Pizza, Liquor & Lead

Back at the diner…

“You did what?!”

Both Kure and Snapper had to step back from the spittle as Sea Moon screamed at them from across the desk. His voice had cracked and a multitude of vessels pulsated around his forehead. Kure had briefly wondered if the boss drank some of the tainted booze as well, but while he did almost resemble one of the liquor zombies in his rage, he was still coherent so no dice on that.

“W-well sir, you see-”

It was already difficult to break bad news to the guy on a good day, and the two had difficulty relaying all the events leading up to the death of the buyer. When Kure attempted to continue beyond that point he was no longer having it.

“Shut it before I shut it for you!”

Sea Moon chucked his cigarette into the overflowing ashtray, and cussed under his breath. “Fuckin’ send colts to do a stallion’s job.”

“What do we do boss?” Snapper cautiously asked.

“You-!” The boss was cut off by a phlegmy cough, and when he spoke after it was with a dangerous edge.

“You are gonna make this disappear. I don’t care what lengths you go to, but this shit cannot be linked back to me! Fail and I put you both at the bottom of the river.”

He of course fished out a fresh cigarette, and as he struggled to light it he spoke with actual sincerity, something neither Kure nor Snapper had ever heard from him.

“Gods above, what would Celestia say, what would all of Equestria say if we brought in the end times? All because some dumbass mutts wanted to add shit to their mix without testing it first.”

For some time, nobody really moved. Sea Moon took several hits off his cigarette and his underlings both entertained thoughts of how they could possibly rectify such a problem.

“Judging by your idiotic blank stares, you two dopes have no clue what to do next. So how about we start with something so straightforward it can’t possibly be fucked up.”

Now back in his usual form, Sea Moon pulled out two bundles of TNT from his desk drawer and slid them over. A box plunger and a bundle of wire joined them, and he didn’t mince words about what should be done with it.

“Blow those undead fuckers at the still and the club sky high and beat it! I’m gonna make some calls to the rest of our boys, see if they can stop the other shipments or at least mop things up. Now go!”

No second was spared as the two mobsters picked up the hardware and departed the room, eager to get away before the boss started screaming at underlings over the phone. No words were exchanged until they reached the truck.

“You think the boss can mop this all up?” Snapper asked after slamming the door.

That certainly was the thousand bit question. Kure knew that Sea Moon held power in many circles, but he did question whether he’d be able to completely cover up such an unusual mess. Still, wondering about such lofty matters never paid out for the griffon. Better to just go ahead with the tools and plan given, and worry about lesser matters at a later date.

“We have a lot of firepower and the night is still young. But if things truly go to shit, I’m out. I don’t give a shit what that fat bastard tries to do to me, I’m taking myself and my baby girl back to Griffonstone. May not be as many opportunities there, but we’ll be better off without all this bullshit hanging over our heads. How about you?”

“Eh,” Snapper rubbed the back of his head. “I’ll go inland. Ponyville. There’s a burgeoning farming community there, plenty of places for work while I get back on my hooves. And my kin are there too. If anything, I could at least live out the rest of my moons in peace.”

Chaos had erupted in Barrel Bay.

All around the inner city, those who hadn’t imbibed in the dogs’ whiskey had their collective night of fun ruined by an unimaginable situation. The hoardes of intoxicated zombies which had shambled out of almost every club and dive were nearly unstoppable in their number, and the everyday ponies could only flee in terror. However that didn’t stop others from standing their ground and taking the fight to the new enemy.

Emergency responders did their level best to contain the threat, with police having set up roadblocks with pump wagons courtesy of the fire brigade, who sprayed down the crowd with high pressure hoses. These non-lethal methods were utterly futile as the zombies' super strength kept them mobile and they made quick work of anything blocking their path.

So police shot at the zombies, but that was no guarantee as only a headshot would drop one dead and the general inaccuracy of their service revolvers meant it took many tries to make a good hit. By that time they were so close that many were passing through their lines and attacking unlucky officers who got within reach. Ultimately, it was the expenditure of finite ammunition which failed them.

As the situation deteriorated, those cops who had the sense to retreat before being overrun were joined by armed civilians who refused to stand idly by and let the madness continue. They fought on regardless of social standing and political leaning as those matters were trivial in the face of such adversity. Of course, a few had trod darker paths, using the pandemonium to loot stores for valuables or in the case of many of the gangs in the city, to seize territory and torch rival establishments.

The Sea Moon Associates were doing their best to destroy evidence of the calamity they had inadvertently wrought upon the city, but with so many things impeding their progress they were unable to do much to solve the problem. A good few of their number had unfortunately indulged in the liquor which left them short-hooved to deal with rival incursions let alone the undead.

To those lucky enough to live across the bay in the suburbs, they didn’t pay much heed to the echoes of gunfire floating through the still evening air. It was just another gang war getting out of hand as usual, and it was also a holiday so celebratory gunfire and pyrotechnics were also expected. They wouldn’t know until later the scope of the horror taking place in the city.

The truck had barely stopped when Kure jumped out of the passenger seat, a bundle of TNT tucked into his arm like a second son. He forgot about closing the door; his mind utterly focused on the task ahead. Snapper was more laconic, taking an extra second to
apply the hoofbrake, but he kept the boiler idling in case of a quick getaway.

He was still at the door in good time with his bundle of TNT, along with the detonation cord and the detonator, and he followed Kure inside. The layout hadn’t changed an inch in their brief absence, but considering the circumstance everything now shone in a different, sinister light. Desires to reach for weapons had to be quelled as talons and hooves were occupied, but those burdens would be dropped at a moment’s notice if anything out of the ordinary presented itself. Then a bigger hurdle cropped up.

Snapper may have been more mechanically inclined than his partner in crime, but he had no clue how to properly demolish a building. There was certainly a very specific way of setting up explosives to get the job done right, and that kind of knowledge wasn’t something doled out lightly.

“Soo… any idea where to put the dynamite?”

Kure wouldn’t be able to offer a professional answer, but he was astoundingly perceptive and in Snapper’s mindfogged state his choice would probably suffice.

“Well,” Kure briefly pondered. “The top priority is to destroy the tainted booze and any ingredients used to make it. Or, at least take out the still. Means of production and all that.”

They didn’t have the opportunity to explore the deeper reaches of the facility earlier, and they were in for a shock when they took in the entirety of the diamond dogs’ operation.

“... Holy…”

Snapper’s speech was taken by the sheer scale of their underground brewery. The cavernous room contained two rows of industrial vats so tall they required a latticework of catwalks and ladders to access, and all kinds of piping requisite for the process was strewn across the roof. The constructions may have been quite shoddy, but the simple fact that something so expansive was functioning under the nose of the government kept him at awe.

“They could make enough booze for the entire east coast, and all of it could be tainted…”

“Yeah,” Kure agreed. “All the more reason to destroy it.”

Even though alcohol was one of the oldest known preservatives, great care was still taken by brewers to keep things as sanitary as possible for the sake of their product. It was clear that the dogs had completely foregone even the most basic of precautions. Rusted and rotten tools were strewn about what was guessed to be their distillery, and many of the casks which were supposed to be used in the aging of fresh whiskey were wide open to the elements, and all the flies and gnats buzzing around couldn’t be ignored either.
“Yeesh,” Kure scoffed at the display. “No wonder they lost their fucking minds, they’re making it right out in the open! Even the old country has better standards, and that’s saying a lot.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Snapper tentatively agreed.

“Hey! Found a good spot over here.”

Kure waved Snapper over towards the location he thought was best, and the pony quickly saw the reason why tucked into a back corner. Whiskey wasn’t the only illicit drink produced in Barrel Bay, not by a long shot. He knew from experience that diamond dogs had an incredible tolerance for alcohol, and that the white lightning moonshine the species loved would knock just about anycreature else on their ass. The little stash of the stuff would be the most flammable thing in the shop, so planting there was a no brainer.

“I don’t know of any better places and I sure as shit don’t want to search any deeper in this cesspit. Let’s chuck both bundles over there and just call it a night. I can wire it all up. You can set the detonator.”

“Sure thing Kure.”

Snapper’s task wasn’t too hard. Lay down the wire, plug it into the detonator, press the plunger, and make things go boom. Walking that wire out backwards through all the corners and halls with a safe length to spare was time consuming and he found himself whistling a rather apprehensive tune as he tossed out the line. He was able to get out the door and down the street before it got taut, and that was where he placed down the detonator.

That was when he heard all the chaos across the river. Pistol shots and rifle reports booming out not only signified that the problem hadn’t gone away, but also that there was an active resistance against it. That didn’t instill much hope though as his experience fighting the initial horde showcased just how tenacious the zombies could be even after receiving a chest full of buckshot. All he could take comfort in was the fact that the situation appeared to be relegated to that part of town for the time being

“I’d hate to be those guys right now.”

A nearby noise drew his ear, and when his head followed he was forced to choke on his words. A horde double the size of earlier shambled down the street, and as soon as they saw one not their own, they double-timed their speed in unison. With a frightened whinny, Snapper galloped back the way he’d come, detonator left to the mob who’d already eclipsed it.

As he approached the tentative safety of the brewery which had ostensibly started the whole mess, another horde had presented itself to the right. The adjoining street funneled them directly into his path, so with no other recourse, he pointed his blunderbuss at the mass and pulled each trigger in succession with his left hoof. Two equines toppled forward, and the ensuing trip-up gave him enough room to dart around and get through the open door.

All he could do then was to slam the door shut, drop the lock bar, and shove all his weight into it. Breaths came ragged as he hoped beyond hope that the zombies would just pass on by to bother some other poor souls, and for a moment he thought that would be the case. Kure, who had finished up his end of the deal, didn’t appear too thrilled to have heard errant gunshots.

“What gives, Snapper?! I heard you blastin’! I hope you’re not trying to wake the dead with that-!”

The wooden door quaked as bodies started pushing against it. A deep moan of frustration reverberated through the slats at the obstruction blocking their movement, and that coerced the pony into retreating away from it.

“The monsters!” he gasped out. “They got across the river! Huge mob!”

To accentuate that fact, the sharp crackle of shattered glass striking the stone floor brought all attention to the infected forelimbs of the monsters flailing through the bars of the once-windows flanking the entrance.

“We! We gotta get outta here!” Sandbar desperately cried. He whipped his head around to find an escape, and he settled upon the unexplored upper office. “What about that?! Can you fly up and check it?!”

“Yeah, sure thing! Hold this!”

Snapper sputtered when Kure shoved his submachine gun into his hooves, and he did his best to manage two rather heavy weapons while his partner flew up to find a way out. For a fleeting moment, he imagined the griffon peeking through the glass, grinning back, and waving him over to the wrought iron staircase leading up. But Kure only examined the office for a second before he recoiled with an undignified squawk and came back to the floor with little grace.

“No!” The griffon yelled as he reacquired his piece and pointed its barrel at the offending place. “We’re not going that way!”

With a sickening shriek, the bars on one of the windows gave way and a whole gaggle of infected fell into a sloppy heap on the floor. No more words needed to be exchanged; Kure and Snapper simply fled into the brewery to escape the horror. They expected the same slow shambling from the earlier encounter, but the infected now moved with gusto and rapidly streamed through the opening.

The duo had beat it back to the brewing space, and immediately searched for something big to block the corridor leading in. Kure found an empty cask which would do the job, but even with both pushing it simply wouldn’t move. The moans drawing close pushed Snapper to tap into his earth pony strength, and with that extra effort and some nasty scraping on stone they were able to shove it into place.

“That,” Snapper panted from his exertion. “Won’t last forever. Why do they keep coming after us! They… they want something… in here?”

“The booze.”

The impromptu barricade shook as a dozen bodies slammed into it, and Kure grabbed Snapper by the fetlock and pulled him away. “They smell the booze, and they can have all of it for all I care!”

“But what about us?!”

“Keep looking for a way out. If we stand still we’re dead!”

The continued search for an exit was hectic but short as the only opportunity presented itself tucked into a darkened corner.

“You gotta be shitting me…,” Snapper moaned.

The iron door before them looked like it would have been more at home in a ship’s bulkhead then embedded into a brick wall, but with Sewer Access branded across the top it couldn’t be denied where it led to.

“These dogs like to go underground as always, haha!” Kure laughed. “See if you can get it open while I cover our ass!”

Kure moved out into the open a bit to get a visual of the far end of the factory, a mess of barrels and tables between him and the corridor leading in. The cask was visibly vibrating as dozens of hooves belonging to the braying masses beat against the wood. That became splintering as they busted through the first ribs to give in, and the structural integrity was rapidly fowled after.

When they burst through, Kure was all but ready to start mowing them down, but just as his hunch had suggested, they were far more interested in the open topped barrels scattered around. Almost instantaneously, a brawl of sorts started as the infected fought to get their snouts down into the drink, with many a vessel getting tipped or outright destroyed. Even more spectacularly, a good number of the horde were attempting to scale one of the giant vats, the mixture of once living beings trying to climb one another in uncoordinated action.

The griffon observing all this liked to think that many things couldn’t phase him, but as he watched one of them waddle up to a barrel with a dopey grin and look in only for an eye to casually roll out of its socket and splash into the drink, he felt an unmistakable revulsion. His species wasn’t known to be squeamish, but he could almost taste the bile rising up his throat. Then a hoof touched his back, and he almost jumped out of his hide.

“Door’s open,” Snapper tersely whispered. “Lets get the buck outta’ here.”

The infected didn’t miss their observers, nor did their observers miss them as they passed through the door and sealed it behind themselves.

Kure didn’t notice it until some measure of safety was achieved, but he had been close to hyperventilating throughout the run, so he happily took a moment to breathe.

“That was too damn close for my liking.”

There wasn’t much room to maneuver and the room was lit by a single dim bulb, but considering the alternative, there were no complaints. And not a foot away from the door, the first step of a spiral staircase which led down to the city’s labyrinthian sewer system waited for its latest visitors. Kure peered down the staircase but could only see down a short way before things got too dark, and easily elected that Snapper would have to lead.

“You got the better night vision buddy.” He patted Snapper on the back. “I’ll be right behind you.”

They didn’t have to descend far before the light ran out and the stench of feces and other wastes picked up. Kure had no choice but to pull out his zippo and strike a light as the dark was too much for them both, even though the environment could be highly flammable. Conditions in the main sewer line were far worse, but the extra room to maneuver on the maintenance pathway running alongside the actual sewage did make up for that.

“If we-!”

Snapper choked on the putrid, stale air when he tried to speak. He hacked a few times, gruffly cleared his throat, and carried on.

“We keep following this, it should lead us out of the city.”

Kure was aghast at such a suggestion. “Really? You want to cross the entire city in a sewer?”

Snapper gave him a half-hearted chuckle. “You weren’t so negative about this a few seconds ago.”

“Yeah, well, having those ravenous freaks chasing us down made us have to think fast.”

“My point exactly. Streets ain’t safe. Best bet is to follow this as far as possible.”

The duo almost lost their footing as the entire line shook from a deep, muffled impact from above. As a fine rain of dust came down upon him, Kure could only imagine who was responsible.

“What the fuck are they doing up there?!”

A softer but continuous rumble emanated up and down the line, and it grew steadily until a stream of fluid erupted out of a nearby drain and splashed down into the wastes. Several others joined in, and a waft of air was the only warning Kure got before the drain above his head spewed out at him. He was able to dodge quickly enough to keep the deadly substance out of his face, but his shoulders and back got drenched in the stuff.

“Ah, fuck!”

In his sudden dash, Kure almost put a sneaker in the city sewage but was able to keep the rest of himself from nearly doing the same.

“They must have knocked over one of the vats!” the griffon shouted over the torrent.

“How could they manage that!” Snapper shouted back, disbelief etched into his tone.

“I don't know! But I sure hope your mental map is good ’cuz the sooner we get out of this mess, the better!”