by Blake Brown
“I can’t fushing see!” The soldier yelled in a mushy, garbled mess through broken teeth, a pellet riddled tongue, a blood-filled mouth, and ripped apart cheeks and lips.
“For fucks sake! Somebody put him out of his misery already!” The red headed leader yelled. One of the other guardsmen brought up his M4 and aimed it at the side of the suffering man’s head, just as the injured soldier released his hands from the gore that was once his face and tried to protest. The soldier shot him through his right temple, sending his corpse flopping to the ground. “Alright, all you correctional officers line up against this wall right here.” The leader ordered, moving on nonchalantly, like one of his men wasn’t just violently killed. The remaining guards stumbled to the wall, still half blind and tripping over themselves, holding their heads in agony. “Who’s in charge here?”
“I am.” The oldest one among them spoke up, his name was McGowan. He was tall, in his mid-sixties, had an almost boyish haircut with salt and pepper colored hair, and had a bushy, white moustache. McGowan was a good man, he wouldn’t take shit from any inmate or fellow guard, but if you showed him respect, he would show you the same, no matter who you were. He basically ran the place before shit hit the fan, and Jason had always liked him.
“How long you been working here?”
“Almost thirty years.” McGowan replied, standing tall and broad, not letting the smaller man or his armed men intimidate him.
“Hmm, so it stands to reason you know this place pretty well then?”
“Who’s asking?”
“Oh, how rude of me, my name’s Master Sergeant Riley, pleased to meet you.”
“Not much of a pleasure for me.”
Riley smirked and chose to ignore the retort. “Are these all the remaining guards and prisoners?”
“Yes.” McGowan said with a grimace, getting frustrated with the other man.
The Master Sergeant turned and slowly walked back to the line of his two dozen men who were all pointing their rifles at the lined-up guards. “Alright, we’ll keep him, kill the rest.” He commanded in a monotoned voice. McGowan opened his mouth to object, but the soldiers were too quick, immediately unloading rounds into the other four officers. Blood erupted from their bodies as they went down, splattering all over McGowan, and when the firing stopped, Jason could feel the throbbing of his temporarily deaf ears. The gunshots echoed throughout the concrete building as McGowan stared at the dead guards, shock evident on his slack jawed face. “Staff Sergeant Peterson take our new friend here to wherever you open the cells. The rest of you, get in position to kill these degenerates if any of them make a move.” Riley ordered, and his men followed his directions without question.
As McGowan and Peterson, a tall, slender, and cruel looking middle-aged man, made their way to the control booth, the rest of the men spread out on the first floor and second floor catwalk, making sure the prisoners were cut off in every direction. As the cells opened and all the prisoners began to slowly step out, including Jason, Riley started to address the inmates. “So, here’s the deal fellas, ya’ll are under new management. As you may have heard, my name is Master Sergeant Riley and you are all now enlisted under my command. At first, you’ll still essentially be prisoners, and if you disobey my orders you will die, or worse. Eventually however, you’ll be able to work your way up the ranks and become one my soldiers, just like these men here. Now, does anyone object to that?”
“Yo, who the fuck do you think you are?! This is our house motherfuc-.” One of the inmates on the first floor that Jason didn’t recognize blurted out. Riley quickly pulled up his M4 and unloaded a volley of shots into the man. The man and his cellmate behind him dropped to the ground, the former was dead, while the ladder was holding two ragged, bloody bullet wounds in his gut and clenching his teeth in agony on the ground.
“Why the fuck did you shoot me? I didn’t say shit man.”
“Sorry buddy, friendly fire.” Riley replied as he aimed the rifle at the cellmate’s head and put him down with one, quick shot. “Anyone else?” He waited a few moments as not a single person spoke out. “Good, looks like we can move on to assignments and securing this place.” Riley finished right as McGowan and Peterson returned to the large group.
“Excuse me, sir?” A buff, ex-steroid using inmate with a shaved, bald head that was covered in tattoos of eagles and swastikas spoke out. Jason knew him as Knuckles, though not a shot caller, he was a pretty well-known soldier in the Aryan brotherhood.
“Yes?” Riley responded, turning back around to face the Nazi scumbag.
“What do you plan on doing with this nark piece of shit? If you don’t mind me asking.” Knuckles asked respectfully, pointing at McGowan. A lot of the guards were on the Aryan payroll, McGowan wasn’t one of them. He played by the books, so the real criminals in here despised him.
“I was planning on keeping him around, I think he could be useful. Do you disagree?”
“No sir, I wouldn’t disagree with you, but I know this man, and from what I’ve learned about you today, he’s going to be nothing but trouble for you. Some of us here, myself included, would have no problem slaughtering this pig for you right here and now.”
“Do any of the rest of you feel this way?” A few nods and grumbles of support for Knuckles rang out throughout the crowd of inmates. Riley glanced between Knuckles and McGowan a few times before speaking again. “Alright, in the world before, men needed to suppress their savage nature to function in society, and the fact that you’re in here means you probably couldn't. Which, in this new world of ours that’s developing, is why some of you could make very useful soldiers. So, I tell you what, if you want to kill him, then you can, but no weapons, you can’t be trusted with those yet. Just a straight bare-knuckle fight to the death. Winner earns a place in my army right off the bat, no dues to be paid. Sound fair?”
“Yes sir.” Knuckles said, stepping towards the soldiers and McGowan as he cracked his neck back and forth with his fists. Peterson pushed the old guard forward as the rest of the soldiers and inmates began to make a circle around the two. McGowan raised his fists like an old-timey boxer getting ready to fight. Jason was sure that back in the day the man could have handled himself, but he was old now, and Knuckles was twice his size. Knuckles wasn’t going to just box, he was going to beat McGowan to death.
Jason walked into the circle, cutting off Knuckles just as he began to approach the old CO. “What the fuck you think you’re doing biker boy?”
“You’re not going to fucking touch him.” Jason stated with a coldness in him that he hadn’t harnessed in a long time.
“Oh yeah? You going to stop me? You’re almost as old and weak as he is.” Knuckles let out a chuckle, followed by a few laughs and boos from the crowd of inmates.
“How about new rules, you two fight. If my Aryan brother here wins, then both you and McGowan die. If you win, mister noble guardian, McGowan and yourself will both become soldiers in my army. Earning protection from any fellow inmates that might want to harm either of you.” Riley said, putting on a performance, more for his own amusement than anyone else’s. Jason could tell this man loved violence and watching people die.
“Fine with me, as long as I get to kill someone and McGowan dies, I’ll go to bed happy tonight.” Knuckles called out. Jason turned back to Riley and nodded, then waved his attacker on. He was much older and smaller than Knuckles, if he was going to win; he had to fight smart, be defensive, be fast, and get dirty.
Knuckles wasted no time and charged Jason with his head down, either trying to take him to the ground or slam him into the wall. Jason side stepped him at the last moment and threw a right cross, catching Knuckles in the side of his jaw before getting a few feet of distance between them. “Damn old man, you’re spryer than I thought.” Knuckles said as he wiped a little blood from his mouth and approached Jason again, this time more cautiously. Jason started to back away,
trying to find a chance to strike, but Knuckles was being patient and keeping his guard up. Jason threw out a kick, using the distance between the two of them to his advantage and hitting the Aryan brute in his outer, left thigh. Knuckles absorbed the blow like it was nothing and took one, huge stride forward, upper cutting Jason in his un-flexed stomach. The blow knocked the wind out of him and made him want to throw up. Knuckles then threw a right hook into Jason’s Kidney, causing his legs to almost buckle from the pain. Knuckles then slammed his massive fist into the left side of Jason’s head, making him stumble a few feet to the side.
Jason’s vision began to close in, and it took everything he had to not fall down and lose consciousness right then and there. Knuckles walked towards Jason with a huge grin on his face. He’s getting cocky, good. Jason turned and front kicked Knuckles’ left knee, buckling it inward, before throwing his own knee up and into Knuckles’ mouth. Blood erupted out of his mouth as Knuckles tried to regain his footing, and Jason hammered his fist into Knuckles’ kidney. Knuckles threw back an elbow, catching Jason’s collarbone, managing to get a few feet of distance from his attacker. Knuckles spat, a wad of blood and tooth bits exiting his mouth and wetly splatting to the floor. He’s hurt, I have to keep the pressure on. Jason rushed forward just as Knuckles turned around and planted his foot into Jason's chest, cracking part of his ribcage and sending him flying back into the closest wall. Stupid, I let my guard down. Knuckles ran at Jason and slammed his shoulder into the other man’s solar plexus, smashing him into the wall again. Jason’s spine felt an electric surge of pain as it connected with the concrete wall and Knuckles began to throw hard punches into both of Jason’s sides, moving back and forth, not allowing him to catch his breath. Jason practically hugged Knuckles, getting him in an over under clinch. He wrapped one of his legs behind the big Aryan’s, and then used his body weight and position to slam Knuckles to the ground. Jason slammed his forehead into his opponent’s face once they fell, breaking his nose and splattering blood into both of their eyes. He thrust his head forward again, the second blow catching one of Knuckles’ broken teeth and slicing open Jason’s forehead, distracting him for a split second. Knuckles’ face shot forward, and his jagged, broken teeth bit into Jason’s chest, ripping a piece of flesh away.
“You fucking pussy!” Jason called out in pain as he bit into Knuckles’ shoulder out of spite and clenched his jaw down hard on the bigger man’s deltoid. Knuckles let out a yip and kneed Jason in his genitals, releasing his bite and making a bit of bloody spittle spray from his mouth. Knuckles then bucked up with his hips, causing Jason to lose his top position, as he flipped him over so that he was now underneath the larger man. Knuckles grabbed Jason’s head with both hands and slammed it against the concrete floor. Jason’s vision blurred again, and he knew, if he took another one of those, he was dead. Jason bucked and thrashed around to delay the next hit, reaching up and clenching Knuckles’ left ear before yanking down as hard as he could. He could hear the flesh rip as the Aryan’s ear was torn from the side of his head. The ear dangled from him, barely still attached by a small piece of flesh, and blood began to pour down the big man’s neck and shoulder. Knuckles squealed and leapt to his feet, beginning to run around, holding the side of his head in intense pain. Jason slowly and painfully got back to his feet, advancing towards the Aryan. As he got close, Knuckles threw a right hook, scraping against Jason’s left cheek. The blow didn’t faze him however, he knew he had won. Jason threw a right hook back, connecting with the red, wet patch where Knuckles’ ear once was. The big man cried out again as the exposed nerve endings were struck, and Jason rushed him, slamming him up against a set of cell bars. He then grabbed Knuckles’ face with both hands while the big man pointlessly threw punches into Jason’s sides that he wasn’t even registering and slammed his head into the bars. Jason then dug his thumbs into the dazed Knuckles’ eyes, deep enough for blood to start leaking out, and then pulled outwards, ripping his eyeballs open. Blood poured down the big man’s face as he screamed in agony and terror. Jason backed away as the Aryan cried with tears of blood and began to swing wildly, no longer being able to see his attacker.
“My fucking eyes!” Knuckles wept as he tried to blindly defend attacks that were no longer coming.
Jason tried to catch his raspy breath as he held his cracked ribs with one hand. “Fight’s over, he lost.” He called out to Riley who was still watching both men intensely. Knuckles stopped swinging his fists around, being too tired and realizing Jason was no longer attacking him.
“Not until he’s dead. That was the deal.” Riley called back coldly. Jason sighed and shook his head, taking in painful, slow breaths before advancing back towards Knuckles. Hearing the sergeant, the big man began to weep even louder, and started stumbling backwards, trying to get away from the direction of the other two voices. Knuckles tripped and landed hard on his rear before slowly attempting to get back to his feet. Jason took the chance to get behind him before he could get back up and stomped down hard on the back of his right leg. Knuckles collapsed to his knees from the blow, and Jason wrapped his arm around the big man’s throat. Jason squeezed as tight as he could, and at first, the big man’s hands were pulling at his arms so aggressively that he thought Knuckles would break free, but as his oxygen depleted, so did his strength, and his body started giving in as he got closer to losing consciousness. Before Knuckles was fully gone, Jason pulled up and to the side forcefully, the man’s limp neck snapping with a loud, cracking, crunch. Jason dropped the huge, limp body to the floor.
“Well done! Honestly my money was on the Aryan, aren’t you a surprise.” Riley called out with a few claps of his hands. “If anyone touches this man or the CO here, they will die. He’s earned their protection. You two have the rest of the day off, you’ve earned it. We’ll talk about your new assignments tomorrow."
McGowan walked over and put an arm around Jason, helping him walk as the adrenaline wore off and the intense pain from his injuries started to kick in. “Come on, let’s get you to the break room so you can rest, and I can patch you up. I appreciate you having my back.” McGowan said as he ushered Jason away from the large crowd, the crowd that was now taking orders from Riley.
CHAPTER 4
At first, everything seemed the same as it had been a few weeks before as Bryce pulled onto the winding, mountain-side highway that led to Forest Hill. That is until he rounded a bend in the road and nearly crashed into an abandoned, white Camry. When he slowed to get around the car, he could see blood smears on the inside of the windshield, and what appeared to be a corpse slouched onto the passenger side dashboard. So, there are more of those things.
As he continued down the highway, he started to see more and more abandoned vehicles, most of them looking unscathed. He didn’t see any more corpses however, until he slowly maneuvered around the burning wreck of an SUV that had smashed into the side of the mountain. He could see the charred, skeletal husk of a person in the driver’s seat, still smoking from the fire that had crisped the corpse’s flesh and bones. If it’s still burning, then this must have happened recently.
As he rounded another bend, he could see a brown skinned man with short, black hair waving his arms over his head up the road, blocking his advance. The man was giving Bryce no options other than to stop, or run him over, so he chose the former. He stopped a few dozen feet away and wrapped his hand around his rifle, watching the man as he approached. The man’s white tee shirt was drenched in sweat and covered in brown dirt as well as small blotches of dried blood. The sunlight reflected off the small, diamond studs in his ear lobes and he had a friendly, relieved smile on his face that seemed unnatural, like he wasn’t accustomed to using the facial expression. Bryce rolled down the window half way as the man reached him, and said, “You alright man? You look pretty beat up.”
“Get out of the fucking car!” The man barked as he pulled a silver, snub-nosed 38. special revolver from behind his back and pointed it a
t Bryce’s head, dropping the fake smile as he did so.
“There’s no need for that. If you need a ride, I’ll take you wherever you need to go.” Bryce said.
“You think this is a fucking negotiation?” The man aggressively pulled at the locked door handle.
If only the gun was a little closer, I could grab it while he’s distracted. “I’m not getting out of the car. If you don't want a ride, then back the fuck off.”
The man cocked back the hammer of the revolver and leaned in closer. “The only reason I haven’t blown you’re brains out yet, is because I don’t want you stinking up my new ride. Last chance motherfucker.”
Bryce noticed a female infected person crawling up the embankment behind the man. This is my chance. “Alright, alright, I’m getting out.” He slowly unclipped his seatbelt and put the explorer in park. The woman started towards the man, and he could hear her coming. He turned around and went to take aim, but Bryce threw the door open before he could get a shot off, slamming it into his back and launching him forward into the creature’s embrace. She threw herself into him, knocking him into the side of the ford, and closing the driver’s side door, almost catching Bryce’s hand in the door frame.
She dug her teeth into the man’s left trapezius muscle, causing him to scream as blood soaked his white t-shirt. The man’s arm was stuck inside the window, and as she bit down, he squeezed the trigger, firing off a shot that barely missed Bryce’s neck before bursting through the windshield. He tried desperately to free his arm so that he could shoot the woman, but before he could get it out, Bryce grabbed his wrist and forearm and began smashing it against the wheel. The horn blared with every blow and Bryce could see more deformed attackers approaching from both directions of the highway. Just as the man’s grip gave out and the revolver dropped down by the gas and brake pedals, Bryce put the car in drive and slammed on the gas, sending the man and the infected woman on top of him sprawling to the ground.