Having become gray themselves by being bathed in the sticky liquid, the undead were bent on passing through the fissure that humans and their mechanical servants were striving to fill up, seeking to widen it. At the same time the cement jets were trying to close it.
Horrified, her heart beating hard, Red and her friend had the impression of seeing a bacterial invasion enlarged on a human scale: the organism consisted of the Community, which sought to avoid the intrusion of microbes through healing, but this wasn't able to take place, while its wound, symbolized by the crack, could never close completely.
The microbes, the creatures, were more and more numerous to emerge in the "wound", and the Community would soon suffer from sepsis...
And the final stage of sepsis, if it could not be cured, was simply...
Death.
"Red!"
Bo's shout turned the girl around, who could not help smiling as she saw her other friend, who was running toward her, holding in his hand the most beautiful object she had ever seen.
"Here, Red, here is the first in the series," said the blond man, passing it quickly to her.
"Caution!" exclaimed the girl, recoiling sharply to avoid the blade, and then keeping herself on her guard.
"What..." Bo asked, opening wide eyes and aghast.
"It's super-sharp, you don't realize, go slowly when you pass it to me..."
"You're exaggerating, you know," the other replied jokingly, handing toward her the handle of the weapon he was holding with four fingers. The fifth one, the little finger of his right hand, inadvertently ventured on the blade, on which it pressed.
The little finger was cut clean and fell, rolling in the grass to his feet. His eyes widened in horror as blood flowed abundantly from the little stump. The surprise made him drop the weapon which fell on the ground, at his feet, on the verge of slicing his toes.
"I warned you!" exclaimed Red, rushing toward him as she pulled out a small packet of paper handkerchiefs from her back pocket. She took one of them with a quick wave and applied it around the stub that was oozing, the pressure on the stump causing a grimace of pain on Bo's face.
The latter, his attention focused on his stump, which continued to empty blood at his feet, became pale. He crouched awkwardly, trying to catch the cut finger, and finally sat heavily on the ground.
"Oh, Bo, how are you doing?" asked Red, who had followed him in his motion and squatted beside him.
"My finger..." the young blond man murmured, taking his eyes off the sliced finger on the dusty ground to glare at her.
It was then that his glare became empty and he began to fall backwards.
Johnny managed to catch him just in time from behind, having crouched at his back, and he said to his friend, "Bo, eh, Boris, stay with us! Remember yoga that we both practiced a long time ago... Use your breathing to calm down, don't panic!"
Bo looked at him, his eyes still empty, but he pulled himself together.
Taking a deep breath, followed by an even deeper exhalation, he began to regain some color.
Johnny took the pack of tissues from Red's hands and, having extracted one of them, returned it to her.
"Well," Johnny whispered softly, helping Bo to get up with one hand, while with the other, he picked up the finger on the floor and put it in the handkerchief, which quickly turned red, "I’ll take you to the hospital quickly, I'm sure they'll be able to stitch you up fast, if we hurry enough before it gets necrotic. Keep watching, huh, Red."
She nodded and, stretching out a hand, grabbed the sword that had fallen into the dust.
"We're going, old boy," Johnny said gently to Bo.
The latter didn't say anything, and his face rather sickly, he finally got up with difficulty. Supported by his friend, they left for the big white building that made up the Community hospital.
Left alone in front of the crack with the Community's defense guards and the construction robots, Red felt, like these men, more and more nervous, seeing the growing excitement of the zombies trying, no matter what, to cross the crack.
Many began to be caught in the structure of the cement, and despite the abnormal strength that their condition gave them. The creatures eventually became one with the substance, their heads, legs, or hands protruding.
Red took a clean handkerchief and, squatting again, looked at the little pool of blood left by her friend's little finger. And finally, she mopped up the area, standing up to look at the paper cloth that had turned purple. Then, crossing the inner courtyard, she approached a garbage can at the foot of the ramparts, and threw away the bloody handkerchief.
A crackle was heard and, lifting her head, she saw that one of the undead was freeing its arms out of the gangue of concrete, while it glanced hungrily at her, its bloodshot eyes still almost intact.
"Quick, direct the jet toward there!" shouted one of the technicians commanding the mixer robot, while he pointed to the thing, which was moving more and more, its pelvis still imprisoned in the hardening concrete.
The creature suddenly released its upper body and pounced on the technician, catching his head in its crooked, bony fingers.
The man shook himself in all directions, screaming, trying to free himself, but his head was caught in a vise, and the zombie moved its jaw-crazed jaw with its rotten teeth toward him.
Red ran to him with the sword in her hand but already the thing had plunged its teeth in the man's hair, who began to shout even louder.
The top of the zombie's head exploded and bits of bone were scattered over its victim and on the ground, mixed with dark-red brain gelatin.
A smell of rottenness assailed the red-haired girl's nose as she watched the creature's arms relax, and its claw hands clattered off the man's head who fell backwards in the dust, moaning.
Obviously he didn't even have a scratch, but was still scared to death.
But what impressed the girl the most was the decayed head of the undead, who now had its torso hanging down. The creature's upside-down head resembled a boiled egg from which the cap had been removed to soak a slice of bread, with the difference that it was a disgusting brain gelatin that was flowing on the ground.
"Down and out!" roared a recognizable voice behind her.
"Harry!" the girl shouted in glee, a big smile on her lips as she turned to look at the man who was standing behind her.
Standing, but not empty handed.
Curious, she approached him and looked at the kind of big, strange-looking rifle he held in his hands. It was obviously a heavy weapon, very heavy, probably not usable by a man of average build, and even less by a petite woman. Around the barrel and the huge stick, there were blue LED lights flashing.
"What is that?" asked Red, reaching hesitantly for the weapon, and touching its handle.
"If you want to know, this is a universal rifle!" exclaimed the tall black man, pride on his face as he held the strange weapon firmly in both hands. She caressed the handle with one finger and followed its side to the end of the barrel, which was very long. There were slight traces of mud at the end of it.
"A universal rifle?" asked the girl, taken aback. She smiled and added, "Awesome, it looks like it's been made for you... Huh, what's the caliber? I've understood that we don't have much ammunition left at the armory?"
"It does not use any bullets," the tall black man replied with a big smile, as happily as if he were a young sales representative presenting his merchandise, and he crouched while holding the weapon with one hand.
Further grunts erupted behind Red and turning around she saw another zombie in the process of extricating itself in turn from its gangue of gray concrete. It was the animated corpse of an old woman who had obviously had a cheek snatched, judging by the huge hole in the side of her jaw. The teeth and gums were visible on that side, giving the impression that this female zombie had a constant grin in the corner.
"We take dirt or mud from the ground," Harry said.
Turning her head to look at him again the girl saw that
, still crouching, he was taking a handful of muddy earth that he had pulled out from the ground, digging it up with his big hand, and he continued, "Preferably mud or snow mingled with gravel or pebbles," and having said this, he opened his hand, showing several small stones that he had collected, and he brought the whole thing closer to the rifle. He closed his hand and introduced the dirt into a large opening on the side of the weapon. The latter started to emit small electric noises and the LED lamps on its periphery started to blink even more while the giant continued, "Then, the rifle compresses mechanically the mud or the collected snow, and then we only have to squeeze the trigger, as soon as it's ready."
Red heard an animal rattle behind her and turned around, seeing that the old zombie woman had almost escaped its gangue, which eventually exploded under the pressure from the creature. The zombie fell on all fours on the floor, still wearing an old dress soiled by time, and the thing was looking down.
The creature then raised its head, showing its ravaged cheek and opening yellow teeth still mixed with an old dental appliance.
A little 'ding' was heard behind the young redhead who turned back to Harry. The sound his gun had just made was like a microwave oven that had just finished its heating cycle. The lights on the rifle stopped flashing and a continuous sound, like that of an ever stronger warning siren, began to hurt Red's ears.
"It's ready!" Harry exclaimed excitedly as he squeezed the trigger.
A loud sound of compressed air made Red jump and the creature screamed.
Turning around the girl saw that the old zombie woman's lower jaw had literally been swept away. The thing roared again, a roar of rage mixed with frustration as it tried, clumsily, to walk towards them.
It was a curious sight, this jawless, insistent-looking thing advancing towards them with a slow, uncomfortable gait, while a new cycle of weird sounds emanated from the new toy of the colossus of color.
A second shot startled the girl who saw the top half of the creature's skull shatter like a July 4th firecracker. The pinkish-gray brain of the thing began to flow down the jagged edges of what was left of its skull. The creature now had only the lower part of its skull, devoid of its lower jaw. At the upper part of what was left of the skull, two eyeballs, rotten as raisins, hung against the thing's bony cheeks, at the end of optical nerves.
Now devoid of its brain the zombie's pace slowed down, but it continued to move on, much to the surprise of the red-haired girl.
She had heard of decapitated chickens on the run which had, for several meters, kept their momentum going for many seconds before stopping and falling, but she had never imagined that such a thing could happen to a human being - at least to what had been one in the past.
The thing finally came completely to a halt, staggered, and finally slowly fell forward, as if in a movie in slow motion. Its face hit the ground and what was left of its liquefied brain flowed into a pinkish puddle which spread to the feet of the man and the girl.
"Awesome, huh?" the colossus said proudly, recoiling like Red so that the nauseating puddle wouldn't reach his boots.
"Yep!" exclaimed Red. "With all the land at our disposal within the Community, not even considering the land around the Community, you can shoot thousands, maybe millions of bullets with that, right? We need plenty of weapons on the same model!"
"Unfortunately, there is a caveat, because…"
A sonorous sound interrupted him, and he and the girl looked at each other in surprise. It had sounded like a sonorous gong, or a loud drum sound.
A new gong was heard and from the ramparts a sentry hailed them by beckoning to them, "Come and see this!"
They both rounded the now rigid body of the jawless undead and then, not sparing their efforts, ran to the top step, joining the guard on the ramparts.
Leaning over the edge Red and her colossal friend opened wide eyes and understood where the noise had come from.
A crowd of undead moved back and forth like one individual - or rather a single zombie - and clashed in synchronism with the cracked part of the wall. Hands, chest, any part of their body that could be used to hit the concrete surface in rhythm was used.
The enormous sound of the clash of the mass of these rotting bodies echoed through the wall, and made the ground tremble beneath the feet of the human defenders standing on the guard lanes.
Harry laughed nervously and said, "Their old carcasses will eventually dissolve into powder by bumping against the wall, won't they?"
"Not necessarily," replied Red, who was much more concerned, resuming, "These creatures are all in synchronism knocking the same weak area of the wall."
A new collision was followed by a sound of falling.
The girl and the big black man walked to another side looking out on the inner part of the rampart and the inner courtyard, and then they looked down. The cracks had widened on the surface of the wall from which dust began to fall.
The next clash enlarged visible cracks, dust and pieces of concrete fell, joining other pieces that had accumulated on the dusty interior floor.
Two technicians were leading two new robot builders by voice, joining the previous one to spray the cracked surface with more wet concrete.
"My God, quick, or it'll end up giving way!" shouted one of the technicians while pointing to the surface, which under a new blow coming from outside had moved.
"It's up to us!" exclaimed Red, and she then ran towards the stairs to go down the ramparts, followed by her friend.
***
Frail
Hiroto, eyes closed, was lying on his back on his futon bed.
Mei was beside him, sitting cross-legged on a mat, and she was looking at him anxiously. Slowly moving closer a bowl of water, she poured some liquid into her father's half-open mouth while supporting his head with her free hand.
The old man moved his lips when they felt the cold touch of the liquid. This started to get him out of unconsciousness... and he then felt that his throat was burning. Painfully, he tried to drink.
He swallowed and coughed brutally, shaken by violent muscular spasms.
Then his cough calmed and, swallowing his saliva, he cleared his throat. Slowly, he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. It seemed vague in the darkness of his room, lit only by a small bedside lamp on a small table next to him. His gaze drifted at random, trying painfully to discern the details in the room.
That's when he discerned a face.
A face with fine features, which he recognized as being his daughter's, who smiled warmly at him.
"Mei..." he murmured with difficulty.
"I'm here, Dad," his daughter said, smiling, before adding, "I never thought I'd see you again!"
"It's the same thing with me," he told her, giving her one of those discreet smiles she was used to.
"And I'm so glad that you're staying with me now," the young woman exclaimed shyly, hardly containing her joy.
"Not for long, I'm afraid," he replied, his smile disappearing.
His daughter's smile faded when, moving his clothes, he showed her his wound.
The young woman was horrified as she discovered the black veinlets spreading on his body in all directions from the wound, traces of necrosis having vaguely the shape of lightning. She knew what it meant, having watched with interest numerous medical documentaries on the Community's unique channel.
The transformation process was initiated.
Mei could not help but allow a tear that slowly trickled down one of her cheeks.
Hiroto, laboriously, gently raised his right hand toward his daughter's cheek that he touched with his fingertips. The tear came to die on his fingers, the ends of which were beginning to darken in their turn.
The old man whispered, "You know I've always felt that the truth must be told, Mei."
He swallowed hard before continuing, "It is no use hiding one's head in the sand, you know it has always been my opinion."
Mei remained silent, contemplating him with sadness.
&
nbsp; "We already knew that I was doomed by science in the next few years, because of my cancer, let's say this incident just accelerated things."
The young woman nodded, finding nothing to say while facing the evidence.
"There is another unmistakable fact," continued the old man, "and this fact is that, of all my students, you will have been the best, and the one who is the worthiest to succeed me."
The emphasis he had just put on these last words made his throat ache and he couldn't help but cough.
"May it be done as you desire," replied his daughter, infinite sadness on her face.
Her father gave her a smile, the warmest smile she had ever seen him give to her... A smile that made her feel engulfed in a burst of warmth and tenderness, which reminded her of their distant moments together with her mother...
"Now, let me rest, please," said the old man, with a soft but firm intonation.
She nodded and stood up, giving him a small smile and whispering, "Yes, take some rest."
Seeing that he was face up now and had closed his eyes, she came out, closing gently the door of the bedroom behind her.
No sooner had she closed the door than Hiroto opened his eyes.
Pointing at the ceiling, they drifted toward the door as he turned his head toward it.
He listened. No noise.
She was gone...
Turning around with some difficulty, he put his hand along the edge of the futon and, having found what he was looking for with his fingertips, he pulled.
The big drawer under the bed came out halfway, and he looked at the contents. Kimonos, belts that had never been used. His diplomas dating from his studies in the dojos of the Land of the Rising Sun…
He thought of his native country, which he had left so long ago to come and educate the Americans. How many Japanese were still human? The epidemic caused by the Scourge had spread there as everywhere else in the world. And this not only because of the passengers of the international airlines, but also because of the flocks of birds which had spread the virus.
BESIEGED (HUNGRY Series Book 2) Page 20
