After our altercation with the undead hipsters, I climbed into the passenger seat of Jim Daniels’ car. Officer Reed, Dr. Porter, and Eve were in the back seat. Jim had a tight grip on the steering wheel as the car hurled through the city streets.
“Where are you going?” Eve asked from the back seat.
“The only way I can go,” replied Jim. “The only road out of the city.
“There’s only one road out of this city?” I asked. “Who planned that?”
“Don’t ask,” Officer Reed said through his teeth.
“Well what if those things figure that out?” I asked. “We have to be ready for a trap.”
“I told you I was able to study these things,” Dr. Porter said. “The only brain functions they have left are rudimentary at best. They’re only able to recall basic memories from their past like their favorite flannel shirt or pointless pop culture trivia. I can’t imagine they’d have the capacity to set any sort of trap.”
The car screeched to a halt as Jim jammed the brakes. “Can’t set traps, huh?” he nodded towards the fallen tree in the middle of the road.
“Of course, I’ve been wrong before,” Dr. Porter mumbled.
“It’s just a tree that fell,” Eve said. “They couldn’t have done it, could they?”
“Maybe we can move it,” Officer Reed suggested.
“Well let’s see,” I said as I stepped out of the car. Officer Reed followed me out and we surveyed the tree.
“It does look like it was pushed over,” Reed said. “I don’t see anyone else around here though. Certainly not those things.”
“Yeah, this doesn’t quite make sense,” I agreed.
From out of nowhere, long, tattooed arms grabbed Reed and hauled him into the darkness. He shouted in surprise as I cursed under my breath and gave chase.
The policeman was pulled down into a small ditch where eight or so of the undead creatures stood around, mostly with their hands dug deep into their pockets. If I didn’t know how dangerous they were, I’d think that they were just standing around slacking. I quickly pulled out Betsy and Winona and fired at the head of the one holding Reed.
The creature released its prey as its head exploded. Reed quickly recovered from his initial shock and sprung into action, firing at more of the scenesters with his own firearm.
“What do you have there, man?” one of the hipsters asked. “I heard that 10mm is the new 9mm.”
Reed responded by shooting it in the head. A bloodied trucker’s cap fell to the ground and the policeman hauled himself up the hillside to where I was standing.
“That was pretty cool,” another said as he lunged towards us. “Wait ‘til I tell the guys in my band about this. We’re kind of like Death Cab before Death Cab sold out.”
Reed and I responded with a hail of gunfire to the hipster’s head.
We clamored back up the hill to see the rest of the gang standing at the edge of the road waiting for us.
“What happened?” Eve asked.
“Don’t ask,” I shook my head. “There’s more blood down there than a Rob Zombie movie.”
“Heh, I liked Rob Zombie before Rob Zombie was cool,” Reed laughed.
“Let me look at you.” Dr. Porter ran up to the policeman. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s just a scratch,” Reed answered. “Must’ve happened when that thing grabbed me.”
“We still need a way out of here,” I said. “There’s no way we can move this tree and I think we need to get out of here before more of those things show up.”
“There may be a way,” Officer Reed said. “I know that the construction vehicles circumvented the main road when Happy Valley Mall was built. I’m sure those access roads are still there.”
“That’s right,” Jim punched his fist. “We can get on those access roads and take them to the next town.”
“Yeah, but how many of those things will know about those roads?” I asked.
“I think we’ll be OK,” Reed said. “People generally don’t go to that area to begin with. It’s out of the way and blocked off.”
“Well then, let’s try it,” I shrugged.
“But first, I’m checking out that scratch on your neck,” Dr. Porter told the policeman.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Night of the Living Hipsters, Part III
Posted by Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator at 16:18
Labels: Night of the Living Hipsters
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8 comments:
Oh NO! Not REED!
So... should I just start blasting hipsters I see now?
"...They’re only able to recall basic memories from their past like their favorite flannel shirt or pointless pop culture trivia..."
Are you sure that they aren't bloggers?
Time to get the cricket bats out for some slaying.
Don't worry Nepharia, I'm sure he'll be Ok.
If you think it'll help, Vegetta.
Dr. Zaius -- Oh my God, bloggers are undead zombie hipsters!
Captain Picard -- Cricket bats! Brilliant. I better find some.
Well, bloggers do feast on the information generated by others.
I prefer to think of myself as an engorged tick feeding on the information society. ;-)
all I can say is ook, explody heads...
okay I cant get the head exploding out of my head now
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