Greg and the other living dead soldiers poured out of the trees and a full-fledged battle ensued. Patricia ran through the group of humans, wielding her blade, with each swing delivering a deathblow to the human at the receiving end. The fight only lasted a few minutes, as most of the livings lay mangled on the blood soaked ground. Arms, legs, and intestines littered the clearing as the few people still alive tried to crawl away. The undead lady pirate walked up to the slow moving foes, grabbed arms and legs and bit into them, taking out huge chunks of flesh and muscle.
Greg warned her, "You shouldn't do that. You don't know if they have the fire inside their bodies."
"I don't care." Patricia replied with blood pouring down the sides of her mouth.
Several of the dead bodies slowly stood from the ground, some missing arms, some with intestines spilling out of their midsections. They scanned the area with confused expressions and asked, "Where am I?"
"Whose body is this?"
"How did I get here?"
"We should get back. There are military patrols in this area. Our numbers are small and we would not fair well if surrounded." Greg said, as he circled his hand indicating to his soldiers that, he wanted them to round up the new arrivals.
Patricia stared into the trees leading away from the city. "You go back. I have vengeance which needs to be satisfied." She said as she ran off into the trees.
* * *
Prometheus sat on top of a large section of concrete which used to be a floor to one of the skyscrapers, which once proudly rose from the ground before the uprising. He took in the sight of the rising sun turning the smoke filled sky deep red. He wondered if the air felt cool or if it was humid and warm.
In the distance, he saw a lone figure walk toward him. As the light slowly increased, and the distance decreased, he saw it take the form of Patricia. He noticed the hole in her stomach from the pike and her dress soaked in fresh blood. Dried blood covered every inch of her skin and hair, along with her sword and scabbard. She walked up and stopped in front of the Athenian without saying a word. Prometheus scanned her entire body and broke the silence. "How did your vengeance go? How many descendents did you kill? You look as though you actually took a bath in blood."
"It had to be hundreds of livings. I must have fed on all the remaining humans who did not have the fire."
"Did you find peace with all this killing?"
Patricia glanced down at the hands and tried to rub the dried blood off. "No, I do not think that will ever happen in this macabre world. Maybe the next life will hold some happiness for me."
She turned up and looked at the Greek man. His eyes opened wide as he said, "My sister, your eyes have turned blue. You are ready to pass along your gift given to you by the gods. Perhaps your next life will arrive sooner than expected."
She picked up a piece of scrap metal and polished it with the only dry part of her dress. Gazing at her reflection she replied, "I no longer care about passing this needed string of life to the living. A cure for the Omega plague will not be enough to save them at this point. I feel we are witness to the end of our world."
Behind the lady pirate, in the distance, Prometheus saw new arrivals stagger through the rubble. With his attention toward the distant undead, he said, "It looks like your converts have followed you home."
She turned her head and quickly glanced at her victims. "Yes, the humans who I fed on trailed behind me all night. I think many are ancients who will need to be given lessons to educate them on their place in this netherworld."
Chapter 24
Prometheus lit candles placed in crevices throughout the tunnel. The voices of the night's scavenging party echoed from the far end in the shadows. He turned in the opposite direction and cast his voice into the darkness where the candle flames did not reach. "My good sister, Salsa, it sounds like they have returned from their night of hunting."
Salsa emerged from the shadows into the flickering light, which reflected off her bright green eyes. She walked across the muddy ground with the grace of royalty wearing a blue velvet Victorian era gown, leather wrist cuffs, and a black derby with welding goggles around the brim. The sword belt around her waist also contained two daggers and a 9mm Colt handgun.
Patricia arrived first and dumped her numerous swords, daggers and other primitive weapons on the map table. Her waitress uniform had turned dark brown from all the dried blood permeated into the fabric. The rest of the night's soldiers staggered in behind her. Salsa asked, "Did you have any luck finding fresh meat?"
Patricia glanced back at her people and said, "You can see for yourself."
Greg and General Brown carried into the light a human man in his mid thirties, with tattered clothing and fresh blood showing through some of the tears in his shirt. His arms were tied to a wooden pike across his shoulders giving him a crucified appearance. He let out the usual evil hissing and moans with anger expressed on his face. They hung the ends of the pike on two protruding bricks on the wall of the tunnel, which kept his feet inches off the ground. Salsa listened to the sounds from his mouth and explained, "Oh, he's mad at us. He's calling us all kinds of names." She tilted toward General Brown. "He's even questioning your gender."
Cathy moved her way through the crowd which had gathered around the man. She lowered her welding goggles from her eyes and took off the snowboarding helmet, which showed signs of battle scars. Sliding off her leather bomber jacket, she stood in front of the prisoner and said, "Do you want me to do my thing with this guy?"
Salsa replied with a simple nod.
The former dominatrix grabbed one of Patricia's daggers from the table. She placed the tip in the center of the man's armpit pressing hard enough to create a dent in his skin, but not draw blood. His demon sounds continued to spill from his mouth. Salsa translated, "He's still name calling. I think you need to take him from being mad to scared."
Cathy relocated the blade from under his arm to just below his right eye. Instead of talking, the human went silent.
"There you go." Salsa said. "I think we have his attention now."
Cathy set the dagger down on the table and said, "This always confuses them." She reached out and fluttered her fingertips up and down his side to tickle him. His moaning took on a tone of laughter. As she continued with no hesitation, his face turned red and he gasped to take in a breath.
"Stop." Salsa said as she raised her hand. "I think this is working."
In-between breaths, the human blurted out with more hissing and groaning sounds. Salsa filled in the gaps. "The insults have changed from the marital status of our parents to us being some kind of crazy freaks."
Cathy glanced around the room and pointed to one of the undead soldiers. "You, I need your help. Grab his leg, take his shoe off, and hold his foot up."
The assistant followed her instructions. She scanned the weapons set on the map table. Running her hand over the various blades and maces, she picked up a club made from the thin end of a baseball bat. Staring the prisoner in the eye, she pounded the bottom of his foot with one quick blow. The cracking sound came from his bone breaking and not from the bat. The ear-piercing screech that emanated out of his mouth did not need a translation. It was obvious that he screamed out in pain. Cathy brought the bat down on the top of his foot with it ending in another crack of bones. As she wound up for another swing, Salsa raised her hand and called out, "Stop"
She studied his face as she listened to his rant. "He stopped calling us names and moved on to threatening us." She continued to translate. "He's talking about the vaccine and how they are going to use it to wipe us out. They are going to start injecting us directly." She moved closer to the human. "The army has started operation Blow Dart in other parts of the country and has cleared re-ans from entire cities. He mumbled something about gassing us."
Salsa turned to the other living dead. Prometheus explained, "If we are to finish our mission to pass along our strings of life to the descendants, we must get our sister to the state of b
lue eyes, so we can communicate with them and end this war."
The Chosen One turned back to their prisoner and said, "I guess, I can start down that road with this guy here and put him out of his misery."
As she reached out to grab his arm, Midnight stepped up and stopped her. "Wait, I think he has the fire inside him. It doesn't look the same though." She studied the man who continued to groan and hiss. "This is a different kind of darkness. Maybe he has the Omega Plague."
Salsa shrugged her shoulders. "The Omega virus isn't going to hurt me"
With her mouth inches from taking a bite out the doomed victim, Prometheus stopped her. "Wait. Perhaps it would be better for me to test your food for poison before my sister takes her first bite."
She handed the arm over the Greek man, and she said, "Be my guest."
Prometheus took a bite out of the man's arm. The prisoner screamed even louder. With blood dripping down the sides of his mouth, the ancient man nodded his head to give the approval. As Salsa leaned down to take a bite, Prometheus fell to the ground screaming.
He yelled, "It burns! It feels like a fire is trying to escape from inside my body."
Staring up at the re-ans, who were helpless to assist him, his vision changed. The faces of his friends dissolved into gray decayed skin. Open wounds, which he had never seen before, appeared across their bodies, as did areas of missing flesh exposing bones and dried muscle and tendons. He saw Patricia lift her sword and bring it down on his throat.
* * *
Daniel sat in front of the fire under a night sky watching a group of civilians try to figure out how to set up their military issue tent in the dark. Drinking moonshine from his metal coffee mug, he saw several off duty soldiers standing on the edge of the light laughing and drinking. The military men, all in their early twenties, ventured outside the military compound and joined the civilians so they could drink. Pink sat down next to the scientist, pointed to his cup and said, "We need that for fuel. You can get in a lot of trouble if you're caught drinking it."
Dr. Cronsworth continued to watch the young soldiers. "You know I saw a group of families on their way to Arizona. They had kids with them that couldn't have been more than 5 or 6."
Pink gazed into the fire. "They were probably going to the Phoenix compound. I hear they built thirty-foot walls around the entire square mile, just like an old castle. It sounds like a safe place for families."
"Yeah, but that wasn't my point. They had young children with them."
"I think that's why they are called families."
"But, they were 6 years old. They were born after the uprising." He motioned his hand in a circle toward the forest. "This is the only world they know." He turned to Pink. "They've never slept in a bed. They've never watched television, seen a movie or used an indoor bathroom. They've probably never heard the term, indoor plumbing. For them, they will grow up in the futuristic world equivalent of tenth century."
Pink grabbed the mug full of booze from his hands and took a sip. "Nah, when this is all over, we'll get our world back. Sure, it will take a decade or more to rebuild it all. But, one day we'll be sitting on our front porch telling our grandkids stories about the uprising just like our elders talked about what life was like during the war."
Daniel took the moonshine back and gulped some down. "I don't know if that day will ever happen."
"Sure it will."
"It would be nice to see, but our population has a long way to go before we could recover. If you do the math, this looks like it might be our last stand. We're about to join the dinosaurs on the list of former tenants of this planet."
"I know it looks bad now, but your anti-virus is working. It should only take another year or so and the re-ans will only be a memory."
"As will I."
Pink took the mug back with a wrinkled brow of puzzlement. "What are you talking about?" She took a sip of moonshine.
"If the re-ans don't get us, the Omega virus will."
"I'm sure you and your colleagues will find a cure for the Omega." The crack of a branch from the darkness beyond the light caught her attention briefly. "Hell, you found a cure for zombies. I'd imagine any disease after that would be child's play."
The scientist stared at the fire with a blank emotionless face. "I've had a scratchy throat for a couple of days with a slight fever."
"So you can still get the flu even during a zombie apocalypse."
"I've had three nose bleeds today and some bleeding out of my ears. I have the early stages Omega. I won't see the new world. I won't see next week."
Pink stared at the mug of moonshine they had been sharing. "Maybe you could have started our conversation with this information before I started drinking your hooch."
He glanced at the mug in her hand. "The virus can't live in alcohol. You can only get infected from direct contact with your blood." Daniel held up his arm to reveal a small scratch near his elbow. "I got this last week climbing through what used to be Mercy Hospital west of here. It should have healed up by now." He placed his finger next to the wound. "See this swelling, that's the virus multiplying and growing."
"You don't know for sure if you're infected. We live in a dirty world. I'm sure some antibiotics should clear that up. With your connections, you should be able to get all the drugs you need."
"I've been on antibiotics for a few days. It's the Omega."
A raven landed on a rock near the family setting up the tent. The sight sent a cold rush of fear through the scientist. Pink stood up and whistled to get the attention of the young soldiers. They turned toward her and she pointed to the bird.
Re-ans armed with swords and battle-axes quickly emerged from the trees. The soldiers disappeared under the wave of undead with only their screams to indicate they were still alive. The demons seized the family members and dragged them into the darkness of the forest. Their screams slowly filtered off in the distance.
Pink grabbed a burning log from the fire, held it out toward the advancing dead and threw the moonshine through the flames at the zombies. "Come on, this way!" She said to Daniel as she waved her arm toward the compound and ran off.
A re-an wearing a leather kilt and carrying a samurai sword grabbed the scientist's arm and pulled him to the ground. The living dead pressed the tip of his sword into the Daniel's chest to keep him pinned down. He watched as Pink disappeared into the darkness, leaving him alone with the devils.
A female undead, with black stringy hair and dried blood around her rotted lips, walked up and appeared to stop the kilt wearing attacker from running his sword through the human's body. She stared at Cronsworth with her hazed white eyes. Her face and dried gray skin showed years of deterioration with muscle, bone and tendons showing through tears and holes in her body. She leaned closer with her dirt encrusted hair hanging down, while she moaned and screeched to the others in her group.
Another woman re-an approached, as the battle with the humans continued behind them. She wore a cutlass on her hip and a waitress uniform, which had turned dark brown from all the dried blood. The tension and fear became too much for Daniel to handle. "Do it! Get it over with! I knew this day would come. Finish me!" He called out to the kilt-wearing zombie with the sword. "I want to leave this world."
After he blurted out those words, his fear diminished. He knew the end had come and there was nothing left to cause him any fear.
The female living dead with the blue hazed eyes and cutlass pressed her hand on his chest and brought her face within inches of his. With her free hand, she pulled his mouth open and let her saliva drip into his mouth. He felt her cold bodily fluid slide down his throat. His immediate thought was not to accept it, but his reflexes kicked in and he swallowed the dead woman's spit.
An explosion and a flash of light in the trees indicated the military had arrived. The re-ans disappeared back into the darkness of the trees as quickly as they arrived. Daniel sat up and saw soldiers armed with battle swords and shotguns storm into the light of the fi
re. They attended to the remains of the young soldiers on the ground. Pink pushed her way from between two of the soldiers and ran to the aid of her friend.
Chapter 25
Prometheus opened his eyes and saw nothing in the blackness of his surroundings. He sat up and felt the wet cold ground with his fingertips. Perhaps, I have finally left the future world and moved to a life with the gods. He ran his hands down his body. This body feels fit. These clothes do not feel to be in a state of decay. Standing, he felt his way through the darkness along the solid brick wall He called out, "Is anyone there?"
A pinpoint of light appeared in the distance. It grew in size as it moved closer. The sound of footsteps grew in volume and echoed off the walls. Transforming from a blur, the light became a lantern carried by a woman. The Greek man called out to the person, "Who approaches me and from where do you hail?"
The woman with the lantern stopped while she replied, "Prometheus? Is that you?" She continued walking until her face became visible.
"Patricia," he responded, "I see I have returned to the future world once again. How long have I been absent?"
The dead lady pirate, wearing thick leather gauntlets, tall black motorcycle boots, and welding goggles draped around her neck, set the lantern down and wrapped her hands around her old friend. "Prometheus, it is so good to have you back. There have been many changes in this world since we last spoke some six months ago."
They released their hug and she picked up her light. Prometheus glanced down at his new body, but could only see the green clothes issued by the military to civilians. "Without a reflection glass, I do not know what kind of body I occupy. Would you please describe how I look?"
Patricia scanned him in the dim light and said, "You are in the body of a young man, maybe late twenties, with shoulder length dark hair. The clothes would indicate he was from one of the compounds protected by the soldiers."
"Did he die from the Omega plague?"
The Village of Dead Souls: A Zombie Novel Page 21