by GJ Zukow
A great, greasy, black, stinking cloud formed above the prison as the undead burned by the thousands. I watched the show from a rooftop, noticing with a wrinkled nose how the smell of that burnt flesh stuck to me and my clothes.
Even after I had rummaged through a couple of houses and found new clothes to replace my nasty and foul smelling old ones and taken a quick soapy wash with a couple of gallons of found water, the conflagration still burned.
They burned all night and well into the next afternoon. Most of the abominations roasted themselves in the fire, the unheard call of nearby food drew most of the hungering things together. Only a few handfuls never got close enough to burn themselves, although quite a few of those still standing had scorched and singed hair, skin and clothes. There was a pile of smoldering cadavers, blackened and charred, along the whole length of the interior fence with the greatest mass of undead having burned to cinders where they had last seen me. I had worried that the last of the buildings still standing would have caught fire, roasting any survivors alive but they were fine. In fact, I had thought that once so many of the undead had been eliminated, any survivors would have tried to finish off the last of the horrors and regain their freedom. The fact that nobody rushed out and fought off the last of the undead makes me think there are no survivors.
The ever present crows were thick around the steaming and still smoldering corpses, other birds of prey circled lazily over the great feast laid out before them. The smell of the roasted and blackened meat drew the attention of other predators, in the near distance I heard the excited barking and baying of dogs.
There was also a much larger number of the undead in the area surrounding the prison. For whatever reason, the number of the wandering dead seemed to triple overnight.
I brought a bolt cutter with me this time. As I walked the outer fence line, making my way towards the main gate, I tried to take stock of just how many of the diabolic cadavers were left. There didn't appear to be any number I couldn’t handle, so after checking my weapons I cut the lock.
As soon as the jaws of the bolt cutters bit through the hardened steel shank of the lock, the fence popped open, propelled by the weight of the undead that had died leaning against it. A great flock of birds flew up, cawing harshly at this interruption to their meal. I have to admit, I paused before trying to step through, over and around all of those badly burned corpses. It was slippery, forcing me to go slowly, as the charred flesh slipped off bones wherever I stepped. The first of the stragglers that hadn’t joined the unholy inferno reached me as I was just about to exit the field of cooked and reeking bodies. The parasite ruled corpse couldn’t negotiate the obstacle course of the dead either, quickly tripping and having to proceed on all fours. I split open his head, easily adding his corpse to the pile. I thought it would be so easy to wait for them to come to me. Once the clumsy things hit the pile, they would surely fall to my sword.
And it worked that way, for about fifteen minutes. Then a huge mass of the undead was appearing from around one of the buildings. I don’t know where they came from but I hadn’t seen or counted them. As they drew closer, my sword swung almost ceaselessly as I killed off the small groups of the more spread out zeds that I had expected. I knew that even with the obstacle course that their numbers would quickly overwhelm me. I started making my way back through the limbs and torsos, having to stop and take care of those zeds that were clawing and crawling their way too close to me. I heard the herd hit the speed bump of human corpses, the sounds of them falling one on top of the other was unmistakable. I turned around to look, they were like a wave of clawing, grasping arms and teeth, quickly seething towards me over a beach of roasted human carcasses. The cadavers shifted under me, causing me to stumble. I almost puked as I struggled to get back upright but the old blood and pieces of burnt flesh under my feet wouldn’t let me stand. So I crawled through the dead as more undead mimicked me. Either the undead were better negotiators of the disgusting speed bumps of human meat or I was too slow, when I finally climbed out the undead were right behind me. I swung my sword a few times wondering if I would actually have to resort to gunfire.
When my sword slipped on the muck and mire of death, that now covered most of me, flying off into the air behind me, I drew and started firing. I have seriously started to miss not firing lead into the faces of the undead, always having to worry about whether or not the menaces would hear me. Let every idiot undead thing come for a mile around I thought. I’ll kill the unnatural, unholy beasts by the dozens and lead them over to the junkyard ruled by the Reds. There was already the largest herd I have ever seen hanging around the Reds property, a few more won’t matter. Besides, since the undead are attracted to the scarlet carriers in such numbers, it leaves the rest of the city that less populated by the things. Even though I know carriers can go right through their midst without a care of being devoured, the things are almost packed shoulder to shoulder in places. If they go around on foot they’ll have to shove their way for a block in any direction before they gets clear of the main mass. If they transit by vehicle then I’m going to add more undead to get in their way. I kept well in sight of them and let them chase me right down the streets. I was managing my ammo well, everything was going as I planned. Though I had recovered the sword, the handle was still too slick for a good grip. When the time came to use a blade again I relied on the bayonet instead.
I came around one corner, no more than halfway to the Red’s lair, and stood staring unbelievably as that large horde, formerly in residence in front of the junkyard, was a hundred yards down the street.
I barely had time to wonder if the undead were following the scarlet ones when I heard and saw the muzzle blast of someone taking a shot at me. The bullet missed by a good foot to the left, whirring angrily in the humid air. The slug had been fired from at least a half a mile away, if not more. Not wanting to give the shooter another chance at me, I fled.
Two more shots rang out as I jumped fences and ran through neighborhoods. After about three blocks, running basically blind, I paused and peeked around the corner of a house, peering back the way I came. I was too intent on not become the victim of a protracted hunt than I was of the undead. All of my senses were concentrating on the dangers behind me, when dead fingers clasped me, sinking their blackened and broken nails into my arm. I was taken completely by surprise. As the fetid and rancid smell of the foul thing’s breath assailed me, it pinned my right arm and was quickly rushing in to bite me with its rotted, chipped and stained teeth. Before I could grab and draw the handgun in my left-side hip holster, as my right arm was in the solid grip of the dead, a ball of snarling red hair tore the zed from its hold on me. With a forceful thud, the two slammed to the ground, the huge, hairy dog on top of the thing’s back. With one quick and powerful shake, the German Shepherd snapped the monstrosity’s neck, ending its struggles.
It was Laelaps, the dog I had written of before. She came out of nowhere to save me and when she had, all she wanted to do was get some pets and attention from me. I gave her some of the beef jerky I had scrounged, Laelaps devoured what was left of it gladly. She’s actually a very nice and well behaved dog, somebody had trained her well. Since I gave her the jerky she’s been following me. I think Laelaps has adopted me. Hope she gets along with Nancy, hope she likes having her ear talked off one minute only to have to listen to sobs the next. At least Nancy’s hormones haven’t been making her angry. I made no promises to Laelaps, she would be free to stay with me or return to her pack anytime she wanted.
I ran and continued traveling, purposely going further and further from town and our shelter, wanting to lead any unwelcome followers as far away from home as possible. After going five or six miles I changed my course and started haphazardly making my way back to my new home. Night had fallen by the time I returned.
Nancy and the new girl seem to get along fine. Laelaps likes the company, easily getting Nancy to pet her, while Nancy, I think, likes the thought of something else to pr
otect her and the child yet within her. I’m not familiar with the dog’s name, I haven’t heard it before. Maybe one day soon, all of this will be over and I’ll have a chance to look it up.
Friday, January 17, 2014
Laelaps seems to have a dislike of being in a closed room. She slept in the shelter with Nancy and me the first night but I could tell she was nervous as soon as we shut the door to the outside world. The following morning she was waiting eagerly at the door, bolting outside as soon as it opened. Any time Nancy or I shut the door and she’s inside she immediately whines to be let out. I don’t know what kind of trauma the dog experienced before I found her (or she found me), but she certainly hates enclosed spaces. I found it easier to set her food and water dishes in the maintenance room, out of sight of the entrance, instead of letting her in and out all the time. She prefers to stay amongst the old boilers and equipment, one of the windows is smashed out and she agilely jumps through it. I think she likes to have a way out just in case too much crap hits the fan, much like I do.
I waited a couple of days before I went back to the prison. If the Reds that locked all those monstrosities in there, after laying waste to the place, have been paying any attention at all, then they know I was the one that cleared the facility. If they were waiting for me to return, I want them to get bored and lax. Besides, I had to locate some new tools first. Specifically, I had to find some good snips to cut a back entrance through the fences and some high temperature flares to burn through the locks of the prison doors.
Laelaps chased after me the whole way, occasionally stopping to play with one of the undead. She would charge one, knocking it over and then when it would try to get unstably to its feet, she would knock it down again. The energetic dog would continue this, tail wagging fiercely until she tired of the game, sinking her teeth deep into the things neck and snapping its spine.
When I was cutting the fence, entering opposite the gate, I wasn’t concerned with the fence being secure anymore. There was no way I was going to try and live in the prison, it was watched far too closely by the Reds. I was only interested in finding other immune survivors or seeing what I could scrounge.
All the doors on the building nearest my hole in the fence were locked, so I thought I might as well start my explorations with the closest building first. I lit the flare, the flame burned bright and hot. After a few minutes of heat, the lock glowed red hot and then the handle itself warped. One hard blow from the hilt of my sword broke the handle off, taking with it the melting lock. Then I simply jammed my sword blade into the smoking hole and turned. Old paint smoked and burned as parts of the lock broke free and granted me entrance.
Once inside, the atmosphere changed dramatically. Old musty air, laden with the stink of death and human refuse clogged my nostrils. Even though the sun was shining outside, it was dark inside the building. Small windows, laced with security wire, let in barely enough light to see by.
Some of the doors gave me trouble, a few required some extended cutting with my crude torch and wouldn’t open until kicked and smashed with swift kicks and the butt of my weapon.
It was while busting down an interior door that there came to me the faint sounds of someone pounding and shouting at me, trying desperately to get my notice. Somebody was still alive inside and I doubled my efforts to make my way deeper into the interior.
I came to the center of the huge cell block and there, pounding and yelling on the glass of a central community room, was a wild eyed and overly excited middle aged man. Tables and chairs, bolted securely to the floor, were staged symmetrically around the room surrounded by rows of cells.
I know he was happy to see someone finally rescue him. For being locked up for such a long time he looked healthy. He had obviously been eating, although he appeared a tad under weight. What he had been eating I didn’t find out until later. As soon as I broke down the door he tried to happily hug me, almost seeming depressed when I aimed my rifle at him to keep him at a distance. He was talking fast and slightly crazed, wanting only to get outside to freedom as quickly as he could. Laelaps didn’t care too much for him though, she snarled at him, blocking the door, refusing to let him pass.
With Laelaps guarding the door I told the guy that I had no idea who he was and he wouldn’t be getting out of here until I did a check of the rest of the cells. He didn’t like that at all, he kept telling me that there no other people in here there with him, that he was all alone. I wanted to make sure of that myself and the further I got into the cell block the more the distinct smell of death invaded my nose. A couple of the middle cells held the remnants of food stores, empty cans and boxes lay stacked along the walls and covered the floor. There was a lot of trash but not enough in my mind to keep someone feed for a year in isolation. The guy was saying how he just wanted to leave and was asking me a ton of questions, more and more frantically, with each step I took. By the time I reached the last of the cells, I could see old, dried blood that had seeped from the cell. It was then that the guy tried to run past my loyal but hairy friend, stopping in his tracks once I let off a warning shot past his head. He was quiet then, with tears welling up in his eyes.
In the cell, were old and not so old bones. Crudely cut and tooth gnawed bones of three other people were in there. It was obvious what the man had gone through to survive in here. The trapped survivors, facing starvation, killed and ate each other.
There was no hiding now what had happened, the distraught man cried and pleaded for forgiveness from me, breaking down into a mewling child, fearing I would shoot him on the spot. I told him that I don’t know what he had to do to survive, that I was not going to judge him or execute him but that he wasn’t welcome to come with me. He was on his own and could leave just as soon as he stripped and proved to me he wasn’t infected.
Once he had my assurances that I wasn’t going to kill him he quickly complied with what I wanted. All the time telling me his version of what had brought him to this state and all the time me telling him I didn’t want to hear it.
As soon as I called Laelaps to me the man fled. I followed, wanting to make sure the man would go and not try and stay with me. There was only one way out, the way I came. The man, although he ran and rushed to every door in his haste to escape, was easy to keep up with at a leisurely walk. He didn’t know his way around very well, it took him a few minutes to figure out the path of destroyed doors I had created. At last he found the exterior door, and as he said his last gratitude’s to me for letting him free, he joyfully ran outside.
I think he got three paces before he was shot up. I heard the automatic fire and saw the poor man fall dead, his body twitching a few times, through the rectangular security window set high along the cement block wall. I also saw the shooter, and as soon as I recognized the scarlet upon him I also recognized he was leveling a rocket propelled grenade (RPG) in my direction. So I ran, Laelaps on my heels, back through the complex as explosions rocked the building behind me.
After a few explosions there came a silence and I knew I was being hunted. Laelaps ears pricked up as I hurriedly, quietly as I could, burned through more locks to escape the building.
I never saw that Red again, nor any other, as I ran back through the hole I had cut through the fence. The prison was still being closely watched, whatever animosity the Red squad has against those locked inside goes far beyond any normal hatred.
As for the man, whose name I never really caught, all I can think is that at least he didn’t die in that place, like his companions did. I don’t hate him for what he did to live. I don’t respect it either. I don’t believe I would have resorted to cannibalism in the same situation. Neither do I want to find out if I would have if it were me instead of him trapped inside that prison. May the gods have mercy on his soul.
Later on that night, just as dusk started to fall, the distinct sound of tank fire came from the prison grounds. Shell after shell exploded in the distance and after a time, a glow appeared upon the horizon as the form
er prison was ground into dust and ash.
Safe for now, I climbed onto the roof of some nameless business and watched through binoculars the deadly flashes of the exploding munitions. At times the explosions were brilliant and expansive, it was almost like watching fireworks on the fourth of July. The destruction continued on into the night and I left it behind me as I made my way back home. Nancy was fidgety and slightly nervous as I closed off the solid door, blocking off the last of the disturbing noise.
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
I realize it’s been weeks since my last entry. To tell the truth, except for what I witnessed today, there has been little to report.
I have been keeping a low profile, never venturing far from the shelter. At the moment, there really isn’t any reason to go exploring very far. We have everything we need, even the dog seems content. Besides, after drawing the notice of the Reds at the prison, I didn’t want to risk being spotted again. The last thing I want is to be responsible for leading the insane carriers to Nancy.
I did make my way back towards the prison area, my curiosity made me go and see what had happened there. I kept my distance though, viewing the grounds from rooftop. There is nothing left of the buildings at all. Nothing but broken rubble. If I hadn’t known there was a prison complex there to begin with, I wouldn’t have known it had existed at all. The Reds seriously wiped it off the face of the earth.
