Lightening lit up the room, for the briefest time the stained glass sent a spectrum of colour into the room. To Jayne’s horror, it was not Sam that had stood at the door. The hunched corpse of a man lurched forwards knocking Jayne backwards, they both fell onto the grimy floor. She let off a shot, but missed her target. As she hit the floor she lost grip of the gun, from the force of the impact and it fell out of her reach. The decaying corpse that pinned her to the floor was strong and held her tight as she struggled to reach for the gun. Her fingers touched the butt of the gun but it was just a fraction out of reach making it impossible for her to get her hands around it. With all her might, knowing it was now or never, she reached out. Managing to grip the gun, she turned it on her assailant and fired. Click, click, click, the gun was out of ammunition. The unexpected shot of gun rang out in the room as blood splattered over her. Sam stood in the doorway, his gun smoking.
“Let’s get out of here,” shouted Sam reloading his gun, “it’s all over Jayne!”
Jayne looked back out of the window; through the rain she could make out the silhouette of the tanks at the fence.
“The army is here, they’re going to blow up the building,” added Sam.
As they ran down the corridor, breathlessly Sam told her about test seventy-seven.
“It works!” Jayne yelled excitedly.
As they were reaching the end of the corridor an explosion burst through the school sending Sam and Jayne to the floor.
“Where’s my ten minutes, you bastards!” Sam yelled.
The corridor ablaze with flames was blocked by falling rubble. Coming up the other end of the corridor walked the dead. Jayne pulled Sam up from the floor.
“Where the hell did they come from?” Sam spat.
Turning they ran up a small set of stairs. Coming out onto one of the upstairs corridors, fire faced them in one direction the dead in the other. The corpses were slowly but steadily moving up the stairs behind them. Bracing themselves for the onslaught they fired their weapons taking off the fingers and exploding some of the heads of their potential attackers but the dead continued to move forward as Jayne and Sam walked backwards towards the fire.
“Save a bullet for me Sam.” Jayne screamed.
Masses of the dead ambled toward them; lifeless eyes stared at the two human beings as they backed towards the burning flames. The faces of the dead were terrifying; Sam felt sick recognising some of them as neighbours and friends from right here in his hometown. Sam and Jayne continued to fire their guns aiming for the faces as they moved towards them. On some bizarre level it was like a funfair’s shooting range but without the fun or the cheap prize. They were nearly out of ammunition as they backed closer and closer to the flames that licked the walls behind them, the smoke rising quickly.
A hissing noise from behind them caught their attention. Half-turning they saw a tall woman fighting back the flames with blasts of foam from a fire extinguisher. Relieved, Sam recognised Karen moving towards them from the other side of the fire.
“Am I glad to see you,” exclaimed Sam.
Karen continued to blast the extinguisher at the flames dowsing the fire down to small flickering flames. As the smoke started to subside Jayne could see the tall woman standing in the smouldering ash, a red extinguisher in one hand, the other on her hip.
“You must be Jayne. I’m Karen, let’s get out of here.” Karen growled.
With all her might, she took the extinguisher into both hands and threw it at the advancing corpses. Hitting a number of her targets heads cracked and teeth sprinkled to the floor. Those that continued to walk stumbled over the bodies as they fell in their path. Several more explosions shook the building. The schools structure had been blasted beyond repair, demolished rooms and bodies merged into one.
Gunfire rattled outside as the soldiers exterminated those dead that had unwittingly managed to escape from the school.
Sam, Jayne and Karen ran frantically down the corridor towards the stairs. Sam looked back. To his morbid amusement, some of the dead had caught fire but despite the flames coming off them they continued to walk or crawl until they could no longer move; finally dead.
They were covered in black mortar dust as debris fell all around them as another explosion ripped through the building sending glass flying out of their frames, more walls crumbled away. Everything seemed to shake as if the very foundations had given way. Karen fell through a gaping hole in the floor. Her top catching on a floorboard preventing her from falling to the raging fire that burned below her.
Jayne slammed onto the floor, landing on broken glass which cut open her hands and knees. She lay motionless in her own blood, the broken glass crunching under her weight. She looked over to see Sam uneasily get to his feet. He stood larger than life, debris and fire all around him. Behind him she could see the blue decaying corpses then everything turned black as she drifted into unconsciousness.
Karen hung there, frantically trying to grab hold of the floorboard that had snagged her clothes, the flames burning higher and higher beneath her. Sam dived along the wooden floor reaching down and gripping Karen’s hands just as her top ripped. With all his might he began to pull her up, getting Karen to safety.
Some of the dead shuffled forward closing in once more on the living. Sam pointed the gun at one of the dead men’s heads.
“Eat this,” Sam spat, pulling the trigger he realised the gun was empty. Both the corpse and Sam paused briefly staring into the others eyes. Sam yelled as the dead man lurched forward, wrestling him to the floor while Karen grabbed the second zombie. Without hesitation Karen threw it down the hole into the fire below, she watched as its loose flesh was eaten by the flames.
A third zombie made its way over to where Jayne still lay, unconscious on the floor. A fourth appeared in the doorway and grabbed Sam from behind. Not knowing who to help first, Karen moved towards Sam.
“I got it covered. Help Jayne,” he bawled, throwing his attacker to the floor, his foot connecting with its head, sending it spinning through the air.
Karen picked up a thick piece of timber and smashed it into the skull of dead who hovered about Jayne. Whilst it lay on the floor, Karen could see that it was still moving. Unsure whether the movement was deliberate or involuntary she swung the piece of wood hitting the zombie repeatedly until it moved no more.
More and more zombies descended into the room as they made to escape from the flames that now raged through the building. Another devastating explosion filled the once silent corridors. Karen could see Sam fighting off the dead, throwing them up against the walls and into other corpses. For the moment, he was free of them and Karen turned her attention back to rousing Jayne. Sam turned, unharmed and walked towards Karen. Winking at her, as he bent forward to help with Jayne, Karen smiled in relief, the smile turning to a gasp as from the corner of her eye she noticed the ceiling creaking and groaning before it gave way, tearing the corridor into two with dust swirling before their eyes. The falling rubble had separated Sam from the two women. Caked with the falling dust Karen pulled away some of the rubble. She found a small opening and put her hand through the gap grasping Sam’s hand firmly. They both knew it would take too long for them to move enough rubble for him to get through to their side.
“I sorry I won’t be able to help you find your brother, maybe next time. Go... Get out of here,” Sam coughed weakly. Karen could see more zombies coming up the other stairs towards Jayne.
“Get Jayne out of here. I’ll be ok, promise.” His lungs began to fill with smoke, coughing, he let go of her hand.
Karen lay there for a moment, watching Sam through the gap. Struggling to his feet, weak and tired, he walked away, and like an apparition, he disappeared into the clouds of dust and smoke. She could hear him as he fought off the approaching dead, wholeheartedly fighting for his life. His voice was lost to the sounds of the fire crackling around the collapsing building.
“Sam?” Karen whispered gripping the broken floorboards in des
pair. Snapping out of her grief, as quickly as it had come, she effortlessly picked up Jayne putting her across her shoulders. Taking Jayne’s gun, she shot a quick glance back at the gap she had made in the rubble before turning and making her way to the stairs. As two more zombies approached she shot them both between the eyes, sending one crashing to the floor and the other tumbling backwards down the stairs.
She walked down the stairs with Jayne still over her shoulder. Explosions continued to ring out all around her, the noise impairing her hearing. She looked up and couldn’t contain the laugh that welled up inside here as before her hung a, lop-sided exit sign. Kicking open the fire-exit Karen walked out into the rain. She walked purposely across the yard, towards the soldier’s lights.
Due to her temporary deafness as a result of the blasts, Karen could not hear the explosions that continued behind her, but she could feel their force and heat as the flames lit up the sky.
As she neared the fence, Karen collapsed to the ground, still holding onto Jayne. Looking back she could see what was left of the burning building. A figure walked out from the ruins. Her heart missed a beat, as for a moment she hoped it was Sam. Squinting through the rain and smoke that moved all around her she knew it was one of the dead. Despite it being a walking corpse Karen was relieved it wasn’t a cold, dead, heartless version of Sam. As the soldiers took aim the corpse was shot at all angles, torn apart by the bullets.
Karen stood up leaving Jayne lying on the yard. Turning, she slowly climbed the fence landing softly on the ground the other side. She walked towards Hardy and the crowd of rejoicing soldiers. Frank stood with them. Karen marched towards him, and with the swing of her right fist she punched him on the jaw sending him sprawling on the damp ground.
“What part of ‘ten’ didn’t you understand?” she snarled.
Later Karen sat with Jayne in her arms as the dawn began to break; she looked up at the new sun appearing on the horizon with hope for the future. Jayne stirred and woke. Slowly both of the women got to their feet, Karen stood with one hand shading her eyes as she watched the sunrise. Jayne stood next to her.
“Sam?” Jayne asked.
Karen’s eyes filled and a fat tear rolled down her cheek, she slowly shook her head.
Jayne bowed her head mournfully, guiltily looking at her mutilated hands. She knew she was lucky to be alive and with her hands, once they were healed she would finish the work she had started, experiment seventy-seven. Jayne was determined that Sam’s death would not be in vain.
“Where are you going to go? What are you going to do now?” Jayne asked.
Karen’s clothes were torn, burnt and dusty. There was a long silence then Karen’s voice trembled “I’m going to do what Sam would do.” She briefly though of her brother, firstly, determinably turning to face Jayne. “I’m going make sure that you reach the base.”
The sun glistened down on the two weary women as they walked unsteadily towards the waiting soldiers.
Pushing Hardy’s helping hand from his nose Frank sat in his jeep avoiding eye contact with the approaching women.
Exhausted, they climbed onto the back of an awaiting tank. The heavy tank steadily headed towards the orange skyline and like a mirage, they disappeared into the rising sun…
Extract 4.0
J. Reed. 20092702/20022802
In contrast to strategic warheads, as mentioned in VEP 11/01 which can level cities and smaller short-range tactical nuclear arms designed to wipe out battlefield forces. It is likely to maximize a barrage of infinitesimal neutrons that could zip through tanks, buildings and other structures. It should destroy the central nervous system of the ‘enemy’ (The Dead).
Provided that the weapon was not used in a thunderstorm, no fallout effects would occur from the use of bomb according to J. M. James manual and my notes: VEP 11/03, as the combination of 200m burst altitude and low yield prevents fallout in addition to significant thermal and blast effects. The reduction in damage within the target area is a major advantage of such a weapon to deter mass destruction.
In several meetings with Military personnel it has been established that 77 can be deployed via tanks or anti-tank missile launchers. I would advise not waste more precious time trying to build a weak coalition of those nations that will support 77 in name only.
It is the only weapon in history that actually may benefit humanity.
This is my final report.
Jayne Reed.
PART FIVE: THE COMPOUND
Many months had passed since the school’s destruction and Samuel’s demise. For many a distant memory lost on the rotting autumn leaves. After Jayne’s work was completed she had been escorted to a safer place, Marshal charged with her protection much to his protest and to his annoyance replaced by Thomas Hardy.
The stench of death and decay filled the seasoned air. The dead in various stages of decomposition, slowed by the harsh winter’s air, now pushed against the tall metal barrier. The tops of the pointed vertical poles were deadly to anyone attempting to trespass. Fortunately, the dead didn’t appear to have the co-ordination to attempt climbing.
The compound consisted of several metal cabins and the crematorium, close by stood a grey, five-storey purpose built building. The cargo planes and truckloads of dead bodies had ceased. The body loading team now destroyed the surplus of dead that surrounded them, those that came from the dark attracted by the activity of the living.
Its occupants had not heard from any official administrator in quite some time, they continued their work in rounding up and destroying the abundance of bodies.
Quaid Stockwell stood watching them from the safety of the perimeter fence. Hair scraped back in a ponytail, a dark T-shirt, trousers and boots. With one hand on his stubble-covered chin, he pointed his fingers making a gun shape, pretending to shoot at the hordes of the dead like a child playing war. As a figure approached, he squinted in the dimming light just able to make out her dark silhouette.
“Come inside Quaid, you’re going to freeze,” said Jayne. The trauma of recent events had made her gaunt, her white jumper and black overcoat drowned her now petite figure.
“If they are out there fighting for us, there must be hope. They said that the living can reclaim the world,” Quaid turned to Jayne and looked into her sad eyes, partly obscured by her hair.
“I heard it too Quaid, but that was ages ago. They also said that they would come and get us. Karen and Hardy’s men were meant to come back and get me. Save us. We’ve heard nothing since and it’s been a long and harsh winter. They’re probably dead. We just have to get on with our lives the way they are. Come inside.” She tugged at his arm.
They made their way from the roof and walked down to the canteen; Jayne stopping to check the canteen-cleaning rota, while Quaid made himself a black coffee. They strolled through a stark beige painted corridor and made their way to the first floor, and sat in an open plan office. Papers and discarded plastic cups moved around the neglected office space from the icy draft that came in through a broken window, covered with a square of cardboard held poorly by some failing gaffer tape. Quaid lazily moved the mouse on his desk. The computer screen came to life and a promotion video for the compound began to play. The place was so alive, thought Quaid.
A smooth male voice spoke as construction work took place. “The building and refurbished slaughterhouse, now crematorium, was set up by the government and funded by taxpayer’s money. This will be a fast and effective way to dispose of the growing number of bodies. We are proactive...” Quaid clicked the stop icon on the seventeen-inch screen, spinning around on his chair.
Jayne reached under the desk and held in the PC’s off button. “How many times are you going to watch that? Forget it, its rhetoric.” Jayne rolled her eyes as the screen in front of her flicked off.
Outside there was a shout. Turning to face the window they both saw a body falling past the window. Getting up to see what was going on they looked down to see a body spread out on the concrete
below.
“Who is it?” Jayne softly asked.
Quickly they made their way down the stairs and out onto the snowy concourse. The chef, Smith and now compound security head Frank Marshal stood over the body.
“I don’t think you’d be able to help this one girl,” said Frank. “Holy, holy, second suicide in a month, Quaid fetch the axe. Jayne stand back, she’ll be getting back up any minute.”
“Who is it? Jackie?” asked Jayne.
“Nope, Sarah,” replied Smith.
“How can you tell?” Jayne asked wiping her hands on her light blue jeans.
“The tattoo on her back Reed,” said Smith pointing at the girls shoulder.
The cracking noise of her shattered bones reforming broke the conversation, as the corpse began to move. She lifted her head clawing the ground propelling herself forward her broken legs dragging behind her.
“Man, I once saw a midget clown in the same state,” Smith blurted out.
Jayne nudged past him, “Have you no feelings or remorse? Yesterday you were eating dinner with her. Now she’s a piece of shit?” she snarled, crunching ice under her boots as she walked back towards the building. She passed Quaid who stopped with an axe in his hand.
Quaid offered Frank the heavy blade. “You’re not going to do it?” Frank asked.
Quaid shook his head, “she’s not my department pal, you’re Military security and she is a security risk,” roughly he shoved the axe into Frank’s aged hands.
Just like his sister, thought Frank.
Large snowflakes began to fall on the clothing of the corpse as she continued to drag herself forwards. The blade slammed down severing Sarah’s spinal cord in one swift move. Her severed head spun on the freezing floor. Frank with one the axe still in one hand pulled out his radio.
Dead Pulse Page 8
