Chapter 10 – Laugh of the Hyena, Roar of the Gorilla

The next few moments could never be clearly recalled by Gingy; all he remembered was a torrent of disbelief and murderous rage.

Her name. How many times had he repeated it as he ran to her fallen body? Every time it left his lips he held onto the faint hope that she would answer, and that it was all a bad joke; anything that would break this overwhelming feeling of despair that he felt. His arms cradled her, blood pouring from the chest wound and completely painting his hands with her blood. In that same moment that he tried to come to grips with reality, she slowly turned her head towards him.

Her mouth moved, but Gingy heard no words. She was speaking too softly, and he was almost delirious.

“Gingy...” she finally breathed out, the utterance alone sapping her strength.

“Ossy! Don’t you dare die on me!” His eyes were wide open.

“Gingy...” she mouthed again. “I’m...” suddenly, she stopped. The cruel touch of death wouldn’t even allow her a last word. Her eyes faded into a dull blue, losing the shine and sparkle that made it all so lively.

“No...” the boxer whispered to himself, the sound lost among the wind. He heard the footsteps of Ossy’s murderer leaving. He had no interest in the matter, no remorse for the life he had stolen. Grief was quickly overcome by rage, anger, and hatred towards the one who had taken from him. Without thinking, he made a dash towards his vulnerable enemy.

The mysterious man sighed as he felt the sudden change in the atmosphere. The fool would’ve been left alive had he just minded his own. Now he would die alongside her. Smoothly drawing his revolver with his right hand, he whipped his body around to face the threat, shooting instinctively.

Almost superhumanly, Gingy strafed to the right and avoided the two bullets that would have most definitely ended his life. The event was so quick and so unbelievable that the murderer didn’t have time to react. Gingy used that precious second to get in close, prepared to finish the fight with a fatal right uppercut. He was a boxing champion. He could kill a man with his bare hands. But never before had he considered taking someone’s life with his power.

Until now.

His attack was ferocious and sudden, but the killer had much more skill than Gingy had thought. Moving his head backwards at an angle, he dodged the fatal blow and whipped his gun to the boxer’s face, preparing to fire at point-blank range. But Gingy was faster, intercepting the movement with his left arm. He slammed his limb against the killer’s swiveling one, pushing the gun’s line of fire away from his body. The trigger was pulled and the shot went off less than a second after Gingy blocked it, firing into the news building. Instinctively, the murderer knew that he only had a single bullet left in his magnum. He had not kept count, but his familiarity with the gun kept him aware.

Using his free hand, the killer managed to get a hook in the side of Gingy’s chin; but it wasn’t nearly effective as he had hoped. It was expected, though. From that one punch Gingy threw, the mysterious man knew that his opponent was an experienced boxer. That didn’t scare him; he was experienced enough to deal with all forms of combat. To lose to a brute like him was inconceivable.

Gingy quickly recovered from the attacker’s punch and threw one of his own. His left jab hit empty air when the killer ducked out of the way. He was too full of rage and the man could tell that the refinery in the boxer’s attacks was lost. Grabbing his hunting knife from the sheath it rested in and positioning it in a reverse grip, he went in for a slash. Obviously, the boxer would distance himself to dodge the swipe. When he did, the murderer would use his gun and kill the fighter with his last bullet. Simple.

How surprised was the killer to find his knife digging into flesh as Gingy purposefully defended with his arm once again, letting the deadly blade carve a niche into it. Withstanding the paint as his skin ripped open and blood began to squirt, he took advantage of the moment. Letting the killer connect with the blade left him vulnerable...and if he retreated, it would mean death by gun. Throwing a left hook to catch the murder in the head, he planned on ending it there. The killer vainly tried to avoid it by pulling back his neck, but he wasn’t quick enough to fully avoid it. The punch connected with the bottom of the murderer’s chin, the blow more than enough to throw him off his feet as his focus was lost and he fell into a state of near unconsciousness. No longer feeling his legs, the enigmatic man fell to the floor, the body of Ossy across from him and the vengeful boxer above him.

The killer was in a bad spot...the boxer lifted his fist into the air, just about ready to pound his head in and batter his brain. He had to do something fast. His mind was racing, his head pounding with pain from the blow and the desire to survive. That’s when he saw her. The girl, just past the corner. She had walked into the scene of violence unknowing and unprepared. Weakly raising his gun to her from the floor, he pulled the trigger and smiled as the bullet pierced her.

Gingy looked back. Jessica cried out in pain as the shrapnel went through her leg, leaving a clean hole on both sides as blood started to pour through. The killer felt a moment’s disappointment. He had planned for a more debilitating blow, but his terrible shooting position and dizzied state proved to be factors he could not overcome. Gingy’s focus towards the girl was the window of opportunity that he needed, using it to force himself to his feet. The after effects of that punch remained present, though, as his legs buckled and his body swayed as he tried to stay standing.

“My bullets have most definitely alerted the zombies...” the man started slowly as he attempted to stay conscious. “You can chase me down and fight me...but then they’ll most definitely eat her alive, especially when she can’t run...” He began to distance himself from the boxer, down into the underground parking lot. Gingy’s state of mind was split between helping Jessica and taking out the gunman. The killer began to smirk as his vision began to clear and the distance between him and the boxer increased. The haughtiness then turned into mocking laughter, a spiteful joy that crushed Gingy’s spirit. True to his word, Gingy could hear the moaning of nearby zombies. His enemy had disappeared into the parking lot. Turning around, he ran towards Jessica who was in tears from the pain in her lower leg.

“Can you stand?” he asked, voice still racing from what had just occurred.

“I...I don’t think so,” was the faint reply. The boxer put her arm over his shoulder and he helped her to the passenger seat of the car Ossy had been driving. She quickly got in despite the injury when a wave of putrid air entered her nose and a metallic taste danced along her tongue. She turned around into the back seat to see the bloody corpse of a female lying on the car floor, her liquid life stained all over the back. Jessica turned her head and vomited outside the car door, barely avoiding Gingy’s feet. Noticing her reaction, he opened up the backseat door and pulled out the body, laying it to rest on the ground in front of Ossy. He motioned towards the front seat when he saw it begin to move. Immediately, he punched her in the side of the head. With only one side of her neck to support her, the blow decapitated her remains and the zombie became motionless once again.

He stepped in the car, relieved at seeing the car keys already inside. He twisted it, forcing the car to life as its engine revved. He looked in the rear view mirror...zombies had started to come out from the underground parking lot, and some from behind the building. Gingy took one last look at the corpse of his girlfriend. The emotions of sadness and guilt stabbed at him as he visibly winced at his failure to protect or avenge her.

“They’re coming,” Jessica noted in-between pained breaths. The boxer barely nodded as his eyes closed. When he opened them, they were steely and determined – a vast contrast to a moment ago.

“I won’t let your death be in vain,” he whispered to himself. “I’ll survive for the both of us, and I’ll find that man again. And when I do...he’ll pay.”

He hit the gas and the car bolted out of the area, the two bodies of failed survivors the only indicator of what had just transpired.

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