Saturday, September 15, 2018

Rock n Roll Zombies

I found an old story of mine and cleaned it up, so here you are.
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Downtown was as busy as it normally was on a Friday afternoon. Telly’s Comics stood, nestled between Hayden’s Ice Cream Shoppe and Langley’s Loans. Families stepped out of Hayden’s happily holding large ice cream cones while people came from Langley’s with mixed reactions – some getting loans, some turned down. At Telly’s, customers came and went in its usual amount of traffic. Inside, a customer approached the counter.
“How can I help you?” Telly, the owner of this fine establishment, asked.
He was white, bald, and husky with an air of cool. Like his employees, he wore a Telly’s Comics staff t-shirt.
“I called about the Limited Edition Crazy Banana Legs bust.” She said, retrieving her wallet from her purse.
The soccer mom looked around with a smirk having never been in before.
“Of course. We gotcha right here.”
He turned around, reached up, and grabbed a bust of a banana with legs, shorts and sneakers. She was pleased seeing her child’s favorite character. The woman paid. He placed the bust in a box, the box in a bag, and handed it over.
“Thank you. My kid’s gonna love it.” She left with a smile, just like Telly likes.
Some workers stocked shelves with the latest issues while others put the sale tags on the older trade paperbacks. Various customers, if one could call them such, stood around, reading books off the racks. Some of them sat on the floor, reading. Would they actually be making a purchase? Who knows?
Towards the back, a group of guys sat at a table playing a fantasy card game.
“No, man, you couldn’t have played the Yeti card because I had already played the Snow Wizard.” One of them said with an exasperated shrug. “Duh.”
Within the group sat Jeremy, a young metalhead who would come to Telly’s to pass the time in such fantasy games. Most of the kids he played with/against were strangers, though there were some regulars. The young man was of a heavier build with glasses and a goatee. A notification on Jeremy’s phone dinged.
“Hold up, guys.” He looked down at his phone, shocked. “What!? No way!” He held his hands out, interrupting the game. “Guys, I gotta go.”
“Aww man.” The collective of geeks groaned in unison.
Jeremy left the table, making a call, while the others threw their cards down as if in a grueling poker game.
“Hey.” Chris answered.
“Hey, you at work?” Jeremy asked, leaving Telly’s.
“No, I’m off.”
“Good. Meet me at Buy’em N’ Bag’em.” He hung up and moved on.

Outside the grocery store, Buy’em N’ Bag’em, customers entered and left. Some workers brought groceries out to customers’ cars while others brought carts back in. Inside, Galen stood at the end of a checkout line, bagging groceries.
“Here you are. Have a nice day.” He told a young woman with a smile.
Jeremy entered, followed by Chris. Galen saw them and met them to the side.
“What’s up, guys?” He asked them while making sure his smock was tight and right.
“Okay, so what’s the big deal?” Chris asked.
Jeremy could hardly contain his excitement.
“Guys, they’re coming! Extra-Terrestrial Death Strike are finally coming to the Midwest!”
“How did you-?” Galen’s question was cut off.
“Look!”
Jeremy held his phone up to the two of them, showing the banner ad for the tour, complete with the band’s logo and mascot, an alien skeleton holding a guitar. Using his thumb, he scrolled down to show them the tour listing just below the banner.
Chris and Galen joined Jeremy’s excitement.
“Holy crap!” Chris exclaimed.
“All hail the kings of rock!” Galen threw up Devil horns as elderly customers passed by, confused.
Galen’s boss appeared, seemingly, out of nowhere.
“Hey! You’re on the clock!”
“Whoop, gotta go!” Galen left to return to bagging.
“I better go. I still got stuff to do. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Chris left.
Jeremy started dialing, “I’ll call you later. I’m calling for tickets right NOW.”

Extra-Terrestrial Death Strike’s tour bus hurled down the road with their logo on its otherwise silver and black exterior. The image of the alien skeleton holding a guitar was sharp and bold with “ETDS” over it in a toxic green.
Inside, the four band members hung out and talked about the show. Dave, the guitarist; long red hair and a clean shave. Freddie, the singer; short black hair and a mustache. Lee, the bassist; long dark hair, a soul patch, and glasses. Mike, the drummer; long dark hair, a long goatee, and stocky while the other three were thin.
“Pipes good to go?” Dave asked.
Freddie belted out in a falsetto, “YEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”
“Alright! Sounds like it!” Lee nodded.
Mike came from the back looking rough.
“Oh man, what the hell was that? That was so sharp it’s piercing into my mind.” The drummer said, holding his head.
Freddie’s head cocked back. Dave and Lee joined the look.
“Hey, fuck off; I hit those notes just right!”
“Nah, man, it’s my head. I feel like I caught something.” Mike looked sick as a dog.
“I told ya not to be messin’ around with them groupies.” Dave shook his head.
“Don’t gimme any of that Happily Married Man crap.” Mike was getting irritated.
“I’m just sayin’, you either get the good one all the time or you get some okay ones some of the time.” Dave shrugged, nursing his beer.
“Eh, whatever.” Mike continued to hold his head with one hand and his stomach with the other.
“Dude, you gotta be able to play tonight. This is a special gig. We’ve never played out here before.” The bassist said.
“Yeah, man, how are we supposed to take over the world? We gotta hit everywhere.” The singer declared.
“I can do it. I’ll be fine.” Mike nodded, his stomach visibly and audibly rumbling.
“Can you eat anything?” Freddie asked upon seeing and hearing it.
“Eh, I feel like I’m starving but I’m so sick at the same time. I’ll just lay down a bit.” Mike left to the back.
“All right, try that.” Lee said, covering his nose and mouth in hopes that he didn’t catch it in the course of the conversation.
“All right guys, I’m thinking we should do an album where, instead of being backed by an orchestra like a lot of other bands, we can do one backed by a school marching band.” Dave proposed, excited.
“That would be dope!” Freddie exclaimed. “It could be a concept album!”
“Totally!” Lee agreed.
The music on the radio was becoming more audible to them.
“Bro turn it up! This is my favorite part!” Dave yelled.
The speakers in the bus blasted as the three yelled and headbanged to it.
Mike held his head in his bed, “AAAAGGHH!”

Jeremy’s room was covered in the Extra-Terrestrial Death Strike posters. His CD shelf was loaded with the band’s albums including live albums, rarities, and bootlegs. On top of his dresser, there were figurines of the four band members in rock poses. A stack of vinyl albums sat on a desk. Jeremy stood there while the other two just looked around at everything.
“Just trying to think of what to take to have them sign.” Jeremy thought aloud.
“…If only you had something of the band’s, eh?” Chris quipped.
“Check it out!”
Galen pointed to a t-shirt hung up – the same shirt he was wearing. Chris and Jeremy looked down, wearing ETDS shirts as well.
Galen looked through the vinyl, “Man, you have the coolest set of ETDS I’ve ever seen.”
“Thanks, man.” Jeremy said, sitting amongst his collection. “Yeah, I got two sets of the vinyl each. So there’s one still in shrink wrap and the others I get to keep listening to. I have the CDs too but I like the way the records sound more. The CDs are just too compressed.”
“Whoa.” Chris pointed to an album in the stack Galen was looking through.
“I know, right?” Galen was like a kid in a candy story.
“That’s what I can’t wait to see – him play THAT live!” Jeremy pointed at a poster on the wall with guitarist, Dave, holding his signature ax. “Man, what I’d give to play that guitar…”
“Does he play it on all the albums?” Chris asked.
“Except for the demos before the first album.” Jeremy smiled, holding up bootleg demo cassette tapes. A majority of the posters on the wall featured the band playing live. “Once it got picked up and they started recording their self-titled debut, he spent everything he had on it.”
“I read between both his guitar and his amp being hot-rodded out, he has the loudest setup in rock today.” Galen noted.
“I believe it.” Jeremy laughed, pulling a record out of its sleeve.
“Honestly, I can’t wait to see the drum solo for the night.” Galen said, miming playing drums. A video on Jeremy’s computer showed Mike going crazy on his solo. “He does a different one every show and they’re all incredible! I’ve watched them all online.”
“Man, that 4/4 to 5/8 to 11/8 to 5/4 time change in ‘The Dragon’s Cranium’ is wicked! I hope they play it!” Jeremy said, stoked. “It’s one thing to hear it on the record but to see them pull off all the time changes on stage is gonna blow my mind!”
“What about the bass solo in ‘A Door to Forever’?” Chris asked, miming bass playing.
The three fans were animated, “OH MY GAAAAAAHHH!”
A lunchbox was opened revealing some pre-rolled joints.
“Marathon listen?” Galen asked, eyeing his friends.
“Yup, Death Strike binge.” Jeremy said matter-of-factly.
“We gotta do it, man.” Chris turned off the light.
Galen sat down in a beanbag while Chris sat in Jeremy’s computer chair. Jeremy manned the record player.
“We haven’t done this in forever.” Jeremy shook his head.
“I don’t care. Drop the needle.” Galen commanded.
“Alright. First album coming up.” Jeremy set the record.
The albums were all spread out, a string of heavy metal art that would excite any artist. The three guys were as high as kites in the room’s cloud while the tunes blasted from the record player.

Back with the band…
Mike was still sick, and growing sicker, back in his bunk while the rest of the group talked.
“The money, the girls, the music; best of the three. Go.” Dave threw out.
“Girls. Definitely the girls.” Freddie nodded.
“Money, hands down.” Lee said symbolizing money with rubbing his fingers.
The singer was confused, “Really? Money over broads?”
“Yeah, money. That way, I can always buy more broads.” The bassist joked. They all laughed.
“You guys are horrible.” Dave chuckled.
Freddie looked to Dave, “Jealous, married man?”
“Nope. It’s great from my end. Watching you guys is like watching reality TV.” The guitarist laughed.
“What about you? The music?” Lee asked.
“Of course. It’s always about the music; the look, the sound, the art, all of it.” Dave explained.
“We’d ask him but I’m sure all three options would be covered in vomit by now.” Freddie laughed, motioning to the back.
“I think you’ve got a point, though, because without the art there is no money and no girls.” Lee thought aloud.
“Very true indeed.” Freddie nodded.
Mike emerged from the back with the movement of a decrepit old man. He instantly vomited.
“Guys, I’m not doing so good.” He looked up from his puke with his stomach rumbling loud. “Ugh. So. Hungry.”
The drummer vomited some more with straining heaves. The three jumped back, looking at him, disgusted.
“Well, we still have a bit. Take some more medicine and go back to bed.” Freddie suggested.
Mike turned back to return to the bunks.
“Yeah, man, get your rest.” Dave said.
“Don’t die, dude!” Lee told him.
“Shut up!” Mike said exiting. The three laughed.
“Suck ass dude.” Freddie chuckled.
The bus continued down the highway.

Chris called his boss on the phone, “Uh, Mr. Whitaker sir? I’m not gonna be able to come in for the weekend shift this week… Yeah, see, my grandma’s real ill and my parents volunteered me to help her around… Okay, great. I’ll see you next week.”
Galen called his boss as well, “Hey, Angela, I’m not gonna be able to make it in… My grandma’s real ill and…”
Angela wasn’t happy on the other end, “Your grandmother has died three times since you’ve started working here. Your grandfather died twice. You even killed off your sister to go to a kegger. Bottom line, show up when you’re scheduled or you’ll be fired.”
Galen thought of two images: rocking out in the crowd at the band’s show and him bagging groceries.
“Oh, okay. I quit.” He said with a shrug.
“What?” Angela asked, unheard.
Galen hung up the phone. Chris and Jeremy were shocked.
“You just quit your job?” Jeremy asked.
“Yeah, she’s not keeping me from seeing Extra-Terrestrial Death Strike.” Galen scoffed.
The other two looked at Jeremy.
“All right, it’s up to you now.” Galen told him.
“What. I don’t have a job.” Jeremy shrugged.
“But you paid for the tickets.” Galen said with uncertainty.
“Yeah, after my mom died, I got a buttload of money.” Jeremy clarified nonchalantly.
“Oh.”
Jeremy looked at Galen like he was nuts, “You didn’t know?”
“Nah, I just assumed you were…” Galen struggled to find the words.
“That I was what? Dude, we hang out all the time.” Jeremy shrugged.
Galen looked at Chris, “Did you know?”
“Of course.”
Galen threw his arms up, “How am I the asshole friend all of a sudden?”
“It’s cool, bro. You’re always the asshole friend.” Jeremy said with a hand on Galen’s shoulder. The three laughed.

The tour bus arrived at the venue.
“All right! Let’s do this!” Freddie yelled.
The stage crew were setting up, constructing the stage. Roadies lugged the band’s gear around. Techs prepped the instruments. The opening band, The Cogless - a three-piece punk group – hung out backstage. ETDS entered the area, greeting them.
“Hey guys!” Billy, The Cogless’ singer-guitarist, said.
“What’s up, man?” Lee greeted.
Dave and Billy high-fived.
“You guys ready to rock this joint?” Dave asked, excited.
“Hell yeah, man. We’re gonna tear it down!” Billy declared.
The Cogless’ drummer, Tommy, looked around.
“Where’s Mike?”
“He’s back in the other room, puking his guts out.” Freddie said.
“He’ll be out there.” Lee nodded.
“All right, dudes, we’re gonna head back and get ready.” Dave told them.
“See you out there.” Freddie patted Billy on the shoulder.
“Knock ‘em dead!” Lee yelled. ETDS exited.
In their dressing room, the band sat in their respective makeup chairs in front of mirrors, dressed in their rock attire with girls applying makeup.
“So, you girls coming to the aftershow?” Lee asked them.
“Ohhh, I gotta pick up my kids.” The girl frowned.
“Booo!” Freddie blurted.
“I know. I know. But Janet will be, though.” The makeup girl stated.
“Hell yeah, I will.” The second makeup girl said, proud and excited.
“I like that.” Lee nodded. “Bring your friends.”
Down the line, a third makeup girl was trying her hardest to apply makeup to Mike, looking even sicker.
“Uhhh, I don’t…” She was disgusted. “I can’t… Uh, ew.”

The three super fans parked at a gas station to get fuel. They noticed some rather attractive ladies passing by.
“Hey, check it out.” Galen nudged the others. The ladies took notice of them.
“So, what are you guys doing?” One of the girls asked, approaching them.
“We’re on our way to the ETDS show.” Jeremy answered.
The girls stopped and looked at each other, put off.
“Eww, you guys listen to that?” They asked and looked at the three’s shirts. “Later…”
The girls left. The guys got back in the car and started it.
“Aww man.” Chris was bummed they got snubbed.
“Who cares?” Galen scoffed. “They’re finally playing here for the first time!”
“WOOHOO!” Jeremy yelled.
They got over the rejection in no time. The car cruised down the road with purpose.
“This is gonna be amazing!” Jeremy could barely contain his excitement.
“I tried to find the setlist online but they’re kept secret.” Chris informed them.
Jeremy drove, Galen was in the passenger seat, and Chris sat in the back.
“Okay, what’s the one you hope they do? Like, your must-have.” Jeremy asked.
“Ooo, mine would have to be ‘The Fading Life’.” Chris said.
“Good one.” Galen fist-bumped Chris. “Mine is ‘Skulls & Horns’.”
Jeremy chuckled, “Yeah, but dude they haven’t played that live since ’95. It’s a thirty minute song.”
“Hey, it’s just one I WANT to be played.” Galen shrugged. “Other than that, I’ll pick the instrumental, ‘Mutual Matadors’. What about you?”
Jeremy motioned to the song on the stereo and turned it up, “This one right here, ‘The Deaf & The Dead’!”
They continued down the road with music blasting. The three sang along while playing their air instruments. When they approached the venue, they saw the crowd, huge and growing.
“Here we go, boys!” Jeremy said, pulling in.

The crowd went crazy, cheering, “WOOOO!”
A group of stoners convened.
“All right, man, we got enough to keep us high all night.” The man said, pointing his finger with a pulse.
“Far out!” The woman beside him said.
One of the many security guards threw some teenagers out.
“I told you before: No ticket, no show!” He pointed out at them. “If I catch you kids trying to sneak in again, I’m callin’ the cops!”
The Cogless took to the stage with their banner suspended up behind them.
“How you guys doin’ tonight!?” Billy asked the already hyped crowd. “Ready to get this party started!?”
The crowd erupted. Jeremy, Chris, and Galen were with the rest of their brethren.
“I got their first album. Pretty good stuff.” Jeremy told the other two.
Billy returned to the mic, more animated, “1, 2, 3, GO!”
The three-piece burst into their opening song, full of energy. The audience loved it, jumping and moshing.
Among the moshpits and various headbangers, two guys were crowd surfing across.
“Didn’t I see you guys surf a couple of shows back?” A woman beneath them asked.
“We’ve surfed every show on this tour!” The first man answered.
“We finally get to surf the Midwest!” The second added.
“Right on!” The woman said as the two men were moved on in the waves.
The band continued to play, ripping through fast punk-infused rock tunes. They finished the last song of their set as the singer held his arms up to the crowd.
“Thank you for coming, guys! We love you! Rock on!” He told them to a large applause.

Backstage, Freddie stood at the door, “C’mon, boys, let’s goooo!”
The two bands passed each other in the hallway.
“Great show, man!” Freddie said.
“Thanks, guys! Good luck!” Billy said.
“Have a good one!” The Cogless’ bassist, Jones, said.
“Knock ‘em dead!” Tommy yelled, pumping his fist.
Two of the young band members turned into their room, leaving their bassist out in the hall.
“I’ll be in, in a minute.” He said, noticing Mike lagging behind. “Hey, man, you don’t wanna be late! You okay?”
Mike, looking as if he were in the throes of the flu, stumbled forward and bit Jones.
“Ah! You son of a bitch!”
His arm bled from the small chunk now missing. Mike, zoned-out, walked off while the bassist tried to stop the bleeding.
“Someone get me a medic, man!”

Extra-Terrestrial Death Strike emerged onstage to roaring cheers. Their arms shot up, greeting everyone. The audience went crazy. Howls, whistles, and guttural screams came from the crowd. Tops came up almost as quickly as the band arrived.
With their arms still up, Dave leaned over to Freddie, “Where’s Mike?”
The sickened drummer stumbled onto the stage.
“Oh, there he is.” Dave said in a sigh of relief.
The crowd’s cheering echoed sharply. Mike covered his ears and screamed, going unheard. Women continued to flash the band but the drummer had no interest at the moment. The band armed themselves with their instruments, still not noticing the drummer’s dissent into illness. Freddie stepped up to the mic.
“It’s our first time here and it’s an honor to be here! Thank you, the fans, so much! You’re the reason we do what we do! We love you guys! You’re worth all the blood, sweat, and tears put into it!” The singer said throwing Devil horns up to the sky, greeted by thunderous applause.
Mike stumbled forward and bit Freddie’s shoulder, spraying blood across the stage.
“AHHH! What the hell are you doing!?” Freddie pulled back, grabbing his shoulder.
Blood was everywhere and continued to flow from the singer.
“Awesome stage show!” One audience member exclaimed.
The other three tried to intervene but Mike flailed, biting and scratching at them. More blood spilled. The stage was a mess and even the crowd was getting sprayed.
Jeremy, Chris, and Galen watched the show next to blood-covered viewers.
“Dude, this is unreal!” Galen yelled, not being able to take his eyes off of the crimson stage.
Between the band and the crowd, security guards saw the mayhem while trying to keep an eye on the massive audience.
“Man, these guys are hardcore.” One guard said to the other.
“No joke.”
In their crazed state, the band lunged forward and bit the two security guards. The flesh tore and their blood splattered beyond the barricade.
“AAAAAAGGHH!!” They screamed in agony, with their light blue uniforms being drenched with dark red.
“Dudes, I think this is getting a little TOO real!” Jeremy told his friends.
The celebrated band climbed down from the stage and crossed the barricade. The security guards joined them. Some concert goers continued to love the show. Fear came over others. ETDS started biting and scratching random crowd members. Blood slung around, covering everyone near. The bitten were changing at a fast rate.
Dave grabbed a woman’s hand, pulled her in, and stuck it in his mouth. Her excitement died down when he chomped down and pulled it off of the wrist.
“IT’S NOT A SHOW! IT’S REAL!” She screamed, holding up the bloody stump at the end of her arm.
“RUN TO THE HILLS!” A man yelled running from the horde.
“RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!” Another hollered, running in the same direction.
“What is going on?” Jeremy looked around, concerned.
“We’re all blocked in!” The crowd panicked.
“All right now! Back it on up!” More armed security guards were eaten upon trying to keep peace.
“Grab their guns!” It became a riot.
“Guys, you can tell if they’re really zombies if you shoot ‘em in the head and they die!” Another stated.
The other rioters stopped, dumbfounded.
“Okay, don’t give him a gun!” It was decided.
More zombies, the bands and security guards alike, ravaged and infected the audience.

Across the venue, the infected tore people limb from limb, eating them when not infecting others. More people turned. Blood splattered and guts were thrown.
The group with enough to keep them high all night were approached by zombies. They shook, scared, before taking a hit and blowing it out at the living dead. They stopped, looking relaxed.
“Feelin’ better, man?” The stoner asked. The zombies’ stomachs rumbled loudly. “Uh oh…”
The hungry ghouls rushed them.
“Watch out for the munchies!” He yelled before being torn apart with the rest of his crew. Their nappy dreadlocks mixed with the intestines in piles on the ground.

Across the sea of people, body parts were thrown around and caught to be eaten. Zombies with full, bloody mouths stuffed their faces.
“We can’t get out!” Jeremy yelled as the three guys looked at the entrance, blocked with rioting fans.
“HELP ME!” A woman screamed.
She turned to the three and they saw she was missing her arm; a bloody, scraggly stump pumping more liquid. The guys freaked.
“Wrong way! Try that way!” Chris pointed to the side.
“AAAAAHHHH!!” A woman, just flashing earlier, had her shirt off and her breasts had been bitten off.
Another viewer’s skin was being peeled off of his skull. Legs were ripped off of screaming fans. ETDS crouched down to eat the guts out of concert goers. The horde of blood-soaked zombies continued their chaotic meal. Faces and heads alike were ripped off. Bones were even crunched on after being picked clean. Piles upon piles of the dead weren’t turned, just devoured.
More and more in the crowd changed. Their eyes whited out and skin became a cold, pale leathery texture. Corpses rose up with the hunger. The arena’s zombie capacity was exceeding. Jeremy, Chris, and Galen looked around, alert, with the green stench of death visible around them.
“Dude, I can’t believe this is happening!” Jeremy yelled out.
“Don’t let ‘em touch you!” Chris pulled the other two back.
“This isn’t as cool as in the movies! It smells so bad!” Galen covered his nose.
Their eyes stung from the fumes and rubbed them accordingly.
“Well, at least we got to see the opening band…” Jeremy shrugged.
“Yeah, I can see them right now!” Chris pointed.
The Cogless reeked mayhem, zombified.
The girls who snubbed them at the gas station turned their noses up at everyone around them.
“I knew this was gonna be lame.” One said in her snobbish tone.
“Totes.” Her girlfriend agreed.
They didn’t get far before The Cogless tore them to shreds. Their skinny bodies didn’t stand a chance, ripped apart with the greatest of ease. Upon being eaten, the zombie punk band spit out the meat, disgusted with what they tasted. They moved on, leaving the annoyances dead in a pile.
The three Extra-Terrestrial Death Strike mega-fans looked all around them, surrounded by the living dead on all sides. Zombies marched forward with their arms out and hands grasping. Their mouths, still ready to eat. The three looked back and forth to each other with bugged eyes.
Jeremy’s breathing escalated, “Dude, we’re caught in a…”
“ZOMBIE MOSH!” The three yelled out together.

Meanwhile, outside, the security guard and the youngsters he’d kicked out looked at the blocked door, hearing the screams of bloody murder coming from inside.
“Still bummed out you couldn’t get in?” The guard asked.
“Hell no.”
Inside, the mayhem continued. A man and wife, covered in ETDS tattoos and merchandise, stopped in front of their favorite band.
“We’re your biggest fans! We worship you!” They said, bowing to them.
Dave, Freddie, Lee, and Mike all looked at each other with dead eyes and shrugged. They leapt onto their biggest fans and ate them like someone having a first meal after being stranded on a desert island for so long.
The two crowd surfers were still riding high as the chaos beneath them raged higher.
“These waves are getting’ harsh, bro!” One said to the other before the two were pulled down and torn apart.
A woman ran by, blushing and bleeding.
“I can’t believe ETDS just bit me! O-M-G! This is better than an autograph!” As the last word exited her mouth, she made the painful change.

Jeremy, Chris, and Galen huddled up.
“Okay, we gotta figure something out!” Galen said.
“We don’t even have anything to defend ourselves!” Chris shook his head.
“Wait!” It hit Jeremy. “Guys! Remember the ETDS album ‘Too Loud for the Grave’!?”
“Yeah!” The other two got it.
They all pointed to each other, “THE HIDDEN TRACK!”
“We gotta get to that stage!” Jeremy pointed forward.
Chris reached down and picked up a leg and shrugged. He taunted a group of zombies with the bloody limb before throwing it with the ghouls following suit.
Zombies fell over other zombies.
“A little closer!” Jeremy yelled on their trek to the stage.
“Zombie stairway!” Galen pointed to the functioning dead pile.
The three ran over to the mound, running up and over the pile with jaws snapping up at them.
The guys walked the guardrail like a tightrope with infected hands reaching up at their feet. They made it to the bloody stage and turned back to see the venue a sea of chaos. Dead bodies everywhere. Zombies eating everything and everyone, even other zombies. The visible fumes of death. Mike stood, looking up at the stage before his bandmates turned and ate him. The three shook their heads after taking in the sight.
They looked to each other.
“All right guys, you know what to do!” Jeremy threw up the Devil horns. The others replied.
Dave’s famous guitar was on its stand. Jeremy looked to it with light shining down upon it from the heavens.
Chris took to the mic, “Here’s your chance, dude!” He turned out to the audience, “Everyone cover your ears!”
Galen cranked up the volumes on the custom amps.
And then it happened - Jeremy played a riff on the long-admired guitar, fulfilling his dream. The soundwaves shrieked through the air in the sonic volume. The zombies stopped eating and instantly grabbed their ears, freaking out. He kept playing while the other two covered their ears. The creatures screeched. Their heads exploded.
Throughout the arena, more zombie heads burst. Surviving humans ducked and covered their ears as they were splattered with zombie goo. The guys on stage looked out, confused and concerned. The bloody survivors standing amongst the many dead zombies looked up at the stage at the three young fans.
A moment passed and the crowd began applauding. The three were overwhelmed and happily looked at each other before looking back out into the crowd. They raised their arms to the roaring crowd. Everything and everyone was covered in blood and zombie pulp.
Piles and piles of zombies and assorted corpses littered the ground. The crowd cheered and the guys jumped up in victory.
“Yeah!” Jeremy pumped his fist in the air.
The applause was through the roof.

The guard and the teenagers stood outside, hearing the turnaround.
“Aww, man, we missed it!”


        The End.

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