Zombie Killa Read online

High-C walked out of the apartment with his dope and car keys.

  “Maybe we should set the place on fire,” he said to Myf.

  “Sure,” he replied sarcastically, “What’s a few more dead bodies?”

  They jumped into O.D., Original Dora, his candy-apple red Isuzu Amigo, and High said, “Fuck!”

  “Now what?” Myf asked, exasperated.

  “I didn’t even have a chance to grab my old school tape.”

  “What?” Myf was so freaked out, he didn’t get it at first. “You have a CD player. Who uses tapes?”

  He paused. “Rhyme Pays! I get it, copkiller. Now drive, motherfucker.”

  “I’d really like some cigarettes,” he said.

  “Drive!”

  “Roll me one,” High said.

  So High-C drove while Myf rolled joints, and lo and behold, he found Ice-T’s Rhyme Pays under his seat. They smoked individual hooters and dug the genius of Ice-T and Evil-E, while the Myfster texted ahead for accommodations.

  They made good time traveling through the Ohio valley until fatty fat fat High-C wanted to stop for lunch.

  “Google me a strip club, fool,” he said, waking the sleeping rap giant.

  “A strip club? We’re on the lam, and you want to look at titties?”

  “Duh. Don’t you?”

  “Well, sure,” Myf said. With a few keystrokes, he found one a few miles ahead, Cadillac’s.

  “An occasion such as this calls for cocaine,” High said.

  “Lunch?”

  “No, a visit to a strip club. You be Metroid. I’m Beetlejuice.”

  “Why I gotta be Metroid?” Myf asked in faux ebonics.

  “Because crazy-ass Beetlejuice needs a bad motherfucker for a bodyguard.”

  “Point made. But why you gotta Dave Chapelle me? You know Metroid is a woman.”

  “Because I’m about to go David Hasselhoff in this motherfucker. Besides, it could be anyone under the Gundam suit. You’re a male Metroid, okay?”

  They ripped a few lines in the parking lot, and Myf got a text.

  “It’s Benjamin Bear and Futuristic Sex Robotz. They say we owe them royalties.”

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  Fanatical heard High-C was coming back to Florida and moved to England.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  Sir-Up was working his lab tech job when he got bored. He had shoulder-surfed his boss’s boss’s administrative password and decided to use it.

  He dug through the top-clearance files until he found a chemical signature that he didn’t recognize. It looked a like a blend of meth, coke, acid and ecstasy, but the research indicated no deleterious side effects and a minimal, short-term addiction at best.

  He copied the files to a USB drive for later. Maybe this shit will chill High-C’s ass out, he thought. Plus it was a pretty revolutionary chemical, and he was tired of making eleven dollars an hour.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  At Cadillac’s, High-C drank too much, managed to eat too much even though he was zooted, talked with his mouthful, and borrowed money from Myf only to ball it up and throw it at girls’ asses.

  The management eventually asked them to leave. High filled his pockets with free chicken fingers wrapped in napkins and packets of Saltines for later.

  Back on the road, Myf got another text.

  “You won’t believe this shit. Nursie’s in Tennessee.”

  “What?”

  “Serial. She and the Doc are visiting his parents.”

  “Location of Karl Olson?” High asked.

  Myf Googled.

  “Uh, he has a weekend show with Beefy in Seattle.”

  “Tell Nursie we’re on our way. Um, warn Doc, rather…”

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  Magitek were making startling discoveries with the Book of the Dead. Apparently, the version they possessed had a spell to raise a heretofore-undiscovered entity with unfathomable power.

  The three joined hands, having memorized their parts of the summoning incantation. They bowed their heads and began chanting. At the crucial moment of their recitation, however, one of them opened their eyes and looked at a picture of MC Router perched on his PC.

  “I love you, Router,” he thought.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  Kristen’s eyes opened wide, even though she was in a deep sleep. She leveled up to a ridiculous degree.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  Myf and High drove straight through to a town on the outskirts of Nashville, where they rendezvoused with Nursehella and Doctor Popular.

  “Whee!” she said, throwing her bags in the back. “Road trip!”

  “Mr. Doctor?” High asked.

  “Not me, guy. All day in a jeep with two stinky guys and a drama queen? I’ll fly,” he said.

  They said their goodbyes, and were back on the road in under ten minutes. Nursehella sat in the center of the backseat so she could look out of the windshield.

  Myf was driving, and High said, “What ya got for me, baby?”

  She reached into her shorts and pulled an eighth of B.C. hydro from her snatch.

  “A little light,” he said.

  “I’m a lady, sir. That’s all I had room for.”

  “Oh, pshaw,” High said. “Wait’ll Karl puts a baby in there.”

  “Uh, yeah,” she said. I plan on waiting. You know, if you didn’t have such perverse requirements, I’d have brought more.”

  “I’ll take your quality over quantity any day, my dear.”

  “You are such an asshole,” she said sweetly.

  “Yeah, about that. Take your shirt off.”

  Myf followed the exchange with silent interest.

  “What?” she said.

  “Sorry, I don’t make the rules,” he lied. “Myf had to do it. I had to do it when I bought the jeep. The first hundred miles have to be topless. Dora is in charge.”

  “Oh, bullshit,” she said.

  “It’s true,” High said. “This is no ordinary jeep. I won it in a bar bet with the bastard sons of Robert Heinlein and L. Ron Hubbard.”

  Playing along, Myf turned the ignition key when she was distracted. The engine killed, and he pulled over to the side.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Out of gas?”

  “No,” High said. “It’s Dora. She demands your shirt.”

  Nursie took her shirt off. “You guys are creeps,” she said. “Let’s listen to my new demo!”

  Before they took off, High-C resumed driving duties. First, he went to Burger King. Then he drove through a full-service carwash.

  “Asshole,” was all she said.

  “You love it,” High told her.

  And she did.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  The objects in Router’s room levitated. She was suddenly spotted all over the place: Youtube, Chatroulette, 106th and Park. She cranked out an entirely new eight-song demo, and it was the hottest female MCing anyone had heard in years. And she did it all while lying in bed, never moving a muscle, heart and lungs included.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  E.P.P. was having an argument.

  “He’s not staying with me,” Sir-Up said. “I’ll stab him in his sleep. He insulted my wife’s dead father!”

  “Well, he ain’t stayin’ with me,” Betty said. “He said I should do sit-ups, and pulled out that Revenge of the Nerds line, “Betty. You’re like a goat”. I’ll stab him in his fuckin’ sleep.”

  “He can stay with me,” MC Wreckshin said. “He usually has good weed, and Myf said Nursehella’s with them.”

  “Like you have a shot,” Bbear said.

  “No, it’s not like that. I have webcams in every room. I’m gonna make a fortune.”

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  In New York, Incredibad received High-C’s minimalist remix of I Think I Might Have Killed The President, and were underwhelmed.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  In Alabama, High again said he was hungry.

  “Hungry for titties and blow,” Myf said.

  “Cocaine?” Nursie said.

  The ripped lines o
ff of her tits, and let her snort some off of a Gortician CD case.

  “Put on your shirt,” High told her. “We’re going to a strip club.”

  “No irony there,” she said.

  But there was a freaky vibe inside. The people all seemed creepy to Myf and Nursie. High-C was nonplussed.

  “I see zombies and stuff a lot,” he told them, unasked.

  They both wanted to leave, but he was spending Nursie’s money on lapdances from women who looked increasingly dead. Plus there was a two-drink minimum, so he had six Heinekens to finish. But when a black girl with fangs took the stage, he said, “Ok, we can go now. Aaliyah’s here.”

  “I don’t know what’s crazier,” Myf told Nursehella. “Him, or this situation.”

  At the jeep, Danielle said, “I want to drive!”

  “Gee, I don’t know,” High said. “You being Canadian and all…do you guys even drive on the right side of the road? Plus we could be violating local ordinances. Sounds risky…”

  She flashed her tits at him again. “Get him high,” she told Myf, taking the keys.

  Chapter 4 – All My Texts Originate In Texas

  Texas was going berserk, starting with Dallas. Waves of weirdness and insanity radiated outward from Kristen in concentric circles, which was odd, because most people expected it to originate in Austin.

  She had grown three feet in height, becoming an idealized SuperRouter. Literally. Dallas internet traffic began to flow through her. She selectively allowed or denied messages, altering others, ultimately keeping the happenings there under wraps.

  The same strange occurrences that plagued Dallas seemed to precede the three on their trip to Orlando. Shortly after nightfall, they stopped at a 7-11 for Zig-Zags. It was there that they learned not to let High-C run into stores.

  He went inside, and they watched through the window as he bought papers and a Hustler, then calmly shot the clerk in the face and walked back out, whistling.

  “Motherfucker was some kind of monster, did you see that?” he asked them.

  Nursie hit the freeway at nearly a hundred miles an hour. “Who gave this motherfucker a gun?” she asked Myf.

  But after she calmed down a bit, she asked them, ”So ya’ll saw it too? I’m not crazy?”

  “No, love,” Myf said. “You’re no crazier than the rest of us.”

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  In Orlando at Geek NASA, laboratory of the Rocket-Propelled Geeks, the growing nerdcore contingent was holding a meeting. Shamus Oddish of Magitek was speaking.

  “…so, basically, we fucked up. We’re not sure what we unleashed, but we know it’s some unspeakable monstrous force.”

  “And it may have taken on the guise of MC Router,” Quartz Relic said. “If not her actual body.”

  “How do we know this isn’t some government psy-op?” Bbear demanded.

  “Please,” Thugmasta J said. “The federales don’t possess this level of sophistication. Besides, why would they expend all of these resources on a couple of nerdcore MCs?”

  “Popcorn!” Spork of RPG announced, distributing bowls of microwave kettlecorn along with The HT and Epic-1.

  “Good point,” Bbear conceded. “Although, I am rather notorious.”

  Shamus continued. “We’ve been gathering reports from the Dallas area. They’re spotty and incomplete, but taken as a whole, they indicate a pattern. We’re seventy-six percent certain that these happenings are expanding outward from Kristen.”

  “There’s something you’re not telling us!” Betty Rebel demanded.

  “You’re right,” Shamus said. “You got me. It’s rather embarrassing, though. When we conducted the ritual, numbnuts here opened his eyes at the end and said her name while looking at her picture.”

  Quartz Relic glowed bright red with embarrassment.

  “Amateur!” Betty yelled. “Only a fucking noob falls in love with Router! And why am I never considered the reigning queen of nerdcore? I’m a better MC than either of those bitches.”

  “You’re my queen,” Bbear said.

  “Shut up,” she said. “You had your chance, little man.”

  “So what do we do?” Wreckshin asked.

  “Keep your eyes peeled, “ J said. If there are strange things afoot at the Circle K, we have a private Livejournal blog set up for reporting.”

  “Livejournal? Who still uses that? Dean Humphries?” Betty said.

  “Who?” Sir-Up asked.

  “Nevermind,” she said.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  Myf and Nursehella were worn to a frazzle. High-C was indefatigable, and insisted that they drive straight through. With unfortunate timing, Nursie began to menstruate, and pulled off of the interstate for Maxi-pads.

  “I’ll go in,” High said brightly.

  “No way, cowboy,” Nursie said. “My body, my choice. I’ll go in.”

  He handed her the copkiller Glock.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah,” High said. “Bring me six bags of Skittles. Use your best judgment.”

  Danielle went to the toiletries aisle and was upset to find only Tampax. Disgusted, she grabbed a box and an assortment of Skittles. At the counter, everything seemed normal at first, so she put the items on the counter and pulled out Karl’s gold card.

  When the clerk started to ring up her order, she saw his face change. She shot him in the chest without hesitation. On impulse, she ran behind the counter and looted the open register, throwing the money and the things she had intended to purchase into a large grocery bag. At the last second, she grabbed a carton of Marlboros.

  She looked at the dead shopkeeper’s face on the way out and was horrified to see that it was back to normal. She ran back to the jeep screaming and crying.

  Myf was awake again and behind the wheel.

  “Go!” she yelled. “I just shot a motherfucker!”

  “We know,” High said calmly. “We were watching.”

  Nursie broke into heavy sobs. “His face! It changed! He was a monster, but when I shot him, h-he turned back.”

  High put his arm around her. “It’s ok,” he said. “We know the truth. Don’t worry about it.”

  “In other news, I got us almost two hundred dollars and a carton of smokes.”

  “Good girl!” High told her.

  “Y’all ain’t about to start smoking’ cigarettes,” Myf said.

  “Watch us,” Nursie said.

  High said, “Hold up, D. We can’t offend his delicate constitution. Hit a rest area, Myf.”

  “Are you crazy?” Myf asked him.

  High-C looked at him pointedly. “Yes. But do you hear sirens?”

  Myf looked in the rearview mirror. “I guess it’s safe.”

  At the rest area, Nursie smoked two and High had five. They were just over the Florida border.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  Router sent an avatar to work in her place, so she could continue becoming. The people in the neighboring apartments were the first to convert to her servants. By the time the travelers had reached Orlando, her legion numbered in the hundreds.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  High-C finally dozed, leaning on Nursie’s shoulder and drooling.

  “Poor baby,” she said with sympathy. When they drove past an exit that said “Washington-Holmes”, he woke up screaming.

  A Delta-Olds 88 with rims like stagecoach wheels pulled up beside them. A monster in a fedora put a bullet through the driver’s side window. Now it was Myf’s turn to scream. On instinct, he turned the wheel hard and Dora bounced off of the car undamaged. The Oldsmobile spun around and hit the center abutment, bursting into flames.

  “Whoo-hoo!” Myf yelled.

  “Fuck yes!” Nursie added. “Okay, okay, Dora kicks ass. I’m glad I took my shirt off.”

  “Myf, we need Washington and Florida peeps, stat.” High said.

  “What about New York and California?”

  “Fuck New York and California.”

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  YT received a text from N
ursehella. “Crisis in the Kremlin. Digital Gangstas needed”.

  With a single email, YT unleashed a thousand hackers with mad skills and axes to grind, all dedicated to defeating Router’s internet censorship.

  Then he called Zealous1.

  “Yo,” Beau said.

  “Z1! YT.”

  “Wazzup, cuz?”

  “Not much, Street Fighter. Listen, you got east coast posse? Bangers?”

  “We deep, jack. I got cliqued up Latin Kings, MS-13, Bloods, Crips. Shit, I got ABs. What’s the issue?”

  “I’m getting firsthand reports of high weirdness from Texas to Florida.”

  “Be specific, man. You can’t shock the boss fighter.”

  “Zombies, dog,” YT finally said, still feeling somewhat foolish at the notion.

  “Shit, caucasoid. That’s all you had to say. I been trainin’ my whole life for this shit. You know your boy is the zombie killa that’s iller than Godzilla. Orlando?”

  “You know this,” YT said.

  “I’m on my way.” Zealous hung up. “Mom, can I go to Orlando?”

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  Beefy got a call from Zealous1 shortly after that.

  “Pack your bags, kid. We goin’ zombie huntin’,” he told him.

  “Shit,” Beefy said. “I was workin’ on a girl.”

  “There will be plenty of girls once we’re done,” Zealous replied.

  Chapter 5 – Florida Sucks

  It was shortly after three in the morning when the intrepid three finally hit Orange Blossom Trail at the outskirts of Orlando.

  “Shit!” Nursie said. “I need to call Karl.”

  She hit “1” on her speed-dial.

  “Hey, babydoll!”

  “Hi, Danielle,” Ultraklystron said. “How are you?”

  “I’m good. But I miss that big ass…brain of yours. Meet me in Orlando.”

  “Come on. You know I have a show. Hold on…”

  He came back on. “Uh, it looks like Queefy just cancelled.”

  “Then just come to Florida. It’s a surprise. We’ll do a show here.”

  “Okay, honeybutt,” he said. “I will.”

  “Love you,” she said, and hung up.

  “Karl’s down!”

  “Yay!” Myf said.

  “I like him best in small doses,” High said.

  “Fuck you, High-C,” Nursie said.

  “Better copyright that phrase, chick,” he told her.