Rise of Chaos 3

by Griffin Smith

  Episode 3

  (Infidel Justice)

  Most of the group had joined Mason and Brody on the wall. They looked in terror as they witnessed their impending doom becoming a reality. There were thousands of feeders being released from the League of Islam’s amphibious troop transports. These were not the slow, sloppy disorganized feeders that they had first encountered when the Annihilation epidemic began.

  They were moving incredibly fast, they were more skeletal, almost just skin and bone, with a wild look of murder in what was left of their subhuman zombie-like faces. It was an intimidating sight. Mason looked around at his ragtag group of survivors, and noticed the paralyzing look of fear in their eyes.

  The mortar bombardment had temporarily stopped, but its effects were catastrophic. There was a white smoke rising from inside the walls, and small fires were everywhere. Sobs and screams were clearly heard, rising up from all of the wounded that were blown to pieces and lying everywhere inside the camp. The frontal assault from these new super feeders was alarming. They had breached the first two, six feet tall, razor wire defenses like butter. They had no fear, they felt no pain, and they just trampled the razor wire like a herd of cattle, and kept coming. They would be across the third fence soon, and just plow right through the camp.

  Brody and Kalen were firing the .50 Cals from the gun emplacements, but it was like shooting at raindrops in a thunderstorm. The effect was minimal; they were just wasting ammo. The super feeders were gaining ground fast, and they were almost out of time.

  Pualani roughly grabbed Mason’s arm and shouted to him over the chaos, “Mason, we gotta get out of here. I’m not dying like this, what are we gonna do?”

  Mason stared at her, dumbfounded. He was confused and dizzy as he stammered, “I, I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know, what the fuck do you mean you don’t know?” Pualani roared as she slapped him across the face as hard as she could manage. “Snap out of it, we need you. We need you now!”

  It seemed as if time stopped for Mason. The sting of his cheek mixed with the smell of death, and their impending destruction had triggered a basic human survival instinct in him. “We have got to get outta here, we need to make it to the boats!” Mason shouted, to no one in particular.

  “Kalen, find Cap'n Tony and secure whatever boats we have left, that's our ticket outta here. Brody, take Mambo and bring all of the supplies we have left to the boats. Pualani and I will round up any survivors and meet up at the boats. Let’s move, we don’t have much time. If we get separated, we’ll meet at Alamo Island.”

  The group scrambled away with purpose, as the first wave of super feeders slammed into Camp Freedom’s concrete walls.

  Mason followed Pualani down the wall scaffolding and grabbed her by the back of the head. “Thank you for your help up there, but if you ever slap me like that again, I’ll stick my foot up your ass.”

  Pualani smiled, grabbing Mason hand. “Promises, promises.”

  The mortar bombardments had started again, and they were roughly thrown to the ground from the force of a near fatal explosion. Mason jerked Pualani to her feet, making sure she was alright as they turned to see Tracy sitting Indian style, still caressing her dead grandfather.

  Pualani handed her a pistol, and motioned for her to get up. “C’mon Tracy we gotta go, I’m sorry about your grandfather, but we’re running out of time.”

  Tracy stood up slowly, as if she were in a trance. She racked her pistol to make sure there was a round in the chamber, before she stuck the barrel into her mouth and pulled the trigger. The back of her head exploded as brains and bits of bone landed on Pualani’s feet. It was a long second before her decapitated body collapsed on top of her dead grandfather.

  The weight of the feeders had forced the camp gate open and they entered the courtyard en masse. It was a horrifying sight as they moved violently through the camp, breaking off only to feed on the fallen. Mason and Pualani turned and ran for the dock as fast as they could. There was a faint barking through the smoke that Pualani instantly recognized. She saw her twenty pound Boston Terrier lost and helpless, running around in circles, as she started whistling for him. Cujo instantly recognized his mother’s voice and came running towards her, frantically. Pualani didn’t slow down as she effortlessly picked up her little dog and tucked him under her arm—as she ran for her life.

  Mason was running behind her, turning backwards to fire short bursts of his MP5 submachine gun at the group of super feeders that were chasing them. He was scoring impressive head shots and dropping them expertly, but, whenever one fell, it seemed as if three more took their place and they just kept coming at them, faster and faster.

  They rounded the corner of the dock and Mason instantly recognized the solid blue flag, with the gold trident, whipping in the wind. They were greeted by Mambo, Kalen and Brody lobbing grenades and firing into the swarm of feeders that were on their heels. The tugboat started to pull away from the dock as they all jumped for the boat. Kalen waited an extra second too long and slipped off of the edge of the dock, hitting his head and landing unconscious in the water.

  The feeders didn’t stop at the edge of the dock, they launched their wretched bodies into the water, sinking like stones after their prey. Mason dropped his gun and ammo on the deck and grabbed his ax, before he dove into the water after Kalen. Mason noticed some of the feeders were actually swimming towards them. The calm water was alive with bullets flying from the tugboat as Mason swam over to rescue Kalen and side stroked him back to the boat.

  Cap’n Tony had stopped the tugboat, allowing Mason to recover his son. Once Mason got Kalen’s unconscious body to the boat, Brody jumped in to help and they pulled Kalen up over the gunwale and into the stern of the boat. Mason was hanging off the edge of the boat, swinging his ax at these feeders, who were dangerously close to getting a hold of him.

  Once Cap’n Tony saw his son was safely on board, he shouted down from the pilothouse to hang on, and he went all engines ahead full. Mason was barely hanging on as they started to pull away from the feeders, and the now overrun Camp Freedom.

  ****

  General Aazim was watching the destruction of Camp Freedom from his amphibious warship with a sardonic smile. He reveled in the fact that his scientists were able to permeate the Annihilation infection, and make the feeders swifter in their delivery of the infidel justice.

  His reverie was interrupted by the pirate, Billy Boy, and his alarming news.

  “So you dare to come here without any infidel prisoners, and tell stories of how you were defeated by terrorists?” Aazim asked as he spat at Billy Boy.

  “There’s more general,” Billy boy said, lowering his head while he related the disastrous events of the cove.

  Aazim lost his temper upon hearing that his soldiers were murdered, and began to violently beat the fat pirate with his fists. “You worthless dog, how is it you are the only one that escaped?” he asked, pummeling Billy Boy relentlessly.

  “You treacherous fool, you had only a simple task to complete, and you failed. Your incompetence has cost the lives of my soldiers,” Aazim shouted, changing his assault to a flurry of kicks in the face of the—now bloody and battered—pirate.

  Aazim suddenly recovered from his fit of rage, after realizing that his brother Abdul was one of the soldiers dispatched to retrieve the infidel women.

  “Guards, remove this infidel dog from my sight!” Aazim barked, imperiously, as the now unconscious pirate was dragged out to a holding cell by his ankles.

  “Amayr, what news of the patrol boat that was dispatched yesterday to aid the pirates and recover the infidel women?” Aazim asked of his lieutenant.

  “General, we have recovered the remains of what we believe was the patr
ol boat and its crew, you may want to have a look at it,” Amayr replied, sheepishly.

  “Take me there now,” Aazim said, following his lieutenant down to the main deck and into the wet well staging area of the warship. They walked past several LCU’s, loaded to the hilt with these new super feeders. They were the shock troops for the League of Islam’s invasion of the southeastern United States.

  They were crammed in like cattle, and smelled like death. Their wiry, gaunt appearance no longer even remotely resembled a human being. Their high pitched shrieks bemoaned their battle cry. They were now only Berserker-style killers, they were the harbingers of the infidel’s justice.

  Aazim was not prepared for the sight he was witnessing before him. Four of his soldiers, including his brother, were tied to each other and were wearing Burkhas. They had been eaten alive by feeders. He recognized his—now faceless—brother. His intestines were gone, only an empty shell of flesh remained.

  Aazim stood over his men as tears formed in his eyes. “These men are martyrs. They are to be buried immediately, exactly as they were found.” Aazim turned to address the large group of soldiers that had gathered around this gruesome sight.

  “Death is only a departure from this world. These men have attained eternal life. They are martyrs, soldiers of god, lent to us from the prophet Mohammed. They will now return to him and receive god’s mercy. They shall have peace and happiness in their life to come. We will mourn these men for three days, we will avenge these men with the infidel justice,” Aazim said, raising his voice to a shrill.

  The soldiers cheered him as he turned to leave. He decided he would have another conversation with the infidel pirate, Billy Boy.

  Billy Boy was curled up in the fetal position in one of the Officer’s staterooms, when General Aazim entered. He knelt down to the pirate and gave him some water. “Drink this, and tell me all of what you know,” Aazim said, gently.

  “We were attacked by a group of men. They killed everyone; I barely got away. They had grenades and automatic rifles,” Billy Boy said, gulping down the water given to him by Aazim.

  “You were attacked by terrorists?” Aazim asked.

  “Yes, I recognized them, they were from Camp Freedom, and they came to rescue the women. Their leader goes by the name Mason, and there were more. I can find them, I can help you. I can deliver them to you. No one knows these small islands like I do,” Billy Boy said, begging for his life.

  General Aazim sat back on his heels, and thought about how he had no time for hunting small groups of terrorists. He was given a specific timetable for the coordinated invasion of the southeastern United States. These men were a thorn in his side. They must pay for what they have done, he thought, as he stood towering over the pathetic pirate.

  “You will find these men; you will hunt these men and bring them back to me alive. I will deliver the infidels’ justice to them personally. You will act as a guide and scout for my lieutenant, Amayr. You will not fail me again. If you do, your usefulness to me will have ended, and you will suffer the same fate as your terrorist brethren.”

  “I’ll find them, General, I know exactly where they’ll be. I won’t let you down again,” Billy boy said, hissing through his crooked, black teeth.

  ****

  The beaten and battered group pulled into Alamo Island. They weren’t greeted by concrete walls or well-trained armed guards this time. There were maybe thirty or so people left alive from the attack on Camp Freedom. They looked hopeless, tired and hungry. The attack had more than broken their spirits, it had paralyzed their will to fight.

  The Admiral had carefully chosen this narrow barrier island because of its buffer area that used to be used for NASA space shuttle launches. It was a brilliant idea for a rally point, a place to regroup and reorganize. It was an unpopulated national seashore before the infection spread, and served as a pristine home for wildlife. Mason marveled at the bald eagles flying from their nests, the sea turtles, dolphins and manatees curiously coming close to the tugboat to greet their new visitors.

  Animals and wildlife appeared to be immune to the infection so far, Mason thought, when Brody opened fire from the port side of the tugboat.

  “Alligator tails anyone?” Brody said.

  A muscular flat tail appeared on the water first, connected to a twelve foot and nearly eight hundred pound immense adult alligator. Brody had scored a head shot on this creature, and was licking his lips hungrily for the meal to come.

  “I’m not eating an alligator,” Pualani said, disgustedly.

  “I don’t think I’ve eaten anything in three days. I was considering eating your dog,” Kalen said to her, playfully.

  “If you even think about that again, I’ll take Mason’s ax and chop you limb from limb before I feed you to my dog. You little, ginger-haired, creepy, mother fucker,” Pualani said, seriously.

  “Alright, alright. We’ll have none of that shit. We need to work together from now on,” Mason said, hopping off the tugboat, helping to beach it. “We need to camouflage the boats we brought in and eat something, and then we all need to talk.”

  It was a full moon with clear skies, hundreds of stars dotted the sky illuminating the island. Mason made his way over to the survivors, who were loosely gathered on the beach, and sat down next to them. He sat in silence, not interested in conversation, he leaned back and closed his eyes.

  Brody had enlisted the help of Kalen and Cap’n Tony to bring in the alligator and dig a fire pit. Mambo, with the help of a few other refugees, fashioned a spit over a low fire and began to roast the alligator. Several others had gone surf fishing with homemade rods and reels. They had hit the jackpot and brought in at least a dozen Bluefish. Some had even found Pompanos for everyone to share.

  Pualani sat down beside Mason and started prodding him in the ribs, until he opened his eyes. “Hungry?” she asked, eating a piece of roasted alligator flesh off of a skewer made from a tree branch.

  “I thought you weren’t going to eat any of that alligator?” Mason asked, yawning.

  “It’s really not that bad; it kinda tastes like chicken. Look, even Cujo likes it,” she said, feeding a small piece of the alligator to her dog.

  “I think I’ll stick to the fish; I don’t think I’ll be able to eat meat for a while,” Mason said, getting up to join the fish fry.

  Cap’n Tony was being bombarded with questions he couldn’t answer. The shock of the present situation had worn off and, now with a full belly, the refugees wanted answers. Mason stood and listened to the same questions being shouted over and over. Cap’n Tony was great to have in a pinch, but he was not a leader of men, like the Admiral was.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “When can we go home?”

  “How long are we going to be on this fucking island, surrounded by alligators?”

  Something clicked in Mason, this isn’t what he wanted. He had finished his time in the Navy and had moved to Florida to enjoy the weather. All he wanted to do was spend his time relaxing on the beach, working at an easy job with no responsibility. This was not to be his destiny, he had to act. He had to take control or he would be responsible for the brutal deaths of even more people.

  “Listen up!” Mason shouted, walking into the middle of the group of people that had gathered around Cap’n Tony.

  “We are in desperate times. We must adapt and overcome, we must fight to survive. Our enemies have captured, tortured and raped our women. They want to exterminate us. We are surrounded on all sides by a dark evil that has come to be a reality, I don’t like it any more than you do. I’m not going to stand here and bullshit you about our situation, not only has the infection taken most of everyone we know, but there is a more pressing threat.

  “The League of Islam is using these feeders to annihilate us, they have even recruited other survivors to help them. We cannot fight them openly, we have to make ourselves invisible. We have to work together, we are the resistance. We will not fortify this island like Ca
mp Freedom, we will raid and harass the enemy on our terms. We will fight them at every opportunity we have, that is favorable to us. We will work together as a military style unit. You will all have jobs and duties, you will all be expected to contribute to guarantee our survival.

  “We will need soldiers, cooks, sailors, people to stand watch, and people to fight. All we can do now is to protect each other and kill all of these fucking feeders, pirates and Muslims that threaten our survival. People will die; people have already died. We are now in a struggle for our very existence as a people. Make no mistake, we are in for the fight of our lives,” Mason said, watching the group take in his every word in a stunned silence.

  “Are you ready for a war?” Mason shouted as he finally finished his speech.

  Everyone was on their feet, this newly formed resistance group was now clapping and chanting, “Kill them all, kill them all, kill them all.”

  Hope. Such a powerful element of the human psyche, Mason thought.

  “Great speech, now what do we do?” Kalen asked, gnawing on a piece of Alligator tail.

  Mason looked towards the sea and took a deep breath before he said, “We hunt them. We use the element of surprise, and when we find them we fucking kill them all.”

  “I love a good hunt, but not tonight. Look what I found,” Brody said, clanking two bottles of Jack Daniels together. “I was saving these for a special occasion and, seeing as we’re all going to end up dead, infected or worse soon, we might as well go out with a hangover.” Brody smiled as he revealed a full case of Jack Daniels behind him.

  “To the resistance,” Mason said as he took a generous swig of whisky and passed the bottle to Cap’n Tony.

  “The resistance,” they each said in turn as they gulped down the first two bottles of whisky like they were water.

  The remainder of the night turned into a much needed debauchery. Bonds were formed, plans were discussed, fights were had and love was made.

  Mason awoke with a throbbing headache to watch the sunrise. He quietly and softly moved a snoring half naked Pualani off of his chest. He was greeted by a bald eagle flying low, with the brilliant purples and oranges of the ocean in the background. The sun’s bright warmth blinded him momentarily as he walked the camp. He saw Mambo and Simone sleeping peacefully together, and Cap’n Tony had a stark naked Luanne sleeping on top of him. Brody was passed out with a bottle of Jack in his hand, and Kalen wasn’t too far away, sleeping face down on the beach.