The Night

by Steinwachs, Mark

  Matthew looked directly into the camera with a self-satisfying grin and gave the audience a wink. What the technicians of Hunter Slayer had achieved by capturing, yet not killing the zombies was unheard of. Getting close enough to attach a camera to them was nothing short of insane.

  The Director set his half-empty glass down. “Okay. Let’s get to work. Stay sharp. Lots of extra cameras to deal with.” His voice was cool and detached. Blocking out the world around him, reality was beginning to fade away as his focus intensified.

  He looked up at his wall of monitors, some fifty-five in all.

  Twenty-five per player. Forty was challenge enough, plus the five in studio, and now the ten zombie cams, but at least those should be fun.

  “Stand by Red One. Go Red One.”

  With that the ‘real world’ was gone, his game had started, just as the two competitors began theirs. His ‘live’ monitor showed Red One and what America saw.

  Jonas came through a door jutting out from a small hill and carefully moved to the nearest tree. “Holy fuck!” The words half caught in his throat as he swung his body sideways and rolled away from a diving zombie. Jonas pulled his knife free from its sheath. He breathed out sharply almost hissing, “Come on.”

  The camera panned smoothly, seamlessly.

  Only the best guys can get me these shots. Fuck me, I love live TV.

  A cocky half smile was all those around him saw. He caught the shot just in time. “Take Red Two!”

  The snarl of the zombie burst through the speakers. Its jaws opened wide, showing a set of still intact teeth, as it pushed up off the ground from where it had landed on all fours. This one was fresh. Moving with human-like dexterity, the zombie wasted no time in lunging at its target.

  Jonas stood his ground as the zombie came at him. As quick as the zombie was, Jonas still sidestepped and slipped behind it. Grabbing its left arm, Jonas jammed his combat knife into the lower part of the zombie’s brain and straight through until the blade pierced its neck on the other side. As Jonas yanked back, freeing his knife, he let his first kill fall to the forest floor in a bloody heap. Jonas darted off, heading deeper into the forest looking for kill number two.

  The Director reacted quickly. “Get me Red One, Red Two, and Zombie Seven, guys,” he said to everyone on his com channel. His cool detachment from earlier had changed to crisp, sharp commands. “I want the best angle of that spin move cued up and ready ASAP. One, get me Matthew.” He took a breath waiting for One to get lined up. “And, go One.”

  Matthew looked into the camera. Behind him sat the three judges, this time lit for television. “It looks like we aren’t going to waste any time tonight, America,” Matthew said. “Jonas Wetherbey recorded the quickest kill ever on Hunter Slayer, and in my humble opinion, it was one of the finest as well. But that’s not for me to decide, that’s up to our judges. Let’s meet them, shall we?”

  The Director was barely listening to Matthew and the judges rambling on, he couldn’t care less about what they said. All he wanted were the shots. It was all second nature for him. Close-up to a two shot, back to a close-up on the next judge, throw in a quick audience shot, close-up on the third judge.

  His right leg twitched in time with a beat only he heard. “Give me the reverse from Red One in slow motion. That’s the best shot.” In his ear he heard Matthew mention looking at the kill in slow motion.

  Now comes the fun part. “Go replay.”

  The zombie lunged at Jonas. In one motion Jonas grabbed the zombie by the arm and swung behind it. America could see clearly as Jonas snapped the creature’s wrist, its hand going up at a grotesque angle, bone rupturing the skin. He brought the arm around with him and mashed it into the middle of its back. In pure high-definition glory, saliva shot from its mouth as it tried to sink its teeth into the faster human. The knife pierced the skin, driving into the base of the skull. What originally occurred in the blink of an eye now played out frame by frame, Jonas slowly pushing deeper until the hilt was against the back of the zombie’s neck. The blade protruded from its throat and a torrent of blood gushed free.

  The Director’s self-indulgent smile widened, “Go Zombie Seven. Let’s show America our new toy.”

  The replay was jarring and jerky to watch. The ground blurring as the zombie dove, then settling for a second before the lunge at Jonas. As on the other replays, Jonas was now behind the zombie. The camera jerked one more time, then dark red blood began to cover the lens until that was all that could be seen.

  “Let me see some audience. Right there, Three. Go!”

  God, this is too easy.

  The audience was sitting in shocked silence. Then they erupted with a loud cheer as the lights panned through the studio, flashing red, signaling a kill for one of the contestants. The lights swung back into their position and the stage was once again lit for television.

  “Aaaand go, One.” Only the crew members that had worked with him for years could pick up the slightly raised inflection in his voice.

  Matthew was beaming from ear to ear. He brought his mic up, “How about that, America? Amazing! Could this be the first perfect score ever here on Hunter Slayer? Now that we’ve seen the kill in slow motion, let’s get our scores from the judges. First, Colonel Smithson, as a retired United States Army officer and one of the leaders in the Battle of Atlanta, you have seen lots of kills. How does this one measure up?”

  The Director rocked back slightly and an easy-sounding “Take, Two” was heard. He sipped his drink. The addictive rush from the game’s first kill was wearing off. “And, go One.” The play between Matthew and the judges was simple to call and gave him a second to reset himself. He effortlessly called the shots as his eyes scanned the wall in front of him waiting for the next kill to occur. He saw it on multiple monitors. Alex had a bead on a zombie facing away from him. Alex’s cam and one of the remote cameras had it lined up.

  I’ve got you now.

  Matthew’s voice, cutting into The Director’s subconscious, called out the first perfect score for a kill. He reacted quickly, “Go replay, and slow it down again.”

  As a teenager, one verse from a song changed his life forever and made him want to do this for a living. A line from his favorite song, “Domino”, flashed in his brain. He sneered. Don’t worry, I will show it again, he thought in reply to the lyric.

  “Let’s really let them see it this time.” He smiled, waiting for the replay to finish, his next three shots already lined up. Alex was about to make his first kill, The Director was ready to show it to America. “Go Blue Two.”

  The audience was looking down Alex’s crossbow, the zombie was thirty yards away, facing the opposite direction and slightly lower than he was. Leaves filled the edges of the screen. The sound of the wind in the trees was all that could be heard. ‘Click’.

  The bolt was let loose.

  “Go Blue One.”

  There was a crunch as the arrow found its mark and a shriek erupted from the zombie. The ear-piercing sound exploded through speakers everywhere. The creature crumpled to the ground, its skull ripped in half, the bolt sticking up in the grass. Alex leapt out of the tree and ran towards the zombie. His boots echoed loudly on the forest floor as his eyes scanned from side to side, looking for any other zombies in the area. Without breaking stride, he wrapped his hand around the bolt, and yanked it from the ground. He quickly made a ninety-degree turn, reloading his crossbow as he ran.

  Again The Director called an audience shot out of the kill. Matthew, judge, replay, Matthew, judge, Matthew, judge, Matthew.

  Fifteen minutes in and two kills, that should keep them glued to their couches.

  “Nice job using the audio feed from that zombie cam,” The Director told his audio engineer. He rarely praised his men like that during a show, so when he did, everyone took notice. “Bet we scared the shit out of half the viewers.”

  The Director kept his eyes on Blue screens. He could feel Alex on the trail of another one.

 
; This guy is good; Jonas might be in trouble tonight.

  As he followed the action on his monitors, he called out shot after shot without missing a beat. Various chatter from crew members crackled in his left ear while in his right he only heard Matthew. He was deep in his groove now. Years of experience let him take it all in and pick out what he needed; only the voices that were meant for him and the action he needed to put on the television screens. At times like this he felt like he was controlling the action and not reacting to it. As usual, his instincts were dead on.

  “Dump Matthew! Go Two!” He barked his orders and everyone fell in line.

  The studio went dark and the LED wall became one giant monitor. Matthew stopped talking mid-sentence and watched Alex sprinting on the screen that filled the stage.

  “Two, push past Matthew to the LED wall, then I’m going to take Blue Three.” The Director’s voice was fluid but crisp. “Go Blue Three.”

  The camera widened a bit and the zombie came into view. It turned to face Alex. It was an older zombie and much too slow. It had no chance. The zombie raised its arms up and lunged forward. Alex closed to within ten feet and brought his crossbow up. It was a thing of horrific beauty. The bolt was let loose, tearing apart the zombie’s gaping mouth. Teeth fragments flew in all directions as the arrow bore through flesh and bone, not stopping until the tip broke through the other side of its head. The force knocked the zombie to the ground as Alex sped by, this time not stopping to retrieve the arrow.

  “Fuck me, this guy is good,” The Director said smiling. Alex was making his night so far. “Cue up Alex’s camera but don’t stabilize it or color correct it. Let’s give them the first replay raw.”

  A few quick cuts and Matthew called for the replay.

  The camera on Alex bounced with each of his movements. Through the fading light of dusk you could see the shape of the zombie, the shadows keeping any real details of it obscured. The crossbow filled the screen and there was a clack and a loud release of air as Alex fired, letting out a deep breath. A blur of motion off to his left was all that could be seen of the zombie as it fell back.

  “Go Camera One.”

  The lights on stage came up as Matthew began to speak. “How about that! God bless our American fighting spirit! Alex Divanti, a true American hero!” The crowd went wild.

  “Fuck me,” The Director said evenly, but not even he could contain his excitement. The image on the monitor reminded him why he loved his job. “This is too fucking good. Give me that.” There was no need to call what camera, everyone in the control room knew.

  The LED screens once again morphed into one picture. In perfect color and light, in perfect serene brutality, the zombie laid with its mouth torn open. Teeth, lips, tongue, and shredded slackened flesh hung from its body. A crossbow bolt stuck straight up from its mouth. The image filled the screen, a creature from nightmares now all too real.

  Welcome to the new America. Welcome to the new America, let me show you the way.

  The thin line of a smile revealed his pleasure, his total control.

  ***

  The middle of the game wore on. Jonas picked up two kills in a row. It gave him a 3-2 lead, but Alex still had him on time bonuses. Everything was going along smoothly. The crew was on point hitting their cues with precision. Jonas and Alex had some stunning kills, and more importantly, were still alive. While he would never admit it out loud, The Director often wondered how high the ratings would be if a player got killed. How many millions of people all over the world would watch with macabre curiosity? Watching his work.

  The Director poured himself another drink and took a sip while his eyes scanned monitor after monitor. Nothing caught his attention. “Let’s go with the Jonas Grand Island piece,” he said sounding almost bored. “Maybe after that, one of our boys out there will stumble on the next kill.”

  The Director watched his monitors as the two-minute piece ran. “There it is. That’s my boy,” the Director spoke to himself. Then a bit louder to make sure everyone heard him, “Matthew, when we come out of the Jonas piece, we are going to you on One, then to a live shot of Alex. No correction. Looks like he is on the hunt.”

  “Stand by One. Go One.” He could feel it building up again.

  As they had all night, the lights faded up right before Matthew began to speak. “An amazing story, and to think how many other Americans have ones just like it. I’m getting word we are about to go back live to Alex Divanti. We are going to show you this exactly as Alex sees it. No nightvision for your television sets at home, so don’t adjust your screens, America.”

  “Go Blue Two.”

  Here we go.

  Alex looked in the direction of something darker than what was in his peripheral vision. It was almost pitch black as he stepped into what took shape as a cave as he passed through the threshold. You could hear slow, steady, quiet breaths from Alex. The camera jostled slightly with each careful step. The last bit of shadow went away. Alex’s crossbow came up in the darkness. A moan filled the air, followed by the release of the bolt.

  “Go correction.” The control room around him was gone again, the game his only focus.

  The picture became bright and clear and the camera steadied as the men behind the scenes worked their magic.

  The zombie staggered backwards with the bolt sticking out of its shoulder. Gray muck oozed from its now useless arm. A loud “Shit!” escaped from Alex as he dropped his weapon and charged the enemy that was fifteen feet away. The cave itself was not much deeper and half as wide with rough stone walls.

  A second zombie stepped into view coming from behind the first. Alex pulled his knife free from its sheath and closed to within a few feet of the first zombie. A grunt escaped him as he slid feet first on the graveled ground, his body under the outstretched good arm of the zombie.

  Alex’s knife slashed out in front of the camera and tore into the zombie’s hamstring. More muck poured from it as it groaned and fell to the ground. Alex rolled quickly to his left and into a crouch as the second zombie dove forward into the middle of the fray. This one was fresh and quick.

  “Jesus, where do they find these things?” The Director muttered, appreciating the ingenuity of the men who capture them. “Go Zombie Six.”

  Alex’s image filled the screen. His face was filthy, eyes focused in front of him, with his knife at the ready, his pants torn and dirty from the slide. A roar vibrated around the cave as the zombie lunged in for another attack. Sidestepping to the right, Alex slashed his knife, tearing into the second zombie’s wrist. Blood erupted from the nearly severed hand.

  The Director’s body tensed as his mind focused—knowing, feeling. It was his time. “Go Blue Two”

  The zombie reeled back from the force of the blow. It roared again in anger, filling the cave with its animal-like cry. Alex kept his momentum going to the right, returning to the first zombie.

  It lay on the ground desperately trying to get him, but it had no chance with a cut hamstring and destroyed shoulder. It was coated in zombie muck as it clawed for Alex. Broken teeth and rotted gums gnashed at him. Sunken eyes filled with hunger for human flesh filled the screen.

  Alex’s arm arced down. The knife, designed to kill, fulfilled its mission as it punctured the zombie’s left eye. The wide blade split the eye in half and cut into the nose and cheek, splitting the face wide open. Bone and chunks of once-human flesh were exposed as the zombie’s head smashed to the ground from the attack.

  Alex turned his head from his fresh kill and back to the second zombie. It steadied itself, right hand hanging useless, gushing blood, and then leapt forward.

  “Get it ready, guys! Everything we’ve got!” he barked out, command in his voice. His normally veiled euphoria no longer contained. “Fucking brilliant! Go Zombie Six!”

  Alex’s hand was still on the hilt of the knife. The zombie latched its good hand on to Alex’s ankle. Alex tried to pull his knife free but it was lodged in the skull of the dead zombie. He let
go of his knife, shifting his body so he was sitting on his butt with his palms on the blood-covered cave floor.

  “Go Blue Two! Now!”

  Finish him!

  The zombie had human-like dexterity. Its teeth were yellowed but still intact. Blood poured from its severed right hand but that didn’t slow it at all. Its neck bent towards Alex, mouth opening wide. Alex brought his free right leg up and kicked forward, hard. His combat boot made contact. A loud snapping and crunching sound was heard as the strike hit home.

  Jaw hanging broken, the zombie wailed in pain as it turned its now deformed face back towards Alex. It bore down on him again. Alex kicked again.

  And again.

  And again.

  The crunching of bone filled the air as he weakened the creature with each blow. The zombie’s muffled wail was drowned out by Alex’s “God dammit! Die you piece of shit!” He kicked one more time. The zombie’s head snapped to the side, ripped from its spine, the last few teeth shooting out. The zombie fell limply on top of Alex’s left leg. Alex quickly pushed it off and slid back towards the cave wall.

  “Go Zombie Six. God, I love my job.” The Director’s perverse pleasure was evident to everyone around him.

  The first zombie was oozing gray sludge onto the cave floor, its face split in two by Alex’s knife, which still stuck straight up, wedged in its skull. The slow-moving muck was a stark contrast to the reddish blood that was flowing from the nearly dismembered hand of the second zombie, its arm in full view of the camera. Behind all the carnage sat Alex, now resting against the wall, his sharp breaths the only sound in the cave.

  Alex quickly turned his head left and then dove over to his knife. He grabbed the hilt, once again trying to pull it free. He looked towards the front of the cave, then back at his knife. This time he pushed himself up to his feet, placed his boot on the head of his first victim, and grunted as his knife came free with a nauseating sound. Spinning around quickly he squared himself to the cave entrance.