Side Story: Ozzie 4

Side Story: Ozzie 4

Ozzie crept up to the rail as the shouting continued outside. He glanced over at the hound on his left which was shuffling forward like some kind of military dog. On his left, the thief was creeping along as well, emulating his own ‘stealthy’ approach in its own rather loosey-goosey way. He was glad that at the very least it didn’t fall all over itself. He grumbled inwardly, rethinking his idea for the upteenth time and peered over the rail. Down below, a half dozen men were talking loudly and shouting, throwing glass bottles on the ground and snapping at anyone who got close.

One of them was holding a bat, and he wasn’t sure if any of the others were armed. He scratched his neck nervously. Uh... okay... so... He trailed off in his own head, How do I even do this? He thought. I’d rather not make a big scene, but I guess I don’t really have a choice. He scratched his neck again. Man this is such a bad idea! What if they’re part of a gang? Will they retaliate? Does it even matter? His lips thinned into a line. It’s not like I can die anyway. I just gotta... attack? Right? Just go for it? Go. Do the thing. That’s right Ozzie. Just kill a bunch of noisy assholes who-

There was a rush of movement on either side of him and he blinked, the sudden shift in the air enough to send his hair fluttering about his head. He blinked and blinked again. He whipped his head left and right. Empty spots waited for him at his sides. He turned wide eyes towards the air beyond the rail. His pupils shrank in fright. You have got to be kidding me! He screamed inwardly as the thief and hound hurtled through the air at their targets. One of the men down below looked up in momentary confusion in the heartbeat it took for the pair to travel in their direction.

“Huh?”

WHAM!

CRUNCH!

The hound landed on him without fanfare, its teeth digging into his throat as the thief tackled the man holding the bat to the ground with a snarl, biting down as well. The other four were slow to react, drunk as they were, and stumbled a little in confusion for a moment before sobriety hit them like a truck. “What the fuck?” One of the men shouted, “Is that a hound?” He barked, pulling a gun out of his pants. He aimed and pulled the trigger, a gunshot ringing out but missing the hound by a wide margin. Ozzie shifted back a few paces, trying not to be seen.

He has a gun? Oh damn it.

One of the others charged forward and tried to kick the hound off of his comrade. The hound pulled off the corpse and snarled, darting back a few paces and snapping its jaws at him. He stumbled and took a step back out of fright. The other two men looked at one another and pulled out their own weapons. They have guns too! Oh come on. Ozzie griped as one of them shot the thief. The thief jerked back and pulled off his prey, standing up and looking at its shoulder for a moment in confusion before looking up at the men.

The thugs looked at one another. “Is that a fucking zombie?” One asked.

Just as he spoke, the hound lunged at the one that had tried to kick it. He let out a shout and cry of pain as its fangs sunk into flesh. The thief shambled forward before breaking into a run, throwing itself at the remaining three. They pointed their guns at it and fired, center mass. Three hits dropped it to the ground. Ozzie blinked, not feeling the connection cut before the realization hit him and he frowned a little, Haven’t these guys seen a zombie movie before? He thought, a bit perplexed.

A shout rang out nearby and he diverted his attention. “Somebody's fighting that gang!”

“What’s happening?”

Ozzie tensed, then blinked.

“That’s a good idea.” A woman said, peering down over the rail.

Ozzie looked down at the zombies, white-knuckling the rail as he let the suggestion sink in. The sirens were getting closer. Could he trust them? Did it matter? He’d have to start over if the cops got there, they’d be more than well armed enough to put down five zombies and there went his plan to make them all taxi drivers. He pursed his lips, It does feel pretty good, though. A little gratitude. I’m no hero, don’t wanna be, but...

He felt his connection to the zombies and willed them to head towards the storage rooms on the first floor. They all moved as one, forming up like soldiers and marching with the hound leading the way. The residents all murmured again as the creatures slipped into the inner hallway. To his right, he heard the man get up and hurry down the stairs.

“Where are you going?” One of them shouted.

“Gotta let them in, don’t I?” He shouted back.

“This is crazy, they could turn you!” Another shouted.

“I don’t think they will!” He replied.

Ozzie took a deep breath, feeling his dead lungs fill, and exhaled. He gave the zombies orders to go into the room that the man opened but otherwise do nothing. A few minutes later, the guy came out and waved at everyone. The sirens were just around the corner and people started to hurry back into their homes. Ozzie got to his feet and started to make his way to his own apartment when he heard footsteps coming towards him.

He glanced in the man’s direction.

“Ozzie, right?” He said, “I’m Chris, your neighbor.”

Ozzie cleared his throat, standing in the dim light of the shitty apartment exterior lights. “Yeah, I’m Ozzie.”

Chris walked forward and froze, close enough to take in Ozzie’s appearance. While those detectives had only seen a guy who’d just had a rough night, Chris was primed to pick out the details that they’d missed. He swallowed and then broke into a grin, “Mind if we talk?”