Knight of the Dead (Book 3): Fortress

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Knight of the Dead (Book 3): Fortress Page 20

by Ron Smorynski


  “Use the other one!” Howie yelled.

  It was sheer panic for her. She wasn't expecting the blasts and noise and the ferocious attacks right upon her. A zombie tore her forearm flesh and she screamed in hysterics then blacked out.

  “Oh fuck! Oh fuck! God damn it!” Howie cried, yanking at her. He turned the Hummer, while still holding her. “No Lita, no.... wake up... no...”

  He raced back to the SUV, careening into everything.

  Duanne waved at him, as zombies rushed after them. “Oh shit, slow down!”

  Howie crashed the Hummer into a mass of zombies. The Hummer lurched up and over another car as it splattered the mass.

  “No Lita!” the woman cried from outside as she saw her horrid wound.

  Howie cried as Lita bled profusely, blood squirting from an artery. He cringed in emotional fury at how much blood was pouring out of her arm. He hit the reverse and gunned hard.

  Duanne and the other two came running up. They had no time. Howie's crash opened up the area.

  The big fat guy raced in, slobbering emotional due to his inevitable demise. The Hummer reversed and slammed into him, crushing him under.

  “Oh God-damnnit Howie! Son of a bitch!!!” Duanne yanked the other passenger door open of the Hummer and grabbed the other two as they leapt in. “Let's go! Let's go!”

  They crawled in crying hysterically. Duanne moved to the front passenger window to take a look at Lita bent over, but then saw Howie pointing a gun at him. Lita looked up with those crazed zombie eyes. Duanne leapt away as Howie fired, blowing her brains out.

  Duanne crouched, jumped to the passenger door, to the other man and woman. Both were beaten and crying, lying atop each other. They were richly armed, had special forces looking armor and gear, but were obviously civilian types.

  “Ray, Ray? Get your gun up. This is all fucked up and we gotta go!” Duanne yelled. “Cherry, you ready? You good! Remember how we trained you!”

  Cherry nodded. She got up and readied her AR-15. Ray had an AR-15 as well. Both clambered to get into sitting positions to shoot. Duanne saw a mass of zombies suddenly rush up to the Hummer. He heard Howie scream in the vehicle.

  Duanne pointed out the windows, yelling for the others to fire their guns. It was tight and confining in there, they had too much gear on and were stuck amidst belts and straps. The zombies rushed in and banged up the driver's side of the massive car.

  Duanne, still unopposed on the other side of the Hummer, scooted to the passenger window opposite the zombies and driver. He caught Howie's blank stare. The zombies were banging on the window but had not broken it. Then Howie put the gun in his mouth.

  “No! Howie! I need you!” Duanne yelled. “No God damn it! I NEED YOU!”

  Howie looked at Duanne, ready to go.

  “I need you for God's sake! I need you!” Duanne begged.

  Howie paused only a moment, but it was enough. Duanne looked beyond Howie, glaring at something new. Howie followed Daunne's look past the bashing cannibals.

  Warriors with blades cut into the zombie horde. They were a wall of warriors swinging carefully and controlled. Duanne saw as they hacked away at the slow moving hordes. Their swings were calm, controlled, and brutally effective.

  He then saw one of those horrific big ones lumber toward them, but it flopped like a wet rag. And he saw the little girl on the roof, with a rifle like his. She killed it. One shot, one kill, even as it moved. He thought a moment about the distance. It was nearly 800 meters. He remembered snipers bragging to him about distance on set, but... what the hell was he doing? He rushed around the front of the stalled Hummer and blasted away at the closest ones. But he realized something. He saw Ray and Cherry firing haphazardly out their windows.

  “Ray, Cherry, cease fire. Get back. Get back!” Duanne motioned. “Don't fire! No friendly fire, got it! Stay inside!”

  “Oh my God, Lita! No!” Cherry cried.

  Duanne rushed around. He pulled out a fancy short sword and used his rifle like a shield, raising it against the zombies. He then used his muscular and well trained build, swinging his sword at the plethora of zombies around him.

  The group came on, hacking row after row. Duanne watched and realized his swings were too wild, too showy. That's how he was taught to swing, for his epic film roles. Their swings were tighter, smoother, and quick. He copied theirs, realizing the efficiency and effectiveness. He then saw one of the woman wave at him, to come. He realized fighting wasn't their goal, but give them enough time to escape.

  He backed to the passenger side of the Hummer and opened the door. He let Lita fall out. She was just a ragged corpse now. Duanne stared down at her crumpled bloody body on the ground. It was now part of all the dead zombies, to rot and be forgotten. It was his dear friend Lita, who laughed and laughed. They drank tequilla together and remembered his wife, her husband, their losses. He looked up to see Howie pointing his gun at him.

  “We gotta go Howie. It's what she wanted,” Duanne said.

  Duanne felt the bullet penetrate his head. He felt he deserved it. He blinked. Howie put the gun down and put the Hummer into drive. Duanne jumped in, plopping on Lita's blood. He rubbed his forehead, thinking there was a bullet hole there.

  Howie drove the damn Hummer around and around, running over zombies. He drove casually now, gritting his teeth and rubbing his chin, casually turning the driving wheel.

  “Howie? We gotta get to them,” Duanne said, motioning back frantically.

  “Yeah yeah, lemme help like this, like I should have,” Howie replied. He turned down on Sunset where there was more room, then came back up the street, plowing through zombies. He turned into the school grounds, in the playground where masses of them still were.

  “Let's see how bad ass this Hummer really is, for Lita!” Howie howled. He drove around in circles in the open area, just splattering zombie after zombie.

  “Whooohooh! For Lita!” Duanne howled back.

  “Whooh...” Ray tried feebly. Cherry leaned against Ray, realizing with all their training in their fancy panic room all this time, she still wasn't ready for any of this.

  Lena and the others saw as the new people were going crazy in the playground, wreaking havoc. They backtracked to some school doors, easily going back in and locking it up.

  Howie felt like the circle of driving was turning into a mud fest, a muddy bloody driving course. The zombies were just pathetic and scattered, all across the school, the neighborhood. He got bored driving around. There weren't enough of them now. He slowly drove the smoking, choking, cranky beast of a Hummer up the ramp and into the courtyard.

  He left a few zombies there, crawling, limping, staggering. The steel doors adjacent the shattered cafeteria opened and those warriors came out.

  Within the school, Duanne gave his Hollywood smile, the best he could under the circumstances.

  “You're that guy?” Cory said.

  Lena and Lisa couldn't help but smile. It was odd to see a big movie star, an action star. But then again, everything about now was odd.

  “Yes, I'm Duanne Hendersen. And I'm here, well, we're here, cuz we saw, we heard, we knew, but didn't know. We waited. And when we saw that school bus lead all them damn things away, we knew it was time. We knew we had to come.”

  “Holy shit! That is awesome!” Cory belted. He went up and hugged Duanne who was a little taken back but hugged back as best he could.

  “Cory,” Lena cleared her throat.

  “Oh sorry, cool man,” Cory let go.

  “We got lots of food, ammo, medicine sort of, stuff back at the panic rooms, back at our fancy enclosure. We're just a few blocks away.”

  “Tell them how many we were,” Cherry suddenly said.

  Duanne looked back at her, and at Howie, who was emotionally withdrawn.

  Cory realized this wasn't a celebrity meet. He stepped back next to Marcus and Stu.

  Duanne looked down, then back at the group, trying a polite concerning smile, an act, that led
to the realness of the situation. “Yes, we... lost a lot of good people...” Duanne looked about. “I'm sure you have too?”

  “Yes, a lot,” Lena replied.

  “Whose in charge here?” Duanne asked, looking to Steve or another male, not rudely, just a quick glance, then catching himself.

  “My Dad led the zombies away. He's in charge here,” Lena said. “But he's not here right now.”

  Duanne nodded. “Was he the guy on the motorcycle, in the truck?”

  “That knight in armor?” Ray asked.

  Lena nodded.

  Duanned looked to Ray, Cherry, and Howie. They looked away. Duanne had to say it. “Some of our guys tried to copy him, but... didn't make it. How'd he do it? How'd he fight? How'd he survive?”

  “He'll tell you, when he gets back,” a woman said.

  Duanne looked. They all looked.

  “This is my mom,” Lena said. “I guess she's in charge now, till Dad gets back.”

  “Oh okay, nice to meet you,” Duanne said, putting out his hand.

  She took it but didn't really look at him. She looked at all of them. “We all need to rest. This was a horrible day. We all need to hide and not lure them to us anymore. I want us all to seal the doors, all of them. Look for any damaged doors. Let's use those doors we got from the apartments. We're going to hide in the upper classrooms and get some rest, together.”

  They all took a sigh of relief in their own way.

  “Early in the morning, when it's coldest, I want the men up and clearing out those bastards from our home.”

  They all looked up at her and nodded.

  34. Home

  When Dad came clambering up the escalators at Hollywood and Highland, he wished they were working. But up he went, tired and stiff. He smelled the cold brisk air of the morning. It was raining outside. It was wonderful. He had walked all night, like a zombie, through the metro tunnel.

  There were quite a few zombies down there. After a few dozen kills, he realized they weren't reacting to him. So he just walked past them. Perhaps, in the dark, for so long, in the cold, they became lulled, stiff. And he also realized, he probably looked and smelled like a giant zombie turned inside out. Plus, he walked, rambled like one. Only a momentary chuckle attracted one.

  He got up to the street level and stared out at the rain. It was hazy and clean looking. He saw the rain wash away the sins, the blood and stains on the sidewalks and streets. He saw weeds growing in already, where little isles of rotted corpses were turning into mounds of soil, returning to the Earth.

  He walked out to the rain to let it wash his dusty armor, having walked however many miles in that dark lonely tunnel. He leaned against a car and let the rain pitter-patter on his armor. The coolness of the water and the cold humid air gave him vigor. But being so close to home and to his wife and family gave him even more life and joy.

  He thought for a moment about how it could be a nightmare of loss if his diversion didn't work. He did not know for sure, but the joy in him, the peace upon returning assuaged his heart. He prayed much in that long walk. It was meditative and prayerful, for he could not go to a dark place, to an angry place. He could not.

  He saw many zombies. They stood in the rain confused. He walked by them in his armor ready to use his handy axe. A few rambled toward him in that downpour, but lost him as he passed.

  And to the school he went, to his wife, to his love, to his family, his Lena, Lisa and little Charlotte.

  35. Journal

  I am home, with my wife. I am home. How I love thee my wife. My dear Charlotte, how I love thee... hah. Poetic or something. Scribbling in my school notebook. Lena, Lena my first daughter, strong and now a woman. A woman. How I love my life, in all this, this terrible world. What is God doing? What are You doing? Why all this pain and suffering, this land filled with demons... this Hell?

  I shall fear not. I do not fear, here in the dark, with my wife as she sleeps, as I write by the light of a phone. Benjamin, good ole Benjamin hiding in his room and making it. And Amador in there, ashamed but safe. It's okay. I'll make him work aplenty! Construction, construction, construction. Fortifying this place. Seeing what we must do.

  Wow, the dead. Wow. So much. We're still killing them from the great mounds. What work. Lots of work. So much to do. And now, every morning, we go out and kill, kill, clear, clear, zombie after zombie across the many blocks.

  The movie star, Duanne Henderson, a good man. He knows his place. He trains well and seems he just wants to entertain everyone, tell stories with each dog food meal. That's good. He's great.

  Odd. I thought Steve would get along with him, but Steve wants to do what I promised. And so I promised. He wants his own place, his own way, with his life, his homosexuality. I must say it, and I accept it. No, I do not accept the sin, but I accept that he is who he is. I accept that and love him nonetheless. But I will not change who I am either and what I am doing here. He wants to live his sin outward, free he thinks. If that is what he wants, he can have it. But not here, amidst what I am leading. I have set the rules. I am in charge.

  I am not kicking him out. But I am not accepting his sin, to be put on this place. I know others do not agree. Live and let live I heard someone say. But in order to live and let live, someone decides what the living is, and I am. It is my decision. For now.

  Steve wants to move on, make his own fort, his own realm, and that is fine. And to that end, we will help him. I will help him. For that is the Christian thing to do.

  But Tom is staying. I saw it. I did or didn't know. I don't know, in Christ, he is saved, in his manhood, in his sense of duty. I do not know. But in Jesus, he has come to this, a parting that I will not partake in. They must decide themselves and so on. Steve and I will seek out his new place, that he must fight for and save others, of his kind, there in West Hollywood, as he wishes. It is his choice. May Christ be with him, that I do not know.

  Eva is alive. Unbelievably. She hid. She is not a fighter. That is fine. She talks less, which I like, as long as she doesn't go crazy. I don't know. It is not for me to decide. I'll let the brave women decide how to handle her.

  We never found Jerry. I feel bad but... I just feel bad. He is with Julianne now. Hurry in... I remember...

  Robert and Ellie are still able and ready. I think they have forgiven me, understanding in the confusion I did not know. I have not spoken about it with them. After all, I did many other things to save everyone.

  Lena is with Marcus, to what degree I do not know. I must talk to them soon, about marriage, about life together, even now, in this place, this hell, that we are charged to remain in. And make heaven or a new Earth, I do not know.

  Lena, my daughter, and brave brave Marcus, we shall see.

  Lisa is as good as ever. She hangs out with the kids, playing and training. She seems reticent to talk about or reluctant to act upon any relationship. That's fine. But as Benjamin says, the future is the children, and I am not getting any younger. We will need a swathe of children, of many children, sooner than later, and that is why we must build out, fortify out, and keep up the clearing out of the dead.

  Rondo runs around now, barking at the groups of zombies. It seems he is herding them. Barking and keeping a distance, leading them toward us. They seem confused by his barks, less alert, which gives us time to kill them. It has been working great in the early mornings, when its coldest. It has been cold throughout the night, stiffening them.

  We had a memorial or funeral or something, a wake? I couldn't speak. I thought of Julianne and Jerry. My wife said some things and thanked me and Rick Gomez for risking everything, for them. Rick is with Christ. Finally, in this wretched hell he called out to him before it was too late.

  Lena said kind words for Ginger. She just never had a chance in this world. I thought of a gentle flower in a war. I did not speak up.

  Kristina thanked me for saving them.

  Stu and Marcus said some stuff for Darryl, their best buddy, their brother. Lisa cried
. Was he special to her? I don't know. I never talked to her or Lena about it.

  No one knew Eddie and Trek. The remarks were sullen, sadly. Because no one knew what to say.

  Duanne and Howie talked of their friends. Howie cried for Lita. They talked about Ernie the big movie producer and how he saved them, to die almost making it here. Others identified him as the old guy swinging the samurai sword. I did not see him. Ray and Cherry talked about their friends who tried to rescue their kids and never returned. It was tough. It was an exhausting night. I don't want to do it again. But I know we will have to.

  Amy saluted me. She looked exhausted yet knew we can fight the most frightening thing ever, a horde of monsters. We can fight them. Amy knows now. She seems a bit older in her eyes. I stared at her knowing eyes close up. We touched foreheads and hugged. Thank you for saving us like Jesus she whispered. She then ran off to play and work with Maggy, Carl, Sofia as they took orders from Charlotte. I couldn't help but smile after them. Children... are... the... future.

  The city is different now. The spread is different. The fires burned many blocks, randomly this and that, perhaps the older buildings and homes. The larger modern ones seem intact, the larger ones. The rains put out the fires, leaving a few smoldering embers. The air is cold and crisp, now that its winter. I think the zombies are stiffer, slower, at least for now.

  I destroyed The Horde, or they returned to Hell, through that Gate! And the Angels sent them there with sword and trumpet! Alleluia. They have not swelled in numbers at all, not like that, not since then. Each morning in the cold, we go out, kill many. They don't bark or alert as much.

  Tom and Nick are setting up fire pits in the ground, though not needed right now. But if needed, all that is needed is there, ready to go. And oh boy, did I mention the mound of zombies. Man... stinking up the place, everywhere... putrid filthy disgusting.... oh well.

 

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