by Byrd, Daniel
"Well, it's rude to others, and quite frankly…"
Hamilton still wasn't paying any attention to him. His mind was already in the lab. He was planning on what he would do once he removed Julia's brain, when a scream came from the direction of the lab. Shit. You didn't even have to be there for something to go horribly wrong for once.
He and Hampton rushed to the entrance when the scream came again. Hamilton was stricken with images of Julia during their fight in the blizzard. The pale, monstrous form drifting through the snow in search of him sent a chill down his spine. The guards by the door were missing, and it was ajar. Hamilton was about to enter when the slim guard that was assigned to him fell out into the hallway with the undead body of a woman on top of him. He recognized the subject he had requested from cold storage. Even without its teeth, it was still a force to be reckoned with. The guard threw it off and reached for his pistol, but Hamilton was already on top of the situation. The creature stood up and prepared to attack again, but seized up into a rigid shape and collapsed onto the floor. The lab personnel and the other guard all entered the hallway, and everyone looked to Hamilton. He was waving a small remote in his right hand.
"Maybe I should have mentioned this before I left…all right, next time I'll remember to leave this with one of you. Let's clean up the mess and get her back in there. I've got a lot of work to do. Did you remove the brain of my other subject?" Hamilton actually felt a sting as he said that. He hated calling Julia a subject. One of the lab assistants nodded, still looking at the convulsing body on the floor. “Good, good. I'll be examining that over the next few days. Can I count on you fine ladies and gentlemen to handle this while I'm busy?"
The staff looked from the body to him. They were all terrified that they were in the hands of a madman.
"I'll take that as a 'yes.' Okay then, let's get back to work!"
"Are you insane?" one of the staff asked him as he passed. Hamilton stopped and looked at the young lady as if insulted.
"Why, yes," Hamilton answered in all seriousness, "I've been called that."
Chapter Two - Getting By
The monotone buzz repeated itself five times before a hand slapped the snooze button to shut it off. 0330 was too early for him, but thanks to the draft, this was now Max Dawson's life. The military had resorted to using the Selective Service System in the wake of the downfall of Austin after it was nuked to hell along with a third of the military's might in a matter of seconds, and Max was unlucky enough to be a victim of the worst lottery possible. The solution to the shortage of troops was a joint ROTC program, minus the college experience. Young men were being trained as reserve troops to defend the Havens, with little attention to what would happen in the distant future. He'd gotten over it quickly when he realized he still had something to fight for. He rolled over and brushed the hair out of that something's face before rising to face the day. Katie Thompson was a very energetic and peppy girl when she was awake, but Max thought she was cuter when she slept. Bringing his hand away, he was surprised when she grabbed it back and squeezed. She was still dead asleep, but having him close by was the most comforting thing to her after the past several months. It was the little things like that which made him smile, even in this hell of a world. A lot of people throughout history had seen some tough shit before they were even eighteen, from disease, to watching loved ones die, to having the worst luck possible, but Max figured that none of that compared to combining all of that and adding the fact that the disease would bring your loved ones back, and through misfortune, they want you dead. Then he realized he was thinking too much as always and wasting time.
Moments later he had showered and was donning his new Army recruit uniform. He opened the door to leave the hotel room that had become his home over the past three months, but looked back to the bed before stepping out. Katie was still asleep, and Max didn’t want to disturb her. Her blonde hair was draped over her face in a way that only presented her mouth to the world. What he'd give to see those lips curl into a smile just one more time before he left for the day had him anxious to be able to return to her soon.
He hoped that serving the military would ensure them better housing in the near future. He hated the cramped space they lived in, but not as much as Katie. Everyday after she returned from working in the laundromat, she just sat in here and isolated herself from the outside world. Max was all she had left, and she couldn't even see him freely anymore. He'd done her a favor by seeing her last night, but he knew he wouldn't be able to do that often.
Opting against waking her, he quietly closed the door behind him and walked to the elevator. He only had ten minutes to reach the bus stop where the others would be. Since there were no barracks to house recruits during Basic, a hotel a few blocks down was chosen. It just happened to be close enough that he could sneak out and spend the evening with Katie if he was quiet enough. This marked the second time.
While he waited for the elevator to arrive on his level, he reflected on the same thoughts he'd carried in his head since the day they’d arrived in the Haven. He never thought it would take something like a zombie invasion to meet a girl like Katie Thompson. David was right about her; she had a way of brightening up a life. The more he thought about it though, the more he beat himself up. He didn’t feel that he deserved this life. To him, David should've been here, not him.
Survivor's guilt was taking its toll on him. Katie probably couldn’t tell, but Max was a haunted young man. As he stepped into the elevator and descended to the first floor he found himself trapped in a cloud of thoughts. He still questioned whether or not he was as strong as David and Joseph were. Neither of them feared the idea of death, and fought against unbeatable odds until the end. Max feared that he wouldn’t be able to defend Katie should something happen. David fought death itself to get to her, and his late best friend Joseph Palmer kept a hoard at bay to allow them the chance to escape. That incident on the overpass was still in his nightmares. Every time he only saw Joseph being bitten, and no matter how much he wanted to stop the deadman behind him, no matter how hard he ran, and no matter how hard he cried for Joseph's attention, it was never enough. In another scenario his dreams plagued him with, he kept leaving David behind in Katie's house, and as they drove away from the neighborhood it was obliterated by a nuclear blast before the shockwave hit the truck and he woke up. Max figured that either of them would do a better job than him. They were stronger. David told death to fuck off long enough to accomplish his goal while Joseph accepted it to attain his of protecting others.
He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, when he realized that the elevator was rising back up with a new passenger. The older man across the compartment was eying him with concern.
"S-sorry," Max muttered as he hit the first floor button again. Some things never changed.
***
Max walked outside and stood at the bus stop with the other soldiers while waiting for their ride. The headlights of the camouflaged trucks appeared around the corner of a drug store down the street, and moments later they pulled up in front of the congregation of recruits standing at the entrance to the hotel. Everyone piled into the vehicles before each set out in different directions, all headed towards the outer perimeters of the Haven.
Max sat against the tailgate of the M35 cargo truck and stared up at the night sky. Lights wouldn’t be on for another hour, at least until after sunrise. The sky itself was surprisingly clear. He could make out all of the visible stars, and looked at the two constellations he and Katie had named three months prior; Joseph’s Heart and David's Eye. The patterns traced out by the stars they had chosen resembled a heart and eye respectively at peculiar angles in the vast darkness of space. Max thought the idea to name such constellations was downright silly at first, and considered it as just a way to comfort Katie at the time. After a few nights, he too found himself staring at the stars and talking with his dead friends.
The ride was full of discussion about the latest
world news that included deadmen. Unfortunately, the nightmare hadn't ended with America like Max had hoped.
"They’re in London now, did you hear?!” the cadet next to Max asked.
"How did they get in Britain?!" another midway down the back shouted over the diesel engine. “The Royal Navy has the entire English Channel blocked off! There’s no getting in that country!”
"Maybe they walked there?!” the guy next to Max suggested.
"Walked?!"
"Under the ocean! Think about it! They don’t need to breathe!”
"Do you know what salt water does to a body?!” the cadet in the middle of the group shouted at him.
"It wouldn’t be fast enough! They could just walk under the ships!”
"They’re bloated! It wouldn’t work!”
"If you're dead long enough then you don't have gasses in your body, you idiot!”
“What about fish?! They eat bodies!”
“Oh shit, what if there are zombie fish?!”
Max was reminded of the arguments he and Joseph used to have. Turning his head to face the road behind the truck, he grinned as the others continued to try and make logical rebuttals to each other. He actually found it hard to keep himself out of it. After deciding against getting involved, he gazed around at the dark city. Nothing seemed to put his mind at ease this morning. The darkness gave everything an ominous appearance, like something was hiding amongst the shadows at every glance. While he pondered how simple it would be for someone to slip deadmen through the streets of the Haven, the truck stopped and he was nudged to get out. Max hopped down to the street below and slung his M4 around to cradle in front of him. His rifle was fitted with an optic scope to help pick out any deadmen that might be lurking just a short distance away from their defensive line. Stomach turning upside down inside of him, he approached the dividing line between the Philadelphia Haven and the hell outside. The other side of the river was a haunting scene. Silent, gray buildings stood in the twilight of the barren, eerie land that seemed a world away, yet right next door to the safety of the Haven. There were no deadmen in sight from what he could see, but there wasn't much daylight to go by yet. Spotlights were only utilized when a group of zombies were clearly identified. He figured that most had been picked off by the scouting troops that were sent around the perimeter to hunt down and exterminate any of the shambling corpses that still posed a threat to their safety. That wasn't even the hard part. Max had finally gotten settled with the idea of killing the undead, but the other half of their assignment is what stung him to his core. Due to the risk of allowing anyone outside who may pose a threat like with the Austin Haven, anyone outside of the border was to be shot on sight. That wasn't common knowledge of the citizens inside, but for someone like Max it was something to fester in the back of his head.
As part of Basic Training, all recruits were to serve a day on watch on the border between the Haven and the outside world. It was thought that if the recruits would get that experience, they'd get a better understanding of what they were protecting. Max wasn't very keen on the idea, but it couldn't be helped. He wondered what Private First Class Zachary Jackson would have said had he seen Max dressed for combat.
Max knew of the incident that occurred when Jackson went to speak with Colonel Browning. The rumor was that Jackson stole a gun off of Lieutenant Benjamin Garrison and used it to murder the Colonel during their meeting in cold blood. It was kind of hard for news like that not to spread in a time where mankind was supposed to be working together. Max knew better, as he'd heard parts of Jackson's story of what had happened at the border of Georgia and South Carolina. He really couldn’t blame Jackson for what transpired. After all, the guy went through a lot after being left for dead with the rest of his team. Max never got all of the details from him as to what happened, but he knew that Browning was the one who made the call to abandon them in deadmans' land. Max knew there were better ways to handle the entire situation between Jackson and his abandonment due to the Colonel’s actions, but people react differently in the heat of the moment. Jackson was a soldier. He was trained to go off of instinct. His instinct just happened to coincide with his hotheadedness.
As the sun beamed over the horizon, Max stood watch at his post and noted how clear the sky was. There wasn't a cloud in sight this cold winter's morning, and given the fact that a nuclear weapon had been detonated just southeast of the Haven, he was surprised. He wasn't an expert, but video games had led him to assume that the sky was supposed to be gray following the detonations of multiple nuclear weapons in the same time frame. The fallout was still hard to determine, but Max figured there was something hazardous in the air, even if officials wouldn't admit it.
His mind began to wander back to somber thoughts. It was moments like this that he wished he had any of the three between David, Joseph, or Jackson to talk to. There was no point in worrying Katie about such things. She already felt that he was struggling with the loss of his friends. There was no getting past her with a façade of content.
He was staring off into the distance when someone grabbed his arm. He spun around to find himself standing before a tall man in uniform. Max noted the lieutenant’s insignia on his arm and snapped to a salute. He was getting good at this.
“Sir!”
“At ease. Max Dawson?”
Max nodded. “Yes sir, that’s me.”
“We’ve got an assignment for you.”
***
Private First Class Zachary Jackson was still groggy, having just woken up to be dragged out of his cell early in the morning. His head was pounding, something that he attributed to that rifle butt to the face. Though he had willingly left his cell there was no mercy towards him from any of the soldiers. He sat with his hands in cuffs behind him in a folding metal chair as the light above him buzzed annoyingly. He wanted to know why he was brought here again. He’d been interrogated enough. If he was going to be killed, he wished that it would be done soon. He was tired of living in this hell anyway. Every time he closed his eyes he could see the undead before him at the Georgia-South Carolina border. The images were practically burned into his memory to the point that they seemingly invaded reality at times, especially in the latest hours of the night.
While he sat in deliberation, the door to the room opened across from him, and Lieutenant Benjamin Garrison entered. Garrison was the man who had greeted them when they came to the Haven three months ago, and trouble with Jackson aside, he was a damn serious soldier. Jackson met his glare with a smile. After all, it was Garrison’s mistake that led to Jackson’s possession of a firearm in the presence of Colonel Browning. Garrison should've known better. After being abandoned at that border quarantine and guaranteed no help in escape, Jackson developed a personal vendetta against the man who had made the call to forsake the fire team. He vowed revenge, and thought he had attained it by emptying the magazine of Garrison's pistol into Browning's chest. Instead, he was just as empty as before.
Garrison grunted in disgust and stuck his hand out of the door. Jackson figured he was motioning for someone to enter. He wondered who would get their turn at asking questions next. He wasn’t prepared to see Max Dawson enter, nor would he ever have expected to see him in an Army Combat Uniform. Garrison shot Jackson one last dirty look before he left the room, closing the door behind him. Jackson knew he’d be listening behind the mirror on the wall to his right. The bigger affair was standing across the table from him.
“Max?”
Max nodded. “It’s been a while, Jackson.”
Jackson wasn’t sure that he hadn’t been hit a little too hard in the head with that rifle. “Why are you wearing that uniform?”
“I was enlisted not long after arriving here. Turns out any able-bodied person that can hold a gun is qualified to fight against those things.”
“That must suck for you. I know you hate fighting.”
Max shrugged. “I’ll fight if it’s for a cause.”
“Any man can say that, th
ough I did instill that mindset into you. Still, I question if you’re really into it yet. Glad to see you're confident, I guess. How’s Katie?”
“She’s good. She’s adjusted to this about as well as I have, but she hates our living arrangement. She’s safe though.”
Jackson nodded with a grin. “I’m glad to hear it, but I’ve got to ask," the grin faded before he spoke again, "why the hell are you here?”
Max looked to the mirror on the wall, knowing that whoever was on the other side was waiting in anticipation. “We need your cooperation.”
“My cooperation?" Jackson asked, glancing over at the mirror as well. "What are they planning?”
“I haven’t been filled in on all the details, but it looks like they’re organizing a large task force to send to Europe. Apparently they’ve got leads on the organization behind all of this over there.”
“Okay, why am I needed?” Jackson asked, trying not to be impatient with the kid. Max was being used, whether he knew it or not. Poor kid wasn’t a soldier. He was just like the rest of the civilians; innocent bystanders who were dragged into this horror.
“Well, the way they see it, you’re wrapped around their fingers because of what you did to Colonel Browning. Since they haven't killed you, you owe them. Also, you have more experience fighting deadmen than most people on this base. The way I see it, you do the higher-ups a favor, they might do you one.”
Jackson grunted. “Sounds to me like they want to get rid of me without having to waste ammo. Send me to the frontline just to get killed by a walking corpse. Is that it?!” he yelled at the reflective glass.
“Jackson, listen. The reason they wanted me to ask is because they think I can talk some sense into you."
That drew a sneer. "So I’m supposed to behave and be a good boy for them just because I’ve got a friend around? I don’t see-"
“Hey, let me put it to you this way,” Max said in a serious tone of voice, “would you rather be in a cell for the rest of your life, or trying to end this?”
