Rapture (Apocalypse Gates Author's Cut Book 1)

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Rapture (Apocalypse Gates Author's Cut Book 1) Page 4

by Daniel Schinhofen


  “Don’t hit her,” snapped the other one who was scrubbing at her mouth.

  “Just waking her up and which one of you is Penny?”

  “She is, I’m Velma. Why does that matter?”

  “I was tasked with saving Penny and killing the zombies,” Alvin said as he picked Penny up with both arms, grunting as he did. Carrying close to two hundred pounds of dead weight is hard work. “That cabin is okay for the moment. We can use it briefly.” He started to move with Penny in his arms.

  “Hey, wait a minute! You can’t just take her,” Velma yelled.

  “Watch me,” Alvin grunted as he went past the bodies on the ground.

  “I’m talking to you, asshole,” Velma screamed as she started after him. A scared scream came from her a second later as the guy with the ruined face twitched and started to get up. “Oh, my, god!”

  Sighing, Alvin set Penny down wincing as his back protested when he stood back up. He took two steps and smashed the skull of the new zombie. The blood splashed over Velma, who was standing there, frozen.

  “Come with or stay here, it’s your choice. I only need to save her. You can be a bonus or extra XP, I don’t care which.” Alvin told her coldly as he picked Penny back up. Another scream, this one male came from back by the bonfire. “I guess he just got killed, which means I’m your last bet, Velma.”

  Seemingly in a daze, Velma followed as Alvin walked into the ruined cabin. Though the power was off, a faint light was emanating from the cabin Alvin entered even as his back twinged under the weight he carried. Staggering past the broken door, he was able to make it to the queen-sized bed, dropping Penny onto it. His muscles spasmed as he stood fully upright again, as he had been slightly hunched to carry her. “I either need to get stronger or she needs to lose some weight.”

  “We should help George,” Velma said, her voice slow and fuzzy.

  “He died, didn’t you hear the scream?” Alvin said as he twisted his body side to side. He found the source of the light, a big square flashlight that used a six-volt battery, pointed at the rear wall on the ground. He glanced at Velma, who was slumped by the door her eyes unfocused, before he headed into the bathroom. A minute of searching turned up what he wanted, painkillers. He downed four ibuprofen with the help of an open bottle of water on the counter. He didn’t find anything else worthwhile in the bathroom so he went back to the main room after putting the meds in his fanny pack.

  Velma was still by the door shaking her head, obviously suffering from post-traumatic stress and dissociating. Alvin quickly searched the dressers and suitcase, but nothing of use was to be had. “Well, fuck. Guess we do it the hard way,” he muttered as he crossed to Penny. He shook her hard and after a second her eyes fluttered open. “Penny, you back with us now?”

  “Hmm? What happened? Who are you?” Her accent was strongly evident as she spoke.

  “The guy who saved you. Look, this is going to be hard for you to accept, but zombies ate your boy-toy and are coming this way. You have only one option to get through this night alive, and that is to stay with me and do everything I tell you.”

  Penny sat up, looking at his blood-stained clothes then over at Velma who was also gore covered. “What happened to Velma? Where are we?”

  “Broken cabin that the fat guy got chased out of by the zombie. Velma is having issues dealing with reality. Now, can you cope or are you going to be dead weight?”

  Penny slid out of the bed, away from Alvin, “Look, I don’t know who you are but George will be here soon to help, okay? He was by the bon…”

  Alvin sighed as he watched her remember the zombies and George telling them to run. “Earth, or what’s left of it, to Penny, come in Penny. George died while you were out cold. You wrenched the muscles in my back to carry your useless ass in here. Now, can you cope or are you going to cost me this mission?”

  Penny looked back at Alvin, her eyes slightly unfocused, “Mission?”

  “I have to save you from being eaten by the zombies, and I have to kill all of them in the campground area. Do you know why there are some very dead zombies here?”

  “The campground is said to have an old graveyard from the early nineteen hundreds. The family that owned the area’s ancestors, it’s said to be fourteen people buried there. Why me? Why do you have to save me?”

  “That was what the fuckers who sent me here gave me as a mission. Okay, so fifteen dead, plus whoever else has been killed like the fat guy. Besides your group, how many others are staying here?”

  “Just Brent with his wife and son,” Penny replied before she sat on the bed. “We’re not going to survive, are we?” her voice was low and harsh.

  “I’m going to survive and if you can keep yourself from being an idiot and listen to me you can too. Maybe even Velma can, but I wouldn’t count on that as she seems to have given up.”

  “What do you need me to do?” Penny asked looking up, her eyes glassy.

  Rubbing his head, Alvin wanted to scream. This whole mission seemed fucked. “Just stay as quiet as you can and wait here for a minute,” he stepped past Velma and outside.

  He could make out the zombies by the bonfire milling around without a target to fixate on. Scanning the area around the cabins, he didn’t spot any movement so he went to the cabin next door and tried the knob. It opened right up, so he slipped inside, wishing he had brought the flashlight with him, but if he had the women probably would have freaked. No sound from the interior so he entered into the main room. The curtain was open, allowing moonlight to spill into the room.

  It seemed empty so he checked the bathroom and under the bed. Nothing to be seen, so he closed the curtains and slipped back out. As he went back towards the other cabin, movement between them caught his eye. A zombie lurched forward, snagging his shirt sleeve, just missing his arm. “Fuck!” Alvin cussed as he brought the bat down hard on the zombie’s head. The angle was bad so instead of dying, the zombie staggered back a step. He brought the bat down again now that there was more room, breaking the skull and killing it.

  Panting, Alvin looked back at the bonfire. The zombies had heard him and began to shuffle his way. He ran for the other cabin to find Penny rocking Velma by the door, with the flashlight in her grasp. “Get up. We need to get you into the other cabin with the door shut.”

  “What about Velma?” Penny asked looking up, tears falling from her eyes. “She seems broken? What happened to her?”

  “You get to the cabin,” Alvin told Penny, giving her a gentle nudge out the door while dragging Velma to her feet. “I’ll bring Velma.”

  Penny stumbled towards the cabin he had just came from, while Alvin dealt with the mostly unresponsive Velma. He herded her towards the cabin roughly as he kept glancing at the zombies approaching them. He pushed Velma inside with Penny, “Lock the door, not that it will stop them for long, but it might slow them down. Stay quiet in there and they might not come after you. No matter what, do not open this door until the sun comes up.” He shut the door before turning to face the oncoming horde.

  He walked towards the zombies, a couple were well ahead of the rest. As he approached he angled to the side so he had one zombie to worry about. He bashed its skull open then turned on the other one, quickly dispatching it as well. He jogged at an angle away from the cabins. He glanced back to see the zombies following him. Letting out a sigh of relief he began to play ring around the rosy with them. He would lead them around until he could get one slightly separated from the others, then he would dart in to brain it before doing it all over again.

  An hour later the zombies were all dead and his back was a pulsing, throbbing ache. He headed back towards the cabin, dry swallowing some more ibuprofen and wondering why the game hadn’t teleported him yet. As he neared the cabin he made out a small figure banging on the door to the cabin Penny was in. He recalled her saying that a child had been in the campground when the zombies started attacking. He slowed a second, shocked by the fact that a child could become a zombie as
well. As he slowed, the door to the cabin opened showing the silhouette of a woman. The zombie child lurched forward and started chewing her leg, and the woman started screaming, staggering back from the door.

  “Fuck me,” Alvin spat as he sprinted for the cabin.

  The zombie grabbed the yelling woman as it ravaged the leg. The woman flailed and kicked at the child but couldn’t seem to hurt it. As Alvin got closer he heard Penny yell, “Velma!”

  Alvin brought the bat down hard on the child, pulping the skull and brain as Velma collapsed. Blood spurted from the severed artery in her thigh where the zombie had bitten her. Penny ripped her shirt off and tried to stop the bleeding.

  “Stay with me, Velma,” Penny yelled hysterically. “Stay with me, it will be okay. George will be back soon and then we can leave. Okay?”

  “She’s dead,” Alvin cut in. “She’s going to turn shortly. You need to back away from her.”

  Penny looked up, her eyes wild, “Fuck you, this is all your fault. The zombies weren’t here until you showed up.”

  Alvin shook his head once before he kicked Penny hard in the chest, which shoved her away from Velma’s corpse. A second after that, two hands grabbed his ankle as Velma began to move again. He stepped down hard onto the new zombie’s pelvis as he swung the bat, golf style, at the rising head of the zombie. Blood splattered the door frame as Velma’s body again collapsed. He was panting as he stared down at the body.

  “What!? Why!? You killed Velma!” Penny cried, huddling into a ball.

  “The human race is doomed, if this is any example of what’s going to happen,” Alvin muttered just before the light enveloped him.

  When it cleared, he was back in his grey room. He collapsed onto his bunk. “Well, the Story Missions can be a little intense. How did I do, Scott?”

  “You completed the objective and survived,” Scott replied, his tone clearly giving away his shock. “I don’t get why you kicked Penny, though?”

  “Because the dumb bitch was going to get her throat ripped out by zombie Velma. Please tell me not everyone I meet in that game is going to be that useless.”

  “People are people where ever you go,” Scott intoned, as if it were a quote.

  With a snort, Alvin lay back on the bunk and pulled up the summary for the mission. A smile crossed his face as he looked at the XP gained. “Well, this is more profitable at least. Okay. I’ll rest for a minute, because the adrenaline dump is real. Then back into the fray again.”

  Mission Summary: Story Mission Successfully Completed.

  Total Experience Earned: 600 XP

  Breakdown: Story Success 400 XP, Shamblers killed 190 XP, Loot bonus 10 XP.

  Alvin examined his bat, which was still looking okay so he didn’t feel the need to buy a new one. After a few minutes of lying there he went to get up, only to have his back scream in protest. Grunting, he forced himself to his feet and began to stretch his back.

  “Back muscles sore?” Scott asked.

  “I don’t know how much Penny weighed, but it was easily over a buck fifty,” Alvin replied as he continued to try to get his back loose again.

  “You survived and completed your first Story Mission. Are you going to do another one?”

  “That’s the plan. That Story Mission was basically the same as doing five of the Basic Missions. Sure, it was a little harder, but it was worth it.” Alvin pulled up the store next and looked over his options before closing it out again. He pursed his lips as he considered the next few items that he wanted to purchase. “Okay Scott, heading back out. Wish me luck?”

  “Don’t die,” was Scott’s reply as Alvin tapped the Story Mission on the job board.

  “That was so encouraging,” Alvin was able to say as the light enveloped him again.

  Chapter Five

  When the light cleared, he was standing in front of a mobile home in the middle of what appeared to be a well maintained mobile home park. He could hear sirens going, screams from people and even the sound of gunshots. He checked his mission so he would know what he had to do.

  Story Mission: Elderly Issues.

  You must keep Grandma Terry safe from harm as you get her to the front gate, where her grandson will be waiting for her.

  (Why do old women always walk so slow?)

  Swiping the pop-up away, Alvin looked at the trailer before him where someone had painted the name of the owner next to the number of the unit. Terry Giardino was painted in rainbow colors next to her unit number, 196.

  Alvin went to the door and knocked, “Mrs. Giardino?”

  “Go away, you hoodlum! My grandson will be here in a minute and he will arrest you if you’re not gone.” The voice of the elderly woman from within the home carried the slightest hint of an Italian accent.

  “Ma’am, your grandson sent me to escort you out of here. He is trying to keep the front cleared so you can leave safely.”

  “Oh? You think I’m that dumb? What is his name?”

  “I didn’t get his name ma’am, only the fact that he’s a cop and should be respected,” Alvin hedged based on the arrested remark.

  “He’s a good boy. You stay there. I want to get my things before I go and if I don’t like the way you look I won’t be going.”

  Alvin sighed deeply, restraining the urge to face palm. “Please try to hurry, ma’am. The zombies will be here soon.”

  “Bah, zombies, no one believes those tales. You just wait there.” He could hear her moving about inside.

  Alvin really wished he had a set of lock picks with him, then he could just pick the lock and go in. Instead, he waited as patiently as he could. He was sure that if he forced entry into the home then the old woman wouldn’t listen to him. As he waited he kept an eye on the area. The sun was up, thankfully, so he had good visibility on this small cul-de-sac. He did notice a lack of motorized vehicles in the four driveways in the cul-de-sac and silently cursed the game for not giving him an easy win.

  “Okay, back away from the door,” Terry told him from inside.

  Alvin backed up so he was on the street as the old lady came out of the home. She had a bag on her back and was carrying a guitar case. “Let me lock up and we can go. I don’t know why James sent you, but he must have had his reasons,” Terry told him.

  Alvin repressed the urge to explain that locking her door was pointless. His hands twitched as he waited for her, wishing there was some way to hurry her along. A moment later she had locked her door and joined him on the street.

  “Ma’am, it would be good if you could give me directions to the gate,” Alvin said.

  She eyed him with suspicion, “I thought you came from the gate?”

  “I was in a hurry and don’t remember the way back,” Alvin lied. “I was too busy killing zombies to take real note.”

  “Bah, zombies again. Zombies aren’t real. It’s just people looting like they always do during riots.” She started off down the street, not quite at a crawl, but a slow measured pace.

  Alvin sighed, wondering why escort quests always walked so damn slow. He chose not to argue with her idea that zombies weren’t real. If he was lucky, they wouldn’t encounter any.

  As they left the cul-de-sac, the door of the home just in front of them burst open. An old guy wearing a plaid bathrobe rushed out. “Terry! Did you hear the news? They say zombies have been seen downtown.”

  “You’re a fool, Jerry. Zombies ain’t real. Go back to drinking, you drunkard,” With that Terry marched past him, a scowl firmly on her face.

  Alvin grinned at Jerry as he went by, “Zombies are real, Jerry. Might want to get your stuff and get out of the city.”

  Jerry just stared at him, “Who are you? How did you get in here?”

  Alvin just shook his head as he went by. Humanity was so dense. A zombie apocalypse was going on and yet people still refused to do the smart thing. Alvin frowned to himself, realizing that he was finding it harder to view the people here as simple NPCs.

  “Hurry it up, or I’l
l leave you behind,” Terry said from a few steps ahead of him.

  “You couldn’t outpace me if you tried,” Alvin replied as he took a few fast paces to walk beside her. “Why are we walking instead of moving faster, by the way?”

  “Why should I hurry? I’ve lived for seventy-eight years, I’ve seen too many riots to get worked up over another one. Though this one sounds pretty bad, don’t hear gunshots normally.”

  As Alvin was about to reply another person came stumbling out of the mobile home to their left. Alvin looked over to see the dead eyes of the intact zombie as it stumbled down the two steps to the street.

  “Fuck,” Alvin cussed as he stepped around Terry and brought his bat up to brain it.

  “Edith? Are you okay?” Terry asked then back away as Alvin raised his bat. “What are you doing?”

 

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