The Village of Dead Souls: A Zombie Novel

by Michael Wallace

  The Athenian gave the new comer his standard greeting. "Greetings, fair lady. I am Prometheus. What is your name and from where do you hail?"

  The women with shoulder length dark hair replied, "My name is Monica and I hail from Leadville, not too far from here. I," she hesitated for a moment as she glanced at the Rocky Mountains to the west, "worked at the Board of Trade Saloon. My friends called me the Midnight Belle or Midnight for short."

  Nemi stepped into the light and asked, "What made you want to join us?"

  "I feel the gift given to me which I am to pass along is too important. Given the current plague cast upon the humans, they will need all the help they can muster. I also would like to leave this life of a dead soul as quickly as possible."

  "What gift do you offer?"

  "I have the ability to see sickness and disease in people."

  Prometheus welcomed Midnight to the clan and turned to the soul from ancient Rome. "My friend, I wish-" An undead soldier running into the village and yelling, “Humans,” interrupted him!

  Prometheus turned to his old friend. "You said the descendants have not led an attack on you, out here in this village."

  Titus reached out and grabbed a sword from a passing soldier who handed out weapons to the zombies. "For the many years, we have lived in this location. No soldier has come within our view until this moment. Perhaps your visit is what drew them to us." He glanced at his friend with a bit of anger.

  A grenade landed on the ground and bounced along the dirt near the large fire. The explosion sent flames and cinders in all directions. The walking dead nearest the blast had their arms and legs blown off, but they continued their fight with their remaining body parts. As Titus leaned forward, ready to charge the invaders, he said, "We have spent years preparing for this day. Our descendants are in for a surprise. Within our ranks, we have many former generals, who fought in ancient battles. It has become obvious our descendants did not spend their years practicing the ways of the sword. As we do not fall so quickly to their bullets, we hold the advantage in what they think of as primitive warfare."

  Prometheus saw a massive wave of undead appear from the darkness beyond the firelight. They quickly engaged the front lines of the human soldiers who fought with shotguns and swords. It took only seconds in the battle for the entire village to be consumed. Humans swarmed around individual zombies, while multiple undead pounced on the living. Hod ran through the chaos with a large rock, bashing the heads of soldiers. Immense amounts of vaporized and splattered blood filled the air, creating a red mist, which stuck to the skin of the combatants. The Athenian saw a soldier lunge at him with a sword. He made no motion to get out of the way or defend himself. He no longer cared if he left this world or remained, because he had already died twice. As the bloody blade thrust within inches of his midsection, another sword came down and stopped the attack. Prometheus turned and saw Titus enter into a battle with the human. The two combatants fought until they disappeared into the darkness beyond the ring of light.

  Remaining next to what was left of the large fire in the center of the village, the Greek man watched the combat until the remaining living wounded soldiers stumbled away and vanished into the darkness outside the village. Many of the dwellings had caught on fire, and they were flickering light, which showed the carnage left from the fight. Both undead and humans lay motionless on the ground, almost carpeting the dirt between the burning huts.

  Prometheus saw the upper half of Titus crawl into the light. He ran over and knelt down to next his friend. "Brother, it should have been me in this situation. You sacrificed yourself to save me from a life I no longer own."

  Cut in half from just below his chest with his organs trailing through the dirt, Titus rolled onto his back and stared at his friend. "My brother, do not grieve for me, for I will either leave this demon world, or I may return in a new body. Even though, I would miss you again, I hope to never return." He closed his eyes as the remains of his body went limp.

  Hod walked over, grabbed Prometheus by the arm, and tried to pull him up. Nemi stood behind him and said, "My good friend, we must leave this place now. Our new sister, Midnight, has informed me this village is superstitious as to the will of the gods. As we are the newcomers who arrived shortly before the battle, they may blame us for this attack if we stay. Our best option is to return to our village quickly."

  * * *

  Hellion knelt down next to the bushes and waved for the crowd of men behind her to do the same. She kept her eyes on the distant flicker of light in the forest emanating from the zombie village. Dressed in all black like the others in the group, Pink crawled up to her in the darkness and whispered, "This still doesn't seem like a good idea. I have got a real bad feeling about this one. It's not too late to turn around and go back to the city."

  "These Second Lifers are our best chance to prove they deserve equal treatment. The spoon fed media is making it sound like the military attack the other night was their fault. This colony has lived out here for years without a single incident of ever attacking anyone. These are the peaceful beings and we need them to understand that not all of the humans want to fight. If we make this gesture, they will understand, we are here to help them and we can show our close-minded society how we can all live together."

  A young man wearing a black knit hat and dark shirt jogged up to the group from the road. Hellion cautiously stood up to talk him. Scanning the ranks of her group, she asked, "What did you find?"

  Trying to catch his breath, he said, "They don't have any guards, fences or barriers to their town. We can walk right in."

  She stepped out onto the road and motioned for the others to stand. "We're going in, boys. Remember, stick to the plan. Hand out the flowers and try not to show fear. They need to know we are here to help. If you have the opportunity, try giving them a hug."

  Hellion led the group of activists down the road to the large Cottonwood trees, which acted as the front entrance to the zombie village. In the forest, a few small fires lit up small patches of darkness, showing glimpses of the primitive dwellings, the undead had built. Occasional silhouettes staggered on the edge of the light, only to disappear back into the darkness quickly. Even though she told her people to remain calm, she had a hard time controlling the fear which pulsed through her body. From the darkness, she could hear a low moan, which intensified her trembling. Waving her hand forward, she led her people off the road and into the dark forest.

  As she approached the first primitive hut, she could hear staggered footsteps from the blackness around her, crunching the dried leaves and sticks on the ground. The low toned moaning of the undead built up, causing her to clench down on the flowers in her hand. Hellion swallowed hard and with a slight bit of tremor in her voice, she said, "Okay folks, here we go. As the Second Lifers approach, smile and hand them a flower."

  A gray-skinned zombie, wearing a decayed brown suit and tie, swaggered into the flickering firelight. The right half of its leathery scarred face had decomposed all the way to the skull. It raised one arm out toward her and moaned as it slowly approached. Footsteps and groans from more living dead increased from the darkness, telling her she had been surrounded. Hellion held out a flower and said, "We bring you a message of peace and love. Our mission is to end this war and allow our people to live together with tranquility."

  The gray skin closed the distance between them, reached past her gift, and grabbed her hair. Pulling her head toward its face, the zombie opened its mouth wide, ready to bite off her flesh. Dropping the flowers on the ground, she thrust the palm of her hand into the chest of her attacker. Her hand plunged through the brittle chest cavity into the dried lungs of the undead. Retracting her hand from its body, she tried to shake off the dried crumbles of organ tissue. While the zombie still tried to bite her face, she threw an elbow into its head and dislocated its lower jaw. Pulling herself away from the Gray Skin, she heard the screams of her people, mixed with the loud moans from the undead, resonating from
the darkness. Many of the men and women called out for help, but their words quickly turned to cries of agony.

  Hellion turned to run, but another Gray Skin grabbed her arm. As she kicked, screamed and fought to get away, several more of the living dead, materialized from the darkness, and latched onto her shoulders and legs. Frantically convulsing her body to get free, she saw one of her men fall into the ring of light from a nearby fire. He had six zombies on top of him, ripping off pieces of flesh from his still living body. They bit into his shoulders, arms and legs, feasting on his muscles, as his clothes became saturated with blood. His battle tapered off until he no longer had enough life to continue the fight. The undead fed off him like lions on a fresh kill.

  The sight of her friend being eaten alive, made her fight with more intensity, but the large number of zombies had her confined as she screamed for help. Her pleas only merged into the darkness with the cries of her people who were in the same dire circumstance. She could no longer pull her arms and legs free as she felt the rough skin and sharp pieces of bone clench down all over her body. Thrown off balance and pushed to the ground, she felt her clothes being torn off and the boney fingers of her attackers scraping at her skin. Her struggle and cries for help ended when she felt teeth bite into her shoulder and tear out a small chunk of her muscle. She knew there would no longer be any hope of surviving.

  A zombie, engulfed in flames, fell on top of Hellion and her assailants. The undead pushed their flaming member off and the fire spread to several of them. Free from her aggressors, Hellion remained on the ground, as she stared at the stars above her, no longer trying to escape from the horde.

  Pink landed on one knee next to her and pulled her friend's arm. "Come on! We need to get out of here."

  While continuing to stare at the night sky, Hellion said, "I'm dead. They've already contaminated me. Even if I get away, I'm still turning into one of them. You need to get away from me before I turn." She rotated her head to see her friend. "You need to run. It's important you live and tell the others what happened. Tell them we were wrong."

  One of the men from the group grabbed Pink's arm and said, "Come on! We need to run now!"

  Chapter 14

  Four Turkey Vultures hobbled on the marble floor of the former city library and scattered the flock of Ravens already scavenging the area. Dispersed throughout the building, gray-skinned zombies mixed with less decayed undead, as they paced on their never ending walk. Patches of sun streaming through the broken windows highlighted the various colors of decomposition in their skin. Their frayed clothing showed fashion styles going back for several decades. It didn't matter, if the body was a gray skin or a newly deceased, the living dead viewed each other as how they appeared during their life.

  In the meeting room, Prometheus spoke with Nemi, Greg, Constance and Midnight. Pointing to the new arrival, he said, "The fair Midnight can be of the upmost value to our clan and our overall cause."

  Nemi asked, "How can she be so valuable as to warrant the use of assigned body guards? Our appointed leaders do not have such a luxury."

  "Her gift to the descendants can be used to our advantage. She can see the disease in the bodies of the living."

  "I still don't see how that is of any benefit to us." Greg asked as he shifted his sword on his hip.

  Prometheus motioned to Constance, who continued the explanation, "Princess Rachel and I have spoken with many of the newly arrived moderns. They tell us the livings are working on a potion, which will kill us, if we bite into their flesh. If we are to continue feeding to release our gifts, our new sister will be beneficial to our survival, if she can see if into the livings that carry this plague. We will lessen the risk of biting into flesh, which can vanquish our souls from the world without passing our strings of life."

  John from Las Vegas ran into the room wearing a dirty and torn wedding dress. With panic in his voice, he announced, "Captain Bartholomew and Captain Quinlan have come under attack on the perimeter. It's a big strike with helicopters and heavy armor. They need all of us to hold the line."

  As Greg ran out of the room, he said, "Prometheus, you gather all in this building. I will round up those in the streets. We will rendezvous at the perimeter."

  * * *

  Smoke canisters covered the block in a cloud of haze. Helicopters fired rockets into the buildings. The resulting fireballs blew large holes in the structures and rained glass and concrete down on the streets below. Rocket powered grenades, fired from various locations on the ground, sent the flying machines into blazing wrecks. Living soldiers wearing gasmasks fought in hand-to-hand combat with the small army of undead. Several light armored vehicles shot streams of flames from their gun barrels across the waves of gray-skinned zombies, turning them into walking firebombs.

  Prometheus led a large group from the library towards the battle. They quickly joined in killing the humans by thrusting long pikes into their attacker's chests. As each living soldier fell, the undead swarmed them and fed off their bodies. Making his way through the chaos, Prometheus met up with Captain Bartholomew, who fought off a non-stop stream of human military. He wielded his sword with ease, thrusting and slashing his aggressors, making each move a lethal blow. Patricia fought next to him with the same artistic skill in swinging her long blade. The two pirates made the fight look more like a dance than a deadly defense. The humans appeared clumsy and out of their league when it came to fighting master swordsman. While thrusting her blade into a soldier, Patricia said, "It's like these men have never fought with a sword before. They have no ability to counter some of the most basic attacks. They don't even know how to place their feet when thrusting or deflecting."

  Bartholomew replied as he slashed the throat of his attacker, "They have become too dependant on dar fancy flintlocks, which have almost no effect on us."

  The dense cloud of smoke began to thin and Prometheus could see another legion of human soldiers running toward the battle line. He called out, "Captain Bartholomew, this may be a good opportunity to retreat."

  Surrounded by soldiers, the two pirates fought feverishly back to back, fending off the living. The Captain yelled back, "It be too late for that. Me fear is that our ship may be in danger."

  As the second wave of humans entered the battle, the undead became outnumbered two to one. The living used shotguns to blow the heads of the walking dead, sending brown and crimson brain matter over the block. The solders closed their ranks and completely encircled the zombies. Prometheus asked, "Captain, what do we do now?"

  "We be fighting to da bitter end."

  Patricia replied, "You were always too willing to run from a fight." She glanced at Bartholomew. "As long as I have a sword in my hand, this is not over."

  Behind the human solders, a wave of screams and moans, echoed off the buildings. The Greek man glanced up to see the anti-human clan storm through the streets with spears, swords and axes. Attacking from the flanks, they caught the living off guard. Prometheus called out in excitement, "Titus' soldiers have come to our aid. The humans are the ones who are surrounded now."

  A helicopter crashed on the street behind the battle, spreading a wall of flames down the block, which barricaded the soldiers and prevented their escape. Two of the crewman ran from the wreckage covered in flames. The anti-human clan fought, viciously slashing and disemboweling the living, with almost no regard to feeding on their bodies. Bartholomew asked Prometheus, "If Titus is dead, who be leading his people?"

  The Athenian stood on the hood of a wrecked car for a better view of the battle. "I cannot tell who leads them, but they do fight as a well organized army."

  He watched from atop the car as the battle continued. A small relief unit arrived to help the livings, but the large number of undead quickly overtook them. As the human numbers decreased, their demise accelerated. When the last soldier disappeared under a swarm of zombies, Prometheus scanned the battlefield. Both gray skinned and modern undead feasted on torsos and scattered body parts for severa
l blocks. The few dead bodies that remained whole reanimated and stood up with trance-like stares. They staggered around in confusion, as Ravens and Turkey Vultures shared in the feast with the re-ans.

  A tall woman, with long brown hair, a shapely athletic build and a bullet wound in her chest, stepped up Prometheus. She wore a military jacket over her black cocktail dress and carried a long double-sided axe over her shoulder. "Are you the ancient man, Prometheus, I have heard about?"

  "Yes, my new sister. I am Prometheus. What is your name and from where-"

  The lovely dead woman cut him off. "Yeah, from where do I hail? I've heard all about you. My name is Hellion and I used to live right here. I fought for your rights and all it got me was a new life in the modern day Hades."

  "Gratitude on your good fight for our honor. I hope this means, you do not share the thoughts of my old friend Titus?"

  "I not only share his thoughts, I'm keeping them alive. His tribe here," she motioned her head to the gathering undead behind her, "voted me their new leader. You see, I fought to get the humans to accept you and allow you to live. Now that I'm one of you, I realized the humans are the ones who no longer deserve this world."

  "Perhaps, if we sit down and have a debate, I may be able to persuade you in a different direction with your thoughts."

  "Sorry, Gramps, the Titus camp is no longer passive. As of tonight, we will take the fight to the weak humans. Do not misjudge our arrival here as an act of friendship. We came only for the chance to fight the livings. This first assault was payback for the death of Titus. There will be more to come."