Deadlocked 5

by A. R. Wise

  "Mother fucker!" I pulled my knee up to push him further away as I reached for my Glock. He grasped at my face with one hand and dug his finger into the wound on my left shoulder with his other. He was trying to pull my wound apart and ripped at it with agonizing effectiveness. He was a bulbous man, and his eyes were milky white as he stared hungrily at me. My blood colored the hair on his chin and his teeth were dripping with saliva as he lashed his tongue out at me. I got the Glock and raised it up with the intention of shooting him under his chin. Then I was crushed up against the counter as more zombies lunged onto the one that had me pinned. They were desperate to share in his meal, and my hand was pinned under the fat man's stomach as his face came within inches of mine. My leg was still between us, but the weight of the horde caused his stomach to envelop me.

  My hand was still on the gun, and I was able to pull the trigger, but it wasn't aimed at the zombie's head anymore. The bullet shot into his stomach, and I felt the explosion of his innards as they gushed out over my hand, but it didn't faze him. My other arm was free, and I pressed it into his mouth so that he couldn't chew on my face. He didn't care what flesh he ate, as long as it was warm.

  I adjusted my aim as best I could, aware there was a good chance the shot would go through him and into my face, but that would've been a better death than being eaten alive. I pulled the trigger with the barrel pushed into his stomach and pointed towards my own head.

  It didn't work. The bullet was lost inside of him, bouncing around in his rib cage and organs. I fired again, and again, but it did little more than stun him. My arm was soaked in his internal slime, and I was able to wiggle it free. The weight pushing down on him had subsided, and I assumed that the horde had left to find an easier meal in the blonde girl that was dead near me somewhere.

  The man on top of me was clawing at my face and biting into my arm. I pushed my arm further into his mouth so that I could get a better shot. I lifted the Glock and looked away as I prepared to shoot him.

  Just before I could take the shot, a red axe slammed down into the top of his head. Black blood spurted out onto my face as the zombie's jaw quivered and then fell slack. Behind him, standing on a mound of decapitated bodies, was the blonde girl I'd assumed was dead. Her skintight jumpsuit showed no signs of the white color it once was, and she appeared as a nude statue, bathed in black blood, as she jerked the axe free and stared down at me. Her chest heaved with each breath, and her blue eyes glared at the massacre she'd caused.

  "Are you okay?" she asked me.

  "Jesus fucking Christ, girl. Who are you?"

  "I don't know anymore." Her blank stare and earnest tone were unsettling. Her injuries, and the horror she'd witnessed, could drive even the most stable person to madness. "Get up," she said to me as she looked around. "We need to kill a lot more of them."

  I tried to push the corpse off, but his dead weight was too much and I had to squeeze out from under him. She took my hand to help, and the slick zombie blood that covered everything made it easier to slide free.

  "We need to get to the parking garage," I said as I holstered the Glock, which was dripping in slime, and took the F2000 from around my back instead. I checked the weapon and shook blood from it as I glanced around.

  "You don't want to kill the rest of them?" she asked as if it would be just a minor task to accomplish before going to the garage. "I want to kill more of them."

  "There's a horde out there. We can't kill them all."

  "We could try."

  I looked at her in exasperation. "Where the fuck did you come from?"

  "I've been training my whole life for this."

  Her admission startled me. Before the apocalypse, I'd spent my life training to embark on a mission to murder the people responsible for the end of the world. My life was meaningless without my mission, and her tone sounded eerily familiar. Was she the same as me?

  "What are you talking about?" I asked.

  "I've been underground, at the Facility. Every day I trained with other girls like me to keep our bodies strong and our reflexes quick. We were told that one day we would be sent to the Surface, and I think it was so we could fight these creatures." She slapped the fireman's axe into her palm a few times for emphasis. "I'm good at this, and it's because they trained me to be."

  "I don't know about all that," I said as I inspected the bite on my arm. "If they were trying to train a group of super soldiers, I doubt they'd use a bunch of girls."

  She sneered at me and said, "This girl just saved your ass, tough guy."

  I laughed and conceded. "You've got me there. Let's debate it later. For now, let's get to the garage and see if we can get patched up." I didn't have the heart to tell her she was going to die. I didn’t know who this girl was, or if what she was saying about living in some Facility was true, but her prowess was undeniable. She'd managed to fight off a horde of zombies with nothing but a fireman's axe; she was all right by me.

  The helicopter had passed and we were able to race down the street undetected. There were Poppers everywhere, but the noise from the helicopters that were searching the area made it possible for us to move silently. I heard the chime of bells coming from all across the town as mannequins were slaughtered.

  My shoulder was searing with pain, as was the bite on my arm, but we didn't have time to attend to our wounds now. We'd have to bleed until we got someplace safe.

  "You still haven't told me your name," I said as I held the girl's hand to guide her along behind me.

  "I used to be called Cobra Dawn, but I don't want that name anymore."

  "Why not?"

  "Because it'll remind me of someone who died."

  "Okay then, what should I call you?"

  She shrugged and said, "I don't know. You pick a name for me."

  "Well, you're kicking ass with that axe. I could just call you Axe."

  She shook her head and frowned as she looked at the axe in her hand. "No. I don't want to be called something mean or ugly like that. I want to be named after something that makes people happy - something that gives people hope."

  I immediately thought of my conversation with Harrison about the satellites and shooting stars. "How about something about the stars? Like Celestial, or Celeste?"

  She looked up at the stars above and smiled. "That's nice. I like that. You can call me Celeste."

  "Okay, Celeste, my name's Ben. It's good to meet you." We slowed down as we got to the corner that we had to turn down to reach the garage. I pressed my back against the wall and peered around, hoping to see a clear street ahead.

  It was empty. My diversion with the car had worked, and the area between the entrance to Vineyard and the parking garage was clear of Poppers. Celeste and I ran alongside the buildings as the helicopter continued to circle above.

  Then we heard a loudspeaker crackle to life and a man's taunting voice call out from above. "Come out, little piggies," said one of the helicopter pilots. He started to make pig sounds and then laughed. "Here little piggies. Come on out and die for us." He gave a wicked, taunting laugh and continued. His helicopter came closer and I moved inside one of the buildings with Celeste to avoid his spotlight. I made sure to check my surroundings this time and was thankful to find the building was clear.

  "We've got all night, little piggies. The others are headed back to refuel, but I'm staying right here. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." The loudspeaker made his voice sound mechanical and somehow more maniacal. "Then, in a few hours, another helicopter is going to come back, and after that one, another one, and then another, and another, and another. We're not leaving until every last one of you little piggies is slaughtered. The wolves are here, little piggies."

  "That guy's an asshole," said Celeste. "Why does he keep calling us piggies?"

  "It's a derogatory term. I've heard other military types use it for the people living outside of the compounds." Most survivors had heard rumors of the military complexes that were hidden throughout the country, but very few
people had ever been in one and lived to talk about it. I'd been in and out of several.

  The helicopter moved away and I started to head back out onto the street when Celeste held me back. "Wait, look." She pointed to the left, back the way we came. A few zombies had been attracted to the noise from the helicopter and chased it down the street, toward our hiding spot.

  I shrugged and said, "Well, you said you wanted to kill a few more of them."

  She looked back down the street again and then at me. "There're three of them." I was about to suggest that I take two and she kill one, but then she gave me a pleading look, like a child asking for a treat. "Can I kill them all? Please?"

  The girl was soaked in rancid, infected blood, and the creatures had savaged her already. She was going to die anyhow, so I decided to let her have her fun. "Go ahead. Be my guest, kid."

  She wasted no time and ran down the street toward the three zombies. I aimed my rifle at them, just in case she was overwhelmed, but there wasn't any reason to worry.

  The creatures saw her coming and rushed at her, but she was already swinging a wide arc with the axe and the closest zombie toppled over as its head bounced off the pavement behind it. I was stunned by her strength. It was no small feat to decapitate a Popper, but she did it with ease. I expected her to retreat after the first kill, but she used the momentum of her swing to spin around and extended her left leg to trip the next zombie that dared come within range. With the second one left scrambling to get up, she focused on the third. She brought the axe back over her shoulder and then, with one hand gripping the weapon near its head and the other at the base of the handle, swung as if wielding a sledgehammer. Her strike hit the creature in the center of its head and brought it swiftly down, dead, to the pavement.

  The zombie that she'd knocked down didn't bother to stand, and instead crawled at her. She dislodged the axe from the third creature and then quickly moved to decapitate the only survivor.

  Celeste returned to me with a smile and said, "Thanks. That was fun."

  "Wow. You weren't kidding about being good at this." I held my rifle out towards her and said, "Are you as good with a rifle?"

  She shook her head. "I've never shot one."

  We continued walking towards the garage as we talked. "Really? They trained you with an axe but not a gun? That doesn't make any sense."

  "I wasn't trained with an axe. We sparred with sticks, but never with anything sharp." She ran her thumb across the polished edge of the fireman's axe. "After training with staves, using this almost feels like cheating."

  "Wait until you get a sword, then you'll really start having fun."

  We didn't run into any more Poppers until we got to the garage entrance. The ramp to the underground area was littered with bodies and we had to climb over them to get down. A gate had been pulled shut to bar the entrance to the garage and it looked as if the survivors of Vineyard had used the partition to kill anything that dared come near. The creatures at our feet hadn't been shot, but stabbed to death.

  "I don't believe it," said Hero from the other side of the gate. He was sitting on the back of a parked car with a spear that was dripping with black blood. "You're alive." He got up and set the spear against the wall as he unlocked the gate and tried to pull it open. His spear was just a broom that he'd snapped the end off of, but it had been an effective weapon. We had to move several bodies before the gate could budge, and once it did we were only afforded a small gap to climb through.

  "You look like shit," said Hero once we were inside.

  "We got bit," I said and looked at the wound on Celeste's shoulder.

  "Yeah, and you fucking lied to me too," said Hero. "You said you got bit before you took off in the car to be a diversion."

  "I wasn't lying. I did get bit." I rubbed my thigh where the old bite was still aching.

  "Sure, but you forgot to mention that you were immune. Harry told Kim that you were immune. Is that true?"

  I shrugged and asked, "Maybe, I didn't know he was running around telling everyone that. Where is the old guy? I'll let him know I'm not dead."

  Hero's demeanor darkened. "Everyone's down at the lowest level, but I didn't see Harry come through. I don't think he made it out."

  "You're talking about Harrison? The old man with the dog?" asked Celeste. Hero and I nodded and looked at the lithe girl as she pointed back towards Vineyard. "I saw him up on the roof, near the bridge to the bank. He had the dog with him and a backpack that had a rope on it."

  I excitedly turned to her. "Was he alive?"

  She nodded and my heart raced until she added, "But I think he was shot. I'm not sure, but his head was bleeding. I think he might've been shot in the head."

  "But he was alive when you last saw him?"

  "Yes."

  I looked at Hero and he started to shake his head. "Don't be nuts, man. I liked the old fucker all right, but going back out there is suicide."

  "I already tried to kill myself once. Turns out I'm not that good at it."

  "You dumb mother fucker," said Hero. "Fine then, I'll go with you."

  "Me too," said Celeste. "I wouldn't mind killing a few more."

  "No. You two stay here. She's been bit," I pointed at Celeste's wound. "You need to get her someplace safe and get her patched up."

  "So you can go play hero by yourself? That's my job, man. How else do you think I got my name?"

  "Well then be a hero and help protect the people here. There's still a horde of zombies out there looking for us along with some asshole in a helicopter. The people you've got down here need your help more than me."

  Hero's nostrils flared in frustration as he glowered at me, but he knew I was right. Heading out into the city to find Harrison was a foolish quest, and we didn't need to risk any more lives than necessary. "Fine. But if you're going to go, take this. It's the last one I've got." He handed me one of the flash bang grenades that he'd found in the back of the car. "If the zombies come at you, just throw this and close your eyes. It'll stun them for a bit and give you a chance to run. The blast will still fuck with your eyes a little even if they're closed, so try and cover them with your arm when the blast goes off."

  "Okay, thanks." I took the grenade and put it in my pocket before heading back to the entrance.

  Hero helped me open the gate again and I slipped through. He stopped me before I could leave and said, "Good luck, you fucking idiot."

  I saluted him and headed off.

  CHAPTER 10 - Suicide

  BEN WATANABE

  The streets were empty, but I knew the zombies would be coming back soon.

  "Come on out, little piggies." The helicopter was nearby and the zombies were attracted to it. I could hear their feet slapping on the street as they chased the spotlight.

  The entrance to Vineyard seemed miles away, but I'd already made it a third of the way before the helicopter swung its light down my street. Instead of diving into a hiding spot, I laid down of the ground to feign death as the spotlight roamed. It shined on top of me as the pilot called out a taunt, "Here little piggy."

  The light moved past me and I glanced up to watch him fly away. There were two of them in there. A soldier was perched on the side with a rifle aimed down at the street as the pilot guided the helicopter at a perilously low altitude.

  Then the light swung back toward me. I set my head back down and continued to pretend to be dead, but something had tipped them off. They put the light on me and left it there.

  "Look at this little piggy. I don't remember seeing one of our guns on anyone down there before. Stop pretending to be dead, piggy. I see you."

  I cursed as I realized how they found me. The F2000 was strapped to my back, and the distinctive style of the gun was something they would've remembered seeing on one of their previous rounds. I was certain the sniper was lining up his aim and knew that I only had seconds to move.

  I rolled to the side and raised my Glock. The spotlight blinded me as I stared into it, but its position
helped me determine where the sniper was sitting. I fired the remainder of the bullets in the gun and heard a single sniper shot crack through the air. Pavement exploded beside me and I rolled to the left again as the helicopter turned to keep me in the sniper's line of fire. I knew the chance of one of my bullets hitting the sniper was slim, but I needed to buy myself time to escape. I pulled another magazine from my pocket and jammed it into the gun to fire off another series of shots.

  The light wavered and I was afforded a momentary view of the sniper peering down at me. I felt the wind caused by the chopper blades pushing violently at me as I rolled to a crouched position. I should've run and tried to avoid the sniper's shot as I ducked into a building, but I didn't. For no reason other than ignorant bravado, I was certain I could make the shot.

  I aimed to the side, aware of the effect the chopper's torrent would have on the bullet's trajectory, and trusted my aim. I could see the lens of his scope pointed at me and I stared directly into it. One of us was about to die, and he wasn't compensating for the wind.

  Our shots fired at the same instant and I felt his bullet slice through the air beside my face. The power of his rifle had all but negated the wind's pull, but the effect was just enough to make him miss. My aim, however, was perfect.

  The sniper fell from the helicopter, but his waist was tied to a support line and his body dangled as his rifle hit the ground. I couldn't help but cheer and then flip off the pilot. "Fuck you, mother fucker!"

  The helicopter adjusted its position and I knew I was in trouble. The pilot aimed his chain gun down at me and I had only seconds to get out of his sight.

  "I'm going to kill you, you piece of dog shit!" The pilot screamed into the loudspeaker, causing his voice to distort into a demonic howl. He fired, but I was already safely inside one of the buildings. Unfortunately, the commotion he caused was attracting the attention of every zombie in the area, and he knew it.