Knight of the Dead (Book 3): Fortress

by Ron Smorynski

  Everyone nodded. The sounds of their armor and arms suddenly clanged and clanked into ready position. Swords raised and polearms leveled. They marched up to Hollywood Boulevard.

  The nearest zombie immediately saw them. It ran up and over cars barking and banging. Dad sliced it as it leapt. Another reached Steve. He shield bashed it, calmly walking up and slicing down on its crumpled, contorted body.

  Dad waved for them to follow. They turned left along the sidewalk, and marched to the bike and the dozen zombies standing there. They were all heaving in some trance-like state.

  Zombies could be heard barking up and down the boulevard like some alarm system. Barks were heard further out. Dad looked about, hearing the echoes along the hillside, coming through the rustling trees and barren apartments up and down the streets. So much for subtleties.

  "Let's move," he growled. They marched forward. Dad was on the right, and knew that on Steve's left, the big guy would be charging out from the apartments or bushes. Dad should have been there but he was concerned about the street. Steve was anxiously focused on the dozen zombies near the fallen bike.

  Dad sliced across another zombie leaping over cars to his right from the expanse of Hollywood Boulevard. The dozen zombies at the bike still didn't react. They were only a block away. They were on the sidewalk like his group. One car jutted out from the jammed street. The driver must have run over the curb, blocking part of the sidewalk. The zombies surely sensed him and his warriors coming.

  He growled as those guarding zombies slowly pivoted to face them. Dad saw several more zombies coming through the cars ahead. He could hear Randall fighting one or two behind him.

  "You good Randall?" Dad yelled.

  "I'm good!" Randall yelled back. "But I got about a dozen coming. Might need help."

  Dad turned but still held the front position. He saw more than a dozen coming, their heads bobbing furiously amidst the parked cars. Many were coming from the neighborhood blocks, many from along the street.

  Randall engaged another, standing next to Sean, who stared at Dad waiting for him to signal to go. Dad turned back to see the zombies guarding the bike, just standing there.

  "Sean, do your thing! Let's get these zombies!" Dad swung his sword about with each command. He waved Sean off, and pointed his sword at the guards. He marched forward as Sean gunned the gas on the bike and zipped around.

  Randall back stepped, slicing zombies reaching for him. The plan was a little awry but hopefully Sean would lead some away. Randall was good at defending but not very effective at killing quickly.

  Dad stomped ahead to the dozen. He wanted to finish them off. They suddenly reacted, all crouching and leaping forward.

  "Dad!" Lena cried out in warning.

  Dad instinctively knew that frightened call. He raised his left arm and stepped to his right toward the cars. He knew the spacing and let the incredible slam throw him against the car.

  The windows smashed as he crashed into it. The heavy beast of limbs felt like padded rocks pounding against him. He saw the green dead eyes of the Frankenstein like monster up against his helmet's holes. He couldn't tell in that moment if they stared with knowing at him, demonic, or just like some animal attacking.

  Dad lost a breath of air. He knew to breathe in calmly yet quickly or he'd exhaust immediately and his legs would give. He felt they were twisted already and one ankle screamed. Did he sprain it? Break it? He couldn't tell but pain shot up. Please God!

  "Graahh!" he heard Steve call out.

  Dad grappled against the heavy set zombie creature. It was like grabbing through tree limbs. He had to sustain an upright position. If he fell, he knew he'd be crushed under. He could hear the crunching metal of the car as he was pushed along it. The giant zombie was heavy and powerful, pushing him and denting the car.

  He realized that the car probably saved him from being slammed against the ground. He could just see Steve swinging at zombies, but not at It. Steve was surrounded, cutting and backing away, raising his shield and slicing. Steve screamed as a zombie leapt on him. Dad's helm suddenly jerked. He was turned and saw the flash of naginata blades burst through the backs of zombies as they convulsed in paralyzing falls.

  He had to contend with this bashing beast. Another zombie leapt upon him but was crushed by It, who retracted its limb, its fist. And then Dad saw the fists come down upon him.

  The stone like fists bashed Dad's helm. If it wasn't for the car's metal, Dad's head and neck might have gone fully back. He felt blurry, stunned. He grunted from the shock of the hits. His thick steel helm held. He heard it bash him again and again.

  Dad felt his armor worked, and he roused within a righteous anger. He bent his knees and got lower. He reached and bear hugged the bastard.

  He pushed out, using the car as a brace and torqued to one side. The beast held its own due to its strength and weight. Dad felt it hold one way, then stumble another. Dad switched his weight. The damn thing was strong, holding on to Dad as both fell. However, it did not comprehend wrestling and balance. Dad let his weight fall fully upon it giving payback. The damn thing was still a stupid beast and did not comprehend nor was it skilled. It landed hard, releasing Dad.

  He immediately rolled away from its flailing. Dad bear crawled and got up, having to take a few steps to catch himself. He turned and saw zombies still raging against Steve, Lena and Lisa. There was no line of protection.

  Dad charged forward. He growled. He took the charge of the zombies, bashing them with his fists, then slicing faces and necks, for he still held his sword. His years of grappling in his medieval hobby worked. He instinctively had held on to the sword even when he fell. It was just habit. He knew how to do it.

  The large zombie was not used to being prone. It rolled to one side slowly. Dad gritted his bleeding teeth as he bashed zombies, stunning them a moment. Lena and Lisa expertly jabbed their naginatas at the stunned zombies, piercing necks, mouths, eye sockets.

  Steve had a trail of limping zombies. Once he saw he had them, he used the proper swing, slicing heads off and advancing. Dad quickly looked back and saw Randall had a half dozen dead with a few more coming in. He was busy but not surrounded. Sean was off somewhere. The massing of zombies along Hollywood looked scattered.

  "Dad!" Lena called out.

  Dad turned back to see the bastard stand up, facing the other way. It turned methodically, evil like, and looked at them. Dad stepped to the right flank and Steve got to it’s left as the two naginatas reached forward between them.

  "Let's kill that fucker!" Dad growled as he stepped forward with boiling bravado. "He's got a punch! You two jab!"

  "Aagggh!" the girls cried out.

  It was dark skinned, rotted or moldy. It had that Frankenstein look. It's clothes looked odd, like work clothes maybe, but blackened and decayed. Its face was ashen dark looking. It stood like it was aware somehow but not all that aware. It lumbered forward, its arms swinging side to side and ready to strike.

  "Graaaghh!" Dad and Steve made their move. Steve raised his shield and swung low at the knees. Dad raised his gauntlet and swung low at the knees too. It swung hard on Steve's shield. It didn't break but it seemed to twirl in Steve's arm as he fell, rolling across the ground.

  Dad got his slice off. It felt like thick ligaments, something he'd need to saw like wood. He brought his sword around again and swung but it's fist met the swing and the sword stuck in the large hand. It bashed Dad against his raised arms. Dad absorbed the blow and sliced the sword out, swinging furiously at its legs. He was trying to cut anything to get it immobile.

  Steve crawled out from under the naginatas as they came in. Lena and Lisa went for the neck and head. Lisa cut the side of the neck, giving it a nice gash. Lena's naginata caught its flailing fist, punching through the thick forearm. With such solid flesh, the spear was stuck. It bashed Dad with its arms but not effectively, as Lena was pulled and thrown down.

  She yelped but in a brave grunting way.

  Dad
pushed against the large zombie, pushing up high with both gauntlets into its face. It stepped back awkwardly. Dad nearly tripped over Lena but found footing, which gave it time to catch itself. The naginata in its arm confused it. It grabbed at the impaled weapon with its free hand trying to figure out how to remove or push away the spear.

  Dad saw an expression of thinking on its face. He growled angrily at such a revelation. "Damn you!" he said, loudly roaring in his helm. He charged at it swinging furiously. Steve charged in simultaneously from the other side.

  It swung at them with both fists even as the polearm threw off its momentum. It still had a lot of strength with each attack. Dad tried again to leg it. The lumbering giant got a grip on Dad's shoulder pad, yanking him behind. Surprised, Dad flew head first into some shrubs.

  Steve realized he was fighting the thing alone and backed off. Lisa tried again and pierced her spear through its collar bone. The spear stuck. Lisa let go and backed off as Lena, ready with her shield and sword, took position to leg it.

  It rambled toward them, two spears in it, awkward yet powerful.

  Dad bounced up quickly, turned with weak knees, dropped his sword and took his hand out of his gauntlet, leaving it hanging, and then stumbled up behind the big zombie. It sensed Dad and turned. Dad aimed his .45 handgun and fired point blank up into its head.

  BANG!!!! It jerked its blown out head and dropped.

  Dad stood there and accessed the situation as his gun smoked and only a slight ring echoed in his helmeted ears.

  Randall sliced a zombie, then turned. Thankfully, he wasn't overwhelmed by incoming zombies. Steve stood bent over breathing unsteady. Lena and Lisa looked relieved.

  Dad put the .45 into a hidden holster within his brigandine armor then tucked his hand quickly back into his swinging gauntlet, and picked up his sword. He immediately hacked the damn thing in the skull a few times.

  "A gun?" Steve asked.

  ".45! Let's go," Dad said. He up-righted his bike. It would definitely not start after laying on its side this long. All the fluids were leaking from having been there a few days. He found his shield too.

  Dad patted the shield and bike. "Thank God."

  Lisa and Lena pulled out their naginatas. It was like pulling them out of soft wet wood with spongy crackling sounds.

  They marched back as zombies could be heard growling and barking at a distance. They turned down through the neighborhood. Dad pushed the bike along. Randall coasted with his. They hurried at a good pace. There weren't any zombies near but they could hear them coming. Sean's bike was also racing along northward somewhere, away from them and the school. The zombies were probably confused by the two noises, going to one, then the other.

  "I brought the .45 just in case. But I didn't want to use it cuz of the noise," Dad said.

  "Well, noise or not, that was pretty effective," Steve replied.

  "Especially against that damn thing," Dad sighed, trying to control his breathing. "Remember to breathe, calm and steady."

  He could hear their soothing exhales as they trotted along.

  A small group of fast zombies ran up the street, spotting them. Dad waved for them to stop. The zombies ran toward them but as the group stood still, the zombies, still coming, didn't bark like crazy. They got close enough and curious, using their undead senses, waiting for the scent or movement they recognized.

  They weren't like intelligent dogs sniffing for the scent. It was more like blind, deaf, and dumb just moving to the location they last remembered a sensory alarm, then getting there, awaiting the next sensory alert.

  They got so close, that Steve, Lena, and Lisa easily and quickly swung swords and naginatas. They all were dead and no barking alarm was set off.

  "Nice," Randall commented.

  As they trotted back, Sean was quietly coasting his bike from Hollywood Boulevard. He stopped at the gate, looking to and fro and giving them a thumbs up. They waved back.

  The kids on the roof waved too. Charlotte ordered them to stop and for the kids to lie back down in their spots. Even though Charlotte was far away, Dad could tell she was upset. He didn't let her get the one-shot one-kill opportunity.

  "Hey Ronan," Steve spoke up as they trotted along.

  "Yeah?"

  "You think we can get a gun now?"

  Dad turned to look at Steve, "Absolutely."

  3. Days of Guns and Lives

  After the men removed their armor, after a long rest and prayer and Bible study, they ate and chuckled then lay about some more, reading or playing a game on a phone. Sean and Nick worked on the bikes, cleaning them and checking them. They used one of the outside classrooms as a garage. They scavenged whatever tools, car oil, and auto accessories they could find in the cars. They spoke of getting more bikes and getting replacement parts. There were several bike shops in the area. One day...

  Charlotte kept watch on the roof, each kid taking turns with her. They had a tent covering where they took turns playing apps on phones. They devised a kiddy bucket on a broomstick. They 'pottied' in it, then went to the edge of the south side and used the broomstick to reach it over and pour it out. Genius.

  Dad sat in his room with his wife. He watched as she cleaned and fixed his armor. There were a few tears. She was washing it, sewing it. He read his Bible and watched her. He loved the end of Proverbs, the woman described in it, the most beautiful wife in it, that woke up before everyone, that worked the home and the field, that fed the children and sold her wares. It was the most beautiful woman he had ever read about. And he saw his wife as such. She was without makeup now, her hair brushed and pulled back. It had that greasy worn look. A few days back, they sponged bath, the women, and even shaved. How they found shaving cream and a shaver Dad wasn't sure. But still, they did. They still kept up that modern beauty. His most beautiful wife.

  Katrina had turned her room into a women's room. She setup a sponge bath area. She gathered all the makeup and hair products she could find and kept them there. It wasn't much, but gave her, Beth, and his wife a bit of repose or rest, something to remind them of the ordinary luxuries. Dad heard them crying once, no doubt at their losses. He was glad though, for them, able to cry and be together as women.

  And across the hallway, he could hear the kids giggling and playing in the library. It was peaceful. It was what he was fighting for.

  Dad brought out one of those temporary fold out tables. He set it in the school corridor just outside their room. Tom noticed first and immediately got the rest. No need for Dad to call them forth.

  He laid out the guns. Charlotte and Lena helped him. All the handguns were displayed. Everyone stood about, peering anxiously, biting nails, folding arms. The kids were there but Dad didn't want them to have handguns. He'd get them rifles.

  Sean tried to step closer, casually. Dad put up his hand and waved him back. Dad displayed the rounds for each handgun, the available rounds. He handled each pretty well. Most were semi-automatic handguns with 8-10 round magazines. One was a small revolver. He put that to the side. It didn't seem worth it, for now.

  Dad checked each one, making sure their chambers and magazines were empty. To make sure there wasn't a single round within the guns, to avoid any accidental discharges.

  "Who here can or has handled a gun before?"

  No one readily raised their hand. Sean was about to but decided against it. Steve took a step forward.

  "What do you do when you first pick up a gun?" Dad asked.

  Steve paused, staring blankly.

  Dad gave a glum look. "Okay, no one here in Los Angeles, with all you hippy liberal happy folk, knows how to handle a gun, right?"

  They all smirked in various ways.

  "And you were so anxious and annoyed that I coveted all the guns..." Dad continued with his glum look.

  They kind of chuckled, shrugging an odd irony to their angst.

  "First, always assume a gun can fire a round, no matter what. Even if it is empty and the magazine is out, you can still
have a round, a bullet, in the chamber here," Dad pulled the slide back, showing them the empty chamber. He then put his pinky in there. "Yes, I'm checking with my pinky, into the dark chamber, to make sure there is no round in there that can be discharged... fired."

  He suddenly pointed the gun down at the ground away from them and pulled the trigger. Everyone flinched.

  "To be sure, clear it." He pulled the trigger several times. The clicking made them flinch more. "I'm making sure, safely, that I have cleared the chamber of any round. I emptied the gun, I moved the slide open, I looked visually, I felt with my pinky, I then aimed safely away into the ground, avoiding ricochet as well, and I pulled the trigger several times! You will do all this, when you clean or handle your gun." He then raised the unloaded and magazine-free gun, and aimed it at them. They all made a psychological duck and surrender motion.

  "Yeah, not cool. Even unloaded. I won't do this again, and neither will you," Dad said. "Treat the gun as always loaded, even when you know it isn't. It's just a perfectly good habit. If you pull it out to handle it, aim it toward dirt or to the sky. Also, never put your finger in the trigger guard, unless you intend to shoot. Never never never... I will teach you how to handle these and clean them. Okay?"

  He spent several days going over how to handle the guns with them. It was active days of learning about the aiming, the holding, the loading rounds into magazines, then understanding loading a round into the chamber, being ready to fire. He rotated the groups with their continual sword training, Steve's little workouts, and their other chores.

  Nick’s chores revolved around cars and power. He searched out all the cars. He worked on gathering tools and electrical cables. He was into the garage setup and setting up a power grid.