Brent Acuff - Undead Nation 02

by Rescue

  The screams from the second group continued even over the sound of gunfire. Alex turned to Liam and Donovan and said, "I'm going to see who's hurt and see what I can do. Keep me covered for another thirty seconds, then cease fire and keep low. We're not going to be able to shoot our way in." The two men nodded and returned to task in front of them.

  "Go!" Liam yelled and raised up to provide Alex with cover.

  Alex lowered his head and started running. Bullets exploded around him, kicking up dirt and rocks and impacting in the trees. Alex was in sight of the others when everything went terribly wrong.

  Pain and fire exploded in Alex's right thigh. His left stopped working and he stumbled, his momentum carrying him the rest of the way into the knot of trees. Alex's head slammed into the ground and he rolled into Dr. Cahn who was leaning low over Luke.

  Stars swam in his vision and the blackness started to close around him. The last words he heard before falling unconscious were of the doctor telling him to hold on. Alex's eyes rolled up in his head and he succumbed to the dark.

  -----

  The two drumlines met at the center of the football field, staring at one another across the fifty yard line. The rotting flesh of the zombies was almost humorous when you considered the colorful band uniforms they were wearing and the drums they had strapped to their bodies. The smell of their rotting flesh made Alex gag, but the deafening moans from the undead crowd was what really worried him.

  Thousands of zombies crowded in every last inch of the stadium bleachers. They pumped their arms in the air and moaned their call of hunger and desire in what mirrored the chanting at a sporting event. A voiced boomed from the darkness that surrounded the stadium, its low, hoarse voice announcing the events that were playing our before Alex.

  "It's a tie! To determine the winner, the drum lines will meet of the fifty yard line for a winner takes all drum-off!"

  The assembled crowd went wild, or as nearly as Alex could tell. This had to be a dream, or more likely, one hell of a nightmare.

  "It's the Raging Dead versus the Bloody Gore Spitters! Everyone, give it up! Let's get drumming!"

  The crowd's volume increased to a deafening pitch as one of the zombie drum lines, Alex was not sure which, began flailing their arms at the drums strapped to their bodies. A horrid noise boomed out of the drums. It sounded like they drummers were playing the bones of the dead, the sound punctuated by the cries and wailing of the dying.

  The first drum line finished their performance, if that is what it really was. The second drum line picked up where the first left off, the sound even more horrifying than before. The cries of the dying echoed in Alex's ears nearly splitting his head. He put his hands over his ears, squeezing as hard as possible to close out the sounds that assaulted him. The beating of the drums and the wailing of the dead seemed to originate from within his head, pounding at the insides of his skull.

  The second drum line finished the horrific dances of arms and sound, bringing the audience to their feet with cries and moans that shook the foundations of the earth. Just when Alex thought this terrible nightmare would end, both drum lines set out again with their conflagration of sound, each group desperately trying to out do their rival.

  Arms swung and flailed, bringing bones and sticks down on their terrible drums. The sounds of ripping tore through Alex and he forced his eyes open to a shocking sight.

  Joints popped and cracked. Tendons and ligaments tore free as arms were ripped free of their bodies. Heads lolled and spines snapped at the drummers continued their feverish bashing of drums. The zombies were tearing the own bodies limb from limb in the attempt to best the other.

  And then there was silence, save for one terrified scream. Forcing open his eyes, Alex realized the scream came from his own throat, now raw and scratchy with the effort. He forced himself into silence and peered around him at the corpses that now stood silent with their eyes pinned to him. They were waiting for a winner, and Alex was to choose.

  He shook his head, tears welling in his eyes as he started to back away from the drum lines that were now bearing down on him. He tried to scream again, to tell them to stop, stay away, but his voice failed him. Only a growling whisper escaped his lips.

  Alex continued to back away from the oncoming drum lines, shaking his head furiously now and begging in a whisper for them to stop. He ran into something behind him. Alex froze where he stood and began breathing fast. Not able to stop himself, Alex turned to see what had stopped his retreat and wretched when he realized what he was seeing.

  Liam, Morgan, and Hayden were splayed open before him, their insides open for all to see. They hung there, tied up by their hands and feet, the flesh where the ropes held them bloody and raw. And they were alive.

  Their mouths moved in silent screams as they wordlessly begged to die. Blood drained from their bodies in steady streams to pool in large tubs set below them. A half dozen zombies, each one broken and missing the bottom half of their bodies, lay over the edges of the tubs, drinking at the blood as it flowed in.

  Hands closed around Alex as the zombie drummers finally caught up to him. When he screamed this time, the sound split the sky into an explosion of light and pain.

  -----

  "Jesus Christ!" Alex cried. He woke with a start in a barely light room that seemed cold and damp. It was quiet, and the room seemed empty save for Alex. His head pounded and the room spun like a top, but Alex tried to get up.

  He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and pushed himself up. Alex immediately regretted the move. The room spun around him and the darkness closed in again. Alex remembered the ground rushing up to meet him.

  -----

  Alex awoke again and this time had sense enough to keep his eyes closed until the room stopped spinning. Something cold pressed against his forehead and Alex slowly opened his eyes to see a woman sitting on the side of his bed, wiping his face with a cold wash cloth.

  "Maybe this time you will wise up and stay in bed. You've already had one concussion today, you really should take it easy," the woman said.

  Alex struggles through the drug induced haze to speak. "Where am I?" he asked.

  "You're safe. As safe as you can be in Austin," she said with a hint of sarcasm and smiled at him. "My name is Theresa Hill."

  Alex push himself up to his elbows and nearly passed out from the effort. Nausea welled up inside of him and he knew he was about to throw up. He leaned over the bed and heaved into a bucket that was quickly, and expertly placed in front of him. Alex wiped his hand across his mouth and rolled back onto his pillows. He placed his hands over his eyes and tried desperately to squeeze his brains back in his head. All he could do was moan.

  "That wasn't too bright," Theresa Hill chuckled. "You had a serious blow to the head, not to mention the bullet that Dr. Cahn had to pull out of your thigh."

  Alex removed his hands to look at the woman through half lidded eyes. "Dr. Cahn? Is the doctor okay? What about Luke? He was injured..."

  "They're fine," Theresa interrupted. "Luke had a pretty nasty wound from that grenade, but Dr. Cahn said he will be fine. Everyone else made it through that debacle without a mark on them, thank God."

  "What, what happened?" Alex asked pressing his hands back over his eyes. The pounding in his head wasn't getting better anytime soon, and Alex did not know how much longer he could take the pain.

  "Trigger happy, commando wanna-bes," Theresa spat. "Those guys of have been shooting at anything that moves, living or dead." Theresa looked at Alex and smiled a warm smile. "You guys are lucky. No one else has survived that gunfire. Guess it helped that you were armed to the teeth with a little more brains than any of the others."

  Alex removed his hands again and looked at Theresa Hill with a questioning look. "How many others have there been?" he asked, dreading the worst. His worst thoughts were confirmed.

  "Dozens of groups, probably a hundred or so people, gunned down as they were looking for shelter in this hell-hole of a cit
y," Theresa said with disgust. "The sergeant wanted to make sure that Amy and I were safe." Theresa nearly spat the name when she spoke it. The anger in her face cleared and she smiled at Alex again. "But you don't need to hear any of the now, you need to rest. I'll go and get Dr. Cahn. He wanted to see you as soon as you woke up again."

  She placed the wash cloth on the nightstand and quietly left the room. Alex lay still, his hands once again pressed to his eyes, desperately wishing the jackhammer in his head to stop.

  It seemed like an eternity before Alex heard the door to his room open again and someone walk softly over to the bed. Alex glanced out from beneath his hands to look on the sour face of Dr. Cahn. "Huh...what's up doc?" Alex started to laugh at his own joke before the pain in his skull overcame him. Dr. Cahn chuckled too, but Alex didn't know if it was the joke, or the pain that Alex was going through.

  "You've taken quite a beating Mr. Kemp," Dr. Cahn said in as much of a professional tone as Alex had ever hear.

  "Mister Kemp?" Alex said through the pain. "Why so formal?"

  "Because right now you are my patient, not my friend." The tone in the doctor's voice worried Alex and he forced himself to remove his hands and look at Dr. Cahn.

  "What's going on, doc? Where are we?" Alex thought he knew the answers to those questions, but right now, anything could go.

  "We are where we are supposed to be, although," Dr. Cahn paused a moment to gather his thoughts, "the situation is, shall we say, less than ideal."

  "How so?" Alex asked, pressing the heels of his palms back into his eye sockets.

  "There is a little, well, machismo, going on between the security chief and our guys," Dr. Cahn said.

  "Machismo?" asked Alex.

  "Okay, the security chief is a dick," Dr. Cahn snapped. "The son-of-a-bitch confiscated all of our weapons and supplies, claiming they were a 'security threat.'" He shook his head when he thought about the conversation that had taken place between them. "We are basically glorified prisoners here. We're not locked up, but we can't really go anywhere either."

  "Okay," Alex mused, "I'll deal with that later." The doctor chuckled at the statement. "Save it, doc. I've dealt with his kind before. But more importantly, how is everyone else? How is Luke?"

  Dr. Cahn's face grew serious at the mention of their comrade. "He's not doing too good, but he'll make it. I didn't have much to work with, but it was better here than out there." The doctor inclined his head to indicate the attack they had survived. "He sustained a nasty wound to the right side of his chest, but I don't think that any major organs were hit. It'll be a few days before he can move, though."

  Alex pushed the covers to the side and made to pull himself out of bed. Dr. Cahn quickly, but gently pushed him back into the bed.

  "And it'll be at least another day before you can be up and about. Don't forget that you have a concussion and a bullet wound in your leg. It was quite a bleeder, too. Wasn't sure if you were going to make it." Dr. Cahn patted Alex on the arm and stood to leave. "Get your rest, son. There will be plenty of things for you to do to get in trouble later. For now, sleep."

  Alex wanted to argue with the doctor, to force his way past the man who was just being overly cautious, but he didn't have the energy. The doctor was right, and Alex knew it. He was in no shape to be out of bed.

  "Fine, doc. Twist my arm why don't you." Alex smiled at Dr. Cahn and continued. "Wake me in the morning. We've got to start making plans to get out of here and back to New Hope. Okay?"

  Dr. Cahn smiled and nodded. "See you in the morning."

  -----

  Alex padded through the dimly lit halls of the Hill's Austin house. He could hear quiet talking up in front of him and headed in that direction. After talking with Dr. Cahn the night before, Alex had slept for a few more hours. Now, in the early morning, he was awake and trying to get his bearings.

  "Halt," a quiet, but stern voice said behind Alex. He could hear the distinctive sound of a bullet being chambered. Alex slowly raised his hands over his head.

  "Don't move," the voice said. "Turn around."

  "Well, which is it?" Alex asked. "Do you want me to not move, or turn around?"

  "Shut up." The voice was louder now, clearly frustrated with Alex's sarcasm. "Turn around, slowly."

  Alex did as he was asked, making sure to follow the man's instructions to the letter, deliberately taking his time to comply with the request. "Satisfied?" Alex asked. "You're not going to shoot and unarmed and injured man are you?"

  The gunman took his time with his response, seeming to think about the option of actually shooting Alex. Finally the man barked another order at Alex. "Move," he said, showing Alex the way with the point of his rifle. Alex hesitated, and the man motioned again with his rifle. "Move," he ordered, frustration edging his voice.

  Alex did as he was told not wanting to push the man past the point of actually pulling the trigger. Alex walked slowly back past the man making sure to keep his hands in plain sight. The gun barrel never wavered from him.

  "Turn here," the man grunted when they had walked nearly the entire length of the long corridor. Alex looked back over his shoulder at the man and inclined his head in the direction of an open door. It was eerily dark in the room beyond. "Yes, there," the man barked. Still keeping his hands over his head, Alex limped into the darkened doorway.

  The barrel of the gun entered the doorway ahead of the man, as Alex knew. With only mute light entering from the corridor and no lights to illuminate the room they were entering, it was difficult for the gunman to see Alex react.

  Alex turned on the man, grabbing the barrel of the gun and simultaneously pushing the weapon back. The motion served two functions; it got the dangerous end of the rifle away from Alex and took the pressure off the man's trigger finger. The gunman continued the momentum, pulling the rifle farther back to try and regain control of the weapon. Alex, too, continued the momentum, bringing his elbow up to collide with the man's nose. There was a sickening wet crunch as his nose broke and blood sprayed across his chest and Alex's arm.

  The gunman's grip on the weapon slackened and Alex was able to slip the strap holding it from around the man's shoulder. The man whimpered and placed his hands across his face, trying to stem the flow of blood and failing. "My nose. You broke my nose," he cried.

  Alex cracked the man lightly on the head with the butt of the rifle, gaining his attention. The man looked at Alex through the tears streaming from his eyes and saw his own rifle pointed at him. "I come in peace," Alex said and grinned at the man. "Take me to your leader."

  -----

  All conversation ceased when the bloodied guard entered the room, followed closely by someone who should not have been armed. Alex held the gun with the barrel pointed at the ground in front of him, his finger no where near the trigger. Alex did not want to start a fire fight, but he wasn't prepared to give in completely just yet.

  "I come bearing gifts," he said to the startled crowd gathered around the large desk in the middle of the room. Half a dozen men stood frozen as they stared in confusion at the scene before them. Donovan and Liam were present, but their shock was as much, if not more than that of the others. "What, no hello?"

  Alex's banter seemed to draw some of the men out of their stupor. Three of the men fumbled for the sidearms that were strapped to their sides and quickly brought the weapons to bear on Alex. The injured guard in front of Alex cowered and raised his hands in front of his face, pleading for the men not to shoot. Alex stood motionless, a sly smile across his face. The three now armed men began yelling for Alex to drop his weapon.

  "Call them off, commander. Call your men off. This is Alex," Liam ordered. "Call them of f,Byron." The tall man behind the desk stood for a moment, taking in the drama unfolding before him. Slowly, almost as if this were all some big joke, the man stood and crossed his arms.

  "Stand down," he said to the men in front of him. "Stand down, all of you. This is our," and here the man paused. "Our guest," he finished w
ith contempt. Dr. Cahn's brief warnings the night before had given Alex a clue to the nature of their stay. Alex was pretty sure they were not wanted there, and his treatment by the guard in the corridor had shown him just how little they were accepted.

  "That includes you, Mr. Kemp," the man ordered in a low voice. His own men were lowering their sidearms, but each kept them unholstered with the fingers on the trigger.

  "Alex, put the god-damned gun down," Liam barked in a hushed voice. Alex broke his gaze with the tall man giving orders to stare at his friend.

  "You could have just asked," Alex said without a care in the world. Slowly and deliberately, Alex reached underneath the rifle with his trigger hand and removed the magazine. He racked the rifle twice, ejecting the cartridge in the chamber, plus one more for safety. Never taking his eyes of the the armed men before him, Alex bent low and placed the rifle on the ground.

  The three armed men again raised their sidearms and moved at Alex before being stopped by a short bark from their commander. "Hold!" he said, and the three men stopped immediately. "I said stand down, dammit! Now holster your weapons." One of the three turned to look at the commander over his shoulder while the others kept their gaze firmly locked on their target. The commander nodded once to his subordinate, who in turn snapped his fingers once and all sidearms were replaced.

  "Now, would you mind explaining why one of my men is covered in blood?" the tall man asked.

  Alex smiled wider and spoke. "Gladly. I broke his nose because he pulled a gun on me. I'm unarmed and injured...and that's no way to treat someone."

  The tall man seemed to consider this for a moment. "Mr. Patel. Mr. Reid. Please take Mr. Baker to the infirmary. See what the good Dr. JJ Cahn can do for him." The two men grabbed their injured comrade by the arms and quickly led him from the room. "Please," the tall man said, gesturing for Alex to join them, "sit."

  Alex did as requested, the once sly smile now gone from his face. His point had been made. There was no more need for show.