The Beginning

Zombie or Post Apocalyptic themed fiction/stories.

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The Beginning

Post by Deschain » Tue Jul 08, 2008 1:28 pm

A/N: It's a the first chapter. Can I has commentary?

Chapter One

They all stared at me, expecting a story. I pulled my old comforter closer, wrapping myself up tight. I was a little embarrassed.

"Listen, it was nothing big."

"You were there in the beginning, weren't you?"

"Yeah."

"That's something big, isn't it? How many people were there for the start, and got out alive?"

"We don't know."

"So? Get on with it."

I look at the other survivors, cock my thumb towards Jeremy.

"He was there too, y'know."

"Just tell us the damn story," Bear rumbled around a mouthful of beans.

So I did.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

I worked as a janitor at St. Michael's Hospital downtown. I don't have college, couldn't afford it. Barely got my high school diploma. I had been there two years when it all started, I think. Pretty shitty job, but it paid the bills. Mostly ended up that I was cleaning up someone else's piss, or their puke, or shit, or blood. Hated it, but... it's not like I had too many people banging down my door and offering me a job. So I took it, telling myself it was temporary, moved out of my folks' home...and ended up staying there, because I couldn't find anything that paid better with my education.

At any rate, me and Jeremy there were working the nightshift. It wasn't a dark and stormy night. In fact, it was nice but kinda humid. Most of the smog was gone. I went out for a break around two in the morning. I finished up my smoke, came inside, and Jeremy was there. Said he had a fatass DOA. So, we had to bring him to the morgue. His partner was feeling sick from trying to give the guy CPR, and Jeremy said he couldn't get him on the slab by himself. He's my buddy, so I say 'sure'.

My first look at this guy, I figure out things are all fucked up. Both wrists are bandaged all to hell, all the way up the forearms. We stripped off the bandages, I saw the wounds. It was messy. He looks like he's been taken apart by big dogs- I saw that before, too. Guy was wearing a suit, though, that kinda threw me off. It was all ripped to shreds, covered in black shit and blood. Figured he got et by the crack house dog or something. Anyways, Fat Man was white, about 5'11, 320, none of it muscle. Jeremy wasn't kidding when he said he could barely move the guy. We wheel him over to the morgue, and he's shifting around some. I figure he's just too fat for the fuckin' gurney. I mean, dude was huge.

We get to the morgue, the mortician throws a tag on him and leaves us to our devices. We look at the poor bastard, look at that slab, and roll him up beside it. He grabs the shoulders, I grab the feet, and we sorta tug at him. Nuh-uh, he's not moving. We try to roll him over, and he kicked me, my hand to God. Jeremy tells me to stop fucking around, and I try to move him again. I look over at the guy's face, because I'm started to get a little freaked out. His eyes snap open, and I scream. I'll admit it, I screamed, because that was the first time I saw one of them. The mortician and medical examiner come running and see this guy struggling on the table. Me and Jeremy, we back off. He was dead, I know it- he was cold and turning grey when I first laid eyes on him. I look at this guy, who looks at his wrists, and manages to slur out half a sentence.

"Kill...me," he says, like getting the words out is a struggle. He looks up at us, and suddenly his eyes start to go red from the edges, like a weed buzz in fast motion. It looks like the veins in his eyes start exploding, except the irises go red, too. We're backing right up, knocking shit over. Fat Man starts shambling towards us. We holler for security, and he reaches for the medical examiner, this old guy named Barinksy. Barinksy, he's just jabbering on with his arms out, trying to calm the 'patient' down. Figures it's more an issue of being sued than anything else. Fat Man reaches, grabs Barinsky by the wrist, and before we know what's going on, bites off three of his fingers. I mean, just shoves as much of the hand into his mouth as he can, bites down, and tears them off with a twist of his neck. Blood goes everywhere. All over the Barinsky, down the Fat man's chin, all over. The scrawny old man screams, and the Fat Man swallows the fingers whole, no problem. His assistant goes right after the Fat Man, trying to push him off. Fat Man has a death grip on that forearm, and takes a big ol' bite of Barinksy's palm. We could hear the bone snap, almost made me puke. The assistant, he's screaming and tugging and nothing's happening. Me and Jeremy bolt, try to go and get some help. Barinksy just keeps screaming and screaming...

We page security, and I grab Jeremy by the arm.

"We gotta go back," I tell him. I figure we gotta help out Frank and Barinsky before they get killed. He's all glassy-eyed but he agrees. We run back to the morgue -it's about forty feet from the nearest phone- and find Frank on the ground in a huge pool of blood. The ME is curled up in a corner, watching as Fat Man takes bite after bite out of poor ol' Frank the assistant. The zombie - I didn't even think of it like that back then, just figured guy was crazy- must have changed targets, got him in the neck. Frank's throat is torn out, all kinds of tendons and stuff exposed as he gargles blood. The ME's hand is down to a stump at the end of a wrist. We grab him, start hustling him outta there. He slips, falls a few times. He's losing enough blood to start making him dizzy.

We pull him out - we're both wearing gloves because we were handling the body- and put him outside. We sit him down, and Jeremy starts trying to put gauze over the Barinsky's stump. Barinsky's just moaning, holding it as Jeremy works with whatever little first-aid stuff he's got on him. All of a sudden, he stands up, walks a few feet, and vomits. Now, there's a huge commotion. The first security guard shows up, along with a nurse. The nurse takes over the bandaging and stuff, and the guard starts asking if Jeremy's okay, what happened. We just tell him to get in there and deal with the crazy. We hear screaming, and the second guard runs in before we can say another word. We can hear him.

"HOLY FUCK! Oh, shit. Shit. Sir, stop what you're doing. On your face, sir! Get down! I'll shoot!"

We hear one gunshot, then another. I'm shaking all over. I poke my head in, pushing the door open, I see the guard shooting into the floor. The Fat Man has a grip on his neck, and is tearing up his bicep. The guard is making choking noises, and I can hear pops and crackles as stuff in his neck starts to give. Other people are showing up now. I tell them to call the cops, go and sit downstairs. Jeremy shows up a bit later, and we're both covered in Barinsky's blood. He shakes his head- the old man's too far gone. He didn't even make it to the ER. Jeremy sat down beside me, staring blankly.

Five, maybe ten minutes later, the cops show up. They head upstairs, running right past us. We're shaking, just trying to understand what's going on. More codes are called, more police show up. I hear the gunshots, and Jeremy and I take off. We run outside. Jeremy says to me, he says "Gabe, I think I should go back to the ambulance, see if I can grab another paramedic to ride with. You should probably head down to the police station or something. I mean, I'll get on the radio, tell the cops' dispatch what's going on. That was all sorts of fucked up."

I nod. I don't even head towards my own car, I head towards the ambulance parking with him. There's a bunch of ambulances there, not a soul to be seen. He's looking around. He hollers some, looking for anybody to ride with him. We're freaked right the fuck out. We can't find anyone, but there's lots of blood. We bailed, headed for my place.
Last edited by Deschain on Sun Nov 29, 2009 2:34 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: The Beginning

Post by Name » Tue Jul 08, 2008 2:24 pm

very nice.
the fatguy sounds like my old man.
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Re: The Beginning

Post by TheFreakinBear » Tue Jul 08, 2008 5:12 pm

Deschain. . .You're funny. Good story man!
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Re: The Beginning

Post by Deschain » Wed Jul 09, 2008 6:34 pm

Bear finished his beans. Looking at the others, he said nothing for a moment. Sarah shivered a bit. I don't think it was the cold.

"By the time I woke up, the I-5 was clogged. How'd you get home, man?"

I tried not to remember too many details, but they just flooded back. It was a bit much. I was venting at that point, getting it all out.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Me and Jeremy sat in the cab of my pickup for a shocked moment. I looked at him, covered in gore from the shoulders down. It showed despite the navy jumpsuit. We could hear more gunshots from the hospital, sirens wailing in the distance and getting closer as we sat in the parking lot.

"There was so much blood..." he started, then stopped. His eyes were far off. I didn't say anything. Even I knew that something that had bled that much wasn't getting back up. Hell, there was enough blood in the ambulance bay for three or four people, sprayed up the walls, onto the vehicles, everywhere.

"I gotta...I gotta get back to work, Gabe..."

He tried to open his door, and I grabbed his shoulder.

"Don't be a dumbass, we've gotta get out of here."

I honestly thought it was some sort of terrorist attack. I did. It didn't even register that the Fat Man had actually risen from the dead. I don't even know what I was thinking, actually. I just knew I had to get the fuck out of there. But Jeremy wanted to go back on duty, like it was another shift. Crazy bastard is dedicated.

"Naw, man. I've gotta go out and save some lives. People might be dying."

"I'm pretty sure people are dying, but I'm more concerned right now about those people being us."

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Bear laughed. It came out awkwardly. So sue me. He scraped the bottom of the tin, shook his head.

"You did the right thing, son. You're pretty clearly not a fighter, and that place sounded like a warzone."

"Yeah," I muttered, thinking back, "there were shotguns going off, gunfire."

"Lucky you weren't hit. How many cops you see?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. I had no clue. Just a lot of boys in boots with rifles and handguns and fear in their eyes. I continued.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jeremy gave me a look, the kind that questions who you are and what you're doing there.

"What I mean is that we don't need to die. Anyways, who you gonna ride with?"

He thought about it a sec, then slammed the door shut, nodding. He was so freaky calm, I didn't know what to do except get away from the gunfire. I could see he was scared, he just wasn't freaking out. He had told me once that he had been shot at once on a call. He usually wore body armor on the job. Getting shot won't help anyone, he said to me once, because then there's two victims to deal with instead of one.

I guess I had left the radio on when I turned the car off. When I started 'er up, it came on. We caught the end of 'Thunderstruck' and then the news came on. I was backing up, not really concentrating on what the guy was saying. The parking lot was pretty crowded for that time of night. It had been a busy night at the ER, but I had been in the Geriatric wing most of my shift. I saw some folks walking around, figured it's typical traffic, people getting in and out of their cars. There were like three of them out there, which was pretty typical. Hospitals have people coming and going at all hours. I was driving along, and one of them is in the middle of the lane. I honk at him. He slowly shuffles and turns to face me, and I see that his lower jaw is mostly gone and he's covered in blood. His neck was a mass of bruises. I didn't know what to do.

"He's a paramedic," Jeremy said, as if it were obvious. He was in civvies, jeans and a white shirt. The more I stared at him, the more familiar he became. Jeremy was right. I honk again, and he starts moving towards us. I don't want to run him over, and there's not enough room to go around. I pulled a quick and dirty U-turn, and headed for another exit. I flicked off the radio, and looking back, I wish I hadn't. Know what I know now... well, too late now. I kept going till I hit the I-7, turned west. There were people flying past me at Mach Chicken, just pedal to the metal. One damn near ran me off the road.

My job didn't pay too good- it was so bad, I was running on fumes half the time. No exception that night. I needed gas by the time I was halfway home. I pulled into one of the service stations near Almeda. It was deserted, but then again there was hardly any traffic out that night anyways except the guys flying around. Everything was so weird, out of the ordinary...but I was stupid enough to act like everything was alright. So, we roll up, and we both hop out. I start filling the tank, and Jeremy leans up against the car, looking around. After a few seconds, Jeremy speaks up.

"Where's the attendant?"

I look over to the little booth, and sure enough, no one's there. That's kinda strange, but I figure he's in the back taking a piss or something. I finish up, and Jeremy walks with me towards the booth. Just before the door, he reaches back for me. I stop.

"Blood all over the counter and floor," he whispers. He walks slower now, looking around carefully. He doesn't seem scared, but I sure as hell am. I can see the scarlet all over the tiles, spattered on the window. Enough blood that a person would be on death's doorstep in a best-case scenario.

"Let's get the fuck out of here, man," I whispered to him.

"Gabe, we gotta make sure this guy's okay."

"Too much freaky shit's going on tonight, man. I just want to get home, lock the door, and ride this one out."

He didn't respond, kept going forwards. I followed, just for lack of a better idea. We cracked open the door carefully and poked our heads in. Blood all over the counter, blood on the floor, place was trashed. Chips and garbage all over the place.

"I don't like this."

"Me neither."

We turned around, and saw a figure over by the passenger side of my pickup. I wanted out of there, and out of there now. The strange guy was threatening the quickest ride out of that hellhole, and I freaked out a bit.

"Hey, buds! What are you doing?" I called out to the figure. I couldn't see it properly, too dark. We started walking towards it, scowling with my shoulders back. I saw the head move, turn towards me, start shuffling around the back. I went around to the driver's side by the front, didn't want to get too close to this guy. Too much freaky shit happened already that I didn't want to think about. Jeremy got in first, keeping an eye on the guy. He seemed drunk or high or something. I started digging around in my pocket for my keys.

I didn't see him coming. I just wanted to get the fuck out of there. I took my eyes off the dude, and tried to get at my keys. I heard the window smash, and then the guy was all over me.

I heard Jeremy scream just before my window shattered. I had hands on my shoulders, glass all over me. I don't remember exactly what happened, everything went down so quick. I must have dropped my keys when the guy grabbed me. I remember an open mouth and red, red eyes. Before I knew it, Jeremy was out of the car and dragging me out the passenger side door. I was lucky I hadn't put my seat belt on yet, or he would have been gnawing on me. He started to follow us around the side of the truck with a loud groan. I was all freaked out, and we were both back pedaling. I remember repeating the word 'shit' over and over again as I tried to catch myself.

I almost tripped on the curb near the pumps, stumbled a bit as I watched the strange drifter guy flopping around inside my truck, smearing everything with blood as he reached for us. He groaned again, and I heard a responding groan come from round the back of the stations. I was on the verge of panic. I could get home from here; it was only about three miles. But three miles on foot and three miles in my truck were two pretty different stories. Another moan sounded off the right.

"C'mon," I said to Jeremy, "we’ve gotta run for it."

"Why? There's only one of him!"

"Want to drag a guy like the Fat Man out of your car, get bit a few times?"

"Point taken."

"Follow me!"

So, we ran.
Last edited by Deschain on Sun Nov 29, 2009 2:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Control the things you can control, maggot. Let everything else take a flying fuck at you, and if you must go down, go down with your guns blazing.- Cort

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Re: The Beginning

Post by Snapshot7.62 » Wed Jul 09, 2008 10:49 pm

Good story, can't wait to read more!
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Re: The Beginning

Post by colinz » Thu Jul 10, 2008 8:23 am

Verrrry nice. More please. :)

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Re: The Beginning

Post by LittleTeapot » Thu Jul 10, 2008 8:33 am

Very cool! Thanks for sharing!
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Re: The Beginning

Post by crypto » Thu Jul 10, 2008 9:12 am

Hell yeah.
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Re: The Beginning

Post by Deschain » Fri Jul 11, 2008 12:40 pm

‭"Have you ever been out in a city when it's around three in the morning, Bear?" I asked, shifting around. I was starting to get stiff and tired...but I knew I couldn't sleep. I don't think anyone could at that point. Bear nodded, at any rate.

"Creepy."

Sarah just looked at both of us, eyebrow raised. Then, down at the ground.

"Sorry, my parents...my parents never let me out after ten."

I nodded- it made sense. I tried to explain it to her.

"Well, imagine the downtown core, completely empty. Everything's closed, there's barely any light, any sound. Nothing moves. It's got that eerie, 28 Days Later kinda feel to it. Things echo."

She nodded like she understood.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

So we ran until we couldn't. We'd been looking over our shoulders, no signs of pursuit. But we still ran, because it became just a blind fucking panic. Sensory overload or some shit. We ran a mile, then slowed to a jog, then just sat down and caught our breath. We were by Washington and 31st, in front of the strip mall. Not a soul in sight. There were a few smears on the pavement, but we didn't really look too close. Man, I'm out of shape.

"Dude...what the fuck," I gasped to Jeremy. He wasn't panting like I was.

"I have no clue what the hell is going on."

"Me neither. See those eyes? Shit's like some bad horror movie."

"I keep wanting to wake up."

He laughed. It was all hollow. I did too, and it sounded the same.

"Tried that already, isn't working."

He gave another little chuckle, looked around, still no one to be seen. No whores, no homeless, no rock hounds, it was starting to freak me out. The last time I had seen that was when there was that drive by war, twelve in a day. I don't live in a nice neighborhood, and the surest sign of imminent violence is the people who work the street to stay alive getting gone. I said as much to him. He thought a moment.

"Bad shit's going down citywide, lots of calls, strange ones. That guy who killed Frank was the third guy we had brought in with bites. And I'm positive he was dead. "

"Like, absolutely? I mean, he felt cold to me," I said, thinking about it. "I'm no doctor, though."

"Positive, homes."

I was looking for people at the time, only half paying attention to Jeremy. I couldn't find any, not even a bum. There weren't any signs of violence like you saw in the movies- no flaming cars, no smashed glass...just nothing, no one. Like everyone decided to go to Bulgaria for the week and didn't tell you because they don't like you. It was creepy.

"How far to your place, Gabe?"

"Mile and a half, I guess."

"Let's go then, I could use a mohito to calm me down."

"Fuck yes."

We started walking, looking around. Still no one, no signs of fighting, nothing out of the ordinary. I just couldn't get it. We kept walking, past those big ol' apartment blocks. Not a single light was on. Three in the morning, I wouldn't expect there would be many. We just kept going. Ten blocks, twenty, not a soul around. I wanted to scream 'Hello!' in a bad English accent. We didn't say a word, though, and couldn't hear a damn thing except the odd siren in the distance. No voices, no music, no cars, nothing. Not a damn thing. You wouldn't notice it at first, but a city's always full of noise. Little things- neon buzz, people talking, subways, air vents...even at night you hear it and you don't even notice. You don't notice till it's gone.

Burger wrappers and garbage were all over. We stepped through the crap, eyes peeled. Cars were parked by the side of the street, not all that many, but some. I saw the reflection of a cat's eyes staring at me from a dark alleyway, and smiled. I always loved cats, and if they could make it...well, things couldn't be so bad, could they? I don't know. The cats got by.We were still a good eight or nine blocks from my place when we first heard it. I stopped a second, and Jeremy turned around to look at me. I put a finger to my lips, he raised an eyebrow.

"Any Tango element, this is Tango Two Niner, over."

I heard it, sounded all scratchy to begin with.

"Zero, this is Tango Two Niner, please respond, over."

It was quiet, but there.

"The fuck?"

"Any call sign, this is Tango Two Niner, please respond, over"

There was a sense of urgency in the man's voice I didn't like. It wasn't far off, maybe thirty feet. We ducked into an alcove right before the corner of Washington and Spadina, and waited. I heard a moan, and a dragging sound before too long.

"Any call sign?"

The voice was clearly freaking out and barely keeping it under control. I could hear a limping step to go with the voice.

"Any call sign, this is Tango Two Niner. Have not made contact with any Tango or Foxhound call signs. Request direction, over."

The steps continued quietly, shuffling along. They passed on by. I poked my head out, saw where the noise was coming from.

He had his back to us. I guess he heard something from the way he had come...where his handset was trailing behind him. This soldier, with his helmet and backpack radio all bloody, missing an arm, stood in the middle of the street. He was wearing shin guards and all that, stuff you'd normally see on riot cops. His leg was broke at a funny angle, which was why he was limping I guess. I heard the moan, and I knew...I knew he was one of them. I ducked back into the alcove, grabbed Jeremy, and started running again.
Last edited by Deschain on Sun Nov 29, 2009 2:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Control the things you can control, maggot. Let everything else take a flying fuck at you, and if you must go down, go down with your guns blazing.- Cort

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Re: The Beginning

Post by Blacksh33p » Fri Jul 18, 2008 2:49 pm

You know, this is a great story.

But why does everyone insist on describing some monstrous fatbody ALL THE TIME?!

Whatever, great read! Keep going.
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Re: The Beginning

Post by SimonZayne » Mon Jul 21, 2008 4:20 pm

Nice story man. Keep up the good work.

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Re: The Beginning

Post by Mad_Maxx » Sun Jul 27, 2008 9:57 pm

Subscribed :)
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Re: The Beginning

Post by LittleTeapot » Tue Jul 29, 2008 10:54 am

Nice addition. Thanks for sharing.
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Re: The Beginning

Post by Murph » Tue Jul 29, 2008 8:55 pm

Good start... can't wait for more.
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Re: The Beginning

Post by gart43 » Thu Jul 31, 2008 5:29 pm

Can't wait for more man.
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Re: The Beginning

Post by Deschain » Fri Aug 01, 2008 2:37 am

Sarah clutched her hot chocolate,‭ ‬face deadpan.‭ ‬It was strange to see someone that young coping better than the three of us,‭ ‬but I guessed it was because she just didn't get that this was for real,‭ ‬for keeps,‭ ‬that she had suppressed her memories well enough.‭ ‬I shook my head,‭ ‬reaching for the pot of coffee,‭ ‬and continued with my story.‭

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Suddenly,‭ ‬Jeremy stops.

‭ ‬"We gotta go back‭!"

"The fuck‭? ‬You crazy‭?"

He starts heading back towards this soldier.‭ ‬I grab him.‭

"What are you gonna do,‭ ‬Jeremy‭?"

"Grab his radio,‭ ‬man,‭ ‬c'mon‭! ‬We can figure out what's going on‭!"

He had a point.‭ ‬We turned back around.‭ ‬I swear to God,‭ ‬I have no clue what was going through my head.‭ ‬I guess I was hoping Tango could help us out.‭ ‬What were we gonna‭ ‬do,‭ ‬kill the guy again‭? ‬I mean,‭ ‬he was out an arm,‭ ‬and still walking around.‭

"What if he's still alive,‭ ‬Jeremy‭?"

"Are you gonna say he's not one of them‭?"

That gave me pause.‭ ‬If those...things were still alive,‭ ‬they might as well be dead.‭ ‬We needed that radio.‭ ‬Of course,‭ ‬by the time we were done arguing,‭ ‬the soldier-zombie was hobbling towards us.‭

"Lookit that,‭" ‬Jeremy whispered to me,‭ "‬His stump's not even bleeding.‭"

"Why are we whispering,‭ ‬man‭? ‬He can see us.‭"

We looked at each other.‭

"Should we try talking to it‭?"

"You saw how well that worked for Barinsky,‭ ‬Jeremy.‭"

"Shit.‭ ‬I'm gonna try anyways,‭ ‬alright‭?"

"Alright,‭ ‬I guess.‭"

Jeremy took a step forward.‭ ‬The soldier's eyes were blood red,‭ ‬not focused.‭ ‬He made that moaning sound we've all come to know and love.

‭ ‬"Hey,‭ ‬buds...you need a hand‭?" ‬Jeremy called out.‭ ‬I sniggered a little.‭ ‬The soldier didn't react,‭ ‬just shambled towards us.‭

"Shut up.‭ ‬HEY BUDS‭! ‬You need some help‭?"

It moaned,‭ ‬the sound echoed from a few other sources‭ ‬in the darkness.‭ ‬Things started to go wrong about then.‭ ‬As it got closer,‭ ‬we realized the soldier was pretty clearly dead.‭ ‬There was a huge gouge on the neck,‭ ‬a series of them running up from the shoulder.‭ ‬The uniform was torn.‭ ‬The kid was younger than me,‭ ‬for Christ's sake.‭ ‬But there he was,‭ ‬wandering around downtown with an arm severed at the shoulder.‭ ‬It made me sick,‭ as it reached out with its only arm. I shove it away as hard as I could, pushing it away like it was made of something disgusting. Well, it was!

The zombie fell,‭ ‬moaning again.‭ ‬Again,‭ ‬we heard the responses,‭ ‬getting closer.‭ ‬Jeremy started yanking at the radio,‭ ‬but the kid was struggling.‭ ‬I gave him a few good kicks to the ribs,‭ ‬but that didn't do a thing.‭ ‬Hell,‭ ‬I bruised my shins on his body armor or whatever he was wearing on his chest.‭ ‬He tried to bite me.‭ ‬If‭ ‬I had been a few seconds slower,‭ ‬he would have gotten me.‭ ‬As it was,‭ ‬he tore a huge hunk out of my pants.‭ ‬Jeremy pulled the radio off of him,‭ ‬fell right on his ass.‭ ‬Scrambled to his feet,‭ ‬and started running as he threw the radio over one shoulder.‭ ‬The soldier was crawling along behind us,‭ ‬pulling himself along with his arm.‭ ‬We ran like it was going out of style.

‭ ‬I picked up the handset trailing behind Jeremy once we made it a few blocks.‭

"Tango Two Niner,‭ ‬still there‭?"

Jeremy rolled his eyes,‭ ‬looking at me like I had spelled my own name wrong.‭ ‬We had slowed to a walk towards my place,‭ ‬Jeremy slinging the radio onto both shoulders.‭ ‬He made a pretty fuckin‭' ‬funny face one he realized he had smeared blood and crap all over himself.‭ ‬So,‭ ‬he got pissed at‭ ‬me.‭

"Push down the button by your index finger,‭ idiot‬.‭"

I did,‭ ‬and repeated myself.

‭ ‬"Now,‭ ‬let go so he can talk back.‭"

The response wasn't immediate,‭ ‬but it came through loud and clear.‭

"Unknown callsign,‭ ‬who the fuck taught you comms procedure‭?"

Jeremy snatched the handset away from me.

‭ ‬"Tango Two Niner,‭ ‬this is Bravo Two Two.‭ ‬Sorry about that.‭ ‬Sitrep,‭ ‬over‭?"

"Bravo Two Two,‭ ‬what's your element‭? ‬I think you're on the wrong net,‭ ‬over.‭"

"I'm Starlight,‭ ‬Two Niner.‭ ‬But I can't find a soul on my‭ ‬own nets.‭"

"Same here,‭ ‬Two Two.‭ ‬We're from the Hussars,‭ ‬down here for training with Two Alpha Charlie.‭"‬

I looked at Jeremy.‭ ‬I hadn't known he could speak...errr,‭ ‬Army,‭ ‬I guess.‭ ‬He translated pretty quickly.

‭ ‬"We're talking to the second in command‭ ‬of a tank squadron.‭ ‬I managed to identify myself as a medic.‭ ‬Never heard of these guys,‭ ‬but they're training with Armored Cav.‭"

"How in the hell did you know that‭?"

"Doesn't matter.‭ ‬Let me do this,‭ ‬maybe we can hitch a ride,‭" ‬he scolded me as he turned back to the handset.

‭ ‬"Tango,‭ ‬this is Bravo.‭ ‬Please identify full unit name.‭"

"Two Two,‭ ‬we're a squadron from the Royal Canadian Hussars.‭"

"Alright.‭ ‬Well,‭ ‬we need to get out of here...Saint Mike's downtown is a free fire zone.‭"

"Heard some ugly stuff coming out of there,‭ ‬Two Two.‭ ‬But we're supposed to Romeo Victor with a bunch of Foxhounds to help out there.‭"

"Alright,‭ ‬Tango.‭ ‬Good hunting.‭"

Jeremy cursed under his breath.‭

"Right,‭ ‬well those guys are headed to the hospital to try to help out there.‭ ‬Looks like we're walking.‭"

"Fuck.‭ ‬Should we keep the radio‭?"

"Might come in handy.‭ ‬How much farther to go,‭ ‬dog‭?"

I thought a second,‭ ‬scanning.‭ ‬I could hear distant moans,‭ ‬and the odd gunshot now.‭ ‬It gave me the chills,‭ ‬but we weren't far from my place. I heard other stuff, but I'd rather not know exactly what it was.

‭ ‬"Maybe a block or two.‭ "

He nodded,‭ ‬adjusted the radio further up his back.‭ ‬We kept jogging,‭ ‬didn't stop till we hit my house.‭
Control the things you can control, maggot. Let everything else take a flying fuck at you, and if you must go down, go down with your guns blazing.- Cort

I come in peace, I didn't bring artillery. But I am pleading with you with tears in my eyes: If you fuck with me, I'll kill you all.
-General Mattis

De-Domesticating the Modern Male

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platinumwolf
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Re: The Beginning

Post by platinumwolf » Sat Aug 02, 2008 11:14 am

good stuff.

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Re: The Beginning

Post by suntzu » Sat Aug 02, 2008 9:42 pm

It just gets mo bettah.

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Re: The Beginning

Post by gart43 » Sat Aug 02, 2008 11:30 pm

All right you got me hooked.
Bertrand Russel wrote:War does not determine who is right - only who is left.
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Re: The Beginning

Post by Deschain » Tue Aug 05, 2008 3:36 pm

It was my third cup of coffee gone. I don't think any of us could sleep at that point, but we could make being awake more livable with caffeine. Bear looked like he hadn't slept in a day or two. The scruff was just coming in, and he had bags under his eyes. Jeremy was looking way worse. He had more than a five o'clock shadow, and his eyes were bloodshot. He stared at the floor and mumbled along to the story. Sarah seemed...mechanical. Bags under her eyes were just beginning. She brought another pot of coffee for us without even being asked.

"Thanks, Sarah," murmured Bear. He nodded, and she beamed briefly. I nodded as well, watching. Her short hair swept across her face, and she plunked herself down on the floor again. She rested her chin on her left hand, and rubbed absentmindedly at some dried blood on her forehead with the right. It was unsettling. I kept going.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

I hit my door running. The moans were close by, and there were more and more gunshots ringing out. I mean, it's not the nicest neighborhood, but this was sounding like a one-sided gunfight going badly...for the side with the guns. The gunfire was getting faster, and then one by one the different bangs were silenced. I fumbled with the key to the door of the townhouse I rent. I had to take a few deep breaths to get enough control to get the key in the lock. We rushed in, slammed the door, and locked it. Safe. Finally safe.
I looked at Jeremy. He was covered in blood, panting and leaning on his knees. The radio was splattered in gore. He didn't look so hot.

"Take off your shoes," I managed. We both just erupted into this crazy, desperate laughter. I'm covered in gore, human blood and pieces and filth, and I'm worried about my shitty, stained carpet getting worse. We both laughed till we cried, prying off our boots, putting down the radio. A haunted look took over Jeremy's face.

"Drink, dog?"

He nodded.

"I'm gonna take a shower. Take what you want, there's plenty of Miller."

I showered up. It was probably the greatest shower of my life, too. Lots of hot water for once, and getting all the blood and gunk and sweat off of me felt amazing. I felt like burning my work coveralls, but I just threw them in the hamper like an idiot. I threw on a pair of jeans, flannel shirt, and came back downstairs to find Jeremy flicking stations on the TV. We were getting nothing but static. He didn't say anything. I got myself a beer, one for him.

"Cable out?" I asked.

"Yep. And your fridge is a shameful thing."

"Why's that, dog?"

"You have nothing but salsa, relish, half a pizza and beer in it."

"Still not seeing your point."

"Well, we have nothing to eat once the pizza's gone."

Yeah, it was a bit of a problem. I was used to coming home exhausted, not on a crazed buzz from spending the night running for my life. Pizza and Chinese were staples, since I couldn't cook and I got home so tired. I didn't have much food stored.

"Got beer, though."

Jeremy shook his head, tossed the remote aside. He stretched, listened to the static for a second, and drained his second beer.

"I know. We need to think about this, man. I think this is serious. We haven't seen anyone, the cable's out, there's gunfire outside. We have no food."

"So?" I answered. I was getting a bit frustrated at this point. "It'll all be over my morning, man."

So, we drank. We drank through the gunfire, the screams, the moans. We chatted loudly to try to block things out. We watched a young woman dash past my place, screaming at the top of her lungs and bleeding all over the place. We didn't even have time to open the door to try to get her inside. After about ten minutes, a mob of bloodied people shambled after her. We let them by, not making a sound.

"Shit."

We sat in the darkness, holding our beers as our eyes adjusted. I had turned out the lights, because we didn't want to advertise, right? We could hear screams now, gunfire, closer. We stayed silent. The less said about it, the better. A few bullets went through my window, a few more through the wall. We got a little scared at that point. We hit the floor as a few more bullets whizzed through my house. I covered my head. Broken glass came down on me.

"Got a gun, Gabe?'

"No, but I got a bat."

"Shit. Anything else?"

I didn't own a gun. I couldn't afford it, didn't see the need since I didn't know how to shoot. I had a bat, and that was it for weapons. It seemed like a long time, cowering there in the broken glass and spilled beer. It was probably about two minutes, though.

"Some tools maybe?" Jeremy finally suggested as the fire slowed, then stopped. We had to figure out a way to defend ourselves, seeing as next time they might be shooting at us deliberately.

He nodded. We crawled to the back, then down to the basement. I did a little construction work with my uncle, so I had a few tools. Hammers, stuff like that. Hand tools used to put holes in homes so we could fix rotted beams, put in new piping, whatever needed fixing. I picked up some extra cash on the side working as his 'apprentice'. As soon as we were down there, I turn on the light. We start looking things over. Saws-all? Out. Screwdriver? Out. Jeremy's eyes up my crowbar, takes it off the pegboard. Gives it a quick swing, smiles at me.

"The Bar of the Free Man? Best weapon ever," Jeremy proclaimed, resting it on his shoulder like a champ.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Never mind, Gabe. This'll do for now, but I hope no one tries to break in with a gun or something."

I grabbed my axe- yeah, the fireman one right there. Nice, eh? The night wasn't. We ended up staying up all night, watching a few fires grow, watching the fucking chaos. I'd rather forget...but whatever. I'm here now. Dawn wasn't any better than the night was.
Last edited by Deschain on Sun Nov 29, 2009 2:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Control the things you can control, maggot. Let everything else take a flying fuck at you, and if you must go down, go down with your guns blazing.- Cort

I come in peace, I didn't bring artillery. But I am pleading with you with tears in my eyes: If you fuck with me, I'll kill you all.
-General Mattis

De-Domesticating the Modern Male

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Re: The Beginning

Post by SimonZayne » Tue Aug 05, 2008 3:47 pm

It's getting very good very quickly.
Nice work.

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Dawn of the Dead '04
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The Omega Man
The Postman
The Stand
Land of the Dead
Day of the Dead
Night of the Living Dead
28 Days Later
28 Weeks Later
Location: Minnesota

Re: The Beginning

Post by gart43 » Tue Aug 05, 2008 9:37 pm

Really good stuff dude.
Bertrand Russel wrote:War does not determine who is right - only who is left.
My former DI wrote:Join the Marines, meet intresting people, and kill them

Want to join the armed forces? Click below.
Join the Marines!
Join the Army!
Join the Navy!
Join the Air Force!
Join the Coast Guard!

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Re: The Beginning

Post by undeaddeadguy » Tue Aug 05, 2008 11:17 pm

Pretty good. You might wanna tone down the cursing. When you hear curses uttered, they have power. When you read them over and over again, they have less and less power.

Just my opinion.

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Re: The Beginning

Post by jeepinbandtrider » Thu Aug 07, 2008 4:36 pm

Great story so far keep up the good work.
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