Knight of the Dead (Book 3): Fortress

by Ron Smorynski

  "Come on!" Dad yelled.

  Lena and Lisa dealt with several behind them. Randall tried to help but was unsure what to do.

  Dad had a moment, a stupid moment. He saw more solar panels. "Hah, looky there!" he yelled to no one. He burst through a back gate next to a garage. It was set back from the street facing the school. The driveway looked clear. He marched forward. The school doors were just across the street.

  The people were screaming and terrified. There was no calming them. One leapt up turned into a zombie, hissing with its new senses. Lena and Lisa hacked it apart before the eyes of the other survivors who knew him. Several screamed in a series of horrific revelations, from his gory death, to his monstrous rise, then to see him butchered all within seconds. One fainted. Another ran off, never to be seen again.

  Randall waved for them to keep going. "Come on! Keep going!"

  Amador yanked at his wife and children. She wanted to cower behind some bushes forever. The others screamed as they stumbled forward. Several helped the fainted one, sobbing and screaming. They were calling for the other. Dad could not discern the name amidst the hoarse wails.

  "We gotta move!" he yelled, to stop their blustering attempt to save whomever fled.

  Steve had had enough. His swings were slower and his body spent. He collided against everything: the trash bins, the garage wall, cars. His psyche was spent. He held his sword with a bent wrist.

  Upon the street, a horde had gathered. Where were they coming from? Dad growled and charged forward. The horde turned and charged up the driveway. Dad slammed into them, bursting them like bowling pins. He fell forward, stumbling step after step, then slamming down against another large one! The giant zombie twirled him as he fell. He rolled out of reach. He could just see the silhouette of the thing as he jostled to get back up.

  The armor and padding did its job. His body felt solid slamming against concrete and zombies. They were tough impacts, but no stunning or scraping shots of pain. He rammed against a low curbing where the yard leveled and the driveway went down to the street. It gave him a handhold and he quickly braced gauntlet, shield and elbow to stand.

  He didn't have a moment as zombies crashed into him. He felt bites upon his leg armor and arms. He pushed over the curb and onto the yard. He turned swinging wildly. His sword did its job. He didn't know how many he sliced through but it was definitely the entire first wave of zombies. He reoriented as they tripped over the curb and one another. He didn't know if he was helping the group back up the driveway or not, but he fought furiously nonetheless.

  He wanted to kill them all. He wanted to kill every last zombie in the world. He sliced and shield whacked, stepping back with controlled killing swings.

  Then the zombies opened up and the big one stepped up. It lumbered with thick fists and a thick head. It wore some sort of business suit, torn and decayed. Where did these types come from? Were they evolving? Were they cursed demonic zombies?

  Dad wanted to pull out his .45. He still held his sword and shield. The zombies were grabbing at him, trying to tug them away. The big guy was nearly upon him. He didn't have the room or space to release his gauntlet to then fiddle inside his armor and yank the handgun out.

  The large zombie grabbed at him. Dad knew it was going to throw him down. Its head burst open as it hit him like a wall of bricks. Then he heard the crack bang of the M-4 and chuckled to himself, "Nice shot."

  The beast fell on him but he managed to hold his ground as the thick-weighted flesh scraped and dropped next to him.

  All the zombies stood a moment, as if losing their leader. Dad glanced to and fro as they stood stunned or confused. He was confused. But he could sense their automated zombie instincts rising again. He swung to and fro, marching into them: heads flew, necks opened, blood and guts oozed.

  Lena and Lisa made headway down the drive way. They were puncturing heads and slicing necks. They stood side to side, punching out, then slicing down, retracting, then punching out again. Their piercing punches were fast and effective. They most definitely had that muscle memory. They sliced down on heads quickly. They punched out violently. It was a twirl of strikes as layer after layer of zombies dropped. Randall came up to one side, taking on one or two, to their flank.

  Steve finally joined on the other. Both weren't needed much as they did their best. Steve’s swings were a mess but he could at least push them with his frothing anger. He wouldn't last long using his uncontrolled movements.

  Dad trudged forward. There were still hundreds of zombies along the street. They couldn't get through this. More were coming from both sides, fast ones, slow ones.

  Where was Sean, Dad wondered? But it wouldn't matter now. He could lead some off, but more could easily fill the area.

  He then saw Charlotte stand atop the roof waving at others. Nick got up there with kids in tow. He ran to her carrying another rifle. It was the AK-47. Maggy and Sophia held extra magazines. Charlotte quickly showed Nick how to use it. He got it. Both raised their rifles.

  Charlotte said something to the kids. They covered their ears. She began firing full auto into the mass of zombies crowded on the street. Nick suddenly opened up. It was incredibly loud and smoked profusely. The crackle thunder of their guns ripped apart the crowd of zombies. One after the other burst apart in the head, through the neck, across the chest, crumpling arms and legs. It was a mess of violent ripping destruction.

  Dad couldn't help but stop and stare. The zombies seemed to stop as well. The blasting sound took over the entire block. It cracked in thunderous explosive waves that drowned out the zombies alert and awareness noises.

  It was like repetitive thunder cracks. The horde of zombies was ripped apart: heads exploded, shoulders ruptured, and bodies split and crumpled. Zombie's crumpled two, three, dozens in the group.

  The sounds suddenly stopped. Dad looked up. Charlotte popped out the magazine and was handed another, punched it in, and charged it. Her fingers slipped. Dad snarled. She grabbed it more firmly and did it right. Maggy grabbed the dropped magazine and began reloading it.

  Carl handed Nick another magazine. He copied Charlotte. She said things to him, directions, mimed her actions. He hurriedly complied. He figured it out. Charlotte nodded. They opened up again.

  The zombie horde didn't get a chance to recover, as the hail of blasting bullets ripped the horde apart more and more. The bullets ripped apart heads, hands, legs, dropping them one after the other.

  Dad realized in his dizzy state of over-saturated sensory aggravation he had to move. He yelled amidst the thunder crack of gunfire while slicing away the zombies on the driveway, "Move!!!" He waved them toward him in the yard and away from the driveway and horde of zombies.

  They hurried along as the firing slowed to bursts. They had the whole group of defenseless survivors rush with them across the street. The horde was decimated even as more were coming. The thick of it was blown to pieces with ragged zombies squirming and crawling in confused states. They had a moment.

  Dad sliced a path amidst the grounded zombies. It was a mess of disfigured bodies. Lena and Lisa did the same with their naginatas, like swinging sickles low at harvest time. Randall, Steve and Amador led the frightened group along the gory path.

  They got to the school's front entrance way. Tom opened the doors immediately and the weakest among them flew in, falling and slamming down upon the school floor.

  Dad turned to keep fighting. Only a few zombies managed to get at them for the moment. More came from the other side, opposite the gun blasted crowd. Dad met them on. They were spread out enough for him to hold them off. Lena and Lisa flanked the doors as the last of the survivors made it in.

  "Come on Dad!" Lena howled.

  He cut and hacked as he backed to them. The zombies were reforming, crowding again, stomping over the crawling mutilated ones.

  Charlotte and Nick kept firing at the crowding ones.

  Dad yelled out, "Cease fire! Cease fire!"

  Eventually they
did.

  They got into the front doors as the zombies slammed against them en masse. They immediately cracked the glass of the windows and knocked off the boards covering them. Their frightening noises echoed throughout the school corridors but the steel doors and wired meshes held.

  "Everyone get to the upstairs and hide quietly!" Tom said.

  "They're everywhere? What do we do?" Randall cried.

  Dad looked at Steve. He was exhausted. He fought well and hard, but he was not used to so much fighting, so much stress mentally and physically. He had done so much before and now this. Was he recovering or succumbing? Dad wasn't sure now. Steve may not be as tough as Dad had hoped. It was something that had to be built up over time but in Steve's case, perhaps it went too far too fast. Randall showed signs of that strain too. Dad knew he'd never be a vicious melee fighter. He did well considering the situation.

  Everyone stared at Dad who was lost in that sad thought.

  Lena and Lisa stood tall, ready to do anything. Lena tapped Dad's shoulder pauldron with her naginata.

  "We are under siege," was all Dad could say.

  10. Siege

  The survivors were shaking and frightened. Amador, his wife, and two children were there. His wife screamed in wretched hysteria. The boy and girl hugged each other. Amador looked desperately amongst the survivors. At first, Dad wasn't sure what he was doing. They cried as Amador rushed to the doors but he stopped, stunned. He stared at the mass of zombies banging against them, knocking down the coverings and cracking the glass on the windows, with pieces falling to the ground.

  Dad looked at Amador’s wife and realized in her frothing hysteria that one of their children was missing.

  "We've got to get them to go away. We've got to hide!" Tom yelled. He motioned, helping to get them up.

  Dad's wife, Beth, and Katrina nervously came out to help. The moaning of the horde permeated all of their souls, wracking their nerves with fear. Dad blinked in his drenched sweat. He saw Lena. He saw Lisa. They stood tall.

  He turned, lifting his visor. "Tom! Stop!" he ordered.

  Tom looked unsure as he lifted a weak survivor.

  "Stop!" Dad growled, raising his sword and tapping Katrina. She flinched and cowered to his wife. Beth stared, frozen as she was helping another up.

  "Get back!" Dad waved his wife and the women off. "Get back!" He yelled at them and to Tom.

  Dad looked at Amador. "Drop your sword, your weapon. Now!"

  Amador stared out at the groaning devilish zombies. He said something macabre and cursed in Spanish. It sounded guttural and demonic.

  "Amador!" Dad yelled. "AMADOR!!!"

  Amador finally heard, snot and tears rolling down a bloated red face. He turned his whole body like a stiff bloodied zombie toward Dad.

  "Drop your weapons!" Dad said, raising and pointing his sword at Amador.

  "What are you doing?" Tom asked.

  The survivors cried and wailed. Amador dropped his weapons and shuffled over to his wife and two children who sobbed.

  "We have to check them for bites! Amador, all of them," Dad had to yell, above the moans of the banging zombies against the firm steel doors.

  "Here? Now?" Tom cringed.

  Dad spotted Jerry and Julianne down the corridor, cowering. Julianne gulped. Jerry tried to gather courage to approach but couldn't. Dad didn't mean to stare at them, but he was thinking beyond them. He was thinking momentarily of the heat and exhaustion that was overcoming him. He was thinking of the desperate situation and of the sobbing survivors. He was envisioning one of them suddenly scowling and gnashing teeth, within these safe corridors, upon his wife, upon the children as they helped.

  "Right now! Tom! Do it!" Dad turned, spitting as he spoke. "We're all exhausted. You do it. Be aware! Be aware! Do it!" Dad yelled as he motioned for Tom, who skulked. "Check for bites!"

  Steve suddenly approached. Dad turned with his blade at Steve's throat. Steve stared wide eyed as he sheathed his sword. "I'll help."

  Dad lowered his sword yet glared blankly as they looked at the survivors who all cried and cringed. An old lady stood up. She had blood on her hands.

  Dad raised his sword. She raised her hands defenseless. "It's not my blood. It's my son's."

  Dad kept his sword raised. The cries of his wife, Beth, and Katrina could be heard.

  The lady showed her arms. She undid her loose, torn blouse, revealing her breasts and back. She revealed her legs quickly and stepped closer to Dad. He seethed and was going to swing at her.

  "Thank you, for saving us," she finally said. She didn't stare long at him, as she went to help Tom and Steve check the others. She examined Amador as he stared at Dad. It was at first an evil stare but as she rubbed him, it turned to one of gratitude, exhaustion, and utter sadness.

  The old lady had to rub along Amador's bloodied arms. Amador sniffled as she did. She rubbed his back and his blood splattered legs as he stood and stared at Dad. She nodded to Dad he was good. She quickly looked at his children and wife. She raised them from the floor and motioned for them, in their sobbing, to go with Amador.

  She, Tom, and Steve cleared them all. Tom and Steve stepped away. The old lady stood in front of Dad. "We're all clear. No bites." She said, standing as best she could, trying to hold back a tragic wail.

  His wife, Beth, and Katrina immediately took them away. Jerry and Julianne came to help.

  Dad stared at Julianne a moment. His look was one of "I'm in charge." She looked down.

  "You two, go help them. Get them water, food," he ordered. They nodded and complied. "Get us water and food first," he added.

  "We gotta get away from these doors," Tom said, the only one there not exhausted.

  Tom led them down to the principal's office. Benjamin met them there.

  "Anyone hurt?" Benjamin asked, as they all sat on the corridor benches. It was merely one turn from the entrance. Tom kept on eye on the front corridor while everyone collapsed to the floor. He couldn't see the doors directly, but if they broke, he'd see them shuffle in.

  "No one was bit," Steve answered.

  "I mean hurt, hurt! Anyone hurt? You can still get cuts and scrapes. Best to clean them up and bandage them," Benjamin replied. "Anyone feel achy? I can start some cold packs. Don't want any swelling joints. Nasty nasty, lasts a long time!"

  Dad felt his ankles, his knees. He'd be stiff for sure. But nothing screamed or even teased of a pang that could turn into a swelling, at least as far as he could tell.

  Charlotte came down the stairs. "Dad!"

  Dad stood on the roof. The entire area was filled with zombies. They were banging on the fences. When they saw him clamber up to the rooftop, their voices rose in a strange crescendo of excitement.

  But he stood nonetheless and stared out. The children were there, on the verge of crying but keeping it down, gasping.

  Charlotte looked at him glum, holding her rifle.

  Nick was with them. He sniffed a bit, holding the AK-47. Dad noticed. Nick looked back. Dad nodded, Nick nodded back.

  The others begrudgingly came out to the side exit. They could easily see the mass of them past the parking lot, along the schoolyard fences. They were three or four deep, and more were slowly coming. Where they all came from wasn't clear. But their buzzing sound was like an alarm system, alerting others. It was a chain reaction that called far and wide.

  "Nick, did you charge up my bike? The one we got?"

  "Yep."

  "It runs?"

  "Yep."

  "Guess I'm going for a ride," Dad said.

  "You can do it Dad," Charlotte said nonchalantly, above the mass of buzzing.

  "Just so damn many, spread out..."

  "Well, at least it ain't The Horde," Charlotte reminded. "We can hide when you go."

  "Alright. And where's Sean, dammit? Did he make it?" Dad turned and looked down at Charlotte.

  She shrugged. She pointed back the other way. "He went that way. Far."

  11. A Ride
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br />   Dad got on his bike at the parking lot entrance. He was stiff. The zombies were crowding near him, five or six deep now. They were rattling the high chain-link fence. It was strong, but not that strong. He could see a few leaping zombies in the crowd, like the beginnings of a horde.

  He could hear the barking of Rondo cutting through the clamor of zombie masses. He came out even in his mangy malnourished form. He wasn't in the parking lot area. Dad closed that off with the interior gate. So Rondo barked along the other fencing adjacent the auditorium building, running to and fro. The kids tried calling Rondo to get back, but Rondo was furious. He ran up to the fence and barked like crazy. The zombies seemed confused near him. They jerked about as if trying to find the source of the noise. Each bark was resonating some kind of jamming audio pulse. The zombies twirled about each other and were not focused. It was interesting, but Dad had more important things to do right now.

  He stood up to peer down the schoolyard fencing. There was a large gate there that opened to the schoolyard. The zombies were passing by it, to get to where he was. He drove back to the inner gate. He wanted to call for help but saw them hiding at the windows and on the roof. None could help him. They were exhausted, scared, paralyzed in fear.

  His wife, Lena and Lisa came to the gate. He smiled in his helm, without them seeing.

  "What are you doing? How can we help?" his wife asked.

  Dad slowly looked at the mass of zombies near them, surrounding the fencing. Rondo was barking like crazy. "See the gate down in the schoolyard," Dad said, motioning.

  They nodded.

  "I'm going to rush over there, open it, get my bike through, and then I gotta close it. I have to, or they'll rush in on the whole place. It's the only gate not crowded."

  "What about the smaller one by the kindergarten? On the other side?" Lena asked.