Author's note: This is a part 2 to my story "Spies + Zombie Training = Really Big Bonuses (Part1)". So if you haven't read that story yet, maybe check it out because there will be spoilers. If you don't want to, have no fear, a recap, and a fantastic day! Thanks for reading :)
Recap: Agent Lincoln and Agent Connors are secret agents that work for rival organizations. They were both dumped into a zombie farm along with other agents to prepare for a possible zombie apocalypse with a warning to be out before night. They had a contest, killing many zombies with ease. Near the end of their training, Agent Connors discovered a hole in the fence, leading to the farm going on total lockdown.
Location: Inside of Pal’s Friendly Zombie Farm
“What the hell happened?” I demanded.
Agent Connors held up her hands defensively. “What makes you think I did something?”
I glared at her.
“Okay, but it wasn’t my fault. I discovered that there was a hole in the fence and that a zombie might have gotten out and radioed it back to Ms. Director.” She shrugged. “Guess they must have to shut down the farm because of it.”
I grabbed Agent Connors’ shoulders and shook them wildly. “It’s night now. We weren’t supposed to be out here at night. Do you know what happens to the zombies at night?”
I released her. “Me neither. I wasn’t paying attention when I was told. I was hoping you did."
She snorted. “Haha, nope."
A deep howl echoed through the farm. “Wow, what was that?” Agent Connors asked. “I didn’t know they had wolves in here.”
Twitching with limbs bending at all the wrong angles, zombies stalked towards us. Their bones snapped and reformed into something even less humane than a zombie.
“They don’t. Look.”
Location: Inside of Pal’s Friendly Zombie Farm
“No. Nah. Nope. No bueno. No. Zombie-werewolves? Are you kidding me? Are you freaking kidding me? I better get a hell of a bonus out of this,” I exclaimed as a zombie-werewolf lunged at me. I dodged and kicked them in the gut.
Looking at the zombie-werewolves, I gagged. They looked like someone put a person, piece of rotten fruit, and a dog into a blender then baked it in a broken person-shaped mold. Most of them were still transforming. They had random patches of fur growing out of every pore, jagged teeth, green skin peeling off, and somehow cute puppy-dog eyes.
“Actually,” Agent Lincoln began as he cut open a zombie’s stomach. Someone’s half-digested hand fell out—along with a really nice, not digested, diamond watch. “Since they were zombies first, they’d be werewolf-zombies.”
“Whatever. Can you grab that watch for me?”
Agent Lincoln looked dumbstruck at my request. “It’s covered in zombie guts, Agent Connors.”
“It’ll wash off.”
He rolled his eyes, and bent to get it when a fully transformed werewolf-zombie approached him. Looking around, all of them had finished their transformations. In defense, Agent Lincoln jabbed his lucky combat knife into its soft flesh, but nothing happened. He twisted the knife, but enough to earn a pain-riddled moan from the werewolf-zombie.
“Come on, it’s not that hard,” I complained, aiming my gun. “Watch me.” I shot dead in the left eye. The werewolf-zombie’s head flew back. It was easy, until, it brought its head back, a healing hole where I shot it.
My eyes widened. That kind of shot would have killed instantly back in the daylight. Just how were we supposed to kill these monsters?
Still moving, the werewolf-zombie grabbed Agent Lincoln’s head with one clawed hand, picked him up, and chucked him a good ten feet.
They’re crazy strong too?
I paled. Something spread through my veins. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
In a groaning mess, Agent Lincoln tried to pick himself up. Cursing, I rushed over to him, slinging his bruised body over my shoulder. “I was not expecting that,” he grunted, spitting out a little bit of blood with his words. “Worst apocalypse training, ever.”
“Actually, since one—maybe more—got out, it’s a real apocalypse now.”
“Great, at least now I get to have the dignity of dying in a true apocalypse because that makes it so much better.” His expression softened a bit. “No one else came to the Entrance Tubes to leave. We’re the last ones, aren’t we?”
The mob of werewolf-zombies hustled towards us. “Probably. If we can’t kill them anymore, we need to find somewhere to hide until they let us out.”
As I shifted his body weight so we could run together, Agent Lincoln said in his most dramatic tone, “You should leave me. I’m injured. I’m dead weight.”
“It’s cute how you think you haven’t been dead weight for me since the beginning.”
“Didn’t I save you from being kicked around in a trash can by a bunch of zombies earlier?”
“Huh, you know, I don’t recall.”
Time: 20: 51
Location: The ‘Store’ Store Inside Pal’s Friendly Zombie Farm
As Agent Connors threw a box of cold cuts down the stairs, knocking and blocking all the werewolf-zombies from the second story of my previous hideout. Luckily, my old fort made from a surplus of sweaters and stockpiled with cold cuts stayed strong while I was away. I collapsed onto a makeshift bed of sweaters. “What kind of store is this? All it has is random things.”
“Honestly, I have no idea. Pal couldn’t seem to stick to a theme. I just call it the ‘Store’ Store.”
She plopped beside me. “Lame. What’s going on with your injuries?”
I placed a hand over my chest. “Of, it’s just terrible. I don’t think I’ll survive the night.”
“Uh-huh.” Without warning, she flipped up my shirt, tracing her hand over my chest to feel out my wounds.
A scandalized me gasped. “Consent? WHERE?”
“I’m checking out your wounds. Don’t be so dramatic.”
“If I did this to you, a girl, you’d a have a cow.”
“Fine.” Agent Connors flopped the shirt back down. “It’s just some bruises, you big baby. I can’t believe you made me carry you here for just bruises.”
“They still sting,” I said defensively.
The sound of werewolf-zombies tearing the cheap desk apart echoed throughout the second floor. “I don’t think we’ll be able to stay here for much longer.” Agent Connors glanced around. “Is there another exit?”
“Uh, yeah,” I stood and opened the window. Pointing to a large box of sweaters to cushion the fall, I said, “That.”
“Well, cowards first.” And she shoved me out the window.
Location: The Fake Jewelry Store in Pal’s Friendly Zombie Farm
I traced my hand over a jewelry counter covered in dusk. “What are we even doing? Just running from place to place, hiding out from werewolf-zombies so that we don’t know how to kill until our bosses come to pick us up like children from daycare.”
Agent Lincoln slapped a fifth watch on his wrist. “Pretty much.”
“Weren’t you judging me for wanting a watch earlier?”
He slapped on a sixth. “These aren’t in zombie guts.”
“Sorry I’m not all prissy and proper like you,” I said sarcastically.
Cooling down a little, I sat in a puffy chair in the store’s corner. Still high over head, the moon mocked us. “It’s not even a full moon,” I complained. “Why would they transform?”
“They must do it every night.”
Before, I could open my mouth to complain more like I had so obviously earned the right to, something was scratching at the front door. Alarmed, I pushed the chair in front of it, then sat on it again for good measure. My hands repeatedly folded over themselves in my lap, sweat oiling them. “Ew, why are my hands so sweaty? It’s not even that hot in here.”
“You’re probably just nervous.”
I laughed. “Haha, that’s funny, but I don’t get nervous. I once sniped three guys with one bullet from three hundred feet away in a crowd full of people and never got caught, but sure, Agent Lincoln. This ‘makes me nervous’.
“Good for you, but you’re still nervous. Or scared. Look.” He pointed at my jittering left leg.
I pressed my elbows on it, leaning my head on them in the most casual position I could manage. I gave a weak smile. “See? I’m not scared.”
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he mocked, while slapping on a seventh watch. They were traveling into upper arm territory. It was unsettling.
“What about you? You’re fiddling with those watches to distract yourself. I can see the waterfalls of sweat on your forehead from here. And your watch arm is trembling. You’re scared too.”
“Alright, fine. I’m scared,” he snapped. “When that werewolf-zombie chucked me, it was the first time I’ve realized I could die in years.”
More banging came from the other side of the door. “What are we even waiting for? Them to come a get us? Do you think there’s even a world left out there? We don’t know when the first zombie could have gotten out, or how many.”
“At least we have food in here to survive for a while.”
The werewolf-zombie punched a hole straight through the door. “Jesus.”
I leapt off the chair, and took cover behind a jewelry counter. Big mistake. Without my weight added, the mob easily pushed the door open. Agent Lincoln leapt next to me.
As the werewolf-zombies crept their way in, sniffing for us, Agent Lincoln whispered, “Are there any exits?”
I surveyed the store. Nothing. Not even a back room. “No, we’re trapped.”
His breathing quickened. “This is it. We’re gonna die. Just like all the other agents. I hope our organizations go bankrupt.”
“Definitely.” As the werewolf-zombies got closer, their eyes twitched, listening for us. I held a finger to my lips and the conversation halted.
One of them paused as they sniffed the air on the other side of the counter. Suddenly, I was keenly aware of that fact that my last meal was anchovy pizza. Smelly, anchovy pizza. God, my sweat probably smelled like it too.
That stupid pizza was about to kill me.
Despite my panicking, the werewolf-zombie moved on after a few seconds. I exhaled, and gave Agent Lincoln a weak, relieved smile.
Though it was short lived when another tall werewolf-zombie walked over. I squished closer to Agent Lincoln to keep my body out of its line of sight. His anchovy-less breath was hot to my skin. Now there was a man who knew how to pick his last meal.
I gazed up at him, feeling his heartbeat through our thin, tattered clothes. He glanced at me, returned my previous smile, then closer his eyes and moved towards my face…
I shot up and exclaimed, “Did you just try to kiss me?”
Panic flashed across his face. "It's what people do in the movies! I'm panicking. I've never panicked before."
"This is real life," I shouted. “And where’d your consent go, Agent Lincoln? Huh? Huh? Guess what, you’re now that creepy twenty-something guy making the moves on a teenage girl. If we get out of here, I’m so going to report you to the police as a predator.”
“One: when you say it like that, it sounds so much worse because I'm twenty-two and you're nineteen. Two: I’m not a predator. Three: we’ve both done things worse than being predators.”
I placed my hands on my hips with a snarl on my lips. “Like what?”
I laughed. “Oh my god, I totally forgot killing people is part of my job description. It’s just so crazy.”
In a mocking tone, he said, “Totally.”
So anyway… the werewolf-zombie noticed my outburst. All of them did, actually.
“Ah… hello,” I said. They weren’t very friendly in return.
The closest one lunged over the counter, reaching for me. “Get away, you creep,” I screamed.
I shot at it, but it only momentarily stopped it with the force of the bullet. I clicked the trigger until the gun was empty. I was out of clips too. Well, shit.
I chucked the gun at its head. By now, the other werewolf-zombies had come over to join in on the fun and games.
Of course, Agent Lincoln was useless, just chucking knives like that would do anything. Pretty soon, he was out of things to throw as well.
At the same time, we had the same idea. We reached into the jewelry cases and started throwing fancy watches and bracelets in a last ditch effort. “Take this!”
After being hit by a silver pair of earrings, a werewolf-zombie, groaned and staggered back, covering its face with its hands. When it removed them, it revealed a huge new, oozing gash on its cheek.
“Agent Lincoln, the silver can injure them because they're werewolves, duh.” I facepalmed. “What else is in here that’s sharp and silver?”
He pulled out a silver letter opener for himself and a sharpened pair of silver knuckles for me. We may just survive this apocalypse. As I slipped on the silver knuckles, I said, “Let’s do this.”
Time: 10:32, about a week later
Location: Inside of Pal’s Friendly Zombie Farm
About a week and several hundred zombie corpses later, a message came booming over the zombie farm. “Attention. The breach has been contained… In other news, the city of New York City no longer exists. Total lockdown has been lifted. All survivors—” The speaker chuckled like it was a joke.
“Asshole,” Agent Connors mumbled as she washed off her silver knuckles.
The speaker cleared his throat. “All survivors please report to the Entrance Tubes for evacuation. That is all.”
“Hey,” I asked as we started walking over to the Entrance Tubes. “You think New York City’s gone because of the breach? Like, did they nuke it?"
“Oh, totally. We’re like, right by there.”
“Do you think they nuked it first to prevent the outbreak, or nuked it after the outbreak?”
“Who knows.” She threw her arms behind her hand. “Let’s just be glad the apocalypse is over and we’re still alive.”
At the tubes, we stopped. Before she got in, Agent Connors turned to me. “Listen, about all the…” She whispered. “‘Fear and feelings’ that went on in there…”
“Pretend that never happened, got it.” It didn’t exactly line up with our line of work anyway. I paused for a second, before quickly adding in one breath, “Letsalsopretendthatkissattemptneverhappenedtoobecauseitwasbasicallyjusttheresultoftoomuchstressinaweirdsituation."
She laughed. “Sure.”
Agent Connors half-stepped into the tube, stopped, then turned back to me. “Hey, Agent Lincoln?”
"What is it?"
"Since the other agents are gone, I guess we'll be seeing even more of it other." She grinned.
With a smug smirk, I said, "And I already loathe every second of it."