stokes agreed, enjoying the show. “Watch out, here she comes!”
Webb spun around to see the dismembered, armless aberration shuffling closer. It had a lopsided walk and an unusually sad and melancholy expression fixed on its frozen face. Save for its almost translucent skin and myriad of prominent dark purple and blue veins, its torso appeared relatively untouched by decay and he found himself staring at its surprisingly pert, bouncing breasts as it lumbered toward him. When it got too close he rammed the rounded end of the baseball bat forward, hitting it right between the eyes and sending it sprawling back. He viciously lashed out again, the second hard shunt splitting the paper-thin skin which was stretched tight across its forehead. A third smack briefly exposed bare bone before Webb lifted the bat and hammered it down, splitting its skull and permanently stopping it from moving.
“Too easy,” he said, wiping his brow. Without stopping he marched on toward the fourth putrid carcass. This time he used the long shaft of the bat to attack, smashing it into the monster’s right arm with a satisfying thud, then swapping hands and swinging it in the opposite direction, hitting the left side with enough force to shatter bone. The body continued to advance, not able to understand why it suddenly couldn’t use its arms. Webb allowed it to get a little closer, knowing that the worst it could do was stumble into him. He finally shoved it back away then swung the bat around again, smashing into its pelvis. He’d already done more than enough damage to completely disable it but he continued to attack. The corpse found itself on its back, unable to move and looking up at the sun. Webb landed more brutal, bone-cracking blows across its ribs and legs, taking care not to damage it above the shoulders. When it had been completely incapacitated he stepped back and stared at his handiwork. Its head still moved constantly, just as inquisitive and curious as it had been seconds earlier, unable to work out why it couldn’t get up. Rather than end its miserable existence, Webb instead decided to leave it where it lay to watch him. He liked an audience.
Last one. He sized up his final opponent.
“What are you waiting for?” Stokes shouted.
“Watch this,” Webb yelled back. He ran toward the last corpse, swinging the baseball bat again and timing his strike to the head perfectly. Weak flesh tore and withered sinews snapped. Partially decapitated, the diseased creature staggered back, then collapsed on the ground, flat on its stomach but with its head still looking up.
“Nice one,” Stokes said, throwing away his empty beer can and giving Webb a slow handclap. “Here you go, get this down you.” He threw a can over to him, then opened another for himself. Webb drank thirstily.
“Going to do a few more,” he said between gulps.
“Might as well,” Stokes agreed. “Nothing else to do.”
With adrenaline from the satisfying but one-sided fight still coursing through his veins, Webb finished his can, then scrambled back out through the wire mesh. Moving with more speed and confidence now, he jumped back onto the wreck of the taxi again and unceremoniously snatched four more corpses from the edge of the heaving crowd. He rammed them back through the hole in the fence.
“Take your time,” Stokes suggested, standing on the pile of rubble now so that he could get a better view. “Fifty points for a kill, double if you do it with one hit.”
Webb glanced over at him and grinned as he picked up his weapon again.
“Easy. Watch this.”
His next victim was hunched forward like an old crone. Its physical deterioration was such that it was impossible to be sure what age it had been when it had died. Six or sixty, it
“Not bad, eh?” He grinned breathlessly as he lifted his boot and stamped on the head of the firefighter on the ground. Two down.
“Not bad at all,” Stokes agreed, enjoying the show. “Watch out, here she comes!”
Webb spun around to see the dismembered, armless aberration shuffling closer. It had a lopsided walk and an unusually sad and melancholy expression fixed on its frozen face. Save for its almost translucent skin and myriad of prominent dark purple and blue veins, its torso appeared relatively untouched by decay and he found himself staring at its surprisingly pert, bouncing breasts as it lumbered toward him. When it got too close he rammed the rounded end of the baseball bat forward, hitting it right between the eyes and sending it sprawling back. He viciously lashed out again, the second hard shunt splitting the paper-thin skin which was stretched tight across its forehead. A third smack briefly exposed bare bone before Webb lifted the bat and hammered it down, splitting its skull and permanently stopping it from moving.
“Too easy,” he said, wiping his brow. Without stopping he marched on toward the fourth putrid carcass. This time he used the long shaft of the bat to attack, smashing it into the monster’s right arm with a satisfying thud, then swapping hands and swinging it in the opposite direction, hitting the left side with enough force to shatter bone. The body continued to advance, not able to understand why it suddenly couldn’t use its arms. Webb allowed it to get a little closer, knowing that the worst it could do was stumble into him. He finally shoved it back away then swung the bat around again, smashing into its pelvis. He’d already done more than enough damage to completely disable it but he continued to attack. The corpse found itself on its back, unable to move and looking up at the sun. Webb landed more brutal, bone-cracking blows across its ribs and legs, taking care not to damage it above the shoulders. When it had been completely incapacitated he stepped back and stared at his handiwork. Its head still moved constantly, just as inquisitive and curious as it had been seconds earlier, unable to work out why it couldn’t get up. Rather than end its miserable existence, Webb instead decided to leave it where it lay to watch him. He liked an audience.
Last one. He sized up his final opponent.
“What are you waiting for?” Stokes shouted.
“Watch this,” Webb yelled back. He ran toward the last corpse, swinging the baseball bat again and timing his strike to the head perfectly. Weak flesh tore and withered sinews snapped. Partially decapitated, the diseased creature staggered back, then collapsed on the ground, flat on its stomach but with its head still looking up.
“Nice one,” Stokes said, throwing away his empty beer can and giving Webb a slow handclap. “Here you go, get this down you.” He threw a can over to him, then opened another for himself. Webb drank thirstily.
“Going to do a few more,” he said between gulps.
“Might as well,” Stokes agreed. “Nothing else to do.”
With adrenaline from the satisfying but one-sided fight still coursing through his veins, Webb finished his can, then scrambled back out through the wire mesh. Moving with more speed and confidence now, he jumped back onto the wreck of the taxi again and unceremoniously snatched four more corpses from the edge of the heaving crowd. He rammed them back through the hole in the fence.
“Take your time,” Stokes suggested, standing on the pile of rubble now so that he could get a better view. “Fifty points for a kill, double if you do it with one hit.”
Webb glanced over at him and grinned as he picked up his weapon again.
“Easy. Watch this.”
His next victim was hunched forward like an old crone. Its physical deterioration was such that it was impossible to be sure what age it had been when it had died. Six or sixty, it
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