Side Story: Ozzie 2

Side Story: Ozzie 2

The lights illuminating the sidewalk flickered now and then as Ozzie hustled. He resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder, trying to ignore the horrible thing that was following him. He pursed his lips together, squeezed his eyes shut, and looked up to the sky for some sort of strength. Nothing, who would answer the prayers of a zombie? He shoved his hands into his pockets and forced himself to hobble along, his loose limbs still awkward beneath him. He tripped now and then and kept shifting direction before righting himself.

A couple walked past him, moving a bit further to the edge of the sidewalk as they did. They watched him carefully, the dude wrapping his arm protectively around the girl’s shoulder. The girl murmured something that Ozzie shouldn’t have been able to hear but heard it loud and clear; “Is that guy drunk? What’s up with his dog? Is that a stray or something? Poor thing...”

Ozzie groaned and pulled his hat further down his head before throwing a scathing glance back at the hound that had attacked him just a short time before. The creature’s dead eyes met his as it kept walking, quietly following him with only a small growl sent in the direction of the couple as they passed. Its fur had grayed from the sleek black that the monster originally possessed and the bite mark on its neck was barely visible now. It looked like the lovechild between a greyhound and a jackal.

It smelled so good! Why was it so gross? He whined inwardly. He remembered tackling the beast to the ground and biting down in a frenzy only to realize just how foul the thing tasted now that he’d made contact. What he had expected? A turkey dinner? He slumped and pulled on the lid of his cap as if he could pull it further down. After he’d bitten it, he’d scrambled away in terror, expecting it to respond to his attack in kind. Instead, the creature had taken only a few steps and collapsed, dying quickly under the effects of whatever his bite contained.

Then it just got back up and wagged it’s tail.

At the moment it was so cool, but now I’m walking down the street with a monster! Ozzie are you crazy? Come on man? Think things through! Why’d you tell it to follow you?! He griped, reaching up and scratching at his head frantically through the hat. He stood there, venting his frustration and making a scene as a few more people walked by. The hound caught up and sat down next to him, hunched over and holding his head like a mental patient. The dead-eyed dog looked up at him and wagged its tail again.

He looked down at it and pressed his lips together. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath that he’d quickly realized he really didn’t need to do except to experience the sensation of breathing and sighed. He reached out and pat the horrible zombie creature’s head and turned back to the sidewalk, hands back in his pockets. “Come on, boy, let’s go home...” He mumbled before nearly tripping over himself again. Instead of catching himself, a pair of hands grabbed him and hoisted him to his feet.

He blinked and squinted upwards at the person who had helped him only to freeze as soon as he saw the person’s belt beneath a long coat. A cop! Are you kidding me can this night get any worse? He wept inwardly.

“You alright, pal? You drunk?” The officer asked.

Ozzie thought fast or as fast as his zombified brain would let him think, he cleared his throat, “Just a couple drinks, officer,” He said with his head down and glanced up at the nearest street sign.

“You need a taxi?” The officer cut in.

He started to hustle and was surprised to find a rhythm pretty quickly. It wasn’t a normal run but a loping, clumsy run, but it was a run nevertheless. He darted down the sidewalk and quickly rounded the corner before weaving his way through alleys that he was more familiar with than most natives to the city. In no time he was only a block away from home. He let out a sigh of relief as he saw a portion of his apartment building peeking over rooftops a few buildings away.

“Hey!” Someone shouted and he tripped over himself again, falling flat on his face. He scrambled into a sitting position and whipped his head around, spotting a man standing next to a dumpster with a hood over his head.

“Uh... yes?” Ozzie said dumbly.

The man pulled a gun, “Money, now.”

Oh come on! Ozzie whined, “I don’t have any, empty pockets, promise!” He croaked, holding up his hands.

“You sound weird,” The man said, walking towards him, his gun at the ready. Ozzie stared at the barrel in horror, “Freak, last warning, money now,” He snarled.

Ozzie went for his pockets, his hands shaking as he tried to pull them inside out but found that he was too shaky to even try. He laughed nervously and looked up at the man as he kept trying to fish his fingers into his pockets. The man pulled back the hammer on the gun, Oh come on, not again! He wept in time for a gurgling snarl to break into the standoff. Ozzie’s eyes opened wide, he whipped his head to the right just in time to see Pavlov land on the man and dig his teeth into the man’s arm.

“Shit!” The man screamed, “Get it off!” He bellowed and tried to pull away only to trip and fall back, slamming his head into the wall behind him and collapsing onto the ground.

Ozzie stared in horror at the crumpled man, he looked at Pavlov who was walking away from the body as if nothing had happened before sitting down right in front of Ozzie. Ozzie reached his hand out towards the monster’s bloody face and pat its head, “Uh... good boy?”

That was when the man twitched.

Ozzie tensed and looked at the guy and felt his heart fall right down into his ass, “Oh no...” He groaned, “Not another one...”