“Mein Name ist Captain Scott. Ich bin von der 101st Airborne Division. Weißt du, was ist hier passiert?”
The German looked a little confused at what he had to say, he paused and then spoke, “Die Untoten?”
Harris, having no idea what was going on interrupted, “Unter what?”
Captain Scott beckoned the German to continue, “He asked if we wanted to know about the undead,” added Scott.
The soldier continued in German, explaining to the Captain as much as he knew. According to him his unit from the Ost-Battalion had been stationed further north at a small barracks, halfway to the bridge. Several nights previously there had been news of a problem at the base in this area and they had been sent to investigate. They were met by officers from the SS and told where they had to go. Apparently when the Germans arrived in several trucks at the base they found it empty. That’s when they were attacked by the creatures waiting in the containers.
After the German finished his explanation he slumped down, obviously physically and mentally exhausted from his experience. Captain Scott put his chin in his hand and muttered to himself.
“We’ve got a big, big problem.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Steiner had taken refuge in an outbuilding near the farmhouse that he’d found. The building was small but it did have a solid roof and four ramshackle walls. The only real problem was the lack of a door so he kept in the corner, safely out of sight. For now he couldn’t be seen and he was dry and out of the cold.
In the distance there had been sporadic shooting going on for several hours, but now it seemed to have quietened down. He assumed the Allies must have started their much awaited invasion of France. Either that or it was another one of those resistance groups trying to make a statement. Steiner really couldn’t give a damn either way. He’d already spent months fighting the Soviets in the East only to end up sent to the West in disgrace. To make matters worse he’d been stationed to a unit made up of soldiers from many of the places he’d been fighting. His unit was known the Ost Ballation, these were battalion size formations that wore German uniforms and equipment and were fully integrated into larger German units.
Right now Steiner was almost happy to just have his own company for a change. He wasn’t popular in his new unit and this almost made a pleasant change. What he didn’t like though was the pounding in his head from his drinking. With no water he was dehydrated and now suffering from a substantial headache that felt like somebody was inside his head and pounding away at his skull with a hammer!
Steiner had been sat there safe and dry for some time now and it was starting to drive him mad! It was time to leave the shelter; he was hungry and had little ammunition for the PPSh-41 if he hit trouble. He needed to get back to his unit and quickly. The question though was which direction to head in? He could head east to the village and the church, where there seemed to be something going on, or he could head north to the base. He went outside and looked all around. The road continued back to the base he’d left, more worrying though was that in the direction he could make out more of those staggering monsters. It looked like they weren’t heading for him, but it certainly made that way far too dangerous. Of course, the benefit of taking that road would be that there were friendly forces there as well as weapons, ammunition, food and more important than anything else right now, water to fix the dehydration! Dying, whilst trying to get a drink, wasn’t particularly appealing though.
Looking back at the village he considered the option. He’d visited the village several times and knew it contained a number of houses, various shops and of course the church. Certainly a place occupied by actual people was substantially better than dying in the open. The village offering a population that wasn’t trying to bite him seemed a far less foul option than succumbing to those animals out there. He walked back into the shelter and checked his equipment. One Soviet submachine gun and what was left in its drum magazine. He reached down to his ankle, lifting up his trouser leg to reveal a small boot knife. He took it out and examined the blade. The condition was good, probably because it had seen so little use. Putting it back he hoped it wouldn’t come to the point where it would have to be used in anger. With the knife put away he picked up his pack and weapon and then walked out towards the lightly used path across the fields. Looking in the two directions he made up his mind; the village was his destination and he needed to leave this area quickly. He would take a slight detour that would avoid the crashed tank from earlier; he didn’t want to bump into anything with bleeding teeth and the sight of the bodies from the previous battle, if you could call it that, was not something he wanted to see again in a hurry.
* * *
Smith could see the church in the distance, now only about two minutes running distance from his current position. He’d headed back on a slightly different route and this meant they would approach the crashed tank at some point soon. The gunfire that he’d heard before had stopped, but he could hear noise coming from the church. Luckily it sounded like tools or equipment being moved rather than fighting. At least he hoped that is what it was. The three men kept going, Smith leading and the other two following in a wide spaced column. As they reached a low ridge Smith ducked down and waited for the other two to catch up.
Along the other side of the ridge was a small field, bordered by a low wall which the tank had ploughed into. With a brief signal the three crept forward, Smith moving to the tank, the other two stopping short and providing cover. Once Smith reached the tank he found the stink of decaying corpses. He turned and covered his face from the stench. Fighting the urge to retch he moved closer, stepping carefully to avoid the mangled bodies. They had all been killed by a substantial amount of gunfire and the evidence of the bullet casings was all around the tank. He climbed up onto the tank and peeked inside the turret, there was another body inside but nothing unusual, well, nothing more unusual than what was outside. He jumped down, narrowly avoiding landing on a splattered hand. He moved out into the road and towards the other side.
Gardner and Lewis followed him whilst checking the bodies for any clues as to what had been going on. The two things the bodies had in common was that they were all unarmed and all in German uniforms. Either they had been disarmed and killed or more likely, they had discarded their weapons due to becoming one of those creatures.
Smith whispered to the other two, “Come on, to the church and fast!”
The three men vaulted the low wall on the other side of the road and continued their run to the church. It wasn’t far away now. Smith was thinking that they needed to evacuate the church and get back on the road as soon as they got back. The German base had shown that the creatures in this area were almost certainly related to the activities of the Germans. He’d heard about the Germans developing all sorts of wondrous and secret weapons with which to try and strike back against the Allies. So far he had seen no evidence of this and hoped it was all idle speculation. The markings and symbols on the materials at the base definitely showed the Germans had been storing something dangerous that perhaps had overwhelmed the garrison guarding it. On top of this there was all the medical research including the images, paperwork and diagrams that they’d brought back with them. This all added up to something that the British soldiers really didn’t want to get involved with until they had numbers on their side. He needed to get this intelligence back to the church then urgently to High Command. Smith suspected that this information might have great significance to the war effort.
“Sarge, look!” called out Gardner.
Instinctively the three soldiers hit the ground, each man crouching low and aiming their weapons in the direction pointed out by Gardner. About a hundred yards to their right was the shape of one of the creatures. It was stood out in the open and looking up at the sky.
“Shall I drop him?” asked an eager Lewis as he slightly adjusted his rifle sights.
Smith answered immediately, “No, we need to keep quiet. This one doesn’t seem to hav
e spotted us.”
Whilst the three men kept low they could now make out the shapes of more of the creatures in the shadows of the woods and fields. They scanned around the area; all around the horizon seemed to be moving.
Smith spoke, “It looks like they follow sound, so let’s keep going and keep the noise down.”
They both nodded and were about to move when Smith signalled for them to keep still.
Gardner swore first, “Fuck me Sarge, can you see them?”
The NCO pulled them both lower to the ground, checking their route ahead.
“We’ve been lucky. I reckon another five minutes and we’d have had them between us and the church.”
Gardner nodded in agreement.
Smith continued, “Ok, one last push and we’ll be there, keep it low and don’t stop for anything, got it?”
Smith as usual went first, his back hunched as he moved. After months of training he was both fit and very experienced at moving with the minimum of sound. This training was finally paying off, as he was now very close to the northern face of the church and could just make out an occasional movement in the church tower that must be Trent. Without stopping Smith kept jogging, following the perimeter around till he reached the low wall that had until recently been where they had fought their defensive battle against the creatures. Right behind him came the other two, both vaulting the wall as they simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief.
* * *
Inside the church the preparations were proceeding well, until the doors swung open to reveal Smith and his two companions. They were panting but by no means exhausted. Captain Scott and Lance Sergeant Jones both moved close to him. Jones tapped him on the shoulder.
“Good to see you Sarge, had a feeling you wouldn’t vanish on us.”
Smith smiled but his serious composure returned as he took the pack from Lewis and placed it on the floor.
“We’ve found some disturbing evidence, Sir” he said.
Captain Scott, unsurprised by Smith’s statement added his own comments. “Between Jones and the survivors they brought back here, I think we have a pretty good picture.”
He proceeded to explain everything that had happened so far. Smith described everything about the base, the documents he’d brought back and the number of creatures outside. Clearing space in the nave they pulled a container over and used it as an improvised table. Smith laid out the map and the German soldier wandered over. Gardner, shocked at the sudden appearance of the enemy, raised his Sten and was stopped from firing at the last minute by Jones.
“It’s ok, he’s with us.”
Gardner shook his head in disbelief, “You’re kidding me, right?”
The German soldier pointed at the base on the map, as well as the areas marked in red, and spoke with the Captain.
The Captain translated as the German spoke.
“He says this base, the one you just went to, was a drop off point from some kind of materials. He said that he and his men were sent there and then attacked by the creatures.”
Smith asked bluntly, “Do you trust him, Sir?”
The captain nodded, “I don’t see any reason why he would lie. Jones found him hiding in one of the houses and he was under attack by the creatures.”
Smith carried on, “What about the symbols on the maps, does he have any idea what they are?”
Captain Scott spoke to the German who kept shaking his head as he spoke.
“He doesn’t know, though he kept calling them the undead or something like that.”
Smith turned the corner of his mouth up at the name.
“Sounds a pretty fair description to me, they aren’t really dead or alive from what I can tell.”
They were interrupted by the German who’d been looking through the paperwork Smith had recovered from the German base. He seemed almost excited, or possibly agitated, with what he’d found and kept repeating the phrase Wiedergänger.
Captain Scott spoke first to Smith, “One moment,” and then turned back to the German.
Whilst they spoke Smith asked Jones, “How many people did you get out of the houses?”
Jones looked pleased with himself, “In total seven plus this German guy.”
Smith continued, “Any of those things?”
Jones looked at his Sten, “Yeah, we were attacked by two of them. Nothing my little friend and I couldn’t deal with.”
Smith smiled to himself, tapped Jones on the shoulder and then moved back to the Captain who was still talking to the German.
“He says that the papers you brought back keep referring to Wiedergänger, some kind of mythological undead monster. It also mentions something to do with Nachzehrer. Apparently that is a kind of undead vampire thing.”
Smith looked less than impressed with his comments; he thought for a moment. “Of course, these could just be codenames for a new weapon, maybe something that makes the dead turn into these things. What if the Germans are experimenting on making an army of them?”
Captain Scott considered his comments, “I don’t think leaving this place at night is a good idea. We’re going to have to leave the bridge for now, it sounds like we have an unknown number of hostiles out there. Getting killed isn’t going to help our guys. Agreed?”
Smith nodded in agreement.
The Captain went on, “Can you check the unit and make sure everyone is ready? I think we’re going to be here for some time.”
Smith stood to attention and saluted, “Sir,” then headed over to the other soldiers to check on their kit and readiness. In the centre of the room was a pile of weapons, presumably equipment captured from the enemy, though Smith was surprised at the vintage of some of them.
Chard was checking each of them as Smith approached.
“Some of the locals said there were weapons in the basement, looks like there are resistance cells in this area.”
Humphreys lifted himself up from where he’d been sitting for the last ten minutes. His wounds were feeling dull now and he was beginning to feel like he had a fever. After what he had seen happen to Martinez he had no intention of letting anybody think he was about to expire. He hobbled over to the northern aisle where the two French girls and a group of the locals were sat. On the wall he noticed a massive statue, it was of Saint Michael the Archangel. He remembered hearing all about the exploits of the angel when he’d been a small boy at school. The reason he recognised the angel was primarily down to the weapon he carried and the pose. This particular figure had always intrigued him as a boy, as he had been described as the Prince of Light, leading forces of God against the darkness of evil. This ‘viceroy of heaven’ was the kind of leadership figure any boy could look up to. Like many images of the angel, this version had Michael with a breastplate and wings hovering over the body of the slain beast. On his head he wore what looked like an ancient Greek helmet, whilst in his right hand he carried an evil looking blade. The helmet and sword looked as if they were made of metal, or maybe they were painted to look that way.
Near the altar the group of civilians from the village were arguing about something. Lance Sergeant Jones wandered over to see what all the commotion was about. It seemed that two of younger of the men were being accosted by the rest to do something. Quite what wasn’t exactly clear. Luckily the old French man was nearby, Jones beckoned him to join the group and asked if he knew what was going on. He listened to the conversation for a moment, getting an idea as to what they were discussing. He whispered to Jones.
“It seems they believe the two younger men are members of the resistance.” Jones looked a little confused, “I don’t understand, isn’t that a good thing?”
The conversation amongst the French civilians had been continuing and the old man had more to explain to Jones.
“Ah, I see, they are trying to persuade them to show them where the weapons are hidden,” he said.
The mention of weapons caught Jones’ attention, “Weapons you say?”
M. Poulain nodded and
Jones moved straight up to the group. M. Poulain joined him to assist with the translation.
“What is all this about weapons?”
The group turned to him, paused for a short time and then continued talking. Jones pulled one of the loudest aside and called out even louder.
“Stop that. I don’t know whether you’ve noticed but we are under siege here. If you have weapons I suggest you tell me, unless you want to get eaten like those others out there!”
The response from the group was delayed whilst M. Poulain translated. When he reached the end there were gasps. The two young men looked at each other and spoke a few words, the nearest of the two stepped towards Jones. He spoke in broken English.
“Ok, we show you guns.”
He beckoned for him to follow, leading him towards the church tower. The rest of the civilians made to follow, but Jones gave the word and two of the soldiers stepped in to keep them away. The two younger men entered the lower part of the tower and started moving the material away from the floor to reveal what looked like a hatch. One knelt down and moved his hand across the floor till he found the tiny gap where he could get a purchase. The second French man put his hand on the hatch, stopping it opening, he spoke in slow French but still not slow enough to be understood by Jones.
Captain Scott had spotted what was going on and brought M. Poulain over to see what was happening.
M. Poulain explained, “They are concerned that by showing you the cellar they will lose their secret cover in the village and won’t be able to help when the Allies make it here.”
Scott grabbed the young man that had just spoken and explained to him tersely, “Listen, we are the Allies and we are already here. We need everybody that can fight with a weapon. Those things outside are coming for us, for every single one of us.”
He pointed with his hand in an arc, tracking the group in the church.
“If there are more guns in there we need them, got it?”
Before they could answer Trent’s voice echoed down from the top of the tower. “They’re back!”
Night of the Nazi Zombies Page 12