Page 6 of Zombie Immunity


  Chapter 1

 

  Four months without paying a single bill. Gas, electric, rent, Dan Kelly had gotten fed up and said fuck it all. Rather, the drunk version of Dan Kelly said fuck it all. Now it was time for sober Dan to face the consequences.

  One suitcase, it was all Dan had to bring as the two police officers escorted him out to the street.

  "This place was a shithole anyways!" Dan yelled back at his neighbors, a mob of people all peering at him. They hid behind their front doors, like they were shields that would save them if he decided to go crazy.

  "Come on, keep moving," one of the cops said, jabbing Dan out the front door of the apartment complex.

  The streets of Manhattan were bustling with life. People ran back and forth, carrying shopping bags and briefcases. Horns were going off everywhere, anyone not from the city might think a bomb had just gone off and people were fleeing for their lives, but that was just the way it was. New York is home to some of the most aggressive drivers on earth; blaring the horn is just a way of life for them. All of this activity loomed in the shadow of skyscrapers that towered into the sky and cast shadows across the city. They went on and on forever, neatly lined up in rows against the street curb.

  "There is a shelter down on Thirty-first and Third," one of the cops said, climbing into the driver’s seat of his squad car. "They will take you in and help get you back up on your feet. I don't want to see you around this neighborhood until then."

  "Thank you officer, but you know what? I think there is a donut shop just down the road, on the corner of suck my dick and fuck off." Dan said, flicking the cop the bird.

  The police officer stood back up out of the car and acted as if he were going to go after Dan but thought better of it. "I mean it, Dan, move along."

  Dan would have gladly gone a few rounds with the cop, socked him one good right in the nose, but who wants to be stuck in a smelly old jail cell for the next two years? In the end he decided to suck up his pride and walk away.

  So that is just what he did, Dan began to walk. He walked to the end of the block, then to the next, and the one after that. Dan walked until the sun began to sink and his legs started to ache. He walked past street bands as they played jazz and a range of acoustic genres, past models and businessmen, people from all over the world. Before long it was dark and the bars were full.

  Oh, how Dan wanted to go to the bar, to throw his money down on the table and get a glass of that sweet nectar that would make him the life of the party.

  But Dan had no money, his last paycheck had come four months earlier when he had quit his job. Since then he had drank that away, plus everything his credit card could hold.

  As he got closer and closer to the bar, Dan could smell beer, hear laughter, and sense sweet release in the air. He watched for a while from outside, walking back and forth on the curb looking for change. He was on the verge of having a breakdown when an idea crept into his mind.

  For Dan, it took no courage. He was a man far beyond the ledge, risk was nothing to him, people’s opinions were even less. He leaned his suitcase against a building on the opposite side of the street and marched across to the bar.

  There was a bouncer standing at the door but he paid Dan no mind as he walked inside. The music was loud and the lights were dim, people were packed in tight. It was the ideal environment for what Dan planned to do next.

  Not wanting to look suspicious, Dan walked over and leaned against a window sill, from where he had a good look at everything.

  There was a dance floor to the left of the front door, it was mostly women dancing with a guy or two thrown in here and there. The bar itself ran the length of the place with three young brunette bartenders, working with their backs against a brick wall. The floor was wood and so were all the tables, spread out, taking up a majority of the space. All and all it was a small bar, longer than it was wide.

  Dan spotted what he was looking for as a girl grabbed what looked like her boyfriend and dragged him out to the dance floor. He had left his beer behind.

  Looking as nonchalant as he could, Dan walked over and swiped the beer from the table. Nobody seemed to notice and he was back against the window before anybody could be the wiser.

  The first sip was heaven, it always was. His mouth began to tingle and his stomach filled with butterflies, he was like a kid getting pushed on a swing at the playground. Before he could bring the bottle down to his side, he was already lifting it for another sip. His troubles were getting farther away and his body was growing lighter. It was not long before the bottle was gone and Dan was back on the hunt.

  His second bottle was from a girl who had left it to go to the bathroom. It was only half full and went down fast. After his third he was beginning to feel tipsy, he wanted to find a fourth to make sure the feeling didn't go away. On his seventh he went out to the dance floor and danced with a pretty blonde who had been eyeing him. It was not until his eleventh beer that he got caught.

  Dan walked up to a table that was full of people and grabbed a beer that belonged to a guy who was still sitting there.

  "It's just a sip, it's just a sip," Dan tried to explain through slurred words as he was confronted.

  When the owner reached out like he wanted his beer back, Dan stepped away and took a big chug. The guy responded by grabbing a fistful of Dan’s shirt. The bouncer was soon on top of them.

  "What's going on here?"

  The guy let go of Dan and took a step back. "This guy walked up and stole my beer."

  Dan held the beer low so as to hide it from sight. "This fucker doesn't know what he's talking about," he said sounding as completely drunk as he was.

  "I saw it too, he walked right up and took it," a chubby brown-haired girl said from the table.

  Dan gasped as though he had just been betrayed by a dear loved one, "What? Sir, that woman is a bitch!"

  "I think he has been stealing beer all night," said another man from a few tables over. "I had one go missing earlier and so did my friend."

  "Fuck you!" Dan blurted.

  "Alright, that's it, you're out of here," said the bouncer, grabbing Dan by the arm and dragging him towards the door.

  Dan chugged the beer as fast as he could before being shoved out into the street. As he stumbled, the beer fell from his hand and shattered on the pavement. Luckily he had sucked down every last drop before he had dropped it.

  Reflecting back, his beer stealing operation had turned out pretty good.

  He was in a bubbly haze as he walked back across the street. His briefcase had been knocked over and opened but that was okay, he just tucked his second pair of blue jeans back inside and moved on.

  Where to sleep? It was the only question he had on his mind. What a liberating experience: could this be the way to become a kid again? He began to laugh and jump around, twirling his briefcase as he went down the street.

  He looked into the black window of a mirror as he passed, seeing himself in the reflection. He was just below six foot tall, with dark black hair that was streaked with gray near his sideburns. Gray! He was only twenty-six years old; gray hair shouldn't be popping out at that age.

  He wore a white, button up shirt with a loosened tie and overcoat. Anybody passing him on the street would think he had just come from a long day’s work.

  "The big apple, baby!" he yelled, picking up a rock from the ground.

  He turned back to the window, throwing the rock at his own image. Nothing happened, the rock just bounced off.

  Dan stood there for a moment, waiting to see if the glass would break... Nothing.

  "Well, fuck you too, then!" he said before walking on.

  By the end of the next hour, Dan had found himself wandering through Central Park. It seemed like the best place to lay down and go to sleep, so that's where he went. With every step he took away from the buildings it grew darker and more quiet until he could hardly see where he was going. Dead leaves crackled under his feet and the
wind bit at his ears, but he didn’t care. This was his party and nothing was going to ruin it.

  There was a cluster of trees next to a bridge made of stone. Dan wound his way into the trees, finding the softest spot he could and laying down. He turned his overcoat into a blanket and the pants inside the briefcase into a pillow. His last thoughts were of fun and freedom.

  Life was good.

  Click here to see Hurricane Dan on amazon.

 
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