by Locke, Linus
A flash of red alerted Jonathan that Laikynn had returned. Her hair whipped wildly in the wind from the helicopter blades. She held up a large tube. Jonathan hadn’t seen one in real life, but he recognized the long cylindrical weapon as a rocket launcher. The pilot must have seen it as well, Jonathan watched the powerful aircraft attempt to maneuver, but the large machine wasn’t capable.
The small rocket left the tube, trailing smoke as it shot through the air. The explosion rocked the helicopter and the surrounding snow flashed orange. The engine whirred loudly as the powerful engines struggled to recover from the impact. The helicopter spun in a complete circle before the pilot was able to gain some level of control. The spinning had stopped, but the flying beast drifted sideways. Jonathan was sure he could see the blades wobble as if they would shoot off the top.
Laikynn watched as the helicopter drifted toward the common area. Gunshots came from flaps in the roof of the tin building. She knew that it was the most secure place to be, as it was designed for an event like this. Shooters could lean out of the covers and take out their enemies with little fear of being put in any real danger. Behind the tin walls, a layer of steal and bricks made it impossible for the ghouls the break through.
Yet the force with which that heavy cage collided with the side of the secure building was like a wrecking ball, knocking most of the west wall down. This impact forced the nose of the helicopter down, causing it to slam into the ground just to the east of the common area. It ground dozens of the undead horde into the earth and destroyed two of the small houses.
Chapter 11
Elliot woke up to the smell of smoke and rotting flesh. There was a small fire in the helicopter, but even through the fuzz in his head he could tell that it wasn’t at risk of spreading. The choking smoke smelled of burned wires and hot metal. He tried to pick himself up; he was lying against the window on the passenger side of the cockpit. Blood and flesh was splattered along the inside of the helicopter and looked like raw hamburger.
The pain in his side assured him that he was alive. It hurt like hell to move, but he twisted his body the best he could. A long piece of glass stuck out of his side. He couldn’t focus well enough to know if he should remove it or leave it there, but he decided it had to go. Searching for something to bite down on, he came across a severed finger. Wrapping it in a piece of his torn shirt, he placed it in his mouth and bit down as he pulled the glass from his body.
Consumed by the urge to pass out, Elliot fought with all of his strength to stay awake. He knew that passing out now could mean he bleeds to death in this helicopter, and that would ruin his whole day. There was one more helicopter in that building, and that was his ticket home. After all, there was a hero’s welcome for him when he returned. He focused his mind and controlled his breathing.
Luckily the glass didn’t go in too deep, and after a few minutes of searching he found the med kit. Elliot applied all of the antibiotic gel and bandages he could find and downed several Tylenol more then what the doctor would recommend. He sat back, hoping he could afford to give the painkillers a little time to work. Straining to hear anything from outside of the helicopter, Elliot decided it must be now or never.
The screams and gunshots echoed deep into the mountains. It became an all-out defensive battle as they attempted to keep the fiends out of the common area and away from the families that sought shelter there. The downed wall made it almost impossible to formulate a decent defensive strategy, and the panic that created so much chaos moments before the fiends reached the town had many of the residents spread out and hoping to survive the onslaught in false safety of their own homes.
Laikynn watched in terror as her friends were torn apart. The ghouls were not fast or strong, but their numbers were great, and that made them a terrifying force. She knew she couldn’t save everyone here. It was too late for that, but she was sure as hell going to try to save as many as possible. Then she would find the one responsible and rip him apart herself. Standing on her small porch with the rocket launcher at her feet, she fired off shots from an assault rifle.
Jonathan and Guillermo spread out around the bonfire. Guillermo swung Kadavre at anything that came within distance while Jonathan took calculated shots with his Springfields. He looked across the way to Laikynn, bodies piling up around her. She screamed, not a war cry, but a panicked, horrified scream. He followed her gaze to the common area.
Fiends poured in through the wall, scrambling over each other like starved animals wanting to be the first in line to receive their meal. Occasionally, one of their heads would burst as it found itself in the way of a bullet. Most of the fiends, however, made it through just fine. Over the roaring fire, Jonathan could hear the screams. The gunshots died down, and soon so did the screams.
The stench of rotting flesh and coagulated blood was quickly becoming overpowering. Laikynn had moved from her porch and was now standing back to back with Guillermo on the opposite side of the dying fire from Jonathan. The cold night was slowing down the fiends, but it was starting to overcome Jonathan’s adrenaline, as well. With the heat of the fire fading fast, they were all finding it harder to squeeze the trigger as their fingers began to freeze.
Several shots burst from up in the trees. Jonathan wasn’t sure who it was, but they were drawing the fiends away for now. That bought the survivors enough time to regroup. Eleven people met by the fire. All of them were armed and ready to take care of the remaining fiends. Jonathan looked at the disheveled group that surrounded him. He didn’t see Tyler or Layla among them.
“Chris is in the trees,” Brew Master Eric said. He held a twelve gauge shotgun and a vest with plenty of extra shells. “I sent him up there with like a thousand rounds of ammo,” he laughed. “I can’t believe he even made it up the tree.”
“Well we need to use this time to our advantage,” Laikynn said. “Especially since he is a terrible shot.”
Chris fired off shots, missing most of them. He had always bragged about being a great shot, and he would later use the excuse that it was harder to shoot while sitting on a swaying tree branch. He knew, however, that he was leaning comfortably against the tree, and it was fear and panic that impaired him. He was doing what he was sent up there to do, however, and that is all that mattered to him. The ghouls came for the noise.
Jonathan stared at the common area. Blood ran out from under the doors. The last time he had seen Tyler and Layla they were running in there to be safe. So many people ran in there to be safe. Now they were all dead. Laikynn placed her hand on his shoulder and they made eye contact. He could see there was just as much sadness in her eyes as there was in his. After all, she was losing her entire home.
“We have to clean up this mess, Jonathan,” Laikynn said softly.
He didn’t hear anything she said. For the first time he felt pure rage. Looking around at the small town, he saw the aftermath of what had happened. Children lay in the red snow, stomped into the ground, their small bodies broken. Their mothers and fathers lay close by. One man’s head had been completely busted open. His brains were splattered for several feet. Jonathan’s fists clenched and his heart raced so hard he thought it would explode.
Jonathan walked away. Laikynn watched as he did, unsure of what she should do. She would give him some space, but she would make sure to stay close by. He glared into the common area as he walked by. It was a mess. There would be no way to identify anyone that was in there. The smell was wretched, but he wouldn’t gag. Rage would see that he accomplished what he set out to do.
Elliot stuck his head out of the side of the helicopter. He could hear the gunshots from the other side of the common area. Time to go, he thought. While they are busy trying to survive. He pulled himself up, looked around, and dropped the .50 cal to the cold ground before landing next to it. His side felt like it burst open. Holding back the urge to scream, he sat up, controlled his breathing, and worked his way to his feet.
He had walked about thirty feet before he saw th
e fiend walking toward him. It was only one, moving far too slow to catch him. The forest would be his salvation. Trained to survive, Elliot could live in any conditions under any circumstances. Before he could take another step, however, a nine millimeter bullet tore through the skin on the back of his right knee, blowing out the kneecap as it exited.
Elliot hit the ground hard, this time he couldn’t hold in the scream. He felt the blood trickle from his side, but the pain in his knee dominated his senses. Then he saw the shooter. “Jonathan?” he asked. “Did you really just shoot me?”
“You piece of shit!” said Jonathan as he walked closer to the fallen man. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything, I tried to stop it. One of the guys guarding the caves, he went crazy and–“ Elliot started before being interrupted.
“Shut it!” Jonathan ordered.
“You’re not a killer Jonathan. I’ve seen it in you. You’re a good kid. I can change. Let me go and I promise I’ll fix this,” Elliot pleaded with a hint of a lie on his tongue.
“You are wrong, Elliot. After what I just saw. After what you just did. I am a killer, but I am not going to kill you.”
“Thank you, Jonathan. I need bandages for my knee.”
“He is going to kill you, though.” Jonathan stood up and walked back toward the fiend that Elliot had seen shambling toward him. The dead man reached for Jonathan as he walked up to meet him, but Jonathan spun the man and dropped him to the ground. Grabbing the dead man’s feet, he raised his legs and stomped on the man’s knees, snapping them backwards.
“What the hell are you doing, Jon?” Elliot asked in a friendly tone. The fiend was heavier than Jonathan had anticipated, but the snow made it easier to drag the body over to Elliot. “Oh shit. Come on, Johnny. We’re friends, you and I.”
Jonathan slammed the fiend down onto his stomach right in front of Elliot. “Are you ready to feel the pain that these people have felt? I will not give you the honor of putting you down when you come back, though. I will hang you from a tree for all to see.”
“If you do this, Jonathan, how will you ever learn more about what your father was working on?” Elliot said calmly. “There is so much more to the story than what you know. I know it all. I was there.”
“You lie!” Jonathan exclaimed. The fiend flayed his arms around wildly underneath the young man.
“I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll tell you what I know if you let me go.”
Jonathan thought about it for a moment. Of course he wanted to know the whole story. He wanted to know how to stop this, but what if his father wasn’t the good man he thought he was. Could he really use anything Elliot said to help put a stop to the undead? Jonathan lowered his pistol to the back of the fiend’s head and fired a round through it. Chunks of skull and brain erupted back up at him, covering his face and giving him a more menacing look.
Elliot told the story, or at least his side of the story, of what went down prior to the day Sam came back from the dead in the BCRC laboratory. Jonathan listened closely to every word, every detail of Elliot’s story. Some of it sounded too outrageous to be true, but when dead people came back to kill, nothing was impossible.
“Now, run and get me some bandages for my knee,” Elliot ordered when his story was finished.
Jonathan stood and turned back to the town. Seeing the destruction brought back the rage. He never intended on allowing Elliot to live, but once again he wanted him to feel the pain. “I think I have another idea,” Jonathan said. “Wait here.”
He disappeared around the tin exterior of the common area for several minutes. Elliot wasn’t sure what Jonathan was up to, but he didn’t have a good feeling about it. He fought through the pain as he rolled to his stomach and began to crawl into the forest. He knew that at the rate he was moving, he wouldn’t make it far. The .50 cal was only a few yards away. He started toward it. Then he heard Jonathan’s footsteps.
“Where do you think you are going? I brought back someone who can help you,” Jonathan said.
Relieved, Elliot rolled onto his back. He found himself face to face with a small child, six or seven years old. Blood gushed from her chest. Bones stuck out from her flesh in several places on her chest and legs. “What the hell are you doing, Jonathan? This isn’t funny. Remember our deal, man. You don’t want to be a killer. Trust me; it is the hardest thing you will ever have to live with.”
“Then I better get used to living with it,” replied Jonathan as he released the girls arms from his grasp.
Elliot’s scream filled the air as the child fell on top of him. He stuck his hands in her face to keep her away, but she bit through the rough skin. He could feel her teeth grinding against the bones in his fingers. Pulling his hand free caused her to fall on top of him. Blood poured from her mouth as her hot breath washed over his face. With her mouth open wide she bit down on his head. Her bottom teeth scraped across his eye, causing it to burst open. The pain caused him to drift in and out of consciousness.
Jonathan listened to the man’s screams. He watched as he was torn open. The girl was small yet violent. She stomped and scratched her way through his body. She pulled veins and muscle from his neck, spraying blood over of the snow. When Elliot finally stopped screaming, Jonathan put a round in the girl’s head, picked up the .50 cal, and turned around. Laikynn was staring at him with a horrified look that confused Jonathan. She was responsible for the same atrocities. She too had played judge, jury, and executioner, condemning people to the same brutal fate. Then he realized that he had a smile on his face.
Chapter 12
“Doctor Taylor. There are some people here to see you,” the gentle voice of the receptionist said eagerly over the phone in Greg’s office. She has been working for Greg for many years, and she was one of the nicest people Greg has ever worked with.
“I’ll be out in just a moment,” Greg responded kindly, yet his voice trembled slightly. Did someone know? Certainly nobody could have seen him. It was foggy and he checked. There was no one around. For a moment he could see himself sneaking out of the window and running away from everything. He didn’t know where he would go, but he had enough money to take him anywhere. The police would only want to question him at this point, so he doubted they would have his bank accounts locked just yet.
“Doctor Taylor!” the friendly voice said with enthusiasm as Greg walked out into the reception area.
“President Granderson?” Greg asked, perplexed by this unexpected meeting, as he reached out to shake the president’s hand. He looked into the man’s honest brown eyes and knew instantly how he made it to the White House. Those eyes were the truth, even when the man attached to them was lying through his teeth. There was something comforting about them.
“Please, call me Kyle,” he said with a genuine smile that Greg was sure he used to win the last election. “This man to my right is Elliot James. He is the absolute best of my security staff.”
Elliot reached out to shake Greg’s trembling hand. The man’s ebony skin stretched over his muscular frame.
“You must be nervous, Greg. Is there somewhere we can talk in private?” President Granderson asked.
“Yes, follow me.” Greg led them back to the door behind the receptionist. He smiled at her as they walked by. She had an excited look on her face that Greg first thought was for the president, but he soon realized she was staring at the muscular black man. The red security light flashed green when he swiped his badge through the card-reader on the door as Greg escorted the two men back to his office.
“Thank you for meeting me unannounced,” the President said as Greg closed his office door behind them. “I know what it’s like to be a busy man.”
“It certainly isn’t every day that the President of the United States drops by,” Greg said with a smile. He was truly honored, but he felt something wasn’t right about this. Certainly they wouldn’t send the president after him for what he had done. He turned his gaze to Elliot. The tall black man stood p
erfectly still, like a statue. He wore a finely pressed dark blue suit, and Greg was certain that he was carrying at least two firearms that he could draw before anyone knew what was happening.
“Yes. I don’t often make stops like this. Before we get down to business, Doctor Taylor, I’d like to ask you a question,” President Granderson said.
“Sure,” Greg replied unsure of what to expect.
“Have you … now I don’t really know how best to ask. Have you seen this child?” President Kyle Granderson held out the missing child flyer for Greg to see with one hand and ran his fingers through his thinning brown hair with the other. “Now when you reply, please call me Kyle.”
“OK … Kyle,” Greg said swallowing hard enough for the other two men to hear. He took note of the man’s smile as he took the flyer. He looked it over, and gasped. “That is little Sammy. He lives in my neighborhood.” Greg continued to look alarmed.
“Oh, cut the shit, Greg. Elliot and I witnessed you backing over this poor boy. Didn’t we, Elliot?”
“We saw everything, sir,” Elliot responded without moving to look at either of them. His deep voice was smooth and calm.
“See? But don’t be alarmed, my friend. We know what you do here. We know you brought that boy here, and we have come to offer a little bit of assistance.”
“What do you mean? What do you want with me?” Greg asked as he began to panic.
“Settle down before you give yourself a heart attack. I have something that will help you, if you’ll take it. We have, in the past, been able to revive people from death, but it has–“ he turned to Elliot, then back to Greg, “never been permanent. You possess an incredible knowledge, Greg. I think you can break the barriers that we have found ourselves faced with all too often.”