chapter thirteen

“Light ‘em!” yelled Harmon.

The Molotov cocktails, constructed out of the bottles from Mule’s desk, sprung to light; their blue alcohol burn illuminating more light than the office had seen in hours.

Dead Remo crawled through the broken doorway and onto the top of the desk. Dead Johnny and Dead Chuck came through next while Dead Todd remained in the hallway, not quite knowing what was going on.

“Throw!” Harmon commanded and three Molotov cocktails arced through Mule’s office, connecting with the corpses. A high-pitched shriek scared through the office: Dead Remo’s body howled in pain.

“Again!” Harmon said and the remaining bottles of alcohol were lit then thrown.

The corpses tried to retreat but were too flustered by the pain to go through the door.

Harmon walked towards them, his Kent Hrbek special crashing down into the chest of Dead Remo, who let out a guttural sigh, its’ doll like eyes rolling back then flipping over white. He moved towards Dead Johnny and repeated the process, the sickening thud of its’ rib cage cracking reverberated through the four cornered room.

“C’mon Balddee, help me move the desk so he can finish off the two in the hall.” Mule said, grabbing an edge of his desk.

Harmon walked into the hall, alone. The cold grip of Dead Todd reached around Harmon’s ankle forcing him to his knees. In a reflex, the ash bat swung through the air crashing down upon Dead Todd. Harmon struggled to his feet and whacked him again but Dead Chuck incisors sunk into Harmon’s thigh.

With a gasp of pain, Harmon turned his natural upper cut swing into the jaw of Dead Chuck, the piece of flesh that had been gripped between Dead Chuck’s teeth ripped from Harmon’s leg as the corpse broke away. Harmon brought the bat above his head and the deathblow fell down through the chest of Dead Chuck all the way to the office carpet.

Harmon winced in pain, leaning for support on the bat, the remainder of the group looked at him. A smile crept onto Harmon’s face as he indicated his leg. “I guess there is no sense in me trying to cover this up.”

His legs buckled and he sunk to his knees. Grabbing the bat by the barrel he offered the handle to Balddee. “You know what you have to do. Make it quick.”

Balddee accepted the bat and raised it up before crashing it into Harmon’s skull. The bat splintered from the effect.

“Broken bat single.” Mule said, “He would’ve liked it that way.”

Balddee took the splintered handle of the bat that remained in his hand, driving the handle through Harmon’s chest.