The Shores Of The Dead: Omnibus Edition

by Josh Hilden

  “No Lisa, not at all.” She giggled and then reached out and touched Lisa’s forehead. The touch was warm and loving. “Let me show you.”

  Lisa’s mind was filled with a stream of images. She realized she was watching things from her sister’s perspective. The boat ride to the island, the ruins, the trek to the top of the hill, the death of Larry, Curly and Moe, the way Elliot had changed. Then the three part battle for her soul, and the mental rape that she experienced at the mind of the monster Ast-Murath. Lisa gasped as at the end, her sister confronted the mind of the monster. Then she robbed him of his key to this world. When Sandy drew her hand away, Lisa was sobbing.

  “Don’t cry Sissy,” Sandy said, using the endearment that had faded as they had gotten older. “If I had not done what I did, the thing would have crossed bodily over, and the human race would not have had a chance. As it is now, he has to work through proxies. He needs another who has the right blood to finish the ritual.” She looked right at Lisa as she said the final bit, and again she seemed ancient like the stars.

  “Me?” Lisa asked.

  “I’m afraid so. But a power greater than the monsters has touched these people, and given them a bit of white magic to help you stop the Dark Priest.” Sandy gestured toward the people frozen on the battle field as she began to fade, “But you are the only one that can stop him in the end,” Now she was as transparent as smoke. “I love you Sissy,” she said and then faded away.

  Reality rushed in and reasserted itself.

  Lisa was again lying on the ground, and Sam was looking at her with terror. No time passed as she spoke to Sandy. Liam was on the ground. In the distance, she could see Kyle and the Rangers running to the aid of their fallen leader even though there was no way they would make it in time. Beyond them the Dead were now moving like loping animals toward the defenders. It appeared the men and women behind the makeshift defenses were near the point of running away from the battle. On the bridge, the burned out tanks and fighting vehicles began to roll over the edge of the bridge, and splash into the waters far below.

  Lisa felt charged with enough strength to lift a bus. She jumped to her feet and threw down her rifle. She knew what she had to do. She didn’t understand how she knew, but never the less she knew. Heat was welling up in her body, and she was sweating profusely. For a second, she was the snow around her feet was receding in a pool of water and slush. Lisa began quickly unbuttoning her parka and threw it to the ground, followed by her pants, hat, boots and sweater. She stood there in her tank top and panties, steam pillowing from her skin.

  “Doc…what the fuck is happening to you?” Sam asked. He was afraid, and she could hear it in his voice, but he never moved an inch from his post at her right hand.

  “Don’t be afraid, Sam. I promise you that everything is going to be alright.” She stepped forward. Sam saw that her eyes had become luminescent pools of silver and white light. A bright radiance was beginning to glow from the air around her with no discernible source. Peace flowed into Sam, and even though the light was getting brighter, he felt no need to shade his eyes, and even though the snow all around him was melting, he did not feel uncomfortably warm.

  Sam and the other Wolverines watched the scenes around them. By ones, twos, and tens the Dead froze in their tracks. On the ground and in the trees, green appeared as the grass and the leaves came to life. All of the injuries of the men and women in the immediate vicinity of Lisa were healed in seconds. They felt fresh and well rested despite the battle that they had been waging.

  Sam heard the voice of his friend and his commander in his head and knew what he had to do. “Wolverines! Form up around the Doc and defend her, don’t let anyone or anything near her!” To a person, every one of the people formed a circle around her and waited for what would happen next.

  23

  Kyle

  Everything in Kyle’s world changed as the Rangers raced towards their commander in the middle of the battlefield. Ever since the Dead began to Rise, they’d been slow and stupid, only truly dangerous in packs. Now the Dead were sprinting across the snow, covering ground and closing the distance with the militia men and women left behind to contain the former stumbling and bumbling Dead. Kyle had to make a decision in an instant, either they could continue onward and aid Liam, or they could engage the now running dead and protect the less experienced fighters that they were closing in on.

  “Rangers,” Kyle screamed at the people following him. “Protect the militia fighters!” Without looking to see if they would follow his order he broke stride, turned half way around, and launched himself toward the Dead.

  The Rangers never stopped to consider whether or not they should do as Kyle commanded. To a person, they joined their leader in his efforts to stop the charging dead, even though they would be outnumbered ten to one in such a confrontation.

  Kyle gained the distance on the trailing members of the dead. With both pistols drawn he began to drop one after another, his fire was quickly joined by the other Rangers as they got within small arms range. Close to 100 of the now running dead were taken down when the bulk of the Dead finally realized they were being attacked from behind. They turned amass and came straight toward the Rangers, with Kyle first in their sights.

  “Pikes Out!” Kyle screamed when he’d emptied his last clip. Ammunition had been a problem since they’d left the heavily populated wastelands of the southern part of the state. The word from Lisa that White Harbor was low on ammunition and that the armory at White River had been stripped had been disheartening to say the least. But the Rangers had spent the entire journey north drilling and practicing with their preferred melee weapons. They all stopped and unslung their fighting pikes with the single command. The group braced itself for the confrontation that was tromping across the field.

  The dead bore down on them.

  The first of the Dead that reached Kyle appeared to have been a police officer of some sort. Its uniform was torn and covered in frozen mud. It locked eyes with Kyle and then he promptly caved its head in with the blade end of the pike. Before he could think about it, Kyle was forced to bring the butt end of the pike around and into the skull of another of the Dead.

  Within seconds, the Dead and the living were completely intermingled, and the battle devolved into a series of one on three or ten fights as the Dead began pushing the Rangers back toward the Bridge. In the distance, the militia fighters came up from their defenses and charged the Dead from the other side. Even with the added firepower, the living were still horribly outnumbered by the Dead.

  “Rally, Rally!” Kyle screamed. The Rangers and militia began working their way toward him. Benny was on his left and Clay was on his right. One by one, another of the living joined them as they formed up into a circle three men deep in an attempt to fend off the quick Dead. The Dead fell by the dozens but for every ten that was brought down, one of the defenders was cut from the circle and devoured by the ravenous Dead.

  “We’re not gonna make it.” Kyle said to Clay and Benny as he cleaved another of the Dead down.

  “What do we do?” Benny asked. He still had ammunition for his shotgun and was mowing the Dead down two at a time with the buck shot at short range.

  “The General has the detonator.” Clay yelled. He swung his pike around and three of the Dead were knocked flat. The plan had been simple, once they’d accomplished their tasks, and the forward observers told them that most of the Army of the Dead was on the bridge, Liam would detonate the charges. Nobody expected some inhuman juggernaut to wade through the madness and engage Liam in hand to hand combat.

  “Fuck!” Kyle yelled and fished one of the precious grenades from Ypsilanti from his pack and hurled it into the crowd of the Dead. The explosion was muffled by the bodies. The results were negligible as the shrapnel was absorbed by legs and torsos.

  Kyle was preparing to give the order for them to charge at Liam. If they were lucky, one of them might be able to get to the detonator and blow the bridge. If the
y failed, all of the people in White Harbor were going to be doomed. Including almost every one left in this world that he loved.

  As the order was rising in his throat to erupt from his mouth, the world was filled with a brilliant white and silver light. All around them, the Dead froze in place and fell to the ground. The remaining fighters stared at the Dead in shock, then Kyle heard Lisa speaking in his head and he knew what he had to do.

  “Finish them off!” he yelled and then he turned and ran toward Liam and the monster man he faced. Someone had to get to the detonator. He knew this interlude would not last for long, but they had a chance.

  24

  Liam

  Light filled the air all around them, but the General of the Army of the Dead was unaffected. Liam was still in a semi state of shock from the impact as Baker closed on him. For a minute Liam was sure he was going to die right there.

  Then the light which was still increasing seemed to fill every pore and opening on his body. He was transported in space and time to a place he had not been to in years. Liam could smell the rot and the green of the Mekong Delta, and he could feel the heat and the humidity of the jungle. He was sure that almost 40 years had been peeled away, and he was again slogging through the fetid and rancid mud with the men of his platoon. There was a village he could see in the distance, and Liam was horrified. He remembered this day. This was the day part of his soul had been torn, and he’d been damned for an eternity.

  They’d been on patrol looking for Viet Cong amongst the local villager population. The heat in the middle of the summer was enough to bring down a GI in full battle gear in less than a few hours. They’d been out for more than a week, going from village to village, talking to the headmen, and trying to ferret out traces of enemy activity. Up until this point, things had gone easily, with the villagers welcoming them, and the girls had all been more than willing to lie down and spread their legs for a few green backs.

  When they approached the last little no name village on their patrol route things felt off. As they came near the settlement, the rice paddies that surrounded every village in the god forsaken country were devoid of any activity. The soldiers entered from the South. As soon as they were spotted, people began running around and screaming in that high pitched, nasally language which still set Liam’s teeth on edge.

  Liam was sure the first shot was fired by the villagers, but it was soon eclipsed by the return fire from his men. The sounds of fifty plus M-16 assault rifles and the platoon’s two M-60 machine guns roared through the narrow roads and grass huts. The screams of the wounded and dying filled the air.

  For 10 minutes, the US troops were consumed with a killer lust that grew to an apocalyptic crescendo as Liam ordered them to put the torch to the village. When the Americans marched away from the village, more than two thirds of the inhabitants lay dead and burning while the rest fled into the jungle.

  Liam had spent all of the years since the massacre trying to make some kind of amends for what he’d ordered and what he’d allowed in his rage. Until this moment, he had never found the right time to truly atone for his sins. He’d been sure that he would be damned to an eternity of hellfire.

  Liam felt his pocket quickly for the detonator, and was relieved to find that it was still there. As quickly as he could, he rose from the cold ground and stood in front of the man he was sure would be the death of him.

  “I’m not done with you yet you piece of shit.” Liam gasped at General Baker. Then spit bloody phlegm at the man.

  Baker sprang and swung his axe at Liam, who ducked and countered with a kick right to left knee of the big man. Baker stumbled, and then struck Liam across the face with the back of his hand and sent the man reeling. But Liam did not fall.

  “Is that the best you can do?!” Liam screamed. Then he drew the pistol from his belt and emptied the clip directly into Baker’s chest. The enemy commander stumbled back, but did not fall from the heavy .45 caliber slugs.

  For the next 30 seconds, the two men spun and twirled across the snow, their blades clashing and glancing off of one another. Liam felt like he was 18 again as he went toe to toe with the giant, not in an effort to defeat the man, but simply to delay him as long as he could. The longer that the General was occupied the more of the Army of the Dead would be on the bridge when it fell. But Liam was getting tired, while the General seemed as fresh as ever.

  “I think it is time to end this little dance old man.” Baker said then brought his axe high and swung it into the shaft of Liam’s Pike, which shattered under the blow. Liam was driven to his knees under the impact. He knew the time had come. Liam slipped his hand into his pocket and brought out the detonator, holding it high for Baker to see.

  “You lose, asshole,” Liam said then pushed the button. Behind him a series of 12 explosions rocked the morning air, followed by a concussion wave that knocked Baker and everyone else standing to their knees.

  Everyone stared as the span of the bridge collapsed like a wave rolling into the shore of beach. On the bridge, all of the artillery and armor along with more than 500 of the soldiers of the Army of the One True God and 110,000 of the Risen Dead were dropped hundreds of feet to the freezing water below.

  Baker watched in horror as the force he’d built was destroyed. He winced as the rage from his Master washed through the mark on his head and caused the world to spin all around him.

  Liam saw his foe disoriented and took advantage. He drew his cane, and twisted the hidden lock which released the short thin sword secreted within. The sound of the sword being drawn must have caught the General’s attention, because just as Liam was bringing the blade down to strike the killing blow, he raised his left arm and the thin springy blade bit into the center of Baker’s forearm. It cleaved straight through. Baker screamed from the pain, and Liam was rocked by the impact of the blade on bone.

  Baker stared at the stump that was already clotting. Real honest rage filled him for the first time since Royal Oak. Before he knew what he was doing, he drew the 9mm Beretta and shot Liam Harrison six times in the stomach. The older man dropped to ground.

  He still had a smile on his face.

  Baker advanced on Liam to administer the coup de gras, when several bullets whizzed by him and three impacted his body. He looked and saw more than a dozen people barreling down on his position from the South and one lone figure from the North. He looked around and saw his living troops were gone, and his Dead troops were being slaughtered. Baker was a logical man and knew retreat was sometimes necessary. He took off at a run none of them could match, and jumped into the icy water of the lake, disappearing from sight and not rising to the surface again.

  25

  Around the Fallen Hero

  Liam felt no pain as he lay in the snow. He was vaguely aware that the beautiful light which had permeated everything for the last little bit had faded. All that remained was the faint light of the morning sun. He knew his role in this was over, and he was ready to move on. His only regret was he’d never gotten to see Nancy and Charlie again. But Lisa said they were safe and he believed her.

  He heard the sounds of people gathering around him, and of people weeping and yelling in rage. He wanted to tell them it was okay. He did not want them to be upset, he had been allowed to redeem himself, and his death was as good as he could have hoped. But all that he managed to do was whisper.

  “What did you say?” Lisa said kneeling over him. She looked older to him, and he wondered what had happened to her during the battle. But really it didn’t matter enough to hold his attention, things were getting dark and he really wanted to move on.

  “Take care of our family.” He croaked to Lisa and she nodded. Before she could say anything else, Kyle knelt down beside Liam and took his hand. This made the older man come back to reality for a minute. He had to talk to this young man who was like another son to him.

  “Liam,” he began and then his voice was choked off by the tears he was fighting to hold back.

  �
�Kyle,” he whispered and Kyle leaned in closer to him. “The Rangers are yours now. You know what needs to be done.”

  “I’m not ready,” Kyle said and the panic was rising.

  Liam shook his head, “Yes you are. You were ready a long time ago.”

  Kyle nodded slowly, and the tears were now flowing freely. All around him, the vast majority of the former survivors turned warriors were crying the tears reserved for the closest of family member.

  “I love you, Liam.” Kyle sobbed, placing his head on the man’s bloody chest. The wet fabric mixed with the goatee Kyle had been growing since Belleville.