Zombie Fallout 16

by Mark Tufo

  Humans were a savage entity, and he had vowed that if given the chance, each one he came across would pay for all the injustices he had suffered. He’d nearly despaired that he would ever be given the opportunity, until his new captors injected him with a biological agent that had made him smarter, stronger, and hungry—so very hungry. Drool dripped from his mouth as he watched the humans’ intimacy. Not for the sex; that was something he had lost the hunger for long ago. But the rippling muscles, the stretch of flesh, the intoxicating smells. He had to have them.

  Geena Carver, in the throes of her orgasm, was tossing her head back and forth when she caught sight of the large animal. She let out a scream that Doug, the drunken loser she’d picked up so she could get her rocks off, had thought it was a shout in support of his prowess.

  “Get off me!” She pushed up against him. Doug kept right on thrusting inside of her, too close to the edge to not finish the act. She put her foot against his chest and forcibly sent him away, his spray arcing toward her even as he fell backwards off the bed.

  Iggy signed: funny.

  “What the fuck? You said you were on the pill!”

  “Looooook!” She pointed as she scurried away, grabbing at her discarded clothes.

  Doug was having a slow time recovering from post-coitus and the six shots of tequila he’d downed at the bar. Add to that, he was busy admiring the prolific amount of semen he had deposited across the belly of whatever the fuck her name was.

  “There, you stupid fuck!” She was quickly putting her clothes on, not caring that her shirt was getting soaked. Doug followed her finger; he stared dumbfounded at the gorilla.

  “You can’t be there,” he told Iggy.

  I believe I can be, Iggy responded.

  “Look, look…bastard’s signing! He’s like a zoo monkey or something. I bet he’s friendly.” Doug said tentatively.

  “Yeah, yeah—you take your new pet on home. I’m getting out of here.” Geena bent over and grabbed her shoes, not wasting time putting them on.

  Iggy moved, taking away her avenue of escape. Stay, lady, he signed.

  “Aw, he’s just a big dumb animal.” Doug had taken a step closer.

  “Pete…don’t.”

  Doug looked back. “Who's Pete?” Those were his last words on earth as Iggy quickly spanned the distance. He wrapped his enormous hand around Doug’s face, squeezing it until it erupted like an acne addled adolescent’s zit. A muffled scream came from Doug but was quickly drowned out by Geena’s deep-throated cry.

  Iggy puffed his lips out and brought his index finger up in the universal gesture for “shush.” Geena shut her mouth, believing that if she did as the gorilla asked, he would let her go. She began to cry softly when Iggy twisted Doug’s head two full revolutions and popped it off easier than a beer cap. Iggy let the body fall to the floor before peeling the skin up and over Doug’s head so he could pull away the fractured skull parts and reach into the juicy, fun-filled center where he gobbled down the brain in large handfuls. He repeatedly smacked his lips as he did so. When he’d licked the entirety of the brain cavity clean, he picked up Doug’s headless body and tilted him upside down above his head so that blood poured into his mouth like a patron their final beer at last call, making sure they got every bit of the gods’ nectar. Geena knew there was no possible escape from this scenario unless she made it for herself. She pulled out her can of mace. She’d had to use it once, on a man that had decided her exit point was now a port of entry. She’d sprayed the mace directly into his eyes and mouth and, just to let him know exactly how she felt, she’d kicked him in the balls before she left.

  Iggy spent the next forty-five minutes chewing through every part of the man, attempting to quell his insatiable need. Eating would take the tip of the edge off momentarily, but it was always there, right under the surface. A parasite that would never get its fill. Geena had quit crying over a half-hour ago and was steeling her resolve to save her life, hoping the mace would work as effectively on the gorilla as it had the potential sodomizer. She could scream until her lungs burst, but no one was coming to the outskirts of the barrows tonight, not after the battle that had been fought here. Buildings were still on fire, for fuck’s sake. Geena let out a gasp when Iggy turned his attention toward her.

  “Don’t fuck with me.” She got low, hoping to make a smaller target of herself.

  Iggy let out a roar that made her flinch.

  “You know what I’m saying, don’t you. You’re a smart monkey.”

  Iggy roared again and signed the word gorilla. He saw the small device she held in her hand and was wary, though it was not like any type of firearm or dart gun he’d ever seen, but the hairless ones were smart and sneaky. This made up for their pathetic lack of strength. Iggy made a step for her; the woman raised her weapon. He stepped back. He wanted to eat in the worst way, but even sating his desire was not worth getting hurt. He backed up a few paces and looked around. He bent down and picked up a brick.

  “Don’t you dare, you stupid ape,” the woman hissed. As Iggy reared back and threw, Geena moved to the side. The brick exploded against the wall, a shower of clay chunks rained down on her. She was terrified, but she was also angry. As Iggy bent to grab more debris, Geena ran towards him, depressing the red button on her aerosol can as she went. A steady stream of the pepper spray shot out, squirting Iggy in the face. His nose wrinkled when the pungent odor hit his olfactory senses. His roar was rewarded with a mouthful of the stringent liquid, and, as he ducked to avoid it, Geena coated his eyes. He was incensed that she dared to fight back, that, after all that had been done to him, any human would dare to fight back. They deserved everything he did to them. Iggy couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe, and couldn’t see, but that didn’t stop him from swinging his arms. He knew the direction she had been going, and humans were slow. He raced a couple of paces forward, swinging as he went. He ignored the pain as his feet came down upon glass and chunks of concrete. On a backswing, he felt the satisfaction of his hand connecting with the side of her head. He could hear her sliding along the floor and the groans of pain from the strike.

  Iggy wiped furiously at the burning; he was panting heavily and his eyes were tearing. He slammed his fists against the ground in a bid to make it stop. He could hear the female trying to pull herself away, but what he didn’t know was he’d cracked her spine. Geena no longer had the use of her legs, though she crawled forward as best she could. He was desperate to get to her, to not let her escape. She was halfway out the doorway when he could finally see again. He loped over to her on all fours and grabbed her by her ankle. She cried out as he lifted her easily and tossed her into a wall. She hit hard and crumbled into a heap, barely clinging to life. For some unfathomable reason, some payback, perhaps, from a very old sin, she was still conscious as he began to feast on her leg.

  13

  Deneaux

  “The plane has been found. Abandoned airstrip some ten miles from where the encampment is,” Captain Vienden, Sergeant Crawford’s superior, informed Deneaux. “Also, something else.”

  “What am I looking at?” she asked.

  “Aircraft carrier. Either they disembarked from it or are planning on boarding.”

  “Bennington, you crafty old fox. This was your plan all along. Pity I had to put a bullet in that brain of yours.”

  Vienden stood there listening to Deneaux’s spoken thoughts.

  “This is excellent. Assemble a team; I have a package I would like delivered.”

  “Right now?” Captain Vienden said.

  “That’s right. No time like the present,” Deneaux snapped.

  “We are in the middle of a siege. Sending troops and machines of war to engage an enemy that is not an immediate threat and may never be, is not wise.”

  “Do you believe I can easily have you replaced, Vienden?” Deneaux smiled as she delivered her words.

  Vienden stiffened. The only reason he was in command of the forces was that his predecessor, rest
his soul, was not seen fit for the task, according to the new base commander, anyway. “I believe that you can. I also believe that whoever replaces me will feel the same way.”

  “Pity. I’ll just have to keep going down the line until I get what I want. Anything else?”

  Against his better judgment, but in a bid to keep his body bullet-free, he spoke. “I’ll assemble the personnel needed.”

  “I knew I picked you for a reason! And however many men you decide to take with you, double it. Now, dismissed, or whatever you lackeys take as a command to leave.” Deneaux swiveled her chair away and took a luxurious drag of her cigarette. Mike had eluded her iron grip, but she would make sure he did not her hammering fist. “I wish I could be there for your final breath, but the burdens of leadership prevent it.” She leaned her head back. “No matter. I will have one of the soldiers record it, then I can watch it over and over, and each time, I will toast to your inevitable but sad misfortune. Perhaps I will even take your dog…or is that too Wicked Witch of the West like?” She cackled at her revelation.

  An hour later, Vienden came back. Deneaux had been through an entire pack of smokes and, besides her smoking hand, she had not moved.

  “We have two hueys ready to go,” he informed her.

  “Will twenty-four people be enough, and is the Apache accompanying them?” She turned back slowly to face him.

  “Twenty, ma’am, and the Apache is down for maintenance.”

  She stood. “That’s unacceptable. There are hundreds of people there. I want maximum damage delivered.”

  “So, this mission is not just to ascertain the threat?”

  “Pah…we both know it’s the deserters, and deserters must be punished. I realize I may not be completely up to date on my military justice, but the punishment for desertion during a time of war is death. Am I correct?”

  “It is,” he answered.

  “I would like a larger force—a glorious show of strength—something to make it personal. Bullets aren’t quite the same as staring into someone’s eyes as you plunge a knife into their heart, but it’s more than they deserve.”

  “I have already pulled as many non-essentials as I can for this mission, and taking our largest defensive weapons away would be a mistake. We do not have much usable fuel remaining, should you wish to begin an evacuation.”

  Deneaux raised an eyebrow.

  He decided on a differing tactic. “Ma’am, I don’t think you’re taking into consideration the logistics we have to overcome for this mission.”

  “Inform me then.” She rested her elbows on her desk and clasped her hands together. “I’m all ears,” she spoke low, though all she displayed were teeth.

  “The group you wish to attack is nearly eight hundred miles away. The helicopter's maximum range is three hundred, meaning, they can only go a hundred and fifty before they drop the soldiers off and head back. At that point, the men will be cut off from resupply and will have to procure suitable transportation to make it to that beach.”

  “I’m still waiting for the problem.”

  The captain was speechless; none of this made sense. Deneaux should be evacuating the base, not fighting a war on another front.

  “Oh, and Captain, I want you leading the way. And just in case something should happen to you, I will bring your sweet daughter, what’s her name? Heather? Yes…pretty Heather. I’ll have her stay to keep me company while you’re gone. Safest place on the base, I mean, until it isn’t, right? For instance, if your heart wasn’t in the mission, then hers would be. Have I made myself clear?”

  Vienden looked at the large revolver on her desk.

  “Are you calculating how fast you can draw your weapon? Seriously, how fast do you think a frail old woman can pick up that extremely large forty-five caliber revolver? She’d probably drop it once she pulled the trigger, the terrific kick and all.”

  He knew that for a lie; he’d watched Deneaux personally execute two men, and her hand and arm hadn’t so much as twitched when she’d done so. Now he knew why he was in command; he had a weak point, a vulnerability, and she was going to press it until he did every distasteful thing she asked of him. Heather was all he had left. He’d lost his wife and one of his sons in the first few chaotic days. His oldest, Dylan, a month later when he'd saved his sister from the zombies by sacrificing himself.

  “We’ll be leaving within the hour.” His lips pressed tightly together as he said so. He turned to walk out.

  “Don’t forget to get some footage of the fight. Oh, and Captain, did you forget something?”

  He stopped.

  “I don’t remember receiving a salute. That’s what your kind do as a sign of respect to your leaders isn’t it?”

  He was indoors without a cover on, and she was a civilian; both were reasons not to salute, but he did so anyway.

  “Much better. Now, hurry along. I truly hope the ineptitude you’ve displayed so far doesn’t translate to disaster out there. The package I have prepared will already be on board and remember, Heather and I will be right here, waiting for your success.”

  14

  Iggy

  Iggy set up his new home in the building where he’d obtained his last meal. He’d slept for many hours after eating and had not been disturbed; he took that as a good sign. He had hoped that more would come to fornicate, as the scent of sex was pervasive, but when none did, he knew that he would have to hunt. As difficult as it was, he waited for nightfall before heading out. Parts of the base were bathed in light, and he avoided those. Much more of the compound was dipped in shadows; he would seek his prey there. He slid behind a row of bushes as two men approached.

  “Why the fuck didn’t we go with Eastman?” Staff Sergeant Saco asked.

  “Because we were told the battle axe would make us senior NCOs,” Gunnery Sergeant Maxwell responded.

  “Fat fucking lot of good that did. Now everyone is a staff sergeant or above, so we’re doing the same shit we were when we were privates,” Saco responded. “What staff sergeant pulls guard duty?”

  Both men turned when they heard a snapping sound off to their left. “Better come out!” Maxwell had his rifle up to his shoulder.

  Okay, Iggy signed before he crashed through the bushes behind them. He smashed their heads together, breaking both men’s skulls. Blood leaked from their ears as he dragged them away. He tried to whistle, like he’d seen one of the orderlies do at the military testing facility, and, though no sound came out, he couldn’t remember being happier. This went on for close to a week. He would hide in the bushes and distract the dumb humans by tossing a rock. At first there were two of them; several meals later only one, nervous and on alert. Finally, no one came. He didn’t know why they weren’t there, only that he needed them to be. When one herd is depleted, it’s time to venture further out.

  15

  Captain Vienden

  Captain Vienden watched as the helos departed after dropping him and his team off; the pit in his stomach expanded as they grew smaller in the distance. He knew in his heart he shouldn’t have left his daughter. He was never going to see her again; he knew that now, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise. He stared at the wooden crate some twenty feet away that housed the package, a medium yield nuclear weapon. It even had the words, “To Be Opened By Michael Talbot Only,” spray painted in neat block letters on the side.

  “What have I gotten myself into? A nuke, for fuck’s sake.” He had vowed he would do anything for his daughter; he’d just not known how far he’d be forced to go. The orders had been specific: set the bomb close enough to wipe the deserters off the face of the planet. When that was completed, they were to engage the enemy, “Kill a few of the bastards,” Deneaux’s words, then retreat to a safe distance to record the detonation, which would be remotely operated by satellite. Vienden knew he’d signed his death warrant the moment he’d questioned her orders. They’d never make it to a safe distance before she set the bomb off. All that he could hope to
gain was that Deneaux would care for his daughter until such time as she figured out what the bitch had done and exacted a measure of revenge.

  An hour later, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when the crate was loaded into a VW van replete with a Make Love, Not War bumper sticker.

  “Irony doesn’t even begin to describe this,” he said aloud.

  16

  Compound

  “Still nothing?” Nicole asked. She had Wesley on her hip; he’d been particularly cranky the previous evening into the morning, and nothing short of constantly holding him had been enough to quiet him down. Tracy had not slept either. They’d lost contact with the personnel sent to the ship the previous evening, and the way Henry kept a vigil on the beach, always looking out to the ship, had done little to ease her concern. The transport boats had informed command that they were still alive—at least, at the time of their hasty departure. Justin had been lobbying unsuccessfully to send another team out there to help. Major Eastman had told him that if they hadn’t heard anything by later that afternoon, he would do a flyover. That had done little to appease the young man.

  * * *

  “It’d be nice if you could tell me what you’re thinking,” Travis said to Henry as he sat down next to the big dog. He wrapped his arm around him. Henry spared him a glance in greeting then went back to his watch. “It’s okay, Henry. You can talk to me; I won’t tell anyone.”