by Michael Carr
The previous night they had sketched an idea for a skull that was divergent from anything they had seen before. It was edgy but unfinished...using only the colors red, black and yellow. They were thinking cheap, but narly. Tats are expensive. The more colors and the more time they take, the more moolah…something of which they both had very little.
At the tattoo shop, Thomas was in the chair and Corey sat across from him looking at all the patterns and designs of a cryptic flair that layered the parlor's walls. The buzzing of the needle had a soothing and restful tone...Corey sank back in the seat and just watched the old, bald dude work on Thomas' chest. He was your stereotypical veteran. A dirty old man... he smelled, wore a sleeveless tee allowing his shoulder hair to protrude in all of its glory. He loved to talk. The old guy rambled on and on about once being a sailor and all the shit he had seen. How he had been successful with women of every nationality and was still giving discounts to the girls from the community college across the street.
Corey was an artist too...hell, he did most of the artwork for Thomas' tat. Moreover, like any young artist he was doing a lot of soul searching...what did he want to do with his unrefined talent? He took the opportunity to ask the seasoned artist, “What is the hardest part about doing a tat?”
The buzzing stopped and the look on Thomas' face suddenly changed to absolute horror as he looked up at the old guy. Thomas tries to back out of the chair. The old man abruptly stood up and turned towards Corey. His face had grown grotesque with large fiendish eyes and fangs that projected from his mouth...He spoke in a demonic tone, “We are just outside the target!”
Corey jumps...roughly awakened in the backseat to the sound of a message coming through a communicator. “I repeat…we are just outside the target.” Thomas confirms receiving the message, “Good! Remind the others of their assignments.” He then grabs the mirror again to view Corey. “I see you are awake. Sleep, one of the downfalls of being human. Such an opportunity you survivors provide.” Thomas and Malcolm chuckle in the front seat. Corey's temperament does not allow him to find this amusing...in fact he becomes a bit alarmed.
An impatient Corey wants answers, “Just be straight with me Thomas!”
Thomas looks out the window to his right, with some irritation, “Ultimately this is a revolution against those that did this to us…the ones that placed this infection in us and those who now stand in our way!”
Corey tries to put it together, “So this place where we are going, do they stand in your way?” Thomas had forgotten that Corey was so inquisitive, but answers nonetheless, “This is just a weapon pickup.”
Soon after, the convoy stops and parks just outside what…from a distance, looks to be a large crater. The army of undead exits their vehicles and moves to predetermined locations around the hole. Some actually move down into it. Corey gets out of the carrier and walks up to Thomas who is watching his chess pieces move into place. Thomas grins as he senses Corey's presence. He feels empowered and anticipates a checkmate.
Corey can now see into the opening...a large military base is hidden inside. Weapons of all kinds sit idle. “You are attacking them?!? Are you shitting me?”
Thomas gestures as if he is profiling the entire base with his hands. “They have the weapons we need to satisfy the bigger picture. It's their small sacrifice that will help lead to a better world.”
Corey steps in front of Thomas to gain his full attention. “I CANNOT be a part of this! My family is everything to me...but I will NOT take part in premeditated murder!” Corey begins to leave...
Thomas grabs his arm, “WAIT! It is NOT what it seems... GO...look closer.”
Corey looks at Thomas as if he has lost his mind. He then looks and sees some brush a little way down into the hole. He is careful and decides to move quietly towards it. Once he reaches the shrubbery, he ducks down. He sits for a minute to let things come together before he dares peer over. He looks back at Thomas who gives him a nod as if to go ahead and look. He slowly turns around and bends the brush just slightly. Corey cannot believe what he sees. It is an army regiment that is completely infected…another zombie military. Corey mutters under his breath “Holy Shit! He isn't lying!”
He cannot help but wonder what really happened to Thomas before the infection. At the same time he thinks no one would be this determined if it were not true. The undead are actually at war with one another. But, why? Yes, Thomas claims they want control of the lands, the weapons. It is all too much for one person to comprehend. Corey still struggles to wrap his head around it.
Thomas comes down to where Corey is stationed. “We wait until they are away from all the mobile weapons. When the majority of them hit the rack*, then we attack! My army will flank them from all sides.” [*Military Jargon for bunk]
Corey senses a hole in Thomas’ story, “I thought you said sleep was a human weakness?”
Thomas, “True, but they require some R&R.” Thomas grins at his own wit; but he is eager to get on with it, to gain his prize.
“There are hundreds of them!!! You'll lose many!”
Thomas looks through his binoculars to confirm, “Many? We are already dead Corey! Besides, they will be willing to follow once we have overtaken their leaders. This has been calculated, I'm not going into this blindly my friend.”
Corey replies without thinking, “Maybe you could just recruit them.” Corey then immediately thinks, “What am I saying?!?”
Thomas puts the binoculars down and looks at Corey, “Like the majority of the inhabitants of this country, diplomacy is also dead.” Thomas motions for Corey to go back and follows directly behind him. They both return to the vehicle and wait for the strike to be executed.
About an hour goes by and the military base alarm sounds...Thomas’ first wave of aggressors have made their way in. Thomas tells Corey to stay at the top of the crater just before he jumps down to join his ranks. After Corey sees that Thomas has made it most of the way down, he grabs the binoculars and lies at the opening to watch the battle. He is amazed to see zombies blast each other with every weapon the military had abandoned. Zombie debris flies everywhere as tank cannon fire blows holes through hordes of attackers only to be refilled with more infected warriors. Uzis rip through decayed flesh as if it was paper mache. Some of the soldiers have not eaten in days so they turn to dust when hit with repetitive fire.
The violence and gore is unending. Corey actually has trouble making out which army is which. He can only imagine the disgusting aroma that the dead are making as they obliterate one another. He then considers...maybe he should leave. “Thomas left me alone. If he wanted me harmed or had a plan for me, he would have left a guard.” He does not give it another thought. He is compelled to watch the carnage.
He begins to look for Thomas but the floating, dusty remains make it hard to see. The gunfire seems to be settling and some of Thomas' army appear to be returning and not in a retreating fashion. Corey stands up and looks around at the convoy for signs of victory but nothing appears different.
Then a thump is heard, Thomas prevails standing on a vehicle holding the head of a defeated zombie and wearing its officer jacket, “Gather our new weapons and fuel the vehicles!” Thomas then leans into his trophy and begins to gorge the zombie officer's head as Corey and his army look on. He consumes his defeated enemy as a sign of strength to his troops. Corey becomes disgusted and realizes, Thomas is more evil than he thought.
The guild leader walks up to Corey, dark blood with the consistency of syrup still stuck to his chin, “Victory! Be glad! We are able to move on to the next phase. Let’s roll my friend!”
Corey wipes his own chin with repugnance...he himself feels foul as he gets into the vehicle. Thomas sits in the truck in front of Corey admiring his new coat full of awards. Looking down at them with pride, as if he somehow just earned them all, Thomas says, “Corey, you are in deep thought. What's on your mind? Do you not approve of our supremacy?”
“I'm thinking nothing.”
> Thomas gestures to Malcolm the driver to turn, “You’re still wondering what it’s all about and what the Colony is...aren’t you?”
Corey sighs and leans back, “Now that you mention it…”
Thomas, still gloating from his conquest, looks back at Corey, “The Colony is a gathering of a new species - a strong mobile warrior.”
Corey looks away so no one can see him roll his eyes, “Damn, you realize you are referring to a super zombie. Don’t you?”
Thomas looks ahead, straightening his coat, “More like a mutation…a warrior with strength unseen in the infected. With their allegiance, I will satisfy my vendetta.” Now Corey regrets not retreating when he had the chance...he senses a real uneasiness with Thomas' intentions for him.
“Who oversees the Colony? Another guild?”
Thomas answers with what he knows, “Their classification is unknown. But we will soon find out, another reason we needed these weapons.”
The convoy continues on but now with less personnel carriers and more mobile weapons, such as tanks and a rocket launcher. Corey looks back at the line of weapons, six, total. He considers what type of army Thomas will face. If he has this kind of firepower and the enemy is unknown, then Thomas is clearly desperate and preparing for the worst. Corey wonders how much truth was in what Thomas told him.
The sun begins to break making an orange burst in the eastern sky as the army comes close to a city. A communication comes across from Thomas' other officer Jordan, “Sir, we are closing in on where you estimated the final target to be. Shall we stop 3 clicks from it, as originally ordered?”
Thomas picks up the communicator, “That will be adequate.”
The convoy rests in a semicircle. Thomas gets out of the vehicle and approaches Jordan who seems to be prepared to receive orders. “Remove any weapons from Corey. Heat the rod, it is time.” Jordan approaches the truck in which Malcolm and Corey are seated. As Jordan approaches, he nods to Malcolm who then exists the truck. They both open the back door and pull Corey out dragging him several yards.
Corey protests, “Hey! What do you think you are doing? Thomas! I could use a little of that protection you promised!” The officers crudely drag Corey to his destination. They remove his bag, hoodie and shirt tossing them into a pile just out of reach. Corey is on his knees, head down and his hands bound in front. Corey thinks, “How could I have been so stupid!?! Trust a damn decaying liar!”
Thomas approaches, looking at Corey with envy, “TROOPS!!! Every battle is won with sacrifices…and there is little to be desired in this world of chaos. Humanity has infected us and then hoped we would retreat so we can be easily forgotten. Now they pay for the sins of their actions. However, there is ONE…one that will help us achieve our revenge. He defeated your brother, one of my best warriors. I present to you the finest of our enemies. I give you Corey, the Zombie Killer. It will be his renouncement of human flesh that will provide me the needed essence I require to gain our next victory.”
A crowd of Zombie warriors surrounds them. Thomas walks up to the kneeling human. “Bring me the rod!! Corey, you cannot be truly appreciated and a part of this guild until you are marked.” Jordan hands Thomas the heated rod still steaming. “You will be part of the reason this guild controls what you see here. With this mark, you are no longer our enemy but part of our solution. Think of it as a baptism!”
Thomas then drives the rod into the left side of Corey's chest. Corey looks up screaming in agony. His jaw clenched as the smell of burnt flesh fills the air. Corey loses his breath, but struggles to retain consciousness and breathe. The rod is pulled away showing the resemblance of Thomas' tattoo, a skull with winged flames. Thomas gazes at Corey's chest with gratification, “When we made this emblem, Corey you said that we were brothers and we had a friendship unlike any other. You referred to it as our Mark of Amity!!”
Corey, chest searing with pain and breathing deeply, grits his teeth, gathers all his strength and hatred for Thomas. With his hands still bound in front of him, and knowing his life is at stake, Corey leaps into the air, kicking Thomas in the face and screams, “You will wish you never found me!” As Corey lands, he rolls to his bag and grabs the drill…still able to make a quick adjustment to the weapon.
Corey on his back looks up at Thomas standing over him...Corey reaches up pointing the drill at Thomas' head. Thomas, unafraid, gets down on one knee and closer to Corey and says with conviction, “You are the key. Your youth and endurance are envied. Your sacrifice...your brain will give me the necessary protein I require to conquer. Don't you realize you and I will inflict the punishment to those that took our lives from us?”
With the end of the drill now pressed against Thomas' head. “Come on Corey, a drill...Seriously?”
Corey pulls the trigger and a nail projects into Thomas' head. Thomas drops face down. “Yeah! Seriously!” Corey yells with a sense of reward.
The circle of zombies close in on him...Corey takes quick aim with his drill and yelling to the top of his lungs, “Die AGAIN, you assholes!!!” commences firing eradicating the grunts coming at him.
He looks up to see the rest of the soldiers fleeing, leaving Malcolm and Jordan standing to his side. Corey cannot help himself, directing his anger to the two officers, “What??...You two waiting for an invite to get your asses kicked?”
Chapter Two
Rise
Malcolm and Jordan step back and report, “The troops have retreated... you have killed their master. Our orders are to complete the mission.”
Corey, worn out, but obviously in charge at this point declares, “Listen up! This is what is going to happen. You will show me the Colony location and tell me what you know about my family. In turn, I will allow you to continue your mission, but without the weapons….those are mine!” What Corey had in mind for the weapons, he had no idea…he just felt entitled to them. “Should we ever cross paths again, I will kill you!”
Solidifying this understanding with the two zombie officers, Corey’s self-esteem rises. He has had quite a showing. He motions to the officers, “Get moving!”
Corey carefully dons his shirt trying to minimize its contact with his wound. Malcolm goes to Thomas’ body and removes the officer jacket, a trophy he had his eye on ever since the weapon pickup. As he removes the jacket, he thinks of the way he would lead now given the chance. He always felt he was more skilled but Thomas was the ‘take charge’ kind of individual that quickly gained the respect of his subordinates. Malcolm realizes he must be more persuasive if he is to finish the plan he coordinated and for which Thomas gladly took credit. Malcolm felt the jacket was justly his, seeing he was the tactician of the faction. As he buttons up the well-tailored jacket, he realizes it is a perfect fit and instantly feels empowered by the merit each badge boasts. He was very much like Thomas in that way.
Jordan does not interrupt Malcolm. He wants Corey gone, the campaign cannot continue with him present. So Jordan points towards the city, offering direction. “The Capitol building, that one resembling the structure seen on the back of a dollar bill, is where Thomas believed the Colony to be. You may find your family there.” Corey looks in the direction the officer is pointing. He sees the structure that once was a center for making laws and decisions by which citizens were to abide. Presently it is no more than a deserted monument to humanity’s governing power. Democracy had once rung from the Capitol steps that are now vandalized by large termite mounds.
Corey senses a deception and realizes he cannot trust anything Malcolm and Jordan tell him. Unfortunately, he has more questions now from seeing the building first hand. “What the Hell is really going on?”
Now empowered, he commands direction, “Get out of here and FAST or there will be hell to pay! You may want to take a good look at your leader as you leave and ask yourself... is today my day to die?” Corey picks up his belongings plus a few guns and shoves them into his bag. Malcolm and Jordan hesitate.
Corey screams, “It’s now or never!”
The officers leave on foot.
“Speed it up!’ Corey impatiently waits until they are well out of site and takes off for the city.
Once out of Corey’s site, Jordan asks Malcolm, “Now what?”
“Hand me the binoculars.” Jordan relinquishes the viewing device. Malcolm adds, “We first must scout the number of Zlys.” [pronounced zies]
Jordan has doubts, “We know nothing about them...only the stories.”
Malcolm stops viewing the Capitol and looks at Jordan with certainty, “We will be influential…they will break. With the Zlys under our control, we will eliminate Corey and continue the mission.”
Jordan still has further questions, “What about the weapons?”
Malcolm brings the binoculars back to his marble white eyes, “Leave them. Let Corey think they are his for now. Besides I see the deserters, time to re-employ them.”
After reaching the city, Corey becomes aware of the emptiness there. Looking around he sees that the streets and sidewalks are not immune to the overgrowth of weeds and vines. He sometimes has to move the buildup of wild vegetation to continue forward. Though the area is full of plant life, human life is nowhere to be found. The streets are quiet and not in shambles like the previous city Corey had inhabited. This particular city has eeriness, an uncomfortable calm.
Suddenly, a loud bellowing pierces the quiet. Without hesitation, he runs and ducks behind a large, rusty blue mailbox. As he takes cover, he tries to determine if his gun’s safety is on or off by squeezing the trigger slightly to see if it will give. The tension on the trigger adds to the aggravation of the branding. He wants to touch it, but is afraid that would make things worse. Looking at his chest, he sees that his shirt has stuck to the branding. Ironically, the blood from the brand is now visible on the shirt in the pattern of Amity…friendship. As he inspects his wound, he hears the sound again...talking this time. Corey does not want to make any sudden moves. He cannot be sure anymore, now that he knows the undead can talk too. He has no choice but to let the sound come to him.