“Grab all the weapons you can.” Kendra broke the silence. “It’s time we took the war to the Dead Ones.”
Alan was already way ahead of her. He darted all around the room, looking for anything destructive. He found multiple pistols around the room, and split them into two groups: one for Kendra, and one for himself. With Kendra only having one useable arm, she would need as many pistols as she could carry. Alan found a shotgun for himself. It was double-barreled and looked like it could pack a punch. It would be a perfect zombie-killing tool.
Alan attached as many holsters as he could find to himself, and began to fill them with the pistols he’d gathered. He found holsters for Kendra, loaded them, and helped put them on her. She might not ever admit it out loud, but she enjoyed him fitting all the holsters onto her. Having his undivided attention was nice. She trusted him more each day, and now, she wouldn’t trade his company for anything.
Alan then fitted the shotgun on his back. “Anything else you think might be useful?” He asked Kendra, seeing if she saw something he missed.
“Ummmm. Have you found any grenades or explosives?”
“Let me see.” Alan scanned the room for anything that might go boom. He located a few grenades, but they were crudely made, definitely not military grade. “I found these, but nothing else.”
“They’ll have to do. Give them to me. I still have one good arm.” She instructed him.
He handed the grenades to her. “About time we got down there. They need all the help they can get.”
“Right. We should go.”
The air felt almost static, like a field of energy had been created between them. Almost simultaneously, they leaned in to kiss each other. They knew that one or both of them might not come back. Neither one of them wanted to join the fight without what could be a last kiss. The kiss lasted for only a few moments, but those few moments were filled with passion and care. They highly enjoyed kissing each other, and even in the midst of a zombie invasion, they were happy.
The kiss finally broke, and they both drew the revolvers that Mr. Vaughan had gifted them. The Dead Ones were gaining ground, and there was no time to lose. Alan and Kendra worked their way down the stairs. There were fewer people in the stairwell now, but the crowd was still sizeable. It took awhile for them to push through the mass of people and reach the ground floor.
By the time they had reached the ground floor, the Dead Ones had already breached the front doors of Refuge. While there were still many people fighting, a great number of them had fallen. Many were on their way to becoming on of the Dead Ones, and others had killed themselves, knowing precisely what would happen if they hadn’t. It was becoming evident that this wasn’t a fight that they could win. They were simply holding off the inevitable.
Wasting no time, Alan a Kendra began firing their new revolvers into the horde. The heads of the nearest Dead Ones exploded into a mist of gore the hue of their discolored blood. In a flash, their guns were empty. They holstered the revolvers and switched over to other weapons. Kendra grabbed the next gun on her waist and started to fire. Alan reached for his shotgun and joined Kendra in slaughtering the undead.
The fight had been going well. The people of Refuge fought well, even as their ranks thinned by the minute. Alan and Kendra were some of the most experience killers of the undead that now resided in Refuge. They led the defense and were holding their own more than expected. The air became thick with gun smoke, and the noise of the firearms was deafening.
Kendra was draining her pistols of ammunition every second. As a pistol would empty, she would throw it at one of the shambling corpses in an attempt to slow it down. At this rate, she’d be out of pistols in mere minutes. Alan’s shotgun was running low on ammo as well, and the horde of Dead Ones looked as though it had grown no thinner. They’d held their own this long, but things were looking grim. Without a plan, they wouldn’t survive the next hour.
The Dead Ones kept flowing into the door, and the people of Refuge couldn’t hold up their defenses any longer. They were about to be overrun. Kendra emptied her last firearm and chucked it at the closest zombie. She remembered the crude grenades that Alan had found, and she hatched a last-ditch plan to buy them some time.
“Everyone back!” She yelled out.
The citizens of Refuge didn’t give it a second thought. They retreated in an instant. Only Alan stayed where he was standing, refusing to leave Kendra.
“Alan, go!” She yelled to him.
“No! I won’t leave you!” He yelled back.
“I have a plan! Just stand back!” She insisted.
Alan knew there was no arguing with her. He simply did as she asked and stepped back. All he could do now was hope that she knew what she was doing, and pray that she would be safe. Kendra readied her grenades, and took a deep breath as the Dead Ones inched ever closer.
Kendra tossed the first grenade in front of her. It hit the floor and slid into the crowd of Dead Ones. Seconds later, the grenade erupted in a storm of shrapnel, dismembering a sizeable amount of the crowd of corpses. She had 2 crude grenades left, and she hoped her plan would work. She tossed the remaining 2 grenades in quick succession at the door of the tower. It was already damaged, and she hoped this would finish its destruction.
The grenades exploded and the door of Refuge began to break and collapse. A cloud of dust and smoke formed in the room, and by the time it had cleared, there was no longer a door to Refuge. The door was now nothing more than a pile of rubble. The horde of Dead Ones was now trapped outside, and the survivors were trapped inside.
Kendra smirked, realizing that her plan had actually worked. She had saved Refuge, even if only temporarily. She was so elated with the success of her plan that she never heard anyone behind her.
“LOOK OUT!” Alan shouted out to her. He was, regrettably, too late to warn her.
Kendra screamed out in pain as she felt the teeth sink into her flesh. The skin was broken and she began to bleed from her arm. She looked to see a Dead One, still animated, driving its teeth down into the flesh of her right arm. Her face turned to horror, knowing that she was infected. She knew that she would turn into one of those walking horrors. Although she didn’t know it, she’d begun to cry, thinking only of losing the only person she truly cared for.
Alan brandished one of his pistols and unloaded into the Dead One. He emptied the entire 13-shot clip into the corpse, shredding the head and killing the undead creature. Alan rushed forward to Kendra, catching her as she dropped to her knees. He examined the wound and knew, just as she did, that she was doomed to become one of those abominations. Alan wanted to comfort her, but he knew there was no real way to do so. Instead, he just kissed her forehead and held her.
The room fell silent, and the survivors looked on, saddened that another of them was infected. Suddenly the silence was broken by the sound of a slow clap. Malcolm entered the room, applauding, seemingly happy about the chain of events.
“Kendra, that was a brilliant plan.” He spoke, complimenting her. “However, I couldn’t allow you to go unpunished. I brought a Dead One to me and commanded it to attack you. You may have won the battle, but at what cost?”
Alan drew his revolver, pointing it right at Malcolm’s face. “Fix her, NOW!” He spoke with unbound fury.
“I know that revolver is empty, Alan. Don’t take me for a fool.” He replied. “Kendra will turn, then I will force her to turn you, Alan.”
Alan was at a loss. He knew he could do nothing to save her or attack Malcolm without making the situation worse. He simply stayed close to Kendra, refusing to leave her side. It was then that the tables turned without warning. Malcolm was knocked to the floor. Over him, stood Luke Jones, the man who had given Alan information on Malcolm. Luke stood over him, and pinned him to the floor with his foot.
“Luke?” Alan said in disbelief.
“No need to thank me, Alan. I was happy to slug this piece of scum. He’s all yours.” He replied, as he kicked Malcolm in the h
ead, forcing him to pass out.
Alan stood and picked up Malcolm’s dead weight, and proceeded to carry him back upstairs. “Come on Kendra, we’re going to fix this.”
“Where are we going?” She asked, rising up onto her feet.
“We’re going to interrogate Malcolm, find a cure, and then kill the bastard.” Alan replied, full of anger.
He carried Malcolm all the way up the stairs to the 15th floor, where the weapons were all kept. There, he tied him to a chair and gathered some weapons to use as torture tools. He was going to make him fix Kendra’s infection, no matter the cost.
Kendra followed him up, feeling sick and drowsy. By her guess, she had a day at most before she became one of the dead.
18
Alan brought his fist down hard on the side of Malcolm’s face. “Wake up, maggot.” He said scornfully.
Malcolm opened his eyes, his vision blurred. “Is all that really necessary?” He asked, groggily.
Alan gave no response. He simply readied his improvised torture tools, and prepared to begin his interrogation. He would make Malcolm talk, he would find a way to save Kendra, and then he would end Malcolm’s existence without a second thought. Alan had come very far in the past weeks. He knew he was fully capable of murdering this man. Truthfully, he thought he would even enjoy it.
“Tell me how to cure her, Malcolm.” Alan said, not even looking at him.
“What makes you think she can be cured?” He replied.
“Call it a hunch.” He said, sharpening two knives against each other.
“That supposed to scare me?” Malcolm asked with a smirk.
Alan shot him a look. “I don’t expect to scare you.” He said, stepping towards Malcolm. “I expect to break you.”
Alan drove a knife into Malcolm’s left arm. He screamed in pain as the knife ripped through his flesh. A stream of blood flowed down his arm, and the blood stained the iron blade jammed into his limb. Malcolm couldn’t move his arm, and the knife had been driven all the way through, jutting out the other side of his arm.
“Feel like talking now?” Alan asked.
Malcolm breathed heavily. “Piss off, boy”
Alan didn’t like that one bit. Without warning, he took a second knife and jammed it into Malcolm’s right leg. He howled in pain, screaming and cursing in a language that Alan didn’t understand.
“Oh, so you are foreign.” Alan spoke, just before giving him a backhanded smack to the face. “Talk, now!” He roared.
Kendra looked on. She wasn’t feeling well, but tried to ignore it as best she could. She was glad that Alan captured Malcolm, and that he was trying to find a way to cure her, but she didn’t like seeing him like this. His rage, his fury, it was scary. It almost reminded her of her father when he got angry. Tears welled up at the thought, but she tried to focus on the important thing. Alan was trying to help.
Malcolm’s breathing was getting heavier. “Yes… I am foreign…” He took another deep breath. “What… of it?”
“I can’t quite identify the accent or language. I’m curious to know where you’re from. What information we found on you sheds no light on your origins.” Alan said. “You can tell me where you come from… or I can drive more knives into your waste of a body. Your choice.”
Malcolm pondered this for a moment before speaking again. “The accent and language you hear are from a small country outside Russia. It’s a local dialect that makes it somewhat more difficult to identify.”
“Russia…” Alan said. “The same Russia that bombed us and created this living nightmare?”
“Is there any other?” Malcolm quipped.
Alan picked up a rope from the table and began to tie the end of it into a crude monkey’s fist. “You were a scientist of some kind, yes?”
“I was. What of it?”
“The kind of scientist that could help create bio weapons?” Alan pushed his interrogation further.
“I’m not inclined to answer that question.” Malcolm replied.
Alan, having finished the knot on the end of the rope, swiftly turned and swung the rope at him, with the monkey’s fist hitting him in the side. Malcolm’s reaction would have been much louder had he not had his breath knocked out of him.
“Feeling inclined yet?” Alan said, his voice still dripping with anger.
“Fine…” Malcolm said, regaining his breath. “I grew up as a scientist in Russia, developing weapons. Happy now?”
“Far from it. Tell me, Graves… is this all your fault? Did you create X7?”
Malcolm said nothing, prompting Alan’s rage to bubble to the surface. “Tell me now, you bastard!” He roared. “DID. YOU. CREATE. IT?” Alan threw punches at his face between each word, and Malcolm’s face was sure to bruise and bleed with further punishment.
Malcolm was in agony. Alan was hurting him bad, but a part of him couldn’t help but laugh. He found Alan’s rage humorous, but at the same time, he knew he couldn’t survive this much longer. He was cut off from his horde for the moment. There was only one way to stop the torture.
“Yes. I created X7.”
Alan moved like lightning. He grabbed a gun from the table and held the muzzle to Malcolm’s head. “You’re going to tell me the everything, or you’re going to get this entire clip of bullets right between the eyes.” He spoke in a more demanding tone than he had ever conjured up before.
Malcolm sighed before beginning his story. “Years ago, I was contacted by the Russian government. They wanted me to help develop new weapons of warfare. They were specifically looking for chemical weapons. They paid me a substantial amount of money to create a chemical weapon that would cripple America. In the years that followed, I created my X-Series of chemical weapons.”
“There’s more than just the one?” Alan interrupted.
“Why’d you think it’s called X7?” Malcolm asked.
“Just keep talking.” Alan commanded.
Malcolm did just that. “The first 6 attempts at a devastating chemical ended in failure. I was beginning to think it was impossible, and the government officials were breathing down my neck. It was then that I found my golden goose, as it were. I synthesized a stable chemical that wreaked havoc on the human body. I began testing it before I told my benefactors about it. In my experiments, I learned the most extraordinary thing.”
“What? That your chemical turns the living into the undead?”
“Precisely.”
Malcolm continued before Alan could speak again. “X7 was almost magical. It could deform the body, make organs shut down, and could easily be dispersed through aerial bombing. The curious part was that it never killed the brain. It reduced it to nothing more than an engine for the body, keeping it moving, but reducing itself to nothing more than a primal instinct. The infected people were driven to infect the still living through biting them. By sheer accident, I had created functional zombies. It occurred to me that I could devastate America, and perhaps even the world.”
“So that’s it? That’s how we got into this situation?” Alan asked, pressing the muzzle of the gun against Malcolm’s forehead.
“Well there’s still my little secret about controlling the zombies.” Malcolm began the final part of his story. “Once I had finalized X7, I dared not tell my employers until I had a way to capitalize on it. I secretly began developing an extension of X7. I created a substance that held sway over the functionality of X7. In essence, I made something that controls anything infected with X7. I can’t control anyone only partially converted, like Kendra, but anyone who has become one of the Dead Ones is fully susceptible to my control.”
“Very interesting.” Alan said, completely deadpan. “One more thing. TELL ME HOW TO FIX HER, NOW!” Alan roared out.
“You won’t fix her.” Malcolm laughed like some kind of psychotic, deranged clown. “The X7 will be working its way through the blood very soon. You cannot save her.”
Alan cried tears of rage. His anger reached new heights, and without
warning, he pistol-whipped Malcolm across the face, knocking him out again. He turned to Kendra, who stood near the entrance of the room. Next to her stood Luke Jones, who had been watching Alan’s interrogation.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Alan apologized to Kendra. “I just couldn’t handle the thought of you becoming one of those monsters. I’ve never felt so much rage.”
Kendra wrapped her arms around Alan. “It’s ok. I probably would’ve felt the same in that situation. Kendra began to cry, wishing this embrace could last forever. She was slowly realizing the reality of the situation. She was going to die.
Alan held her close, wishing there was something he could do to save her. Malcolm had said there was no way to save her. Once the chemical began to work its way through her system, it would destroy her, and turn her into another walking corpse. Alan scraped over those thoughts in his mind, and suddenly, his eyes widened.
“Luke, go down to the medical bay and tell them they have an incoming patient. Go! Quick!” He instructed Luke.
Luke didn’t question it, and he began to run all the way to the medical bay, carrying Alan’s message. Alan grabbed Kendra’s hand, and spoke. “We have to run, now.”
“What’s going on?” She asked as they began a mad dash to the medical bay.
“I have an idea. I think I can save you.”
19
Alan and Kendra reached the medical bay in mere minutes. As they rushed in, Alan began barking orders to the doctors. “Tie off her arm just above the bite wound! We need to stop the infection from spreading!”
The doctors did just that. “You want us to amputate the arm?” One of the doctors asked.
“No.” Alan answered. “We are going to remove the blood around the wound. We can remove the infected blood, and stop it from ever reaching the brain.”
“Sounds about as plausible as anything else we could do. There is a problem however.”
“What is it?” Alan asked.
“We have no supply of blood to replace her blood with. We’d have to have someone give blood for it.” The doctor said.
The Dead in River City Page 10