DARKEST PART OF DAY, Part II (Page 6 of 8)
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Chapter 20
Strongholds. The battle for the city was not going well. An hour after the electricity came back on, it was near sundown. The lights helped illuminate the battlefield in front of the school, but by now, so many of the ruthless, tireless zombie force had crossed into the once secure zone, it didn’t matter. Fires burned in nearly every direction around the last vestige of human occupied land, forming a flimsy barrier that barely kept the enemy at bay. As it was, they were totally focused on devouring the unfortunate souls that had fallen or been captured outside the buildings. Once those bodies had been consumed, no one believed that the Zs would be satiated. The communication link to the dam was still intact, and Simon desperately relayed instructions as fast as he could. The engineers at the site would have to make the changes and carry on if the city fell. Simon had already told them that he didn’t think he was going to make it through the onslaught. He suggested that they turn off the lights at the dam complex to keep the interest of the zombies from turning that way. The fences surrounding the dam complex and the adjoined power station could be run even if the city defense system was cut loose from the grid. He even suggested that they could divert more power to the defense of the dam once the city fell. Everyone listening to his words could hear the fear and defeat in the man’s voice even while he tried to remain calm. The urge to head back to the city and help in the battle had to be quelled. The lead engineer flipped through a series of schematic charts and barked orders to his subordinates to get the power back on line completely. “We need to do everything we can to give them a fighting chance.” The engineer called out, rallying the men into action. –––– Berne, Gavin and Jimmy rushed down the tunnels, moving much quicker than before now that the lights were on. Along the way they came across a few zombies that had avoided the earlier assault. They were quickly gunned down, so quickly that Berne had to caution the others that Verne might still be among the people roaming the labyrinthine hallways below the dam. “We need to be sure before we shoot, maybe he really didn’t get bit. OK?” he asked. Gavin was distraught. He’d grown quite fond of Verne Ruddigg, as had many of the other security force members. He was father figure to them and a mentor. Stepping forward, he hoped he wouldn’t have to be the one to shoot his friend. Rounding the curve in the tunnel-like passage, the sound of the river rushing into the inlet came to ear. The door was open and the yellowish cast of mercury vapor lights lit the grassy terrace beyond. Littering the concrete floor between the three men and the open door were the destroyed and dismembered corpses of more than a dozen zombies. Some had been shot at close range, leaving them headless. Knives though, had killed others, their throats slit and their bodies drained of the foul smelling blackened ooze they used for blood. All were quite dead for a second and hopefully final time. Drops of red blood dotted the floor, leading outside into the cool night air. Cautiously, Gavin approached the T-intersection and inched forward, checking the halls to the left and right. More bodies were found both directions, strewn among dozens of empty shell casings from both carbine and pistol. It was evident that Verne had put up one hell of a fight to get outside and to get the inlet valve opened. The hallway was safe, no living dead visible. Gavin moved to the door, taking angle at the left side of the frame. Jimmy moved up and took the right side. With a nod, the pair made a well-practiced, fluid movement into the void, turning to each side to check for targets. “Clear.” Gavin called out. “NOT Clear Right!” Jimmy advised, a little more excited. Gavin swung around and saw the body propped against the side of the building, head slumped to its chest. Jimmy approached one step slowly forward, keeping the muzzle of his short-barreled AR carbine focused on the target. Berne was right behind him now, but he couldn’t force himself to level a loaded weapon at his brother, infected or not. “VERNE!” Berne shouted, waiting for a response, wanting a response but not wanting it at the same time. He’d come to this point with all his thoughts thinking his brother was dead or more likely undead dead. Verne was covered in black slime, quickly drying in the swirling winds coming off the river behind the dam. But there was red blood too, down his brother’s left side. “VERNE!” he repeated. Ever so slowly, Verne’s head raised up until it was against the wall. His eyes opened and he turned to the sound of the voice. “Good to see you, bro.” he managed. Berne rushed forward, but Jimmy stuck an arm out and restrained him. “Be careful.” Jimmy whispered, then relaxed his arm, allowing Berne to move again. “How you doing, Verne? Annie said you got bit, that true?” Berne asked as he closed the distance between them. “Yep. That’s right. Just waiting here for it to happen. Sorry you came along too soon.” Verne answered in a fatigued tone. “I want to get you out of here, back to some medical help.” Berne said calmly. He reached forward and Verne seized his hand. “Probably not such a good idea to get too close. I don’t know how long the transition will take or even if I can infect others yet, but let’s not chance it. Best you just go back.” Verne cautioned. “Can’t leave you here, Verne, I promised Annie.” Berne countered and pulled back his hand until Verne let go. “Come on.” He said and helped his twin brother to his feet. Unsteady, Verne leaned to the wall to stay erect. Berne unwrapped the soiled bandages from Verne’s left arm. Taking care not to spread or allow any of the blackened slime to enter the wound. The bite was bigger than Berne expected, about the size of a golf ball but beyond that flesh had been ripped in a long gash. The severed muscle looked like fresh ground beef, and bright red blood oozed across the opening. Berne had expected worse, at least that the injury would have turned black by now. “Bet this hurts bad.” He commented. “But actually its better than I thought it would be.” Berne added. Gavin and Jimmy had moved closer to see the bite and extent of injury. “How about we get you out of those messy clothes. I have a clean shirt in my backpack.” Jimmy offered and slipped the shoulder straps off. He dug through the small pack and pulled out a spare T-shirt and handed it to Berne. He was still cautious, only extending his outstretched arm, keeping enough distance to react should Verne turn on them. Berne carefully cut the sleeves off the slime-covered shirt from around his brother’s arms. Verne was limp, nearly unconscious, his head lolling back and forth. Gavin looked to Jimmy and slowly shook his head side-to-side. Neither one of the younger men were comfortable being this close to one of the infected, let alone laying hands on one. But they stood by and waited for Berne to get his brother ready to move. –––– “I remembered Berne talking to me. I recalled that he and other men had found me but not much else. I wasn’t sure what I was to think, knowing that I had been bitten; I’d expected to have my body taken over by the virus before then. The fight near the terrace door had sapped all my strength. My body was bruised and battered by the flailing arms of the aggressive zombies that had tried to stop my opening the river inlet back up. I faintly remembered shooting and then they got so close that I didn’t have time to reload the carbine, instead having had to use it as a club. I had transitioned to the handgun and only managed to get off one full magazine before it was knocked from my hand. The blow had struck at the sight of the earlier bite and the pain tore through my nerves making me loose my grip. It was down to the knife and hands and feet. Knife tactics aren’t much good against determined zombies. The slashes and stabs don’t hurt them. The only real benefit is to severe major muscle groups and tendons to limit their use of the extremities. Short of bleeding them dry or making stabbing thrusts into the brain, the knife was nearly useless. But I have to admit that in the panic of battle, having a blade is very comforting. Another tactic that worked but was not a finishing move was to kick out the knees of the Zs as they staggered by or came close. Like the knife, this worked to slow them down, but didn’t kill them in and of itself. Once the firearms were taken out of the picture, I resorted to cutting and kicking them to get them off their feet. After they were down, and could only crawl at me, I methodically went to each one and finished them off, usually with a stab to the brain. The top of the head seems to be the easiest place to penetrate the skull and stops all movement almost instantly. At the end of the battle, I was exhausted and went outside to rest or die. The way I was feeling, death was closer than the time it would take to recuperate. There was no longer a threat from inside the building and the numbers of Zs in the river had tapered off to where they weren’t sufficient clusters of bodies to clog the inlet again. I set down against the wall and waited. I couldn’t hear the birds over the roar of the water, but I could see them flitting back and forth and it was calming to think of them carrying on with life in a normal fashion. The sun was out and beat down on me as I rested until late afternoon. By then I was too stiff and sore to move and resolved that this was all part of the transformation. My guts were cramping and so were most of the rest of the muscles in my body. I ached all over and along with a severe headache, I realized that this must be some of the reason that Zs seem so angry. Maybe they do feel pain, but only from within. My mouth was bone dry but I couldn’t summon enough strength to crawl over to the river for a drink. I thought to myself what a horrible way to die this was going to be.” Verne explained and then looked to the others in the room watching him. He was resting on a cheap but otherwise comfortable sofa in the dam’s break room, surrounded by Annie, Berne, Ollie, Gavin and Jimmy. They all were staring at him, engrossed in the tale. That was the only uncomfortable part of the moment. He was certain they were all waiting patiently for the first signs of his turning into a zombie. He looked around the room again, trying to make eye contact with each of them. And then he closed his eyes. –––––––– Xiang paced nervously back and forth in the safe room. So far as he could tell, none of the savages had yet made it to the upper floors of the house. And since with was being as quiet as possible, he wasn’t giving them reason to try. But the situation was becoming critical. For more than a week he’d been barricaded in the tiny closet, living off the meager rations of dry crackers and bottled water, and surrounded by the baggies and cans of his own waste. His fear had not allowed him to even crack the door enough to see what time of day it was. Even the diamond chips set as hour markers on his expensive watch offered no illumination. He could not tell if it was night or day and had lost track of which day of the week it was. But he had to find out. He needed food and water and wanted desperately to get a signal out so he could be rescued. Pressing his ear to the thick, wooden door, Xiang listened for several minutes. Now, confident that the room beyond his self-imposed prison cell was clear, he slowly unlocked the door. Pushing gently on the heavy door, he was horrified when it let off a loud creak. Sweat broke from his pores, and he waited, certain that he was about to be found. There was no noise though and he pushed the door open, instantly squinting as the bright sunshine bounced off the bedroom walls. It was daytime, the first natural light he had seen in nearly a week. The sweet, flower-scented air flowed to his nose and he took in several long, deep breaths, flushing the stench of his own odors from his lungs. The room was just as he had left it. There were no signs that the deadly monsters had invaded his privacy. Quietly, Xiang stepped across the room and ducked down as he neared the window. Lifting his head up, he looked over the sill trying to identify any of the creatures. All he could see was his carefully manicured lawn and the trimmed forest of palm trees beyond. Nothing appeared out of place. Xiang stood. A loud screech and growls made him focus to the tree line again, where several of the hideous beings burst through the fronds and leafy bushes. Xiang dropped to his knees and bit his lip. So frustrated, he nearly wept, wanting this evil to just be over. They had been there all along, waiting and watching for him to reveal himself. And now he had. Xiang bolted across the room toward the kitchen, scrambling to grab as much food as he could and shuttled it back to the closet. Making several trips, he managed to pile in a week’s worth of groceries and half a case of bottled water. In his haste, he had knocked over several containers of his filth, filling the small space with awful odors and noxious fumes. He raced back to the window to see where the creatures were and was surprised that they were no longer visible. Before he could decide if they had gone on, he heard a crash of breaking glass two floors below him. They were in the house. He darted back to the other side of the room and checked to be sure the door was bolted. The flimsy lock disgusted him and he swore at himself for being so trusting in his safety. All the work and expense that had gone into his “castle” and he had smugly felt he was safe because of the secluded location. Many other parts of the house didn’t have locks or even doors at all. More noise from down stairs sent him running for the closet. Backing in, he pulled the heavy door shut and immediately gagged over the smell of the spilled fluids. He pushed the door open and began to toss out as many of the vile containers as he could, no longer concerned with silence or cleanliness. The waste splashed and spilled, filling the room with human scent. The moans and growls increased. Yanking the door shut, he quickly threw the bolts and locked himself back in the darkness. He sat there in the blackness, heart pounding and his breathing so rapid he felt he would pass out. The gentle clinking of the vent above him was the only other noise he could make out. In his haste, Xiang realized he had again forgotten to grab a flashlight or even a box of matches. He cursed at himself, pulling his knees tighter to his chest and rocking nervously. ––––- “I can’t explain it, but I don’t see any signs of infection.” Annie stated. “The wound is red around the edges, but that’s to be expected given the trauma. But, Thank God, the blood that is oozing out is still red. And there are scabs starting. You don’t see that normally.” She added. “I’m feeling better too. I didn’t realize how hungry I was. Or dehydrated. That would explain the headaches and fatigue.” Verne told her, and squeezed her hand. “Going over this in my mind, I tried to remember that truck driver that got bit, remember?” Berne queried. The others nodded. “That guy was bitten by a lone zombie too. What’s similar about the situations?” he asked. Everyone shrugged their shoulders and looking between the others in the group, searching for answers. “I never saw the Z that bit the driver until he attacked’ Verne offered. “I did see mine though. Remember, Annie? He was in that break room. Looked like he had been there and died of starvation. I thought he was dead and walked past him. Guess there’s a lesson there.” He concluded. “Well it was much the same with the one that bit the driver.” Jimmy added. “I was right next to the guy, looked at the Z lying on the floor and figured he was dead, really dead.” “Ok, so both these incidents involve Zs that have been separated from the outside world for a long time. They starve or whatever, shut down maybe to conserve energy. Maybe they’re all dried up and can’t pass on the virus through the saliva. I don’t know.” Berne surmised. “Neither do I. But I’m not volunteering to be a guinea pig to find out. Once is enough for me. Besides, don’t we have to get back to the city?” Verne said, looking at his brother. When Berne didn’t answer, he looked to Gavin. “What, what is it?” he asked. Gavin shook his head solemnly and turned away. “What’s going on?” he asked again, louder, but to no one in particular. Annie squeezed his hand. “The city has been overrun. We lost contact with them a couple hours ago. I’m sorry.” She apologized. He tried to rise but she pushed him back down. “The last we got was Simon telling us to barricade ourselves in here and that we would find all we needed to survive. He wanted us to make sure the dam survived as well.” She explained. “And my father?” Verne asked. “They’re all gone, Verne. Some reports say that some people made it out early and fled south. But that wasn’t dad’s style.” Berne solemnly expressed. Verne bit his lip and nodded faintly in agreement. “I’ve been up to the top of the dam and can see much of the city, the formerly occupied part at least, is ablaze. All the sounds of gunfire faded out quite a while ago.” “But we don’t know for sure. Can you live with that, Berne?” Verne snapped. “We’re going to have to. We don’t have enough people or enough firepower to overcome the numbers of zombies out there. We wouldn’t even get to town with the mobs of them roaming by. Go up and take a look for yourself. You think I like this? You think I wouldn’t like to go rescue all of them? It’s just too late. I’m sorry, brother, but that’s the way it is.” Berne fired back. ––––- The dam was powering only itself and the surrounding security fences. As part of the security package, cameras, both digital and infrared, allowed the remaining group to keep a close watch on the activity beyond the thick concrete walls. There were thousands of zombies still wandering around the eastern edge of the city, that part that was visible on the cameras. There did not seem to be any coordination or leadership. The technician watching the screens could track individual zombies and follow them as they strolled south. The main direction of movement seemed to be that way, but no one had any idea what attracted them. As long as all the flesh devouring beings continued moving and emptied out of the city, no one was going to do any thing to change their course. Verne and the others spent their time cleaning out the dam. A few isolated Zs were located and dispatched. Fences were mended. And the black, bloody mess of those killed inside the structure were cleaned up and disinfected. During the searches of the many rooms and halls and storage areas, supplies were located. Simon had not been wrong when he had suggested that the dam and its occupants could be self-sufficient. There was enough food for hundreds of people to last for a year. Likewise, there was a stockpile of clothing, firearms and ammunitions, tools, seeds, and books by the hundreds. There was a stack of CDs and another of DVDs containing instructions for the dam, electrical schematics, building calculations and formulas, maps and radio codes. Simon had tried to leave everything that would be of use to the stranded occupants to maintain and later carry on human life. In a maintenance garage there were two brand new, full-sized pickup trucks. Several small johnboats and canoes were hung from the ceiling. A list on a clipboard on the dash of one of the trucks said that two motorboats were moored to a secure dock on the lake side of the dam and another tied up down river. Simon seemed to have thought of everything, except how to get rid of the zombies. ––––- Xiang woke with a start. He felt a heavy thud shake the walls of his room. It sounded close, but he couldn’t tell if it was right outside the door or from the floor below. He wanted it to be from downstairs, comforted that they had not yet made it so close to him. Another thud wiped out his hopes as he felt the vibration through the wall behind him. The closet was erected off the front greatroom, with three exposed walls. It had been decorated to look like a thick, rectangular support column. The crash of a standing lamp alerted Xiang to the fact that someone, or something was right outside the small hiding place. He wanted so desperately to peek out and see if there was room to run past the creatures and find someplace safer. But fear froze him in place, seated on the floor, back to the solid wall and knees pulled up to his chest. His former cockiness was long gone, now even the slightest sound made him jump and sweat. Faint and muffled noises, filtered through the cast concrete, were now all around him. The breaking of vases and windows, furniture tipped over, and moans, the constant moans continued for over an hour. And slowly the sounds faded away and then all was quiet. He had no way to tell if they were still out there, waiting silently and patiently. But his curiosity and fear gnawed at him. There had to be a chance to get off the island or to somewhere that was better than a reeking prison cell-like closet. If he could get out, he could get a signal to a passing boat or light a fire to alert an over-flying plane to his plight. Xiang counted silently on his fingers the number of people that should have been on the island. Two boat men, four girls, maybe five, three maids and a cook, and then perhaps the groundskeeper and his family. Fifteen people! How many of them were still alive like him and not transformed into rotting, foul, blood-hungry monsters? The thoughts raced through Xiang’s mind as he tried to figure the odds. Could they all have been bitten and turned? He wondered. He had to know, at least had to find out if he could get away from them. Slowly, and as quietly as possible, Xiang lifted the first latch. Holding the lever, he turned it down so as not to make even the faintest sound. Then the second latch was lifted and moved equally as careful until the door was unlocked. Quietly and only a fraction of an inch at a time, Xiang pushed the heavy door outward. He expected to see light, bright sunlight, filling the room outside the closet. But it was dark. The hair on his neck and arms tingled, thinking that the ghoulish monsters could be inches away from him and he not know it. Even thinking that the smell from his packaged waste would give the zombies something to find him with, Xiang considered backing into the closet and waiting until morning. But when was morning? How much longer would he have to wait to be safe? Xiang decided to chance a look out the windows to see if there was any activity down on the beach or below in the yard. His first cautious step took him away from the closet for the first time in days and he sucked in the fresh air, feeling revived again. Two more paces took him to a raised step that circled the room. A thin, metal railing was bolted to the wall to keep people from falling out the open windows. The fresh, cool breeze off the ocean came straight through and Xiang realized that the panes were wide open, broken or missing. Glancing down to the ground, Xiang saw movement through the trees, illuminated by the solar lights lining the walkways. It was too dark to see who it was and calling out was not an option. He leaned out a little farther to get a better view and then he saw that one of the ashen-faced creatures was staring back at him. The creature hadn’t alerted his companion yet, still trying to figure out what Xiang was. Xiang jumped back into the shadows, stepping back off the ledge and onto a pile of broken glass. A large piece of a windowpane collapsed under his weight sending a long, slender shard into the arch of his right foot. The pain made him hop away and he crashed to the floor, tripping over a coffee table. As he fell, he struck his head on an ornate wooden chair. Dazed and sore, Xiang scrambled to get to his feet but settled for a seat on a nearby sofa. Pulling his foot up, he felt for the glass and found it was already slick with his blood. He tried several times to pull it free; the slippery shard was hard to get a good hold on. Moans and growls echoed through the house as the creatures were already moving to him. He knew he couldn’t run with the glass embedded in his foot. Feeling around him, Xiang found a piece of cloth, probably a placemat or armrest cover from one of the chairs. It didn’t really matter now he scolded himself, and using the cloth gave him a better grip on the glass. He debated for a few moments whether he should pull it out quickly or slowly. The growls coming up the stairwell made his decision for speed. Wrapping the cloth around the glass, he tugged at it, feeling the glass slice through more of his skin. A warm splash of blood hit his hand, following a second later by another. Terror filled Xiang’s mind as he thought about having severed an artery, and bleeding out quickly. He had never paid much attention to medical issues. Always having the best doctors at his disposal, it had never been necessary. He had not in fact severed the artery, rather a large vein, but now his heart was racing and the blood continued to flow out while he sat on the sofa trying to decide what to do. Xiang wrapped the cloth around his foot and tied it tightly, then rose and hobbled to the kitchen again. This time instead of food, he searched for tools. In the darkness he found a large knife, a small, cheaply made-in-China flashlight, and a first aid kit and then stumbled back to the closet. Even before he could close the door, the mutated voices of dead were at the doorway. Shining the dim, yellow light in the direction of the noise, Xiang saw the first hideous face at the top of the stairs. The monsters had crawled their way up, snarling and snapping their stained teeth at him. He stood there staring for too many seconds before his feet allowed him to move. He pulled the door shut and bolted it. He used the light to quickly survey the surroundings and was not happy. A thick trail of bright, red blood led from his foot to the door and under it. Not only had he allowed them to see him, but also he’d left them an easy-to-follow trail. In anger and frustration, Xiang threw the flashlight. He tried to stop himself but it was too late, the room went black. Groping around in the darkness, he knocked over more containers of his waste before finding the light. He rapidly flicked the switch up and down and shook the light to get a beam from it. The stench-filled cell remained dark. Xiang gagged and pushed himself as far as possible to the other end of the closet, and cried. Clawing and scratches startled him and he turned his head to face the noises at the door. They sniffed and grunted and dug at the base of the door with their bony fingers. Mortified, Xiang heard them lapping at the bloodstains just outside the door. Without thinking, Xiang kicked at the door and screamed. He screamed again as pain shot through his injured foot. The zombies answered his challenge with a chorus of growls and moans. A fury of scratching and clawing erupted beyond the door as the room filled with more and more of the rotting beings, all focused on getting to Xiang. In between the grunts and groans, Xiang heard the metal clinking of the vent above him. Even standing on his toes, he was unable to reach the vent. Frantically, he groped into the blackness and found the tubular metal rod at the far end. He tore the hanged clothing off the bar and tossed it aside. Finally, when the bar was emptied, he grasped it and pulled. As the noises outside grew, Xiang struggled to release the bar from its brackets. Once free, he used it to stab upward into the vent, trying, praying he could create an opening to set him free. Chunks of plaster and cement rained down on him and he closed his eyes to avoid it, not needing them to see in the inky darkness anyway. Every few strikes he heard the bar hit the metal cover on the vent until it too crashed down on him. With relentless determination, Xiang pounded away at the small opening breaking the vent, the fan and the ceiling apart. He was exhausted after a few minutes and dropped to a knee and felt around for a bottle of water. Seizing one, he twisted off the lid and quickly brought the bottle up to take a greedy gulp. The bitter, salty liquid assaulted his nostrils and mouth and he spat it out. Gagging and coughing, he threw the repulsive fluid down. Realizing what he had done only made him sicker and his guts heaved until he vomited, splashing the floor near the base of the door. A riotous din rose outside the door. The monsters clawed at the door with more ferocity and the small room began to reverberate with the drumbeat of fists banging on all the walls. Xiang grabbed the bar and began again, thirsty more than before but not wanting to chance another mistake. Escape was his only thought now. He hammered at the ceiling, chipping away at the cast concrete. After a few more minutes, the bar broke through and he nearly lost it as it passed easily up into the opening. Breathing a sigh of relief, Xiang took a seat and rested. He felt safer now, fresh air dropped into the room, purging the stench and reviving his energy. He felt around for another bottle, wanting it to be water this time. When he located one, he opened it slowly, feeling the cap separate from the safety ring. Even so, he sniffed the contents first and satisfied that it was fresh water, guzzled it down. Pounding on the door signaled that it was time to get back to work. Using the bar again, he slammed it upward time after time until his muscles ached. But he could tell he was making progress, as the bar more than half the time was shooting into open space. Believing he had made the hole big enough to crawl out of, he rested again. He brushed his tired fingers through his hair before looking up. The faintest grayness of morning filtered through the opening. Xiang smiled and looked back at the door and smiled broader. “I will be out soon you ravenous, mongrel dogs,” he taunted. The sound of his voice excited the mob and the door shuttered as they weighed against it in a mighty blow. Startled, Xiang arched backward. Another heavy thud against the door caused Xiang to push back on it, fearing it was about to buckle. THUD, THUD, THUD. The door shook as the massed knot of undead dead smashed into it in unison. Xiang felt around for the small, narrow dressing stand and pulled it over under the vent opening. As the door groaned under he next blow, Xiang hobbled onto the stand and reached for the opening. He had to jump a short distance to reach it and he feared that should he miss he would fall and be injured, ruining his chance at escape. The next attack on the door caused he thick wooden frame to crack. Xiang knew that he had to go now, whatever the danger, it was better than being trapped in the closet. He jumped and caught the edge of the ragged opening and a piece of reinforcing bar. It was solid and he pulled himself up. Poking his head through the opening, he scraped his face on the rough metal bar. With his head through, he reached an arm up and swept around for something to hold. There was nothing but chipped cement and dirt. Feeling his muscles fading, he dropped back to the dressing stand and sucked in several deep breaths. The door shuddered again and cracked some more. A brief ray of light showed around the edge as the door moved in under the weight of the attack. Xiang jumped again and caught the metal bar once more. He pulled himself up and stuck his head and left arm through the hole and kicked his feet to try and pull the rest of his body up. The door creaked and wood snapped. Xiang couldn’t move, his shoulder blade hung up on the bar and he hadn’t enough strength left to lift off it. His right hand ached trying to compensate for the weight. He kicked his feet and felt the walls. Using them on both side of the closet, he was able to push up and free his bruised shoulder. He had both hands through the hole when he heard the door snap loudly. Early morning light flooded the closet and the first hands and arms of the enemy reached in, flailing for him. Xiang couldn’t look down, couldn’t tell how close they were. He was stuck halfway into the rat hole he had made, when he finally realized it wasn’t big enough for his body to fit past. There was no going back down; he could hear them there, just feet, maybe just inches from grabbing him. Xiang kicked with all his might, demanding his exhausted body to do the impossible. Rubbing the skin on his elbows raw, Xiang struggled to pull his chest through the bars. Something brushed against his foot and he kicked wildly at it. The door snapped again and Xiang screamed and cursed and cried in fear and frustration and panic. The sun broke the horizon and Xiang turned to see the bright yellow rays illuminate the world. For an instant he was at peace, stunned by the beauty of the sun that he had missed for nearly two weeks. Something grasped his foot, a strong hand held his ankle. Xiang panicked and kicked. The cut on his foot opened during the struggle, oozing fresh blood. A sickening group of screeches filled the air. Xiang couldn’t free his foot and then the other was seized as well. He felt the power of the mob as they pulled at him, trying to bring him down. With all the strength he still possessed, Xiang fought to raise himself up, out of their clutches. More gnarled, filthy fingers grabbed his legs and dug into his flesh. The bars pressed into his shoulders and neck as he fought to get loose. The first searing sting of a bite went through his heel. He felt the bone crush under the pressure of the teeth and then his flesh was ripped away. The rampage below erupted and the door caved in, the upper corner of it scratching across Xiang’s ribs, tearing a jagged seam in his side. Hands were all over him now and then the bites began. Xiang screamed and kicked and bled. The tiny roomed filled quickly, packed with more than a dozen of the people he had once employed. Dangling from the rat hole, Xiang could do nothing to save himself except scream and cry. But as the blood drained from him, and the muscles and flesh were torn savagely from his carcass, the screams and cries subsided and his strength faded. When he could no longer hold himself up, the crowd pulled him down. So tightly were they packed into the closet that he never touched the floor. ––––- “So what now?” I asked the others. No one seemed to have any more answers than I did. We were 24 people, alive, but isolated from the world. We had provisions that would see us through the next year or more. We had everything we needed to leave, if we chose to. But, to where? I’d seen no place that offered the safety this place did. But it didn’t seem natural to sit here and wait for the Zs to eventually find us. And yet, was there any other choice? “We wait it out,” Berne offered. “Yeah, I see no other option,” Ollie added. I looked to Annie, and she nodded too. Looking around the room, everyone was in agreement. All I could think of was, “This is going to be interesting.” Again, everyone else seemed to be in agreement. “All right, let’s get back to work. We’ll see what happens.” |
Chances are, I am who pissed in their cheerios...
Joined:
Mar 2007
Posts:
2053
EE: 100% (4)
VA, USA
to hell with your other story, i want MOAR!!! 
i would be very intrested in reading your other story as i really enjoy your writing, but right now i'm quite happy with this tale and rather invested. i vote keep working on this one, but it's your hobby, do as you see fit. you just keep writing and i'll keep reading  ...
thanks very much for what you've given us so far!.. K. |
My conservative commonwealth's 232 year old state seal is a direct COC violation. Our founding fathers approved of images of bared breasts...
WWW.ASHBYARMS.COM
WWW.ASHBYARMS.COM
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Originally Posted By Kar15:
to hell with your other story, i want MOAR!!!
i would be very intrested in reading your other story as i really enjoy your writing, but right now i'm quite happy with this tale and rather invested. i vote keep working on this one, but it's your hobby, do as you see fit. you just keep writing and i'll keep reading ...
thanks very much for what you've given us so far!.. K. THIS!!!!!!! x 10000000 I've been reading most of the stories here on ARFCOM and I am truely enjoying this one the most. Kar15 is correct, its your hobby and do as you see fit. But if it is at all possible please continue with this one. Thank You for all you've done with this one and I hope you continue on with the new book of Darkest Part of Day III. AKASL  LIVE ZOMBIE FREE OR DIE
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what? no feelings about comrade Xiang? I appreciate the support guys, I'll see what I can do. Might not be immediate though, weather is warm and so the lizards (mopes, scrouts, criminals) or whatever you want to call them have made their presence known and are out causing havoc on the innocents among us. Duty first, reading when possible. But the good news is, I'll be retiring in the next couple years and everyone at arfcom is welcome by the shop to shoot, or shoot the shit.
fast out. |
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Originally Posted By fast45:
what? no feelings about comrade Xiang? I appreciate the support guys, I'll see what I can do. Might not be immediate though, weather is warm and so the lizards (mopes, scrouts, criminals) or whatever you want to call them have made their presence known and are out causing havoc on the innocents among us. Duty first, reading when possible. But the good news is, I'll be retiring in the next couple years and everyone at arfcom is welcome by the shop to shoot, or shoot the shit. fast out. If I recall correctly comrade Xiang is the one who developed a new material from HAZ MAT, HAZ BIO and what ever else he could get his hands on. Also IIRC Xiang knew that the material would break down into a gooy infectious mess but went ahead with the production of said material anyway. Taking all this into consideration and the fact that Xiang was part of bigger plot to infect the world at large, comrade Xiang got what he deserved........ to be eaten alive by what he created. AKASL LIVE ZOMBIE FREE OR DIE
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Originally Posted By Lucky_lefty:
How did stampley die? Blowwwwwed up, sir! |
Originally Posted By Taxman:
Dont lie, 90% of you would buy Snuggies if we could get them in black with the Bolt Face Logo on them.
Perfect for ARFCOM posting, keeps you warm in even the coldest basements.
Dont lie, 90% of you would buy Snuggies if we could get them in black with the Bolt Face Logo on them.
Perfect for ARFCOM posting, keeps you warm in even the coldest basements.
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Originally Posted By ViniVidivici:
Originally Posted By Teague:
Holy crap, what a good ending. Since Stampley died, I bet Xiang is going to be the next zombie leader. Book 3 FTMFW! Ending? SAY IT AIN'T SO, fast45! Book 2, book 3 will probably be even better. 
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"May have been the losing side. Still not convinced it was the wrong one."
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I'm glad you like my story so much and I will try to write more as I can. But I would appreciate if you started your story as a new post. First so that people arent thrown completely off the trail to where my characters are going. And second, I think everyone would enjoy your story for what it is. And I would certainly be interested in reading it and giving feedback.
Fair enough? Thanks, Fast |
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Originally Posted By fast45:
I'm glad you like my story so much and I will try to write more as I can. But I would appreciate if you started your story as a new post. First so that people arent thrown completely off the trail to where my characters are going. And second, I think everyone would enjoy your story for what it is. And I would certainly be interested in reading it and giving feedback. Fair enough? Thanks, Fast I second this motion. |
كافر All the way. [Not Posted Via AR15.Com Mobile]
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Originally Posted By fast45:
Only that its in the works. I'm writing what I can in down time at work, which isnt much lately. Otherwise, most days I'm OBE (Overcome By Events). I still check in here to see if the interest is there and will post when I get something done. This is one thread that I always keep in my "subscribed" section.
When I saw that you were the last person to post something, I naturally assumed there was more story to be had. Imagine the angst & grief I now feel that there isn't. Here's a smily version.     
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The world will look up & shout "save us". And I'll whisper "no".
"Blessed are those who hunger & thirst for righteousness. For they shall be satisfied." Mathew 5:6
"Blessed are those who hunger & thirst for righteousness. For they shall be satisfied." Mathew 5:6
Chances are, I am who pissed in their cheerios...
Joined:
Mar 2007
Posts:
2100
EE: 100% (4)
VA, USA
Well here we are, on the raggedy edge........
Joined:
May 2001
Posts:
1035
EE: 100% (176)
TX, USA
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Originally Posted By fast45:
working on another story not sure if i will merge with this one as part three yet or stay on different storyline. thanks for support Sounds great, keep us informed, I definitely want to read anything you write. 
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كافر All the way. [Not Posted Via AR15.Com Mobile]
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Originally Posted By fast45: There are lots of online places but none that seem all that cheap when you read the fine print. But we are looking and hope to get at least a few dozen copies of each book out there. I will post it here first when things get worked out. I have used lulu.com before with good results. you can essentially run your own store where they do the printing and shipping direct to customer, and you can add in some extra $$$ for you if you want. |
Annoy A Liberal: Work Hard, Get Rich, Be Happy.