Snippet #1753491

Kelsey Knoxberry
Day Six
Downtown - Michael Collins Park

Where Kelsey was made her feel like Simba, the Lion King. She had took shelter in Michael Collins Park one of those little plots of green in urban sprawl that some dude from the seventies thought would add a sliver of beautification to the grey and brick bastion of commerce and crime. It did, she assumed when it was first built now it was a haven for skaters, bums and kids her age to feel risqué for giving outdoor blowies. Graffiti was everywhere, the foliage was molted and unkempt and the granite benches that once dotted the grounds were replaced with hard plastic monstrosities with a armrest bisecting it to prevent indigents from resting on them for the night. The former benches were massive and deemed too much of a hassle to move so they were simply broken up where they stood, their remains surrounded the new benches like very un-zen rock gardens.

In the middle of the park was a large pond with a fountain and waterfall that created a twenty-foot curtain of water. Behind it was a little walkway that children would play behind in the daytime and perfect for obstructed drug use and teenage trysts during the night. It was a nice setup; the housing was made to look like a mountain Kelsey assumed would have been seen in North Dakota but in truth it was a fake, constructed of concrete and rebar. There was a steel access door at the bottom of the waterfall that required a key affixed with a sign that read in the three languages MAINTENANCE PERSONNEL ONLY.. Yet if the water was not running, which it wasn't - one could shimmy up the mountain’s face and find an algae slicked cave with metal steps leading down to an office and the mechanical innards that kept the water moving.

She found it a good spot, high up to see if those things were around, reinforced enough that people would not disturb her as she slept and the maintenance people had the foresight to have boxes of snacks even a small refrigerator full of hotdogs, beer and bottles of water. She lay on her belly in that cave looking out at the park thinking, Everything the light touches is my kingdom. Kelsey knew her shelter was temporary; there was only enough food and water for a couple of days. She would, once in a great while see an errant zombie shuffle by but it would reach a point that if she didn’t try to escape then that manufactured precipice would become her tomb.

She heard splashing down below that wasn’t uncommon, packs of dogs used to pool below for drinking water but the sound was different, more frantic she peered over the edge and saw a young boy running from three other children. Oh Christ she thought, that's all she needs is kids to make a bunch of noise and bring the undead like bees to a botanical garden. The kid being pursued was screaming in a horrific screech, those that were chasing him were slower, more robotic almost – Fuck. She swore under her breath. One of the other children looked up at the sky and Kelsey got a good look at his face, or what was left of it. His lower mandible was gone leaving his tongue hanging down by his neck like a turkey waddle. His eyes were opaque orbs of pale blue and his left hand was replaced with ragged tendrils of meat. Kelsey felt the warm Corona and Cheez-its in her stomach jostle a little before quieting.

The juvenile zombies were on their prey and she watched them feed with fascination like a nature programme with lions eating zebras. The undead tore little mouthfuls of flesh from the boy for almost five minutes until the kid stopped moving. Poor No-jaw kinda scraping at various extremities with frustration. After they were done they shuffled off to do it again - hunt, feed, repeat. She wasn’t sure of the process but was pretty damn certain when zombies nom’d your face you became a zombie. Kelsey was not going to wait around for the little boy floating face down in the water to “wake up”. She was out.

The beer and hot dogs fist fought all the way down her digestive tract until she had to go. She hiked up her Betsey Johnson sundress, hung her bare-ass from the waterfall’s opening and let her defecate fall with little care like she was fire bombing Dresden. She wiped with the dress and let that flutter down till it came to rest on the boy’s corpse like a burial shroud. Kelsey had found a pair of navy blue cover-alls in one of the lockers and was fortunate that the previous owner “Gil” wore a men’s small. She put on a fresh pair of panties and slipped into the coveralls also reallocating a pair of the man’s socks and a pair of work boots in a laughable size 6.

She packed what she could in the stolen child’s backpack; the remaining four hotdogs, the half bag of crackers sans box, two beers and three bottles of water. She grabbed her homemade truncheon, took a deep breath and turned the inside key to open the steel door leading outside.