by Tyler Lahey
Jaxton broke off their embrace, and beckoned his friends closer. “We weren’t supposed to survive this long.” They turned to the one who led them with steely eyes. They were all afraid. “We should have all died, in those horrible months last spring. A lifetime ago, no? We should have died already.”
Even in the dark, they could see he had a powerful physique.
“But we did not die. And I know you are all afraid of the dawn. As am I. We are fighting for our survival. For each other. Nature is coming for us in all her homicidal fury, to blot us out and send us to meet our fathers and mothers waiting for us on the other side. I will not allow myself to go so easily. She thinks she can come and take us, as she has taken millions. She thinks we will falter and stumble, that we will be swept over in a scarlet sea. Tomorrow, we will take down Agis and cleanse the scourge from within our ranks. And the day after, we will muster all our strength and steel ourselves to face the coming holocaust.”
Jaxton looked skyward, and took comfort from the white, glowing full moon. How many thousands across history had looked to that same moon in times of despair?
“We must not be afraid of the dawn, of what tomorrow will bring. The dawn will let us look our enemy in the eye when we collapse his world around him. I welcome the dawn.”
…
The wind was whipping across the parking lot when the columns began to move out under the pale light of the mid-day sun. Over a hundred of them would go. Twenty of the wounded remained in the school, now clustered around the front doors, watching the others go with the festivity of a fair. Adira could see Joseph standing there meekly, his body bandaged and broken. The columns of men and women bristled with rifles and ammunition. They chattered excitedly, as if their destination was a football game and not a killing field in the forests to the north. Adira itched her face and looked at her hands, where there was a smear of blue face paint. The others looked them oddly, but they had seen stranger things since the world ended. Jaxton turned to look at her and forced a grin, his cheeks bright blue. Agis had inquired personally about it, but they assured him it was war paint, for the battle to come.
Adira stared at Jaxton’s back as they walked. To her flanks and rear marched Liam, Wilder, Duke, and Elvis, all blue faced. Within earshot were the others they trusted. There were several friends they had made in the spring months, the first people to join them at the Citadel. All outcasts and those who resisted the tyranny of Agis advanced beside them. Adira surveyed their group, their bright blue faces resembling some hardy war band of Vikings an eon past. She did not fail to notice the quality of the weapons the police had given them. Whereas those in Agis’s favor held military grade assault rifles, clean and modern pistols, and the most powerful hunting rifles and shotguns, she held a creaking old weapon. Strapped to Jaxton’s back was a sniper rifle with a scope that didn’t work, and a broken wooden stock. It was the same all up and down the line.
As their boisterous band passed the faded, lonely porches on main street, she could see Agis a stone’s throw ahead. He was surrounded by his officers and cronies, men with bulletproof vests and black boots. She could see Harley’s svelte form sauntering near the front in combat boots, the sides of her head shaved. They were tall, and proud. These men expected a haughty victory, and several shot glances laced with venom back towards Jaxton’s raggedy band at the rear of the advance. She saw the pasty, lanky officer with red hair and yellow teeth. He bared his teeth at her like an animal and slammed a clip into his rifle. She just stared. He would be the first target, once the shooting started.
Jaxton remained silent even as they passed into the suburbs, lost in cautious anxiety. There were so many things that had to go right. The timing that had to be perfect, if they were to have a chance.
Agis made casual jokes as his boots scraped the cold asphalt, and the survivors hovered like excited children. They all laughed at his jokes, eager to please the man who kept his exhausted men in line with the promise of drugs and women. These sultry vixens marched at the fore as well, just behind the officer corps. They too were armed and armored, though Adira smirked to contemplate their fear once the shooting started.
There were so many others who marched with their eyes downcast, shame in their countenances. It was they who hated the men in front, hated them for the way they took the warmest rooms, the best food, and punished mistakes with vicious anger.
Adira nudged Jaxton. Two teams of two hoisted heavy machine guns with belts of ammunition, no doubt stolen from Troy’s dead soldiers. Adira could spot several Army helmets bouncing up and down in the crowd, their camouflaged domes sticking out in the sea of black. Her heart dropped. Bennett was looking back at her like a sick dog, with black-rimmed eyes and a slack jawed mouth. Jaxton met his gaze till he finally turned.
Adira opened her mouth to catch a falling snowflake. The columns now marched in silence, fear building in even the most experienced hunters. The snow fell fast in huge flakes as the trodding men and women past the old General store, with its rickety yellow porch. It wasn’t far now.
She saw Agis signal up front, and the officers turned. The command filtered down, person by person. “Check weapons and ammo.” Each passed the message back down the line, till the handful of cronies in the rear guard heard Agis’s will.
They passed through the Cathedral to the rhythm of weapons being loaded with trembling hands. Agis was eager, and he drove the pace harder.
The silent mass emerged through the glades to a field of dead grass, now covered in an unbroken white, and halted
Adira peered above the bobbing heads and saw Agis and his officers conferring, including Bennett. Two men broke off from the group at a run and disappeared into the blizzard, moving fast towards the trailer park nestled in the forest.
Adira gripped Jaxton’s arm. “What about the snow? We can barely see.” She could hear the tension even in her own voice. He fumbled with the flare gun stuffed in his belt.
“I don’t know,” he whispered hoarsely. Liam met his eyes and shook his head.
But the runners had returned. The column set off once more, into the Backwoods. The factory would not be far.
By the time they arrived, the mood had changed drastically. Visibility had been cut to a few dozen feet in the blizzard, and they were cold and wet. The band halted one hundred feet from the hulking iron structure, partially concealed by the deluge.
“We can’t see the tree line from here,” Wilder hissed. It was true. With the snow, the trees one hundred feet away were practically invisible. Those few with blue faces began to shift nervously. Were they wrong to have supported Jaxton?
“JAXTON!” A voice roared, loud and clear through the storm. The crowd parted. It was Agis.
Jaxton signaled his band forward of blue faced warriors forward. Agis smiled warmly. “I think your team should go in with us. That face paint might even frighten the enemy! Who knows.”
Jaxton attempted a grin. “The honor should be yours. My men’s weapons are old and flimsy, besides. I insist.”
Agis took a step forward and set his jaw. “No. I insist.” His hands rested on the pistol at his hip, and the other officers drew near, equally armed.
Jaxton clenched his jaw and turned to Adira. “Whatever happens, stay here.” Drawing close, he pressed the flare gun into her hands without anyone seeing.
“No, wait-“ She began. But then he was gone. Liam, Duke, Wilder, and Elvis took off behind him without question. The other blue-faced supporters stayed with Adira.
Agis nodded happily, and turned to the crowd. “Let’s see what we can find! Be ready friends!” He whistled low and fast, and signaled.
A dozen men in black fell in behind him, their goggles and balaclavas masking their identities. Bennett was among them, Adira knew. She saw Harley join them without hesitation, hoisting a pair of revolvers. They looked so crisp and professional next to the unkempt, bearded band of lonely men Jaxton led. She had a terrible feeling as they disappeared into the blizzard.
/> …
The men in black fanned out in front, as Jaxton felt his own heart hammering. Did Agis know? Was it possible he knew about their plan? There was too much snow; Troy would never see the flare. He walked as slowly as possible with his friends, inching closer to the ruin of rust.
The air inside was musty and metallic tasting. Jaxton eyed Agis warily, who seemed oblivious to his presence. The men in black advanced slowly, assault rifles raised.
“Hernandez. Where were they last time?” Agis whispered.
“I never came inside, sir.”
“What?! Are you fucking kidding me?”
The figure in black slumped in shame, as Agis struggled to keep his composure.
Another man approached. It was Bennett, Jaxton judged by his voice. “Sir, let’s advance. Doesn’t matter where they are. We’ll cut them to shreds no matter what.”
Agis exhaled forcefully and drew up his rifle. “Move.”
At his word, the men advanced deeper into the factory. Jaxton could hear the wind howling outside the structure. They advanced into the lower levels, and then the stench hit them.
Liam dragged Jaxton to the side, and breathed into his ear. “We weren’t supposed to come inside with them. They know something’s up.”
Jaxton nodded, and felt his mind churning as the men began moving between the machines in the darkness. Jaxton heard a clang ahead in the gloom, where the stench got heavier. He signaled his friends to hold. The men in black armor could sense something was close as they advanced, and had forgotten about the others.
Very slowly, Jaxton brought up his weapon, and took aim. Then Agis turned, and was staring at him. There was a primal wail that danced around the crumbling machinery, and Jaxton squeezed the trigger. The weapon clicked, but nothing happened. Jaxton could see Agis grinning as he raised his own rifle. “Oh fuck,” Jaxton whispered, frozen in place.
There was a roar, and a giant beast of a man screamed with a terrible fury and leapt over the machine. Agis drew back in horror and raised his assault rifle laterally, to protect his face. The bearded giant brought a rusted axe down on the weapon, snapping it in two. Harley spun and her pistols rocked back three times in rapid succession.
In the same moment, out of the rotting gloom emerged the beta-infected. They charged at the officers with crude axes and metal pipes, screeching like harpies. Liam dropped to his knees upon hearing the pitch that emanated from those rotting vocal chords.
“Shoot the officers!” Jaxton screamed. His friends raised their guns and squeezed the triggers, and nothing happened; they had all been sabotaged. The room echoed with rifle fire as the men in black opened up on their attackers. Spent rifle rounds tumbled ceaselessly on the metal floor.
“RELOADING!” One screamed. Within two seconds a hatchet was lodged in his neck, and he fell to the floor shaking. Another officer dropped his weapon and ran, but a woman bit out the back of his knee and he stumbled. Jaxton charged forward and used his faulty rifle as a hammer, hearing the snap as the man’s goggles shattered in his eyes. The infected drew back its axe and prepared to collapse Jaxton’s face, and paused. It twitched and turned away, to hunt another without blue face paint. Jaxton shuddered in relief as the others tugged him back. “We have to go!”
They stumbled backwards, towards the light spilling in from the open door. The darkness popped with light for fractions of time as the officers fired their weapons manically. They were being swarmed. Their screams echoed in that tomb as the infected came at them from all sides, out of the darkness and hacked into their limbs. Jaxton could hear them shouting orders frantically as he stumbled up the metal stairs. “Behind you! BEHIND YOU!” And there was sickening crunch of metal and flesh. The weapons’ chatter rang in Jaxton’s ears as he allowed himself to dragged out of the room.
“Which way!?” There was a screech behind them, and they ran.
The twisting turns of the factory sucked them deeper and deeper into the metallic beast, and the gunfire never stopped. As they reached the other side and realized they had come the wrong way, Jaxton flung his arm back. “This way!” As they moved back to the center of the structure, the gunfire ceased. His heartbeat was pounding. “Who won?”
“C’mon lets move!” It took them sixty seconds to reach the front double doors. There were trails of blood leading out of it, streaks of wet scarlet on the rusty floor. Jaxton snatched up a lone assault rifle lying on the floor with a broken strap as they ran.
Liam clotheslined him as he tried to bolt through the door, and the others piled up behind him.
“Wait, look Jaxton,” Liam commanded, his voice laced with panic.
Jaxton stuck his head out of the door, and peered into the snowstorm. It now fell lightly, in swirling patches, and what he saw gripped his heart with a feverish mania utterly unknown to him before that very moment. In the lightly falling snow, Agis was holding a pistol. Kneeling before him was Adira, her crouching form shuddering with the pain of having been kicked in the face.
The other officers were standing around him, their breasts heaving. Four were missing, but several others had come up to stand with Agis. There were two blue-faced men lying in the snow, motionless. The others had thrown down their faulty weapons, and had their hands raised before the crowd of others.
“Jesus Christ what are we going to do?” Jaxton grabbed Elvis by the collar and shook him.
They could hear Agis’s voice carrying on the wind. “Jaxton has betrayed me! He has betrayed us! He…”
“Quiet.” A female voice croaked from behind them. Standing four feet away, the infected had gathered. There were two dozen of them, many bleeding profusely from weeping wounds. They remained motionless aside from their heaving chests.
Jaxton and his friends stood just inside the door, stunned into silence. Their limbs quaked with the possibility of what might come next. But an attack never came, and the balding woman with long strands of hair emerged from the vacant-eyed crowd.
“Will you help?” Jaxton took a step forward, so he was a foot away from the woman. He gagged from her stench, and Liam pulled him back a hair. “Don’t get near her,” he whispered.
The woman nodded. “We want this,” she said evenly, and her jaw twitched. “Yes,” she said, her face betraying no emotion at all.
Liam drew back in horror, “what are they doing this for?”
Jaxton’s eyes were shimmering, “they want to die.” The woman advanced.
“Only the ones in black. Black.” Jaxton repeated, having no idea if she understood. “Go when I say.”
The woman pushed past him, blood dripping off her hatchet. The others followed wordlessly, carrying rusted pipes and scraps of viciously twisted metal. They halted just before the door, in a swaying pack of rotting humans.
“Agis and his men were supposed to be in our position, alone with the infected inside the factory, while we met up with Troy outside and secured the exits. Now we’re inside, with the infected.” Duke said, his hands shaking. “What the fuck!”
“Troy doesn’t know when to attack from the woods. He probably can’t even see! Where’s the flare?”
Elvis peered out from behind the metal door. “I can see it. Next to the two dead ones. Adira dropped it in the snow.”
Wilder slammed his fist against the wall. “There’s no way to get it. He’ll shoot her as soon as we clear the door.”
Jaxton was staring at the ground, twitching in thought. He could barely think. His brain was pulsing with the terrible possibility that lay before him. There was a screech. One of the beta-infected humans near the door was turning, his mind having lost the battle. The infection took over his faculties fully, and he doubled over in pain, lost in the transition to a full alpha infected.
“Fuck. He’ll charge outside when he turns!” Wilder yelled. “They’ll panic! They’ll kill Adira!”
Elvis clapped Jaxton on the shoulder. “I’ll make for the flare! You take the shot as soon as we clear the door!”
Jaxton’s
eyes snapped to Elvis in quivering wildness, and he hoisted the rifle. There was a howl and a gurgle of blood, and infected man broke free of his mass of comrades and headed through the snow straight for the largest group of food.
Jaxton shouldered his way past the other swaying beta-infected, who remained rooted in place, and spun around the edge of the door. He could see Agis glaring at him through the pale air, his eyes wide the sight. Jaxton pulled the trigger, and the rifle rocked back hard into his shoulder. “GO!”
The beta-infected charged, loping across the snowy, open ground barefoot in great lumbering strides. The line of officers opened fire, and lead raced across the snowy turf as Agis reeled, dropping to his knees and clutching his arm.
Elvis flashed a last look to Jaxton, nodded, and charged.
Muzzle flashes popped and flashed all over the field, as Agis’s men spread out in a firing line. The infected cleared the ground within five seconds at half strength. The others lay where they were hit, sprawled out in the snow.
Elvis skidded to a halt in the confusion, ducking low behind the bodies in the snow. The corpses vibrated as bullets punched through them. His heart rose to ecstasy. There! He snatched the flare gun from the ground and raised it skyward. It belched a red and yellow flare that raced skywards in the pale afternoon light.
But the lone alpha-infected was not yet dead. Adira backpedaled furiously in the snow as he approached her, its jaws snapping and clicking violently. It leapt on top of her.
Jaxton saw the incident from the door, and he stepped out into the light. He opened his mouth and roared as if wrath was his salvation, a cry of terrible fury that stopped the battle for a millisecond as all attempted to process its ferocity. The infected man atop Adira paused for just a moment, and though it was not in his nature, he knew fear. It grappled with Adira on the ground, struggling with a renewed zeal to bite into that soft flesh before it too was killed.