by Tristan Vick
Major Valentine stood up from her console and turned toward General Greer and shot him a reticent look.
“With all due respect, sir, shouldn’t we call in an airstrike before giving up entirely?”
“No,” grumbled General Greer. “Bigger bombs might put a larger dent in the horde, but it wouldn’t stop them.”
“But, sir—” Valentine protested.
General Greer eyed the major with a gaze of authority so unyielding it stopped her cold.
“And just how many good men and women are you willing to sacrifice to this cluster-fuck before those goddamn planes get here?”
“Sorry, sir. Right away, sir.” Under her breath, Valentine chastised herself for her stupid mistake. “God-fucking-damn it Becky, just keep your fucking shit together.”
Taking a long drag on his cigar, General Greer turned back toward the monitors and watched as the monsters overtook the base’s perimeter. It was only a matter of time before they’d be pounding down his front door.
13
Caged
ALYSSA REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS IN THE brig of a military base. She rose up and looked around the Spartan-room. Nothing special, just your standard prison cell, but what did stand out was the biometric scanner which took both a finger print and an eye scan just to unlock the glass sliding door. The glass of the cell door was at least ten inches thick. Thick enough to stop a grenade. Certainly thick enough to keep anything from getting in or out. All of this was pretty state-of-the-art fancy, but disheartening none-the-less.
“Bugger,” she thought to herself. There was no way in hell she was going to get out other than to have someone come and bust her out.
After several minutes a soldier wearing green camo and a matching cap came into the room and brought her some food. It was a bowl of potato soup, a bread roll, and half a cob of boiled corn. It came with a small carton of milk, the kind she remembered getting as a school girl. Everything sat neatly on an aluminum tray. There was even a slice of complimentary butter wrapped in foil. She ate her dinner down greedily, and the guzzled straight out of the milk carton. Milk dripped down her chin as she took large thirsty gulps.
Sometime after her meal the guard returned and took her tray. She called out, asked how long they’d be keeping her here, but it was like talking to a brick wall. He obviously was under orders not to fraternize with the prisoners. Instead he just took her tray and left the room.
The real question weighing on her mind was why was she being held at all? She hadn’t done anything wrong. She wasn’t infected either. Could they be keeping her here for her own safety? Had something happened to Rachael?
A couple more hours passed. Alyssa sat in a cell bored out of her mind. She had kicked off her shoes and plopped down onto the small fold down cot and sat cross-legged. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why her great uncle Kip had always wanted to keep getting thrown back into jail. There’s absolutely nothing to do behind bars except rot and slowly go insane, but before she could ponder the deeper meaning behind uncle Kip’s recidivism, the base’s alarm went off.
It was an annoying digital tone which sounded like red alert on the Starship Enterprise. Aside from the alarm, Alyssa heard spurts of fully automatic gunfire coming from outside the compound. This was followed by pockets of silence followed by more sporadic spurts of firing.
She stood up and walked over to the glass walls, then back to the cot. She didn’t know what was worse. The waiting around or the not knowing what the hell was going on out there.
Pacing the cell, Alyssa began to understand what a caged animal must feel like. Poor things. Her mind wandered back to all the good animals she had lost at the kennel. Many of them, especially the strays, had become like adopted pets to her. She couldn’t bear the thought of their last few hours filled with nothing but horrible suffering, without getting choked up. She shook the thought out of her mind and paced the room some more.
Suddenly the door opened and a large naked black man followed by a naked white woman entered the cell. They carried a bundle of wadded up clothing in their arms. Before they could begin to get dressed they noticed a young brunette standing behind the plate glass looking at them with wide-eyed surprise. She blushed at seeing two naked people burst into the room from out of nowhere.
“Oh shit!” exclaimed Noble. “Somebody is in here.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” said Jennifer in an annoyed tone. Bending over she slipped on her panties over the curve of her feminine hips. The waistband only partially covered up her blue butterfly tattoo. Pulling on her bra, Jennifer reached behind her back and clasped the hook. Addressing Alyssa, the woman said, “I am horribly sorry about all this.”
“Don’t talk to her, she’s a prisoner,” Noble said as he hopped up and down as he struggled to get on his pants.
“I’m not a prisoner!” Alyssa said defiantly. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Then why am I out here and you’re in there?” Noble asked.
“Don’t be snarky,” Jennifer said with a polite laugh thrown on to help lighten the mood. “My name is Jennifer Hurley.” She nodded with her head toward the tall black man, “And this hunk of gorgeous man-meat is Sergeant Ulysses Noble.”
Noble finished synching his belt and fastened it tight.
“Wait,” Alyssa began, looking past Jennifer and right at Noble. “I know you, somehow. Don’t I?”
“Sort of. I mean, we haven’t formally met. I pulled you out of the wreckage. You were in and out of consciousness. But don’t worry. The doc said it was only a concussion. You’ll live.”
“Thanks,” Alyssa said dryly as she watched him pull on his skin-tight black t-shirt and tuck it into his camo pants.
Jennifer spun around and looked at Noble. “What wreck? You knew she was in here the whole time?” Getting pissed, Jennifer punched Noble in the arm. Flailing her tiny fists, his muscular arms easily absorbed her diminutive blows. “Then why the hell did you bring us in here to change?”
“Hey,” Noble said defensively, throwing up his arms as if he meant to surrender. “I knew she was here at the base. I thought she’d be in the infirmary, not in the brig. So sue me.”
Jennifer folded her arms and pouted.
“Excuse me,” Alyssa said, interrupting their lover’s quarrel. “I am sure your concerns are vital and everything, but I have bigger concerns, like why am I here? Where is my friend?”
“Friend?” Jennifer echoed as she walked over to the cell and pressed her hand against the glass wall between them, as if she was testing its strength. “You mean there is someone else here besides you?”
“Yeah, we were in the accident together.”
“I’m not cleared to talk about it,” said Noble as he finished buttoning up his uniform. “I’m sure someone will be here soon to debrief you and bring you up to speed. But I have to go check in for duty—before anyone gets suspicious.” Before taking his leave, Noble informally saluted and then he was gone.
Alyssa shrugged her shoulders and went over to her cot and sat down. Jennifer leaned up against the glass wall of the prison cell, and drawing imaginary lines on the glass with her maroon finger nails, asked, “Do you mind if I stay here and keep you company for a while? There’s no one back in the room I can talk to.”
Her thoughts flashed to Jesse Zanato, but she quickly rejected the idea of trying to carrying on a mature, adult conversation with him. All he cared about was getting back into her pants. She’d rather die than make that mistake over again. Fanning her hair to the side she added, “I mean, absolutely no one.”
“Fine by me,” Alyssa answered. “I could use some company. I’ve been trapped in here for several hours, it seems, and still nobody has come to explain what the hell is going on.”
From within the prison cell Alyssa Briggs and Jennifer Hurley heard the evacuation announcement given by Major Valentine. They listened in silence until it was over.
“That sounds bad,” Jennifer said bighting her bottom l
ip.
Stepping up to the glass wall, Alyssa looked into Jennifer’s light blue eyes, and begged, “You’ve got to get me out of here.”
“Okay,” Jennifer said putting her hand up to the glass. “I’ll go look for help. Just wait here, I’ll be back for you as soon as I can.” With that Jennifer ran off in search of help. Fifteen minutes later Alyssa began to worry she wasn't coming back.
Alyssa patiently waited in her cage, and then waited some more. She heard the whole thing go to hell outside. The chaotic eruption of fully automatic gunfire echoed through the halls. Every now and again she heard a soldier scream in gut wrenching agony, followed more gun fire, then more screaming. Finally, the gunfire died out but the screaming continued. Terrible screams. Still, all she could do was listen to the death rattles of men and women and pray that somebody would get to her before those creatures did.
Unexpectedly, the main door flew open with a loud clank as it slammed against the wall and an older gentleman limped into the room. He had a large cigar dangling out of his mouth. He was pushing sixty but looked quite handsome for his age. A hard-boiled George Clooney, she thought.
Hobbling up to the biometric lock, he placed his thumb on it and the door opened.
Alyssa stood barefoot in her cell. “Who are you?”
“I’m General—”
“Rrahhh!”
Suddenly an animal-like growl interrupted their conversation. General Greer pulled out his side arm and spun back toward the door to see a walking corpse enter. A large slab of skin was hanging off of the corporal’s face. The peeled back skin revealed patches of white skull bone that shown through from underneath the thin strands of facial muscle. Even with its severe disfigurement, Greer still recognized it as one of his men. Clenching his jaw, the Greer cursed, “Goddammit Anderson.”
Corporal Anderson reached out with bloody appendages and lunged forward. Without hesitating the general put a bullet right into Corporal Anderson’s brainpan. The corporal slammed to the floor with a concrete sounding thud.
“As I was saying,” the general continued, turning back toward Alyssa, “I’m General Thompson Greer.”
“Are you responsible for this?” Alyssa said angrily, pointing at the floor of her cell.
The general gave a somewhat embarrassed look and holstered his weapon. “I apologize for keeping you here, but things kind of got,” he searched for the right words, “out of hand.”
“You think?!”
Reaching out his hand, he said, “Come along, we have to go now.”
Alyssa just gave him the evil eye, letting him know she wasn’t at all pleased with her treatment. Still pissed off, Alyssa stood steadfast in her cell out of protest. “I’m not leaving until I get some answers.”
“We don’t have time for a goddamn sit-in,” implored the general, enticing her to hurry it along.
“Time? I’ve been trapped in here like a caged animal for what seems like ages, what is a few more minutes going to hurt?”
Moaning broke out in the hall, and the general turned to check the door, then looked straight into Alyssa’s eyes.
“I promise you I'll bring you up to speed, but we have to go and we have to go now.”
“Let me grab my shoes on first.”
Alyssa turned around to pick up her sneakers, which she barely snatched up before the general clutched her wrist and towed her along behind him.
“Stay close to me,” informed Greer as he guided her to the door. Peeking around the corner he made sure the coast was clear. Taking a deep breath he raised his gun and boldly stepped out into the hall.
“Where’s my friend?” Alyssa asked.
“Hush up and pipe down,” snarled the general. “You don’t want to draw their attention to us.”
From around the corner two Walkers stepped forth growling and staggering toward them. Alyssa screamed from the suddenness of their blood curdling arrival. Both were the worse for wear. The first of the zombies was missing its entire scalp as well as both ears. A halo of blood from its bowl cut dripped down its hideous face.
The other one was missing the bottom half of its jaw. Its face was even less of a face than the first one. A large bloody gash of meaty nasal cavity took the place of its nose and its teeth dangled in front with an ugly overbite. If these grotesque features weren’t bad enough, burn marks from whatever explosion had taken its face off charred its flesh and clothes. Alyssa felt like screaming again but clasped her hand over her mouth to stop herself.
“Never mind, it’s too late for that,” said Greer. “Baldy and extra-crispy here heard you the first time.”
Greer let go of Alyssa’s wrist and walked boldly down the hall to confront the creatures. As he went he smoothly and calmly raised his pistol. Gripping it tight with both hands he advanced with small steady steps, to better focus his aim. Greer shot twice and dropped both monsters with a couple of precision head shots. Baldy was still writhing at his feet when he reached it, so he put another one through its white capped dome just to be sure.
Alyssa began to approach the middle of the T-junction where Greer stood nudging the thing with his foot, but he raised his hand and stopped her. She couldn’t see what was down the other hallway, but the general fired the remainder of his clip. Emptied out, the general let the empty cartridge fall to the floor and quickly slapped in a new one. He continued firing of round after round. The muzzle flashes lit up the wall at the end of the darkened hall so that Alyssa could see the swarm of bent and twisted shadowy shapes creeping upon it.
Firing away at will, Greer pushed his way down the hallway until he was out of sight. That’s when Alyssa felt the hands wrap around her mouth pull her from behind and the thing dragged her into the darkness.
The barrel of Greer’s gun smoked as the last of the spent shells tinkled onto the floor. “Hoo-fucking-rah!” he said proudly. Turning back toward where Alyssa was, he began, “Bet you didn’t think an old timer like me could…” General Greer’s voice trailed off as he looked up to see only an empty hallway. “Goddammit!”
14
My Zombie Valentine
STAFF SERGEANT JARED BARNES PUSHED against the command room sliding doors. The motors were shot, but they slowly slid open. Suddenly an overflow of office supplies came spilling out of the widening slit. Apparently the entrance had been blockaded by a pile of desks, chairs, and cracked computer monitors that crackled with electric spurts of energy. The light fixtures which hung from the ceiling gently swayed back and forth, casting shadows in their wake. Most of them were nearly burnt out, the bulbs shattered from the fire-fight that chewed up the command center, but a couple stragglers flickered with life—barely hanging by a neon thread.
Squeezing through the narrow entrance way, Barnes entered the room. He was hoping the Major was hanging on by a thread too. He hoped she’d be dug in, saving that last bullet for when she really needed it. “Major Valentine?” he whispered. “Rebecca? Are you in here?”
The pile of clutter shifted and then toppled over making a ruckus as it went. Barnes paused, waited for the noise to subside, and when nothing roused, he continued his way into the darkened room.
Looking around, Barns noticed everything was upturned, and it had all the signs of a last stand. Bullet holes peppered all four walls. Even the computers, obviously caught in the crossfire, sparked and fizzed with war wounds. Papers were strewn about everywhere and blood spatter spackled nearly everything. But oddly, there weren’t any bodies. Which, given the amount of blood there was, worried him to no end. That’s when Barnes felt a cold hollow sensation sink into the pit of his stomach. Amid the flickering lights and the swaying shadows, out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a shadow whisk by.
Barnes quickly drew his weapon and spun around. But there was nothing there. Cautiously, he stepped over some toppled over file cabinets, and made his way toward the general’s desk. It was the only thing in the room that was still standing upright. His foot crunched down on a random fluorescent light bulb
. The crackle and pop of glass sounded much louder in the dead of silence. Barnes paused and listened, hoping that he hadn’t drawn any attention to himself. He raised his weapon and continued slowly toward the desk. Cautiously, he aimed the barrel of his gun over the edge and pointed it at the dark shadow it cast. He jumped behind the desk ready to fire at whatever might be lurking there, but there wasn't anything. Maybe she did get out alive, he thought. He began to feel a slight sense of relief as he turned back around.
“Grrrah!” a female voice growled, and leapt out at him from his blind spot.
Barnes blocked her attack with raised arms but the brunt of her dead weight slamming into him caused them both to topple over the desk together. Pinned beneath her, Barnes gripped her wrists tight and stared at the woman’s face in devastating alarm.
Valentine craned her neck toward him and chomped at the air. Staring at him with whitewashed eyes, her teeth clacked furiously as she tried vigorously to tear into his neck. Unable to get at him she growled angrily. Part of her right cheek had been torn off, revealing her toothy half smile.
Tears began to flood out of Barnes’ eyes as he looked into the mutilated face of Major Valentine. She stared back at him with those damned milky-white eyes.
“No,” he said, holding her back. “Not you, too.”
Barnes rolled his shoulder and thrust his hips as hard as he could. Valentine flipped over and crashed into the floor with a thud. Barnes retrieved his gun, which had been knocked out of his hands, and quickly got back on to his feet.
“Riahhrrr!” Valentine growled, more angrily than before, as she struggled to get up onto her stiff legs. Cocking her head to the side, like a wild animal, she looked at Barnes as if she was trying to recall from memory why he was so familiar. But the struggle to regain any trace of her past humanity soon lost out to the infection’s overriding instinct to feed. She bared her teeth and lunged forward.
