Z-Level 10: A Zombie Apocalypse Novel

by Cole, Michael

  The team had ventured a mile in by now. With each step the mud seemed to be getting deeper. It was becoming more of an effort to simply walk, much less walk silently.

  “Christ,” Gordon said, looking at the tight wrapping of vines along one of the trees. It was wrapped around its trunk like an anaconda. In the space between two of its curls were the gaping jaws of a rotting corpse. Its eyes were gone, as was the majority of its skin. It was still alive--in the way zombies were considered alive, its mouth moving ever so slightly. Its entire body was pinned under the vine, its meatless arms protruding in impossible postures.

  He stopped and gazed ahead, watching Bolden wander ahead through the mist. He watched as masses of fog drifted in and out of the lights, consuming the trees as it went. His stomach knotted up, forcing him to fight to keep its contents intact. The smell wasn’t helping matters and was only made worse by the fact that the mud was shallowest near the trees. He was looking at a real haunted forest.

  “The fuck is all of this?” Dallas whispered.

  “Keep it down,” Keegan said. The team continued in, keeping close to the trees to keep from getting stuck in the mud. They moved in a single-file line, with Dunn watching the rear. Reimer scanned the distance area with the scope of his Accuracy International for any signs of hostile activity. To his surprise, there was nothing that he could see. Of course, walking corpses could easily be concealed by the fog and darkness, but then again, if any were around, they’d likely hear them.

  Keegan walked near the front of the group, with only Bolden and Dunn ahead of him. He took the next step, feeling his boot sinking nearly twelve inches deep.

  Shit! He held a fist up, signaling for everyone behind him to stop.

  “Hold it,” Reimer whispered into his mic, alerting Dunn and Bolden. They looked back, seeing Keegan struggling to free his foot.

  “You okay, Sarge?” Dunn whispered.

  “Working on it,” the Staff Sergeant muttered under his breath. Letting his weapon hang over his shoulder, he grabbed his knee with both hands and pulled back. With a loud squish, his foot came free. He stepped back to the nearest tree and waved Cable over.

  “Get that map back out. See if there’s any record of a bog in this area.”

  “In this forest? I can tell you right now, sir, this swamp, whatever it is, wasn’t here before.” Cable got the map out anyway and displayed their location to the Staff Sergeant. “Looks like we’ve gone a bit too far to the south. We should be finding higher elevation by now.”

  “It’s this damn mud. We’re constantly trying to avoid ending up in a sinkhole,” Keegan said. He shined his light out at the trees. “Not only that but can’t see where the hell we’re going.”

  “Give me a sec, sir,” Cable said. He pulled a compass out and started examining their distance and direction. As he did the math, the team fanned out to defend their position.

  Dallas took long strides as he marched toward a tree to the left. He looked out into the forest behind it, seeing no movement other than the drifting fog. He chose to hold position there. As he stared, he couldn’t help but stare at the strange vines. Each tree was entangled in them. Their secretion gleamed in the light, looking like saliva from a dog’s mouth.

  Further out, he noticed another tree. Its trunk had been draped almost entirely, the tentacle-like vines extending out into the ground. Some of them curved upward like thorn bushes. This organism, whatever it was, seemed to have progressed further than the others. It had grown little bulbs along the stem, each the size of baseballs. They were leathery in texture, appearing like a flower that had yet to bloom.

  Reimer and Gordon noticed their teammate moving out.

  “What are you doing?” Gordon whispered.

  “I’m not getting too close,” Dallas said. He took a few steps closer then stopped, keeping at least ten feet between him and the nearest vine. He gazed at the strange formations, wondering what its function was. Then again, part of him didn’t want to know, either.

  Meanwhile, Keegan and Cable continued to look over the map.

  “We’re gonna have to keep sticking to the trees if we want to go that way,” Cable said, pointing out where they needed to go.

  “Any idea how far this bog extends?” Keegan asked. “Because I’m not too keen on getting too close to these vines.”

  “It’s not on the map, sir,” Cable said. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “Damn it. Looks like we don’t have much choice,” Keegan said. He gripped his rifle and motioned for Cable to put the map away. “Alright, ladies. Let’s carry on. Dallas, get back over here.”

  “Aye, sir,” Dallas said. He turned to walk away, only to wince in pain. He nearly twisted his knee, as his foot had sunken into the mud. “Fuck, hold on,” he whispered into his mic. He pulled on his leg, generating another loud squishing sound as his boot came free. Blowing a sigh of relief, he started to walk away, only to stop at a prolonged sound of gurgling mud. He turned back, seeing one of the large vines had protruded toward him. The bulb on its end appeared to stare directly at him like a snake eyeing a mouse.

  The top of it peeled back like flower petals, exposing a red interior. Just as he thought to step away, a thick syrupy liquid launched from the bulb, splattering over his face.

  Dallas stumbled back, dropping his gun and covering his face with his hands.

  “The hell?” Keegan muttered. Reimer and Gordon rushed to help him.

  “Dude, you alright?” Reimer said. Dallas didn’t answer. He kept his face covered, muttering pained squeals. Reimer lifted up on him to straighten his posture. Gordon pulled back on one of his hands to examine him.

  Strands of skin peeled back with Dallas’ hand, exposing teeth and red muscle tissue. The syrup ate at his face like an acid, dissolving one eye into the socket. Now, Dallas was screaming.

  “Good God!” Reimer muttered. “Medic!”

  “Corporal, what the hell’s going on?” Keegan said. Reimer couldn’t answer, as he was busy trying to control the sailor. Dallas staggered back, flesh pulling outward with his other hand. The smell hit the entire group like a freight train, even causing Keegan to briefly stop on his way toward them. Dunn aimed his gun at the bulb, exploding it with a single round.

  “Stay the hell away from those things,” he warned.

  “Everyone, maintain a perimeter,” Keegan ordered. “Dallas, son, I need you to calm down and let us help you—”

  His words landed on literal deaf ears, as they were gone. The acid ate through the skin and cartilage, now going deep into the channels, turning his eardrums to foam. His cheeks were entirely gone at this point, his face dissolving in red-and-white suds.

  “Sir, what the hell do we do?” Gordon panicked.

  “Open your canteen and get some fucking water on him!” Keegan ordered. Dallas again staggered back in agony, unwittingly wading into deep mud. In seconds, he was stuck up to his knees, his face dripping around him.

  “Damn it! Pull him out!” Keegan was yelling now. He and Reimer grouped around it, while Gordon fought to keep from retching. He wasn’t the only one, as the muscular and seemingly fearless Bell was undergoing the same struggle. The broad-shouldered Ranger sucked in several breaths to maintain control, which only added to the inner peril, as the air was so foul from the bizarre solution.

  He leaned forward, putting his hands on his knees as he retched. He spat, clearing out what little he got out. As he recovered, his eyes gazed up at the lake of mud ahead of him. The ground was moving, bits of mud swaying back and forth. It reminded him of fishing trips as a kid, when he dug for worms to use as bait. Whenever he found dirt full of them, the loose soil often moved in the same way.

  “Staff Sergeant!” he called out.

  “What is it?” Keegan yelled. He looked up and saw what Bell was seeing. Ripples of mud moved toward the group. Then, like miniature tidal waves, they swelled as bodies stood up from the bog. Rotting corpses marched through the mud, their clothes hanging from th
eir skeletal figures.

  Bell looked all around. Everywhere he turned, he saw undead converging on their location. What was seemingly a barren swamp was now teeming with ghouls.

  He and Dunn started firing off rounds, popping skulls and dropping their bodies back into their muddy graves. Keegan and Reimer pulled on Dallas. He was stuck too far into the mud. With his other eye melted away, he seemed to have no understanding of what was happening. His movements were completely panicked, spurred further by the pain.

  Keegan staggered as he tried to fasten a better grip, nearly getting himself stuck. He looked up, seeing several ghouls closing in.

  “Fuck!” He and Reimer let go of Dallas and resumed the gunfire. It was like an ambling army which stretched far out across the bog. It was clear to the Staff Sergeant that there was more undead here than they had bullets. There were only two choices; move or die. “Withdraw!”

  The men pushed back away from the deep mud, making sure to keep their distance from the vines. Keegan remained, making sure his men all got away safe before moving back himself. He aimed his submachine-gun at Dallas, intent on putting him out of his misery.

  As he squeezed the trigger, one of the ghouls lunged at him. The Sergeant turned, putting the bullet meant for Dallas through the eye socket of his attacker, blasting the back of its head outward. He tried again for Dallas, but now it was too late. The corpses were all over him, ripping the clothes from his arms and shoulders as they bit into his flesh. Keegan gritted his teeth, feeling every bit of pain that the sailor was going through. The horde converged from the enormous mud puddle toward him, forcing the Sergeant to push back.

  The team was forced to scatter, fighting off numerous undead that rose from around them.

  Dunn and Gordon ran side-by-side, picking off ghouls that stood in their path. Mud splashed under their boots, sinking them down six-inches per step. Gordon pitched forward as one of his feet was caught. Dunn turned just in time to keep him from falling. He held his fellow marine up and tried to straighten his posture.

  Splashes of mud crunched behind him. He felt the hot breath of another ghoul bearing down on him. Dunn tensed, believing this to be it. A wet texture sprayed over his shoulder, followed by a thump as its body fell against him before hitting the ground. Dunn glanced down, seeing its headless body laying at his feet. Looking back up, he saw Reimer, his AK-9 held at eye level, his face expressing relief for pulling off the shot.

  Dunn pulled hard against Gordon, helping him to get free of the mud. With a hard yank, they both stumbled back, successfully freeing Gordon, and sinking Dunn waist deep into another sinkhole.

  “Shit!” he yelled. He struggled and grabbed for anything to pull him loose. He looked back toward the sound of growling ghouls wading effortlessly through the mud. Their eyeless faces were fixed on him, clanging splintered teeth together. He aimed his gun and fired, cursing as he and Gordon repelled the advancing group.

  “Could use a little help here!” Gordon yelled out. Reimer and Keegan were already there, while Bell and Bolden fought off the several walkers that moved in from the south.

  Reimer reached for Dunn, only to nearly sink in himself.

  “Get anything to pull him out with!” Keegan yelled.

  Cable ran ahead, reshaping a scrawny ghoul’s face at point blank range. He aimed carefully, firing sounds at semi-auto into a gathering near a tree. The four targets slumped to the ground, buried chest deep in mud. As dozens of others moved in, Cable hurried toward the tree. He grabbed a large branch, which had nearly broken from the trunk, and pulled. The branch swayed but didn’t give, as the fraction still attached was still firm.

  “Here!” Bell yelled, running to the sailor. The muscular soldier grabbed the branch and pulled down with all his might. Wood crackled and snapped as it gave way. It released, coming down on the head of another ghoul. “Let’s go!”

  Cable followed Bell back to the others. He and Bolden stood several feet out from the group, providing cover fire while they extended the branch to Dunn. The marine wrapped his fingers along its rough surface and held tight. Bell, Reimer, and Keegan pulled at once, hauling Dunn free of the pit.

  “Oh, finally!” Dunn muttered.

  “Don’t think you have to thank us, or anything,” Gordon said.

  “Actually, don’t! Instead, let’s get the hell out of here,” Keegan said. The team moved left around the bend of the sinkhole. Bell took the lead, pummeling ghouls as he pushed through. Looking to the north and west, the herd was thickening, appearing like an unbreachable wall of bodies. The only way was eastward.

  Bell and Cable stopped on their heels as they found themselves nearly submerged into another deep mud pit. The team bunched behind them, trying to keep from getting too close to the trees. Behind them, the undead closed in, forcing the team to spread out.

  Dozens of bullets tore through the air as the soldiers dispersed. Seeing a tight gathering moving in from the northwest, Keegan yanked a grenade from his vest, tore the pin away, and tossed it. The metal ball landed in the center of the group. Mud and bodies tore several feet off the ground from the ensuing blast, its echo surging through the trees.

  The wall of ghouls snarled, writhing in the mud in various stages of decay. The fresher ones quickened their pace, spurred on by the blast.

  Bolden tried to maneuver around a tree, only to find another huge vine armed with bulbs. He spun on his heels and dashed from it, nearly embedding himself in another lake of mud.

  “Sir, there’s no way out!”

  “Don’t you even think about panicking!” Keegan yelled at him. They continued popping off rounds, adding several small mists of brown as skull and brain matter were breached. Yet, despite the number they put down, the gathering only seemed to grow larger.

  Cable moved along the lake of mud, sticking his foot along the edge to find any shallow region. Every few feet, he found nothing but depth. Cursing, he moved further back. He stopped to fire his AK-9 at a group of ghouls that lashed at him from the mud.

  He stuck his foot out one more time. To his surprise, beneath an inch of mud was solid ground. He leaned more weight onto it. Whatever it was, it held.

  “HEY!” he yelled to the others. “THIS WAY!”

  He stayed in place, marking the location for the team to move. The team assembled, moving in a single-file line over the shallow region. Bell was first to cross. After about six feet, he started to sink about eight inches, but by then the mud was diluted enough for him to wade through. The rest of the team moved one-by-one, with Keegan being the last to go.

  “Good work,” he said to Cable. He ran past him, then stopped to wait for the bunched-up team to wade to more solid ground ahead.

  Cable reloaded his weapon as he waited for more space to clear up. Suddenly, the earth beneath his feet started to shift. At first, he thought he was standing on a submerged ghoul. After stepping back, he realized that wasn’t the case. The shifting area took up the entire ground under his feet. Stricken with anxiety, he started to shift back, only to see the ghouls beginning to gather on his location.

  Keegan turned back to provide cover fire. He paused, seeing the miniature earthquake rocking under the sailor’s feet. He stepped in to grab Cable, only to be driven backwards as enormous vines lashed up from the mud like kraken tentacles. He staggered back, joining the others near a shallow region.

  Cable shifted his weight as the ground elevated.

  “Holy shit!” Dunn called out, seeing the huge, bulb-shaped mass rising from the mud.

  Cable looked to the ground, seeing rows of jagged teeth clamped together under his boots. The “solid ground” he stood on was the closed mouth of a seven-foot Venus Flytrap. The jaws gaped wide and gravity did the rest of the work.

  “CHRIST!” Bolden yelled. He and Reimer yanked out machetes and lashed out at the vines to make a path to Cable. The sailor screamed and clawed at the walls of the mouth. The jaws sealed tight around him like an airlock, and the plant’s enormous head sunk back b
eneath the earth.

  Vines fell away as the soldiers cut through them. All at once, they threw themselves at the ground where the plant had sunk.

  Cable screamed in horror. He was trapped in absolute darkness, his head at least two feet under the ground. The walls illuminated in a dark red pigment, exposing veins that traveled along the plant’s mouth. Pain and terror struck together as digestive acid showered down from pores near the roof.

  “Get him out!” Dunn yelled as he and the others clawed at the roof of the plant. They could hear the muffled screams from below, along with shouts of Cable begging for help. The jaws would not pry apart, nor could they cut through.

  The ghouls were now stepping foot on the other edge of the submerged plant, while others waded chest deep in the mud.

  “Come on!” Keegan reluctantly said. “There’s no time! We gotta move!”

  “But sir!” Dunn yelled.

  “Marine, move, or die!”

  Dunn looked down, his eyes enraged. But behind that rage was a rational mind. The Staff Sergeant was right. There was no helping Cable at this point. He stood up and followed the rest of the team out onto solid ground, while the herd of undead jampacked themselves into the deep mud.

  CHAPTER 14

  The team had run for over a mile, zigzagging between trees and the corpses that lurked between them. There was no opportunity for the men to rest and gather their wits, as they were in the heart of hostile territory. At the end of the bog, the team slowed their retreat, using stealth to carefully move around other hordes of undead undetected.

  This tactic took over a couple of hours, requiring patience and calm, something some of the soldiers were rapidly starting to lose. It was almost afternoon when they finally cleared the herd and found a place to take a breather.

  The trees were spaced out on a hill they found, allowing brighter streams of sunshine to seep through. It was still dimmed by the heavy fog that lurked, but compared to the bog, it might as well have been a clear day.

  Gordon and Dunn took a few moments to shake the mud from their gear. It had dried while they waited to get past the herd. Mud had completely crusted their boots and pants. In Dunn’s case, it was all the way up to his waist.