Authors: Tristan Vick
“Why didn’t we see any of this before?”
She gave him a look which said she had no answers for who or what was to blame for the oversight. Valentine frowned and chewed her bottom lip as she nervously watched the orange flashing icons.
“What are your orders sir?”
“I want you to send three teams to lock down the goddamned perimeter and close up those gaps. And turn off that infernal alarm while you’re at it!”
“Yes, sir.” The major reached over and grabbed a head set with a mic and hit a button on the computer panel. As she spoke her voice came onto the spea
ker system for the entire base. “This is Major Valentine. This is a level orange threat. Squads seven, eight, and nine assemble and report for duty. Squads seven, eight, and nine, I repeat, this is a level orange threat.”
The general slammed his fist down on the command table. The frustration of this slip-up cut through his thinly stretched nerves like a raging hot bayonet. Something was off about all this
. Patrols walked that fence day and night. There was no way all of his men could have missed a breach in the fence let alone three of them.
Slowly, Greer
reached inside his breast pocket and pulled out a cigar tin. Plucking out a plump cigar, he rolled under his nose as he took in the scent of tobacco. Just then, five more orange marks lit up on the screen. Then several more. All of them blinking furiously. This time a new alarm sounded.
Valentine
shot the general with a worried look. “Full perimeter breach, sir.”
Greer mulled over the information then said, “Cancel my previous orders and initiate failsafe protocols.”
“Yes, sir,” Valentine said, stress induced sweat streamed down both sides of her face. She flicked on the intercom.
“This is
Major Valentine, the perimeter has been breached, we’re under attack. All units mobilize. This is not a drill. I repeat, we’re under attack. This is not a drill.” Her voice echoed from the delay of the base’s outer speaker system and gave her warning an ethereal quality.
“Bring up the visuals,” Greer said with a wag of his finger.
Multiple panels lit up and filled the main monitor. Every single one of them depicted a mass horde of undead walkers storming the fence. Greer put the unlit cigar in his mouth and watched the nightmare unfold.
“There must be
hundreds of them,” Valentine gasped in horror as she watched a sea of bodies claw their way onto the next, unaware they were crushing their own under foot, until they formed a squirming wall of undead.
Like a slow rolling wave, one after anothe
r they toppled over the electrified fence, which sparked and hissed in defiance. Overpowered by the undead, suddenly a portion of the fence, unable to take the pressure, snapped and smashed into the ground with a static pop followed by a large crackle and a spray of sparks. This blew the base’s breaker and the fence went dead.
Inside the dark control room
, an orange and blue-tipped flame flicked on as Greer lit up his cigar. He looked up at the monitors flickering back to life as the backup generators turned on. It was just in time to see the first team engage the zombie horde. Gunfire mowed down several waves of bodies, but it did little good. Most of the monsters simply got back up, oblivious to the pain, and they just kept on pushing forward.
Out in the open, automatic gunfire rang out as the soldiers shared nervous glances as they felt the wall of undead tighten in on them. A grenade went off and a pile of bodies flew into the air and
pieces blew out every which way. But still, the march of the undead continued to press forward. More grenades started going off as soldiers resorted to more drastic measures and more powerful ammunition. But even the added firepower didn’t do much to deter the stampede of the mindless monsters. The bodies just got back up again, leaving their severed limbs behind as they relentlessly pushed on.
More soldiers arrived only to repeat the same old tune—gun
s, fire, grenades, explosions, screams of good men falling to the ravenous horde of undead. Like a plague of locusts, they ate anything that stood in their way.
“This is a
goddamn fucking nightmare,” said Greer puffing angrily on his cigar. “Issue the order for evacuation.”
Major Valentine stood up from her console and turned toward General Greer and shot him a reticent look.
“With all due respect, sir, shouldn’t we call in an airstrike before giving up entirely?”
“No,” grumbled General Greer. “Bigger bombs might put a larger dent in the horde, but it wouldn’t stop them.”
“But, sir—” Valentine protested.
General Greer eyed the major with a gaze of authority so unyielding it stopped her cold.
“And just how many good men and women are you willing to sacrifice to this cluster-fuck before those goddamn planes get here?”
“Sorry, sir. Right away, sir.”
Under her breath, Valentine chastised herself for her stupid mistake. “God-fucking-damn it Becky, just keep your fucking shit together.”
Taking a long drag on his cigar, General Greer turned back toward the monitors and watched as the monsters overtook the base’s perimeter. It was only a matter of time before they’d be pounding down his front door.
ALYSSA REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS IN THE brig of a military base. She rose up and looked around the Spartan-room. Nothing special, just your standard prison cell, but what did stand out was the biometric scanner which took both a finger print and an eye scan just to unlock the glass sliding door. The glass of the cell door was at least ten inches thick. Thick enough to stop a grenade. Certainly thick enough to keep anything from getting in or out. All of this was pretty state-of-the-art fancy, but disheartening none-the-less.
“Bugger,” she thought to herself. There was no way in hell she was going to
get out other than to have someone come and bust her out.
After
several minutes a soldier wearing green camo and a matching cap came into the room and brought her some food. It was a bowl of potato soup, a bread roll, and half a cob of boiled corn. It came with a small carton of milk, the kind she remembered getting as a school girl. Everything sat neatly on an aluminum tray. There was even a slice of complimentary butter wrapped in foil. She ate her dinner down greedily, and the guzzled straight out of the milk carton. Milk dripped down her chin as she took large thirsty gulps.
Sometime a
fter her meal the guard returned and took her tray. She called out, asked how long they’d be keeping her here, but it was like talking to a brick wall. He obviously was under orders not to fraternize with the prisoners. Instead he just took her tray and left the room.
The real question weighing on her mind was
why was she being held at all? She hadn’t done anything wrong. She wasn’t infected either. Could they be keeping her here for her own safety? Had something happened to Rachael?
A couple more hours passed. Alyssa sat in a cell bored out of her mind. She had kicked off her shoes and plopped down onto the small fold down cot and sat cross-legged. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why her great uncle Kip
had always wanted to keep getting thrown back into jail. There’s absolutely nothing to do behind bars except rot and slowly go insane, but before she could ponder the deeper meaning behind uncle Kip’s recidivism, the base’s alarm went off.
It was
an annoying digital tone which sounded like red alert on the Starship Enterprise. Aside from the alarm, Alyssa heard spurts of fully automatic gunfire coming from outside the compound. This was followed by pockets of silence followed by more sporadic spurts of firing.
She stood up and walked over to the glass walls, t
hen back to the cot. She didn’t know what was worse. The waiting around or the not knowing what the hell was going on out there.
Pacing the cell, Alyssa
began to understand what a caged animal must feel like. Poor things. Her mind wandered back to all the good animals she had lost at the kennel. Many of them, especially the strays, had become like adopted pets to her. She couldn’t bear the thought of their last few hours filled with nothing but horrible suffering, without getting choked up. She shook the thought out of her mind and paced the room some more.
Suddenly the door opened and a large naked black man followed by a naked white woman entered the cell. They carried a bundle of wadded up clothing in their arms. Before they could begin to get dressed they noticed a young brunette standing behind the plate glass looking at them with wide-eyed surprise.
She blushed at seeing two naked people burst into the room from out of nowhere.
“Oh shit!” exclaimed Noble. “Somebody is in here.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” said Jennifer in an annoyed tone. Bending over she slipped on her panties over the curve of her feminine hips. The waistband only partially covered up her blue butterfly tattoo. Pulling on her bra, Jennifer reached behind her back and clasped the hook. Addressing Alyssa, the woman said, “I am horribly sorry about all this.”
“Don’t talk to her, she’s a prisoner,” Noble said as he hopped up and down as he struggled to get on his pants.
“I’m not a prisoner!” Alyssa said defiantly. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Th
en why am I out here and you’re in there?” Noble asked.
“Don’t be
snarky,” Jennifer said with a polite laugh thrown on to help lighten the mood. “My name is Jennifer Hurley.” She nodded with her head toward the tall black man, “And this hunk of gorgeous man-meat is Sergeant Ulysses Noble.”
Noble finished synching his belt and fastened it
tight.
“Wait,” Alyssa began, looking past Jennifer and right at Noble. “I know you, somehow. Don’t I?”
“Sort of. I mean, we haven’t formally met. I pulled you out of the wreckage. You were in and out of consciousness. But don’t worry. The doc said it was only a concussion. You’ll live.”
“Thanks,” Alyssa said dryly as she watched him pull on his skin-tight black t-shirt
and tuck it into his camo pants.
Jennifer s
pun around and looked at Noble. “What wreck? You knew she was in here the whole time?” Getting pissed, Jennifer punched Noble in the arm. Flailing her tiny fists, his muscular arms easily absorbed her diminutive blows. “Then why the hell did you bring us in here to change?”
“Hey,” Noble said defensively, throwing up his arms as if he meant to surrender. “I knew she was here at the base. I thought she’d be in the infirmary, not in the brig. So sue me.”
Jennifer folded her arms and pouted.
“Excuse me,” Alyssa said, interrupting their lover’s quarrel. “I am sure your concerns are vital and everything, but I have bigger concerns, like why am I here? Where is my friend?”
“Friend?” Jennifer echoed as she walked over to the cell and pressed her hand against the glass wall between them, as if she was testing its strength. “You mean there is someone else here besides you?”
“Yeah, we were in the accident together.”
“I’m not cleared to talk about it,” said Noble as he finished buttoning up his uniform. “I’m sure someone will be here soon to debrief you and bring you up to speed. But I have to go check in for duty—before anyone gets suspicious.” Before taking his leave, Noble informally saluted and then he was gone.
Alyssa shrugged her shoulders and went over to her cot and sat down. Jennifer leaned up against th
e glass wall of the prison cell, and drawing imaginary lines on the glass with her maroon finger nails, asked, “Do you mind if I stay here and keep you company for a while? There’s no one back in the room I can talk to.”
Her thoughts flashed to Jesse Zanato, but she quickly rejected the idea of trying to carrying on a mature, adult conversation with him. All he cared about was getting back into her pants. She’d rather die than make that mistake over again. Fanning her hair to the side she added, “I mean, absolutely no one.”
“Fine by me,” Alyssa answered. “I could use some company. I’ve been trapped in here for several hours, it seems, and still nobody has come to explain what the hell is going on.”
From within the prison cell Alyssa Briggs and Jennifer Hurley heard the evacuation announcement given by Major Valentine. They listened in silence until it was over.
“That sounds bad,” Jennifer said bighting her bottom lip.
Stepping up to the glass wall, Alyssa looked into Jennifer’s light blue eyes, and begged, “You’ve got to get me out of here.”
“Okay,” Jennifer said putting her hand up to the glass. “I’ll go look for help. Just wait here, I’ll be back for you as soon as I can.” With that Jennifer ran off in search of help. Fifteen minutes later Alyssa began to worry she wasn't coming back.
Alyssa patiently waited in her cage, and then waited some more. She heard the whole thing go to hell outside. The chaotic eruption of fully automatic gunfire echoed through the halls. Every now and again she
heard a soldier scream in gut wrenching agony, followed more gun fire, then more screaming. Finally, the gunfire died out but the screaming continued. Terrible screams. Still, all she could do was listen to the death rattles of men and women and pray that somebody would get to her before those creatures did.
Unexpectedly, the main door flew open with a loud clank
as it slammed against the wall and an older gentleman limped into the room. He had a large cigar dangling out of his mouth. He was pushing sixty but looked quite handsome for his age. A hard-boiled George Clooney, she thought.
Hobbling up to the biometric lock, he placed his thumb on it and the door opened.
Alyssa stood barefoot in her cell. “Who are you?”
“I’m General—”
“
Rrahhh!
”
Suddenly an animal-like growl interrupted their conversation. General Greer pulled out his side arm and
spun back toward the door to see a walking corpse enter. A large slab of skin was hanging off of the corporal’s face. The peeled back skin revealed patches of white skull bone that shown through from underneath the thin strands of facial muscle. Even with its severe disfigurement, Greer still recognized it as one of his men. Clenching his jaw, the Greer cursed, “Goddammit Anderson.”
Corporal Anderson reached out with bloody appendages and lunged forward. Without hesitating the general put a bullet right into Corporal Anderson’s brainpan. The corporal
slammed to the floor with a concrete sounding thud.
“As I was saying,” the general
continued, turning back toward Alyssa, “I’m General Thompson Greer.”
“Are you responsible for this?” Alyssa said angrily, pointing at the floor of her cell.
The general gave a somewhat embarrassed look and holstered his weapon. “I apologize for keeping you here, but things kind of got,” he searched for the right words, “out of hand.”
“You think?!”
Reaching out his hand, he said, “Come along, we have to go now.”
Alyssa just gave him the evil eye, letting him know she wasn’t at all pleased with her treatment. Still pissed off, Alyssa stood steadfast in her cel
l out of protest. “I’m not leaving until I get some answers.”
“We don’t have time for a goddamn sit-in,
” implored the general, enticing her to hurry it along.
“Time? I’ve been trapped in here like a caged animal for what seems like ages, what is a few more minutes going to hurt?”
Moaning broke out in the hall, and the general turned to check the door, then looked straight into Alyssa’s eyes.
“I promise
you I'll bring you up to speed, but we have to go and we have to go
now
.”
“Let me grab my shoes on first.”
Alyssa turned around to pick up her sneakers, which she barely snatched up before the general clutched her wrist and towed her along behind him.
“Stay close to me,” informed Greer as he guided her to the door. Peeking around the corner he made sure the coast was clear. Taking a deep breath he raised his gun and boldly stepped out into the hall.
“Where’s my friend?” Alyssa asked.
“Hush up and pipe down,” snarled the general. “You don’t want to draw their attention to us.”
From around the corner two Walkers stepped forth growling and staggering toward them. Alyssa screamed from the suddenness of their blood curdling arrival. Both were the worse for wear. The first of the zombies was missing its entire scalp as well as both ears. A halo of blood from its bowl cut dripped down its hideous face.
The other one was missing the bottom
half of its jaw. Its face was even less of a face than the first one. A large bloody gash of meaty nasal cavity took the place of its nose and its teeth dangled in front with an ugly overbite. If these grotesque features weren’t bad enough, burn marks from whatever explosion had taken its face off charred its flesh and clothes. Alyssa felt like screaming again but clasped her hand over her mouth to stop herself.
“Never mind, it’s too late for that,” said Greer. “Baldy and extra-crispy here heard you the first time.”
Greer let go of Alyssa’s wrist and walked boldly down the hall to confront the creatures. As he went he smoothly and calmly raised his pistol. Gripping it tight with both hands he advanced with small steady steps, to better focus his aim. Greer shot twice and dropped both monsters with a couple of precision head shots. Baldy was still writhing at his feet when he reached it, so he put another one through its white capped dome just to be sure.
Alyssa began to approach the
middle of the T-junction where Greer stood nudging the thing with his foot, but he raised his hand and stopped her. She couldn’t see what was down the other hallway, but the general fired the remainder of his clip. Emptied out, the general let the empty cartridge fall to the floor and quickly slapped in a new one. He continued firing of round after round. The muzzle flashes lit up the wall at the end of the darkened hall so that Alyssa could see the swarm of bent and twisted shadowy shapes creeping upon it.
F
iring away at will, Greer pushed his way down the hallway until he was out of sight. That’s when Alyssa felt the hands wrap around her mouth pull her from behind and the thing dragged her into the darkness.
The barrel of Greer’s gun smoked as the last of the spent shells tinkled onto the
floor. “Hoo-fucking-rah!” he said proudly. Turning back toward where Alyssa was, he began, “Bet you didn’t think an old timer like me could…” General Greer’s voice trailed off as he looked up to see only an empty hallway. “Goddammit!”