Episode 4: Room for Two

Seth hadn't realized how late it was, but when their trucker friend entered again with flesh hanging from his frame and a glassy stare on his slack face, Seth wondered why he ever suggested drinks in the first place. As the man shambled forward and the door to the bar swung shut, blocking the moon rays, Seth saw that the blood wasn't completely prophetic. There was a severe wound on the trucker's arm. Seth stood up to help the poor guy, when a tall, dark-haired man that Seth hadn't noticed until just then, strode to the bleeding man with a shotgun shell in his hand. Tearing it open, the guy said with a gruff voice, "this'll hurt, but it'll stop the bleeding." He then sifted the pellets from the contents of the shell, placed the rest on the man's wound, then lit it.
A bright flash and a shriek of pain followed the man's actions, he shoved the trucker down as another man came through the door, looking much like the trucker did in the moonlight. Seth sat in awe as the shotgun-shell guy blew the man's head off with a 12-gauge sawed off before the prophecy could come to pass. This struck Seth as odd, his second sight had never been wrong before, and a chilling thought took residence in his mind as the door to the establishment swung shut behind several more of the stiff moving men... And their appearance didn't change!
Seth downed the last of his drink and motioned for Tom to follow him to the back exit. Despite their best efforts at hiding their destination, They heard shrieks of discovery and then Seth felt the heat of lead shot as it flew past him. He pushed his companion to the floor and, in one, fluid motion, slid across the bar and dropped to a crouch behind the barrier. "What's your problem, man?!" Seth called from his hiding place.
"You think they won't be out back waiting for some snack to open the fire doors?" The mysterious gunman said.
"I don't know who this 'they' is that you speak of, but I do know that you're an out-of-his-mind, psycho vigilante, and I'm gonna get outta here before you get us all killed."
Seth raised his head just high enough over the bar to peek out and survey the room. There was a rapidly growing pile of bodies forming a barricade in front of the door. Seth tried to place what was odd about the freaks that were crawling over their dead compatriots with that hungry look in their cold, blank eyes. When one of them caught sight of him, he realized it, the...the thing had no throat and half of its face was sliding off the exposed bone.
Try as he might, Seth could see no source for the moonlight to hit that unnerving figure that was moving toward him, leading the comedian to the conclusion that this thing was an honest-to-goodness walking train-crash victim. Seth caught movement in his immediate periphery. Diverting his attention, he saw that angsty-shotgun-man was stuffing a rag into a bottle of vodka and lighting it with the same Zippo he used to cauterize the trucker's arm. Lobbing it toward the door, the man grinned with grim pleasure as the room soon filled with the smell of burning flesh.

*****

Tom could not believe what was happening. At first he'd figured that someone had slipped him a mickey and he was hallucinating, but as the adrenaline began to overpower the alchohol and he started sobering up, it dawned on him that he really had just narrowly avoided being shot in the head with a shotgun, and that there was a mad man mowing down what seemed to be a mob of crazed cultists that were heavily into bodily mutilation. Tom quickly joined his companion, Seth, behind the bar, just as their resident lunatic tossed a makeshift molotov cocktail at the entrance. That wasn't the most disturbing part of his action, not even close. It was the fact that the now slightly on-fire freaks kept coming without flinching. 'Holy shit!' Tom thought, 'this is some pretty heavy shit I'm in!'
He ducked behind the counter again and began to take stock of the resources at his disposal. There was a low-caliber rifle and two pistols with a pair of spare full clips for each of them taped to the underside of the bar, to his right. Tom's comedic friend was to his left, still observing the chaos that was going on on the other side of their temporary shelter. Pulling Seth down by his shirt and simultaneously ripping off one of the pistols, Tom handed it Seth, along with it's corresponding two mags.
Grabbing one for himself, he motioned for his friend to follow him as they once again made their way towards the door, stopping to slide the rifle across the floor behind the bar to the cowering and confused bartender. This time, the two actually made it. It seemed as though their new friend was so preoccupied with the bars newest hostile patrons that he wouldn't miss them for quite awhile. So, the two busied themselves looking for a vehicle that could get them out of the center of the acid-trip they had landed in. They found only one, and there was a free gift that came with the tasteful two-seat sports car: a slobbering half-crazed cannibal finishing the snack he was making of the car's previous owner.

Tom looked on, horrified as the creature rose to full height, joints creaking and straining audibly. The thing began shambling foreward and Tom's arm was frozen at his side. With timing that could only have come from an action hero, the vigilante shot twice from behind Tom and pegged the cannibal in the head with both slugs.

*****

Seth wathced as the strange gunman cut down yet another assailant. "Move!" the man called. As they all slid into the small sports car, Tom said "There's only room for two!"

"Leg room isn't a luxury we can afford to take right now," their savior said, connecting the ignition wires, and the engine revved in compliance, "So just sit there until we get out of here."
The purring of the fine tuned engine erased all noise from out side. It was very comforting.
" You know, you guys really almost got yourselves fucking ki...," The gunman's words were choked off when the freak that he'd just blasted tore his throat out from the open car door, two clean bullet holes right in the center of his forehead. Screaming, Seth managed to slide over to the driver's seat, throw the car in gear, and tramp on the accelerator, sending the men flying into the night.