by Bonds, Javan
The horrendous agony these women must’ve been experiencing was beyond words. It was like being drawn and quartered times ten. I have no idea how they were able to stay conscious while they watched their own fresh limbs being cleaned to the bone. It nearly makes me spew now, just thinking about those fucking monsters tearing apart joints to get to the chewy tendons and ligaments. It reminded me of the part in Sin City where Mickey Rourke meets Elijah Wood’s cannibal character.
Battle hardened; we NFOs sprayed our M4s at the coming throng of infected. I gave a spare pistol to our new ally who kept an eye on our six. Empty mag after empty mag of 5.56 dropped at our feet as we thinned the mass before us. Finally, we could see to the creeps bashing at the stacked filing cabinets inside the next destroyed door.
Enemies were ripped to shreds before us. The smell of feces and blood intermingled and almost overpowered our olfactory systems. Kyndle rapid fired her pistol while she screamed for her parents.
Through the door, we could make out several of the naked animals holding what must have been Ken to the ground on his side. He screamed and fought back as his head violently bounced against an aluminum desk. Just then, we noticed a filing cabinet on top of the desk being pushed to the edge. It was intended to fall on his head, crushing his skull and ending his life. The peevie pushing the filing cabinet was none other, than José.
“Daddy!” Kyndle launched herself forward, terrified for her father. She sent rounds at the revenants surrounding him, but to no avail.
José looked up and seemed to smile at the girl as the filing cabinet tipped over the edge. Ken probably didn’t feel the final blow as his face disappeared under the heavy metal container. Pumping blood rocketed from the still beating heart. The daughter of Ken Tims raved as she ran at José. The creature dropped and scooped something off the floor, near her mother’s bloody shirt, as its fellows scarfed up the hot remains.
Kyndle spit, cussed, and squeezed the trigger of her empty pistol at José. It ran straight at her as she ran at the large ghoul. She paid no attention to the living peevies around her, who in turn ignored her, realizing their leader had marked this prey.
I called for her and tried to get her to move out of the way. She was close enough now that the empty pistol flew out of her hand and bounced uselessly off José’s chest. Crashing into one another, they grappled before José spun her around and pressed what it had picked up from the floor earlier to her neck. A jagged piece of bone.
Realizing the blue team had lost this fight, José was trying to come out with its life. Kyndle froze when tiny rivulets of blood started spurting from her neck. Down to just our pistols, we couldn’t do anything more than wait and watch. José began backing to the exit, trying to escape without being defeated.
Pistols trained on the reanimated corpse and its human shield, we slowly followed it out the back door onto the tarmac. After a certain distance, José assumed the getaway would be easy. It ran the sharp piece of white bone across Kyndle Tims’s carotid and dropped her to the tarmac, her life blood pouring from her neck. Shots from my pistol went wide and came nowhere close to even scratching José.
In his rage Devin’s mind flashed.
The bathtub.
His sister.
A loss that had ripped his soul to its core.
“Taylor!” Devin screamed, throwing himself forward, not even bothering to fire his G19.
Grabbing the end of the logging chain that was over his shoulder, my copilot ran forward. Pulling it free, he drew his arm back and finally swung his chrome chain in an attempt to lasso the undead beast.
The chain whipped out wrapping around José’s neck, as if it had been choreographed. An unstoppable force met a moving object and it fucking stopped it, by God! Devin yanked the chain pulling José and it crashed onto its back. The final move of this chess game had just been made.
Devin planted his feet as he pulled the chain, dragging his doomed enemy painfully toward him. The rough tarmac tore José apart. Baking asphalt made blue skin sizzle. Every piece of flesh caught and ripped, leaving trails of blood and ragged skin in its wake. Ghost Rider was laughing madly as the distance quickly closed.
He stood over the post-human, now only bloodied hamburger with eyes and a mouth. “You fucking villainous piece of shit! You could've just left her and gotten away free but you are too greedy. This is what you fucking deserve.” He pulled the pistol from his hip and double tapped the zombie right between its yellow eyes.
I knew this whole scenario hit too close to home for my copilot. He saw the death of his sister every day in his mind. And there she laid again, blood pooling around her head on a lonely tarmac. We had saved no one as of yet.
If Devin is aware of the future, why did he allow this to happen? Couldn’t he have stopped it? He would probably say something about how it was supposed to happen. It was apparent by his wet face that he knew before José even took a hostage. I guess he’s just a mouthpiece with no control.
☠☠☠
Turning to give my friend a bit of privacy after we laid Kyndle to rest, I started walking back to the BAE hangar. Just for kicks, I decided to enter the sealed bay. I opened one of the smaller doors, cracked a glow stick, and tossed it in. Nothing stirred or came running out but I could make out a large gray object in the middle of the hanger. Pushing back the larger sliding door I turned to look at my discovery.
There in the middle of the bay, prepped ready for flight, sat a pristine MH-60S Seahawk. The gray whirly bird was completely immaculate and had remained untouched since May Day. We would be leaving this airport in a different kind of EAGLE.
☠☠☠
19
Slice And Dice
THE CORA WAS still somewhere in Alabama. Continuing west and ultimately south, the sojourners moved at what seemed like a snail’s pace. They normally came across at least one dam per day. All the crew was sick of trudging into one musky tomb after another.
Food, ammo, and all other supplies were constantly being used up. This was expected, but occasional trips would be made ashore to replenish the stores. When it came to retrieving replacement parts for firearms, stockpiling weapons, and filling 55 gallon drums with ammunition, The Expert volunteered for these missions.
Hammer, suited up in Metroid Prime’s Samus armor, and stood ready as usual to defend her country. Kumar wore a Clone Trooper suit and carried his trusty talwaar. The Medicine Man appeared battle-ready in the bodysuit of Darth Vader sans Cape. All made their way down the gangplank.
The trio headed to a pawn shop that was located a few blocks from the docked vessel. The Expert ordered “Remember, melee first, firearms second and only if under attack.”
She pulled her M4 from over her shoulder and left Anduril strapped over the other. The other two similarly held their HK submachine guns at the ready. They closed on the building, slowing their momentum to move more silently.
Though not expecting an ambush or a simple all out attack, The Expert had learned there was no reason to take chances. She would rather not take unnecessary risks back in the day–in her career as a Marine Corp Captain– against the communists. She was especially careful now with these naked, blue tangos.
Hammer pushed the door in and leaned around the corner while crouching. The bell chimed when the door reached its apex and a questioning animal grunt could be heard. A balding blunatic hurriedly came around the corner to see what made the noise.
What was once an elderly man came sliding in the nastiness covering the floor. A memory of the Tom Cruise movie Risky Business flashed in her mind. The Expert couldn’t get a steady aim on the creature as it appeared to take a dive and slide for home plate. She was wishing for a silencer before she took the shot, regretting the crew had yet to find such accessories. One 5.56 round being fired might not draw the attention of the entire blue world.
Before the cannibal’s momentum could be slowed by the front wall of the building, it let out an ear shattering screech, ringing the dinner bell for any forme
r humans in the area.
The Expert sent a three round burst at the revenant as the final note of the call left its mouth. The bottom round impacted the sternum and stuck in the thick chest bone. The wound was extremely painful but not fatal; the abomination would have survived had it not been for the next pieces of lead.
The second round impacted milliseconds later an inch above the first. The bullet sank into the chest cavity, vaporizing arteries, bronchial tubes, esophagus, and other things necessary for life. It then tore through the spine and exploded out the creature’s back.
The third round hit right under the Adam’s apple, destroying any chance of it ever making sound again. Death was now assured for this beast, with arterial blood gushing from its throat. Unable to cry out, scream in agony, or even whimper, the peevie sank silently into a rapidly growing pool of its own lifeblood.
It was too late to stop the harsh scream for blue reinforcements, the only thing the main protagonists could do was rush into the building, quickly secure it, and prepare for the coming horde.
The three armored humans charged into the pawn shop, searching for more nudists. Hammer dropped one that was too busy devouring the sloppy carcass of an animal to have noticed the call from its fellow zombie.
The blue ape was on its hands and knees, tearing into the bloody entrails when she sent one round into its brown eye. If the creature reacted, there was no sign it knew what was happening.
The bullet ripped through intestines, major organs, and finally exploded out of the mouth. The creature looked up as the bullet shot from its pie hole, giving the illusion of projectile vomiting blood onto the wall on its other side. It fell into its disgusting meal, undead blood mixing with that of the downed animal.
The Expert smiled to herself. “That tango will never excrete feces again.”
Kumar rolled around the corner and was backed up by The Medicine Man. They witnessed a truly chilling scene. A female zombie was stretched out over a bed of leaves. It was gnawing the last few tender morsels from an almost clean bone. Strands of bloody fat clung to what appeared to be a rib bone. Each piece was sucked down by the completely naked former human.
Dr. George had to stifle a gasp. The female had an enlarged stomach and was apparently a few months pregnant. The HITs froze, staring at what would be the coming generation of the infected.
The cardiologist wanted to capture this creature, to study the fetus. Hoping to gather knowledge about what they could be expecting of the coming zombie evolution. He knew, though, they didn’t have time to incapacitate and secure the afflicted for its transport back to the Viva Ancora. One of his goals was to study an infected fetus and its host.
He whispered sadly to his fellow. “Do it.”
The Blue Clone Trooper readied his weapon as the beast sat up, hearing the click. It let out a keening hiss when it took in the two figures on the other side of the room. The bone it had been chewing on was released from its teeth and rolled down the blood covered chest.
The animal had been drenched in body fluids for an extended period. The only washing it may have received was from an occasional rain. As it began to push itself from the floor The Phantom launched a three round burst at its head. It didn’t have the time to register what was taking place as three bullets sank into the creature’s cranium.
The top half of the head exploded sending gray matter and bloodied bone fragments haphazardly around the room. The blood caked hair was vaporized leaving no evidence that the thing was ever a brunette.
As the creature fell back dead, The Medicine Man sincerely wished they could return to extricate the fetus for closer study. It went without saying that this body would disappear before they could return from the Cora.
They had locked the door but that would only slow the monsters. Blood was in the air. Not enticing human blood, but the afflicted would smell their fallen brothers and break through the glass door to find out what happened. The humans would be found sooner rather than later.
The three protagonists completed their circle of the building and felt they had removed all enemies. The only thing left to do was prepare for a coming onslaught. They began pushing shelving units against the door and surrounding picture windows; knowing they wouldn't hold the enemy more than a few seconds.
Disguised as a Sith Lord, the doctor pushed an aluminum desk in front of the doorway to a small office. He instructed The Expert to position squarely in front of the opening. She opened her pack containing extra full magazines, stretching her fingers in anticipation of the battle to come.
Objects slamming into glass were the first sounds recognizable by the humans. First one item, then many more and finally, the glass began to crack. The shelving units were being pushed. The screeching of metal on linoleum was a painfully distinct sound. Hoping it would hold for a few more minutes the team waited.
Bare feet could be heard flopping through layered manure and stopped before coming into view. It could be heard sniffing, catching wind of something delicious. An exhalation of joy came before it began barking and alerting the rest of the revenants of the location of the buffet. Company had arrived. And the company was bringing guests.
The first ghoul to round the corner was met with a single 5.56 round. It penetrated the skin right above the left collarbone and shredded tissue before exiting out the right side of the neck. The animal fell, its life blood pumping from the fresh holes in its body. Recovery was impossible from a definite death blow like the one it had just received.
The servants of the Galactic Empire came to either side of Samus and similarly readied their rifles. Hammer gave instructions. “Single shots. Use grenades only if needed. Melee will be the last option for close quarters.” Now that the enemy was already alerted, maintaining silence was no longer a priority for this operation.
Growling, barking, howling, and other types of animalistic noises came from down the hall as the beasts swarmed into the pawn shop. Dozens of peevies shrieked as they came into view and were dropped by all three protagonists. Blood and feces were sprayed as each reanimated corpse toppled over.
The peevies seemed to fall closer and closer. They were losing uncountable numbers, but their overwhelming roster of undead backups would eventually see their victory.
“Nade while you shoot!” The Expert ordered in a drill Sergeant commanding voice.
She bounced a white phosphorus grenade to the end of the hall just as another group of zombies rounded the corner. They came charging as the grenade exploded behind them. They had bullets coming at their faces and searing magma eating at them from behind.
Every beast was being incinerated by the burning explosion from behind them. The bullets had stopped when it was apparent all enemies received some of the blast. They slowly died by fire as they screamed for relief. Any of the animals wounded, but still alive on the floor, were surely dead considering the burning fluid eating through all of the bodies.
☠☠☠
Three more grenades and three more full magazines emptied meant that the living people would have to soon start fighting off the blue army hand to hand.
Spreading out to give each other fighting room the trio prepared themselves for the oncoming horde. Hammer drew her broadsword as Kumar unsheathed his Indian talwaar with a zing of readiness. The doctor readied his double-ended mace. All three were primed for the approaching undead.
The Medicine Man threw his next to last grenade. At the end of the hall the next group of naked cannibals rounded the corner just as the frag went off. Shrapnel tore through meat and eviscerated the soulless horde as the first few came into view. Walking corpses were shredded and the mass of bodies already on the floor were turned into thick paste after so many grenades exploded right on top of them. It was nearly impossible to differentiate bodily remains and the grotesque amount of sewage now filling the hallway.
The Expert spread her arms and spoke to the closest beast. “Bring it, Vladimir!” The nudist jumped over the desk and she brought her sword from right
to left.
It took a second for the body to begin sliding apart. The upper portion, from the ribs up, separated from the lower body and organs began spilling out both sections of the torso. The steaming guts made sickening wet slaps as they were expelled onto the floor.
The monster wasn’t able to continue the attack for the few seconds it remained conscious. It was so racked with excruciating pain from being cleaved in two. Vital organs spilled out as if it were a piñata.
Blood was flying as Kumar hacked the monsters with his talwaar. Made to wound rather than kill, the curved sword gashed enemies as the HIT sliced.
Jindal’s talwaar was a curved sword made to slice rather than stab. Often confused with a simple scimitar, the talwaar could slash enemies to ribbons. Blood had been spilt and would be spilled countless more times by his familial blade.
The peevies didn’t attend to their injured and carry their comrades from the battlefield, so it may have been a poor choice of weapons. It may not have originally been intended to, but the razor-sharp blade did end the life of its victim, it just took more effort.
The Expert worked alongside The Phantom to destroy the Ruskies he wasn’t able to. He sometimes had to drive his blade into an animal three or four times to receive the wanted result. He would continually slam his blade into a ghoul until he cleaved something necessary for life. She sliced up the tangos that he dropped but didn’t eliminate.
The dark suited cardiologist was dealing with his own festivities while the other two faced off with their opponents. Three nudists launched themselves at him simultaneously and he brought his weapon up to hold them all back. The barbs on the ends dug into the beasts on either side while the wind was knocked out of the center infected. He shook his mace to lose the hangers on. Bloodied, blue, ragged tissue clung to the spikes as he brought one end against an un-punctured revenant. The spiked head dug into the beast at the base of the skull and lodged in the meat of the neck.
