by MacCraw
“K-K-Kill me”, he croaked.
The booth that he had been hiding under was also occupied by the woman whom he had originally been chatting with prior to the ambush. This woman also disregarded instinct and common sense; though her heart was in the right place, her brain wasn’t, and in an attempt to put the fatally-wounded man out of his misery, she pulled the trigger on her revolver and fired a .357 bullet that cracked as it broke through his skull, his brain, and his life. Her attempt to save a life cost his and now her own, since by firing her handgun, she had given her position away, and the beast could now easily locate and destroy another patron. The dogs were learning, and this woman was about to learn that the hard way.
With its elongated, muscular arms, the dog soldier reached under the table and clenched the wrist of the woman, who fired her remaining bullets into the wolf as it hauled her out into the open. It effortlessly lifted her up into the air, where it made intimidating eye contact with her and struck fear into her heart as it sunk its claws into the base of her neck and tugged, ripping her throat open and spilling her blood, which splattered on the buff chest of the bloodthirsty beast. Once her heart beat no more, the dog hurled the corpse across the room, where it smashed on the rim of a table with a deafening crack. The wolf soldier loudly howled as it resumed its search for more prey within the darkened pub.
Kirkley and the others were still trapped under the bar, shivering in horror as the dog soldier stomped through the room. Occasionally, it would halt mid-step, grunt, and sniff the air, which was like a stab from a knife dipped in terror. Not having any sense of where the wolf was relative to them escalated the fear. Eventually Kirkley worked up the courage to carefully peek over the counter. The dog didn’t spot him, for it had opened the door to the restroom and was moving in to search for survivors.
“He’s in the restroom”, Kirkley reported.
“Remind me again, why we aren’t filling this thing with lead?” whispered Hannah.
“We don’t have enough firepower for a sustained fight”, explained Kirkley.
“If we can get into the men’s room, we can search the bodies for ammo”, Kylie suggested. “The Civil War in the 19th century often forced soldiers to salvage ammo off of their fallen comrades.”
“Don’t just assume them to be dead”, Royce said, “I’m sure that-“
“OH MY GOD-!”
“SHOOT IT! SHOOT IT!”
“RIFLE’S JAMMED!”
“NO, NO, NONONO!”
The sound of gunfire and the shrieks of the mutilated resonated throughout the pub as the wolf soldier roared and growled while butchering his prey as savagely as possible. Tears went down Royce’s cheeks, for he had the responsibility of looking after his patrons, who were now nothing but piles of fresh meat strewn and splattered across the tiled walls of the restroom.
“Royce. Royce!” Kirkley urged, “We need something that can be thrown as a decoy, now!”
Royce cautiously leaned up and over the underside of the bar counter, and reached up onto the shelf for a large bottle of rum. Royce rotated around to face the exit, and flung the bottle as far as he could out the door. The bottle went hurdling outside, and loudly shattered upon contact with a large chunk of granite. The destruction of the bottle of rum was loud enough to attract the attention of the dog soldier, who bolted out of the bathroom to investigate.
“This is our chance”, Kirkley whispered, “Go! Into the restroom.”
The frightened survivors scurried across the floor and into the bathroom, trying to make as little noise as they possibly could. Once the group was in the bathroom, Poet carefully shut and locked the door.
“Alright, look for whatever you can”, Kirkley ordered.
With the same ravenous determination of the wolf, the team vigorously searched the room and the bodies for any spare weapons or ammunition. The most success they got came from unloading the two assault rifles carried by two of the massacred patrons, but other than that they came up shorthanded. It was at that point where the wolf returned, and was aware of the fact that the door was opened when it had ran outside to check out the noise it heard, so it was now 100% that there were more humans walled off in the bathroom. With its targets locked, the wolf began angrily smashing the door, which creaked and thundered with each bash, and screeched and clanked with each claw swipe.
“Kylie, Pack; into position!” shouted Kirkley. “Poet, Hannah; you girls get behind me!”
“What do I do?” Royce asked.
“Think of something!” Kirkley hollered.
A fist broke through the door, and began retracting while tugging at the edges of the breach in an attempt to rip down the door. The metal groaned as the dog used its inconceivable strength to tear it apart, but the buildup of metal being pressed up against each other eventually made it impossible to push it any further. Still, the hole was fairly large, and the wolf soldier began to stick its massive arm through the hole and began wildly swiping through it in an attempt to slash one of the humans trapped inside. Poet crouched down and fired her sniper rifle, hitting the creature in the chest, much to its ire. Pack and Kylie stuck the barrels of their weapons around the corners of the hole and began blindfiring into the creature trying to rip the door open. The fierce determination of the dog soldier was unmatched, however, and it continued to press its assault regardless of the stinging bullets. The pain caught up with its nerves, however, and as the bullets continued to pelt it, it only built up the rising firestorm of rage within the monster. The wolf began furiously slamming its head against the door, which did much more damage to the door than its fists did. In short time, its head broke through, and it continued to lean forward and snap at Pack and Kylie, who were in a serious predicament due to not being able to move. The dog’s arm was still flailing around and threatening to slash them open like a Thanksgiving turkey, and its head was chomping and biting towards them, rendering unable to move without being bitten or clawed, and ultimately transforming into the same monstrous abomination that was trying to kill them.
“Kirkley!” Pack bellowed.
Kirkley was hesitant to fire, but as he was about to fire, Royce went charging out of one of the bathroom stalls with a toilet tank cover. Royce hollered as he moved in with the cover, holding it over his shoulder like a battleaxe, and swung it down onto the nose of the beast. The tank cover exploded in a blast of powder and hardened resin chunks as it struck the creature, and the powder that made contact with the open wounds of the creature caused intense stinging that made the wolf roar in agony, its eyes watering uncontrollably. The impact caused Royce to tremble and fall over backwards; with Royce out of harm’s way, Kirkley and Poet could open fire without the risk of hitting their friend. The dog also pulled away from the door, which gave Pack and Kylie the opportunity to scurry away from the door. At this point, the fatally wounded dog soldier ran off, but only into the women’s restroom opposite of the men’s. There were fewer survivors in that room then there were in the men’s, and they were mostly unarmed, which played heavily into their horrific deaths. Once everybody in the pub had been killed, minus Kirkley and the others, the wolf went into full retreat; deep into the gloomy forest where it could heal and lick its wounds.
“Okay”, Kirkley panted, “I think we’re clear.”
“Clear, and out of ammo”, remarked Hannah.
“It’s clear… that we’re all going to DIE!” screamed Pack.
“Pack, Pack, Pack”, Kirkley stuttered, “Calm down. We’ll find a way.”
“Such as…?”
“Hey, Royce”, asked Kirkley, “Are there any other points of interest around this pub?”
“There is one, but it’s one I haven’t really investigated due to the dangers lurking within”, said Royce. “There’s a decently-sized airfield with two hangars, a power station, a control tower, and a few other buildings which I can’t really identify.”
“Dangers within?” Kylie remarked, “What are we talking about here, wolves?”
“Armed men”, Royce clarified.
“More bandits”, Hannah groaned, “Fuck me with a harpoon and shoot me in the eye.”
“Easy there”, Kirkley calmly chuckled as he gave Hannah a pat on the shoulder. “I’m not shooting you, or any of you.”
“You say ‘armed men’”, said Kylie, “But I heard ‘more ammunition’. ‘Po’s got some bullets left; we can pick ‘em all off methodically, and get their ammo and gear. Who knows, they probably have some better weapons, or at least, weapons for Hannah and Royce.”
“Whoa, whoa, stop the bus”, Royce added, “Now even if we did have enough bullets for a sustained fight, I just don’t think it would be right to just gun down every other human we see.”
“If they wield a gun, then they are to be automatically treated as hostiles until proven otherwise”, Pack declared. “They would likely open fire upon us.”
“Well what about when you came flying through the window?” Royce remarked, “My patrons may have had guns, but they didn’t start shooting you.”
“Those people were in a building with other people whom they felt safe around”, said Kirkley. “As hard as it is to accept it, it must be assumed that all survivors with heavy armament are hostile unless proven otherwise.”
“How do you know so much, anyhow?” Royce asked.
“We went through Glasgow, and every single person we encountered attempted to kill us”, Hannah explained.
“Even some of the unarmed people are dangerous”, Kirkley added. “Prior to coming to the pub, we took refuge in a cabin owned by a shady woman named Bridget, who later attempted to sacrifice Hannah to her husband.”
“Geez, I’m sorry, mate”, Royce remarked, nodding to Hannah.
“Eh, it actually had a happy ending”, Hannah smirked. “But not for Bridget.”
“Well, point is, we don’t know where this airfield is, but you seem to know these roads. Will you take us?” Kirkley asked.
“The sooner the better, I suppose”, said Royce.
…
Once again, the survivors being lead by Kirkley were out in the unforgiving wilderness, following Royce towards an airfield which could potentially have supplies or, better yet, transportation. Unfortunately, to get the things they needed for survival, they would have to contend with any humans at the airfield.
There was a time when Kirkley’s conscious prevented him from pulling the trigger on another human, but after becoming fully aware of the nature of the apocalypse, and how it was an every man for himself scenario, he decided that the only way to prolong the survival of himself and his dear friends was to do what was necessary. The people he were up against were doing the same thing, and it couldn’t be described as war; just survival of the fittest.
“So where are you from, Royce?” Kylie inquired.
“Scotland”, answered Royce. “My family’s owned that pub for generations. That place is home to me.”
“That’s really neat”, Kylie commented. “In case my Americanized accent with a dash of Southern doesn’t speak for itself, I’m from the United States.”
“But didn’t the Yanks get annihilated during the Drone Wars?”
“Yeah, but I was off-continent when that happened”, said Kylie.
“It’s a really interesting story”, Hannah smiled, affectionately nudging her best friend. “You should hear the rest of it at some point.”
“The whole world went to shit, it seems”, Kirkley sighed. “The wolf men running amok through the United Kingdom, slaughtering the innocent; the Drone Wars in the U.S.; the War in Takistan; the coup, rioting, unrest and uprising in Russia…”
The discussion was cut short due to Royce getting everybody’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have now reached the Dakota Airfield”, Royce announced, but the feedback he received was a loud snarling.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” Hannah cursed, nervously springing up and down as she slapped Kirkley’s back.
“Get over the fence!” Pack shouted.
“There’s fucking barbed wire on-“
“GET. UP!”
With no other options, and one or more dog soldiers closing in on them, Kirkley’s group frantically began to scale the perimeter fence of the airfield. The chainlink fencing was tricky enough to climb, but the largest and most brutal obstacle was the barbed wire lining the top. The bloated backpacks carried by the survivors also attempted to anchor them down and prevent their escape, but when Pack accidentally placed his hand down on a rather gnarly section of the wire, it opened up a new dimension of pain. Pack loudly shouted as the blood poured down his wrist, but continued to haul himself over the fence. Once he had climbed up and over, he dropped to the ground and rolled on his side, fiercely clenching his shredded hand as he snarled in pain. Pack was not the only one to be hurt by the barbed wire, however; in climbing over, Kylie’s belly made contact with and got slightly blocked by the wired, and the gravity suddenly threw her down on the other side of the fence. Kylie’s tubby belly was now bleeding even worse than Pack’s hand, with a gigantic gash in it that was nearly a foot long.
The others managed to get over the barbed wire without much more difficulty, just as the trio of wolves lunged out and attacked the fence in an attempt to snag Poet’s leg just as she was finishing the ascent. The dogs angrily howled and hissed as they snapped at the fence; the chainlink fencing prevented their claws from being able to swing without getting hooked in the fence. Kirkley swung around and fired off his remaining ammo into the wolf men before it finally ran dry. Despite the damage done by the SPAS-15’s 12-gauge rounds, the ferocious monsters continued to assault the perimeter fence, which was starting to look weaker. Since Pack had dropped his MP5 as soon as he had gotten over the fence, Kirkley picked it up off of the ground and began spraying bullets into the beasts. The MP5 loudly buzzed and pinged as a storm of gunfire like an angry swarm of hail pelted the infuriated wolf soldiers. After the MP5’s ammo had been depleted, the dogs finally ran off, and gave Kirkley the moment to check on his friends.
“Everybody alright?!” Kirkley shouted.
“My tummy hurts”, Kylie moaned, looking down at the colossal wound that tore through her jacket, her tank top, and the fat skin on her lower torso.
“Holy shit”, gasped Kirkley as he rushed over to help her. “Does somebody have a bandage the size of Russia? Didn’t think so! Look in the fucking Bergans!”
Everybody began rapidly emptying their backpacks and storage apparel in search of anything they could use to patch up Kylie’s mammoth wound. Eventually Hannah got lucky and found a roll of duct tape, which she tossed to Kirkley. As Kylie cried and shook around in pain, Kirkley used his combat knife to slice off large sections of tape.
“Hannah, Poet, hold her down! I don’t want her to accidentally kick me in the face!” Kirkley ordered.
“Now buddy, this is going to hurt for a second”, Hannah whispered, gently caressing Kylie’s sweaty forehead.
“How can it get any- AAARRRGH!” Kylie bellowed. The pain was indescribable, and it hurt even worse than the wound itself. Kylie continued to shriek and shake around as Kirkley continued to apply more layers of duct tape onto her injury. In an attempt to help her friend tolerate the pain, Hannah pulled out the final shot of morphine and administered it into Kylie’s neck which made Kylie loudly grunt during her last few screams of the ad hoc surgical procedure.
“Is it a boy or a girl?” Kylie huffed, jokingly referring to the fact that she felt like she was giving birth, and earning some relieved chuckling from Kirkley and Hannah.
“Alright, let’s put Humpty Dumpty back together”, Kirkley said, as he tightly wove a web of duct tape around Pack’s bloody hand. Pack also shouted in pain, though not as wildly as Kylie was when she was getting her emergency treatment.
Eventually all of the blood and physical torment came to a close, but the whole incident had left two of the six survivors with gruesome injuries, no ammo for their primary weapons, no morphine or antibiotics, and c
onsiderably less morale than before.
“I’m done”, Hannah sighed. “I give up. I’m sick and fucking tired of running from these furballs, almost dying every time, and watching my friends either die or narrowly avoid death.”
“You don’t mean that”, Kirkley assertively replied.
“Look, babe”, Hannah said as she looked her true love in the eyes, “I really don’t have the resolve to go on like this. I thought my abusive adolescent was painful; this is worse. I can’t deal with it.”
“You remember what I told you back in Glasgow?” asked Kirkley. “About how a team is like a hand, and every finger needs to function for it to be effective? We’re a team, and sometimes that means counting on somebody else is the only way to win. So I’m asking you; sister, partner, lover… will you stand strong with us, and help us ensure victory for the spirit of Su and mankind as a whole? We need you. I need you.”
Tears began streaming down the dirty cheeks of Kirkley and Hannah alike, and after a moment of hesitation, they firmly embraced.
“I’m sorry”, Hannah cried.
“I didn’t want to lose you, or any of you, for that matter”, said Kirkley. “You all are my family. We aren’t just a band of survivors; we’re a family. Family sticks together.”
“Ooh-rah”, Pack nodded.
“Look, guys”, Kylie panted, “I would get up and hug you all, but we need to haul ass and get to cover of some kind. It’s getting colder, and those things will be back for seconds.”
“So across the airfield we go”, Kirkley declared. “Hopefully those bad guys don’t object to us crossing onto their turf.”
…
Kirkley, Hannah, Pack, Poet, Kylie and Royce were all situated outside of the command tower at the airfield, which was a two-story building with large windows encompassing the entire second story.