The scientist tried to stand up, beginning by making a huge effort. But even reaching a sitting position on the ground was out of his scope, his efforts, as he was panting, useless. Not only was it because he was overweight, but he also felt dizzy.
He looked again at the multicolored liquids continuing to trickle out, near him, and sniffed. The powerful sugary scent which was, now, invading his nostrils, made him wince. He made a guess, and thought he could blame the chemical fluids. Only all those liquid medicines and miscellaneous products, which were continuing to flow drop by drop, could explain his strange hallucination.
A wonderful daydream that he missed, now that he had to confront the terrible, the horrible reality.
He tried again to stand up and, this time, he made it. Not only was he able to sit up but he finally stood up.
His movement provoked rapid movements of the red eyes in the darkness, and he saw that they were encircling him.
They were approaching nearer now, and in the mix of darkness and the dim headlights of what remained of the truck, he more than guessed what was happening around him. He could now vaguely discern the faces of the zombies around him, confirming their approach.
Elmer swallowed hard, breathing with difficulty, his lungs oppressed. Now, he knew that his end was close...
All of a sudden he heard a weak, distant rumble.
The disgusting faces of dozens of zombies suddenly appeared around him, illuminated by a flickering, orange-yellow light, which came from somewhere.
Looking around him he had the confirmation that he was surrounded by a whole bunch of living dead. Some of them looked strange, with broken or even sometimes missing arms or legs. Some of them had cranial fractures on their skulls.
He guessed that these were the ones which had been clinging to the truck until the collision and had been thrown against the wall when he had to break in an emergency. Many of them had been reduced into smithereens or even powder but others were luckier – if one can say that an undead can be lucky, in a human way.
They had stood up despite the violence of their bodies hitting the wall hard. And like all the others, incomplete or not, hard battled or not, they were hungry.
They're starving, longing for fresh meat, for my flesh!
He recognized, in front of the group facing him, 'the' creature.
The one that the chemical liquids had made him mistake for Marilyn Monroe. Perhaps it had been a pretty blonde in the past before the arrival of the plague, but now the zombie was a nightmare for men – and any other human being - to look at.
And worse now, it was watching him with avidity, opening a gaping mouth. The creature was clearly ready to charge straight toward him, like all the others. He felt the overwhelming pressure of the gathering, which was tightening its circle around him.
Trembling, he realized that he was ringed by all of them.
He felt like a lamb surrounded by a starving, slavering wolf pack. Unable to flee, but also to confront the harsh reality, he closed his eyes, awaiting the beginning of the blood bath.
He was surprised when he suddenly felt a huge surge of heat which made him open his eyes. He then saw the long blonde hair of "Marilyn Monroe" catch fire. The zombie shrieked like a wounded animal when the flames spread and began to devour its face and, quickly, attained what remained of its white nurse’s dress.
The other creatures began to spread away from it, clearly frightened by the fire. Some of them wailed until they were licked in turn by the huge flames, beginning to burn in turn.
Dazzled, Elmer was puzzled and his gaze followed up the blazing torch which was frying them.
Standing, despite being unsteady, beginning to sweat, due to the enormous heat engulfing this scene from Hell, fascinated, he looked around. He saw that the blaze had been ignited by a fiery plume. The plume was coming from behind, on his right, and his eyes watered in the glare and intensity of the light of the flames.
And beyond the barrage of fire, wincing, he spotted a silhouette.
The intense plume disappeared all of a sudden without any warning, his eyes no more accustomed to the sudden dark. Dancing sparks, dancing now in his visual field, weren't sufficient to hide a man who had been behind the blazing flood. He was standing many meters away, carrying a kind of big rifle in his hands.
Lowering his gaze Elmer saw that a small flame continued to burn out of its barrel. The man, a muscular blond, had a black leather jacket and was wearing strange goggles.
A half-crushed zombie which had apparently lost its left limbs in the collision, lying on the ground, grabbed the man’s boot with its only remaining right hand and tried to bite it.
Surprised a second and almost losing his balance the man hit the face of the creature hard with his rifle, throwing it a few paces away. He pulled the trigger of the strange weapon, and a deluge of fire engulfed once again the living dead.
Elmer saw a bunch of these disappear while roaming about in a maelstrom of flames. He sensed a hand in his back, making him wrench his neck to look back.
Two other creatures had stealthily arrived behind him.
Surprised, he jumped further, out of their reach, as if he had been struck by lightning. He was bewildered to see them suddenly ignited by another man, a colored one using the same equipment. He was joined by two others equipped in the same way.
The blond man approached Elmer, leaving behind him on the ground the half-burnt zombie, now immobile and blackish, which could be described as being caramelized.
The fat man remained paralyzed by fear while watching the man come to him, the barrel of his strange rifle aimed at him. The scientist was literally hypnotized by the small timid flame which projected beyond the extremity of the barrel of the strange flame thrower.
A flame which could at any moment inflate, becoming so impressive and destructive.
He also found the big goggles hiding the young man's eyes quite odd. When the nearest of his saviors stopped in front of him, beginning to lift up his specs, he shivered. The chemicals Elmer had inhaled made him fear to discover monstrous eyes behind them.
The view of the normal clear eyes of the man reassured him and relaxed, he sighed.
Bo smiled at him and said, "Welcome to the Community!"
"The Community... at last," murmured Elmer Hoffnung, a smile playing on his lips. He then collapsed and fell on the dirty ground, fainting.
The young man looked at the fat man at his feet whose smile had faded away and, his eyes closed, seemed to be in Morpheus' arms.
"Hey, Bo, what did you do to him?" asked Johnny Jackson, joining him while he also lifted his goggles, showing teary eyes despite the protection the pair of spectacles offered him.
"I dunno. He fell in the dirt when I spoke and smiled at him."
"You smiled at him?" yelled Johnny, seeming shocked. "I understand his reaction, your smile's sooo ugly when one sees your bad teeth!", and he laughed out loud.
"You son of a..." replied Bo, chuckling, and he stopped speaking. He was happy to see that his friend joking meant that his morale was getting better.
Their laughter continued a few seconds and then Bo asked, "You think we should bring him to the hospital?"
"I bet we should," said Johnny, "after all, we're civilized people."
He briskly turned his flamethrower sideways and pulled the trigger, frying a last zombie which had clumsily approached him. The creature fell on the ground, trembling a few seconds before immobilizing, becoming a burning mass on the dirty ground. He released the trigger and looked in another direction, slowly raising his chin.
He was suddenly startled and pointed a finger upwards, in front of him, adding, "What the fuck..."
Bo looked at what his friend was showing him and, surprised, opened his mouth, aghast.
They were watching the big black bag which was planted against the giant wall.
They both approached the thing while two male nurses came behind them, putting Elmer on a stretcher and taking him quickly inside
the Community.
The two young friends contemplated, fascinated, the protruding blades which were literally embedded into the wall, as if its concrete surface was made of butter.
Amazed, they looked at each other.
***
Grading
Mei was feeling nervous.
Not because of her work as a technician inside the agro-building, even if, sometimes, she knew what the word stress meant, like any other person working in the Community. After all, resources inside the dome were scarce, and every bit of energy to sustain it, and all its inhabitants, every drop of water, were actually precious.
She wasn't feeling nervous because of her grade-passage, like the numerous ones she had passed in the diverse martial arts she had studied; grades that she had acquired with success, according to her father, who had the tendency to spare his compliments.
No, today, her nervousness didn't concern herself.
It concerned the umpteenth grade-passage of her daughter in Jiu-Jitsu. It wasn't the first time but she still couldn't get used to it.
Red was barely hit by the kick at her face but was able to dodge. She fought back with a kick of her own but her opponent, taller and with longer limbs, stayed out of her reach.
Johnny was a tough fighter.
Despite criticizing, for years, with his father, any fight without a weapon, he had changed his mind. He had understood that it would be a plus to be able to defend himself, even when barefoot and with only his bare hands.
The two fighters stopped moving, observing each other.
Living alone now, isolated from his father, he had stopped criticizing Hiroto when, like many others, he had to accept a disturbing fact, which was that the Community’s stocks of ammunition were lowering dangerously.
Mei watched in admiration her adoptive daughter who was moving around the colored man with a feline grace. Red was big given her age, she was only twelve, almost thirteen, but she almost made her think of a young woman. Mei was rather baffled.
Why is this generation so precocious? Is the human species evolving to be able to defend itself sooner against the zombies?
She was startled when Red leapt onto Johnny at a dashing speed closing her legs like giant scissors around his pelvis at the level of his brown belt. She twisted herself and made him perform an involuntary back loop. He hit the tatami with the back of his head.
Now half knocked out despite the relatively soft tatami he didn't react when she seized one of his arms with both her hands and blocked it on her belly. The pain made him wince, because of his arm being forced by her into an abnormal position.
He resisted suffering during many seconds, trying to relax his arm to avoid being wounded. He fought but wasn't able to free it, and had his body immobilized on the tatami by her long legs. Angry with himself, he noisily hit the tatami with the palm of his opened hand, signifying he surrendered. The sound reverberated in an impressive way inside the dojo and against its walls.
"End of combat. Red wins," said Hiroto, his face as impassive as usual.
But Mei knew what was hidden inside her father's heart. He was probably very proud of his adopted granddaughter. After all, she had passed her Jiu-Jitsu grades at a rate never reached, until then, by one of his disciples.
Even by Mei herself, who had been quite a serious practitioner.
The girl freed Johnny's arm.
They separated and stood up, standing in front of one another.
He rubbed his elbow to ease his pain while scowling at her and murmured, "Red, you're nuts. I thought you were going to break my arm!"
"Sorry, Johnny," she answered, a determined and impish smile on her face.
Hiroto looked at the young colored man who was arranging his kimono which was rumpled and said, "Despite your demise, Johnny, it was a good fight. You and Red both knew very well the name of the fighting techniques, the subtleties of the katas..."
He stopped speaking, observing the two young practitioners.
They were watching him with intensity, waiting to hear what followed, both ready to drink in his comments.
With an inner smile, he decided not to make them wait longer.
"So, I've decided that you have both deserved your black belt."
Johnny and Red sighed almost in unison, having held their breath much too long. Suddenly relaxed, they both smiled at each other, happiness filling their souls.
"Red!"
The old Asian's harsh voice startled the teen redhead who murmured, "Yes?"
"I can give a black belt to someone or take it away, with my willpower..."
Wide eyed because of the surprise Red opened her mouth, ready to protest, but wasn't allowed to say anything more when her grandfather added, "Your opponent has fixed his kimono in order to have a correct appearance during the salute. I was awaiting the same thing from you. Arrange your kimono!"
She quickly smoothed out her training wear, and also readjusted her brown belt, smiling shyly at Hiroto. Then she became immobile like a statue, listening.
"That's better," the old man said, nodding approvingly. He took a peek at his daughter who smiled at him, kneeling like the other practitioners near a wall on the tatami.
Turning his attention elsewhere, hands behind his back, the old man walked leisurely toward Red and Johnny, and stopped in front of both of them.
They remained standing side by side in the middle of the dojo, looking beyond, averting his gaze.
Hiroto then brought back his hands, putting them in front of himself, and what they contained got the two youngsters’ attention.
He was showing two completely new black belts.
Their hearts pounding in their chests because of the emotion, both removed their brown belts and put on the black ones.
The old man took from their hands their brown belts and then walked toward a table near the tatami, putting them on it. He then went back towards them, and told them to join the remainder of the group of students, who were kneeling around the center of the tatami.
While they obeyed swiftly, he knelt down in front of them, and finally leaned forward, his forehead almost touching the mattress. He saluted his disciples in this way, who, respectfully, imitated him.
Then the Master, still kneeling, turned at ninety degrees to face a wall with a big old black and white photograph. It was one of Jigoro Kano, the Master who had developed Judo, the sporty version of Jiu-Jitsu.
Hiroto leaned forward the same way, imitated once again by the crowd.
Finally, the Master and everyone stood up. The course had ended.
Everyone began to drift away as Mei joined Red and, smiling at her, said, "I'm so proud of you… go now, ask him."
The young teenager smiled back at Mei and, turning around, looked at Hiroto who was at the table, carefully winding the two brown belts. He finally deposited them in one of the big drawers of the table. Inside Red saw, as usual, groups of belts neatly put in rows and columns, classified by color.
"Grandpa," murmured Red when arriving just behind him.
"Yes?" asked the old man, looking at her while he was closing the drawer.
"Do you authorize me, now, to follow the Kenjutsu course?"
A slight hint of surprise furtively showed on the man's winkled face. He looked at her from head to toe and said, becoming impassive again, “I recognize that you've proved yourself in Jiu-Jitsu. None of my former or present students has ever progressed so fast in the mastership of the techniques."
Red smiled at him, and he answered silently with his usual shy smile. She loved to delight the father of her adoptive mother.
He continued, "Jiu-Jitsu was the martial art used by my ancestors, whenever they were unarmed during fights. For example, when their sabers were broken in battle. That art helped them to survive, even with their bare hands. Survival is important. It was the case in that distant past, and nowadays, it's more important and harder than ever!"
Red watched him hopefully, and he continued, "But I'm afraid that it's no
t sufficient."
That sent a chill through her. Taken aback she turned to her adoptive mother who was standing at the limits of the tatami and saw that, likewise, she was clearly surprised.
Red felt that the Worshipful Master patted her on the back with a finger, so she turned again to face him.
He murmured, "I don't want to pull you down, Red. I live with you, I consider you as my granddaughter."
He stopped speaking, and the red-haired teen sensed that a great deal of emotions filled the Asian's heart.
Finally he added, "But despite that, you must do something, in order to be accepted in the Kenjutsu course, the same thing that I had to do when I was your age."
He stopped speaking and they then exited the Dojo, which was now completely empty with the exception of the three of them.
***
Later on, during dinner in their apartment, he didn’t want to explain anything.
Red and especially her mother were used to his tendency to be secretive.
The girl, who pensively ate her sushi, wanted deeply to know what he didn't tell her. She went to bed, not interested by what played on the family's TV, connected to the Community's channel. Lying on her back while watching the ceiling, she was thoughtful.
Turning around in bed she lay on her stomach, playing with a curl of her long red hair. It was no more tied up in a ponytail but now hung about her alabaster shoulders. It was a big question she was often thinking about.What did Hiroto really want from her? Where could she find the answer? She didn't clearly know…
Suddenly she opened her eyes, something coming together in her mind. She knew where she could find the answer.
She grabbed on her bedside table the smartphone which had been offered by her mother for her birthday, and immediately began to surf on CommunityNet. Like this old used smartphone, that interior WiFi link used old computer technologies pre-dating The Plague, before its subsequent industrial collapse. These, and the few iPads and smartphones amassed by the Community’s thousands of immigrants, were part of the last remnants of Humankind's past Technological Glory.
Hungry Series: Tomes 1 & 2 Page 12