Keep Busy

31.

Roy waited for a few minutes, eyeing the broken windows.

"I do not have the patience for this. Billy, grab one of the kids, take 'em out to the middle of the field and shoot 'em in the head."

Billy was eating one of Sam's arms. "Well, actually, I only just started," he said through a juicy mouthful, "and the other guys got most of the brains already..."

"Fine." Roy rolled his eyes. "Darren! You go."

Darren, a gangly zombie with sunken cheeks and a comically long neck was tearing into Sam's other arm. He looked up. "What? Me?"

"Yes, you! Grab one of the kids, take them out there by Jed's Suburban and shoot 'em in the fucking head. Jesus! Let's get on the ball here, people."

Darren looked at the half-eaten floppy arm in his hands. "Can I take this?"

"I don't care! Just do it now!" Roy screamed.

Darren tore at the arm until it popped from the socket. One of the other zombies quickly ate through the remaining muscle and sinew connecting it to the body. He got up throwing Billy a narrowed, scathing glare and stood in front of the group of teary-eyed children. They all looked the same with those freaky masks on, so he just chose at random.

"You," he said and flicked out a switchblade and cut the electrical tape at Tristen's ankles. "Come on." He dragged him to his feet and pushed him forward toward the clearing. They walked about thirty yards when Darren turned back to Roy and shrugged.

"That's fine," Roy shouted. "They can see you." Then getting back on the megaphone, "I'd like to direct your attention to Darren and one of your little friends out there on the lawn—you are about to witness what will happen every minute until you send Jane out. This is not a warning."

Darren pulled out his handgun, put it to the back of Tristen's head, took another bite of Sam's arm and again looked back to Roy.

"Just fucking do it, Darren!" Roy yelled.

Darren turned back to Tristen whose shoulders were shaking as tears cascaded around his mask.

"So long, kid," Darren said a nanosecond before a bullet shredded the top of his skull. Darren fell over backward, his lanky body landing heavily on the grass, spattering the bright green lawn with deep red.

Tristen, realizing what had happened, was up and running toward the Center in an instant, weaving a serpentine route as a few bullets zipped around him. He stumbled at the front steps and sprawled out on the landing, losing his mask in the process. He reached for it as more shots rang out and quickly decided to abandon the respirator as he bolted for the door and dove through the shattered glass to safety.

"Goddamnit!" Roy's voice rang out across the field.