Cold Fingers

[Enishi]

((I wanted to get these in before I leave.))

This is the story of an apocalypse come true. With the dead walking the earth, first striking in the north east of the United States, a strange uprising of the undead re-emerge after being contained the first time around.

<div align="center">Part One: The Infection Re-Begins</div>

It has been five years since that incident and the whole world has gone on as always. Elias graduated from Highschool and passed through college, and got a job as a video reporter. After moving to London and working for the BBC channel. After a while working in Britain, Elias began to miss the states. After quitting his job and becoming an independent, Elias moved back to New England and relived the cold.

Exiting his plane, Elias breathed in a fresh gulp of air. Cold as it was, it was a refreshing piece of air, indeed. Walking out of the airport and hopping into a taxi, Elias drove to the one place he knew his parents would be; his old house. As the taxi pulled up, Elias paid the driver and brought his bags to the front door. He was greeted heartily and brought inside.

“So, how has your job been doing?” his mother asked with glee. “Has my boy become a celebrity yet?” “Ha, yes mom. My job is going fine.” Elias replied with a chuckle. “Baby... I miss you so much. Ever since your father...” his mother trailed off, her eyes welling with tears. Elias walked over to her and hugged her as she began to sob. “I just miss him so much,” she sobbed again. Taking a breath, she stepped back and walked into the kitchen. “Please. I want you to have something... he tried to give it to you before he went to the hospital, but you were so far away...” Elias’s mother brought in a steel case, carefully cleaned and polished. Clearly a very intricate item.

Time: 2:30 PM
44 hours until the infection begins

What his mother clutched was a gun case, yet not an ordinary one. Inside was his fathers Beretta 471 Silver Hawk shotgun. The wood was dyed black and was equipped with a twenty seven-inch long barrel with a silver satin chrome finish. His father called it his ‘pride and joy’. Whenever he had free time, he would polish it, clean it, and take it to the field to shoot it. Rinse and repeat. During the final years of his life, his father began collecting all sorts of rifles and pistols, then would sell them at local auction shows after reviving them.

This was a beautiful rifle, capable of causing a lot of damage. Opening the silver case, Elias became wide-eyed at the shotgun. It was beautifully crafted, and nicely customized. The silver chrome finish with the black body seemed very macabre and very much interesting. Such a nice gift. The case had a special black velvet padding, however, there was also and imprinted area that contained a box of shells for the shotgun. Opening the box, Elias was even more surprised when he saw the entire box filled. “Uh... Mom? Why is there a full box of ammunition here?” Elias asked quizzically. “Oh... well...” his mother continued, “Well, your father kept blabbing on about something, but I think it was all rubbish. Don’t mind it.” With a shrug, Elias gave his mother a hug and talked with her for a little while before leaving.

The following morning, Elias woke up in his apartment to the ringing of his cell phone. Picking up the red ‘Motorazr’ phone, which was considered old and out of date today, Elias sleepily answered the phone, he was instantly shot awake as the sad news spread from the speaker. That morning, Elias’s mom’s maid had reported she silently passed away. Elias gave a simple answer and turned off the phone. His eyes blanked out and he just sat there... he was alone now. His cousins had long since moved away and his older brother had moved to China to live a more exotic life. He had no one.

The following day Elias stood alone at the gravestone where both his parents were buried. He wore a black suit, without suit coat. In his hand, was a rose. His eyes were both blanketed by a thick sheet of sadness. Two tears fell onto the freshly dug earth followed by the white rose. And there he stood. For hours he remained at the grave, just looking at the stone. Behind him was a man in a brown overcoat with a bowler hat. He walked up to the disappointed man and tapped his shoulder. “I have a story for you,” he said with a low voice. “This story could make you a millionaire if you covered it. You might even get to explain why the Virginia incident was so covered up.” His ears perked. What happened in Virginia so long ago had tore at his very brain. The story caused his eyes to dry and turn. “You heard me right. And will happen right here; in Massachusetts.” He continued with the big story and how it could rock the foundations of the government, and the fact of exposing something about the government could really do something about the country.

Packing up his equipment at home, Elias set his items around and went to sleep. His mind was bursting with ideas of how he could do something about the governments coverups, but the problem of what happened to his mother was even greater. His mind conflicted with events as he slept on, but they would be concentrated on one thing the next day...

Time: 6:30 AM
:05 seconds... :04... :03... :02... :01... :00
The Infection has begun.

In the same cemetery where Elias’s mom was buried, scraping wood filled a rich man’s mausoleum. A few men, dressed in black, busted inside and began to raid the graves for any sort of jewelry. When they began to hear the scraping from the coffin in the middle, they opened the rich marble stone and were attacked by a decaying male. The man he attacked, tried knocking the man off, but was unable. The decaying man began tearing pieces of the man’s shoulder until he spotted the petrified grave robber. As the man tried to run, he was attacked by another decaying person. And so it began...

Time: 10:30 AM
5 months until military ‘Clean-Up’.

He awoke to the screaming and yelling of people along with explosions and gun shots. As he jutted up, Elias ran to the window and looked outside to the death and destruction. The same cultists from all those years ago returned and began their cannibalistic rampage. “My god,” Elias exclaimed.

It was utter chaos; women and children, men and elder, ran in all directions trying to avoid the near-death looking civilians. People fell, and were eaten in time, people were locked in cars, busses, filled with school children were being ransacked, people were locking themselves in shops, it was unbearable. Elias watched on in horror as the zombies literally ganged up on injured people and tore them to shreds.

Working fast, Elias grabbed his video camera, slipped in a fresh tape, and opened the window, using the zoom feature on the camera, he shuddered in pure amazement as the cultists just began to show no mercy on these people. People who weren’t part of the cultists, were becoming fountains of blood as their lifeless bodies just spewed blood onto the streets, and their organs slowly being ripped from their respective places. His camera moved to the ransacked bus where the zombies, after much attempt, finally tipped the buss open and forced the doors and windows to allow the lunch for these lunatics. They pulled children from the buss and just ripped at their throats as the bus driver was being eaten piece by piece.

The sound of banging almost made him drop the camera, but was lucky enough to recover. Looking through the peeking glass, Elias got a close-up view of one of the cultists. Yet, with such a close up look, the cultist looked more like a bitten victim... past rigor mortis. Backing off of the door, Elias pulled out the backpack with the camera supplies and pulled out only a couple of tapes and his notebook and pen. Emptying out everything else, Elias placed the items in the bag then took grabbed the shotgun case. Opening it and loading a couple of slugs inside, Elias emptied the shells into the bag as well as the cleaning cloth and slung the bag over his shoulders. With the shells ready, Elias cautiously opened the door. The person on the other side lunged for an attack, but was parried but the shotgun. Elias took a few minutes to look at the person who was having problems getting back up. Placing his fingers to check for pulse, Elias found none.

Fear shot through Elias’s head like a bullet. This person wasn’t living, yet he still moved and acted as if he was. Running out the door, Elias saw others becoming victim to the people. Running to the fire escape, Elias climbed till he reached the roof where a helicopter just landed. Inside, was a young man donning some casual wear and with a camera. Running to the chopper, Elias hopped inside. Immediately, the young man took a picture of Elias. “What the hell man? ” Elias exclaimed. “Gil Let’s get out of here I still want a few pictures of the town.” The young photographer yelled to the pilot in the helicopter. Raising an eyebrow, Elias scooted a little more inside and pulled out his camera. Videotaping the situation, Elias got a couple of minutes of situations going on all around town.

After a while, and a couple of pictures, a military helicopter flew in and attempted to shoot the helicopter down. After a while of dodging, Elias jumped out of the copter right above a gun shop. After steadying himself, Elias videotaped the photographer’s helicopter getting away, and out of sight. Whatever the fate of the two inside, remained a mystery to Elias as his ears filled with the sounds of gun shots, screaming, crying and... silence. For a second, he just sat there; petrified. But when something nudged his head, a voice interrupted the silence.

“Who are you? Say something” the voice yelled. His head slowly turned to an old man with an old colt .44 six-shooter aimed at his face. “We are all as good as dead, aren’t we?” Elias asked back. His eyes drooped as the old man retrieved the weapon and locked the safety. “Well... that’s another. Hey Ann We got another survivor” the old man yelled. A door that led into the store opened and an old woman walked out with several young people trying to get a gaze. “Well tell him to get inside and help with the barricade ” she yelled back.

Being forcefully stood up, the old man noticed the equipment that Elias had with him and asked a rather blunt question. “You some sort of government scum?” He continued with, “I saw you in that ‘copter a little while ago and thought you were either a zombie or something from the government. Well, you can tell that damned president that he can take his help and shove it up his ass If he’s too lazy to get the army over here, we might as well be dead ”. Dragging him into the basement, Elias was surprised by the old man’s strength enough to be brought to the main part of the store. The two doors, that would be the entrance, were nailed and drilled and covered in random items such as a broken door, a vending machine still plugged into the wall, and a moved storage cabinet. Through empty spaces, Elias could see the zombies trying hard to break through. Yet unsuccessful. “Are the windows secure?” the old woman asked. “Yes,” the old man replied. “Alright, we got some food here and water to last us a while, along with enough ammunition to hold back any zombies that break in. However, we will run out of food and water eventually, along with ammunition. So conserve your bullets, and don’t eat as much. Unless one of us has a plan, use the whiteboard in the indoor target practice area downstairs.” Spat the old woman. In the main area, there were seven other people, not including the old woman. There was a man with chinos, a blue polo shirt, and a golf club, with short brown hair and a clean-shaven face. There was a teenage girl wearing a short denim skirt and a black tank top and a red and white sports jacket around her shoulders with long blonde hair. There were also two young men, dressed in camping gear with a shotgun in their hands, a black cop with a torn-up uniform, a man with a black tuxedo, an a woman dressed in a rich red dress with ruby-colored high heeled shoes.

After the speech the group split with the two young hunters walking to where two windows, wide open, yet high enough off the ground far from the reach of the zombie’s hungry, lurching arms. The red dressed woman placed a cigarette in her mouth and began to light it before clutching her tightly bandaged leg. The old man began tuning the radio, the old women grabbed a colt .44 from the display case and began loading it, the police officer began checking the barricades for any loose boards, the man in the tuxedo took a soda out from the vending machine and sat down in a nearby chair and began sipping while the man in chinos walked downstairs to write on the white board and the teenage girl moved around trying to get a signal from her cell phone. Elias moved to an ammunition box and began refilling his box of shotgun shells. It was going to be a while before this place was settled.

Time: 12:00 AM


The man in the polo had been working on several plans all starting on the whiteboard then escalating to paper. The gun watch had been working in shifts with the hunters at first, then the old man and the man in the tuxedo, followed by the old woman and Elias, then the cop and the man in the polo and chinos then repeat. When the clock struck 12, the old woman lit a kerosene lamp and put a can of beans on the cooker. The woman in the red dress grabbed her wound and began to whimper as the teenager fell asleep in an instance.

The woman in the red dress began to moan in pain as the man in the tux came to look at the wound. “Guys... we got a problem. Her wound is turning yellow and the blood isn’t pumping to the rest of her leg,” he panicked. The woman in the dress began to turn pale and sweat, as well as grow a fever. Her eyes began to flicker open and close as someone poured cold water down her throat. “I think we need to get her to a doctor.” Tux said again. “Damn it, Eric, we can’t get outside without being ripped to shreds ” the old man yelled. “Oh yeah? Well we have the weapons, Bob, we could shoot our way through them then-” but before Eric could continue on, the woman in the red dress collapsed onto the floor, motionless. Immediately, everyone rushed to her to see if there was anything to do. Her pulse stopped. A long, drawn-out sigh escaped Eric. “Well... so much for that,” one of the hunters said, “‘ey, Mike?” the hunter hit the other hunter, Mike, in the shoulder. The teenage girl, now awake, pulled a sheet over the body and shuddered. “I think it is time we get out of here...” the man in the polo spoke. He held, in his hand, a bunch of papers stapled together and folded up. Placing it under the suspended lamp and showed a schematic of the area. “It took me a lot of scouting and guessing, but here is the area we are in. My guess is if we can escape out the back window and take this way out to the second street, we should find a car rental... here.” the man in the polo pointed out an area on the map. “If we can steal a mini van or a hummer, we could plow through the zombies at the front door and hop inside with supplies.” “Yeah? Then what?” the teenager blurted out. As soon as she spoke, the group of eight looked at here as she folder her arms. “Then what? Where do we go then? We’d just drive around until we ran out of gas then we’d be trapped in a tighter corner with no where to run. And when we run out of food, then what? We’d be forced into cannibalism and one of us would have to die. Who would that be? And wouldn’t that dead person become a zombie?” But when she said that, a tumor of fear spread through everyone’s mind as all eyes turned to the covered corpse. All there was, remained a sheet. The hunter, Mike, loaded his Remington shotgun and backed into a corner. The old woman and the teenager hid behind the counter, Elias turned off the safety on his shotgun, the old man following suit. Eric’s tux began to show signs of sweat as he ran downstairs and locked the door behind him.

“Shit...” Elias cursed as the sounds of footsteps filled the room. The woman, who had just been dead a little while ago, began hobbling to where Elias stood. Her eyes were fogged over, and her neck looked off hinge. Petrified by fear, Elias backed to the counter as the woman got close. Yet, one shot filled the room. The cop, holding a Beretta pistol, took a deep breath as a hole in the woman’s head began to spew blood and her corpse fall to the ground. The cop’s balding head sweated and his torn uniform seemed to set the mood as a hero. “Thanks Leon ” Bob finally shot out. He couldn’t take off his gaze from the corpse. “Well?” Leon, the cop, continued, “Let’s get to that rental.”

Time: 1:45 AM

“The first car we get will need gas.” Leon spoke to the group. “I’ve got an fuel can, in case the generator dies,” Said the old man. “Alright then; once we get the car, it will need to be fortified. If these zombies are as persistent as I think they are, they will attempt to break into the car. They will smash at the windows, claw at the steel, they might even use debris. I was thinking that me, Elias, and Michael would take the car and slide it into the garage, while everyone would help nail whatever on the windows to keep the zombies from breaking in.” Leon continued. Without any argument, Leon gathered a shotgun and loaded it till it was full. Packing up on ammunition, all three men climbed through a small crawlspace that led to the back of the store, in an alleyway. Surprisingly, the zombies were so concentrated on the front entrance, they missed this one. As the three got out, and the door lock behind them, Taking their time sneaking through the alleyway, Leon took a gaze out of the alley. All looked clear for the time being.

The three ran across the street, and through several neighborhoods before coming up on the car rental. Of course, most of it was quite ransacked. Cars were stolen, windows were broken, and dead bodies. Walking into the building, the three split up, looking for where car keys are kept and if there were the cars that matched them.

Leon sifted through debris in the first office, finding only broken pieces of wood and glass. He found, what might have been, a couple of keys, but were broken or rusted. Cursing under his breath, Leon went through drawer after drawer, throwing useless papers, debt papers, etc. Meanwhile, Mike had already broken into a pickup and was starting to hot-wire it. All he could get was the sound of the engine going on and off. Elias poked his head out the door, searching up and down the street. So far it was clean.

The Zombies outside the gun shop had stopped attempting to break in, and instead, were standing around, dumbfounded. Inside, what remained of the group had been gathering pieces of wood and whatever debris they could use. The other hunter had been gathering the guns and ammo in the duffle bags that the store had in storage. Eric, who had taken a shotgun and stood by the window was starting to panic. “Guys... hey guys We got a problem ” One of the zombies began to slowly walk up the street, where the car rental was. Soon, the others followed. It was a matter of time before they were all on their way.

Elias saw the horde approaching the car rental. He started to panic. Mike, who had rushed to see what the problem was, too, rushed to see the problem. “Holy shit...” He exclaimed. Rushing to the pickup, Mike desperately tried to get the car started. Leon, frantically, tore out drawers, searching for a key. “Shit, shit, shit ” Elias yelled out. Pulling out the shotgun, the young man pulled the safety off and began to fidget. “Hurry the fuck up ”.

Undoing the barricade, the group began to sling the bags over the shoulders. Although they were sacrificing three good men, this was a good excuse to escape. Once taking down last piece of broken door, the group last the gun shop and headed in the opposite direction of where the zombies were going. The young girl took a gaze at the disappearing zombies before turning away and following the rushed group.

Mike finally got the car started. The engine roared with life as Leon jumped into the passengers seat, and Elias into the back. As the car drove off, it nailed the oncoming zombies with such force to liquify a bird. As the truck stopped in front of the gun shop, Elias ran inside to see only emptiness. However, they accidentally left a gasoline case behind. Pulling off the nozzle, Elias rushed the case to the truck and began to fill the empty tank. “Hey, where are the others?” Mike asked. “Gone. They left us here,” Elias replied angrily.

The group of five had made their way into an old hotel, abandoned during the zombie outbreak. Blockading the doors, the five took in deep breaths. “Well... We left the others behind, and for all we know they could be alive... great job old man,” Eric exasperated. The old man, clutching his hip, held his colt .44 stiffly. “Some sacrifices are needed...” Bob said, tiredly. “That was my brother you made me leave behind!” the hunter exclaimed. His mouth was quickly shut when the colt was pointed at his face. “You’re starting to scare me... getting me to think... you can’t be trusted,” Bob was stood straight, his face held straight. “You won’t do it,” the hunter said nervously. “I was in ‘Nam, boy. I killed so many of those damn savages... I’m sure a lot of them weren’t VC,” the old mans face grew stern. The missing fat on his left cheek seemed to shadow over his anger.

The pickup truck sped along the street, passing zombies, cutting alleys. Mike, with his Remington on his lap, had a pissed-off attitude on his face. His brother abandoned him, what remained of his family, left him. Out of pure anger, Mike stomped on the gas and sent a zombie flying over the truck and left spewed about on the pavement behind them. Leon looked on nervously.

Leon had been busy, the whole time, tinkering with the radio to send out a message. So far, unsuccessful. Placing the radio back into the car’s dashboard, the dark-skinned police officer pulled out a small picture of a young woman, holding onto a baby. His eyes drooped in sadness at the picture, his head slowly dropping down following the drama. “I gotta find them...”

Elias clutched onto his fathers’ shotgun, the wind blowing profusely on his skin. This morning, he hadn’t had time to dress properly. He was still wearing the long black tank top and red flannel pajama bottoms. Other then the slippers, Elias had no time to pull on any coat or such. Goose bumps formed up and down his arms, spreading to his legs. His hair, which he had braided into cornrows not that long ago, was starting to change temperature, making his situation worse. Although enjoying the ride, the fact of the situation was not that comforting.

“Alright guys,” Mike spoke, as the truck stopped. “We are going to need to find a place to hide. For now, we should gather food,”. Mike pointed to the Cumberland Farms gas station they had parked in front of. “I’ll fill the tank.” Elias jumped out of the truck and entered the gas station. The heater was still on even after its’ occupants had left. Behind the counter, someones jacket was left on a chair along with a playboy magazine. Something wasn’t quite right here, but then again there was a zombie attack happening so nothing was ever quite right at the moment. Putting the jacket on, Elias pulled out the bags under the counter and handed a few of them to Leon.

As the two filled the bags with food, Mike stood shaking in the cold as he refilled the empty gas cannister. Turning his head, slightly, Mike was startled to see a Dunkin Doughnuts with the lights on across the street. Inside an employee was randomly walking around aimlessly. His impulses of the coffee shop sent his running across the street.

Time: 7:30 PM


Putting the bags of food in the back of the truck, both Leon and Elias looked around for any sign of Mike. “Where’d did what’s-his-name go?” Elias said bluntly. “Mike?” Leon asked back. Looking at the cop with a raised eyebrow, they both noticed the Dunkin Doughnuts across the street. “Fuck,” they both bluntly spoke.

Rushing across the street, Elias with his shotgun, they both kicked in the door in and looked inside with disbelief. A zombie female lay on the ground, with a chunk of her head missing, and Mike standing across the counter drinking a fresh cup of coffee. “H-hey guys,” he said. “Scared the shit out of us, Mike.” Leon exclaimed with relief. But his sigh of relief turned into a gasp. Mike had numerous bite marks on his body. “Mike your-“ Leon spoke, interrupted by Mike. “Fine... ‘Tis only a flesh wound! Ha ha,”. Mike collapsed onto the counter, wallowing in pain. Leon, hopping over the counter, helped him back to his feet. “Damn. Kid, go get some napkins,” Leon said quickly. Running to a napkin dispenser, Elias pulled out every napkin in the small dispenser and helped Leon dress the wound. “He’s gonna need some professional help; think that Lowell general is safe?” Leon said quickly. Shrugging, and with look of disbelief on his face, Leon looked left and right out the window until his eyes reached what could have been heaven.

Not that far from the Dunkin Doughnuts was a Walmart and Supermarket connected. Running out the door with Mike on his shoulder, Elias followed close behind. Instead of heading to the car, Elias saw the cop run the opposite direction. “Hey... Hey! Wait up!” Elias yelled at the speeding two. Picking up his shotgun case, Elias ran to follow. The doors to the supermarket were completely locked up, but te Walmart looked heavily barricaded, but not shut out from the outside. It looked like, in fact, there was a way to get in. As the three reached the entrance, the sound of guns broke the silence. Dozens of barrels aimed at them. “Dost thou breath? Or not?” a voice spoke. “Um... we breath?” Elias said with a stutter. “Dost thou-“ but before the voice could continue, it was interrupted by a stronger voice... a woman’s voice. “Fuck up, Red.” He voice had some New Zealand flavor in the words, but as soon as it paused, it struck again. “Any of ya bitten?” she was quick, and to the point. “One of us. Why?” Leon replied. “Whoever is bitten, keep them outside. The rest come in.” She blurted out.

“What?! Why?” Mike jolted, regaining consciousness. “I’m fine!”. “If your bitten then-” she was interrupted. A voice was rapidly whispering in her ear. “Alright, the zombies are coming close, get in,”. What was like a magic door, two vending machines parted like the red sea and revealed a bunch of human survivors. Each armed with a weapon. Two men, one of whom dressed like a Walmart employee, forced the three inside as the magic doors closed. The building was well developed, and filled with many survivors. “How’d y’all know to come here?” Mike asked. The employee responded simply. “Come on... it’s Walmart. We have enough shit here to supply an army.”

 

[Enishi]

Time: 7:50 P.M.

Indeed the woman was right when she said that the zombies were close. Not long after the threesome were let in, the vending machines were being pounded on like the victim of a horny dog. As a couple of survivors held the vending machines together, other survivors retrieved wooden planks and nails. As the vending machines were secure, many of the injured survivors were carried to a warehouse that linked Walmart and the supermarket together.

Any survivor that could stand sported some sort of weapon and stood by the doors. As Elias gazed at the doomed civilians, they reminded him of the kids from the movie ‘Red Dawn’. Everyone looked like a militia. Those who did not have a gun held wooden 2x4's, garden scythes, hammers, metal shelves, fire extinguishers, etc. The vending machines began to rumble.

As Elias pulled the shotgun out of his case, closing the case after the job was done, he slowly aimed at where the vending machines were rumbling. A familiar voice broke the sound of banging. It was the New Zealander. “Alright, shit bags, listen up.” Her voice, although brutish and demanding had no similarities with the body it matched. She was a short woman, proboly 5'4, with long blonde hair tied into braids, with a thin figure. Her chocolate-colored eyes narrowed as she walked past the shaking milita. The 9mm in her left hand was held tightly, and twitching somewhat. “I want you to hold the line here... don’t move an inch or I’ll shoot you myself. If you don’t have a gun, then step behind those who do. When the zombies get close enough, swing as hard as you can. Don’t expect me to carry your ass when one of them bite your shin out.” As those without guns stepped behind those who did, everyone took aim.

The vending machines were slowly beginning to rock back and forth, the wooden planks falling out of place. Everyone was shaking in nervousness. Time seemed slower, the sounds of the attackers were getting louder, and the hungry moans of those who fell pierced the sound of the machines. The group of gun users were comprized not of the young and proud; no, it was everyone; young and old; man and woman; parents and children.

The machines were brought down; the waves of withered and recently dead poured in twords the survivors. Everything was silent. Even when the triggers were pulled, even when the people screamed, even when the zombies got close and those without guns used what they had got their hands on charged forth upon them, even when humans fell, Elias fought on. He saw as the valiant New Zealander ran out of bullets and attacked the zombies head on, and watched her fall, he saw Mike, the injured hunter, holding off dozens of zombies by himself, even when the bullets ran out; this was the human spirit; this is what drove us; what killed us.

Time: 8:15 P.M.

 

[Enishi]

Leon, who helped aid those injured into the warehouse, looked on as the humans shot and killed many zombies, as the surivors began to fall. When many fell back to the warehouse door, Elias stood in place, reloading his shotgun, whacking zombies down with the butt of his shotgun, blowing their heads like balloons, not getting bitten in the slightest. As those with guns ran inside the warehouse, Leon attempted to push them aside and get back into the Walmart to help the young man, but the next gun holder who rushed in slammed the door and locked it behind him. The last glimpse of Elias, Leon saw, was Elias looking back towards him. Leon attempted to push the others out of the way to help the young man, but others had already began to barricade the exit. Collapsing on the ground, Leon figured in his mind that he had lost another person. He just couldn’t save anyone.

Once a secure barricade was created, Leon sat on top of a box. After the door was locked, the sounds of the gun shooting was slowly drowned out as the gurgles of the zombies increased. Holding a 9mm, almost out of bullets, Leon rested his forehead firmly on the cold steel. He continued to dwindle on Elias’s and Mike’s loss. These two men who he secretly vowed to protect, after looking at his photograph of his wife and baby son, had died and he could do nothing to stop it.

To make matters worse, many of the injured survivors, who had been bitten were starting to show signs of the red-dressed woman from earlier. Most of their constitution was strong, allowing them a more forceful fight against the virus, but others were falling quickly. At this point he didn’t care. He figured he was as good as dead anyway.

Time: 8:55 P.M.

At the hotel, the group of five were looking as zombies willingly passed the hotel and headed in the direction in which the local Walmart was located. “Look at that! Ha ha! They’re just passing by!” Eric exclaimed. He was literally jumping with joy as the zombies clearly skipped the fat man for a more easier meal. Old man Bob, who was getting room keys from the front desk, had retrieved a couple of keys, unfortunatly not a lot. “Alright, litsen up. I could only find a couple of keys. Which means we’ll need to share rooms. Me and Ann will take the room on the top floor...” old woman Ann walked next to her husband and held onto the key they would keep. “Eric, you and Tabatha,” Bob pointed to the young teenager, “Will share the room on this floor. I don’t trust you,” Bob pointed to the other hunter, “so, my tuxedo-dressed friend, you will need to be baby sitter.” “What?! I can take care of myself! I’m sixteen! I’m-” Tabatha was cut off by Eric. “Alright, give me the key, I’ll lock her in the room for now.” Eric, taking the key and grasping Tabatha’s thin arm, pulled the young teenager to the room not close by here. “Hunter... whatever the hell your name is, you get the room on the second floor.” Bob tossed the key towards the hunter. “Great... all by myself.” The group split up with Bob, Ann, and the other hunter taking the elevator, and Eric yanking a frustrated Tabatha to the room.

Once she was inside the room, Eric tossed her onto the bed. “What’s the big idea, pops?!” She yelled. Massaging his forehead, Eric began to pace. “Look here, young lady, at the moment, I don’t want to take your shit! I’ve got enough of a headache.” Pounding his hand on the hardwood tabletop. The middle-aged adult, started to grunt. He lost his chance to get some romance with the young woman from the gun store and this annoying brat was not helping.

Tabatha would not shut up. She just keep yapping her head off, complaining about the hotel, and how she wish she could have stayed in the same room as the ‘hot guy’, reguarding to the hunter. Eric was starting to reach his breaking point. This brat would not shut up. Finally, he lost it. Using all his strength, Eric delivered a strong slap to the young woman’s face. The slap, so hard, knocked her across the bed, and clapsing the stinging pain in her cheek.

Eric, now staring at the hurt girl, started to get... excited. Jumping onto the bed, Eric spread Tabatha’s legs and held her arms on the bed as she kicked and screamed. Little did he know, the zombies had noticed to two in the window and was repeatedly hitting it, causing it to slowly break. As Tabatha fought, Eric slowly fell more to his animal instincts. Trying his best to yank his pants off, he was so focused, he ignored the sound of the window shattering and the zombies falling inside and slowly walking twords. As soon as he was able to pull his pants down, he was just about to pull down his underwear when a zombie dug it’s teeth into his shoulder. Yelling in pain, Eric staggard back and fell to the ground as the zombies began to pile on top of him. One zombie dug it’s teeth so deep into his belly, that when it yanked its’ head back all of the skin, that covered his intestines, was ripped off, sending him in immense pain.

As Eric was being torn to shreds, Tabatha ran from the bed and swung the door wide open then ran outside, shutting the door. Curled up on the ground, she began to break out into a crying rage. Tears streaming like flooded rivers, and saliva shooting out of her mouth like a cannon. She could still hear Eric scream as they finished him off.

At the top floor, Bob sat in a reclining chair, his colt .44 sitting on his lap. He could hear the echoing of the mans screams through the air ventilator. Signs were not looking good. Old Ann had lost too much of her hearing to notice the screams. As she happily cooked eggs on a frying pan, she hummed the songs to “Hound Dog”.

The hunter, who had heard the screams from the hallways while taking a soda from a vending machine, rushed to the stairs and flew down them to the first floor. Once on the first floor, he rushed to where Eric and Tabatha were staying and saw Tabatha crying outside the room. Picking her up in his arms, the hunter helped her to the parking garage was located. He had lost hope for Bob. As the reached the parking garage, there were a few zombies, slowly walking twords them. Luckily, they had speed. As the rushed to the nearest car, which had the keys inside and a body on the outside, the two started the car and drove off.

Bob looked outside the window and saw the Saab take off, into the wild streets outside. His old and whithered eyes watched on in disapointment as zombies found their way through the parking garage and into the building. His old face turned to his wife, who seemed without a care. Should he kill her now and end the suffering ahead? No. Walking over to his wife, and putting the gun down on the table, he turned her around and placed one hand around her waist and another in her hand. He proceeded to dance.

Even for such an old man, in his seventies, he could dance like a young man. And as they danced, a hidden song played in their heads that seemed to make the room look more like a dance floor. The band men played their instruments repectivly, other dancers joined in happily, and the days of old came back. For hours they danced, ignoring the pain in their joints and the stress it caused. After three hours of dancing, the two layed down on the king-sized bed and fell asleep. They were both out of their mind, tired. “Honey?” Old Ann asked softly. “Yes, my sweet, sweet buttercup?” Old Bob asked back. “When we wake up... I want to dance again... I want to dance until I can’t anymore...” With a smile, Eric cuddled close with his wife and both fell asleep. They had both died of a heart attack, and yet danced on until they could not.

Time: 6:00 A.M.

Morning crept up like a stubborn child. The hunter and Tabatha had both spent the night in the car, huddled close together in the back seat. They had driven all the way to the northern coast of Maine to escape the madness. On the beaches of the shore had they driven. Behind them, the government had instituted a Lockdown of New England, but had neglected to lock off the beaches. Maine, however, was a lucky state; the zombie infection had reached Vermont and was stopped at the border. Looking at the sun rising, Tabatha looked to the hunter, who was just barely awake. “Morning my knight in shining armor...” she uttered. “Please... call me Jake.”

<div align="center">End of Part One</div>

 

[Enishi]

Comments are welcome

I'll be leaving this morning...

 

[Enishi]

Anything?

 

[Enishi]

<div align="center">Part Two: Plague</div>

Three months have passed since the New England zombie infestation began. The state of Massachusetts and Rhode Island are completely infested with the undead, while Vermont is slowly building up a resistance front. Vermont is still a dangerous area. New Hampshire and Connecticut are partially safe, with it’s warnings of the attacks ahead of time. With buildings fortified and weapons gathered, the two states serve as a safe passage to escapees. Maine, on the other hand, is currently safe with a strong blockade at its’ borders. In order to contain the apocalyptic event, current US President Hera Don, the second female US president, has declared martial law and instituted a gigantic lock-down on the area of New England. Those stuck on the beaches would be retrieved by US army helicopters immediately and taken to a disclosed area.

They would be executed as terrorists, and President Don would be considered a hero to the American people.


2 Months until Military 'Clean-Up'
Time: 10:00 A.M.

He was pushing to get through the terrified survivors. He could barely see the man, he knew as Elias, fighting off hordes of the undead with his shotgun. But as he got close enough to the door, two survivors had already begun the barricade to the door. There was nothing he could do. Sitting on a box, with a 50 inch plasma flatscreen TV inside, he saw as other survivors, with infected bites, begin to transform into zombies. Low on ammo, he sat with the thought he was going to die.

Leon opened his eyes slowly from the memory/dream and took in the sunlight around. Three months ago, he was a simple police officer with a wife and five-month-old son and had a nice house. Life was good. But now, he was a survivor without a family. Three months ago, he saw his two companions fall without confirmation of their death. No zombie, or chewed corpse.

Although originally dressed in a police uniform on the infection day, Leon Ferghuson had a rapid appearance change. He was now dressed in a pair of cargo pants, a white tee, a pair of black boots, and a kevlar. His cleanly shaven head was now beginning to grow hair, but still buzzed. His face had grown a goatee and his eyes showed signs of sleeplessness. In his hand was a Remington shotgun, fully loaded, and around him was a makeshift fortress.

Over the three months of survival, Leon had taken the role of leader. He gathered dozens of survivors and formulated plans to ensure their safety. Using a restaurant/motel, Leon built a fortress from the ruins of the town he escaped to. Sending out patrols to gather other survivors and weapons, Leon took the place of the president as Commander and Chief of the newly formed group, the “Survivors of New England”. For weeks, the survivor rate would build, and weapons and supplies would double. People looked to him as their savior.

“Sir ” Leon was slightly rocked from the sound of a survivor’s voice. Turning his head slightly, Leon looked upon a thirteen year-old boy, dressed in a hunter’s camouflage and a baseball bat on his shoulder. The boy had scars from the nails of a zombie on his face and hands. This boy stood like a soldier of a man, yet had the body of a child. “At ease, young man.” Leon said with a smile. “What is it?” he asked warmly. Leon treated all of the people in the group like his own family. If they panicked, he calmed them, if they cried, he gave his shoulder, if they bit, he bled. “Sir Patrol A has come back with something you should see. It’s a videotape.” The kid held out his hand. In it, was clutched a plastic case holding a VHS tape. Gently taking the tape from the boys’ hand, Leon gave a head bow as the boy walked away.

The group was comprised of all ages, young to old. Leon felt that everyone should fight for their freedom against the growing horde of zombies, no matter how young, or tall. The group seemed to bond like all humans do; children would play, adults would form relationships, children would slowly develop inside the womb.

Walking to a simple TV, Leon inserted the tape into the player and watched the results. The tape started with the cameraman rushing through an apartment stairway, obviously fatigued by two cases he carried. The cameraman reached the roof, where a helicopter was about to take off. A young man, dressed casually, sat inside. Rushing to the chopper, the cameraman placed his cases inside. The other man inside the helicopter took a picture of the cameraman.

After a couple of hours, Leon saw the casually dressed man introduce himself, and watched as the helicopter took off into the sky. The film showed apocalyptic events happening around the setting. Leon recognized the city as the place where the infection first spread; his home town. Eventually, the cameraman was forced to jump out of the helicopter when a military chopper began to attack the three men. The cameraman landed on the roof of a gun store, the video camera zooming as the military chopper chased the other helicopter away. The tape ended.

Leon was paralyzed with shock when he realized who the cameraman was. It was Elias. Memories flashed before his eyes of Elias with the video camera, taking videos of the inside of the gun shop, of the car dealership, and finally the Walmart. Jumping out of the chair, Leon ran to the boy and grabbed his shoulders, his eyes shaking in excitement. “Who gave you this tape?” he asked quickly. Obviously scared by his leader’s harsh reaction to the tape, the boy only pointed to a group of middle-aged men, each with a shotgun over their shoulders. Rushing over to the group, Leon interrupted the conversation. “Where did you find this tape? ” Leon shook the tape at the surprised men, his eyes darting to each of them. “Well? ” “Well... we found it in the remains of the nearby town... by the ruins of the old Walmart, I believe.” One of the old man said. He was an old fellow, he had a cherry red face with a plump nose and round beer gut. He had a rough beard and eyebrows that had enough hair to cover the belly of a moose. His hazel eyes seemed dull, and restless, and his face was grimaced. “Can you take me there ?” Leon bursted out of joy and excitement. “Are you kiddin’? We were overwhelmed as soon as we drove in There were dozens of ‘em You’d have to be out of yer fuckin’ mind to go there ” He shouted. Grabbing the man by the throat, Leon narrowed his eyebrows and began to squeeze. “Listen to me, fat ass, I don’t care how many zombies were there, you are taking me to that Walmart or I’ll shoot you on the spot ” The middle-aged man was shocked, and scared by the sudden action performed by their leader. Raising his hands, he began to shiver. “Fine, fine ”

Sitting inside a stripped down limousine, Leon and several others remained armed with shotguns and plenty of ammunition drove into the town. What had once been a bustling, enjoyable place to be had turned into a gray ghost town, devoid of all life. Members of the team included Leon, the middle-aged man named Toby, a teenager named Darren, a young woman named Tina, a man named Terrence, and another, more bulk female, named Jezebel. Each dressed with a kevlar, and each armed with a shotgun. As the limo pulled up to the Walmart, the area ‘infested with zombies’ was completely empty. Not even a mouse scurried around the floor.

Everyone, except for Darren, got out of the car and walked inside the store. Walking into the middle of the store, Toby stood in an area where dust had a clean square. “Well, this ‘ere,” he pointed at the ground, “is where I found the tape.” Leon took careful steps to observe the area. He took in the surroundings with a tough burden. Blood and brain matter splashed many places on floors and walls where the first battle took place. Bloody footsteps walked twords where the first tape was located. A shelf, also with spots of blood, was violently shake from its’ original location, but not too far. Not too far from the shelf was a large air vent, with it’s door ripped off. Climbing the shelf and entering the vent, the others followed close behind, Jezebel and Toby staying behind. “I ain’t goin no farther. I showed you the location of the tape, so now I’m done. Heading back to the car, Jezebel also shouted to Leon. “Sorry, Lee’. I won’t fit in the duct, I’ll go make sure the car is safe for your departure. With an unseen nod inside the vent, Leon, Tina and Terrence crawled through the dead air vent.

For a little while, Leon was thinking about turning around and quitting the expedition, but then he saw it; the end of the duct. Where the duct had broken down was another tape. Crawling and picking up the tape, Leon placed the video tape into a plastic cover, taken from the fortress. A grim sign told him to look down, and sure enough, a large, dried up pool of blood lay against the wall.

 

[Ser Yorick]

To be truthful, I didn't really like the premise to begin with, so I probably have a bit of a bias in saying this.

I didn't really like it. Don't get me wrong, it was well written, good grammar and spelling, and you painted a pretty clear picture, I just didn't like the story itself.

Oh, and for "Part Two: Plauge", you made a small typo which I'm sure was unintentional, lol. It's plague.

 

[Enishi]

At least somone had the balls to say they didn't like it. Thank you for the critique, I wrote the title for part two at the last second.

 

[Enishi]

Time: 11:30 A.M.

Jumping down, despite what Tina and Terrence warned, Leon followed the blood footprints from the, now identified, grocery store. Strangely, the footprints walked at a rather rushed pace; almost as if following something. Of course, following their leader, the two young kept their lever-action shotguns at the ready. Leon, who had followed the footprints to devoured corpse, was holding another tape. This one had a patch of blood on it. Stuffing it into a plastic case, then placing it in his bag, Leon was knocked down by a cold, pale being. Much of his face had been eaten, exposing a lot of muscle, and one of his eyes dangled from its’ maggot filled socket.

It lurched on top of the fallen Leon, biting furiously yet missing his target. Leon barely held the creature back as it inched closer towards his neck. Before the rotted teeth could pierce the dark skin of the former cop, a blast echoed in the air and the hungry zombie froze before collapsing onto the shaken male. Tossing the corpse off his chest, Leon gave an angry groan. Parts of the zombies skin and skull material had gotten on his face and clothes, leaving a rather pungent smell.

The smoking barrel of the Remington shotgun was held firmly in Tina’s hand. Terrence, who had been staving off a freshly revived zombie, was now cleaning up the blood and skin off his clothes as well. “Sorry there, chum. Seems like Tina handled things here...” Terrence said promptly. His thick English accent was one of the few distinguishing characteristics that singled him from others in the group.

Terrence had traveled from England to the US on a little tour of New England. Of course, when the infection started, he and others were stuck in the airport. He had escaped when a large zombie group broke in and attacked the trapped rats.

 

[Enishi]

Back at the car, Darren blasted the music of a rapper from five years ago. His head bobbed back and forth, with the baseball cap worn backwards and the white bandanna underneath shown obvious. Toby, getting pissed at the teenager, banged harder on the glass to get his attention. When Darren looked towards him, he could barley make out ‘open the door’. Once he unlocked the door, the fat man sat down and immediatly began demanding things. “Do you have any food? I’m starving. I’m thirsty too, give me some of that water... TURN DOWN THE MUSIC!” spit flew from his mouth, some getting in his shaggy beard, in his rage. “Get me out of here! I wanna finish up that sandwich I had back at the tent.” Darren simply shoke his head as he turned the music up. Veins rushing blood in his head, Toby pulled out a colt six shooter and aimed at the teenager’s head. But before he could speak, Jezebel had her shotgun aimed at his head. “Drop the gun, wideload,” She was quite fierce while she spoke. Turning himself around, Toby gave a fierce hit at Jezebel with the but of the revolver. Getting out of the car, he pointed the gun’s barrel at her head and held an arm out. “That nice Remington, if you please.” But before he could take the weapon, a zombified girl launched herself at his ribs and bit what she could. As he yelped in pain, Jezebel pushed him aside and jumped inside the car, locking the door. “Quick, to the grocery store entrance.”.

Leon, Terrence and Tina walked out of the grocery store, through the destroyed entrance and noticed the armored limo waiting for them. “Quick! Get it!” Darren yelled from the inside.

Time: 12:59 P.M.

As the car jetted on the streets, Leon gazed at the video tapes he had collected. Surprizingly not broken, considdering the amount of hell and death that had been going on, each tape was surprizingly kept preserved except for one tape that had a slight splash of blood.

 

[Enishi]

For hours he pondered this. When watching the cameras, he was amused by the sight of him only a few months ago. But as time passed in the videos, it got to the time of where the warehouse doors were locked. Leon leaned forward as the video continued to play.

It showed Elias as well as others attempting in vein to break open the barricaded door to no avail. Mike the hunter had already been completely overwhelmed by the zombies, and was far from dead. What remained of the group was fighting to get on top of the shelves. Woman and children were hoisted as the men held the zombies off. However, when the shelves began to be toppled over, the woman and children were becoming fast food. The camera paniced, but zoomed in on an air vent near a more sturdy shelf. Rushing the group over, Elias climbed onto the shelf and shot the vent open. As the camera entered the shaft, soon others began to follow. More and more got into the vent as others were eaten.

Leon watched in amazement as Elias lead the group from the Walmart into the vent and into the grocery store while the people in the warehouse were fighting off infected survivors. Leon leaned in closer and closer, Elias beginning to forumlate a plan, when the video stopped. He was left at a cliff hanger...