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Subject: (UW!)(NC) story
From: tiels70@aol.com (Tiels70)
Date: Mon, 30 August 1999 03:27 PM EDT
Message-id: <19990830152732.17659.00001639@ng-fd1.aol.com>
(This is a story I've been working on so I thought I'd use it as my characters
opening story)
The seemingly endless waits. That's what gets to me. Not the
running or gunning, but the silent wait. Ever since it started it seemed to be
one or the other. Either we were dodging death around every turn and blasting
away with rifles and handguns, or we were faceless in the dark. Waiting, and
watching.
Eric was not the military type, but since the out break it seemed no one had a
choice. You either fought or you died, and Eric definitely wasn't the dying
type. The government had all sorts of great answers to the question of what
was going on. And they had great solutions to the problem. But none of that
meant jack to Eric, who knew the one absolute. All hell had broken loose on
the face of the Earth, and the government and all the people were running
around like chickens without their heads! The world had suddenly been turned
inside out because of the creatures that now roamed the earth. "Creatures"
Eric thought to himself, "Not hardly." But everyone had their own name for
them. Most called them Zombies, Like something from Night of the Living Dead!
Others just called them the walking dead. Eric didn't know what to call them.
All he knew was that the dead were walking the earth and devouring the flesh of
the living. And that was the worst part of it, the dead killed, The people
they killed got up and killed. What a nightmare it had all been, Right from
the get go.
Eric Could still remember the first time he saw one. He was coming out of a
quickie mart Where he was picking up chips and beer when he came face to
grizzly face with one of the dead. It appeared to have been a middle aged man
before it had killed. His eyes had sunken back deep into its skull and its
hair was falling out by the hand full. Its skin had become an ash grey color
and the deterioration made it look as though it would crumple into a sack of
bones any moment. Its clothes were torn and tattered and covered in blood
stains. And as Eric stood there speechless, it curled back it lips in a
bloody snarl. Dark blood from its previous victims tattooed on its teeth.
Eric would have died from his first encounter with one. Had it not been for
the gun toting convenience store owner.
Not long after Eric's run in with one of the dead, all the restrictions began.
At first they were small things like no one out after dark. This way the
military could take out the zombies without having to worry about weather or
not they were shooting humans. But the battles went on. And after a month or
so when the government saw that they were loosing ground in the battles, they
began moving people out of the rural areas into the cities. They began herding
people into relief shelters. Which turned out to be an idiotic idea, once the
dead found a way into the shelters it became a slaughter house.
Eric had joined the Chicago swat teams after the second week of the epidemic.
At the time it seemed like the sensible thing to do. It gave him secure
shelter and access to automatic weapons. But in the two months he served with
them he'd seen enough death. And all the while all he could think of was
running, running from the entire mess. Some of the swat members that had
deserted before him had talked of going to islands. Or to England, they had
the situation there pretty well under control. Or so they heard.
Now here Eric sat on the roof of one of the abandon relief shelters in south
Chicago. His dark hair blew gently as a breeze filled with bad odors, cooled
the sweat on his forehead. The breeze was relaxing and the putrid smell didn't
even faze him. It had the first time he smelled it, as a mater of fact it
caused him to vomit. But now it had infested the entire city. And after
smelling it for two solid months he didn't notice it anymore. He watched a
lazy rope of ash drop from the last of his cigarette. One of the many bad
habits he'd picked up since it started almost two and a half months ago. He
flicked it and watched it fall to the empty street below. This part of town
was almost completely empty. All the people had moved on, and the zombies
tended to go where the food was.
It had been a long time since he'd seen himself in a mirror. The last time he
bothered to look at himself in the mirror, His blue eyes seemed gray. And his
once young skin seemed old and used. He was only twenty-two, but he felt like
he was about fifty. He shot a sideways look at his partner, Sam. Who didn't
look vary peppy either. Sam Jackson, it was a funny name for a black man. Sam
had the normal short black hair with deep brown eyes. And a smile that could
brighten the worst of days. Which seemed to be every day. He wasn't that much
taller than Eric, he stood probably five-ten, but he was a Large built man. He
wasn't a pro-bodybuilder but he was large enough to make most men stand down in
a fight! He'd saved Eric's life a few times, and he was a good friend.
Then there was Timothy Hains, who everybody called Rolley. Which was short for
rolley polley. He had been given this name when joined the swat team a few
weeks after Eric himself. And they called him that because he was a short
chubby man, who as much as Eric didn't want to admit, looked like a rolley
polley. With his nappy brown hair and coke bottle glasses, along with his
double chin, Rolley, had a hard way to go on the team. The only reason Eric
and Sam had let him come along was because the little snoop had over heard them
talking of their plans. And though Eric didn't tell Sam, he sort of felt sorry
for the little weasel.
"Heads up." Sam's deep voice broke Eric's musings. Eric looked up to see Sam
pointing his rifle at the van pulling down the street. They were waiting for
Eric's brother, John, who was in the Army Rangers. Eric had given him the
address of this place two days prior. It had to be John coming down the road.
It was highly unlikely that anyone else would be here. Although they couldn't
be too careful. If the police or military found them they'd be either shot or
severely beating for being deserters.
"Oh boy. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy…." Rolley began. Even his voice sounded
chubby in a funny way. He was already laying prone pointing his rifle down the
road.
"Rolley, if you shoot my brother, I'm gonna blow your brains out myself." Eric
gave him a look that told him he was half joking, but mostly serious. "every
body lay low." Eric gave the command, as he lay on his stomach him self.
Rolley began to shake as he always did before confrontation. He tried hard to
hide it, Eric could tell. But the harder he tried the more he shook. The dark
blue van pulled to a stop in front of the old relief shelter and the driver
side door popped open with a creak. But before the driver could show himself
Eric knew it was his brother. He was up and lowering himself off the short one
story building by the time John poked his head out the door.
"Well if it isn't my little brother!" Johns Commanding voice broke the night
air. And to Eric it was a welcome break. He had longed to be with his brother
ever since it started. John was good in combat. Eric jogged to the front of
the van where his brother met him and they gave each other a bear hug.
"It's been to long brother." Eric said letting more than a hint of relief and
happiness show through his voice.
"Yes it has." Came johns almost military voice. Eric took a step back and
looked his brother in the eyes. He looked as if something had caught him off
guard. Eric noticed that John was looking in back of him, and turned to see
what could be taking away from their family reunion. Rolley and Sam had jumped
down from their hiding places and were headed for the van. And Eric knew What
John was up set about. It was Sam, Eric was afraid of this happening. John
didn't care too much for black folks, and wasn't quiet about his dislikes
either.
Eric turned back to his brother and leaned in close enough to whisper, "He's a
great help in combat and he's a good friend." John held the look of
disapproval and Eric whispered again "He's saved my life a few times." This
time Eric put a tone in his voice that Told his brother there wasn't going to
be a discussion. John relaxed his eye brows a bit and asked.
"Who's the butter ball?" Eric threw a look back at Rolley And said.
"That's Rolley, tell you about it some other time."
"Rolley, eh." John looked questionably, but said "well there'll be plenty of
time for introductions And stories once we get on our way. It's not safe out
here. I spotted a pack of the flesh eaters on my way here."
And with that the rag tag grope of ex-soldiers pilled in the van. Sam and
Rolley sat in back while Eric got in the front passenger seat. As John jumped
in the drivers seat Eric looked back to see Sam and Rolley standing in the back
of the van which had no seats.
"Hay man," Sam's voice came from the back "They Ain't no seats back here."
John turned his head looking agitated and replied.
"More room for equipment." In a vary dry tone.
"Good enough for me." Sam said, obviously satisfied with the answer. Eric
chuckled and turned around to look at Sam. Who Returned Eric a look of
approval as he found a place for himself on the wheel barrel. Then Eric
noticed something he hadn't see before. At the back of the van sat a woman.
Eric didn't know John was bringing company. She sat on the floor at the back
doors of the van. The back of the van was dark, and though he couldn't make
out her features, Eric could see that she had long raven black hair. She was
cleaning a hand gun, which looked like a SIG p239. Eric, who was never much on
guns had become almost an expert since this whole thing had begun.
"lets get moving." Johns voice interrupted. He was looking at Eric with a
half grin. John fired up the van and put it in drive. And as they started off
down the dark road, Eric felt a sense of escape flood over him. He was about
to leave Chicago behind. Yes, he was leaving Chicago behind and on to the next
dead infested city!
The blackness stretched out in front of Eric, like an endless road of death.
It was a chilling sight, the interstate was completely abandoned. Other than
one car they had past on the side of the road that was broken down, they had
only seen one other car on the road. Who ever was in that car had past them
like they were standing still. Of course seventy-five was the best their beat
up old van could pull.
Eric looked back at their passengers, who were all still asleep. He and John
had a great discussion about their little group, once the others had finally
fallen asleep, after everyone had been introduced. John had almost woken them
with laughter, while Eric related the tale of how Rolley came about his name,
and when he wet himself in combat. Eric found out that there female companion
was the daughter of a General in the rangers. Eric had wondered how John
managed to get away from the Army so easily, it seemed this girl was his ticket
out. Though John wasn't seeing her as Eric had suspected. It was just a
General that didn't want to see his daughter butchered. Eric guessed this was
the Generals best shot at hoping she would make it to England. This General
must have though highly of John to entrust him with his daughter.
They were headed south to an air field where a mutual friend of theirs, Ian
was waiting with an Army huey. Ian had been in an elite anti-terrorist group
before the out break. Some how he managed to break free of the Army, and steal
a huey while he was at it. Eric had no doubts about Ian, he and John had all
been friends since they were in the second grade. Ian, was always the soldier
even when they would play soldiers as children Ian would win. He was a cunning
strategist.
John had told Eric that there were a few people in Ian's party too. They
already had five people in this van, and the equipment that John brought. Eric
was hoping that this was a big huey.
John had a few cases in the back, that was filled with medical supplies and
some extra weapons. John was carrying a silenced H&K M.P.-5. While Eric, Sam
and Rolley carried their Armalite AR-10A2's. They were standard issue for
their swat team. Eric also had his Colt Defender, which he'd had as home
protection before this whole thing broke loose. Now he used it as a side arm.
THUMP! The pounding at the front of the van ripped Eric from his thoughts. A
zombie had lurched out in front of Them. John didn't even try to avoid it he
just rammed it. What little blood the dead had left in its body, had
splattered on the windshield. John reached down and flicked the wipers as if
nothing had happened. Eric looked back at their group. Rolley, was wide awake
and shaking as usual. Sam was already trying to get back to sleep, and Helena
hadn't appeared to even hear it.
It was early dawn, the sun was just shining over the tree tops, as John pulled
into a small air field. The field was mostly filled with small three to four
person air craft. To their left Eric could see a large hanger. And at the end
of the hanger he could see the tail end of a helicopter jutting out from behind
the building. As John circled the hanger Eric got a better look at the huey.
It seemed to be a fairly large air craft. On the pilots side stood a large man
refueling the bird. Before they could even see his face Eric knew it was Ian,
simply by the size of him. He was six foot easily, with short dark hair and a
mustache. Ian was pro-bodybuilding material. Growing up he was always in
fights because of his size. All the kids in school figured if they could whip
the biggest guy in school that would make them the toughest guy on the block.
None of them ever did though, Eric would be surprised to learn if Ian had ever
lost a fight. Eric turned to their passengers and said.
"Up and at 'em soldiers." Sam opened one eye, and took a look around before
coming fully awake. Helena squinted her eyes and shook her head a bit as if
shaking off the shreds of nightmares she'd been having. Eric had noticed her
twitching during the night. Rolley, was already awake, he had been ever since
they ran over the zombie over an hour ago.
John pulled the van to a stop twenty or so feet from the huey. Through the
windshield Eric watched as Ian turned with his mustache filled smile and gave
them a wave, all his own. Ian, reminded Eric of Tom Sellack on steroids. Both
Eric and John stepped out of the van at the same time. Ian was finished
refueling and had put the pump back on the tank.
"What's happening Bros?" Ian voice seemed to be as strongly built as he was.
It matched him well. Both Eric and John where shaking hands with their friend.
"I got the chopper fully fueled and ready to go." Ian said looking at John.
John pointed over his shoulder at the van and said.
"Lets get my equipment loaded in then and be on our way." Ian nodded and then
turned to face Eric.
"Long time no see, little man!" Ian had always made fun of Eric's size. And
though he wasn't really short, about five-eight, in comparison to Ian he had no
defense. It was a welcome crack though. Now that he was back with John and
Ian, Eric felt like they could survive anything together.
"How you been?" Eric ignored Ian's short crack. Ian chuckled And said.
"I been well, only ran into a few dead on the trip over here, nothing to worry
about."
"UNGH…" It had come from the hanger. And Eric knew the sound immediately.
Zombie. Eric looked to see a rusted old door in the hanger squeak open. And
he watched a dead stagger though. It had a limp leg and its stomach was
completely missing. Nothing but an empty cavity where his intestines had been.
Eric yanked back the cocking lever on his AR-10 and aimed up for a head shot.
BANG! Before he could squeeze off the shot Ian had already drew and fired
with his Taurus.454. The shot from the massive revolver tore off half of the
zombies forehead. Gray brains dropped out on the ground, but there was vary
little blood. There never was much blood, most of it had drained out when they
were killed. The now dead, undead swayed for a moment then crumpled to the
ground. Eric looked back at Ian, who had a grin spread across his face.
"Nice shooting." Eric said with a hint of sarcasm.
They loaded up the equipment box's John brought, then every one introduced
each other before pilling into the huey. Besides Ian they had picked up two
new members. Greg, who was an older man probably in his mid forties. He had
blondish red hair that was receding back onto his forehead. He was a little
over weight and had a very weathered face. Then there was Julie, who had been
a nurse, as matter of fact she still wore her nurses outfit. She was a young
blonde, with blue eyes. Eric could already See that Rolley had taken a liking
to her.
It was a big chopper, but eight people was a tight fit. Eric Was kneeling
between the pilot and co-pilot seats. With Ian in the pilot seat, and John in
the co-pilots seat. There was a single bench at the back of the huey, where
Julie sat next to the left hand wall. With Rolley, next to her. Eric could
clearly tell that Rolley was gazing at Julie's thighs. Julie just sat there
with her legs and arms crossed, obviously annoyed by Rolley. Next to Rolley
was Sam, who sat with The butt of his AR-10 on the floor, griping it around the
barrel. He seemed to be staring off into a distant memory. Next to him
against the right wall was Helena. She sat with her legs folded, one arm was
on the window propping up her head, as she stared out at the passing country
side below. The other arm was laid gently across her stomach. She wore tight
black pants, and a white long sleeve shirt. That had over sized lapels, and
cuffs. The top was unbuttoned down to the third or so button. Now that he
could see her in the light, Eric, noticed that she had a hint of Mexican in
her, Though he suspected that from her name. Her long black hair hung back
over her shoulders. She had dark eye's and full lips, Eric forced him self to
look away. If he knew his brother, John was probably already putting down
lines on her. Then there was Greg who sat on the floor against the right wall.
He seemed to be a pretty up beat guy, in the short while Eric had known him,
he'd already cracked a few jokes. Eric, could see why Ian liked him.
"Where we headed any ways?" John's voice broke the steady drone of the
choppers engine.
"There's an old abandoned military bomb shelter, about three hours south of
us." Ian didn't have a vary hard time being heard over the chopper. "It's
perfect, we can stop there, eat and refuel before heading for the coast. Place
has got everything you could want!"
"How do you know it's still there?" John questioned.
"You can only get in to the place by air." Ian motioned as he flipped a few
switches on the dash. "It's two floors. One above ground and one below. The
only door in is on the roof. So you can't get to it by ground. The area it's
in is pretty isolated, but still covered in zombies. No one's been to it yet
because there just aren't enough choppers to go around. We should have the
place all to our selves. It was one of the shelters built in case of Americas
invasion. A place where important government type could hold up." Eric
chuckled to himself and said.
"You think we qualify as important people?" Which brought a pretty good laugh
from the whole group.
Ian, suddenly sat forward in his seat, straining to see something. Eric and
John both peered over the flight console.
"I see it." John said to Ian with a look of question. Whatever it was Eric
still didn't see it. All he could see was an open pasture with zombies in it.
"What is it?" Sam's voice came from the back. Ian shot a look back at Sam,
and said.
"There's a girl down there." Eric took a second look and sure enough there
was a girl running through the zombies. "What do you think?" Ian questioned
of Eric and John. Eric looked up to his brother who raised an eye brow and
said.
"What the hell, one more couldn't hurt." With that Ian swung the huey back
around, And John called out, "Open the side door so we can get her in here!"
Sam was already opening the right side hatch, but turned and said,
"Looks like we may be to late!" Eric looked out the side door to see that the
girl was surrounded in zombies. Eric pulled his AR-10 from his shoulder, and
lined up for a shot. One of the dead was clutching the girls shoulders, about
to sink his bloody teeth into her neck. Eric did his best to line up his shot
with the swaying of the chopper. He pulled the trigger and watched a hole open
in the zombies forehead above his left eye. The dead fell forward knocking the
girl down. Sam and john had already started picking off the other zombies.
Eric turned and yelled the obvious.
"Be sure you don't hit the girl!" Eric looked down to see that the frantic
girl had already push the corps off her and was running towards the chopper.
Ian lowered the chopper until it was four feet or so from the ground. Eric and
Sam put their hands out and pulled the girl in.
"Go, go!" Sam shouted as Ian, lifted off again. The young girl fell against
Sam's chest and began sobbing uncontrollably. Sam smoothed out her hair with
one large hand, while Helena knelt down beside the young girl, trying to
comfort her. Eric saw something in Sam's eyes he hadn't seen before. Sam's
four year old daughter had been killed by a pack of zombies. Eric knew Sam
blamed himself. But know it seemed as if somehow Sam had found redemption in
this young girl.
And so our little band hand picked up a ninth member. Her name was Jenny, she
was only nineteen years old. She had brown hair that ended just above her
shoulders, with big brown puppy dog eyes. She was wearing cut off denim
shorts, and a halter top, with red converse. Eric noticed a deep scratch on
her left thigh.
"Did you get that scratch from a zombie?" Eric asked. She looked down at it
and said.
"No, I was in a car with my friend Sara, when the zombies swarmed our car.
T-they got Sara, and I cut my leg on the door trying to get away! B-but,
t-they got Sara!"
"It's gonna be OK darlin'." Sam's voice was smooth and comforting. Jenny
began crying into Sam's chest again. Sam looked up at Eric and gave him a
tight lipped smile that Eric could see wasn't supposed to show.
Dar Tiels