Alan Dale - Death Nation's Army 01

by Dna Code Flesh

  Things were certainly getting interesting.

  And he hated every moment of it.

  Brick watched the scrat stumble once and finally fall as his shot rang true, blowing a hole in its head the size of a grapefruit.

  “Fuck me,” Brick exclaimed and wiped sweat from his brow with his forearm. “When is that demon juice going to stop fucking up our world, Bridge?”

  Bridjett didn’t turn toward Brick as she kept her mark on the street to their immediate left.

  Yes, the juice. That wonderful, wonderful, juice.

  “From what we know,” she began. “Never.”

  She saw a scrat come into vision, stumbling off of one of the home’s front lawns.

  “We probably have a better chance if they just run out of food,” Bridjett admitted.

  She jumped when Cisco’s hand clapped down on her shoulder and she trained her weapon head high pointed directly between his eyes smiling down at her.

  “That would mean they would run out of us, dear.”

  Lowering her AK-47, Bridjett jabbed Cisco in the stomach, unsmiling. “Fucker. Do not break warzone protocol.” She turned back to face her earlier area of concentration and saw the scrat – a fresh one it appeared – begin its march toward them. Toward the flesh.

  The blood was fresh and he was already hungry.

  “That protocol includes no slaps on the back,” she shouted over her shoulder back at Cisco. “Next time I’ll shoot your balls off.”

  “But I didn’t slap your shoulder with my balls.”

  “Exactly,” Corinne intoned. “You’d be too busy checking your sackage that you’d never have the time to pull that shit again.”

  Bridjett couldn’t see Corinne but she hoped she knew the comment planted a grin on her face. Cisco didn’t need to see it, but it was a welcome moment.

  The scrat moved closer and her grin was now a grimace. He was about 50 feet away.

  “We feel confident to do indie sweeps?” Brick asked them all.

  Bridjett and the others murmured affirmatives.

  “Good,” Brick said. “Let’s move. Be wary. Be locked. Be ready to shoot some scrat ass and meet back in 15. Bring back any survivors. Signal shots if in distress.”

  “We know the drill,” Cisco groaned, closing the only remaining Hummer door shut.

  The foursome gave each other a quick once-over, nodded in reassurance, and preceded in four different directions. They all knew the NWO could still be here. Those bastards always liked pulling surprises like parking a jeep 100 yards off site and then when the birds left the scene they would walk back after knocking off a few unsuspecting DNA would show up to do the right thing and get killed for it.

  Not this day mother fuckers…

  Bridjett saw the scrat in her eye line as he came even closer. Twenty, 30 feet maybe.

  It was time to make his acquaintance. Without any hesitation, without any doubt, Bridjett Alexi marched in the direction of her potential executioner, weapon at her waist.

  The scrat growled hungrily and reached toward her, stumbling faster, almost in a cannibalistic-zombie-scrat-undead-orgasmic way.

  Ten feet.

  Mother fuckers. Mother fuckers every, single one of you.

  The gun came level, training for the head shot.

  Five feet.

  One day you, son-of-a-bitch, I’ll have my chance, and you’re next.

  Yeah, mother fucker, you’re next.

  An arm’s length.

  But, you’ll do for now.

  Squeezing of the trigger and the scrats newly undead brains went by way of the Heavenly Gates ’ pavement and the monster fell back violently. Gone before hitting the ground.

  Realizing she was breathing harder than normal, Bridjett took a second to compose herself, looking in all directions and seeing no response from any other scrats to her kill. She was alone for a moment.

  If only for a moment.

  Fucking A do I have issues.

  Who wouldn’t in a world turned underground-above and inside-out.

  Yeah, well. You’re still next. I promise. She may never be able to get the man out of her head for as long as she lived and would always love him, yet…

  Bridjett looked down at the dead scrat, eyes open, looking to the heavens, where many might not believe any such thing exists anymore. At least he finally found peace.

  You’re next.

  Gun in hand, she continued on her reconnaissance.

  Major Xander London held zero doubt the two gunshots he heard were not from his men. So either they were some leftover community residents coming out of hiding and wanting to play or even better…

  Fuck yeah, we may have ourselves a little DNA gangbang!

  London had so far survived his simple march through the final nooks and crannies of the Heavenly Gates without much incident. After losing sight of his fellow major, London, found himself walk in on a few scrat picnics as three in particular munched on a very, overweight woman that would feed their little party quite well.

  Should take care of that little fucker inside of them, that’s for sure…

  Better off fed meant nowhere near dead in scrat parlance and London knew this. The whole army understood a fat scrat pack made a DNA’s job that much harder. Sure those little pissants were hoping to finally launch their wet dream rebellion…

  Ooooooooohhhhh, a rebellion, you say?

  But with scrats outnumbering the warm bodied populace by at least two-to-one, chances were if and when the undead army was finally gone for good so would be a majority, if not all, of the DNA.

  Then the world would truly be a New World Order.

  I think I’m getting hard…

  London wanted home. He had a date and he was getting hungry. Everyone else was getting a chance to eat, why couldn’t he, right?

  Especially later when he got a chance to eat some Rothschild pussy…

  He heard a tinkle of a kicked pebble and saw as it rolled itself into vision out from the street running across him, 10 feet ahead, on the other side of the wall, around the adjacent corner.

  Another scrat? Like that matters. As far as they are concerned I am one of them.

  Tightening his grip on his rifle, London eased forward, but before he could get to the corner and see what or who was coming toward him, a tall, dark haired, beautiful young woman –and fucking armed –breezed around it, an AK-47 raised level. Head level.

  Fuck me, a DNA bitch.

  London thinking it was either him or him, made a move.

  Well, God damn.

  Stupid ass tried but failed in getting a shot off and Bridjett put two shots, one in each thigh, dropping the NWO scumbag to the ground, eliciting a yell.

  “Damn you, bitch!” London yelled out while Bridjett could only smile.

  Well It may not be you. She looked down at the soldier writhing in pain. But this turd will do just fine.

  The man’s weapon flew out of his hands when he fell to the ground and was a good ten feet behind him. London, saw the weapon, and hesitated as he considered making a move for it.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Bridjett warned him. “Besides you are dead anyway.”

  London didn’t move, but he did laugh.

  “You gonna kill me, sweet cheeks?” he laughed again. “Because nothing else will.”

  It was Bridjett’s turn to laugh. Okay, chuckle.

  “Yeah, well if I leave you here long enough I know all about your little steroid shots or whatever the hell they are,” she took a step closer, weapon trained at London’s head. “You sit here long enough and bleed a little more I am guessing it will eventually be time for a refill and…” she looked around for a moment. “Oops. No one here to give you another shot. So…here scrat-scrat-scrat.”

  London’s laugh slowed to a dark chuckle. “If you don’t kill me, tit queen, one of my boys will find me and take my ass home,” he saw as Bridgett tensed. “Probably after busting a hole in your head.”

  I knew there would be more
once I tagged this asshole, but did he have to go and remind me?

  A bit more panicked, Bridjett’s finger tensed on the trigger but not much longer before London’s chuckle was back in full throttle laughter mode. She saw as he looked past her shoulder, eyes wide, eyes dancing.

  She heard the scrape of a footfall.

  “Gee, speak of the devil,” London told her and Bridjett very slowly turned around…

  There is no way this is happening.

  The major heard the shot and decided to check it out as a backup more than anything but before he knew it he ran into…

  This?

  “What the fuck are you waiting for, shoot the bitch!?” London commanded.

  The woman looked over at the major and both froze. Neither trained their weapons on each other. They simply froze, both apparently oblivious to the screaming, injured NWO officer between them.

  “Yeah, okay, what is this a dating show!” London yelled at the major again and desperate decided to make a move for his weapon seeing as the blast into the head of the DNA soldier wasn’t happening any time soon.

  This cannot be happening, the major thought to himself.

  The woman’s gun lowered, her eyes wide, she appeared in shock herself.

  “Kill the bitch will you?!” London screamed as he moved within inches of his weapon.

  The major snapped back to attention.

  “What was that Major London?” The solider stammered if just a bit.

  London’s fingers touched the butt of the weapon and looked back over his shoulder at his fellow officer.

  “I said.”

  Fingers pulling on the weapon. Pulling it toward him.

  “Kill…”

  Almost a full grasp of the weapon.

  “The bitch.”

  The woman’s eyes met the major’s as the scrape of London’s weapon on the pavement could be heard. If the solider didn’t do something in seconds London would.

  Their eyes met and held.

  No God damned way…

  “Fucking Bitch!”

  Both the woman and the major raised their weapons in the direction of London, who before pulling his rifle into a shooting position saw this, and stopped.

  “What the fuck?”

  The major took a breath and looked down at London.

  “A bitch?”

  A beat later both weapon’s – his and the woman’s – let out a series of shots all directed into the body and head of Major Xavier London. Seconds later he would be dead and both weapons lowered.

  Their eyes met once more.

  After all…

  He couldn’t finish his thought before the woman turned and ran down and around the nearest corner and out of sight.

  The major wouldn’t follow her…

  They heard the rapid footfalls coming from behind them and Brick, Cisco and Corrine spun in the direction of the sounds guns raised, death-dealing mode at their highest levels.

  Immediately, their tension ceases as they realized it was Bridjett running full speed toward the Hummer. Her face betrayed very little, her head down a bit, her jaw set.

  In other words, typical Bridjett.

  The three automatic weapons lowered, Cisco opened the driver side door and let himself in. Brick moved around to the passenger side while Corrine stayed put and turned her back to Bridjett who finished her run and pulled up to the vehicle. When she was at a full stop, she saw Corrine turn around and step to the left, leaving a small, girl, maybe no more than four or five-years old, standing against the back drivers’ side seat. Her eyes were glazed, face dirty, caked with old, dried blood, and she appeared to be badly under nourished.

  “She won’t talk, we don’t know her name,” Corrine said as she ran her free hand gently over the girl’s light brown hair. Her stunning black eyes staring into an invisible mirror. One that danced with images of death, gore and hopelessness, she would never forget.

  Bridjett, still reeling from her encounter, could say nothing. She’d been where the little girl had been with the only difference being her eyes were older when she saw people she knew get eaten alive.

  “So what’s with the shooting?” Cisco said out his rolled down window as he started the engine. “We heard the reports. It wasn’t us and we saw no NWO”

  Bridjett’s eyes stayed on the little girl’s which still stared a hole in the blood-stained pavement.

  She sees what I have seen. But what I just saw? Was it real?

  “Yeah, it was me,” she told Cisco. “Ran into some fuglies. No worries.”

  “We almost went over in that direction, but we didn’t hear any signal shots so we figured you had it under control,” Cisco told her, his tone a little aggrieved, maybe because she still would not look at him.

  “Yeah, I had it in control,” she confirmed, taking a step closer to the Hummer, standing over the girl.

  “You okay, Bridge?” Corrine asked.

  I can’t believe it…

  “I’m great,” she lied. This poor little girl. Thank God, they didn’t find her.

  What would he have done if he had?

  “Let’s get back, it’s a long drive,” she said more to the little girl. “Let’s get safe.”

  It was then when as Corrine began to guide the little girl around to their side of the van, when the child stopped cold at the last statement. Her dark eyes turned sharply to Bridjett, demanding contact. The older woman obliged and she saw the raw intensity and doubt the little girl held.

  “You don’t think we will be safe do you?”

  Bridjett slowly looked to her left. Dead scrats, bloody bits of freshly dead, stains of life in the pavement.

  To the right…

  More of the same, plus a decapitated head, eyes wide, once belonging to a middle-aged man, now stuck in an eternity of gore.

  Back to the girl, eye contact still demanded, the child remained stoic.

  “I guess I can see why,” Bridjett acquiesced to the girl.

  Corrine smirked and gently held the child by the arm and slowly, the child’s body agreed to follow even if she remained looking back over her shoulder at Bridjett until they made their way around the Hummer.

  “The kid likes you,” Cisco said as he revved up the engine.

  Bridjett opened up her door behind him and got him, saying nothing. As she began to sit, Corrine and the child made their ways in from the opposite side. When they were all settled and the doors closed and locked shut, the girl sat between the two women and once again her eyes look toward Bridjett, but this time she just couldn’t answer the call. At least not yet.

  The Hummer began to move back out of the Heavenly Gates and Bridjett’s gaze lingered back into the once, gated community.

  After all this time…

  “Only one. One fucking survivor,” Brick said and then groaned when he realized his lack of etiquette. “Sorry, honey. I guess I have to watch my mouth around a little girl.”

  The girl’s eyes never left Bridjett.

  “People say fuck all the time,” the child whispered. “I am big girl.”

  All four adults made some gesture of surprise at the girl’s first words. Bridjett turned and faced her. The expression remained grim, the eyes of the girl still seeking and finally finding hers once again.

  Bridjett reached forward and gently push a bang out of the girl’s face without facing any resistance.

  “No…you sure aren’t.”

  “You okay, Bridge?” Corrine asked again. “You just seem, like, well…

  After all this time…

  “…like you’ve seen a ghost, Miss Alexi.”

  Bridjett’s breath caught for just a moment at the comment, slightly stunned with the ironic timing of Corrine’s observation. She continued to gently touch the girl’s hair, those dark eyes taking all of her in. For some reason, despite the shock she endured, this child, found Bridjett in the darkness.

  I had lost him and found her.

  But, had I found him?

  �
��No ghost, Corrine.”

  Bridjett finally broke eye contact with the girl and turned toward her window and watched as she could see the Heavenly Gates slowly disappear into a memory.

  “Just another day at the office.”

  What do I do with this?

  She reached out and felt for one of the little girl’s hands and found one. Bridjett gently made a play to let her know they could hold hands if it made the child feel better.

  Don’t kid yourself…it’s not just for her.

  Before she could think any further about how much more fucked up her life was, she felt her hand as the little girl took a hold and held tight.

  After all this time…

  Bridjett wouldn’t turn to face the rest of the team for the rest of the three-hour trip, because there would be no good to come from them seeing the occasional tears that would fall as the night came and took her reflection in the window away.

  Now what?

  The major found his way back to the chopper they landed about a half-mile down the road from the Heavenly Gates. They always left one off target site and out of detection just in case the DNA came sweeping in, knowing their units were on location. Of course, all these covert tactics were useless since he the DNA had figured it all out, but routine was ritual and ritual was protocol.

  And protocol was God.

  I guess this means God is a cannibal, since protocol includes feeding live humans to undead ones.

  He noticed the two others assigned to sweep details were already at the bird, sitting on the grassy field in which it was parked. It appeared to be an old soccer field. The two seemed quite relaxed which gave the major the impression they had been here awhile. Once they heard the crunch of his steps approaching, they rose from their prone positions and leapt to attention.

  The major, the solider, waved them off.

  “At ease,” he watched them relax. “You left the sweep early?”

  The two men looked at each other with guilt sketched on their faces. “Yeah,” the shorter one of the two admitted. “I mean we did sweep, we just…we just did the shorthand version.”

  “I mean, major, you know how these things turn out,” the taller one added.