Aliens Versus Zombies

by Mark Terence Chapman

  Thinking about all she had lost since then brought tears to her eyes. Then exhaustion took her and within seconds she was asleep.

  It was the first time in months that her sleep was untroubled by dreams of marauding Zoms.

  Chapter Nine

  After thirteen days of rummaging through warehouses and factories without finding any survivors, Chrissy was happy to move on to the next section of the search grid. That one included houses. She’d much rather poke around in someone’s home. At least the photographs and knickknacks reminded her of what life used to be like in the old days.

  Of course, that was a double-edged sword. It also reminded her of what she’d lost, what they all had lost.

  After two more days of searching, they still had found no one. She began to believe that they were the last normal humans in the city.

  That was a depressing thought.

  Chrissy and Moose walked up to the ninth house of the morning. It was a large brick unit at the end of a cul-de-sac. A beautiful house on a large lot, with oak trees creating cool summer shade. There was even a swing set in the side yard and a minivan out front. It was the sort of house Chrissy had always pictured herself living in after she got her degree and married a handsome young man. They’d have two children, a boy and a girl, and she’d drive her kids to soccer games and band practice. That’s how she’d always envisioned her life.

  However, Uncle Jack and the Zompocalypse blew that dream all to shit.

  She rattled the door handle. Locked. That was encouraging. If anyone were hiding inside, of course they’d lock the door. Of course, if they’d fled to the hills in their big, fancy SUV, they’d probably have locked the door behind them, too.

  Still…

  “Moose, would you do the honors?”

  “You betcha.” He raised a knee and slammed his foot into the door. The raised panel splintered inward, leaving a gaping hole.

  Chrissy reached in and unlocked it. The well-oiled door opened without a sound. She chuckled. It’s probably a bit too late for a stealthy entrance.

  They entered and looked around. There was no evidence that zombies ruled the world, at least not in here. Everything was neat and tidy, as if the family had just left for church and would return at any moment.

  “Hello-o-o? Anyone here?” Chrissy called out in a loud voice. “We’re not Zoms.” This drew a chuckle from Moose.

  Announcing themselves was also a double-edged sword. On one hand, if someone were cowering in a closet somewhere, they might be less likely to shoot whoever opened the door if they knew they were human rather than a Zom. On the other, they might be lying in wait for looters. Having Chrissy call out instead of Moose was deliberate. They hoped that she would sound less intimidating than a man with a deep voice might.

  It took only a couple of minutes to establish that there was no one in the downstairs rooms. They proceeded up the stairs and checked the master bedroom first. The vaulted ceiling and ornate molding were impressive, but not as much as the master bath, with a large Jacuzzi tub and marble shower and vanity.

  “Wow. I could get used to this,” she said.

  “You wish.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  They checked the other three bedrooms and baths and found no one. Chrissy did pick up a few items of clothing from one of the bedrooms. They were the right size and hers were getting pretty ragged.

  “Looks like we can cross another one off the list,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  They headed for the stairs until a sound caused them to freeze. They listened intently for a minute. Nothing. Then…a creak, coming from above.

  “A squirrel, maybe?” Moose suggested in a whisper.

  “Big-ass squirrel. Look.” She pointed. There was a hatch in the ceiling.

  “How do we get up there?” he asked. “That’s ceiling’s a good ten feet high. I don’t see a ladder, do you?”

  She shook her head, and then noticed a bank of three light switches on the wall near the hatch. She walked over to it and flipped the first one up. The ceiling light in the hallway turned on.

  Moose looked up. “They have power here! Why do rich folk get all the breaks?”

  Chrissy put her finger to her lips. Then she flipped the second switch. A faint light was visible in the narrow gap surrounding the hatch. She flipped the third switch and the hatch began to open. As it tilted downward, a ladder gradually deployed until it touched the floor.

  “Saw that in a Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous episode, once.”

  “Huh.”

  She leaned her rifle against the wall and went up first. “Don’t shoot. We’re friendly. Honest.” She held her hands over her head so anyone above could see she wasn’t carrying a weapon. Of course, she had a .45 in the holster on her thigh, if necessary.

  Chrissy slowly raised her head above the lip of the hatch, just high enough to see over the top. She pivoted until she could see both ends of the room. There were boxes and stacked furniture covered in drop cloths, and a floor-standing tilting mirror in a corner. In the mirror she saw a woman’s shoe—and then it moved. Someone was hiding behind a stack of boxes.

  “Ma’am, we know you’re up here. We’re friendly, I promise. We’re just looking for survivors.”

  “G-g-go away. We’re fine. Just leave us alone!”

  “Ma’am, we’d like you to come with us. We have a nice, safe place to live and you’re welcome to join us. We’re trying to rebuild. So we’re looking for as many survivors as possible. Don’t you want to feel safe again?

  “J-just go away.”

  Chrissy climbed the rest of the way up and stood in the attic. Her hands were still up. “I promise, we’re not here to hurt you. Just come out and we can leave.”

  “No! Go away!”

  Chrissy started walking slowly toward the voice. “Ma’am, please come out.”

  She saw a hand peek around the side of one of the boxes. The hand held a revolver.

  She dove for the floor a split-second before the gun went off. A breeze tickled her ear as the bullet missed her head by inches.

  She reached for her own gun, only to hear a click-click-click coming from the other woman’s gun. Empty chambers. She listened as four more clicks sounded, and then one more.

  “Ma’am, you’re empty. I’m coming toward you. Please don’t do anything foolish.”

  Chrissy took four more steps and then she was around the boxes. Behind them stood a slight woman in her early-forties, and a shaggy haired teenage boy who looked to be fifteen. The woman attempted to shield the much taller boy behind her. She looked terrified.

  Chrissy lowered her hands slowly and smiled. “It’s okay, I promise. We’re not here to hurt you.”

  “Are-are you sure?” The woman was clearly still frightened, but her voice held a hint of hope.

  “I promise. Come on down and pack some clothes and we’ll take you with us.” Chrissy turned back toward the ladder, where Moose waited, rifle at the ready.

  “Oh, thank God!” She began to cry and stepped aside to let the boy precede her. “We-we’ve been alone for months, since my husband and daughter—” Her voice broke.

  Chrissy’s voice softened. “We understand.” She started down the ladder. “What’s your name?

  “I’m Marcie Conroy. This is my son, Jason.”

  “Hullo,” he said.

  “Hi, Jason. It’s a pleasure to meet you both” Chrissy flashed her friendliest smile. “Welcome back to the human race.”

  Jason smiled, too. Marcie didn’t smile, but at least she didn’t look scared anymore.

  “Let’s get you two packed and then we can leave.”

  Twenty minutes later they were on their way back to The Castle.

  Would you look at that? We have our first recruits.

  * * * *

  Platoon Regulator BlexJasp was pleased. The VranTan’s Breath was doing its job to perfection.

  Ahead of the vehicle, nearly a dozen indigenes scattered as the Breath licked at them
from behind. Three had already been roasted, and another ran off with ragged clothes and hair on fire. The Breath engulfed another one dead ahead. It fell, screaming, and the vehicle rolled right over it, crushing whatever life it had left out of it.

  BlexJasp’s men managed to toast two more before the rest got out of range. The other vehicle followed behind with foam, should it be needed, but also with weapons. They managed to pick off four of the creatures that outran the Breath. That was ten for this engagement, without a single loss on their part.

  That’s more like it.

  Over the past three weeks, BlexJasp’s platoon had killed hundreds of indigenes, and herded hundreds more ahead of them. They weren’t bright enough to double back after the Drahtch had left. As a result, more of them ended up inhabiting less territory, creating a more target-rich environment every day.

  Even better, on more than one occasion, BlexJasp had seen packs of indigenes fighting one another.

  Let them kill themselves off. Save us the trouble.

  He smiled. It won’t be all that much longer before we have this city cleared and can begin offloading some of the colonists.

  After more than eighteen years in space, he was looking forward to getting this mission over with and settling down—but not until he’d killed every damn one of these beasts.

  Something clattered against the side of the vehicle. It did no damage. BlexJasp watched as it rebounded and clattered on the roadway. A metal pipe. A gunner in the rear vehicle fired and the indigene fell from the third-floor window with a splat.

  BlexJasp frowned. They were seeing more instances of indigenes using weapons against them. Maybe they were only rocks and pipes, and the occasional bladed weapon, yet that was new, just in the past two weeks. If the trend continued, it could pose problems in the future.

  What if they figured out how to use something more dangerous than a knife?

  * * * *

  “One, two, three… Come on, it’s your turn. Try it.” Little Amanda held up three fingers in front of Jay’s face.

  She closed her fist and started over with the thumb. “This is one.” She raised her index finger. “This is two. And this is three!” Again, she held up the same three fingers.

  Jay puzzled over the meaning of what she was doing. There was something familiar about it. He couldn’t figure out what it was.

  Amanda tried again. “One...two…”

  “T-t-t…”

  “Amanda beamed. “That’s it! Try again. One…”

  “Wa. Wa. Wa. Wa.”

  “You’re really close. How ‘bout three? Three.”

  “Tr. Tr. Tre. Tree.”

  “You did it! I’m so proud of you!” She threw her arms around Jay and gave him a big hug.

  Jay’s cheeks got warm. He smiled.

  “Tree.”

  “Yes! Now say one.” She sat back down and held up his thumb. “This is one. Say one.”

  Jay looked at his hand for a moment and wiggled the thumb. “Wa. Wuh. Won.”

  “Yay! You got it!”

  Jay smiled again, only wider this time.

  “Okay, now say two. Two.” She raised his index finger beside his thumb. “Two fingers. See?”

  “T. Tuh. Toooo.”

  “Yes, yes, yes! You got them all!” She gave him another big hug.

  “Okay! Now…we’re gonna do all three, okay? Okay?”

  He gave the half-nod he’d learned from her a few days earlier.

  “Okay. Here goes… One.” She held up her thumb and waited for him to do likewise.

  He did. “Won.”

  “Now, two!” She raised the second digit.

  He copied her. “Tooooooo.”

  “And three!” She now held up all three fingers.

  He did as well. “Tree.”

  “That’s so good!” She beamed at him and he returned the grin.

  “Okay, now all three. One, two, three!”

  “Won, tooo, tree.”

  “Ooooh! You’re so smart! I love you, Uncle Jay!” Once again she jumped up and threw her arms around Jay and gave him the biggest, bestest hug her little arms could manage.

  For the first time, he hugged her back, still smiling.

  He liked this game.

  Jay gazed around the room where the rest of the pack rested. Most showed no interest in the game. A few looked his way. Curious?

  “Okay, Uncle Jay. You keep practicing. Tomorrow I’ll teach you to count to five. Once we get to ten, I’ll teach you the alphabet song. Okay?”

  Jay didn’t understand what she said. Still, he liked listening to her talk.

  “And, for being such a good student, here’s your prize!” She held out a bag of cheese curls.

  His face lit up again, and the two of them dug in.

  Chapter Ten

  After a month of searching for other survivors, Chick Daniels was frustrated.

  Since the initial two that Chrissy and Moose recruited, they had found only six others, and three refused to join them. Emphatically. At gunpoint.

  Daniels understood the fear and uncertainty. After well over a year of running and hiding from zombies, marauding humans, and now aliens, it was easy to be paranoid of everyone and everything. That didn’t help him in his quest to save as many people as possible.

  He stopped and peered around the edge of the building. After a few seconds of watching, he decided that it was clear. He waved Jesse forward.

  Just as the two rounded the building, something large and fast appeared on the other side of the structure. It was an alien vehicle whizzing by.

  He held out an arm to stop Jesse. The two ducked back around the corner of the building and held their breaths. The aliens fired their sort-of-flamethrower at something ahead, out of the humans’ view. A second vehicle raced past them, just behind the first.

  Daniels’ eyes were wide and his chest heaved. Veins pounded in his temples, fueled by adrenaline. That was close. Too close. Had they stepped out from the building a second or two earlier, they would have been toast—literally. Daniels needed to be more careful. It would take only one mistake to get them both killed.

  The aliens’ strange vehicles were nearly silent, except for a soft humming that was only audible when they were near, and the whoosh of air caused by their passage. There was no warning that they were in the area—except, occasionally, for the screams of the Zoms they roasted.

  Daniels’ people were seeing more and more alien patrols, and they fired at anything that moved. His team had nearly been spotted several times as the aliens suddenly rounded a corner.

  They waited another minute to be sure there wasn’t anyone else coming. Then they ran as fast as possible to the warehouse on other side of the street.

  The large door sported a padlock. They worked their way around to the side, checking the windows as they went along. The windows were all protected by chain-link fencing welded to a steel frame over the glass. There were no doors on the side, and all the windows were likewise protected.

  The back of the building contained eight loading docks. Each dock had a large roll-down door for deliveries, as well as a normal door. The two men took turns trying the doors while the other stood with his gun at the ready. The first six pairs of doors were locked and offered no easy access. The only windows were high up and unreachable.

  When Jesse tried the seventh “people door,” the knob turned, but the door didn’t open; it rattled. It wasn’t locked, like the other ones. It felt more like it was secured from the inside with something loose-fitting. Daniels turned the doorknob and pulled the door as much as he could. That created a small crack that he could peer through.

  Much of the interior was in shadow; still, there was enough light to make out large equipment: forklifts, tractors, and other things Daniels couldn’t identify. Focusing on the door itself, he made out a 2x4 across the door. “Looks like there’s a board holding it closed.”

  He yanked on the door, and again. It rattled, but didn’t give an inch. He step
ped back and took a larger view.

  There was no way for both men to pull on the door at once. The knob was the only grip point.

  “So, how do we get in, Sarge?” Jesse stood there with an expectant look on his face.

  “Beats me. Let’s check the last bay before we worry about this one. Maybe the last door’s unlocked.”

  It wasn’t.

  The two men returned to Bay 7.

  “Is it really worth a lot of bother?”

  Daniels shrugged. “Somebody locked it from the inside. I suppose they could all be dead, but maybe not.”

  “True.”

  They took another look at the door. Short of taking a power saw to the door, or the hinges,there was no way to force the door open.

  Daniels pounded on the door and hollered, “Anyone in there? We just want to talk.” He waited a few seconds. “Hello-o, anyone there?”

  He waited a bit longer. “Okay, we’re coming in. Don’t shoot. We’re just here to talk.”

  Daniels pursed his lips. “I only see one way to get in. You’re not gonna like it.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Blast our way in—and hope there aren’t any aliens in the area. Of course, if there’s someone inside, he might not be happy to hear us firing weapons. But I don’t see an alternative. Do you?”

  Jesse shook his head.

  “Okay. This is a metal door, so we don’t want to just start firing at it. There might be ricochets. If I pull the door open as much as possible, there should be just enough room for you to slip the barrel of your rifle into the crack and shoot at the board. It might take a few shots, but it should work.”

  “Okay.”

  Daniels grabbed onto the knob and pulled with all his strength as Jesse put the tip of the barrel up against the crack.

  “Be really careful. If that gun slips and you hit the outside of the door, the bullet could go anywhere.”

  Jesse nodded. “Yes, mom. I understand. Okay, here goes.” He took a deep breath and held it. He steadied the rifle and pulled the trigger.

  The door held, but there was an odd sound effect. Outside, the gun made a loud pop. Inside the warehouse, a thunderous echo reverberated.