by Byrd, Daniel
"No more."
She pointed the gun at the girl reaching out for Joel. She wasn't perfectly centered in the sights, but Katherine's hands weren't shaking as much, so that compensated.
"No more!" Katherine cried as she squeezed the trigger. It wasn't a fatal shot, but the bullet struck the girl in the arm and sent her stumbling backwards. Katherine squealed as the slid cut into her finger, but she repositioned her grip and fired again, hitting the girl in the chest. She only snarled in response as her soulless eyes set on the person shooting her. Katherine's hands were still trembling, but she squeezed the trigger once more, closing her eyes in the process. When she dared to open one, she was surprised to see how effective it was. The body of the girl was now on the ground, blood draining out from the back of her head and ruining a patch of beautiful flowers. Katherine was breathing heavily. She had just killed someone...or something.
She felt a rush of feelings sweep over her all at once, ranging from crushing guilt to paralyzing fear. All of these feelings caused her to drop her arms to her side and stare at the body in anguish. She felt her eyes tearing up again, but blinked it all away and quickly readied the gun again. There was time for counseling later; this was the definition of do or die. She had found her resolve. Joel was her responsibility now. She could do it. She could get them out of this city alive.
Katherine shut down another infected man's advance by putting a bullet through his leg. It wasn't what she was aiming for, but it worked. She figured that she must've hit something important for it to have to resort to dragging itself towards her. Letting determination take control away from fear, she managed to get the head lined up in the iron sights and finished the job. Stopping to gag, she coughed up a bit of her breakfast from earlier that day before straightening up and collecting herself. Ceasing wasn't one of the choices she had. There were still about a dozen undead figures in the immediate area. She had to act fast. Katherine kept taking deep breathes as she lined up her shots one by one. With every squeeze of the trigger she hit some parts of different individuals, downing three of them. Three were running lopsidedly towards her and Joel, and when she heard the click produced by the final pull, her spirit dwindled. Tilting her wrists, she saw the locked-back slide and gasped. She didn't have time to check for another magazine on Joel's person, and she didn't even know how to get the current one out! She dropped the gun and, turning back to him, she noticed something on his leg that didn’t take a lot of brains to figure out. The blade came out of the sheath easily enough, but a knife meant getting a lot closer to her assailants than she wanted to. There wasn't any time to give that thought any leeway to hinder her. The closest zombie growled, sounding almost more human than she wanted to hear. Taking a deep breath, she screamed as she threw all of her weight into a lunge and sent the blade into the creature's nose and through its brain. The resistance she felt was sickening. The weight of the zombie brought her down with it, but the body was on top of her. She was trapped. The man was bulky and fit underneath his suit, and remembering that muscle weighed more than fat wasn't helping her. The body wouldn't budge as the other two stood over her. Maneuvering her right arm out was possible, so she grabbed the knife from the front of the man's face and twisted it free. When the next dropped to its knees and leaned over her she thrust the tip of the blade through its temple and was sprayed with blood. She held on tight as the body slumped over on its side. She couldn't get the blade. Panic took over.
"JOEL!!!"
The third zombie crawled over the one still on top of Katherine and moaned as it grabbed her outstretched arm. Katherine screamed and tried to pull it away, but the creature wouldn't surrender. Katherine struggled, but there was no escaping. She looked to her right and saw the empty gun resting on the ground.
"Hung…ry…"
Katherine was shocked. The thing on top of her had just talked. Had she imagined it?
"Please…so…hungry!"
She didn't imagine it. The man was talking. The monster's mouth widened, and Katherine did the only thing she could think to do. She whipped her hand towards the gun and snatched it up before shoving it into the creature's mouth. It gargled as she held the weapon between its teeth and her fingers, scouring her mind for a means of escape. While the monster snapped its teeth repeatedly on the gun in its mouth, Katherine managed to slip her left arm out from under the bodies and grab the thing's head. Risking a dangerous tactic to escape, she brought the gun back and attempted to bash the zombie over the head with the grip. It had no virtually no effect, but it was grunting from the impacts. The creature kept struggling to get past her hand, and it was winning. Again and again she hit it with the gun, but she was out of strength. The man finally pushed past her hand with a violent snarl, and it lunged forward as her eyes widened in fear. The teeth were so white. This man had taken dental care seriously, and because of this he had made himself a perfect weapon to spread the deathless plague. Katherine screamed as he bit into her dress.
Her luck was being pushed to its limits. The man tore the fabric and let it hang from his teeth for a brief moment as he realized he wasn't satisfied with the contents of his mouth. Katherine shoved his head back and thought fast. She had one final resort. Reaching into the pocket of her jacket with her right hand, she retrieved the canister of pepper spray.
"Piss off!"
She hosed the creature's face with the mist, and was more surprised than she should have been at the reaction. The man backed off of the stack of bodies and snarled in agony as it shook back and forth in whipping motions. Katherine took the chance to push against the bodies on top of her, and with great effort, slid her torso out, and eventually her legs. She crawled backwards a bit before standing. The zombie was still writhing from the chemicals stinging its nerve endings. It was odd to Katherine. A lot of the zombies hadn't felt the bullets wounding them, but this one was still sensitive to pain. She wondered if he simply hadn't turned completely yet? A few of the undead that had attacked her in her car seemed to be affected by it, but she wasn't sure at the time. Now she was thinking. She wanted to try something, but she didn't have to be a soldier like Joel to know that testing an idea in the heat of battle was likely to get her killed, or worse in this case.
She walked forward and knelt down to retrieve the combat knife from the skull of her former aggressor while her enemy began to gather itself in front of her. Katherine was hesitant, but she had to know. Slowly, she approached the zombie as it stumbled in her direction. It's sight was restricted by the chemical compound, allowing Katherine an easy shot. After a quick prayer, she jabbed the knife through the creature's throat and ripped it back out. The zombie hacked in agony as blood rained from the wound. It was disgusting, but not enough. She jabbed it in the chest in repeated fashion, each time being rewarded with a painful grunt from the creature. It fell to its knees with a hand outstretched to her, in pain, yet starving for her. Katherine felt sorry for the man, even if he had tried to kill her. It wasn't his fault. He didn't want to murder against his will. The undead were controlled by an evil force guiding them to kill. Katherine had just learned that they still could hold on to human traits, and that was something that only made what she had just done hurt so much more.
***
The back doors of the van slammed shut, and the seven people inside pounded on the walls as gas filled the compartment. Orlok examined his revolver with feigned interest as the noises stopped, and then climbed into the passenger’s seat, pulling his cellphone out of his coat pocket and placing the call just as ordered. It felt good to speak in his natural Russian accent again versus so many of the fake ones he’d perfected over the years.
"This is Orlok. I managed to amass seven new subjects. The London operation was a success. The bombs will be dropping very soon...Yes, it is ironic. All of that time Churchill spent keeping Hitler's bombers away from this place, and now it is about to be incinerated by its own Air Force…Of course, but as excited as I am, I will leave the subjects in your hands. I have a meeting
with our new recruit in a few days, and I would hate to leave him waiting...Yes...Of course...Is that right? Okay then, with that beast under our control, I do not see any point in worrying about anyone not taking us seriously...No, I am not challenging your judgment...I understand…I will have the driver deliver the van in due time. I have to meet our friend who promised me escorts…Yes, it is becoming much more difficult. I believe this will be my final outing. I will have to take the offer to have a personal assistant…He has been a valuable asset, but are you sure he will not become a liability?...Yes, I trust you will handle it…Okay, I have work to do. When next we meet, I will have your 'present' for you. Oh, and do have my room ready for my return. I am running low on my personal supplies, and cannot stay out in the open without proper care…Thank you…Consider these subjects payment for your generosity. I may be a flawed image of your grand design, but I will be a proper harbinger nonetheless. The World to Come will come to be, and with that I will have served my purpose…Of course, I will see you then.”
Orlok ended the call and broke the cellphone in half, tossing the useless pieces into the foot of the passenger's seat. The engine started, and the van drove away from Derby Gate, leaving the alley and making its leave from the ruined city.
***
There was a low rumble that shook the ground beneath Katherine's feet, and another that overlapped the first. Katherine looked across the river and saw a great fire rising above the distant buildings. The military was bombing the city, and she had no way out! She looked to the car, but knew that was pointless. It wouldn't get them away from the bombs. Joel was still on his knees. Katherine grabbed his arm and tugged, but he refused to stand.
"Joel! Get up!"
He was too heavy for her to lift up, but she couldn't leave him. It was time to repay him. Tossing his right arm over her shoulder, she stood him up carefully while struggling against his weight. Another explosion could be heard, but she wasn't focused on it. She had begun to take small steps forward as the bombs fell closer and closer. One struck the Westminster building across the river, and sent the top half of Big Ben crashing into the bridge. She could hear a whistling overhead as she reached the edge of the river, and knew she was doing something incredibly stupid. Without another thought, she tossed Joel's shell shocked body into the river and dove in after him as a bomb hit the ground just yards behind her.
She struggled to catch up to Joel, but he was drifting too far from her. Before she could reach him, his head caught a large piece of the bridge that had collapsed into the river and was carried away. Katherine kicked her legs in panic as she saw his body flail about in the current. When her hand grabbed his vest, something hit her head. She blacked out as the current carried her and Joel away.
Chapter Seven - Sanity Saving Throw
Hamilton had kept himself busy in the lab, preparing for the coming days. His examination of Julia's brain tissue revealed a lot regarding the mystery behind her ability, and he was finishing up the report when Major Hampton entered. The Major looked around at the dimly lit, cluttered lab. Hamilton had kicked out the assistants, claiming that they only hindered his work. His solo work environment was one of strewn papers and miniature tarp rooms beyond the tables of computers and medical equipment. If it weren't for the fact that Hamilton was analyzing the bodies of the dead for keys to slow the spread of the virus, Hampton would be worried at the number of corpses that may have been restrained or in pieces throughout the lab. The one thing that struck him above all the rest as odd was the music selection in Hamilton's work environment. Heavy metal was blasting from a set of speakers connected to a nearby computer. Dr. Hamilton was nodding his head up and down to the beat of the double bass drums as he busied himself on a different computer setup.
Hampton approached him from the side and observed the data on the screen. None of the charts or numbers in the different windows made any sense to him, but he assumed that Hamilton knew what he was doing. Beside the desktop monitor were two jars of liquid with small appendages suspended in them. Hampton leaned in closer and studied the oddities, realizing that they were the small finger and toe he had lost to frostbite after the Emmerich Research Facility incident. Hampton remembered the doctor requisitioning those after they were removed. Something about researching the dead cells of the digits against the undead samples?
The doctor still hadn't taken notice of the Major, even when he reached in front of Hampton to grab his coffee mug. Hampton leaned in close to the doctor's ear.
"I saw them live once!" he shouted over the music. Hamilton jumped and knocked the keyboard off of the table while spilling coffee onto some files. He spun around with a look of surprise as his eyes met Hampton's person. His expression then immediately transformed from shock to irk. He walked over to the desktop blasting tunes throughout the lab and stopped the playback.
"Must you always come in when I'm busy?"
"Were you busy, or enjoying yourself? I never took you for a fan of that kind of music."
Hamilton rolled his eyes and came back to the initial screen, leaning down to pick up the keyboard. Hampton noticed him struggling to type on it. He still hadn't grown accustomed to the absence of his little finger on his right hand yet. He was visibly frustrated with that fact, as the doctor lost his cool, grabbed the keyboard, ripped it from its cable, and launched it across the lab. Hampton waited for him to collect himself before speaking again.
"Feel better?"
Hamilton chuckled. "A little. It’s hard to adjust from home row keys."
"Good. My fiancé always feels better when she destroys something too," Hampton replied with a grin. “She probably felt good when she destroyed my freedom."
Hamilton glared at him over his shoulder. “Do you regret that decision?"
Hampton realized he'd made a mistake with that last joke. Unlike the doctor, he hadn't been forced to kill the remnants of the woman he loved. He didn't know the whole story, but there was definitely a history between the doctor and Tuefel's greatest subject that was now the priority of Hamilton’s studies. "Sorry, I didn't-"
"It's fine. I'm just glad not everyone has to see the same thing I did…though I suppose many have. I intend to make sure it won't be repeated much more than it already has.”
Hampton dreaded the thought. “I can't imagine what would happen if I saw my love turned into one of them. Hamilton, you're more of a man than I'll ever be for what you did."
Hamilton shrugged his shoulders as he placed his hands on the table and stared absently at the screen. He didn't want sympathy. “I'm less of a man for letting this happen. I shouldn't have kept quiet for so long about Tuefel's little side-project. The only reason I did anything was because Julia wanted me to in the first place.”
Hampton actually felt sorry for the man before him, even if he was partially responsible for of all of this. He was living with his mistakes, and making an effort to correct them. "Hey, if you wouldn't have, we'd have been screwed years ago. I'm impressed that you have a conscious to stop it all, seeing as though…well…"
"I'm not stopping it for any other reason than to bury the mistakes I made," Hamilton spat into his screen, "and other than that I don't care what happens. Tuefel and the others screwed me, and I got my revenge. Maybe the world could use less people to avoid breeding more like us.”
Hampton swallowed hard as Hamilton continued to stared blankly at the screen, lost in thought. A high-pitched squeal came from the corner of the room behind Hampton. The Major jumped at the sound and looked to see a pig nestled up next to a desk. It wasn't that large, but its presence was baffling. Hampton turned back to the doctor, who was still facing the opposite direction.
"She's my company. I decided against using her in my testings.”
"I see," Hampton said, eying the animal.
Hamilton decided to attempt to change the subject to something he actually had more interest in. “Did you find anything on the man mentioned in the first message?"
"You mean our Nekromant?"
Hamilton turned around. “Yes. Am I to assume nothing has been discovered as to who he is?"
Hampton shrugged. Hamilton silently nodded and turned back to the computer monitor. Whoever this person was, he or she was responsible for the state of the world right now. Apparently they were also a fan of Role-playing games or something. A name like that was too dramatic.
What would you have gone with? Henry King again?
"Still stressing over the mission?" Hampton asked. Hamilton laughed, to Hampton's surprise.
"Stressing? Stressing is what I do when I don't have answers. I've stressed over this outbreak. I haven't stressed over this assignment. I'll have my answers through this mission. If anything, I'm excited."
Hampton was envious of the man's enthusiasm. Sure, Hamilton lost his mind every now and then, and his head may not have been screwed on right in the first place, but he didn't let every bad possibility drag him down. He was very sanguine for someone with the responsibility of the world on him. In the short time that he'd gotten to observe the doctor's work, Hampton had pegged him as someone who looked at a grim situation and only sought the benefits in it. If that was why everyone had labeled the doctor insane, Hampton was willing to argue that label.
Hamilton walked away from the desktop to the front corner of the room to Hampton's left. On the table was a severed head suspended in liquid inside of a large glass casing. The bottom jaw had been detached, and only the eyes were in motion as the doctor began to attach electrodes to the bald scalp of the head. Another computer was set up next to the bizarre sight.
"What are you doing?" Hampton asked.
"Using EEG to study the brain activity of a subject," the doctor replied as worked away on the keyboard while staring at the screen. “You might remember her; she had a certain affinity towards one of the men who was meant to guard me."
