by A. M. Keen
“Well, this is uncomfortable,” Hopkins said, breaking the silence.
Cardell peered upon the weirdo standing from the hatch. The firepower the clown bore did indeed make him uncomfortable.
“Who are you and what do you want?” Cardell asked, as groups of brain dead began to snarl against the stadium gates.
“I’m known as Grout. A group of school kids and their teacher are taking shelter in your camp. Hand them over to me now. I have unfinished business with them.”
“School kids? I can’t say as I have any, or a school teacher for that matter. What unfinished business did you need them for? Is there anything I can help with instead?”
“They killed my brother. I want them all. Now.”
“I told you, pal. We haven’t seen any kids around here. There’s been no one by here in weeks.”
Grout reached down producing a sword from inside the Challenger.
“You see this?” he asked, raising the sword into the air, “this belonged to my brother. It was stolen from his body when he was murdered.”
Cardell shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t recognise it.”
“It was found outside your gate only a few hours ago. I call bullshit on your behalf, Captain, sir. I want them handed to me right here right now. Where are they?” Grout threw the weapon against the metal gate, causing it to clatter.
“I told you I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if you want to get aggressive with me, son, I strongly suggest you reconsider. I have hundreds of rifles all pointing in your direction. I have anti-tank missile launchers ready to engage. I have the authority to shoot on site anyone who places this camp and its inhabitants in danger. Grit, Grunt or whatever your damn name is, I suggest you turn your stolen tank around and get the hell out of my area before you start a fight you cannot finish.”
Grout considered this a moment. He stood within the pleasant summer breeze as it glided over and around the brain dead. Cardell had dismissed them for the moment, confident in the strength of the stadium’s perimeter.
Grout nodded his head whilst holding his hands in the air.
“Okay, my bad. I guess intimidating the army with their own weapons was always going to be a long shot. For that, sir, I apologise. By the way, there’s a camp in the next county completely destroyed. We assumed this was no longer required and took it for ourselves. It wasn’t us who caused the chaos. Anyway, I won’t waste anymore of your time. Sorry again about all of this.” Grout sat down, closing the hatch behind him.
Hopkins sighed. “Christ, I thought he was gonna fire.”
Cardell nodded. “Yeah, me too. The problem is we ain’t getting that Challenger back, no way. Grab the Brimstones. Make sure it doesn’t get back to the main road. Go now before it’s too late.”
Hopkins dropped from the platform. “Now!” he shouted. “Grab the launcher! Get the Brimstones!”
Cardell watched as the hatch arose.
Grout appeared from inside once more. “You know, I was doing some research on this gorgeous beast earlier,” he said, tapping the tank, “and I found out something amazing. Something so fantastic you are going to lose your shit. Are you ready? Okay, here we go. Did you know that this gun fires one hundred and twenty millimetre rounds?”
Cardell nodded. “Yes.”
“Damn it, just when I thought I could look intelligent. I honestly believed you wouldn’t know the answer to that. Stupid on my behalf, I suppose. You’re a Captain, I should have known that you’d know.”
Cardell nodded. “You have to know a hell of a lot of stuff to become a Captain.”
Grout nodded. “Yes, I suppose you do.”
“Is there anything else you’d like to know? About anything?” Cardell knew his men needed time to load the rocket launcher. Anything he could do to buy them some extra seconds, he would.
Grout rubbed his chin before clicking his fingers. “Actually, yes, there is. I often wondered if the ammunition from this beast could fire through metal and I think I know a way of exactly how you can help me out with that, sir.”
Grout dropped the hatch. In seconds, the gun barrel exploded. Round upon round blasted through the gate, shredding through the metal like a wall of cheap paper. Soldiers exploded, caught in the fire. Tents flapped and fell. Sparks flashed out from their contact with metal. Cardell jumped from the platform.
“Breach! Breach!” a voice screamed. The gates pushed open as a swarm of brain dead flooded inside. Gunfire rattled out within the complex. The first line of blood drenched crazies slumped to the floor. A second wave pushed in, prying open the gates. The locking mechanism had been destroyed by the tank’s fire power. Soldiers ran to the breech, firing their guns with extreme prejudice. Blood spattered into the air and across the ground. Crazies slumped as they fell, but more seared inside. Screams began as the hordes reached the soldiers, unable to stop them. Cardell sprinted from the scene, ducking amongst the gunfire. Blood exploded into the air. Intestines spilled onto the floor. The brain dead flooded inside the complex, and still they pushed in.
Cardell fought them off, one after another. Pale faces with deep, black veins filled his vision. With every black mouth knocked away, another replaced it. Bullets whistled past, coming within inches of taking him. Cardell pushed through the madness. His foot froze. Momentum threw him forward causing him to topple and smash to the ground. Someone had grabbed his ankle. As much as he tried, he could not move. Blunt pain pinched at his neck. It increased causing him to yell out. His skin grew taught until the pain clamped tighter and stung. Liquid ran down on to his chin. Pressure fell upon him, immobilising any movement. Blood pattered on to the ground. He knew that flesh had been removed from his neck. Fingers bore into the wound. Cardell screamed at the rawest, most intense pain he’d ever felt. His internal organs crushed by fingers inside his own body. Lumps of muscle torn from the bone. Skin shredded as more hands entered the wound. Agony seared through his head. Fingers pushed deeper inside his body, reaching his throat. He choked as the burning pain collapsed his airways. The hand pulled back, taking with it Cardell’s throat. The lump of flesh floated upward and into the mouth of an attractive, blood-soaked blonde woman.
Seven
Bucky shot from the bed. “What the hell was that?”
The fast, intermittent pops of gunfire sounded from outside.
Aaron jumped up. “Sounds like gun fire!”
Soldiers sprinted past the door. Footfalls echoed throughout the corridor. Shouting boomed between the walls.
“This doesn’t sound good,” Johnny added.
They stood in their quarters as silence, save for the gunfire, engulfed them.
“What now?” Lacey asked.
Bucky moved across to the door, opening it with caution. All around them the gunfire continued. He peered around the door frame and along the pale blue walls to the left. Rapid footfalls approached. From around the corner a soldier appeared, sprinting straight toward them. As he approached, Bucky noticed blood streaked across his face and uniform.
“Go!” the soldier shouted. “Breach!” He continued past, disappearing around another turn.
“Did he say ‘breach’?” Lacey asked.
“This can’t be happening.” Bucky whispered.
“Bucky? Did he say breach?” she asked again.
He turned to her, and to his friends, closing his eyes. “Yes,” he nodded.
“Oh no,” Aaron replied. “No. Not after everything we’ve all been through.”
Bucky turned to the pale wall and for the first time in his life contemplated suicide.
“Grow a set, all of you,” Lacey blasted. “This is the way of our world now, whether you like it or you don’t. Truth is, unless we adapt we’re going to die, all of us. You can bitch and you can cry, but we made it this far.”
“I’m ju
st… I’m just done,” Aaron replied. “I’m tired, more so than I’ve ever been in my life. I just can’t do it.”
“Lacey is right,” Bucky said, turning back to his friends. “We can’t hide it out here, it’s too compact. We need to get away, back into the open. At least there we have a chance.”
“Come on, man,” Johnny added, encouraging his friend. “If I can do this you can do this. It’s like James Ellsworth said when he stepped in the wrestling ring that first time on TV. Any man with two hands has a fighting chance. We’re better off out of this room.”
Aaron sighed. “It doesn’t look like I have much of a choice, does it?”
The lights died, plunging them into darkness. Bucky’s awareness vanished for a second until the piss poor emergency lighting flickered to life. He barely made out the faces of his entourage.
“Are we ever going to get a break,” Johnny sighed.
“If a job is not difficult to do, it’s not worth doing,” Bucky quipped.
A scream bellowed from the corridor outside. Lacey jumped. It could only be one person.
“The soldier,” Johnny said, confirming Bucky’s theory.
“Shit. Alright. Back away,” Bucky ordered, opening the door a tad.
“I…”
“Shhh,” Bucky quipped, ordering Johnny to silence. “I hear something.”
From the far reaches of the corridor a strange, shuffling noise emerged. The darkness heightened his other senses. Through the gloom, a flap struck the tiled floor and then the shuffling sounded once again. In his mind, the form of a bare foot dragging a limp leg emerged.
“It’s coming this way,” Bucky whispered.
“What is it?” Lacey asked.
“It sounds like…” Bucky trailed away as the sound emerged once again. “It sounds like somebody walking, but dragging their other leg behind them.”
“It’s a crazy,” Aaron stated.
Bucky remained silent. He did not doubt his friend’s theory. All about them the muted sound of gun fire continued. The tell-tale sound of groaning emerged. The infected were inside the complex.
The sound approached within the darkened corridor. Bucky lifted a hand and gestured for the rest to stand back. As he peered through the door crack, an infected appeared beneath the emergency lighting. Bucky gasped. The ambling monstrosity stood almost as tall as the light itself. Long, gaunt arms swayed as it moved, dragging a lifeless leg in its wake. The body bore shorts and trainers. Even in the poor light its naked torso glistened with fresh blood. The man ambled past, groaning as he did so. Bucky waited a moment.
“Has it gone?” Lacey asked.
“Yes, but we have to be quick. It’s a big one, and I mean big.”
“What are we going to do?” Aaron asked. “It has to have come in somewhere, which means there will be more within the area where it came from. We’re trapped. This crazy will be at one end of the corridor, the rest will beat the other.”
An idea hatched in Bucky’s mind. “You three wait here. I’ve got a plan.”
“Wait, man! You can’t just go out there by yourself!”
“Johnny just…” Bucky raised a palm to silence him. “I have an idea, okay. Just wait.” He opened the door with care and stepped out of the room in silence. The ambling shadow that had just passed continued on its journey into the darkness away from him. Bucky turned and ghosted the other way. The light was terrible, nothing more than a soft glow in truth, but he could see well enough to walk and that was all he needed. Every step he trod was done so with care and precision. The standard issue boots he’d been donated made a minute thud on the floor, but nothing to arouse an interest in him.
He paced along checking the open doors for movement. Nothing moved, nothing shuffled or shambled. He turned a corner, peering around first to ensure its safety. He wandered, silent as the grave, to the next turning where again he peered around the corner to check his path. There it was. Up ahead, the slumped body of the soldier appeared beneath the soft glow of light.
With a sense of urgency, Bucky picked up the pace, unaware of why he did so. He reached the fallen hero quicker than he expected. In the gloom, Bucky noticed the soldier’s nose and lower face saturated with blood. Beside his leg the assault rifle lay. Bucky’s knowledge of arms was terrible at best, but he recognised it as an SA80 from the war video games he also liked to play every now and then. He reached down, grabbing the rifle with one hand. It felt lighter than he expected, but in truth he didn’t know what to expect. The thought of King Arthur withdrawing Excalibur from the stone passed through his mind as he took the rifle in his hands. He peered down to the soldier. The body lay motionless. He half expected it to open its eyes, snarl and launch an attack upon him. He recalled Michael attacking Stewart outside the hardware shop, something that felt centuries ago now.
Playing it safe, Bucky rose the barrel to the soldier, lining a perfect headshot that would keep him down forever. His index finger rested against the trigger. Bucky stared toward the soldier. What was his story? Why was he running inside the corridor? Was he deserting? Was he running to help re-enforce the corridor from the other end? He took a deep breath. The more he peered at the body the less motivation he felt to pull the trigger. Was the soldier dead? What if he was unconscious and injured, not turned? What if the injury was not a bite? What if…
The soldier’s eyes opened. His pupils vanished behind milky eye whites. Blood trickled from one corner of the lids. He snarled. Bucky gasped, engaging the trigger. A light flashed as a bullet popped from the barrel and echoed between the walls. The soldier’s face exploded against the wall.
Bucky shook himself from the daze and headed back to his friends.
“What was that?” Johnny asked, stepping into the corridor as Bucky returned.
“This,” he replied, showing off the rifle.
“Holy crap, where did you get that?”
“From the soldier. Bastard came back to life, though, that’s when I pulled the trigger.”
A guttural, primitive roar echoed through the corridor.
“That’s the other one,” Johnny said.
“Yes. I’m going to put it down. Come on, we need to leave. Now.”
Johnny summoned the others.
“That was you?” Aaron asked Bucky as he emerged from their once comfortable room.
“Yup. Got me an equaliser.”
“Just be careful,” Lacey asked.
Bucky wandered at the front of the group, leading his friends through the corridor and toward the infected giant.
“You’re not going to get many chances at this,” Johnny whispered from behind.
“Just shut up,” Bucky retorted. Extra pressure to make the shot was all he needed right now. He stopped. “Listen,” he whispered. “You hear it?” The shuffling sound of the dragging leg emerged. “It’s close.”
They waited a safe distance from the turn. The infected emerged. Long, gangly arms swayed as the crazy rounded the corner before stopping.
“Oh my God,” Lacey whispered.
The monstrosity roared and moved towards them, its arms outstretched. Bucky lifted the rifle.
“Now, Bucky!” Aaron shouted.
Bucky squeezed the trigger. Light flashed intermittently as the bullets exploded from the barrel. The crazy jolted this way and that as the bullets struck, but still it moved forward.
“The head!” Aaron cried.
“I’m trying!”
Bucky lifted the sight to his eye and squeezed the trigger. Bullets pounded the crazy’s body, but still it continued. He lost control of the weapon with a prolonged press of the trigger. The rifle took a mind of its own, flailing around them, pumping ammunition into the walls. Lacey screamed. Bucky released the trigger as it flew from his hand and clattered somewhere in the darkness.
&nbs
p; “What now?” Johnny shouted as the giant bore down upon them.
“Get out of here!”
Bullets sounded around them. The crazy jolted before a precise shot entered its head and exploded from the back. The crazy dropped to its knees where it remained a few moments before falling to the side. They turned back to see Lacey clutching the weapon, still peering through its sight. The boys said nothing as she lowered the rifle down and hung it across her shoulder.
“Army cadets,” she said, almost smiling. Bucky watched as she wandered between the three of them to the head of the group. “Also, I’m are cord holder online for Call of Duty. You’re not the only one who succeeds at video games, Mr zombie slayer. Come on.” Lacey stepped over the body.
“Maybe you should hold on to that,” Bucky replied, knowing it would never return to his hands. Lacey turned, smiled and patted the rifle at her side.
“I think I’m falling in love,” Johnny whispered as she walked away. “You think I should tell her now or wait until the next time we’re in a difficult situation, like they do in the movies?”
Bucky grimaced. “Maybe we should just get a move on. That’s a different subject for a different day.”
The kids escaped the building into the chaos outside. Bodies littered the floor, both soldiers, civilians and infected. Captain Cardell lay in their path, gutted like a fish. Somehow the violence had become accepted by Bucky, as though he had become desensitized to the horrors of the new world. They found an exit over a metal gate that led through a small patch of wasteland uninhabited by the infected. Had they chosen the main gate, they’d have come face to face with Grout, the clown leader looking for them.
Along the road leading to the complex, a few crazies ambled, drawn by the noise of the ruckus happening at the football stadium. Lacey poised with the assault rifle, but hiding in the shadows served them well. The infected seemed too distracted by the noise to pay attention to their immediate surroundings. They stumbled by in packs, breaking into smaller groups now and then.