The Nameless Survivor (Valkyrie)

by Hawk, J. K.

  “In the beginning it was easy.” I continued. “However, now the infected are widespread, migrating continuously. The living on the other hand are sparse, and are still infected with their own corruption.”

  “You have a tendency to be obnoxiously vague.” Masters commented.

  “The past no longer matters, nor do the details.”

  “Ah, but the details are what makes history.”

  “History is written by the victor, and the infected can't write.”

  “No they can't, but you have to admit, they have left their signature.” Masters concluded.

  I turned my attention back to the seafood, twisting and cracking at the knuckles and claws, eagerly fumbling to remove more of the sweet and salty goodness. I sheepishly pecked around at the other foods, but they disgustingly tasted their age. The canned vegetables were completely mush and left a tinny aftertaste in the back of my mouth. But I did take immediate interest in the warm biscuits, being sure to cover their dryness by smearing them with tamale before popping the crusty goodness into my mouth.

  “So tell me about this GFS you mentioned before.” Masters requested, and Heather immediately spoke up.

  “It's an organization of survivors, working to bring people back out of hiding.”

  “How do they claim they can protect you?” Masters asked.

  “They've constructed dead-proof forts, survivor colonies.” she explained.

  “Nothing is dead-proof, not completely anyway.”

  “It's worth a shot, though. It can't be any worse than out there.” Heather exclaimed.

  “Well, Rockland is not far from here, but I doubt you will find anything there.” Master's took a swig of his tea. “Your more than welcome here, we have plenty of room.”

  I continued to listen to their conversation intently, but my eyes remained locked on Sawyers. He too was listening, but continued to lash out at me with his menacing glare. The man was clearly ill, shell-shocked some may say, personally I saw him as a fucking nut. He obviously was carrying some unspoken animosity, something unresolved from his past, and lashing out at me is his only way of dealing with it.

  Having my fill I began to pile up the scraps from my plate and onto Mia's. Immediately she lowered the plate onto the floor and let out a sweet and airy whistle. Nova immediately darted in from the other room and made way for her own feast of left-overs. On the other hand, Little Marky never ate a thing, rather just laid his head quietly upon his mother’s lap for the duration of the meal.

  “Private Pinetti!” Masters roared, and his subordinate stood from his chair. “See to it these kind people have suitable sleeping quarters, and secure their weapons as well.”

  “Aye, Lieutenant.” Pinetti answered.

  Immediately I stood from my chair as the soldier scurried out of the room. Masters saw the defiance in my eyes and met my stance, waiting for my objections. Heather grabbed hold of my arm, attempting to ease my temper and pull me back into my seat. But, I was determined, the last straw was lost, and our hosts had just begun their deceitful ploy.

  “Our weapons are secure with us!” I protested.

  “Relax.” Master gently said. “You will get them back when or if you decide to leave. Military Regulations, you do understand?” His facade was getting old.

  “Then we leave now.” I said, pulling Mia up from her chair.

  “No.” Heather stammered. “It's okay, they are trained professionals, so we won't need our weapons.”

  “See,” Masters added, “Heather understands, we are trained to protect, its safe here.”

  “Marines are trained to kill, that is it.”

  “I assure you it is safe, what can I do to gain your trust?”

  “Safe?” I paused, “You lost ten men, and you claim it's safe?” My questioning angered him, but I swore to myself I would not back down from this. “We are leaving now.” Master's hand crashed down hard upon his plate, shattering it and sending food flying about the table.

  “MY MEN DIED DEFENDING ME! SO THAT WE COULD CONTINUE THIS MISSION!” He screamed, but then his emotions cooled. “So that we can give this land back to people such as yourself.”

  “From the looks of your inventory, it appears you take more than you give back.” I scolded.

  “Stop this!” Heather cried out.

  “Your friend is right, there is no need for this hostility.” Masters gracefully wipe his hands off with a rag. “All I ask is that you stay the night. It's cold and dark. You can leave first thing in the morning, we will even provide an escort if you like.”

  Masters continued to urge us to stay, promising that confiscating our weapons was only a temporary military sanction, and not a state of pillage. Heather bought into it immediately, and with some convincing, persuaded me to stay. More for her sake than mine, I could never leave her behind. Both she and Marky have become one of us, our own tiny colony.

  So, I shall keep my eyes on Masters at all times, Sawyer as well. There is still something about his stature, something that says he is constantly working behind the scenes. I can only watch, and quietly plot a way out of any scenario, unfortunately it appears my options are lim....

  supplemental;

  The noxious taste of chemicals permeated my mouth, and an irritating burn blazed within my nostrils. I opened my eyes to find myself dangling by my hands from the rafters of what I presumed was the basement. A large open space, barren concrete floors, aside from the brown stains of old blood. To the far side was another room, closed off by a heavily chain door. Yet, a faint shuffling was all too obvious to what was hidden beyond those chains

  Masters, Lachance, Esgrow, and Sawyer all stood before me, talking mischievously amongst themselves. My head still in a fog, I could not make out their words. Pinetti was nowhere to be seen, for all I knew he was standing just behind me as I hung nude before the others. My legs were securely chained to the floor, and to my side a table adorn with an assortment of tools. Everything from a Hammer and a pair of pliers, to a propane-torch and wire-cutters. As the fog began to lift, I was able to make out the Lieutenants words.

  “Wakey Wakey, cheese dick!” His voice echoed in my head. “How do you like our center pieces?” He said as they all chuckled.

  Behind them, which I failed to see before, were two stacks of pallets. Tightly bound to them with thick rope was Mia and Heather, clad in nothing more than their own undergarments. Both gagged and positioned towards me, and audience for my impending torture and conditional death. Little Marky was the only one who was not constrained, but could only huddle in corner and whimper in fear.

  “String him up, castrate him, and then kill him.” Masters voice echoed within the barren basement. “That was your suggestion, wasn't it?” I didn't respond. “Well, you’re already strung up, and I can guarantee your castration. However, your death may not come as quick as you requested.”

  “Sir, I respectfully request the pregger-bitch be solely mine, sir.” Sawyer called out and Masters chuckled.

  “And what will you do with her, soldier?” He asked.

  “She will be my consort, sir. Spoils of war.” Sawyer answered.

  “And the child she bares?”

  “A future breeder for me, or a future soldier for you.”

  “Esgrow, Lachance, are you in favor of sharing the other whore?”

  “YES SIR!” They both exclaimed as Masters approached me.

  “You see, we already have the means to build a great army. Starting with that sniveling little boy over there.” He paused a moment as he leaned his face into mine. “Unfortunately, your defiance is not required. I assure you, we will be gentle to your little bitches. As gentle as pussy-deficient grunts can be.”

  Masters roared with laughter as he moved off to the table and picked up the wire cutters and torch before resuming his position in front of me. I screamed, and cursed, fighting my binds. Crazed within my own constraints. However my fighting was all but useless. Masters handed the torch to Sawyer, then grabbed hard and
firm onto my penis, as he yanked it straight out while resting his wire-cutters at the base.

  “Please, Please don't do this!” I cried in humility. “We will leave this place, you will never see us again!”

  “We?” He asked. “Why would I let our precious provisions go free? You’re the only expendable item here.” Drawing back my pleas, I looked deep and convincingly into his eyes.

  “What would your commanding officer say?” I asked as a last ditch effort of persuasion.

  “OOHRA!” He responded with a cold and detestable arrogance.

  “NO ONE MOVE!” Called out the generally quiet Pinetti as he stumbled down the stairwell with rifle in hand.

  “LOWER THAT WEAPON, SOLDIER!” Masters called out, letting go of his grip on me.

  “NO SIR! I CAN NOT ALLOW THIS, SIR!”

  “Pinetti that was an order. You will obey or you will face court-marshal.”

  The soldier chuckled lightly, then steadied his rifle against his shoulder, taking a perfect aim at his commander’s head.

  “Court Martial? By you?” Pinetti responded.

  “By a military tribunal, you could be shot for this, soldier?”

  “And what about you, sir. What punishment will you receive?”

  “I am not the one threatening a commanding officer, now put that fire-arm down.”

  “No sir, I cannot stand by any longer.” He paused. “Illegal despoliation, rape... MURDER! No, this end's today.”

  “When this is all over, when our forces regain control of this country, you will regret your insubordination.”

  “Our forces? This country? This country is dead, everyone is dead. We have no forces!” He paused for a moment, stepping closer to his fellow grunts. Rage and hate burned behind his eyes. “These people are desperately trying to survive, and you prey on them. Like many before, there only crime is believing there is hope in this GFS, which you deny exists.” A smirk crossed his face. “No, these people will be given the chance, even if I have to kill you.”

  “And what of your crimes, Private?” Masters lashed back. “I watched you, we all watched you defile that woman. Used her as your own little slave. I stood over you many time as you had your way with her, then, ultimately you took her life.”

  “I've told you never to speak of her!” Pinetti retorted. “I loved her, and she loved me! It was you who slit her throat!”

  “By your hand, soldier. Your infatuation with her jeopardized our mission!”

  “I may have blood on my hands, and soon I will be judge for it. But, you will go first. We failed our mission, and it is time to be dishonorable discharged.”

  Masters never had a chance to respond, Pinetti snapped the trigger back, sending Lachance's head into oblivion. Sawyer, Esgrow and the Lieutenant stumbled back in surprise, and as their fallen soldier's blood poured out onto the concrete floor, the caged Necrotics quickly became restless. We all heard it, the clawing and snarling from behind the door, the smell of fresh blood enraged their hunger. I feared and prayed they would break free and end this once and for all.

  “YOU STUPID NIGGER!” Masters cried out. “You dare murder your own brother!”

  “My brother - was already dead. Condemned by you.” Pinetti stepped forward, tensing his rifle towards his commander’s head. “Now, untie them, or you’re next.”

  Masters hesitated at first, as if to test the marines resolve, yet fear overcame his defiance, and he complied. He started with me, unchaining my hands and feet before turning to the girls. My instinct was to lunge for him, break his neck before charging the others. But I held back those urges, Pinetti appeared to have the situation under control. As the lieutenant began to loosen the binds on Heather, Pinetti motioned for Sawyer to free Mia. Once free, Sawyer swung her about, placing her in a tight head lock, and my instinct took over as I charged him.

  “DON'T OR ILL SNAP IT!” He called out, and I stopped in place.

  Pinetti, however, did not fall for the man's possible bluff, and fired off a round. The bullet flew too close for comfort passed Mia's head, her hair billowing into the air before the projectile grazed the deranged soldiers neck. He instantly released his grip, crying out in pain as he grasped the bleeding flesh with both hands. Mia ran to me, holding me tight around my bare waste and burying her head into my chest.

  “YOU MOTHER FUCKER!” Sawyer called out.

  “All of you, against the rack!” Pinetti cried out.

  Masters and Esgrow instantly obeyed their fellow soldier, as well as Sawyer. But, only after a moment of defiance. The Lieutenant had lost his commanding demeanor, and now eyed the room to the far end, fully aware of the growing hunger from within. In his eyes I could see his prayers, begging for death by bullet. If I had my gun, I would have willingly obliged him.

  “Your supplies and weapons are upstairs, you should go, find your GFS.” Pinetti addressed me.

  “You can come with us.” Heather said.

  “No, the lieutenant was right. I have done some bad things, and our mission needs to end with us, like it did with our fallen brethren.”

  “This makes up for your prior crimes, you don't need to stay.” I said.

  “Nothing can redeem me.” He paused a moment, then slowly backed towards the locked room, his gun still aimed at his demoralized comrades. “You will find a grenade on the table upstairs. Before you leave, toss it down.” He finished as he reached the door. Then resolutely he smashed the lock with the butt of his rifle. The chains rattled and clang to the floor as the door slowly swayed open. Pinetti dropped to his knees in acceptance as a half dozen dead shuffled out from the darkness and converged onto him. Without delay, we all ran for the stairs, making sure to slam and lock the door shut behind us. The last thing I saw was Sawyer charging to the stairwell as he was intercepted by a famished necrotic.

  We never spoke as we redressed and reclaimed our supplies. It was still dark out, but without complaint the others made way for the exit, willing to face the dead in the night rather than stay here. Before following them, I grabbed up the grenade from the table and walked back over to the stairwell door. Above all the shrieks and snarls, I could here Master's lone voice, crying like a little child as he was consumed by his beasts. I waited patiently for his wails to cease, ensuring that he received his brutal punishment in full. When confident of his demise, I unlatched the door, quickly pulling the pin from the lemon sized explosive, and tossed down the stairwell.

  2nd Day, 6th Hunter's Moon;

  No-Man's Land, a long stretch of Route 17 that is as empty as our stomachs. Barren, forgotten, not even the dead graze this frozen wasteland. Nothing, except for mangy gulls and an obsidian posse of ravens. Rats with wings, congregating at the coast-line where food is plenty, but never like this, never so many. I’d swear there were a thousand, maybe more, which occasionally created a looming stigmata across the sky as the flocks took to the air. And those were just the gulls, the crows primarily clung to their perches atop old and sagging power-lines. They had become our colorless-guards, and we were their forthcoming lunch-wagon.

  We are all freezing, overly exhausted, and dangerously emaciated. With each brazen step closer to our sanctuary the fear of “no-end” grips us hard. Even though we are getting close the lack of life, not to mention the lack of food, is taking a heavy toll on us. I don't believe we will find salvation when we reach Fort Rockland, I don't believe we are meant to live.

  Not that Marky ever talked much, but lately, he says nothing at all. He has slumped into the same lost depression Mia and I have suffered from. Heather on the other hand is all that has held us together in this no-man's land. Her enthusiasm towards our unnerving destination is just a thin rubber band, binding us simply to hope. Inevitably, that elastic will soon snap.

  We have cut cross-country to try and shorten reach Route 27 a bit sooner, however, my memory of this area had failed me, and we found soon enough that a river flowed between us and the main highway. Much too far to backtrack, and I had not recollection o
f where the next crossing was. Thankfully the last two weeks of frigid temperatures had laid a sheet of ice before us. Due to lack of snow it was like plate glass stretching a hundred feet to the other side. So crystal-clear that we could see random debris flowing downstream; leaves, weeds, sticks, and the dead...

  We were shuffling ourselves slowly across the fragile ice-way when we saw him.

  “Charon,” I mutter as we stared in disbelief at the body slowly drifting downstream, “The Ferry-Man of the River Styx.”

  “The path to the underworld.” Heather remarked, undoubtedly familiar with my analogy, yet she did not take much comfort in it. I on the other hand was fascinated by this, much like Elmer fascinated me. The character diversity within them, the behaviors from one lame-brain to the next. There had to be something more to this infection, a purpose of some kind far beyond annihilation.

  I could not turn away from him, his murky eyes staring right back as his hands desperately tried to claw through the frozen barrier. Overgrown fingernails barely able to slow his endless drift down the river. He was, or once had been an older fellow, possibly a priest. His attire was all but torn away, only ragged threads covered his wasting remains.

  He was a sorcerer, luring me closer with hypnotic influence, gently caressed the smooth and cold sheet over his head. Carefully I traced over his face with my fingers, as if petting a cat or a dog. I admired this former man of the cloth, who now carried out the devil's bidding. He is the effect of God's injustice, and a symbol of all of man's corruption.

  Out of respect, I removed an old tarnished coin from my coat pocket. The only form of currency I still held onto, my father’s lucky silver dollar, a token of the past. Gently I placed it over the man’s snapping jaws before turning to rejoin the others. As I slowly shuffled off I looked back and softly muttered to the lost Guardian of Hell.

  “For safe passage.”

  Upon reaching the riverbank, we found that we had truly entered hell, that toll had driven us into the grasp of Hades himself. A large swath of forest lay before us, a stretch that would take us the day to cross, and stop our heart at every tree. We stumbled blindly into a herd of slugs, one of the largest I had ever seen. Hundreds of them, stretching the entire forest, mere arm-lengths from each other.