I’m sure you can figure out who did what.
They all wandered off, except Wolf despite Kate’s insistent, though short lived, dragging. She threw her hands into the air and gave up before walking to the nearest armed man and filled him in on the plan.
“What is it Wolf?”
He seemed so quiet, like he was afraid everything he said or thought could somehow incriminate him. He pulled out an olive-green walkie-talkie no bigger than a brick mobile phone, rolled it around in his hand for a second before tossing it to me, “It’s a piece of crap, got it off one of the guards, but he says it’s good to five kilometres. That should be good enough for you to contact us when you’re finished up.”
I did my best to reflect his weak smile, “Will do. Thanks.”
He jutted his chin at me in response before turning to leave. “Wait.” I jumped down off the pile and walked over to him and hugged him right as he started to turn around, “I’ll see you soon mate.”
He returned the hug three fold and stumbled his words as he said, “I’m sorry John… I promise I didn’t know.” And before I got to get an explanation he was gone.
I accepted that that was an issue for later and turned back to Greg who was wielding a large pump-action shotgun, “Where in the bloody Hell did you get that?”
“Guy over there. He threw it to me while you and Wolf were having cuddles.”
I laughed and started my climb to the top of the rubble, “When all’s done here I’ll give you a proper man hug, sound good?”
With a big grin he cocked his shotgun and laughed, “My friend, if we get through this I’ll give you a big sloppy kiss.”
I should’ve hugged him.
I miss him.
The Illusion of Diplomacy
Three Minutes Post First Contact
Tensions were high in the helicopter as it started its pass a thousand metres above the Brisbane river. Minks, Mikael, Gabriel and Gregorvich had all voted for returning to the city, while Kate voted to leave and was still trying to convince Wolfgang to agree with her, “He’s dead Wolf, I watched it happen, and if we go back we’ll all die. You know that.”
The German vampire looked torn but eventually gave to Kate’s begging, “Fuck… fine, I think we should leave. If Kate’s sure then so am I.”
Minks snarled, “Bullshit Wolf, you’re just incapable of saying no to her you sad sack of shit. I’m making sure John knows who wanted to leave him.”
“Come on Jace, listen to reason.” Kate pleaded.
“Don’t you dare ‘Jace’ me. Shut up, we voted, you lost, we’re going back and that’s it.” Kate went to argue again but Minks was already banging on the roof, “Turn it around Ray! We’re goin’ back!”
Other than the steady ‘put-put-put’ of the blades cutting through the rain nothing responded. Minks banged on the roof again. “Raymond! I said turn this chopper around, now! That’s an order!”
Nothing.
Minks slammed on the roof a final time while making his way into the cockpit, “I said-! Oh for fucks sake…” He said with nothing but disappointment when he saw the zombifying pilot.
The pilot had had some sort of delayed reaction to the initial gassing due to the filtration system in the cockpit, but when it did hit, it hit with a tenacity.
Minks wasn’t interested in that though. Instead he did what any rational person would do and shot the jaw snapping creature in the head.
Unfortunately rational people can die too.
Before anyone could ask what was going on the zombie’s corpse collapsed forward onto the cyclic stick. The helicopter went into a nose dive and threw Minks back onto his head and almost out the door, Gregorvich just catching him before he got eaten by the hungry propellers while most of the passengers sat and waited for a crushing death.
Most.
Gabriel didn’t feel like dying and acted on impulse, climbing into the cockpit and grabbing at the pilot.
Something caught on the limp body and suddenly the helicopter was in more of a tail spin. Gregorvich was flung out of his seat, barely managing to use his body weight to throw his unconscious C.O. into the helicopter.
But it was too little too late.
Less than three seconds later the helicopter was churning dirt into the air with its shattered blades.
Other than the slowing rotors, nothing moved in the helicopter. Fuel was leaking, electricity was arcing and a curious, twitching horde of the undead made its way toward the sideways flying lunchbox.
Going Out…
66,657 Minutes Post First Contact
I fired a few shots into the air as we walked toward the single storey house where we’d last seen Neysor and his group, “Come out ‘ere a second! Need to have a chat with the gentleman in charge!”
He strode out the door, wearing his robes again, and onto the front lawn of the house a few metres from us with his dozen or so white-armoured friends close behind, “Good to see you John. Been looking all over for you and… my, is this your little friend that hit me with that toy car?”
Greg didn’t take well to being called little.
He fired his shotgun like it was just an over-sized pistol into Neysor’s chest, knocking the commander onto his back as Greg cocked it again and started aiming around at the un-fussed aliens, “Come on!”
But they refused to respond to Greg’s invitation.
I really didn’t like it, “Really? You guys are just going to stand there?”
Then I understood.
Neysor slowly stood back up, shaking off the blast to the chest, and smiled evilly, “You’ll have to do better than that.”
I stared, waiting for his next move and realised he was doing the same as we backed away, “Greg. Run.”
“What!?”
“Run. CBD. Now!”
With that we took off at high speed, skidding around corners and kicking off walls as we broke ninety kph. I held a sort of finesse with my darting while Greg was more like a turbo-charged garbage truck, tearing up gravel and knocking in walls. He was doing his job perfectly.
Within seconds we were in the heart of the city having left a very obvious trail of destruction behind us.
We stopped on a deserted pavement in front of a building and took a breather, “You think he can keep up?” Greg heaved between deep breaths.
I shrugged the best I could while I was doubled over, holding my knees for support, “I don’t know if he could keep up. But I daresay he’ll be able to follow the path we left.”
We were less than a kilometre from where we needed to be, but I felt if we went any further they’d suspect something was up and wouldn’t willingly follow.
Plus, we needed a break from the running and that was as good a place as any. The cool night air was complemented with a soft breeze, and without even the slightest bit of rain we could appreciate the peace and quiet without worrying about soaking our clothes.
I wondered if we should check in with Wolf and the others but decided that it’d probably be for the best if we stuck to the plan of radio silence until Greg and I were finished. I was actually pretty excited for the end result.
Destruction was always a big tension release for me.
I could feel my second wind building up as a group of white blurs zoomed past us, “Hey! Back here!” I yelled after them.
It took a second but they eventually turned back and started circling Greg and I, forcing us into the middle of the street. Each of them looked more tired than the last, though that didn’t stop them from aiming their bladed weapons at us.
Now that they were closer I could tell that they were all rather massive, ranging from 6’11 to 7’4. The tallest one in the group was clearly important. She wore similar patches to Neysor and had a single red line that ran down the right side of her armour while her helmet had some obvious personal modifications. Marks were carved into the side as well as some red and black characters that I guessed denoted rank and achievements.
“Where’s the big sca
ry boss?” I asked the biggest one, “No offense intended, but did he just up and leave the dirty work to the little guy?” I taunted.
They certainly were a quiet bunch.
It was really quite disturbing.
Greg cocked his shotgun and started aiming around at them, “Answer him!”
Right as he went to pull the trigger another figure zoomed past us, tearing the gun along with it. “That’ll be him then.” I whispered to Greg as Neysor stopped in a break in the circle.
“You really thought you could outrun us? Us? The purest form of your disgusting hybrid of flawed genetics? Fools.” He growled as he bent and broke Greg’s shotgun.
A poor decision on his part, really.
Instead of sticking to the plan that had worked so well so far Greg snapped. He kicked up gravel and solid tar into the soldiers behind us as he shot into Neysor, blasting him at least fifty metres away with his second in command in close tow while the rest of the soldiers seemed completely dumbfounded.
After the initial shock had passed, all the soldiers attacked us. Instead of risking shooting each other they ran at us with their blades, yelling in their foreign language.
I dodged one, grabbing her gun-blade and, using her momentum, forced it into her companion who was attacking me from the other side, before sweeping the first one’s legs.
Greg reflected his running style in his fighting, using his immense size to throw the soldiers around like stuffed toys, taking their weapons in the process and casting them at the next nearest target.
One attempted to grab me from behind so another could gut me, a process I interrupted by pulling out one of my pistols and firing once into the grabber’s knee before turning and firing a shot into the gutter’s head. The grabber went to pull my leg out from under me, instead I used the same leg to donkey-kick her hard in the chest while tossing Greg my other pistol, “Heads!”
He spun on the spot, caught the gun and went to shoot a new attacker to no avail, “No bullets!”
“The saf-!” A blade cutting across my face stopped me from finishing my thought. I turned and saw my attacker pulling their weapon back in preparation to stab me.
For a second I waited for the perfect moment, closed my eyes and-
“The what!?”
That distraction was enough for me to lose all focus, the blade entered my side, it was vibrating and was carving through one of my ribs like it was wafer.
I am not too proud to say that I screamed.
Maybe even cried a little.
I grabbed the end of the gun, “Try,” I pushed against the alien’s weight, “the Goddamn,” the alien bent over to try and get more leverage and I used her proximity to my advantage, delivering a heavy uppercut into her forehead, causing her to fly backward but leaving the vibrating weapon inside me, “safety!”
“Ahh… Got it.”
I tore the gun out of my side and spun it around me, deterring the other aliens who’d decided that I was wounded enough to be an easy target.
That factoid came to mind, that one about wolves biting their own feet off to get out of traps and all I could think was ‘Fuck. That.’ as my wound closed over and my bones replaced themselves.
I tried to fire the gun in my hands but the trigger refused to move. I gave up and charged the first soldier I saw. Instead of simply bayonetting her though I jumped up, spearing the blade into the top of her head as I did so, and tore through at least fifteen metres of air.
I figured that I could slam downward and cause a sizable amount of damage to my next target.
I was wrong.
The alien soldiers had followed me and were trying to grapple with me above the ground.
I managed to kick two of them away and grab the third in an attempt to soften my impact.
I was less than a second from the ground when an almighty force slammed into my side and dragged me along for a good distance before letting me bounce down the road.
On the fourth bounce I managed to catch myself in an upright position and came to a grinding stop. Neysor was clearly really bloody pissed with me, understandably, and he wanted a fight.
Honestly, for a moment I wanted to fight him too, but something else took me over and suddenly I’d dashed passed the angry commander and was back with Greg. He was like a big hairy totem pole the way he swung aliens around and around before using them as weapons against their friends.
“What are you doing back here comrade?” He asked as he knocked away an incoming soldier’s gun with his massive hands and kicked her backward, leaving a massive imprint in the wall that she connected with.
“I’m here to make sure you don’t get yourself killed!” I said while tossing him my other pistol, which he caught as I flipped over an attacker and landed right next to him.
“You go John. I can handle this.”
Neysor’s girly had decided it was time to pitch in, dropping her gun and coming at us with a heavy stride, “Doubt it.”
He actually shuddered when he saw her coming toward us before getting into a boxing stance, “You take the man, I’ve got these ones.”
“No way Greg, I’m stayin-”
“You will go now or I will throw you!”
I started to argue then stepped, I knew his mind was made and nothing was going to unmake it. As I went to run off he grabbed my arm and pulled me back for a second, “Just… Come back for me?”
I nodded, gripped his hand tight, let go with him and ran over toward where I’d left Neysor. The last thing I heard was his booming voice bellowing out something angry in Russian.
I wanted to turn back, and if I could turn back time I would. But I had a new task at hand and I figured that Gregorvich, the massive Russian with the ability to tear cars in half, could handle a few zeds while I went to play ‘tiggy-tag-boom!’ with Neysor.
I should’ve stayed behind.
…With a Bang
After I’d found Neysor again it was all ‘run here, hide there’ for a while. It took a while but I eventually led the angry bastard all the way to Queen Street Mall.
I ended up taking temporary residence in the far right corner of a mostly abandoned discount clothing store, waiting for my perfect moment to do… something.
It was an imperfect plan, I accepted that, but what plan is without flaw? And if a single one of you thinks there’s a book I should read about a certain beardy fellow’s perfect plan, stop.
I did and I was immensely disappointed in the lack of dragons and his son fighting said dragons from the back of a tyrannosaurus rex with laser beams.
I mean, over fifty versions and not one has a single reference to the protagonist attacking the Romans with an army of velociraptors?
It’s a travesty.
Neysor found his way to the store after less than five minutes, which was enough time for the city to fall into a dark and cloudy night.
His eyes bore into everything around the store. His night vision seemed to be similar to mine, maybe even a bit less finely tuned. Which I took as a good sign that he wouldn’t be able to see me in the shadowed corner I’d found. Especially with all the creepy manikins that surrounded me.
As he began to walk further away I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief and be grateful that I escaped death-face without a scratch. But then I remembered my purpose wasn’t to get away from him.
It was to exterminate him.
I jumped out of my safe and cosy corner, waving around like a mad-man, “Hey! No-nose!”
He did not like that.
The second he saw me he was on the move, and boy did he move. I only just managed to lob a manikin at him in time to make my escape.
I didn’t look behind me to see what had happened with the manikin attack, instead I left a loud and messy trail for him to follow while I continued to lead him toward the building.
The windows shattered as I jumped through them shoulder first out onto the Queen Street strip. I was less than five hundred meters from my destination and Neysor the snarling
douchebag was still hot on my tail.
Without much thought I gave up on the cat and mouse routine and decided it was time to bury him. I found the building I was looking for, a relatively straight shot from where I was standing.
I’d barely taken a step in the direction when the pony-tail assassin jumped out of the window and landed right behind me.
“Meloth di crashot!” He barked as I turned to face him.
“Ditching the Kings, are we? Quite right, but I must say I’m not as fluent in gibberish.” I stepped on the back of my shoe and loosened it slightly.
“Ghurhren mifta!”
“No, no, I forgive you.” As I said the final word I kicked my shoe at him, but instead of him getting a blow to the head it was me, as he caught it and threw it straight back, instantly concussing me.
I grabbed my head and grunted in pain, “Jesus H. Christ that hurt! Why would you-!”
He didn’t let me finish, instead he ran and wrapped his arm around my midsection and continued running. We zoomed through the strip, and then the alley where Greg and I had moved through to escape the police, and, finally, I was ploughed into a wall.
I definitely felt something shatter, but seeing as my weird hugger had somehow managed to smash his head into the concrete I decided that the time for broken ribs and ruptured spleens was later.
While he continued to shake himself off I ran, well, tried to, toward the building’s blown in doors. I’d barely made it to the stairs and Neysor was already better and on me. He grabbed me by my dirty and torn shirt and threw me into the building where I landed flat on my face.
The marble floor wasn’t as much of a comfort as I’d hoped it’d be. By that point I’d figured I’d be quipping away while burying the son of a bitch.
Instead I was about to be treated to a brilliant show of my own ass-kicking in the polished floor.
Neysor entered the building and looked around with the sort of interest you’d give to someone’s kids drawing of a dog, “Very nice. Perfectly fine place for you to die John.” He finished his sentence with a swift kick to my stomach, sending my flying across the lobby and into the reception desk.
The Mulligan Planet 2 (The Mulligan Planet Trilogy) Page 6
