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October 31st, 2016, 05:36 PM
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THE MOON HAS WINGS - a zombie story
 INTRODUCTION Welcome to The Moon Has Wings, the long awaited full-length Zombie Story brought to you by TheAverageFan. I've been wanting to do a larger Non-Competition Story for quite some time and have been developing The Moon Has Wings for even longer. So here it finally is. In case you don't know, The Moon Has Wings is a Zombie Story that has nothing whatsoever to do with Heroscape. Anyone expecting a Heroscape story out of this will be sad and disappointed. Check out TAF's other stories for Heroscape-related stuff (shameless plug, check). Naturally most zombie stories are a dime a dozen, these days. I'll confess that I actually haven't seen a lot of the zombie media out there. So while I tried my best to stay as original as possible, I apologize if there are any similarities between Moon Has Wings and other zombie tales, be it in plot points, characters, themes, etc. I'm sure there's bound to be plenty. Scènes à faire and all that, yes. At any rate, enjoy! I highly encourage any comments and feedback—it's how I can tell people are reading this drivel. I’d also personally recommend you listen to music while you read The Moon Has Wings. It’ll improve the experience and all that. TAF's personal recommendation of the day is Animus Vox by The Glitch Mob. _____________________________________________________________________
CURRENT DETAILS As of Chapter 25 Quote:
Spoiler Alert!
Protagonists: (The Group) -Thomas -Brooke -Cpl. Thorn -Sgt. Header -Lt. Moore (Killed by Zombie) -Stacey -Jaxson -Cecil (Killed by Zombie) -George (Killed by Zombie) -Wendy (Killed by Silvin) -David (Killed by Zombie) -Gene -Reed -Shelley (Killed by Zombie) -Stanley (Killed by Zombie) Others: -Nazar -Lavender -Comm. Grimm -General Tandom -Miles -Abbey -Montag -Lynn -Louis -Guy -Mr. Collis -Dr. Brett -Dr. Lance -Mr. Gondowl Antagonists: (Apostle) -Elias -Silvin -Professor Joetex (Killed by Self) -Dr. Ruxus (Killed by Silvin) -Adib -The Bloodletter (For future reference, those killed because they are infected are still counted as "Killed by Zombie") Character Entries:
Spoiler Alert!
Protagonists:
Spoiler Alert!
Thomas Santeri: Age 25. Thomas has held an interest in the performing arts nearly his entire life. A semi-accomplished actor, Thomas has a good memory and excellent improvisational skills. He calls his scathing pessimism realism and is a skeptic with a checkered past. Gets the least sleep.
Brooke Arnakis: Age 24. A gifted young musician, Brooke had been travelling with friends when the outbreak threw everything into chaos. A stubborn optimist, Brooke refuses to let tough times get to her and prides herself on keeping morale high when the apocalypse often keeps it so low. Whether that makes her an inspiration or a moron is up to interpretation. Got the highest grades in school. Cpl. Christian Thorn: Age 26. A special forces officer with a strong bond with Sgt. Header. Thorn is friendly and generally good natured, a patriotic idealist. He has a complicated past with famed terrorist Alex Silvin and doesn’t like to talk about his life before joining the military. Always the cleanest shaven. Sgt. Brysen Header: Age 41. A seasoned veteran and good friend to Cpl. Thorn. Header has been on tour more times than he can count. He rarely shows emotion and focuses on doing his job above all else. An excellent shot and a pragmatic soldier, he is a good ally to have in such dire times. He smokes heavily. Uses the most apostrophes while talking. Lt. Zed Moore: Age 34. A high-ranking officer and leader of the squad, Moore is a capable soldier. He is good with numbers and thinks quickly and effectively even while under gunfire. Some call him “the buff nerd”. He is respected by everyone on the team but is less of a superhero when off the job. Has the most trouble talking to girls. Stacey Baker: Age 19. Stacey is a self-proclaimed “just a normal gal” who never goes anywhere without her red baseball cap. Typically bubbly and spontaneous, Stacey is endearing to some and annoying to others. She likes sleeping a lot more than she likes mornings. Stacey doesn’t like to be touched and suffers from numerous phobias. The most crazy about sports. Jaxson Caunders: Age 23. A track and field athlete still in college. Jaxson has had a hard life and has spent years trying to get his way to the top. Now all that work is gone. Jaxson feels like his life lacks purpose, but he intends to stay alive until he can find one. He always puts others before himself, even under extremely dangerous circumstances. Thinks the most before speaking. Cecil Servero: Age 27. A graphic designer who leads his own group of survivors. Cecil and his friend George worked together previous to the apocalypse and now work together to survive in it. Level-headed and methodical, he is a fine leader and hardly a liability. He loves tennis and volleyball but is a bit ashamed to admit it. The slowest to anger. George Fletcher: Age 30. An airline technician who became a carpenter when he couldn’t find work. He met Cecil while doing a job and the two stuck together when the outbreak started. George is generally a man of short sentences and no prose. He hates being called names and has a short fuse, but he never takes his anger out on those who didn’t incite it. Has the hardest swing. Wendy MacMillan: Age 27. A woman who tends to keep her thoughts to herself. She joined Cecil’s group with nothing but a knife and few words for her past. Whether or not she used to be more talkative before the outbreak is up to debate. Blinks the most often. David Escoman: Age 35. An accountant out on business when the outbreak struck. David is easily stressed, the recent events not helping. He is very direct and doesn’t like wasting time, a man of schedules. David is generally distrustful of others, and not without reason. He hates surprise birthday parties more than anyone. The biggest critic. Gene Lembeck: Age 31. A dazed mess of a man, Gene is always a few steps behind what’s going on. His new wife left him for dead when the outbreak reached his neighborhood. Gene is a little slow sometimes but his heart is always in the right place and he wouldn’t hurt a soul. He prefaces most of his sentences with “Well…” and has no idea he does it. Has the best luck. Reed Tandom: Age 26. A classic rogue and rebel. Reed has been surviving the apocalypse solo after his companions tried to rob him. As such he is naturally paranoid and distrustful of everyone in such times, except for girls. He has a harmonica he can’t play and his first car was a motorcycle he couldn’t ride. Has a massive complex over his disdain of his father, General Tandom. Looks the best at their worst. Shelley Masten: Age 39. Stanley’s wife. Shelley enjoys little more than peace, security, and quiet pastimes. Because of this she frequently worries that she comes across as boring to others. She reads more books in a year than most do in a lifetime. Despite being a mostly homely person, Shelley has a surprising knack for survival in a pinch. Her favorite food is just soup. The most severely left-handed. Stanley Masten: Age 42. Shelley’s husband. Stanley’s a sucker for the quiet life, content with a well-paying stay-at-home job, a stay-at-home wife, and enough books to last two lifetimes between them. His position has given him a touch of a gentle superiority complex when it comes to strangers, one that he probably isn’t even aware of. He has unusually hairy arms. Has the biggest vocabulary. Others:
Spoiler Alert!
Nazar: A man of unknowable motives and methods, Nazar is the head of VACC, an organization dedicated to stopping the zombie apocalypse. For some reason the undead completely ignore him. If he knows how or why he certainly doesn’t seem to feel like sharing that information. Has the most secrets.
Lavender: Nazar’s trusted assistant, Lavender follows him just about everywhere and does anything he asks of her. She was a state-sponsored career hacker before Nazar recruited her to his cause. A woman of few words, Lavender rarely helps shine any light on Nazar’s mysterious motives. The most reserved. General Tandom: Age 56. Tandom is one of the U.S.’s most trusted generals, placed in charge of handling the zombie outbreak in the Midwest and Western States. He is an able commander and knows his troops better than he knows his own family. As much of an avid patriot as you’d expect, the General will do anything and everything in his power to ensure that his country survives the apocalypse. Has taken the fewest days off. Commander Grimm: Age 63. One of the highest ranking members of the United States military, off the books. Commander Grimm has handled countless situations that citizens across the globe have had the luxury of never finding out about. He is frequently an asshole, but Grimm’s intellect and discipline are still an inspiration to those below his command. He loves liquor and winning. The hardest to tell when he’s joking. Abbey Zellion: Age 31. A woman who recently became a mother and lost her husband to the zombies. Abbey is quiet and reserved, often only speaking up when no one else will. Worrying about others keeps her up late at night. The apocalypse has been especially hard on Abbey, reviving bouts of depression that have plagued her in the past. Has the deepest eyes. Miles Sindall: Age 24. Another of Cecil’s group, Miles is just normal. He tends to add to conversations rather than start them, typically more on the quiet side. He’s not great friends with anyone but doesn’t hate anyone either. A very neutral fellow, not apathetic or detached, just not terribly opinionated. Any further complexities to his personality he keeps to himself. The least picky eater. Montag Smith: Age 32. A failing author, Montag Smith didn’t lose much with the downfall of society. Simple and kind, Montag no longer seeks fame with his works but friends. A few close ones mean a lot more than thousands of faceless admirers. Montag doesn’t like to travel and refuses to leave VACC, overseeing the other civilians there. Hates hot weather the most. Lynn Perpeno: Age 33. Lynn is a firefighter retired due to injury. She helped every soul she met alongside other authorities during the outbreak before being directed to the VACC facility as thanks. She has unbreakable spirit and is a good shoulder to lean on. The least likely to get sick. Louis Detchin: Age 26. A sharp young man with a lot of charm and wit, Louis Detchin is a career artist and activist. He believes that the zombie virus might in part be Nature’s answer to Man’s destructive ways. He is an excellent debater and can talk most women’s pants right off. Being constantly cooped up underground gets under his skin at times. The most likely to bring politics into a conversation. Guy Forfend: Age 28. Guy almost tries to pride himself on being as uninteresting as possible. Having a winning personality makes little difference in these times. A consistent underachiever and underdog, he was forced through quite a bit in his effort to endure the zombie apocalypse. He absolutely needs hobbies and games to make the hours go by. The worst consoler. Peyton Collis: Age 65. Founder of the highly successful Collis Corporation. Peyton Collis is a man who tries way too hard to never let his wealth go to his head or heart. He has a nonjudgmental and understanding attitude that makes him easy to talk to. He has a strong aversion to alcohol and hates anything pretentious in nature. The easiest way to irk him is to never sit up straight. The best public speaker. Dr. Lance Zakarian: Age 30. One of VACC’s scientists tasked with cracking the zombie virus. He believes that the virus may have roots in the supernatural. Dr. Lance often likes to stoke up friendly debates with those around them, finding that discussing differing opinions and playing devil’s advocate is the best way to really get to know people. He hates spices and condiments in general. Takes the most alcohol to get drunk. Dr. Brett Helfer: Age 30. One of VACC’s scientists determined to get to the bottom of the outbreak. He believes the zombie virus may have been entirely manmade from scratch. Dr. Brett is stubborn as a mule: it takes a lot for him to call it quits but when he does he quits hard. He almost constantly taps his foot while seated. Can stay up the latest. M. Gondowl: Age 61. Nazar’s personal driver. That’s about all there is to say about him. He has a strong English accent and like Lavender does whatever his boss asks of him. He never lets any of his personal life show while on the job, and as such comes across as very dull conversationally. The least likely to break eye contact. Antagonists:
Spoiler Alert!
Alex Silvin: A renowned terrorist and one of the most vile people alive, Alex Silvin lives only to cause misery and become famous from it. His acts lack monetary, political, or religious motivation. Silvin has clashed with Cpl. Thorn countless times and the two despise each other. He can speak at least five languages and loves Opera. Has seen the most films.
Harold Joetex: One of Apostle’s top scientists, Joetex was one of the organization’s founders as well as the designer behind many of the vile creations within the labs. Joetex was fed up with the dilemmas of ethics holding much of the scientific community back and went to Apostle to continue his work in genetics as he pleased, experimenting on live human subjects. The most self-loathing. Albrecht Ruxus: A highly accomplished scientist-turned-terrorist. Ruxus returned after he mysteriously vanished for years, now seemingly resolved to start a nuclear war. He might not be a master criminal, but his intellect and top-tier connections make him a danger to the world. Some call him a classic mad scientist. Can rant the longest. Adib: At one point the leader of a small and mostly unknown terrorist group, Adib is Alex Silvin’s current right-hand man. He supplies Silvin with many of the men and weapons he needs and works closely with him, as they have the same goals of destabilization. However they do have disagreements concerning the motives of their work. The best horse rider. The Bloodletter: A horrific monster, the Bloodletter is a beast of countless tentacles, all holding sharp objects. Despite being genetically altered to such a state, it retains its sentience from its time as a human, just not its memories. Instinctually it desires nothing more than shedding blood, but the Bloodletter also enjoys the thrill of hunting prey, and has made a sport out of its violent work. The best juggler. Enemy Journal:
Spoiler Alert!
Intro:
Spoiler Alert!
 ____My name is Henry Williamson. I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe. Ever since everything went to hell I’ve been wandering the countryside, hopping between groups of survivors and stumbling across all sorts of mad wonders. ____I’m looking for a man named Adam. We were separated when all this began, and I haven’t a clue where he went. It’s like he just disappeared… Maybe he’s dead… maybe you went somewhere… ____The dead walk the Earth, strange visions assault my senses, and I’ve come across things I feel like I was never destined to witness. I’m just looking for Adam. All this feels so much bigger than me… ____I don’t know what my place in all this is. There’s not much I can do. At the very least, I figure I can chronicle what I come across, so that anyone who finds these notes may be better prepared. I’ve seen all manners of strange and terrifying monsters, human or otherwise. I’m no artist, but… I feel like I’ve got to do something. Maybe if the information about these creatures I jot down can save even a single person, it’ll have been for something. Anything. ____When chaos overcomes the world, men search for meaning to validate their lives. Perhaps that’s all this is, an effort to give my life some gravity. That’s something I’ll never know until I’m dead. Zombie:
Spoiler Alert!
 ____Zombies: The undead. Simple as that. I never thought something like this would actually happen, but here I am. Absolute madness. ____As morbidly as I can put this in a casual way, they’re what you’d expect. Rotting flesh, glassy eyes, a ravenous taste for the living. I’ve noticed over my travels that they seem to decay fairly quickly, turning grey and wrinkly faster than you’d expect. Their hair seems to fall out easily as well. ____Shooting for the brain is the most effective way to take them down. That’s no different than humans, I suppose, but for zombies it’s more of a necessity because they don’t seem to feel pain. So non-lethal shots won’t incapacitate them easily. Burning them and shooting them into ground beef does the trick as well. A good shotgun blast will suffice. As long as they’re incapable of carrying on. I’ve seen some get sheared in half and still come crawling. So shoot for the brain or just keep shooting until they stop moving. I don’t have a ton of ammo to spare of course, so I’ll need to learn to be a better shot if I’m to survive this long enough to find Adam. ____Some look more decrypt than others. I’m also not sure how fast one turns when bitten. I’ve seen some people become zombies in less than a minute while others took several days before the virus got to them. Some walk, some run. I’ve also noticed that some zombies have a faint glow to their eyes as well. Strange and eerie. I don’t know what determines that. Most strangely of all, I’ve heard rumors that right before a zombie bites you it’ll whisper your name. But I’m not particularly interested in putting that myth to the test. ____These things are everywhere. They’re unpredictable. And no matter where I hide out they always seem to know where the living are, slowly following me wherever I go. I’ve got to stay on the move. I’ve got to find Adam. Initiated:
Spoiler Alert!
 ____Initiated: AKA “Twitchy”: Unnaturally fast zombies. They never seem to sit still, constantly twitching freakishly. Some zombies walk while others run, and I’ve seen some pretty fast runners, but nothing compared to an Initiated. You’ll never outrun one on foot, I’ve seen more than enough people prove that point. ____ Their eyes also have a strange glow to them. It all seems supernatural—there’s no way for human muscles to move the way they do. Given their movements, this might be one zombie that’s better to take on with a melee weapon over a firearm, given how extremely difficult it is to hit one from a distance. ____ I’ve never seen an Initiated indoors. Maybe that’s a good thing given how fast they could close the distance in a cramped space. Knowing the undead’s uncanny ability to track down the living, it’s a sure sign that staying put out in the country is a bad idea with packs of these things on the loose. Not that the overpopulated cities are much safer. ____ I don’t know what exactly makes a zombie an Initiated. I’ve heard that people with cruel hearts turn into Initiated when bitten. Some rumors claim that it’s a more advanced version of the virus, or that regular zombies turn into Initiated over time. The most common theory I’ve heard is that anyone infected when the winged moon is full becomes an Initiated. That might be why they’re so often found in groups. ____ Speaking of which, I’ve decided to stick with a band of survivors out here in the middle of nowhere. A pack of Initiated narrowed down my last company to just a handful, so we joined up with another group to cover losses. With these zombie freaks roaming the land, the last thing I want to do is face down a group of Initiated understaffed. I keep my revolver to myself—these circumstances make savages out of many folks—but the zombies are the bigger problem. Staying alive is the only way I’ll find Adam. Right? Doorman:
Spoiler Alert!
 ____Doorman: Some sort of freakishly lanky lab-grown monster. No belly button or genitals, and absurdly large teeth and hands and ridiculously long limbs. I genuinely don’t know if those bit by one turn into zombies. They’re so rent apart by those fangs and claws that I doubt they could reanimate. Abominations of genetics. ____ What were the people in this lab doing? The containers I found them in were labeled “Doorman”. Are these failed experiments or were they purposefully trying to make lab monsters? It was a mistake coming here. I should’ve stayed with the other half of the team. ____ An escaped one rushed my group. It tore two of my friends apart and bit our leader before finally going down. I need a higher caliber gun. And a new group of friends. ____ Fortunately it seems these creatures are rare outside of these laboratories. I’ve only come across a couple out in the country. I was wondering where they were coming from. I guess now I know. Better to shoot them dead on sight than run, those lanky legs of theirs sure can sprint. I’ve been low on food for a while now, but I was hoping I could at least stockpile ammo by avoiding zombies. Between being forced to stand and fight against both Initiated and Doormen, I’m running out of bullets fast. ____ I don’t know what this “Apostle” organization is, but it seems like they’re behind the outbreak, or at least connected to it. It’s a terrifying thought knowing that this place was readying the apocalypse right under our noses, not terribly far from where I live. Only now that it’s too late do I stumble into this place. Why am I here? What’s really going on? ____ Adam… did you come here? Where are you? ____ I know my husband is more than likely dead. I know the farther away from town I get the smaller the chances of me finding him. But where did he go that day he left? Just one day before the outbreak? Could he have known? ____ No, no… too late for doubting now. I know he’s out there. I’ve got to find him. He needs me. Stories:
Spoiler Alert!
Thorn's Story: (Added After Ch. 7)
Spoiler Alert!
Thorn’s Story Sweat Or Tears ____ Dress shirts always felt especially stuffy on hot Summer afternoons. That was the most distinct memory Thorn had of that day. He tugged at his shirt collar repeatedly to cool off while he stood there at the street corner. He was chubbier back then and didn’t shave so religiously, a big bushy golden beard decorating his chin. Neither of these helped his heated condition, let alone the nerves of this being his first job. ____ He was still in college and was working Security for a city parade or festival or whatever it was—he didn’t keep up with these things. He was hoping for a job that required more sitting down and looking at computer screens, but work was work and anything to help his resume would do. This live outside work wasn’t quite the same. People swarmed the streets left and right, their causal chatter like a roaring wave of collective noise. Thorn did a radio check and continued standing there, watching. People were here to have fun, he was there to work, to make sure nothing went wrong. ____ His radio fizzled to life, a static-covered voice calling his name, “Radio check, Christian. How’re things looking over there?” ____ It was Ben, the one who hired him for this gig. Tall guy, glasses, a better friend than he deserved. Thorn pinched the radio and replied, “Everything looks good, I think. …Over?” ____ “Right. Just, uh, yeah. Stay in touch.” ____ “Ben?” Thorn asked, “All I gotta do is stand here, right? And keep an eye out?” ____ “Pretty much, man. That and help people find the bathroom. Easy peasy.” ____ “Alright thanks. Over and out.” ____ Thorn released the radio and breathed heavily, continuing to tug at his collar to air out. In spite of the simplicity of his job, the large crowds still made him nervous. It was a lot to keep track of. Nothing but nerves, probably, he should just relax. Thorn took a deep breath. People were here to enjoy themselves. That was good. Thorn just smiled and waved at people who looked at him. ____ “Hey hey!” A man he waved at strode over, speaking to Thorn directly and loudly. He was a pale, lanky guy around the same age as Thorn. Sunglasses shone in the heavy light, hiding his eyes, but his toothy grin expressed what his gaze didn’t. ____ “Uh… hey?” Thorn replied, unsure if he was supposed to recognize this character. He always dreaded the idea of forgetting about someone who hadn’t forgotten him. ____ The man walked over, holding his arms out and looking around the place, “Some festivities, huh? People need to get outside more, yeah? Thanks for making all this possible!” ____ So it was a stranger. Thorn eased up a bit, allowing himself to lower his guard. There were plenty of other Security Officers on this block anyway. He managed a slight smile, “Uh, yeah. No problem.” ____ “Right, right,” The man nodded, “Yeah, I’m glad the city organized this event. Anyway, mind if I take a pic? Is there some rule against that?” The man took out a phone and held it up. ____ “Oh, no. Go ahead.” Thorn replied. ____ “Cool. Cheers.” The man leaned next to him, adjusting his sunglasses lower to show his eyes and grinning. With a quick click he took a selfie, moving his glasses back up and examining the picture, “Great, thanks a lot! I’m blogging this whole event, right? This’ll look great. Listen, have you seen Taxi Driver?” ____ “What?” Thorn asked, “No, I don’t think so.” ____ “Too bad. Neat little flick. De Niro’s great. Well, see ya around!” ____ With that he took off, nearly walking into a little girl skipping her way through the street, white balloon animal in hand—too clumsily made to tell what animal. She bumped into his leg and backed off, immediately tugging at his hand with an anxious urgency. ____ “Huh, what?” The man leaned down and listened for a second, getting back up right after and waving at Thorn, “Yo, security guy! This kid says she lost her parents. You guys help with that sort of thing, right?” ____ Thorn hurried over, “Right. Sorry. C’mere, let’s find your folks.” ____ He took the girl’s hand and led her out into the crowded street. People were everywhere. He wasn’t sure where to begin. ____ “Ben?” He tuned into his radio. ____ “Yeah?” Came the short reply. ____ “Found a kid. Lost parents. Should I take her to you?” ____ “Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll get the supervisor.” ____ Thorn headed back, the little girl tugging at his hand as he walked. He waded his way through the crowded street and glanced around, the child’s sharp cry catching his attention. ____ “There! There!” She shouted, pointing to a man and woman standing by one of the stands lining the road. ____ “Oh, right. There you go, kid.” Thorn replied, glancing at them. He smirked. They didn’t look like they’d even noticed she was gone. Regardless, it didn’t matter now. He let go of her hand, “Okay. Don’t run off, okay?” ____ “Thanks mister!” The kid squeaked and instantly took off towards her family. ____ Thorn smiled, glad to be of some use. He pinched the radio on his shoulder again, “Nevermind that, Ben. Situation’s resolved, going back to post—” ____ BOOM!!! A massive explosion cut him off, a giant blast erupting from one of the stands right by the girl’s family. It cracked the air and threw Thorn down to the concrete, ears ringing like church bells had struck his eardrums. A pillar of gray smoke threw itself out around the shattered stand, floating up into the air and leaving scores of people in its wake. ____ Panicked screams slowly faded into audibility as Thorn’s hearing returned, the guard sluggishly sitting up and looking around. People ran all about the street in a mad frenzy, countless others littering the ground and not getting back up. ____ He himself was still dazed, everything a blur. Trying to register what had just happened. Explosion. Shockwave. Gray smoke, unglamorous, shattering. Blood everywhere. ____ No! Thorn struggled to his feet and raced over to where the blast had occurred, fighting his way through the fleeing terrorized. He spotted the little girl, sprawled out on the pavement, and rushed to her side. ____ She was alive but not for long. Half of her clothes were already drenched in red, the girl merely laying there, staring off into space. The balloon animal was not just popped but torn asunder beside her. Her chest continually heaved up and down, her breaths coming only in halves as if she were choking. ____ “No, no…” Thorn eyed her with dread, completely at a loss as to what to do. He reached his shaking hands down to pick her up. No! Don’t move her! That’s what you were supposed to do, right? He didn’t know. What was he supposed to do? Thorn glanced left and right, looking for answers but finding none. He was supposed to be in charge here. Sweat dripped from his face as he was thrashed by panicked hesitancy. ____ The little girl’s expressionless eyes drifted up towards him, Thorn looking back down at her and wishing his gaze could offer her more than hopelessness. ____ “What do I do?” He sputtered, glancing back and forth, still aimlessly looking for directions, “What do I do?” ____ Finally the child simply stopped choking, becoming still. Thorn shakily got back up, instantly ducking back down at the thunderous booming of a second explosion, this one even larger than the first. More screams could be heard further down the street, soon followed by the faint ringing of sirens. ____ Thorn stumbled around the street, lost in a wide-eyed panic. The chaos continued around him, but all he could hear was that ringing. It persisted the entire walk down the street. ____ Three days later. ____ Thorn sat alone in his darkened apartment, shades drawn on all the windows and only one light on. He sighed before clumsily holding the glass to his lips, letting the last of the liquor within trickle into his throat. He set the glass aside and leaned forward in his seat, rubbing his eyes. He was drinking himself to death and all he wanted to do was sober up. No, he wanted to wake up. ____ After the smoke had cleared the police had arrived. As the shock wore off then came the sympathy. After the sympathy came the questions. Thorn had shook his head more times than he could remember. He wasn’t physically injured. He had no idea what was going on. He just needed to go home. ____ The news played on the TV at the far end of the room. It’d been on since he got home, but he avoided eye contact with the screen. The high-pitched voice of the news lady on there harassed his ears all that time, droning on and on about the bombs. The worst was yet to come: ____ “Police continue to search for renowned terrorist Alex Silvin, who has recently claimed responsibility for the attacks.” She had announced, “A photo surfaced on Twitter this morning picturing Silvin at the festival alongside one of the security staff.” ____ That selfie picture illuminated the screen, Thorn smiling dumbly next to that man. Under those sunglasses were smirking, knowing eyes. Thorn only felt more sick staring at it, displayed on the TV for all to see. He wished he was dead. ____ “Authorities are still investigating how Silvin managed to get the bombs past security. The chief of police had ‘no comments’ on the issue. With me here is retired counterterrorist expert Dean Smitt. Dean, perhaps you could offer some insight into this tragedy and how it might’ve been stopped.” ____ “Well Helen, the silence from the investigators is deafening. We’re talking a major oversight here on an unprecedented level. You don’t just walk in to an event like this with IEDs—especially of this size—pull off an attack like this, and then just drop off the grid. I would think at best this is a serious case of negligence on the behalf of the security or, judging from the picture we see online, perhaps even assistance from an insider. Speculation, of course.” ____ “Of course. We’ll keep you up to date for any new developments.” ____ Questions flooded his address, social media accounts, and email soon afterwards. ____ How could you not recognize one of the most wanted men in the world!? ____ I demand repercussions! Someone has to pay! ____ Because of you my brother is dead! ____ How are you not in jail because of this? ____ I don’t buy the police accounts. We both know you’re guilty. ____ If I ever see your face on the street… ____ If you had any decency whatsoever you’d kill yourself. ____ On the fifth day Thorn ran out of alcohol. He was afraid to go outside, afraid of the death threats. No, he didn’t fear death, he would welcome it. What he truly feared was not dying, having to go around living looking people in the face. Dread was worse than death. He’d gladly die before he had to go back out into that world again. ____ Thorn walked by his kitchen table, dragging a chair out into the middle of the cramped apartment room. The chair legs made an irksome scraping sound on the floor, irritating noise doubling up with the TV still on in the corner: ____ “Frankly the most worrisome thing is the sheer confidence expressed by Silvin. This is the second attack this year and we still don’t have this guy. The fact that he was walking around in public and went unnoticed is a disgrace to our national security. He’s laughing at us. And you can rest assured that if he was able to get back into the country this easily he’ll slip out uncaught too. ____ What people want more than anything right now is assurance. And I don’t think our current administration is capable of giving it to them. We’ve been reading horror stories about this guy for almost two years by now. Why haven’t we caught him yet? It’s a joke! Look at this picture: it’s a complete joke to him!” ____ Thorn walked into his bedroom and opened his closet, sorting through it. As soon as he pulled out a belt the phone rang, Thorn sighing and answering, “Hello?” ____ “Christian? It’s Ben.” The unmistakable low voice replied, “How are you?” ____ “How do you think I am?” ____ “Listen, I saw the picture on the news the other day. I just wanted to let you know that you’re okay. You’ve been cleared. You’re innocent.” ____ Thorn scoffed, “It doesn’t matter what the police think. Everyone’s already made up their minds about me.” ____ “Forget about them. Who cares what they think?” ____ “I care.” Thorn sat down on the bed, staring at himself in the mirror across from him, “What am I supposed to do? This will never go away. I don’t deserve it to go away.” ____ Ben sighed, “Don’t talk like that.” ____ “How many people, Ben? How many?” ____ No reply. Thorn rubbed his eyes. Why couldn’t he just wake up from all this? ____ “I’m not dead but my life is over.” He continued, “And that’s the most selfish way I can put it. People are dead because of me.” ____ “No.” Ben refuted, “They’re dead because of him. It’s his fault, and his alone. Despair is what he wants, Christian. He feeds off hopelessness.” ____ This time Thorn didn’t reply. ____ “Are you going to give it to him?” ____ “Thanks, Ben, and I’m sorry.” Thorn replied, “But I have to go.” ____ He hung up, continuing to stare at himself in the mirror, pondering for a long, long time. He hated the man he saw on the other side. An awkward, nervous, blithering idiot who let people down and couldn’t decide on anything. Silvin had played that idiocy for all it was worth and left that man to take the brunt of the public’s rage. ____ Thorn hated the man in the mirror, but he hated Silvin more. And he was still out there, making a mockery of everyone with the mere fact that he was still free. What could Thorn do about that? Get knocked down and stay down? Merely get out of the way for the people who knew what they were doing to handle the situation? No, both men needed to die. ____ Finally Thorn rose up and briskly walked out of his bedroom and into the bathroom. He snatched up an underused razor and immediately began to run hot water in the faucet. Applying cream soon after, Thorn quickly yet methodically shaved every hair from his fat face. He ignored any minor amateurish cuts and kept at it until not a single strand remained. It wasn’t enough. He set his razor down and took a pair of scissors, snipping his lengthy hair indiscriminately until it was nice and short, albeit messy. ____ You, he thought, pointing to himself in the bathroom mirror, Christian Thorn is dead. You’re a new man. A bold man. A man who doesn’t let people down. A man who stands for everything Silvin is against. ____ Walking back out Thorn noticed the kitchen chair still sitting in the middle of the apartment room, awkwardly sticking out. He walked over to it and stared up. There was a single wooden beam hanging low in the arched ceiling, directly above the seat. ____ Thorn got on the chair and stood up straight, reaching up and touching the beam. He closed his eyes. Whenever he did, all he could see was that bloody street, the emotionless gray smoke, the remnants of the people he was supposed to keep safe. ____ Opening his eyes and jumping up, Thorn grasped the beam in both hands and began pulling himself up until his chin was over it. He was flabby and weak, but the drive was stronger than the lack of muscles. He did it again and again. ____ That chair remained in the center of that apartment. It was his chin-up chair. ____ Thorn’s body did not want to change. Gravity bore down upon him in each lap. Sweat made it hard to see, hard to think. And he was always sweating at boot camp. ____ Give up, his senses kept shrieking at him, give up. His CO agreed. ____ “Yer gonna be the first to go, piggy! All you gotta do is ring that bell and you’re free to go! Give up, piggy!” He screamed at Thorn as he struggled to push himself off the wet filthy ground. Thorn’s arms were shaking violently under the stress. It felt like they would just fall off. At home he had trained until exhausted and stopped. Here the pushups continued, whether he was broken or not. Thorn stared at the mud ahead of him, struggling to breathe. Just give up. ____ “Argh!” He collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath and shutting his eyes tight. ____ He had lost count of the times his resolve had wavered and fell apart. Apathy mounted an endless siege upon him at all hours of the day. ____ “Heh.” His drill sergeant sneered, “And there it is. Get up or get packing! What’s it gonna be, piggy? Sweat or tears?” ____ But whenever he’d close his eyes, he’d see that bloody street and remember why. Thorn opened his eyes, sucked up the exhaustion, and leapt back to his arms. ____ “Sweat.” He said, “Front row seat.” ____ “So you’re the new kid, eh? I hope you’re as good in the field as you are promising in your file.” Thorn’s new Sergeant skimmed through some papers. ____ “As good as you need me to be, sir.” ____ “That’ll be the max, Private. Welcome to the Marine Corps Special Forces. I’m Sergeant Brysen Header. I hear you’ve got a bone to pick with a certain terrorist?” ____ “Alex Silvin, sir. A couple bones.” ____ “Good. You’ll be extra invested. We’re going to be working joint operations with counterterrorist units. How’s your French?” ____ “Bueno.” ____ “Ha! I like ya already. Follow me. You’ll get more details at the briefing.” ____ “Breach!” Header aimed his AA-12 at the door and in a quick flurry of blasts freed it of its hinges. ____ Thorn slipped his shades on and threw a flashbang at the wall, letting it ricochet into the room. Bam!! A wave of light blasted through the door, Thorn raising his M4A1 and rushing into the room. ____ The first two men he saw had Uzis. He aimed his rifle and shot them dead immediately. Behind him entered Raizen and Jones, riot shields at the ready. Another man cowered from the light in the center of the room near a large cubical device. Raizen immediately knocked him down and subdued him. ____ Thorn trained his weapon on the last man as he recovered from the flash. He stumbled about for a second before recollecting himself, turning and aiming a pistol at a phone on a table in the corner of the room. Thorn quickly zeroed in on his head and fired. Bang! Bang! ____ “Clear!” He announced, lowering his rifle and scanning the room. Raizen had secured a target, Jones was disarming the device, and he had just spared some intel. He managed a grim smile. I’m onto you, Silvin. And I’m not gonna stop. Joetex's Story: (added after Ch. 25)
Spoiler Alert!
Joetex’s Story New Children ____ Countless folders crammed full of papers clacked coldly in unison against hard desks. Professor Harold Joetex knew these people well, but they never became any less distant with each visit. He was old—he could even remember when most of these people were appointed. Hell, he could remember when the board was introduced in the first place. He hated them then too. Science and walls never mixed well. Nothing gets through blockades. ____ The central figure adjusted his glasses and leaned over to switch on a single recording device, “The Board of Ethics has reviewed Professor Harold Joetex’s newest proposal. Project Synthesis (working title)—December 14th, 3:17 P.M.” ____ He cleared his throat a few times, creating an awkward silence in its wake. ____ “Well, get on with it.” Joetex prompted, not wanting to waste any more time here. ____ “Right. Board Director of Human and Animal Concerns: Dr. Levrie, if you would.” ____ Woman, far left of table, also adjusted her glasses, “Human concerns are out. All surveyed rejected the Project’s proposals on the grounds of dangers proposed. The Project does not apply to dead subjects, so those are automatically out. Concerned backers for animal rights are out due to risks imposed. Those surveyed find the Project more disconcerting than useful.” ____ The man nodded and sipped some water, “Thank you. Dr. Fasser, if you would.” ____ So many Doctors. That was rich. None of these people were doctors, just cysts: representatives of concerned parties. ____ The next man over: “Thank you. As you know, I represent the Board of Warfare Limitations.” ____ As you know. ____ “Your Proposal was rejected on the grounds of potential dangers posed to the public. The Project violated the Modified-CWC in particular, due primarily to its potential for warfare outweighing its usefulness to society.” He’d waited to adjust his glasses, and did so now, “As you know, M-CWC violations are an automatic KO to any proposal…” ____ As you know. ____ He adjusted his eyewear again, just to be safe, “…And any grants for violating projects have been illegal for many years now. As you know, this means the Board of Warfare Limitations must decline the project.” ____ As you know. ____ Joetex tapped his foot restlessly while he listened, feeling trapped in the uncomfortable chair he was sat in, his ears grinding through all the needless repetition. Discomfort urged him to speak up faster, “I would request an exemption from that clause on the grounds that the Project Synthesis has the potential to break new grounds in the fields of DNA reconstruction and growth. Failure is an acceptable alternative to never trying to make major progress at all.” ____ “Such a… problematic philosophy to have, Mr. Joetex.” The man at the center of the board hid behind his folder, adjusting his glasses again before continuing, “As a spokesperson for the Grant Committees, the Board is more interested in projects focused on preservation over extreme experimentation. Furthermore, the proposed project has little to no grounds to back up its hypothesized conclusions. Additionally, the Board has found numerous other ethical concerns regarding the nature of the proposal and the dangers its success might pose to society as a whole. The Board has no tolerance for any pursuits that might stain its image.” ____ “That sounds like a matter of preference, not ethics.” Joetex argued. ____ “Irregardless, the statement stands. Project Synthesis will be rejected on the grounds of M-CWC violations amongst other concerns, and therefore will not be given any grants. This concludes the session.” ____ Joetex crossed his arms and nodded, just waiting for each and every one of them to adjust their eyewear before getting up and leaving. ____ “It’s ridiculous, Ludlow.” Joetex muttered over a sip of coffee, eyeing the pigeons as they swarmed around his discarded bagel, “How many things in this universe have gone unexplored simply because of fear?” ____ The campus coffee shop was a big downgrade for the labs he used to work in. Tenure was a solid fallback for every failure, but it wasn’t experience earned on preference. It was just time spent there. Still, sitting in the park near the college wasn’t the worst place in the world to be with time on one’s hands. It was a good place to think, reflect. ____ Ludlow was the only other Professor to actually have worked in any serious studies, accomplishing more than just teaching dumb spoiled kids. Additionally he was the only one to ever follow Joetex down here for the company. He was more of a listener though, a complacent one if there ever was. ____ Still, he was at least a good listener, offering conversation as he flipped through Joetex’s notes, “Well, to be fair, red flags are worth ironing out. There’s a reason for the renovated rules, after all.” ____ “This’ll be the fourteenth one they turned down in a row. Yes, I’m keeping track.” ____ Ludlow raised his eyebrows up and down, “Impressive. I can see why too. Project Synthesis is just littered with the dreaded ‘P’ word. So much potential—baaad possibilities.” ____ “Potential is what testing is for.” Joetex refuted, “It’s completely backwards.” ____ “Just iron things out. Get it passed and then work your way up. Baby steps.” ____ “There’s no point in trying to appease people who make a living off of saying ‘No’.” The Professor mused. He leaned back a bit and reminisced, Those surveyed found the Project more disconcerting than useful [to us]. It was an immeasurable waste to his time and talents, perfectly good potential lobbed into the garbage bin for fear of its actual success. Yes, potential. The very basis of scientific gain. Who cared about the advancement of weapons and wars? Military minds had tried using everything ever invented for wartime purposes; it wasn’t anything new. Just think of everything that had happened to mankind since the dawn of time. Were actual board members afraid of that change? The nerve. The ignorance. The no-good— ____ He sighed and gazed out into the open green before him. There was a playground not far off, always crowded with crazy small children and their grumpy parents. Ludlow curiously followed his eyesight as he stared. He didn’t yet get the picture, “What’re you glaring at?” ____ “Those children.” Joetex replied, “They’re old children. Same children.” ____ “Hm?” ____ “I’ve been here for over thirty years, Ludlow. I’ve been watching that spot since their parents played here, and longer still. They’re the same people. With the same superstitions and the same fears. A lot has changed in thirty years, but not those people. I think I hate them.” ____ “Christ almighty, sir.” Ludlow said, “They’ve really wound you up, haven’t they?” ____ “Sorry.” He shook his head. Ludlow was young and idealistic. He wouldn’t understand, not for a long time, “Forget it.” ____ “Listen, if you’re really concerned about your Project, there’s a scientists’ demo—well, more like a conference—I’m going to. In November. Corporate sponsored. Maybe you could get a grant there? Meet some other names?” ____ “The Project can’t be sponsored, public or private.” Joetex denied. ____ Ludlow shrugged, “Not your current work, just work in general. Could be good for the mind.” ____ Joetex stared back at the playground, and listened to the birds and the wind in the trees, mulling. What would be best for the mind? Or was the mind the problem? ____ Cheap music and people chatting. ____ “To think I’d live to see the day actual scientists say ‘has science gone too far?’” ____ “Context, man, think context. What’s the point of science? To further the advancement of the human race!” ____ “How narrow-minded. Thinking it’s nothing more than a tool to serve us. We’re capable of so much more.” ____ “Not much of a point if it’s not for use.” ____ “Not much use if that’s your only point.” ____ Ludlow shrugged, “Whatever you say. I need another drink.” ____ He tugged at his bowtie and walked off, leaving Joetex alone in the crowd. It was a fancy gala with hastily-dusted-off suits and inexpensive free alcohol. Nothing too hard for the Mrs., heavens no. ____ That was just being cynical. Either way, it was more of an event than a boardroom meeting getting right to the point—a huge fancy dance hall crammed full of chatty rich people. There was a band, a buffet, plenty of staff with trays full of drinks. There was even a goddamned ice rink, apparently going for a winter theme here at the end of November. But none of that mattered to Joetex. The CEO of the organizing company was supposed to give a speech sometime tonight; Joetex was planning on talking to him. Everyone else here was too vapid to discuss seriously with. Maybe that included Ludlow… ____ The Professor sighed and stared down at the gaudy drink in his hand, a glass full of faded cheap yellow distraction-juice. What an ugly look. He downed the drink nonetheless and stared out at the ice rink before him, arms crossed and leaning a bit too far over the edge. Yes, distractions. At least he could look at the pretty girls out on the rink, skating and spinning and smiling. ____ Someone stood next to him, “It’s not ethical, you know. What it is they’re doing.” ____ “Hm?” Joetex glanced over. It was some man he didn’t know: thin and tall and young, long blonde hair making him stand out sorely against all the others here (trophy wives notwithstanding, but this was a man). His all-black, unusual clothes didn’t help him blend in either, yet Joetex hadn’t seen him until now. He too held a drink in a black-gloved hand, although he hadn’t had a sip. As if possessing it was more of a gesture than a refreshment. ____ “The perpetually concerned have no place in any society. The board is only interested in what will help them live longer and more luxuriously.” The young man continued, “They’re desperate. And for all their lecturing, they’d eat children raw if they thought it’d erase their wrinkles. Your work is in the realm of death, whose objective scythe makes them scatter. It terrifies them day and night.” ____ “I don’t work in death.” Joetex denied, “Death isn’t just.” ____ “Death is the only justice. It cannot be bought or corrupted or fled from.” ____ His words seemed random, as if brought out of nothing. Yet they still resonated on a subconscious level. Joetex raised an eyebrow and got a better look at the man, “Just who are you?” ____ “I am Elias of Apostle.” ____ “Did you just mispronounce your own name?” ____ “Nevermind that. I’m here to talk about you.” ____ Joetex wasn’t impressed, “Are you a scientist, Elias?” ____ “No, just a caretaker of squandered potential.” Elias replied, handing over a business card with nothing more than an address on it, “Come work for us. No one will tell you No ever again.” ____ Joetex eyed both sides of the card, finding it needlessly vague, “I’m not a freelancer. You can’t just give me money and expect me to serve you up results you like.” ____ “We’ll be there to serve you.” Elias said, “See you there.” ____ He was gone like that, turning and just walking off. Joetex watched him leave, checking to see if he was telling anyone else the same. But Elias didn’t have any more business cards, just the one, exiting the party without a word to anyone else. ____ The Professor checked the card again, suddenly realizing he forgot to ask how the man knew what he’d been thinking about the board. It was as if the mysterious recruiter had come from nowhere, here solely for Joetex, and then left back to the void from whence he came. ____ Odd, vague, suspect… there were many words for the red flags going off in his head… scam, phony, scant… potential… ____ Joetex pocketed the card and walked out, not bothering to wait for Ludlow to return. ____ The address was out of state, Joetex cashing in all his vacation and sick days into one chunk and leaving to seek its source. It was a facility of some kind, building unmarked by any company logo or title. Off the books one way or another, and still offering little in the way of answers. But he was a discoverer, he’d find his answers. ____ Inside the facility were simple offices. Here at least there were some logos, although it was a foreign one to Joetex. There was a front desk in the first hall to greet him, but there was no one at it. Instead Elias merely stood in the center of the hallway, already waiting for the Professor. ____ “Good evening.” He greeted, “Are you ready?” ____ Joetex still found him odd, but mildly charming, cracking a faint smile, “How many hours have you been standing there waiting for me?” ____ “Zero. My boss told me you’d come, and here you are.” ____ Another skeptical smile, “Tracked me, eh? Does your boss spend a lot of time behind a computer, or is he psychic?” ____ “Both.” Elias answered completely straight-faced, “Now, shall we talk business?” ____ He turned and began leading the way through the winding halls, Joetex keeping up to maintain the conversation, “Elias, was it? What kind of business did you have in mind?” ____ “My Lord is very interested in your ideas.” Elias explained as they strode through the office halls, “Particularly your ideas on altering living beings. It’s ambitious.” ____ Joetex paused but had to keep walking to maintain the pace, “That Project is off the books. Only the board and Ludlow have seen it. How can your employer know about it? Is he part of the scientific community?” ____ “Not at all. In here.” Elias approached two steel doors. Beyond was a decontamination room and beyond that was a sterilized laboratory. The counters were lined with equipment, the room already full of other workers. They were all dressed in a consistent white, the company logo on all their coats just the same as Elias. All stood up straight and faced the two as they entered, Elias turning to Joetex, “We can get whatever you need. Go, create your artificial beings. Consider it a blank check.” ____ Joetex merely gawked at the sight, almost trembling at the possibilities. It couldn’t be real, but it was. He had his grant. It was time to make it a reality. ____ It was exactly as it seemed, staff, tools, and money suddenly all at Joetex’s command. It was no different than any of the other high-end projects he’d worked on in the past, save for the unusual nature of his employers and the nature of the tests themselves. He didn’t care. ____ The process of constructing complicated organisms from the ground up was tedious and expensive. The Professor brought in cloned samples and other successful genetic tweaking research, and labored tirelessly to find a way of doing it without Nature’s help. There was a natural order to things—that’s what everyone insisted—but he’d get around it one way or another. Make your own code and then you’re the next God. ____ Elias waved his blank check at every expense, fully supporting Joetex’s needs regardless of cost or efficiency. He didn’t bat an eye at any failure, nor did he react to the copious amount of crumpled papers and discarded experiments that quickly filled the laboratory wastebaskets. He was an immeasurably patient man, as if he came from a future where Joetex had already succeeded, and knew it was an inevitability regardless of current obstacles. Only occasionally did he ask about the specifics of Joetex’s work, seemingly more out of curiosity than deadlines. ____ The other workers there were more or less in the same boat as Joetex: rogue scientists with something to prove one way or another. They all had their individual reasons for working for Apostle. Some were petty, others were completely valid. None of them questioned where their work was going, or what their employers wanted it for, Joetex least of all. He’d left his old life behind, old friends and schedules and expectations. He had no intention of going back. He hadn’t missed it for a second. ____ Only very infrequently did Elias’ own boss come by. He went by King, though Elias called him Lord. He was a very quiet yet frightening individual, always standing in the back and just silently glaring at their progress. He had dark inhuman eyes and wore a wide violet cloak—looking much more like an undead clergyman than a scientist. But there was an unnatural aura in his look and demeanor that made it work. Only Elias could look him in the eye and not be forced to look aside, surrendering to the stare. ____ Most of the people there were afraid of him, and preferred Elias’ company. He served as King’s softer, human mouthpiece—a more understanding and easygoing manager who subtly guided projects with an almost sneaky kind of warm encouragement. It worked on Joetex. ____ Orders came frequently and yet sporadically, mingling with his progresses. Form these samples. Develop these serums. Perform the following tests on the following subjects. Make this specific arrangement of cells. Joetex obeyed them all. Most lined up with his own experiments: organism augmentation and cell manipulation. ____ Any tests were performed on live humans, not all of them willing. He didn’t bother to care. Whose lives were really so important that they should be a roadblock to his work? He had nothing but contempt for even a mention of ethics. Setbacks and failures made corpses of them all. Yet nonetheless the bodies of the dead grew increasingly monstrous as the tests persisted. Apostle knew what they wanted from Joetex’s cell manipulations: more strength, more speed, more teeth. Monsters. ____ One day a new order came in, straight from the top. Make a new organism out of a dead one. A corpse came with the news. Joetex didn’t quite follow. ____ “Does King know how dead cells work?” The Professor questioned as Elias opened the body bag before him. ____ “My Lord knows what He wants.” He replied, “Your tests have been excelling so far, haven’t they?” ____ He couldn’t disagree. There was a time when he would have preferred to be growing back arms and legs, or spawning vital organs from scratch. Boosting muscles or brain cells as needed. Helping people. But that time was long behind him. The people he wanted to help had their chance. The people who’d helped him instead, these people, wanted claws and teeth. And so be it. ____ Still, perhaps he was outliving his usefulness. Now they wanted something else from him entirely. He needed something alive to start with. A corpse from the get-go was another matter entirely. ____ “I…” He stammered, “I will give it an honest try.” ____ “Lord will be watching this one closely.” Elias warned, “Don’t fail him.” ____ Honesty didn’t make his try any more successful. Any dead tissue within the subjects wouldn’t change, and any live tissue put into the corpse would eventually die off just the same as any of his earlier experiments. King’s continued presence (always in the back, always watching, never commenting) didn’t ease the failures. Finally the Professor only had one option left: modulate the cells and then jumpstart the body, hoping it would momentarily electrify the cells into action. Both Elias and King were here for that. ____ Other scientists here were just deckhands for this experiment. It was all on him, as were all eyes. Joetex awkwardly toasted with nothing, “Thank you for being here today, and making all this possible. Project Synthesis is a success, soon for the living and the dead. Uh, here’s to Apostle.” ____ Elias applauded (too quietly to be audible). King did nothing. ____ The samples had already been implanted into the corpse on the table, right in the middle of the room. At the Professor’s command one of the labcoats applied a small charge to the naked chest of the body. Screens lining one wall lit up, revealing sensory imaging of the cells within the cadaver. Lying still. Only a select few were still active, but they weren’t the modified ones in question. ____ “Are those the—?” Elias began, but Joetex cut him off. ____ “No sir. Another charge please, Spencer.” ____ The scientist did the same thing, with the same results. Joetex impatiently walked over, shoved the man aside, and repeated the charge with increased voltage. ____ Finally King spoke up, his voice deep and demanding, “Make it work.” ____ “I—I’m trying, sir.” Joetex tried the charge again, still without success, “If I could only have a live specimen first, like before, and then mold the cells before death…” ____ “No.” ____ “But I—” ____ King insisted, “Make it work like this.” ____ “No, it’s just not working! It doesn’t work ‘like this’!” Joetex shouted, mounting frustration making him louder at each word. He pounded the table, that and the shock causing the corpse to fall to the floor, “It’s just not humanly possible!” ____ “Make it possible.” Elias said. His tone told Joetex that he was speaking for his boss, saying what King was thinking. ____ Normally Joetex wouldn’t dare snap back at him, but his continuing insistence regardless of obstacles pushed the words through, “You don’t understand! I can’t do it! Throwing more time and money at it won’t fix it! Impossible is impossible! It’s not within the realm of reality!” ____ King didn’t seem fazed, just walking over and stooping down over the corpse, “I find reality to be highly overrated.” ____ Out from his cloak came one ironclad hand, directly over the body. A lone drop of blood somehow escaped his skin and armor, falling down and landing right between the subject’s eyes. The droplet sank into its skin and after a few seconds the corpse sat up again. It slowly got to its feet, stumbling forward aimlessly. ____ Everyone gasped at the sight, all taken equally aback (save for King of course, who never reacted to anything). Joetex’s jaw literally dropped as he saw the dead rise and walk around of its own accord, “You—you brought him back from the dead!” ____ “There is no coming back from the dead.” King replied. ____ “That’s incredible!” Joetex hurried over to the computers, getting his readings on the probes within the corpse’s flesh. The cells were active again, decaying yet functioning at the same time. It was as if the corpse had undergone transplants of every muscle and organ yet was still dead, the replacements working all on their own. ____ “There’s no rejection.” He marveled, looking back at King over his shoulder, “How did you get the DNA to accept yours?” ____ “I did no such thing.” King seemed far less impressed with his own work, “I merely forced it to bend to my own will.” ____ That didn’t make an ounce of sense to Joetex, but he didn’t question the man’s results. He felt like there was an entirely new genre of scientific laws suddenly exposed to him all at once, ones that superseded the laws and theories he’d studied for decades. All for the taking. He had experimenting to do. ____ “It’s all possible, isn’t it?” He asked, half to himself, “I can do it all.” ____ “All and more.” King told him. “Anything you think is possible is possible. Make your work flourish with me.” ____ “Yes sir.” ____ It almost felt like cheating. Any subject Joetex tested with King’s blood broke down its DNA and RNA, making it all the same. Versatile, subject to altercations. He could turn anything into anything, make it do whatever he wanted. This was light years ahead of recombinant DNA testing. ____ The first step was getting around nature’s barriers. Living organisms could be remended using King’s methods. Joetex immediately set to mapping out plans to put his Project into effect. Apostle’s requests could be accommodated, but more than anything success in his own plans was the most important thing. He could alter any organism and have it work regardless of whether or not the subject survived the tests. He could turn a corpse into anything and have it function as if it were alive. ____ He stopped leaving the building every night, working day in and out. He had the spark of life in his arsenal, and now the ability to make flesh do work. The orders came in: apply the strain to every specimen. He had his solution. He was going to push it to its limit. His next test was going to phase out everything God and Nature had given man’s flesh. Professor Joetex would decide what Form was. He had been given time, money, and a volunteer. ____ Joetex leaned toward the microphone, “Victor, can you hear me?” ____ The freshly formed monster faced the glass separating it and him, eyes darting left and right in suspicion, “Who is Victor?” ____ No memories, no pain. Both designed intentionally. Joetex figured if they were going to mass produce these creatures, it would be the best for both. He dodged the question, “I was speaking to you, Subject 16 Designated-BLOODLETTER. I am Professor Joetex.” ____ Victor pressed against the window, tentacles running along the pane, visibly tempted by something, “I can hear your tongue against your mouth, Professor. Give it to me.” ____ Joetex leaned away from the microphone, looking back at his audience. Elias if nothing else looked more visibly pleased at the results. King was impossible to read. Joetex went on, “Vocals, memory loss, bloodlust check out. Release the cat.” ____ Victor had an affinity for cats. This one was his own pet. A hole in the chamber opened up and in wandered the animal. Sensing something unnatural, it arched its spine and hissed at Victor. ____ “Oh, yes…” Victor didn’t even seem to recognize it, simply rushing to it and entangling the poor pet in its many tentacles. Without hesitation it bit into the animal and rent it apart, spilling blood across the floor as it continued eviscerating it. ____ Elias winced as the animal was maimed beyond recognition, apparently turned away by the sheer needless excess of the violence. He tugged at his collar, “Well, he works.” ____ Victor’s tentacles writhed around in the blood. Finally the high seemed to die down, and Victor turned to the glass again, “More!” ____ “In due time, Bloodletter.” Joetex assured it, “We have more tests to do.” ____ “As you will.” Victor turned and slithered off to the corner. ____ Elias had seemingly recovered, “Impressive handiwork, Professor. The body appears to be completely fluid. Seamlessly grown and transfused.” ____ King didn’t seem so impressed, just glaring at Victor as he spoke, “It is still human.” ____ “Of course.” Joetex replied, “It was the easiest way to meld your virus and my research. Easier to use a living sample than build one from scratch. And his human intelligence will make the results and any unwanted side-effects easier to discern. He’ll be able to tell us exactly how his new body feels and functions.” ____ “I have no use for humans.” King denied, “Build your creations from scratch. My virus has no need of human intellect. It will work on its own.” ____ “But the tests…” ____ “Do as I say.” He left at that. Joetex frowned and bit his lip, but had nothing else to say. He couldn’t forget his purpose here, his work not just satiating his possibilities. It was a union between him and King, one where King held all the power at that. Pocketing his grievances, the Professor turned and walked out too. ____ Tiny withered men grew in jars. Their eyes hadn’t grown in yet. The strain was the only thing that would give them life, yet they looked already dead. Life without life. Joetex eyed them one by one, eyes peeled for any extrahuman features. Fangs and claws were simple to achieve; he was going for more outlandish. The undead were efficient test subjects, quick to learn the functions of their complex and bizarre new bodies. Pain was no issue, ineffective limbs no great loss. Elias and Dr. Ruxus monitored. ____ “Progress?” ____ Joetex paused, “Fangs coming in nicely. Lack of nerves makes up for any mistakes. It’ll use whatever is available to it for hunting prey.” ____ The last batch had been successful, but he hadn’t been too bold with the changes made. This time things were going to be different. ____ “This is bloody madness.” Dr. Ruxus complained, “Past the randomness of nature, and yet we as men are still making freaks when given the choice.” ____ “Freaks are made by their decisions, not birth.” Elias noted coolly. ____ “Well then that’s our decisions, in that case. What good are these braindead killers?” ____ “To fix a broken and repetitive world. Isn’t that correct, Harold?” ____ Joetex was only half-listening up to that part, eyeing the small specimens. Was this the militarization of his projects, the thing the board had dreaded so four years ago? Or was it due change? Again he thought of that damn college. The playground. They were all still there, he bet. And he would be too, if not for Apostle. Have your doubts, Dr. Ruxus, for the sake of the old children. But the Professor had his new world now: the one he’d built. ____ He pressed against the glass, “New children.” _____________________________________________________________________ CHAPTER INDEX:
Spoiler Alert!
The Moon Has Wings PrologueTitle 1: It Begins 2: Evac 3: Commandeered 4: Full Moon 5: Others Extra: Twelve People In The Woods 6: Torture 7: A Dark Fall 8: Standard 9: The Tower 10: Fear 11: Split 12: The House Of Covets 13: Parable Of The Gladly Dead 14: The V.A.C.C. 15: Departure 16: Reunion Extra: Die Down 17: Uncertainty 18: Really Living 19: Head Out 20: In The Wake Of The World 21: The Bloodletter 22: The Symbol 23: The Lab 24: The Apostle 25: The Light (If you don't like how wide the Single Post is, click on the Thread link in the top right corner to view the post in the Thread's normal format.) _____________________________________________________________________ RATING & COPYRIGHT This story contains mature content and is only recommended for readers 18 and up. Or those who think they can handle content for those 18 and up. Read at your own discretion. The Moon Has Wings contains Violence, Blood, Gore, Strong Language, Disturbing Imagery, Sexual Violence, Acts of Terror, and stuff like that. - Obligatory Copyright Statement (ironically plagiarized from TGRF's Version) - This is TheAverageFan's story, intended solely for the purpose of being released on heroscapers.com. Any copying of the text within this fan fiction will be in violation of the copyright laws of heroscapers.com. Text copyright © 2016 by heroscapers.com user TheAverageFan The Moon Has Wings Title copyright © 2016 by heroscapers.com user TheAverageFan You may not copy any part or portion of this fan fiction without the express permission of the original creator. You bastards. Now on with the show! Enjoy! ~TAF  TAF was the Storyteller... in THE ENEMY'S LAST RETREAT Last edited by TheAverageFan; March 23rd, 2022 at 06:35 AM. Reason: Fixed typo (Joetex's Story) 
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#2
October 31st, 2016, 06:15 PM
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Prologue
Let's hop to it, yeah? Prologue first, of course.
Spoiler Alert!
Prologue ____Indian-Pacific Ocean Border, 20:00, Mission Briefing ____Commander Grimm stepped into the briefing room, eyeing a map of the northern coastline on one end of the room and a group of men on the other. He managed a half smile with a tint of grimness befitting of his name before speaking, “Y’know, I always say there’s enough bullets to kill every man, woman, and child in the goddamned world. Isn’t that right, Sgt. Header? Don’t I say that all the time?” ____One of the older men in the group, a wrinkled but muscular fellow, nodded, “That’s correct sir.” ____Grimm continued, “But we don’t live in the age of guns ‘n’ bullets anymore. I’m talking the nuclear age. To be fair, it’s been that way for a better part of the century, and we haven’t seen a whole lot of nuclears in our age, thank God. I intend to keep it that way.” ____He tapped the map, or rather the screen the map was projected on. Instantly the image changed to a picture of a large cylindrical building on the water as well as an image of a man and a large missile. ____“This is Dr. Albrecht Ruxus.” Grimm introduced, “Scientist. Former member of both NASA and DARPA. Not a good guy to fall off the grid. He resurfaced around the same time certain nuclear ingredients went missing around two months ago. Y'all remember that fiasco. Our intelligence has confirmed his presence in this area.” ____One of the younger men, Corporal Thorn, spoke up, “You’re talking about a dirty bomb?” ____“I wish we were talking an RDD here, blondie.” Grimm answered the Corporal, “We have reason to believe this man has access to a Fission Weapon and may very well use it.” ____“I don’t see why not.” Another man said jokingly, “We’re all dead men walking, right? Lumis’ Comets and all.” ____Several people laughed but Grimm wasn’t amused, “I don’t give a sh*t about no comets. This is here and now. We’ve been working our asses off tracking these materials and this man. Now we’ve found them both at this research plant. Oceanic Observatory, Collis Corporation. We received a report that they went dark about four hours ago. You pukes are the best we could assemble in the short notice. Both General Tandom and I will be overseeing the mission.” ____He tapped the screen again, pointing to the building, “Intel has confirmed that both Ruxus and that bomb are here. Find them and stop them. Now that bomb could be remotely activated, so we go quiet. We need confirmation that the device isn’t active before we can blow it to hell. Two teams from the water, two sniper drones from the air. No one finds out. And take Dr. Ruxus alive. He has a lot of explaining to do. Any questions?” ____“No sir.” In unison. ____“Good. Ain’t got time for questions. Now as I always say to the Mrs. ‘suit up and get wet’. Move!” ____“Sir yes sir.” Dismissed. ____Thirty five minutes later. ____Thorn crept silently out of the water, gun pointed up at the man standing on the grate above him. Others followed him out of the murky depths, Lt. Moore to his left and Sgt. Header to the far right. The Sergeant quietly placed two charges of semtex on the grate above and nodded to Moore, the others doing the same. ____“We’re good. On yours.” The Lieutenant whispered. ____Commander Grimm reaffirmed the command before turning to two tech guys at the nearby computers, “Roger that. Are the drones in position?” ____One of the two nodded, “Mini-Me 1 and 2 are good. Fire on your command.” ____“Confirmed. Fire.” Grimm answered, “Weapons free, Moore.” ____“Weapons free.” Moore relayed. ____Thorn nodded and loaded his weapon, a silenced M4A1 with a hybrid sight attached to the rail. The black carbine was compact and to-the-point; he’d always admired its simple efficiency. The floor above them housed around a dozen or so armed combatants. None of them knew. ____A faint buzzing could be heard above them, followed by the sound of silenced gunshots and shattering glass. Two then four of the hostiles fell dead, blood dripping down onto Thorn’s head from above. ____“Now!” Moore commanded. The entire group dipped down into the water and the semtex exploded, shattering the floor above them. Thorn and Moore crept back up, lifted up to the floor above by those below them. ____Now every second counted. Thorn took half a deep breath as he did before every breach. What followed would only take as long as that missing half breath. And this was no mission to mess up on. ____The remaining eight hostiles were either confused or facing the broken windows, looking in the wrong place for their attackers. The drones had already moved on. Thorn leveled his rifle at the closest one to not have his back turned and fired. Single shot. He dropped the combatant and moved on to the next one, the silenced shots coming one after another. Smoke drifted up from the weapon’s barrel and water dripped down off its body. They all had waterproof variants of their weapons, soaked and unhindered as they fired. ____“Heads up, Header!” Moore shouted now that the cover was blown, reaching down and yanking an AA12 shotgun out of the water below. He lobbed the weapon over to Header, who caught it and opened fire on the remaining foes without a second thought. The fully-automatic bursts of fire leapt out of the black shotgun’s dripping barrel and tore through whoever was still standing. Despite also being silenced, a shotgun was still a shotgun, the loud bursts of fire sounding like a pounding piston. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! ____Thorn ignored the commotion as enemies fell all around him, keeping his weapon trained on the only staircase leading up. After a few seconds another hostile came down the steps, glancing around to see what the racket was and confusedly holding a radio to his masked lips. Thorn squeezed the trigger the second he turned the corner. The man’s head kicked back, spewing blood onto the wall just before he collapsed. ____“Clear.” Thorn called out, slowly advancing to the staircase. Header took the lead just in front of him, reloading his AA12 and crouching down low. Behind them Moore stooped down and began helping the rest of the squad out of the water and onto the observatory. ____“Good.” Comm. Grimm’s voice replied in his earpiece, “Sweep the next floors. Quickly. They realize something’s up and we’re through.” ____“Affirmative. Sweeps. No survivors.” Moore replied, “Give us eyes, Mini-Me’s.” ____“Take point with me, kid.” Header told Thorn, beginning to ascend the stairs. ____“As long as you leave some for me I’m game.” Thorn replied, staying right behind him, “Moore: Header and I are spearheading. Follow up.” ____“Gotcha. Teams of two.” The Lieutenant replied. ____Thorn and Header moved onto the next floor, swiftly moving down a long hall with a slight curve to it. Giant windows were on the left, the faint image of the tiny flying drones barely visible as they watched. On the right were doors. Thorn took point, Header peeking into the open ones and leaving the closed ones for the rest of the squad. Anyone he saw he promptly killed with his AA12, leaving blood and clusters of bullet holes on the metal walls. The drones spotted anyone ahead of Thorn and called them out or shot them dead for him. The sounds of muffled cries and silenced gunshots quietly filled the air as they did their bloody work. ____“Tangos down. Floor cleared.” Moore repeated as Thorn and Header neared the next stairwell, “Keep moving.” ____“Roger.” Thorn whispered into his radio as he peeked around the corner, “Clear. Moving on up.” ____The next floor was very much like the first, the two moving forward and clearing room after room with cold efficiency. Each hostile was the first to discover their presence there, the next one always none the wiser. ____The staticy loud narration of a television set greeted them at the last room of the floor, its noise having helped mask their approach. Thorn peeked as far around the corner as he dared and listened for the voices of the hostiles inside. One, two, four, six different guys in here at least. ____The television was on the news, speaking English with three sets of subtitles. Ugh. Thorn hated the news. They were still talking about Lumis’ Comets. ____“See, these meteors are unlike anything we’ve ever encountered before. Most asteroid bodies will move at speeds ranging from anything between twenty-five thousand miles per hour to a hundred and sixty thousand miles per hour.” ____“That’s pretty speedy, wow!” ____“To us, perhaps, but it’s only average to many asteroids. Lumis’ Comets are distinctly fast compared even to those measures. Imagine the difference between a child lobbing a baseball to a professional pitcher.” ____“Any idea what made them that way?” ____“We don’t know the origin for sure but we’ve theorized that they must’ve somehow been caught between two very strong gravitational pulls. That sped them up to the point where they broke free of the pull and went slingshotting on their way.” ____“And is there anything you can do about these? People are concerned.” ____“We’ve been consistent in assuring everyone that we are doing everything we can, working around the clock, to find ways to ensure that Earth is not the final destination. I can tell you that there’s nothing to worry about.” ____“Thank you for your time. In similar news, unrest around the globe has continued to mount as many take to the streets to protest the Comets and demand governments take action.” ____Thorn smirked as he listened. They had no idea about the nuke. One panic at a time, I suppose, he reasoned. But enough of that. He nodded to Header, took out a flashbang and twitched his hand six times. Header nodded and readied his shotgun. ____Thorn threw the grenade into the room, the flashbang bouncing off the TV screen and casting the entire area in a blinding white light. Header turned the corner and opened fire. In a second the TV was the only voice in the room anymore, the Sergeant stepping back out and glancing over his shoulder back at Thorn. ____“Seven.” He said. ____ “Quiet guy, then.” Thorn shrugged and stepped into the bloody room, “These muppets are clueless.” ____“Cheap PMC, most likely. Local.” Header grunted, “Betcha they don’t even know what cargo they’re protecting.” ____“Maybe they think we’re all doomed already.” Thorn joked, tapping the staticy television with his rifle, “Perhaps the mad doctor is desperate to see us go out on our own terms. With a bang.” ____Lt. Moore caught up, peeking into the room and frowning, “Less talk, you two. We’re on the clock. Move it.” ____“Yessir.” Thorn and Header replied with such immediacy they spoke in unison. ____“Moore, speed it up.” Commander Grimm radioed in, “We’ve got several incoming aircraft. Getaway craft, more likely than not. I’ve got gunships on standby so we can take them down if necessary, but we need Ruxus alive. He does not get off this observatory in any helicopter but our own. Got it?” ____“Yes, yes sir.” Moore answered, snapping his fingers at Thorn and Header, “We’re short on time. Ass, gear, now.” ____The next few floors came fast and efficient. Thorn moved with a brisk pace, not stopping when shooting and making his way to the next staircase. With a quick flick of his weapon Thorn switched his hybrid sight to the scope. Swiftly pulling the trigger twice he dropped two hostiles down the hall. They collapsed to the ground, limp trigger fingers still gripping their Uzis. ____“Clear.” He said, lowering his weapon. ____“Clear.” Moore reaffirmed from the back, “Last floor, move it!” ____Thorn and Header quickly ascended the stairs, weapons at the ready. The last room opened up in front of them, the entire floor a single open space. As one would expect from an observatory, it was a dome-shaped roof with a single rectangular opening on one end. Any telescope had since been dismantled, a large missile in its place at the far end of the room. There the bomb sat, active or not Thorn didn’t know. Not that it mattered. If it went off who knew what would happen next in the panic. ____By the missile stood a single person. Even from here it was clear: they had found their man. Thorn and Header raised their guns and advanced quickly as the rest of their squad entered the room as well. ____“Dr. Albrecht Ruxus!” Header called out, training his M16 on the man and quickly starting to move in on him, “Don’t move a muscle. We’re here to bring you in.” ____The Dr. turned and faced the squad as they fanned out. He was a late middle-aged man with wild blonde hair. A matching crazed look shone in his aging eyes. He held a small detonator tightly in one hand, thumb alarmingly close to the trigger. One wrong move, one bad flick of the wrist… ____“Don’t you try to stop me!” Ruxus shouted, backing toward the control panel by his missile, “This has to happen! You short-sighted fools don’t have a damn clue what you’re doing!” ____“Don’t do it, Doctor!” Thorn yelled, circling around the opposite end as Header, “Let’s just talk things over.” ____Ruxus looked from one soldier to the next, “It’s worth it. It’s worth it!” ____The sound of helicopter blades began to fill the air. Thorn quickened his pace, Header closing in from the other side. Moore stayed in the back while the rest of the squad closed in on the Doctor, M16 aimed directly at his wrist. ____Ruxus pointed to Thorn, “Not a step closer! Listen, you don’t understand. The world is ending! And few survivors are better than none!” ____“Talk to me, Ruxus.” Thorn said, eyeing Header nearing the hysterical Doctor from behind, “Tell us what’s up. Just talk to us.” ____Ruxus’ eyes darted back and forth between all the advancing soldiers, “D-Don’t try to con me. Not a step closer, goddamn it! You’re clueless goddamned pawns!” ____“Shaking hands’re slipping, Thorn!” Commander Grimm’s voice shouted in Thorn’s ear like a drill sergeant conscious, “Subdue the bastard before it’s too late!” ____“Okay, okay, I’ve stopped.” Thorn lowered his weapon and held his hands up, backing away from the Doctor, “Just talk to me.” ____“Lower all your weapons and I’ll talk.” Ruxus replied, “All of you…” ____“Do not lower your weapons.” Grimm shouted, “Drones do not have clear sight of you. Do not chance it on this madman!” ____Thorn glanced at the observatory ceiling. It was a dome of thin triangular panels. No good line of sight into the opening with the missile in the way. The drones’ snipers were useless here. ____“I…” Thorn said, glancing from the ceiling to the detonator to the others. ____“None of you knows what needs to be done.” Dr. Ruxus condemned, “You’ll all thank me, one day, from here or from heaven.” ____He raised his arm. The second his limb moved Thorn raised his M4 with equal speed. Neither of them were fast enough to outmaneuver what happened next. ____BZZZTZZZTZZT!!! Heavy-duty machinegun fire tore through the roof of the observatory, high-caliber bullets piercing Ruxus’ torso and tearing him apart. ____“Aagh!” The Doctor fell to the ground in shock, the detonator rolling out of his severed hand. In an instant he was gone, torn asunder by the rain of lead. ____“Get down!” Header shouted, the squad scattering from the bullets like cockroaches from the light. Thorn hit the dirt and looked skyward as more gunfire tore the roof apart. From the gaping holes in the destroyed ceiling he saw armed helicopters flying around. Men equipped with military-grade weaponry sat on the sides of the aircraft, their legs dangling in the air. He didn’t recognize them, so they weren’t backup, but they did just stop Ruxus so he was nonetheless confused. ____The helicopter swerved in the air, allowing one of the men on the side to face them. He held up a megaphone and shouted over the roar of the blades, “You’re a touch slow!” ____This man Thorn recognized. Pale and skinny, with long messy black hair and an equally unkempt goatee. Alex Silvin. One of the most wanted terrorists in the world. He had a complicated history with Thorn. Yet he seemed so minor compared to this nuclear dilemma. His being here seemed unreal, but Thorn collected himself and got back to his feet. He had to be connected, and perhaps he could explain what Dr. Ruxus refused to. ____“Why are you here!?” He screamed at Silvin, the helicopter flying down low as he called out. ____“What?!” ____“Why are you here!?” Thorn repeated. ____“Ah, Private Christian Thorn! Or is it Corporal yet?” Silvin replied remarkably casually, grinning from behind the megaphone. ____Thorn kept his rifle at the ready, eyeing his comrades doing the same. Unfortunately their infantry arms would do little against these helicopters. They needed backup. Stall. He looked back to Silvin, “Why’d you stop Ruxus?!” ____“I wanted a medal. Where is it?” He answered with slimy sarcasm. ____“Why would a terrorist like you want to stop a nuclear launch?” ____“I need the bodies!” Silvin laughed, “’Sides, given our current state of overpopulation you could still count stopping a nuclear holocaust as terrorism, right?” ____“Gunships are on the way.” Commander Grimm relayed in Thorn’s earpiece, “Get out of there now!” ____Silvin continued, “Speaking of which, I’d like to keep this encounter off the books. Whaddaya say?” ____He dropped the loudspeaker and leaned back, one of the men beside him replacing the discarded mike with a P90 submachine gun. ____“Go!” Thorn shouted, everyone in the squad turning and bolting for the stairs. Immediately the helicopters opened fire, bullets piercing the roof and pelting the floor all around them. ____“Get to the water—it’s the safest place here!” Moore instructed, waiting for everyone in the squad to get past him before continuing further down the observatory. The helicopters swerved around the building, firing through the windows. Others hovered near the roof, the soldiers aboard rappelling down. ____“Contact!” Four kicked their way through the windows, raising their AK47 rifles and opening fire as Thorn and the others came down the hall. ____“Incoming!” Thorn ducked into one of the rooms along the hall, bullets peppering the door as he narrowly evaded the gunfire. Header barreled in after him, switching to his AA12 shotgun and breathing heavily. ____“You hit?” Thorn shouted over the deafening unsilenced gunfire. ____“Ol’ Faithful bites another bullet.” Header tapped his vest, morbidly grinning, “You have to engage in a dialogue with the guy?” ____“Ruxus or Silvin?” ____“Either or.” ____“I was stalling.” ____“Is that what you call it? You got another flashbang?” ____“Yup.” Thorn took out his last grenade, throwing it out into the hall. With another burst of light Header jumped out of the room, making short work of all four enemy combatants with his full-auto shotgun. ____“Clear! Move!” The Sergeant shouted, ducking down and rushing further down the hall. Two more helicopters flew along the side of the building as they ran, lighting up the corridor with gunfire. Silvin leaned out from the side of one of them, smiling gleefully as he emptied the magazine of his submachine gun into the observatory with careless abandon. ____“Damn!” Thorn fired back, his assault rifle doing little against the aircraft. ____BZZZT!! Another wave of gunfire punished him for standing still for a second, bullets tearing through the wall and running right up one of his legs. ____“Aargh!” Thorn screamed, collapsing. Moore was quick to rush to his side, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him away from the windows. The Lieutenant aimed his M16 carefully and fired the grenade launcher under its barrel. The small explosive flew right out and struck one of the helicopters head on, quite a shot. It burst into flame and fell from the sky. ____“Can you walk, Corporal!?” Moore shouted at Thorn, reloading. ____“I’m just grazed…” He tried to get back up but collapsed, biting his lip in pain, “One legged hop, maybe. Get me out of here.” ____“Hostiles!” Another soldier shouted over the gunfire, Moore grimacing and helping Thorn up. They slowly limped out of the hall and down the stairs. Thorn dropped his weapon and pulled his pistol out, aiming down the corridor as they moved. He shot two combatants as they rounded the corner. It was chaos in here, but manageable chaos. It was the helicopters he couldn’t do anything about. ____Another of the aircraft drifted around in the air, tearing the whole floor apart with gunfire. Moore muttered sh*t and various other things under his breath, struggling to aim his M16 while supporting Thorn. The helicopter faced the two of them. ____BANG!!! A missile flew out and struck the chopper, destroying it instantly. From the darkness flew in two gunships, attack helicopters, opening fire upon the enemy aircraft with little discretion. ____“SuperCobras” Comm. Grimm ordered, “Tear these little sh*ts apart.” ____The enemy choppers flew back away from the observatory, spraying the gunships with bullets. What it did to the infantry it didn’t to the attack helicopters, however. The gunships punished the smaller helicopters commitment to battle with more missiles. ____“Hot damn! Now let’s go!” Header shouted as he reentered the hallway, rushing to Moore’s side and helping him get Thorn down to the bottom floor. ____“Thanks.” Thorn muttered to his comrades, gritting his teeth as pain swelled in his leg. He was fortunate it was still attached after that encounter, but it made up in discomfort what it lacked in severity. ____“You’re lucky, kid.” Header said, “You live another day.” ____Another helicopter fell to the gunships, men leaping from the vessel as the pilots were torn apart by gunfire. Silvin watched from his helicopter, frowning, throwing his P90 overboard and turning to the pilots, “Well, sh*t. There goes all the fun. Okay, get us out of here. Elias will want a report.” ____The last few helicopters turned and flew back toward the coast, leaving the ones still fighting with the SuperCobras to their fate. ____Commander Grimm removed his headset and sighed, rubbing his face. ____“Last of the hostiles are down, sir. We’ve got four men KIA and three injured. Should we pursue the retreating aircraft?” ____“No, no.” Grimm answered, “Can’t blow our cover. Cover the observatory and send a team to secure the bomb. Nobody knows this happened at all. Got it?” ____“Yes sir.” ____Grimm sat down and leaned as far back as the stiff chair would let him, “Get General Tandom on the line. Tell him Ruxus didn’t make it. And that the crisis has been averted. God forbid we can go another day without fear of nuclear annihilation.” ____“Yes sir.” ____The radio sputtered back to life, Grimm picking the headset back up and listening. ____“Sir, this is Lieutenant Moore. We’re clear. Mission accomplished.” ____“Good.” Grimm said, “Get back to base. You boys need a break.” ____Header’s radio chimed in, “And you, sir?” ____Grimm smirked, “No sir. There ain’t never a break at the top. No rest for the wicked, I guess.” ____He glanced at the control panel in front of him, wishing here was a glass of liquor sitting there just waiting for him. No sir, he thought, No nuclear war today, but our work here is far from over. I’ve got a feeling. More to come. ~TAF TAF was the Storyteller... in THE ENEMY'S LAST RETREAT Last edited by TheAverageFan; March 17th, 2022 at 06:08 AM. Reason: Fixed typos (thanks TGRF)
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#3
October 31st, 2016, 06:35 PM
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Title
H U The Moon Has Wings By Todd Inscho R
T TAF was the Storyteller... in THE ENEMY'S LAST RETREAT Last edited by TheAverageFan; November 1st, 2016 at 08:33 PM.
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#4
October 31st, 2016, 06:54 PM
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Chapter 1
Since it's the first day I certainly couldn't go without giving you more than just a prologue.
Chapter 1:
Spoiler Alert!
 1 It Begins ____Four months later… ____Thomas woke up on the couch, his hands and feet pressing against moving boxes as he stretched. Bright morning light poured in from his apartment windows, the cold shining brisk light only the Windy City could have. Gray. ____Thomas yawned and rolled off the couch, hitting the floor to help wake him up. He was always the most tired when he first got up, regardless of how much sleep he got. It’d be easier just to turn his back to the light and try to make up for it with more shuteye, but there was no time for that. He had things to do. ____Cardboard boxes shortened and widened like people growing old and fat as Thomas stacked them on top of each other. He never realized how much junk he had until it all had to be packed up. The television played in the background and a toaster cooked frozen waffles as he worked. ____A short knock on the apartment’s open door was soon followed by an elderly woman stepping into the room. Thomas acknowledged her with a glance and looked back down at his work, “Angie, Angie, when will those clouds all disappear?” ____She gave him a tight-lipped smile, “Must you always greet me with that song?” ____“Sorry, force of habit.” Thomas said, “Thanks for helping me with this.” ____“Oh, it’s my pleasure. You’ve been a good neighbor.” Angie glanced at the TV. There was a filthy man with an unkempt mess of a beard holding a big cardboard sign and shouting something incomprehensible, “With all those nutcases out there, I’ve been lucky to have you.” ____Thomas smirked as he rooted through drawers and desks, tossing a torn stack of pictures, a rusty metal can opener, and a Bible into a box labeled Junk, “Well, that and you’ll get all this stuff.” ____Angie opened another box and looked through it, “You got me. I’m just that kind of old lady, Thomas. Can’t let go of anything, even if it’s not mine. You sure you don’t want this stuff?” ____“I’m travelling light. Everything in these boxes here is yours when I’m gone.” Thomas scanned the kitchen counter, “The Junk boxes, the I Don’t Think This Is Mine boxes… There’s a half-finished bottle of wine here too if you want it. Anyways, holding onto all this is a waste.” ____“That’s sad.” ____“It’s really not.” Thomas walked back over to the toaster just as the waffled popped out. He took one and crammed it into his mouth, not bothering with syrup. He nodded to the TV, “Besides, haven’t you heard? The world’s ending soon. No use clinging to stuff.” ____“Yeah, there’s that.” Angie picked up one of the smaller boxes, “Okay, so where do you want all this?” ____Thomas pointed, “All this stuff I’ll get myself. Pickup truck’s parked in the alley so just put it there. Moving guys’ll get the furniture later.” ____“Lord, you parked in the alley? How long has it been there? What if it gets stolen?” ____“Most people wouldn’t think it even works.” ____Angie shrugged and walked to the door, “Alright, alright, I’m going.” ____“Right behind you.” Thomas picked up a box of his own and followed his neighbor out. The apartment hallway was narrow and cramped, the ugly green and brown wallpaper only making it seem more confined. But that’s just how it was: the entire apartment was a tall building stretched thin, like a giant domino. Fortunately Thomas lived on the second floor, so it wasn’t too far of a venture down to the truck and back. ____The rust-colored vehicle was snugly fit between two buildings in an alleyway, parked directly beneath the apartment’s fire escape. Thomas’ greatest fear for his truck was that those rickety black stairs and ladders would collapse onto it. That had already happened with the second floor’s section of the fire escape around a year ago. They never had gotten around to replacing that. Thomas pessimistically figured a city with such a rich history of fires would be more on point with that sort of thing. But after today that wouldn’t be his problem any longer. ____He and Angie set the boxes in the bed of the truck, the old woman returning inside while he organized and secured them. He didn’t have a cover for the truck, and the last thing he wanted to do was hit a pothole and lose everything he needed. ____Boom… Boom! In the distance he heard the faint sound of two soft explosions. Thomas took a step back and glanced down the street. It was quiet again. He frowned and shrugged, figuring it to be either construction or gunshots, neither uncommon. Maybe the noise just reminded him of how quiet it was today. Still plenty loud around the world according to the TV, but not here. He didn’t mind that though. All the best parts of life were the silent ones. With a few exceptions. ____Back to work. Going up and down the steps, passing Angie halfway each time, Thomas fetched one thing after another and brought it back to his truck. It was fairly short work, all the boxes not even enough to fill the back of the truck, but better that than the alternative. It didn’t take long. He probably didn’t even need to ask Angie for help in the first place. She must’ve thought so too, because he didn’t pass her at all on the last walk up. ____Thomas walked into the open apartment room and approached the last couple of boxes, any others in the room now Angie’s property, stacking them up on top of each other and trying to get a good grip underneath. The sound of a siren, again not uncommon, wailed in the distance. Thomas glanced at the TV, seeing another rally of countless people running about. He smirked again, making silent assertions about “most people” and walked out. ____As soon as Thomas entered the hall a man barreled out from the stairs and landed on the floor. The man picked himself up and glared at Thomas, panting heavily. Raising an eyebrow, Thomas stopped in his tracks and examined the fellow from a distance, confused. He seemed off. Very off. Now was a very bad time to be holding a stack of boxes. ____“…Sir…?” Thomas questioned, “Are you okay?” ____“Gah…” The man rose back to his feet and stumbled forward. Thomas now saw that the man’s shirt was extremely bloodied, an observation that only gave him a split second of a warning. The bloody man broke into a run, charging straight for Thomas. ____“Hell!” Thomas threw the boxes at the attacker, stalling for a second and running back to his apartment. He turned and slammed the door shut, the bloody man’s arms getting in the way. Thomas pressed against the door, tired and panicked, as the unknown assailant tried to force his way in. ____Thud!! The man slammed against the door, pushing Thomas back and running into the room. Scooting back along the floor, Thomas looked from the man to the desks to the boxes and back, looking for both an explanation and a means of defense. The bloody attacker advanced. ____Thinking quickly, Thomas grabbed the Junk box and tore it open, grabbing the old can opener. It was a little rusty wrench of a tool, hardly a worthy weapon, but desperate times. The crazed man didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest, lunging for Thomas and grabbing him, jaws opening wide. ____“Get off!” Thomas shoved the can opener into the man’s open mouth, wrenching it about and feeling blood dripping onto his hand. He tore the tool out, kicking the assailant back and scrambling to his feet. A good kick to the face knocked the bloodied man down, where he twitched and moaned in pain. ____Thomas dusted himself off, backing away further. What the hell was happening? Who was this guy? More unanswered questions were postponed as the sound of fast-approaching footsteps down the hall heralded the entrance of another crazed-looking guy running into the room. This one too sprinted straight for Thomas, arms flailing about wildly and drool flying from his open jaws. The man barreled into Thomas and slammed him back against the kitchen counter, trying to get in a bite just the same as the first attacker. ____“Sh*t!” Thomas struggled and put his hand on the man’s face, trying to hold him back. Reaching back with his other hand, he grabbed the half-empty wine bottle on the counter and swung it forth, smashing the man upside the head. ____“Graah!” The crazed attacker stumbled back, Thomas getting up and quickly stabbing him in the gut with the remnants of the broken bottle. Too scared for his life to turn down murder, he turned around and seized a wrench from one of the I Don’t Think This Is Mine boxes. He’d borrowed it from a long-gone friend years ago, for what purpose he couldn’t remember. For right now though it was a godsend. Swiftly bringing it down on the man’s head over and over, Thomas beat the assailant back and down with the tool until he stopped moving. Blood splattered the floor and his hands. But there was no time to worry about that. ____The other crazy man had gotten back to his feet, moaning and groaning and stumbling forward. Thomas stepped forward and struck him across the face, breaking his jaw in a single severe blow. The man again stumbled in place before slowly facing Thomas, seemingly unfazed by his jaw hanging limp. ____Thomas stepped back. Not human. He gripped his weapon tighter in fear. Kill it. Sucking up the gruesomeness of the bloody scene to be, he stepped forward and struck the man again in the face, this time knocking him back down to the floor. Thomas continued to beat the man until his head was also soaking in a puddle of blood, shattered. ____It was still and again quiet. Thomas breathed heavily, looking around the room. Seeing the open door, he cautiously approached it and listened down the hall. More footsteps, heavy and fast. ____“Sh*t!” Thomas repeated, shutting the door and locking it, turning and pacing around the bloody room, “Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t!” ____What the hell was going on!? Thomas looked down at the two dead men in his apartment. Already they reeked of death, broken heads ajar and limbs contorted. He slowly approached, eyeing the two with morbid curiosity. What are you two? ____“…Ah, the TV!” He raced to the television, picking up the remote and flipping between channels. The crazed men, the sirens… if there was something going on, there’d surely be coverage. Finally the screen flickered to life with a live broadcast, the words “Chemical Attack” in big letters at the bottom. ____“The explosions occurred in separate locations across Austin, Chicago, and New York respectively. More reports are still coming in, reportedly in San Diego and London. First responders are on the scene. Authorities have confirmed that it is indeed a chemical attack but are yet to confirm any other specifics.” ____Thomas stared at the screen in disbelief, unsure what to say or even what to think. ____“People in affected areas should remain indoors and avoid crowded areas. Wait… we’ve just received confirmation of an explosion in Camden, London. We’ll keep you up to date as things change.” ____“This is an emergency broadcast. Stay inside and do not panic. We have the situation under control. I repeat…” ____Another distant boom made Thomas jump, along with a heavy and noisy pounding on the apartment door. Thomas whirled around and approached the door. The banging continued relentlessly. After witnessing these two crazed savages and seeing the disaster unfolding on TV the last thing Thomas wanted to do was open his door again. He needed to look after himself for a bit until things were under control. But what if it was someone who needed his help? What if it was Angie? Dammit. Thomas took a deep breath, the first one he’d taken since things went to hell in those last few minutes. He took a look through the peephole. ____Another one. BANG! The door pushed back against Thomas again as the attacker pounded the door. Thomas leapt back and rushed into the next room, hoping the lock would hold as he hastily dragged the couch over and in front of the door. That awful pounding continued endlessly, the door shaking but holding steady. Thomas breathed a sigh of relief and carefully glanced back through the peephole. ____The man stood there on the other side, repeatedly ramming itself into the door over and over. Its (yes, “its”… Thomas didn’t know what was going on right now, but he knew that these things were no longer “he’s” or “she’s”) head was bleeding from the impact, a few teeth falling out as it battered its face into the door. Yet it seemed unfazed. ____What kind of chemical does this to a man? Thomas questioned, He’s like some kind of zombie… Yeah, exactly like a zombie! This can’t be real… ____He turned his back to the door and slumped down onto the couch, I’m moving out. This can’t be happening to me. Not now… What am I supposed to do? ____The pounding at the door continued and continued for a long time, Thomas just sitting there on the couch staring blankly forward, out the window. What else was there to do? The banging at the door went on, the sirens kept on wailing, the voices on the TV continued to ramble. ____Well, I’m safe in here at least. What else is there to do but wait it out? ____He turned and laid down on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Trapped, with a killer inches away on the other side of the door. And still tired. Closing his eyes, Thomas laid there in silence waiting it out. Maybe he’d doze off and fall asleep. Or maybe he’d wake up. ____After a few hours, Thomas did drift off for a bit. When he awoke, he was dismayed to discover the corpses were still on the floor of his apartment. The smell of blood permeated the air, awful. Disappointed in the event not being a dream, Thomas sat up and glanced around the room, listening intently. The banging at the door had stopped. The TV had dropped the narration in exchange for a deep buzzing sound. ____“Damn.” Thomas said groggily, getting up and pacing around the room. ____Outside he could faintly hear the sounds of further commotion. Screams and bangs and the buzzing of distant helicopters and planes. He was still trapped in this hellhole. ____Thomas just kept right on waiting, unsure what to do but otherwise unwilling to leave his apartment. The only motivation came in the form of a feminine scream, coming from the floor above. ____It sounded faintly familiar. Angie? Her room was on the third floor. In the chaos and shock of the incident he had already forgotten about her. Surely there was no way she could have survived all these hours with these monsters running about? Or was that nagging cowardice begging him to stay safe in here? No, he’d have to go out eventually. He couldn’t count on anyone coming to get him, and he was without food in preparation for his move. He had to get out of here, if not now then eventually. And if Angie was still alive she needed his help. Thomas grimaced at the thought of these creatures devouring her and summoned his courage. ____Taking another deep breath as he approached the front door, Thomas advanced with all the slowness he could excuse himself with. It would be easier just to sit it out in here. Safer too. He had no idea what was out there. The closed door seemed ominous, if for no other reason than what he feared to find beyond it. Best to just leave it closed. No, he couldn’t. He had to leave. Thomas was so focused on it that he nearly tripped over the bodies on the floor as he passed them. ____He muttered a curse under his breath and got back up, spotting something in the open mouth of one of the corpses. ____“Huh? What’s this?” A little white rectangle, soaked in spit. It was out of place. Reaching down, Thomas slowly, slowly grabbed the object and pulled it out, “What on Earth?” ____It was a crumpled up piece of paper, two to be exact. Why was it in this guy’s mouth? Thomas could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen anything in the monster’s open jaws before—and he’d had a pretty close look. ____Opening the paper, Thomas looked at both pages. Both were crumpled and faded, but blank or at least indiscernible. They were white and torn on one side, as if ripped from a book. ____It’s such a strange feeling. They’re just blank pieces of paper, but they feel like they’re important to someone. Somewhere. He thought, wondering what possessed him to reach that outlandish conclusion. ____Thomas eyed the papers for a second or two before putting them in his pocket, unsure what to do with them, “Not the weirdest thing I’ve seen today, I guess.” Quote:
____The banged up door breathed a sigh of relief when moved, creaking loudly as Thomas opened it. He peeked out into the hall, finding it empty save for a blood splatter on his welcome mat from where the zombie had been banging on the door. The blood soaked in the carpet had a little trail leading to the stairs. Thomas felt another wave of dread overcome him as he spotted a shadow on the wall by those steps. The sickening sound of crunching was coming from there. ____A noise made Thomas jump, the sound of a second scream coming from the floor above. He glanced to the ceiling, now unwilling to go downstairs or up. Maybe he should just hide inside for a bit longer and hope the authorities would fly in and take care of everything. But this was no isolated incident. He had heard several cities named on the television. What if this was global? What if the authorities couldn’t fix this for him? The way things seemed to be right now, the only one he could truly count on was himself. ____He stepped out of his apartment, closing the door behind him. ____The messy and grotesque sound of raw eating continued from the stairs leading down, accompanied by footsteps and moaning. Thomas didn’t like the sound of that—it meant danger and probably lots of it. Gripping the wrench, he moved in the opposite direction and took the stairs up, advancing to Angie’s apartment room. ____There was a single zombie in the hall, staggering its way along slowly, head limp and bobbing as it moved. Thomas faintly recognized this man as one of the tenants here. He raised the wrench as he neared. He knew the man. He moved close and swung the tool down hard, throwing blood onto the walls as he struck. But he didn’t know him well. ____Groaning as its skull was dented, the zombie collapsed to the floor, slowly reaching for Thomas’ leg and opening wide. Thomas stepped back and kicked it squarely in the teeth. Bad move, perhaps. What if his shoe tore and he got bit? He yanked his foot back and began stomping the creature’s head. Finally a sickening crush signaled the second death of the monster, Thomas sighing with relief. ____Heart still pounding, he moved on ahead, looking left and right sporadically. The sirens and occasional faint explosions in the distance made it hard to listen for footsteps, and he wasn’t sure if one of the doors would pop open without warning, spilling zombies into the hall. Doors on both sides and with the knowledge of zombies behind him downstairs, Thomas moved quickly and with a sense of panic. ____Angie’s door was open, Thomas entering the apartment and looking around. It was a dainty little place filled with light but ugly colors—gaudy in an old-fashioned but endearing way. Wrench raised, he searched the few rooms of the apartment, finding nothing but a large bloodstain in one of the rooms, soaking the carpet. ____“Sh*t…!” Thomas muttered. He shouldn’t have hid in his apartment without finding her first. No, he had been unprepared for the sudden attack and did what his shaken senses told him to do on the spot. He couldn’t blame himself for this. But damn. He closed his eyes and muttered more curses, only brought back to the present by the sound of fast approaching footsteps. Heavy and inconsistent ones at that. They were coming up the stairs. ____Thomas ran out into the hall, finding six or seven zombies coming down the corridor toward him. No way was he wrenching his way through that. Thomas turned and bolted away, hurrying up the next flight. ____Damn! Just going up’s not going to get me out of here! He thought as he fled, Wait! The fire escape! Of course! ____Sprinting for the window at the far end of the hall, Thomas ran as fast as his legs could carry him, dodging zombies in the way and not stopping for anything. ____Crash!! He threw himself through the thin glass, shattering it and landing on the rickety fire escape with only a handful of cuts. Getting to his feet, Thomas stared down the pursuing pack of zombies as they caught up and reached through the window, their arms groping in the air for him. Too clustered to fit through, thank God. ____Hurrying down the ladder, Thomas made his way down the fire escape. His breathing was heavy—he was no athlete—but it felt rewarding to simply be out of danger here. Truck down below, Thomas dropped down from the fire escape and landed hard on the concrete. It hurt to fall that far but he recovered quickly, getting into the vehicle and flipping the ignition. The old truck roared into life. ____He was out of here. ~TAF TAF was the Storyteller... in THE ENEMY'S LAST RETREAT Last edited by TheAverageFan; March 17th, 2022 at 06:22 AM. Reason: Fixed typos (thanks TGRF)
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#5
November 1st, 2016, 03:46 PM
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Re: THE MOON HAS WINGS - a zombie story
*TGRF arrives. Once the masquerade is finished, it will become evident exactly what this means.*
Just read the prologue. Looking good, TAF. The obligatory grammar criticism is a 'coming' where there should have been a 'come.' I have since lost track of it. I thought you did the infiltration scene well. I could see it like a movie scene in my head, guns raised, the figures moving steadily through the building. Keep it up. ~TGRF. Go to my website to read my fan fiction!
Writing Status: Developing...
Spoiler Alert!
Contest Entry: Assembling... Archmage of Feylund: Identifying and fixing final issues... The Next Story (temp title): Considering potential stories... Novels: Considering Eighth Iteration (assessing potential)... Writer Notes: Issues: Crunched intros, undeveloped antagonists (fix via antagonist being external representation of Lie, also being present and personal), squished content (fixed by subplots), convenient endings (caused by plot-superfluous conflicts/actors which demand endings - examine all points of resolution to check for convenience) (Show vs. tell, lack of airtight detail). Investigate ability to show background, motivation, and personality through dialogue voice. (BYU-BS). Double-test amping tension - should have no problem with this.
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#6
November 1st, 2016, 03:47 PM
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Re: THE MOON HAS WINGS - a zombie story
 Quote:
... Which was ironically plagiarized from the then-convenient copy of Eragon I had handy... ~TGRF. Go to my website to read my fan fiction!
Writing Status: Developing...
Spoiler Alert!
Contest Entry: Assembling... Archmage of Feylund: Identifying and fixing final issues... The Next Story (temp title): Considering potential stories... Novels: Considering Eighth Iteration (assessing potential)... Writer Notes: Issues: Crunched intros, undeveloped antagonists (fix via antagonist being external representation of Lie, also being present and personal), squished content (fixed by subplots), convenient endings (caused by plot-superfluous conflicts/actors which demand endings - examine all points of resolution to check for convenience) (Show vs. tell, lack of airtight detail). Investigate ability to show background, motivation, and personality through dialogue voice. (BYU-BS). Double-test amping tension - should have no problem with this.
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#7
November 7th, 2016, 07:28 PM
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Chapter 2
Sorry I'm late. It's been a while, but hey, this and that and various excuses. Chapter Two time!!
Spoiler Alert!
 2 Evac ____Operation Urban Retrieve, 15:47, Chicago, IL ____The only thing louder than the whirring of the helicopter blades was the heavy Electronic Music Ranston had blasting over it. Regardless of orders, he always played that music on any Going Loud mission, and even in these dire circumstances there was no exception. Even with headsets, screaming was needed to overcome the noise. ____“We reach LZ in five!” Ranston shouted to the other passengers, the helicopter swooping in low between the tall Chicago buildings. ____Thorn held his M4A1 tightly to his chest, legs dangling over the side of the Little Bird Helicopter. There were multiple packs of all kinds of aircraft flying over the city alongside them, countless teams of military and National Guard deployed in response to the sudden emergency sweeping the nation. Army, Marines, Special Forces, it didn’t matter much. If they were available they were here. ____Thorn could see his reflection in the glassy windows of the buildings they passed. It had been a while since he had been back in America. He just didn’t think he’d still be in military gear. No rest for the wicked indeed. ____Sgt. Header leaned over to him, seemingly having the same thoughts about the situation, “We stop a nuke for this? It just never ends, does it?” ____“It does.” Thorn figured, “When we’re dead.” ____“Apparently not anymore from what I’ve heard.” ____“LZ approaching!” Lt. Moore shouted over the music and roaring blades, “Teams of five, building sweeps!” ____Their pack of Little Birds alighted upon one of the shorter buildings, the three of them and the other squad members dismounting the helicopter and raising their weapons, keeping an eye out for any infected. Others remained on the helicopters, loading sniper rifles and light machine guns. They’d be offering support from the air. ____Thorn kept his gun leveled, peering through the scope and looking for any threats. He wasn’t sure what to expect. All he knew was that a single mistake could be the end of it. No getting off with just a wound this time. He had been lucky before. ____They all felt heavier, each man equipped with all the extra ammo they could carry, as well as additional rations and first-aid kits. The higher-ups were prepared for a slog against this new threat. If any of them were separated, they could last. Or perhaps if they were killed a needy survivor could make use of their goods. ____Additionally they were allowed one personal item before being rushed out here. Thorn had a straight razor: cut-throat. Header had a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, the addict. Moore brought a calculator. A goddamned calculator. ____Lt. Moore nodded his approval of the LZ’s security and radioed in, “General Tandom! Lt. Moore, Foxtrot Team reporting in!” ____“I hear you.” General Tandom replied, innumerable other voices calling out from countless monitors in front of him at the command center. It was almost more chaotic in here than it was on the streets, people scrambling to and fro delivering hasty orders and a constant stream of new developments. Above the General, Commander Grimm had his own set of monitors to watch and phone calls to answer. ____Tandom sighed and rubbed his temples. He had woken up on the wrong side of the bed today. That was more or less his excuse throughout life. Today of course it seemed the whole world had woken up wrong. Woken up to a problem it didn’t know it had. ____“You all have your orders. Save who you can while you can. Evac choppers will run routes at designated LZ points only. I’ll keep you up to date as we find out more.” He commanded, turning to an aide by a large staticy screen, “Do we have contact with Dr. Brett’s team yet?” ____“He’s coming on now, sir.” The screen sparked to life, an exhausted looking man in a stained lab coat appearing soon after. Behind him similarly dressed men scrambled about in a fashion similar to the scramblers here. Panicked haste. ____“Good. Tell me something I wanna hear, Doctor.” Tandom said. ____Dr. Brett shrugged, “We’re doing all we can, sir. It’s an entirely unknown strain. We’re grasping at straws here.” ____“Well find the needle.” ____“I’m on it. We’re still figuring out the samples we’ve managed to collect so far. We won’t know the facts until these attackers have fully played their hand.” ____The General leaned back and scowled, “You mean to say there’s more to it than just the chemical explosions?” ____“We suspect that may just be a triggering agent. It’s entirely possible that we’ve been poisoned for months now without even knowing it. It might even be airborne. You can’t build a metal detector for an element that’s not on the periodic table.” ____Tandom stroked his chin, eyeing all the monitors in front of him. News coverage, maps showing affected areas, military gun cams, and street cameras, all showing the same thing. A monstrous disease spreading chaos at an alarming rate. The General reached for his radio, turning to Dr. Brett again, “Get everyone unaffected out while you can, gentlemen. As for the infected…” ____Dr. Brett sighed and shook his head. Tandom continued. ____“Shoot to kill.” ____“We’re on! Weapons free!” Lt. Moore commanded, shouting at the squad over the roar of the music, “Get any unaffected civvies back to this Landing Zone ASAP! Shoot to kill anyone infected. There’s nothing we can do for them right now!” ____Thorn wavered at the order. “...Yes sir.” ____The Lieutenant began leading the way toward the stairs down, still issuing orders, “Sweep these buildings! No stone left unturned! Gas masks on for chemical areas! And no matter what… don’t get bit!” ____“Yes sir!” ____“They might not want your rotting brains, but I intend to get out of here alive! Now move it!” Moore kicked down the door and entered the building, turning his under barrel flashlight on as he walked in. ____Header stepped back, letting Thorn go in ahead of him, “Check your corners, kid.” ____“Sir yes sir.” Thorn replied, turning his flashlight on and cautiously moving forward. It had only been a few hours since the outbreak had occurred yet this place was already in shambles. The humble offices were in tatters, things knocked over and blood staining the floor in several spots. Infection spread by bite moved a hell of a lot faster than he thought, especially in such a densely populated area not expecting it. ____Broken glass cracked under his boot, Thorn glancing down. A scream immediately called his gaze back up. Company already. ____Five zombies barreled into the hallway, charging straight toward the squad. Thorn and the others raised their weapons, assessing the threat in a second, and blasted away. The hallway lit up in gunshots, the single fire of Thorn’s M4A1 cracking the air in loud pops while the drumming triple burst fire of Header and Moore’s M16s kept the walls in a constant glow. The infected corpses dropped to the ground, heads burst. ____“Contact!” Header shouted, pointing to the other squad members, “Clear the building! Teams of two!” ____Thorn moved on ahead, the others fanning out and hastily scouring each room. More screaming and gunfire soon followed. Grimacing, Thorn turned each corner, ready to face more enemies and hoping to find survivors. No sign of the living yet. It was grim in here. ____“Any leads?” Moore shouted to him in the distant background as he searched the floor. Thorn responded with two gunshots to attacking zombies before shouting back. ____“No survivors here. Floor cleared!” ____“Roger. Keep moving.” ____Thorn opened the door to the stairs, immediately greeted by another zombie. The monster stumbled into him, this one more of a shambler than a sprinter, Thorn quick to catch its prying teeth with his rifle. He shoved it back and kicked it away, watching it tumble down the stairwell. Its neck snapped on the last step, Thorn putting a bullet through its skull just to be sure. Breathing a short sigh of relief, he promptly hurried down the steps. ____The next floor was just like the first. Thorn and the others methodically swept through each and every room, peered around every cubicle. Through the windows the Corporal could see other teams moving through nearby buildings as well. Shining flashlights and bright gunfire lit up the end of their weapons. There were no shortage of zombies for anyone. Thorn winced as he saw several of the monsters pour out from an open door and bring a man down. His rifle fired into the air as they clambered on top of him. ____Glancing down, he could see that most of the chaos was still unfolding in the streets. People scrambled madly about down below, making it very difficult to tell who was infected or not. It was easy to forget just how many people there were in the city, easy prey for these creatures even hours after the incident. They needed to get moving. ____“I see survivors down on the street!” He called out, “We need to get down there.” ____Moore glanced out the window, “Yeah, affirmative. Golf team, keep sweeping this building. I don’t want a single zombie anywhere in our LZ area.” ____“Yessir.” About a third of the group moved on, continuing to clear out the building while the rest waited on the Lieutenant’s orders. ____“General, I’m seeing survivors still on the streets. Lots of zombies down there. Do we have any armor?” ____Tandom’s reply came a few seconds late, the General up to his eyeballs in other reports and orders, “Negative. Armor’s still on main street and covering the highways. You’re on your own. Check Ranston for air support if you need those roads cleaned.” ____“Roger that. We’ll make-do.” Moore glanced back to Thorn and Header, “Let’s move.” ____The rest of the squad hurriedly made their way out of the building and onto the street. Out here the cry of the sirens and whirring of helicopter blades was loud and droning, only disrupted by distant gunshots, explosions, and screams. ____Immediately zombies were upon them, Header raising his M16 and peering through the scope on its rail. Each burst of bullets felled a zombie with impeccable accuracy. Thorn knelt by his side and tried to cover his flank as the undead approached them. He smirked as he watched Header fire. The Sergeant’s hands weren’t shaken in the slightest by fear or confusion. Nothing ever got to that guy. ____Other squadmates covered their nine o’clock, spraying into the masses of zombies with submachine gun fire. Header lowered his weapon and reloaded, calling out to some civilians still caught alive in the chaos, “U.S. Military! Come here! Evac helicopter is on the way!” ____As if on cue, a double-rotored Chinook flew overhead, landing on the building the team had just secured. Header continued waving the survivors over, many running across the street desperately trying to dodge zombies in their way. ____“Smith, escort!” Moore commanded, the squad member lowering his weapon and helping the people inside and up the stairs. ____“Thank you!” One shouted tearfully at Header. He nodded, unfazed by the desperate sincerity in their voice. Thorn smiled again. Nothing got to that guy indeed. ____He moved further down the street, continuing to fire down the road as more zombies poured from the buildings. There were just more and more of them. ____“You! Army man! Help!” A woman cried out, Thorn lowering his weapon and spotting her at the far end of the road by two crashed cars. ____“I’m here! Get to that building. You’ll be safe there.” He shouted, hurrying to her side. ____“My husband! He’s… Do something!” She pointed to a zombie crammed by the car door, struggling to free itself. She paced back and forth panicked, keeping away from the other zombies but unwilling to leave his side. ____“He’s…!” Thorn shouted over the gunfire, both of them jumping at the sound of another explosion not far off, “Just get to the building! There’s a chopper there to get you out of here!” ____“I can’t leave him! There’s got to be something you can do! Please!” The woman’s voice was laced with the same stinging desperation as the other survivor’s. Thorn closed his eyes, wincing at the thought of what this lady’s day had been like up until this point. She just needed a break from this hell. ____That motivated his words before he could think about it, “He’ll be okay. You need to get out of here. I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry!” ____She seemed torn but believed him in her shock, “O…Okay…” ____Running off, she entered the building, guided by Smith. Thorn watched her disappear, thrust back into reality and backing away from the cars as more zombies closed in on him. He was too far off from the rest of the squad. ____“Sh*t.” He turned to go but glanced back at the woman’s undead husband. He was still there, beyond saving, slowly worming his way out of the car’s grip. Thorn shakily raised his M4 and continued backing off. They said shoot to kill. But maybe there was a way… No… She was gone now. ____The zombie broke free, getting to its feet and beginning to walk forward slowly, arms extended. Thorn braced himself and shot it dead. Bang!! The corpse fell to the ground, head splattered and bleeding. ____“Move it Corporal!” Lt. Moore shouted, “We’re going up this street. Don’t get shredded by the air support!” ____The booming Electronic music returned with the Little Bird Helicopter, Ranston carefully guiding the machine down low between the buildings. ____“Ask and thou shalt receive!” Ranston shouted, his voice followed by the harsh buzzing of heavy machinegun fire. Zombies across the main street fell apart in tatters as the bullets burned through them. Snipers leaned over the side of the helicopter, taking any shot they could get at spare undead on the street or inside the buildings. ____Two by Thorn dropped dead, heads popped, snapping him back to reality a bit. He hurried to Header’s side, the remainder of the squad moving along the street with the helicopter at their backs. ____“Next target is that office there.” Moore pointed down the road as they advanced. ____“If we make it. I didn’t think there’d be so many of these things.” Header grunted. ____Thorn scoffed, trying to get back into the swing of things, “Old man, if there’s too many zombies then why aren’t you using your AA12 right now?” ____“I’m saving it. Only gave me two clips.” He replied. ____“Saving it for what?” ____“The unexpected.” ____More zombies and civilians awaited them at seemingly every block. The squad stayed low and kept to the side of the buildings to avoid the crossfire of other teams down the street, mowing down any monsters in their way and calling out to any survivors nearby. It went on and on, and try as they might, there was no forcing order onto this chaos. ____A wild-haired man leapt on top of a car, shouting at the scrambling civilians around him, “I warned you! Repent! I was right! Nothing can save us now!” ____He spotted the squad and pulled out a revolver, firing it into the air, “This is your doing! Death to the corrupt governments!” ____He fired again, quickly but clumsily, the bullet striking Lt. Moore in the shoulder, grazing his flesh as well as the radio he kept there. Thorn quickly aimed and fired two shots, one piercing the crazed man’s chest and the other drilling into his eye. He was dead. ____Thorn grimaced as he rushed to Moore’s side and hastily retrieved his first aid kit. He just shot and killed an American citizen, the ones he had sworn to protect. He had only ever wanted to save one bullet for any particular American, but that seemed so far off now compared to his present. He had technically been killing them left and right for the past hour now. ____“I’m okay, I’m okay…” Moore insisted, brushing Header away as he tried to assist. ____“You’d better be if you say so.” Header said, his way of being concerned. He pointed his rifle toward the building, “We’re here. Let’s move.” ____It was a tall building, their target, likely full of people at the time of the outbreak. Without a flat roof there was nowhere for any helicopter to land. That meant scouring up then down if they wanted to find and evacuate any survivors still in there. ____For some reason the lights were off in this office building despite it being open on the day of the attack. It seemed like the deck was stacked against them for that. Certainly the zombies didn’t cut the power, so who did? Thorn remembered that all of this had been orchestrated. Those explosives hadn’t detonated themselves. Whoever was responsible could still be out there. He didn’t like that idea. Flashlights on. Gun at the ready. ____The squad had thinned more and more as they moved away from the LZ, spreading out to cover the buildings and streets and to guide survivors back to the evac zone. Now there were only five of them left compared to around twenty-five earlier. Less eyes to watch all these corners and shadows. ____“Lobby’s empty.” Sgt. Header reported, “Folks on the higher floors might still be trapped up there.” ____“It’s a possibility.” Lt. Moore acknowledged, checking his radio, “Ranston, do you read me? Can you pull back to our position and check those higher floors?” ____“I sure can, over.” ____“Good.” Moore raised his rifle and nodded to the stairs, “Up we go. Thorn, take point.” ____“Yeah.” Thorn took the lead and went up the stairs, aiming his M4 around as his flashlight checked every corner of the room. He was unsure where the zombies would go if there were no humans around, if they would hide. Best to check everywhere for now. ____They went up several floors before finding anything, a large crowd of zombies consolidated in a single area. Moore frowned as the horde turned and faced their little group, quickly radioing in again, “Take it back, Ranston. Can you drop down to floor five?” ____“Front of building?” ____“Yeah.” ____“Roger.” ____“Here we go again.” Moore raised his rifle and opening fire, the triple bullets of the M16 ripping through multiple zombie heads with each burst. Header joined in, the two slowly tearing a path through the undead crowd. ____“Watch out!” The door behind them burst open seemingly out of nowhere, more zombies flooding the room and swarming about. The squadmate at the very back turned and fired, and was lost in the crowd. Thorn whirled around and began firing indiscriminately, his back pressing against Header’s. ____“Sh*t! Move!” Header shouted, the group advancing and continuing to fire, “Move between these desks!” ____The four soldiers bunched together and did just that, hastily working their way around the office room while the mass of zombies clumsily made their way toward them. Header and Moore paired up at the front, picking off the closest undead as they approached, while Thorn stuck with the final squad member—Corporal Rondo—and did the very same to the second group of zombies approaching from the back. Shooting the nearest and fastest of the monsters kept them at bay. There were plenty more zombies than there bullets, though. ____“Cavalry’s here!” Fortunately the sound of booming music soon returned, Ranston’s helicopter flying down and hovering beside the building. The snipers on the side of the Little Bird wasted no time, picking off zombies too close to the squad as they moved. Windows shattered with every bullet. ____It was dangerous and evasive work. Some zombies walked while others ran, making corralling them around the desks difficult. Thorn picked each shot carefully, keeping his back to the windows and praying that the snipers wouldn’t accidentally blow his head off with a misplaced bullet. ____Slowly but steadily, the four remaining men took the long way around the open room, keeping the nearby zombies at bay long enough to evade the whole. Header made it to the door at the end of the room first, opening it and holding it for the others. ____“We’re good. Shut it!” Thorn was the last out, helping the Sergeant slam the door shut and lock it. The limp pounding of countless undead hands hammered away at it, but fortunately to no avail. ____Moore called his thanks to Ranston and nodded drearily down the next hall, “Okay. Keep going.” ____Luckily this hall was empty, Thorn taking the time to catch his breath. Still on edge, he carefully peered through each dark office room while panting. All void of zombies. ____“Clear.” ____“Clear. No survivors. Stairs.” Moore led the way. ____The group continued on when the power jumped back to life unexpectedly. A printer in one of the rooms randomly turned on by itself, most of the other machines remaining off. Everyone jumped at the jarring noise and turned, guns pointed. ____Thorn sighed, “Jeez. All things to spook me that bad today and it’s a damn printer.” ____“Hold on…” Header walked over, eyeing the machine carefully as it continued printing a page. He stared at the paper as it crawled out inch by inch, slowly revealing itself. The Sergeant just stared, “That’s…” ____The printed page was entirely taken up by a single picture and some text. The picture was of a middle-aged woman and a young girl, around twelve or so years of age. Thorn walked over and glanced at it curiously. ____“That’s my family.” Header noted, unsure what tone to use in his confusion. ____He picked up the paper and stared at it. The text was a single sentence in big black bold letters: THEY DIDN’T MAKE IT. ____Thorn gazed at the page in equal confusion, jumping a bit again as the printer suddenly turned back off. Everyone else walked over and stood around their comrade in uncertainty. ____“Header…?” Thorn asked, looking at his friend. ____Header said nothing, his expression giving away no further details. Thorn didn’t doubt that he was feeling all sorts of things deep down inside, doubt, fear, sadness, confusion… But he was the kind of man who dealt with such things in silence. He didn’t need to say or show anything. ____“Sir?” Rondo questioned. ____“What is this?” Moore asked, “I don’t understand.” ____“…Neither do I.” Header said, “We don’t have time to dawdle. Let’s keep going.” ____Thorn nodded and turned to leave, spotting the Sergeant cramming the paper into his pocket out of the corner of his eye. How seriously he took the strange message Thorn didn’t know. But he was right. They didn’t have time to waste. ____The next few floors came and went, the team sparing their words as they shot their way through more groups of zombies. There wasn’t much to say, no survivors found, each member of the squad likely musing over what had just occurred with the printer, each still digesting it and figuring out what to say about it. If there was anything to say. Thorn figured it would hardly be the last of the day’s surprises and focused on the task at hand. Several floors up and still no survivors. Not great. ____Moore moved on ahead to the next office, grunting with pain as his shot shoulder continued to bleed. He looked as if the wound was the least of his worries though, sucking up the pain and searching the room. Thorn watched the Lieutenant’s six while he rooted through office files and checked computers. Unusual. ____“Sir?” Thorn called out, glancing over his shoulder, “There’s still more floors to go.” ____Moore pulled a flash drive out of a computer, “Sorry about that. Let’s keep moving.” ____“Incoming!” Rondo shouted, raising his submachine gun and firing down one of the halls. Thorn whirled around, already aiming. More zombies were coming down from the floors above, no shortage of the monsters spilling from an open door. The Corporal grimaced. Things were bad in this building. ____“Other way too!” Moore announced, open firing down the opposite hallway, where more undead were already coming, “On your six, Rondo!” ____One zombie grabbed Rondo from behind, mouth wide open. He ducked down low and flipped the zombie over him, shooting it dead before backing away from the second incoming wave. ____Moore and Header moved closer, both firing their M16s indiscriminately. Thorn stayed close, shooting down whoever they missed. Gradually the undead’s number waned once again, the squad regaining control of the room. ____Thorn sighed and reloaded, “It just never ends, does it?” ____“Sir!” Header shouted, facing Moore as his end was cleared of zombies. ____Another zombie rushed down a different hall, seemingly out of nowhere, and leapt onto Moore. The Lieutenant stumbled back, gun firing into the air as he struggled with the decrepit creature. Its teeth clamped about wildly as the two struggled. Finally Moore shoved the zombie back and, taking out a knife, lunged forth and stabbed it until it stopped moving. He stepped back as the monster fell lifeless to the ground, breathing heavily. ____“I’m okay.” He assured the others. ____“You sure?” Thorn cautiously asked. ____“Yeah… Let’s keep moving.” He began walking on ahead. ____“Sir?” Corporal Rondo questioned. ____“What?” The Lieutenant said. ____“The back of your neck, sir…” Rondo pointed. ____Moore felt back, the bloody gashes of teeth marks embedded in his neck. He jumped a bit as he felt it, not in the pain but in the realization that the others had seen. Instantly he whirled around and faced the squad, raising his gun just as they did. ____“Don’t! Stop!” He demanded. ____Header immediately leveled his gun right back at Moore, Thorn and Rondo doing the same. It became alarmingly quiet as they stood off, guns pointing at each other. ____“Sir, you know there’s no going back.” Thorn advised. ____“I…” Moore backed up, “I know. Just don’t shoot me. Please.” ____“Don’t shoot us.” Header lowered his weapon at a snail’s pace, Lt. Moore doing the same a few seconds after. ____The Lieutenant raised his hands into the air, “I don’t want to die. Just don’t shoot me.” ____“You know there’s nothing I can do, sir.” Header said. ____“I know. I know.” Moore looked into the Sergeant’s eyes, “I guess you’re in command now. Take my radio. You’ll be in touch with the General that way.” ____The Lieutenant slipped the device off, dropping his gun and beginning to remove all the clips of M16 ammo and rations he had as well, handing it all over. ____He gave the flash drive to Rondo, “Better take this back to the evac chopper. They’ll be wanting it.” ____“Yes sir. What’s on it?” ____“I don’t know, but if the higher-ups think it’s worth taking the time to get amidst all this sh*t then I reckon it’s important.” Moore distanced himself from the others, unsure what else to say, “...Well... See you all later, I guess.” ____“See ya, Lieutenant.” ____With that, Moore stepped back and just quietly walked off on his own. Thorn slowly lowered his gun as the Lieutenant made his sudden leave. Again it was quiet. ____“What now?” Thorn asked, turning to Header. ____The Sergeant put on Moore’s radio, “Well, you heard the man, Rondo. Get that drive back to the evac chopper and call it a day. Thorn, you’re with me. As long as there’s still evacuees trapped in this town, our work ain’t over.” ____“Yes sir.” Thorn agreed. ____Rondo departed and the last two soldiers moved on ahead, doing their remaining work in silence. I'll probably try to have Ch. 3 up on Friday. Folks'll have more time to read on the weekends, after all. ~TAF TAF was the Storyteller... in THE ENEMY'S LAST RETREAT Last edited by TheAverageFan; March 17th, 2022 at 11:55 PM. Reason: Fixed typos (thanks TGRF)
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#8
November 11th, 2016, 08:02 PM
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Chapter 3
As promised, here is Chapter 3. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it:
Spoiler Alert!
 3 Commandeered ____Teeth sunk into flesh, blood welling up around them as they met. ____“Becky!” Brooke screamed, clumsily falling down and scooting back along the floor as the three zombies slowly advanced. One a friend, another friend eaten, she was alone. They were just walking back to the apartment when the sirens started. The chaos came before the explanations did. By the time they managed to get back to the room, these monsters were already in the building. ____ The zombies hobbled around in front of her, slow but nonetheless blocking the only door out. This couldn’t be happening. Why was it happening? Nothing else to do, Brooke simply curled up and clutched her head, shutting her eyes tight and begging for it all to go away. Rather, someone else showed up. ____ The door was flung back open, blinding brightness spilling into the dim room. A single man stood there, silhouetted in the light. He was thin and pale, and it was hard to tell exactly how old he was, but he was human and that was all that mattered. Brooke opened her eyes and stared at him, still shaking in fear of the zombies. The terrifying creatures didn’t even seem to acknowledge the man’s existence, ignoring him entirely as he stood there in the doorway. ____ From his dark clothes he withdrew a small black handbook, glancing at Brooke as he spoke with an unusual amount of carelessness given the situation, “Miss Beth Arnakis?” ____ Brooke looked from him to the undead monsters and back, unsure how to answer, “W-What? It’s Brooke now.” ____ “Age twenty-four. Legal Guardians Mr. Bobby Arnakis and Mrs. Fran Arnakis, correct?” ____ “The—the monsters…” ____ The man seemed unfazed, “I’m sorry, are they making you uncomfortable?” ____ From the darkness of his silhouette came an arm holding a pistol, followed by three deafening bangs. The trio of zombies fell dead, blood pouring from their opened heads. Unused to the loudness of gunshots, Brooke jumped and covered her ears. The man lowered the weapon and snapped his fingers repeatedly to get her attention again. ____ “Brooke. Brooke! Age twenty-four. Legal Guardians Mr. Bobby Arnakis and Mrs. Fran Arnakis, correct!?” ____ She was still shaken but nodded, “Yes! Yes!” ____ “Your real name. Beth. It’s not short for Elizabeth, is it?” ____ “N-No?” ____ “It’s not short for Bethany either.” ____ “What? What are you talking about? Who are you? What do you want from me?” ____ “I’m Nazar. I’ve been sent here by the V.A.C.C.” The man closed the book and put it away, “This place is dangerous. Come with me.” ____ Brooke sat up at stared at him, still confused, “Go with you?” ____ “Yes. We have to get out of here. You’re coming with me. If you need anything from this place take it now.” ____ She was still in shock but gradually it dawned on her that it was either him or the zombies. Internally slapping herself out of the stupor, Brooke leapt to her feet and rushed into the apartment’s bedroom, looking through all her stuff rapidly. Between her and her two friends hastily lobbing it all together, it was a needless mess. That strange man, Nazar, left his post in the doorway and followed her, watching, “Looking for a gun?” ____ “My guitar.” ____ Nazar stared with cold disbelief, “………What?” ____ “No matter what, stay close to me.” Nazar instructed as they moved into the hall, “And don’t expect me to carry that thing.” ____ Brooke hoisted the guitar case’s strap over her shoulder, “I’ve got it. What are we going to do about all these monsters?” ____ Nazar returned his gaze to all the zombies down the hall, “Just stay close to me.” ____ With that he began walking at a brisk pace, Brooke hurrying to keep up. She noted that they were getting alarmingly close to the zombies without Nazar raising his gun. Yet he just kept striding toward them without hesitation. ____ Miraculously the undead monsters simply ignored the two of them, allowing them to walk by without attacking. Brooke stared morbidly at the creatures as she moved hurriedly past, their empty eyes staring blankly ahead. Their mouths hung open, the teeth that had rent her friends apart gleaming with blood and spit. She stuck closer to Nazar and moved on, praying that whatever strange effect he had over them would last. ____ Nazar himself said nothing and kept moving, not bothering to explain himself to her as if she should already know how he was making this possible. Out here in the daylight he was just a young man with black hair, wearing a plain dark blue suit and carrying a gun. He had a strange necklace with a pendant shaped like a blue eye, but other than that there was nothing unusual about his appearance. Still, there was obviously something off about him. But as long as he kept the zombies at bay Brooke didn’t question it. Today the apocalypse had stepped in and told her this was her life now. There was nothing she could do but be swept up in it, hoping for the best. She just wished it would be over soon, but she had a feeling that it was just getting started. ____ Nazar led the way out of the apartment building and began walking down the street. The roads were in ruins, bodies and jammed cars littering the street. Helicopters flew in the distant air and the sounds of long-off gunshots littered the background noise. It was a warzone. Brooke stayed close and followed the strange man as he unflinchingly traversed the embattled Chicago terrain. ____ Still, regardless of the situation the undead continued to ignore their presence. Nazar in turn ignored them and continued leading the way down the road. As they walked the gunshots got louder. Further down the street men in military uniforms battled the zombies as the undead closed in from all around them. Nazar glanced at two of the soldiers moving across the street and flagged them down. ____ “You there!” He shouted, “Come here!” ____ The men approached, guns at the ready for the first sign of zombies. ____ “Identify yourselves.” Nazar instructed. ____ “Excuse me?” The older military man asked at the tone, “Citizen, you need to—” ____ “I am Nazar, from the VACC administration.” Nazar withdrew an ID and briefly held it forth, “And I outrank you, Sergeant.” ____ The man read the ID and straightened up a bit, “Oh. Sorry sir. I’m Sergeant Brysen Header, and this is Corporal Christian Thorn.” ____ “Current assignment, Sergeant?” ____ “Operation Urban Retrieve, sir. Evacuation of citizens and extermination of infected.” ____ Nazar nodded, “Good. Take this young lady to one of the helicopters. You’re dismissed.” ____ Header nodded to Brooke, lowering his rifle “Yessir. Right this way, ma’am.” ____ “It’s Brooke.” ____ “Yes it is, ma’am.” Header turned and began leading the way further down the street. Brooke cautiously began following him, Corporal Thorn right behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at Nazar, wondering why he wasn’t tagging along. Instead he had already turned and walked off in another direction without saying another word, still ignoring the zombies around him as he went. ____ She probably should have thanked him before he left. ____ “It’s just this way, ma’am.” Header assured her as they moved. Several zombie corpses littered the ground down this road, the military having cleared them out earlier. Yet more crawled out from the buildings and alleys. ____ “Cover your ears!” Thorn instructed, raising his rifle and blasting away those that neared the trio. Brooke kept her head low and stayed on the move, the bang of the gunshots and the screaming of the undead a good motivator. ____ “In here!” Header commanded, nearing a small office building and entering. Brooke followed suit, hoping he knew where he was going. It was a disaster of an office, papers strewn about and bullet holes embedded in the walls. But every zombie in here was already dead, and that’s what counted. Thorn stayed by the entrance, firing at the approaching undead and backing up slowly. ____ Header led Brooke up several flights of stairs, finally coming out onto the rooftop. It was bright and clear up here, the city almost seeming like its old self from above. Header looked around, a far less pleased expression crossing his face. ____ “Damn, where’s the chopper?” He cursed, reaching for a radio on his shoulder, “General, where’s the evac chopper for Foxtrot’s LZ?” ____ “We’re a little short on Chinooks, Sergeant.” General Tandom’s static-covered voice replied, “The last one ferried off about fifteen minutes ago. Didn’t you get the alert?” ____ “Negative. I’ve got a civvie here.” Header glanced at Brooke, “We need a helicopter stat.” ____ “That’s a no-go, Sergeant. We’re working every scrap of metal that flies to the bone as is. My hands are tied. Either hold out until we can spare one or skip town. We’re already down several LZs. It’s a bloodbath in the city.” ____ “Don’t you have it contained?” Header complained. ____ “Negative, Sergeant. We’re looking at at least some form of airborne virus here. Commander Grimm’s working on shutting down all air travel but between you and me it’s likely too late. No containment.” ____ The familiar voice of Comm. Grimm chimed in, “Header, if you’ve got a VIP evacuee I suggest you take it out of town. We’re busier here than a Chick-Fil-A opened on a Sunday.” ____ “Sh*t… Affirmative.” Header turned to Brooke, “Change of plans, ma’am. We’re leaving the city on foot.” ____ “What? How?” Brooke asked, staying close behind the Sergeant as he walked back down the stairs. ____ “Somehow.” He replied, calling out to Thorn, “We’re out of choppers, kid! Let’s move!” ____ “There goes my weekend plans.” Thorn smirked grimly, hastily cramming a new magazine into his rifle, “I hope you can carry that thing, miss. It’s a long walk out of the city.” ____ “I’ll do my best.” Brooke assured him. ____ “Might not have to. Let’s get us some wheels.” Header declared. ____ True to the General’s word, the further along the day went the worse things got. More and more zombies came out onto the street, teeth bloodied after a hard day’s work. The three moved as fast as they could, the two military men’s weapons doing increasingly little damage to the hordes as their numbers waxed. The gunfire decreased and the pace quickened. ____ The military had come out full force with all the men they could assemble in time. They had killed countless zombies and evacuated all they could. But guns needed more ammo, helicopters needed more fuel, resources and manpower were exhausted getting the civvies out alive. Now that most of them were gone, being stuck out on the street was a death trap. ____ “You staying alive back there, kid?” Header called out as he moved, firing into the zombie crowds that pursued them. ____ “I could be better. Hell, I’d put up with Ranston’s damn music for a bit of that heavenly air support right about now.” Thorn replied. ____ “Well we ain’t got that luxury. Try to save ammo. Looks like we might be stuck out here a bit longer than expected.” Header continued, “If we make it off the street, that is.” ____ Brooke pointed to a pickup truck inching along a one way street, trying to maneuver around the mess of wrecked cars, “There’s a truck!” ____ “Good eyes, miss!” Header raced over, raising his gun at the driver, “Sgt. Header, United States military! I’m commandeering your vehicle!” ____ “Sh*t!” Thomas muttered as the soldier fast approached. He tried to find a way to speed past them but was stuck worming his way between wreckage. Behind the approaching others he could see more zombies on their way. He didn’t have time for this. Of course, he wouldn’t have time for anything if he got shot. He held his hands up as the Sergeant came closer, “Okay, okay! Just don’t shoot me!” ____ “I’m only authorized to shoot zombies, terrorists, and assholes. Don’t be one of those and you’ll be fine.” Header lowered his weapon and raced to the passenger door, “Get in, everyone!” ____ “Excuse me, sorry!” Brooke got in first, her guitar case slamming against Thomas’ head as she sat in the middle seat. Header got in next, Thomas flinching every time the Sergeant’s M16 pointed his way. ____ Thorn leapt into the bed of the truck, opening the back window, “All good?” ____ “Good!” Header replied. ____ “Ow! Not good!” Thomas complained, struck again by the unwieldy guitar case as Brooke tried to make room for it. Making room, that was a laugh. The truck was old and not exactly meant for three people to ride up front. Thank God Thomas was a fairly skinny guy: Sgt. Header was as big and broad as you’d expect from an Army-type and the girl’s hips were wider than she’d probably like to be told. And the goddamned guitar. Why a guitar? ____ “Floor it, son!” Header shouted, snapping Thomas back into the action. Zombies were closing in fast in all the commotion. Thorn leaned over the side and began firing at the fastest ones. ____ The Corporal pounded the side of the truck, “Move!” ____ “I’m going!” Thomas did indeed floor it, the truck scraping by the adjacent cars and moving on ahead. Thomas winced at the sound of it but he knew the well-being of the vehicle was the least of his concerns. The road was a mess, drivers caught in the panic crashing their cars all over the place or being trapped behind ones who did so. They were easy prey for the zombies, as was anyone unable to navigate this maze of wreckage. ____ Thomas didn’t endure all this to die here, not while he still had the wheel. Gritting his teeth and expertly moving at just the right speed, he maneuvered the truck between cars, fitting it through narrow spaces anywhere it could. It wasn’t big for a pickup truck so it handled well enough in the tight corners of the messy street. Still the zombies were relentless. The more that gathered in pursuit of the lone vehicle, the more running zombies appeared. Thomas didn’t have enough road to just floor it and leave them in the dust. It was stop and go, a deadly game of red-light-green-light. ____ “Go right! Turn! Keep going!” Header instructed, body lurching forward and back at each sudden halt of the truck. ____ “I don’t need a navigator!” Thomas shouted back, “Nuts!” ____ A straight line of cars blocked the way, impassible, forcing Thomas to hit the brakes hard. Thorn slammed against the truck at the stop, looking over his shoulder into the left rear-view mirror, “Undead incoming!!” ____ “Nuts, nuts, nuts!” Thomas looked back, putting the truck into reverse, “Gotta back up to go left! Hold on!” ____ Now he floored it, the wheels kicking up debris off the pavement as they spun. Instantly the truck barreled back into the coming crowd of zombies. The bumper rammed those at the front, flinging them back and taking blood with it. Thorn held on for dear life, clumsily shooting with one arm at any zombies climbing aboard while the vehicle plowed. As the truck slowed the horde closed in, Thomas rolling up the window and Header shooting out his. Turning his attention back to the road, Thomas put the truck in Drive and hit the gas again, steering the wheel a hard 180 degrees left. ____ Screee!!! The truck flung itself back forward, arcing to the left as it turned and veered down a different road, speeding away from the zombies. Thomas sighed and grinned, happy to be alive. He’d had that feeling several times already today, but each new instance felt just as good as the last. ____ Of course, the burst of speed wasn’t going to last. This road was a mess too, the truck speed-bumping hard over zombie corpses and forced to slow down to evade more stopped cars. Even better, there were plenty of zombies here too. Thomas struck one with the front of the truck as he maneuvered between cars, the monster’s loose flesh happily throwing blood all over the windshield. ____ “Watch it!” Brooke yelled with alarm as the truck collided with another undead, her every move causing the guitar case to hit Thomas again. ____ “I’m trying my best!” He flipped the windshield wipers on, struggling to shove the case out of his face. Another car in the way. Another hard stop. Thinking quickly, Thomas threw it in reverse again and started driving around, the truck stopping to turn slowly at every crowded obstacle. More zombies closed in. ____ “Down that road! It’s clear!” Header pointed, “Armor must’ve cleared it out! That’s the safest route!” ____ “Going, going…” Thomas replied, turning the steering wheel one way and then another. ____ “Wait! Wait up!” A shrill voice suddenly called out as the truck made its sluggish way. It came from a gas station cramped on the street corner, surrounded by a wall of cars. Out ran a girl, couldn’t be more than 20, stuffing candy bars into a backpack. Her wavy hair was so red it was almost pink, bobbing in the air as she raced over. Her other hand held tightly to a red baseball cap with the word “STACEY” on it. Without hesitation she hurried to the side of the truck and lobbed her backpack into the truck bed, climbing aboard a second after, “Whew! Thanks!” ____ “Ow!” The backpack struck Thorn squarely in the face, knocking his helmet overboard as the truck picked up speed again. He moved the pack aside and pointed his M4 at the girl, “Hold on there! Are you bit?” ____ She brushed the gun out of her face and slapped him, “I am not! Don’t point that thing at me! Do I look like one of those monsters?” ____ “Ha! Is that how you treat a lady, Thorn?” Header shouted out the open window. ____ Thorn rubbed his cheek and said nothing, apparently defeated. ____ “The name’s Stacey!” The girl shouted back to the Sergeant. ____ “Sgt. Header! An’ this is Brooke. And this guy…” ____ “It’s Thomas. Thomas Santeri. Now hold on!” The truck had cleared the wreckage and was finally free to go a bit faster. Thorn and Header finally stopped shooting as the pursuing zombies were gradually left behind. Thomas made another hard left and headed for the open main road. The highway was down there. Way he saw it, if the “armor” Header mentioned had cleared this road, perhaps the expressway would be cleared too. Thomas made the turn and slowed as the road opened up before them. He prepared to floor it and get out of town scot-free. ____ “Wait! Wait!” Another voice called out. Thomas glanced at the mirror, spotting another survivor—a man—desperately trying to outrun a pack of sprinting zombies. This one wasn’t so lucky as Stacey, hounded down by that many undead. He wasn’t going to make it. Thomas only hesitated for a second, frowning grimly, just waiting for it to happen. He couldn’t take off while the guy still had a chance. That also meant he had to wait and watch him get eaten. ____ Jaxson had been running all day. It was both a sprint and a marathon, no time for rest and no time to be slow. Everywhere he turned the undead gave chase. They did not tire like he did. They had already outrun or outlasted the other fleeing civilians in the explosion. He’d be next. But not if he could catch that truck, “Wait!!” ____ Sweat poured from every inch of skin. The pavement slammed against his feet. The zombies closed in. They didn’t care about sweat or exhaustion. They wanted him. ____ “You do what you were made to do.” His father had always told him, “You run. That’s your God given gift so you make the most of it. You run like nobody’s business. And if you get tired you just run it off.” ____ He was gone. He never had much life to begin with. He’d wagered what was left of his life for the sake of his son. They were poor. But Jaxson sure as hell wasn’t going to a poor school. He was going to live the way his father never got the chance to. He was going to run. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to die by being outpaced by some decaying lanky monsters. ____ They wanted him. They’d have to catch him first. ____ “Just wait!” Jaxson screamed at the truck. It sat there, mirrored eyes on him, inching along the pavement just waiting for the chance to take off. Jaxson focused on it and sprinted. His muscles were tired, but they were still muscles. Shouting all the way, he ran. The fastest zombies started lagging behind him as he went, the horde of monsters falling behind as he moved like nobody’s business. ____ “Holy hell.” Thorn said as the man sprinted toward them, “They can’t catch him. Look at that guy go.” ____ Sure enough, the fleeing man had suddenly gained an almost-unnatural burst of speed. He left the zombies in the dust, catching up and hopping aboard the truck in a single leap. Thorn reached out and helped him on. ____ “Damn.” The Corporal said, “That’s something, man. Have some water.” ____ The man nodded and accepted the container, chugging it down without a second thought. Finally he relented, gasping for breath, “Sorry, sorry. I’ve been forced to do that all day. Name’s Jaxson.” ____ “Pollock?” Thorn asked. ____ “De Ville?” Stacey followed up. ____ “Ha.” Jaxson replied, laying down on the truck bed amidst the moving boxes (the ones that had survived the trip anyway). Nothing felt so good as having something move for you after a hardcore sprint. ____ “Great. More passengers.” Thomas muttered, just relieved to keep driving. The truck lurched forth, picking up speed as it moved down the road. When the vehicle was actually moving at speeds fitting an automobile, he felt immune to the touch of the undead. No doubt being out of the city would help that. ____ “How far do you think?” Brooke asked him as he drove. ____ “Not far.” Thomas replied, “Glad I don’t live on the shoreline.” ____ “Are we taking the west or south way out of the city?” Header asked, scanning the roads. ____ “I’m thinking Expressway 94, to 57. South Dan Ryan.” ____ “Okay, good. Armor should’ve covered a street that busy.” ____ Jaxson sat back up at the words, crawling over and shouting through the truck’s back window, “No! Don’t take the Expressway!” ____ “What? Why not?” Thomas snapped. ____ “I just came from down there. It’s the worst place in the city right now! Everybody trying to get out all at once! The Army couldn’t keep them all back. It’s a disaster!” Jaxson explained. ____ “Well, sh*t.” Sgt. Header pinched his shoulder speaker, “General Tandom. General? …Well, sh*t!” ____ “What now?” Brooke questioned. ____ “I don’t know.” Jaxson replied, “I don’t know where to go.” ____ “Ditch the car at the city outskirts and go on foot?” Thorn suggested. ____ Thomas scowled, turning the wheel right as hard as he could, “Hell no! This is my car! Let me take 88 instead. It's closer anyway. We’re going west!” ____ The truck whirled around, Thomas flooring it and letting the vehicle speed off through the street. He was sick of this. He wanted out now. Cruising along, Thomas weaved between other vehicles and crashed into any zombies that dared get in the way. It was a bumpy ride, the truck thrashing its passengers around as it careened through the city streets. ____ “There! Exit!” Thorn shouted as the truck neared its alternative destination. ____ “Blockade!” Brooke alerted, pointing dead ahead. ____ There were several military personnel watching the exit, firing upon zombies nearing them and yelling at other cars struggling to escape the chaos. A simple fence cordoned off the one-way street the truck was taking. Thomas’ foot hesitated between the gas and the break pedals, glancing to Header. ____ The Sergeant nodded grimly, well aware of the containment situation, “Ram it.” ____ Screee!!! Thomas floored it, the truck plowing through the fence and rushing past the soldiers beyond. Men in hazmat suits behind the marines dove for cover as the vehicle drove by them. ____ Thomas hit the break and then the gas again as the truck sped up the exit ramp and onto the highway. He saw even the tiniest sliver of open road and hit it, putting as much distance between the city and them as he could. ____ Jaxson clutched the side of the truck as it lurched, “Are you nuts!?” ____ Header leaned back and chuckled, “We’re alive, is what we are. Get us out of here, Thomas.” ____ Thomas didn’t need any further encouragement, keeping the MPH needle at a minimum of 50. The expressways out of Chicago were a complicated mess, crashed cars and zombies making for numerous obstacles. Other escapees entered the highway anywhere they could, a semi truck careening past the pickup and taking a rear-view mirror with it. Another car threw itself onto the road from a street above, throwing up countless sparks as it crashed. Thomas grit his teeth and evaded the mad drivers as best he could, feeling like an action hero in a racing movie. Scrapes, splatters, the truck endured it all. But he didn’t crash—that was all that mattered. ____ The further he went the fewer cars and zombies there were. It seemed that the evacuation and blockades had done their work: the road was actually open down the line. Thomas took the exit of the most obscure road he could think of and just ran with it, taking the truck as far away from the city as he could. ____ Finally they were truly clear. Thomas stared at the open road ahead and breathed a deep sigh of relief. They were out. It was over, for now. Whew! And the truth is we're just getting started. Stay tuned and all that. ~TAF TAF was the Storyteller... in THE ENEMY'S LAST RETREAT Last edited by TheAverageFan; March 17th, 2022 at 11:55 PM. Reason: "followed suite?!"
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#9
November 19th, 2016, 07:09 PM
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Chapter 4
Ah, sorry I'm late. Things are a bit slow at the forefront at the moment but that's no reason to not release the already-finished chapters on time. This one's a bit shorter than the previous entries, but it matters little. Here's Chapter 4:
Spoiler Alert!
 4 Full Moon ____As soon as the road was open Thomas just took the truck as far as it would go. Chicago, no longer to be missed in these circumstances, gradually faded from sight as the group left it behind. The traffic and wreckage of cars also slowly waned, although zombies could still clearly be seen as they went. The undead had claimed the city and were already venturing out. Thomas grimaced at them as they drove by. He could only hope that the military had evacuated all they could. He didn’t even want to think about how many had been lost. Nothing in recent memory could measure up. It all seemed so quaint in retrospect compared to the destruction the sudden apocalypse had sown. ____ Everyone else seemed to share his downtrodden thoughts, nobody really saying much as the truck moved on. Six people: himself, Header, Brooke, Thorn, Stacey, and Jaxson. Six living people whose lives were now over. They had to pick up the pieces of whatever they could find in the wreckage of the world. This disaster wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. Thomas stared down the road on that thought, the setting sun directly ahead. He knew that the future down that sun-bathed path was drenched in uncertainty. ____ He fiddled with the radio, hoping to get a signal. The sound waves of the old truck’s crummy radio made awful high-pitched noises before settling on a staticy report. ____ “It’s now been over two hours since the last confirmed chemical explosion, perhaps finally drawing to a close what authorities are calling the largest terrorist attack in world history. Over one thousand chemical devices were detonated in cities across the globe within a single 24-hour span. A majority of the blasts came in densely populated areas in North and South America, Europe, the Middle East, India, China, and Japan.” ____ “Damn hell.” Sgt. Header said grimly, “That many?” ____ “How could intelligence not pick that up?” Thorn questioned, listening further as the report continued. ____ “Countless nations have declared a state of emergency, and the UN has declared that it is already working on setting up a committee to investigate the source of the chemical weapons. It is recommended that anyone still in infected areas find a designated Survival Zone. Avoid any contact with infected persons and avoid large groups. Emergency services will not be available in infected areas. Emergency broadcasts are on 24-hour loops. Remain indoors or at Survival Zones until the emergency is over…” ____ Thomas turned off the radio as the voice droned on, glancing at the Sergeant, “Should we try to find a Survival Zone?” ____ “You really think we should let the government handle this?” Jaxson spoke up, his voice filled with doubt and uncertainty, “They let all this happen, they couldn’t contain the city, what makes you think they’ll be able to keep us any safer in some ‘Zone’?” ____ “Now, easy there everybody.” Header said, “I ain’t been told about no Zones, but I reckon they’re probably emergency shelters or military bases. That’s probably the safest place to be. Commander Grimm and General Tandom are handling the emergency in the Chicago area—they’re very competent men—so I know they wouldn’t lead us astray.” ____ “So we drive to the nearest military base?” Brooke asked. ____ “It’s a ways off. As soon as I get my radio signal back—damn thing had to get grazed with Moore’s shoulder—I can contact the General. Now that Operation Urban Retrieve is over he should have a helicopter to spare to come pick us up. Simple as that.” ____ “Sounds good.” Thorn said, “Thomas, just take us somewhere where there won’t be too many zombies until that happens.” ____ “I’m trying.” Thomas nodded to the road, “I’m getting us out of Cook County now. Kane County has a lot of nature preserves. Shouldn’t be too many people there. Just gotta get through DuPage County first.” ____ “Great. You picked a good driver, Header.” ____ Thomas frowned, “I’m not a chauffeur. I’m an actor.” ____ “Wow, really? Movies or TV?” Brooke asked. ____ “Stage.” ____ As the sun said its goodbyes so did the truck, the piece of junk gradually slowing to a crawl and stopping, refusing to move any further. ____ “Aw, damn!” Thomas checked the fuel gauge, “I thought I filled this thing up not too long ago. Hold on…” ____ He tried to get it going again and again, to no avail. It was done for good by the looks of it. Glancing around the road, Thomas noted no other abandoned cars to take. Of course, now that they were stranded there wasn’t a vehicle to be found. ____ “If it’s dead, tell me it’s dead.” Thorn warned, turning his M4’s flashlight on and nodding toward further down the road, “Still more company incoming.” ____ The zombies around these parts were far less clustered than the ones in the city, but they were still there nonetheless. Fortunately there weren’t many sprinters amongst the lot, but their presence still demanded attention. ____ Jaxson and Stacey hopped off the truck. She grabbed her backpack and adjusted her baseball cap, “Let’s just get out of here. I’d like to not have any zombies on the horizon before going to sleep.” ____ “True that.” Brooke agreed as she got out of the truck as well, still carrying the guitar case, “Where should we go?” ____ “Most zombies are probably on the road. That’s just a guess.” Header figured, slinging his M16 over his shoulder next to his still untouched AA12, “Forest?” ____ Thomas sighed as he looked at his truck and all the moving boxes still in it, ashamed to have that wrench that wasn’t even his as the only possession he’d be hanging onto. He forced himself to get over it and nodded, “Yeah, forest.” ____ “Hope you all had plenty of time to rest. Put some distance between us and them!” Thorn said, turning and leading the way off the road. ____ “Hey, wait up!” Stacey raced after him, Brooke and Jaxson right behind her. Thomas glanced at Header, the Sergeant clearly intent on keeping up the rear, and followed the others into the nearby woods. ____ DuPage County had its fair share of forests, but it was still pretty well populated. Thomas figured that meant that the longer the zombie virus persisted, the more dangerous this place would become. For now they just needed to find a spot in the forest distanced far enough away from any roads or suburbs. ____ There were even fewer zombies in the woods compared to the highway, but the few that endured amongst the growth were sure runners. Thorn shined his light dead ahead as the trees overshadowed the dipping sun, firing his M4 only when necessary. ____ Bang! Bang! Bang Bang! ____ In the noise of the city battle the guns seemed insignificant. Out here in the quiet of the woods it was deafeningly loud. Thomas winced at the first few shots, still unused to the sudden noise so close. ____ “I hope these things aren’t attracted to that racket!” He shouted. ____ “No way of knowing for sure!” Thorn replied. ____ The Corporal made sure to only drop the runners, leaving the other zombies behind as the group stayed on the move. The terrain was dark and uneven, everyone falling victim to the occasional stumble. Still, they stayed close and kept to it, too fearful of the undead behind them to call it quits already. ____ The run gradually halted to a quickened pace as the night went on. Things slowly winded down to a less eventful finish as the day came to an end. After about twenty minutes of fleeing without sight of a zombie, Thorn finally stopped at a small clearing, catching his breath. He had run his fair share of laps all day, worn down by all the equipment he wore. What a long day. ____ “I think we’re good.” He said, “Have a watch, but I haven’t seen a zombie in a good while. We’ve gotta sleep eventually.” ____ “Say so. I’m exhausted!” Stacey dropped her backpack and collapsed. ____ “And I’m cold.” Jaxson added. He just had a T-shirt and shorts, “It just has to be the latter half of the year when this happens. Betcha winter’ll come extra early.” ____ “Risk a fire?” Thorn asked Header. ____ The Sergeant glanced at the others and nodded, “Yeah, sure. Civvies need a break. I need a smoke.” ____ He slumped to the ground, removing his helmet and running a hand across his shaved head before retrieving a lighter and his cigarettes, tamping the pack repeatedly. Thorn hastily gathered some brushwood and cobbled it together in the clearing, Header lighting it and then a cigarette. He took a deep breath, inhaling more than most would dare to, and leaned back, gradually blowing the smoke back out, “Ah…......” ____ Thorn slumped down across from him, listening intently for approaching footsteps but otherwise relaxing, “Long day, yeah? I burned through just about all my rifle ammo.” ____ “The Lieutenant gave me his. Missy-16 should last a good long while.” Header replied, sucking more smoke out of the cigarette as if he wanted to choke himself with it all. ____ “I don’t want this to last a good long while.” Thomas complained. He stared into the fire. The warmth and light seemed comforting, the quiet of the night helping too, but it only reminded him of all that had happened amidst the day’s madness. As things finally calmed down after the crazy last few hours, the sense of loss had begun to creep back in. That fire may as well be burning the whole world away for all he cared. All he could do was stare nonetheless, “It’s all gone. Everything.” ____ His words seemed to resonate with the others, everyone simply staring at the fire with thoughts tormenting their own minds. ____ “Dad…” Jaxson murmured, “He deserved better.” ____ “Becky, Alyson…” Brooke said quietly. One turned, the other probably too half-eaten to get back up. ____ Header took out that printed page and looked at it, the fire illuminating the two in the picture. He took that photo himself. It was framed at home, sitting on a dresser. THEY DIDN’T MAKE IT. ____ Stacey, sitting farthest from the fire, took off her hat and stared at it. She smiled brightly at it, no doubt brimming with happy memories, but her somber eyes gave away how she really felt inside. ____ “Mom…” She whispered, “Everyone…” ____ Doug, Liz, Walter, Jason, Ben, Rachel, Taylor, brother, sister, mother, father, cousin… the list went on and on. They all knew too many people to count. It was as if the bridges connecting them to all they knew were destroyed in a single blow, cut off from the world. The others’ fates were either unknowable or certainly gloomy. Death and doubt had taken them all in one fell swoop. ____ It grew quite silent around the fire indeed. ____ As the dreary silence dragged on Brooke quietly looked from one person to the next, noting the similar theme of depression on each face. She slowly picked up her guitar case and opened it, taking a plain and old-fashioned acoustic guitar out. With the simple brush of her fingers against the strings a low note echoed from within it. ____ Thomas glanced over, unsure what she was doing. ____ Brooke just stared straight ahead, an unusual look of conviction on her face. Her hand held the guitar steady, drumming out more notes. The pace of the music quickened, picking up dramatically. A single, steady beat. ____ As the slow music became more upbeat the others couldn’t help but glance over too. Brooke merely closed her eyes and continued to play, not paying the looks any heed. She just kept on playing, regardless of what anyone else thought. ____ Gradually the music grew on Stacey. The tune had a way of drawing her out from her somber thoughts. She couldn’t help but smile a bit, dispelling some of that miserable look permeating the group, and moved closer to the fire. Snatching up Header’s helmet, she rapped on it with her knuckles, clumsy improv following Brooke’s beat. ____ Jaxson sighed and murmured to himself, “Just keep running.” ____ He too ditched his slump and frown, sitting up straight and whistling loudly alongside the music. ____ Thorn smiled as the trio continued playing, quietly tapping the side of his M4 and subtly bobbing his head. ____ Thomas frowned at his tapping foot. ____ “Heh.” Header smirked amidst the smoke, tucking his picture away, “What is this? We singing Kumbaya now?” ____ “Don’t bother me—I’m moping.” Brooke replied. ____ The Sergeant grinned, ashes dripping from the tip of his cigarette, “Yeah, sorry about that, ma’am. I’m feeling much better now.” ____ After the brief performance Brooke abruptly stopped, holding the guitar strings until they were still. She held the instrument close in one arm and brushed some of her dark hair out of her face, “That’s why I lug this thing around.” ____ “Alright, alright.” Header conceded, “I’ll suck it up. It ain’t over till it’s over.” ____ “No use in wallowing.” Stacey agreed. ____ “It’s what they want.” Thorn nodded, “We shouldn’t give it to them.” ____ “Hmph.” Thomas doubted, “Poppycock.” ____ Thorn stared at him, “Did you just say ‘poppycock’? God, you are a stage actor.” ____ Thomas brewed up a whole slew of retorts but kept them far from his mouth. He knew that all they were doing was opiating themselves with good feelings to evade the truth of the situation. But he was tired and didn’t want to argue right now. Things were enough on edge already with the zombies. Only a bunch of complete idiots would start infighting now. ____ “No, it’s nothing.” He apologized, “It’s a good melody.” ____ Brooke smiled warmly, a clear sign that it was a tune of her own design seeking approval. She put the guitar back in its case and leaned it against a nearby tree, breathing a sigh of relief at the departing tension. They’d all sleep better for it tonight, save for whoever dared to volunteer to be the night watch. Both Thorn and Header knew they were disciplined enough for the job but kept that information to themselves should anyone else offer first. They were perhaps the most tired of all. ____ Jaxson sighed and shrugged, “I guess someone should stay up and watch us in case any zombies show up, right?” ____ “Yes sir, that’s correct.” Header affirmed. ____ Another sigh, “I guess I could do it. For the first few hours anyway.” ____ “Good man. Get you used to it anyway. Until we can make a tripwire or alarm of some kind, we’ll have to keep watch the old fashioned way.” ____ “Yeah, yeah…” Jaxson slumped against a tree, crossing his arms, “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up in four hours.” ____ Nobody wasted time getting comfortable. The two military men had one rolled up cover each, hardly a sleeping bag but more than dirt, which they gave to the two girls. Everyone else had the ground to contend with, but even then it was acceptable. Exhaustion had a way of making anything feel comfortable. ____ Thomas stayed close to the fire and closed his eyes. Sweet darkness. Just take me. Let this all be a dream, attempt number two. ____ Stacey’s voice pulled him right back kicking and screaming into the world of the awake before he could even drift off, “Oh my God! Look up there!” ____ Thomas sat up, frowning and glaring at her. She stared wide-eyed up at the night sky, pointing straight up. ____ “Huh? Wha…?” Thorn crawled over and glanced up at the inky blackness above. ____ “The moon!” Stacey said, “Look!” ____ Everyone peered up at what could be seen between the reaching trees. The moon was bright and full amongst the stars, just barely in sight behind the branches. There was something very strange indeed. ____ There were giant white wings, like a dove’s, four of them attached to the moon, each perpendicular from the other. One north, one south, east and west. They glowed just as brightly as the moon, as if they had always been a part of it. ____ “What the hell?” Thorn was dumbfounded, checking and rechecking to see if his eyes were just playing tricks on him, “I’m not the only one seeing this?” ____ “What are those, wings?” Header was equally at a loss. ____ They were. Unmistakably. Four enormous white wings on the moon. Just there, offering no explanation to those on the planet below. ____ “That’s—” Thomas began, “That’s not possible.” ____ “Do you think it means something?” Brooke asked. ____ “Like what?” ____ “I don’t know…” ____ Jaxson shrugged, “It probably means expect things to only get weirder from here. My God, it really is the end of the world, isn’t it?” ____ “What do we do?” Stacey questioned. ____ Header shook his head, “What can we do?” ____ “We can go to sleep.” Thomas decided, lying back down, “And hope it’s gone in the morning.” ____ He didn’t like looking at it. It gave him a bit of a headache and made him feel sick. After all, it just couldn’t exist. Now he knew for sure he was in some twisted dream. It was all a sick joke at his expense. It always was. The world was cast into madness, but sleep was always the same no matter what was happening. Sleep was his last shred or normalcy, so that was where he wanted to spend his time. ____ After a few minutes slumber overcame him. The day was over. Finally over. The winged moon watched them as they slept. Those who could. The plot thickens. It will continue to thicken! ~TAF TAF was the Storyteller... in THE ENEMY'S LAST RETREAT Last edited by TheAverageFan; March 17th, 2022 at 11:55 PM.
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#10
December 2nd, 2016, 08:54 PM
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Chapter 5
At any rate, I give you Chapter 5. It's a bit longer than the other chapters we've had so far, so maybe that'll help make up for delays.
Spoiler Alert!
 5 Others ____ Mom… it can’t really be true, can it? ____ Thomas awoke early the next morning, the buzzing of a hornet near him waking him up. He sat up and scooted away from it, startled, waiting for it to fly off. Disgusting things. Better a bug than a zombie though for a wake-up call. ____ Ugh, zombies. This was all still real. Yesterday was the last time he’d ever awake to a normal life. From here on out it’d be surviving the undead. The most he could hope for was that the military would get things under control. But that seemed all too optimistic—the opposite of reality. Best case scenario Header would flag down a chopper as promised and they’d get to spend the rest of their days living comfortably in a crowded bunker. It was either that or get eaten alive out here. Yippee. ____ Thorn walked around, having taken over Jaxson’s night watch a few hours ago, waking the others. A gentle shake for the civvies and a kick for Header, “Rise and shine, folks. Let’s hop to it.” ____ “Ugggh…!” Stacey hid under her cover, “What time is it? 4 A.M.?” ____ Thorn walked over, “Oh come on, it’s only 6. I let us sleep in because it was a big day yesterday.” ____ “SIX!?” She sat up, desperately trying to hold her cap over her eyes. She looked fifteen years older in the morning, hair wildly unkempt and eyelids heavy, “Oh God… Six…” ____ Thorn and Header smiled at each other, knowing the other was thinking the same sarcastic thing. ____ Thomas rubbed his eyes, plenty used to not getting enough sleep. He hated the mornings too, but like it or not this was their reality now. If they wanted to live, they’d better get used to it. ____ “Relax, little lady.” Header reasoned, “Way I see it, the longer we spend sleeping the more time it gives those undead bastards to catch up to us. I don’t think they take breaks.” ____ “Right.” Jaxson said. In spite of only getting half the hours of sleep, he looked more awake than any of them, already standing and stretching, “I don’t suppose we have anything to eat before we get moving?” ____ Those words woke Stacey up a bit. She sat up straight, picking up her backpack and opening it, “Breakfast does sound good.” ____ She emptied the contents of the pack, countless candy bars and toiletries spilling out onto the ground. ____ Thomas was unimpressed, “Chocolates and deodorant? Don’t you have anything more substantial?” ____ Jaxson picked up some toothpaste and stared at it with disbelief, “Well at least we’ll starve pampered.” ____ “I don’t see you two packing anything!” Stacey retorted, opening some chocolate. ____ “Relax, people. We’ve got rations.” Thorn said, checking his equipment, “MRE: Meal, Ready-To-Eat. Should last us until we can contact the General and get a chopper coming our way.” ____ The Corporal withdrew a couple small boxes, handing them out. Like with ammo and aid kits, they had been given all the sealed food they could carry. The boxes were unwieldy but nothing he couldn’t handle. His load would only get lighter the longer they were out here. ____ “Eat light.” He advised, “I’ve seen enough zombie movies to know we might have to make things last a while.” ____ Thomas had spent a lot of time locked in an empty room yesterday and had spent the rest of it driving around. So he was pretty hungry. Thorn opened the boxes and instructed them how to use the flameless heaters to warm the meal. The MREs were tightly packed with sealed food, none of it good but all of it getting the job done. He was hungry, it was the apocalypse, no use in complaining. He shared the box with Jaxson, having a candy bar afterward to top it off. They’d all have to get used to smaller portions as well. Thorn and Header had a lot for two people, not a lot for six. It was a brisk meal. ____ “Alright folks, get ready to move.” Header proclaimed the second they were finished, “I’ve gotta fix my radio, but in the meantime it’d probably do us good to get further away from the city. We need to find a clearing big enough for a helicopter. I only got one signal flare and I don’t wanna waste it.” ____ Thomas was uncertain, “What if you can’t fix the radio? You really think they’re going to notice a single flare?” ____ “Still a lot of birds in this area, I’m sure we’re bound to catch one sooner or later. Now follow me. Let’s get a move on.” ____ “Birds means helicopters.” Thorn added. ____ “Whatever you say.” Thomas said. ____ With that the Sergeant began trudging on ahead, leading the way onward. With no options but to follow his lead, everyone lined up behind him and the journey continued. ____ Feeling the need to splurge, Header crammed another cigarette into his mouth, the orange filter fitting in like a long lost tooth. He needed to stay strong and in control in front of the others—it’d give them the illusion of security in these dire times—and the habit was his own way of calming down inside in preparation for the undoubtedly long day ahead. Sweet relief. ____ He had a nasty tendency to chew the cigarette between his canine and premolar teeth, a carryover from his preferred cigars. With a quick flip of his lighter the cigarette became a miniature smoke stack, Header blowing out a quick puff and just letting it burn as he walked. Both he and his wife had been heavy smokers. It was a stale ashen smell, but it fondly reminded him of home. Of her. ____ It’d been a bit of a panicky run in the forest evading the zombies last night, so he was a touch lost as to their pinpoint location. But he knew the general direction. If they wanted a good clearing, heading back to the highway was the best bet. If nothing else, they might even be lucky enough to find another car. ____ The group stayed on the move, uneventful walking eating the hours away. Part of them undoubtedly enjoyed the chance to walk off their troubles and have some quiet after the explosive first day of the virus outbreak. It was bright and sunny out, and with no zombies in sight one might’ve almost forgotten about it all and just treat it as a nice hike in the woods. A day long hike in the woods. With strangers they just met. Because they’d been forced together by the apocalypse. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t easy to forget the dire circumstances, but at least there were no undead in sight. ____ Thomas stared dead ahead as he trudged onward, his thoughts remaining back in Chicago. His life was back there. He still had trouble digesting just how surreal his current situation was. But he had given up on it being a dream. He just had to learn to deal with it, whether he liked it or not. Try as one might to dispel reality, eventually it would catch back up. Life worked the way it did because reality said so. Presently it was saying that this was life now. Conform to it or die. And Thomas had no plans on dying any time soon. ____ It was a few hours walking through the woods, still moving away from the city, before the highway came back into view. Header peered out onto the wide road, taking out his M16 as he cautiously crept out of the brush. Thomas let him and Thorn go on ahead, certainly not forgetting that only two out of the six of them had guns. He still had his wrench though. So he moved out onto the highway after them, keeping his eyes peeled for zombies. Just in case he was needed. ____ The highway was still eerily quiet. It felt as if there should be at least some cars on the road, the lucky ones that got out of the city when they had the chance. There was only one car stopped on the highway, abandoned. Thorn walked over, opening the door and checking it. He shook his head, “Outta gas.” ____ “Probably the same fate as us.” Jaxson said, looking around curiously, “I thought there’d be more people on the road around here.” ____ Stacey climbed onto the car and, sitting on the hood, scanned the horizon, “Betcha the highways around Chicago are a disaster right about now.” ____ “It’s a miracle we got out when we did.” Brooke added, “Header, anything—” ____ “LOOK OUT!!” Stacey shrieked, pointing down the road. A bus came barreling down the highway, full speed ahead and with no regard for anyone in its way. ____ Everyone took one look and immediately bolted off the road. Stacey leapt off the car, the bus crashing straight into it a split second later. The crazed vehicle turned as it struck the car, swerving along the pavement and rolling along the road for several dozen yards before finally screeching to a halt. The awful sound of metal against asphalt shrieked horrendously. That noise droned on and on as it slid across the ground, soon followed by an eerie quiet as the bus finally stopped. ____ Silence and surprised, panicked breathing was all there was for a minute, Header finally creeping back onto the road and approaching the bus. He kept his rifle trained on the vehicle but his eyes over his shoulder and down the road, in case another car came speeding his way with little regard for speed limits. ____ Thomas couldn’t help but follow after the Sergeant. He didn’t know why, concern maybe, “Header, are you nuts? What are you doing?” ____ “Might be people in that thing.” Header replied, “I’ve gotta check. You’d better stay back.” ____ Thorn moved past Thomas and followed the Sergeant, M4 at the ready, “Keep an eye out, Thomas.” ____ The two soldiers neared the bus, the automobile on its side, wheels still spinning. Header approached the front of the vehicle. There was a giant splatter of blood on the front bumper, dried, and another on the inside of the windshield, fresh. That and the dent on the bus’ left side from crashing into the car said more than enough about the health of the driver. Poor bastard. Header frowned. ____ “I hear somebody.” Thorn noted from the rear of the vehicle. He approached the back door and slowly opened it, rifle at the ready. He knew full well there could be zombies on the other side. He could probably count on it. But he was here to save lives, as many lives as he could, and there could still be people alive in there too. Nobody was going to get out of that crash without the need for serious help. ____ It was not meant to be. A host of hands pushed the door open for Thorn from the other side, several zombies spilling out onto the road. ____ “Sh*t!!” Thorn quickly backed off and started popping zombie heads. The bus had been just about full of people. Now it seemed only the undead remained. Those still on the bus could be seen hunched around a couple carcasses, perhaps the most recent converts, feasting upon them. Fresh food was more appealing though, the monsters rising at the sight of the Corporal and beginning to make their way off the bus. ____ Gunfire quickly filled the air as Thorn made his retreat, firing at the zombies. Fortunately the bus crash had crippled several of the monsters, only a few able to run. Still they were better off than any human would be, unburdened by pain as they crawled across the pavement. ____ Thomas scowled as he watched Thorn and Header shooting the zombies, “Damn idiots! What’d they think would happen?” ____ Jaxson looked like he was going to speak up but Thomas didn’t have time for it, quickly catching a glimpse of more zombies running down the street, heading for the soldiers. Must hear the gunfire or something. Still upset about their decision to check out the bus but unwilling to let the additional undead get them from behind, Thomas sprinted out onto the road. He struck the running zombie right as it reached Thorn, the wrench making a satisfying crunch sound as the creature’s head splintered. ____ The Corporal glanced over his shoulder only for a second, “Thanks. Let’s get the hell out of here.” ____ “Don’t make suggestions to me like this wasn’t your idea!” Thomas replied. He only had a second to complain before another zombie rushed him, undead hands grappling and rotted teeth moving for his flesh. Thomas struggled to keep the monster away from him, always surprised with their strength despite their decaying muscles. Luckily Jaxson raced over, kicking the zombie away from Thomas. He gave him one look that said all that needed to be said: time to go. They turned to run for it, leaving the last of the runners to the soldiers. ____ “Get goin’! Head’s up!” Header shouted as they ran back to the forest, firing his M16 at any zombies chasing after them. ____ Bang!! A sudden gunshot struck one of the zombies, the bullet strangely coming from the very woods Thomas and Jaxson were racing toward. Brooke and Stacey jumped at the unexpected noise so nearby. All the gunfire always came from Thorn or Header. It was almost easy to forget that there could still be other people out there. ____ A second gunshot soon followed, striking another zombie in the arm. Not quite the same accuracy as the soldiers. Out of the forest came three people, two men and a woman. One of the men—a young lad wearing a dark-colored trench coat—held a pistol, firing upon the zombies. He was hardly the same shot as Thorn or Header, missing every couple of shots and taking longer to aim before firing, but any help was appreciated as far as Thomas was concerned. ____ The other man had a simple claw hammer in one hand, running onto the highway and smashing it into a zombie’s head, crushing its skull. The woman had a knife, stabbing any zombie that got close in the eye. Probably better melee weapons to have in this situation than a lousy wrench. ____ “Get off the road!” The man with the gun shouted. ____ “Noted!” Thomas bolted for the safety of the woods. Jaxson didn’t wait for a second either, opting to run to the woman’s side and kick a zombie away from her first before backing up off the highway. The two military men slowly made their retreat last, still firing upon any zombies still sprinting toward them. When only those limited to crawling were left they turned and raced over, regrouping with the others. Nobody questioned who the strangers were and the strangers didn’t question who they were—all that mattered was getting away before the commotion attracted any more unwanted undead attention. ____ As soon as the nine of them were off the road and the highway was out of sight the threat seemed to fade a bit. The man with the gun retreated off a few paces before talking again, “The highway’s really dangerous. Zombies have been walking down there all day. Bad time to go hitchhiking. Those monsters just keep coming.” ____ “Is that right?” Header said. ____ “Yeah. Anyways, it’s nice to see some other folks still alive around here. My name’s Cecil. I guess you could say I’m the leader of this little group here. This is George and Wendy.” ____ He got one word out of the two of them, George merely nodding and saying, “Hey.” ____ The Sergeant nodded, “I’m Sgt. Header, this is Cpl. Thorn, an’ these are Thomas, Stacey, Jaxson, and Brooke. So what brings you all out here, Mr. Cecil?” ____ “We’re looking for water.” George explained. ____ “Yeah, that.” Cecil said, “We didn’t exactly have much of a chance to stockpile supplies when the zombies hit. I decided finding water was our best chance of survival in the long run, for now at least.” ____ Header took a canteen hanging from his hip and tossed it to him, “That should last ya. Thomas, you seem to know your way around here. And rivers or lakes nearby?” ____ “Uh…” Thomas scratched his head, “There’s the DuPage River I guess. It’s probably not too far south from here. Maybe.” ____ Cecil raised an eyebrow, “Really? Thanks. Sorry, we’ve bit a bit lost. George and I are out-of-towners.” ____ “How long have you been running around these woods?” Header asked, carrying on before the man could answer, “Us, we’re looking for a LZ—er, a landing zone—a big clearing. Y’all tag along and if a helicopter picks us up you won’t hafta worry about water no more, that’s for damn sure.” ____ Cecil took a swig of the canteen and pointed westward, “Helicopter? Yeah, there’s a pasture not far from here where we set up camp. Well, more of a clearing in the woods than a pasture, but still. Forget about the highway. You could probably land four helicopters there. Follow me, I’ll show you the way. We’ve got more friends waiting there.” ____ “What do you think, folks?” Header asked the rest of the company. ____ Brooke smiled, “Lead on, Mr. Cecil.” ____ The group moved through the woods, Cecil letting George lead the way. Thomas lagged behind as they trudged, eyes on the eight ahead of him. Nine people seemed like a lot to him now, still trying to remember the names of the new faces. He wasn’t sure if he should trust them, but maybe he was just being overly cautious. Hardly a bad thing. But Thomas figured that Cecil would be pretty stupid to try to pull something over on a group with soldiers in it. Really he should be getting to know them better if anything. ____ Cecil must’ve been thinking the same thing, falling back and walking alongside Thomas, starting up a conversation, “You always stay this far back? Loner type?” ____ Thomas smirked, “You’ll forgive me for keeping to myself and processing all this.” ____ “True, true. Sorry.” Cecil glanced to the pistol in his hand, “It’s pretty insane, isn’t it all? I mean—we’re lucky to be alive, but…” ____ “But still.” Thomas finished. ____ “Yeah. Exactly. I’m just glad to see others got out alive.” ____ “Certainly unexpected. I got lucky.” Thomas agreed, eyeing his wrench. ____ “Tell me about it.” Cecil said, “I got jumped by four zombies at once when I was trying to escape. Nary a word of explanation before I was thrust into all this. Good thing I had my gun.” ____ “Four? Lucky indeed.” ____ “Very.” He was quiet for a moment before changing the subject, “So what is it you do, Mr.… Thomas, was it?” ____ “What difference does it make?” ____ Cecil shrugged, “Inquiry of occupation is a good lead-in to get to know a stranger, yes?” ____ Thomas relented at the logic and big words, figuring Cecil might actually be someone worth talking to, “I am—I was—an actor. You ever attend any plays, Cecil?” ____ “Once. A friend took me to The Misanthrope. I didn’t quite get it.” ____ Thomas smirked, hardly expecting such an answer, “Well, it’s a start. And what is it you do, did?” ____ “I’m a graphic designer. I work on branding and packaging and stuff like that.” Cecil nodded to the head of the group, “George over there is a carpenter. We kind of had a bit of a business. I’d help make your café’s logo and he’d help make the giant version to go on the front of your store. That was the idea, anyway.” ____ Thomas listened intently, reminded of how things had been not a few days ago. Simple, idealistic, everyone aiming for the top and honestly believing they could. It was a stupid pursuit, Cecil and George’s. But then working in theatre these days was a pretty dead-end job of its own. Unappreciated. But he didn’t do it for the appreciation. ____ “Sounds like a neat little business you had there,” He lied, “Maybe when all this is over the world will have a renewed need of logos and wood carvings.” ____ Cecil laughed, “You’re funny. You know, if all we’re doing once we get back is waiting on a helicopter it might get pretty boring. Maybe you can put on a show while we’re waiting.” ____ “Not on your life.” Thomas replied. And they kept on walking. ____ It was another full day’s travel on the way to Cecil’s claimed clearing, thankfully uneventful. When the sun faded and the moon returned over the night Thomas was disappointed to find that it still had those strange wings. Maybe he should begin to expect anything. It was ridiculous. He knew full well by now that this was no dream, but he decided to treat it as such anyway. After all, when you’re dreaming, you question nothing. He’d have to play by this new world’s rules too. Nothing impossible, and nothing explained. ____ Cecil had shown his trust of the new group by sleeping while Thomas kept watch. He appreciated the notion, a little ashamed to admit that he wasn’t sure he wanted these new people watching his back. They were all complete strangers, after all, and you never knew what people would try to do if they could get away with it. Although Cecil and his friends seemed like nice enough people, Thomas knew he’d have to be extra careful with folks from here on out. ____ The only other person who stayed up was Brooke. She too kept her gaze skyward, eyeing the winged moon above them. She must’ve had the same thoughts as Thomas, contemplating the wings’ mere existence in wonder. Any sane person would be baffled, although given the zombie problem nobody really had time to think about it during the day and were too exhausted at night to give it any pause. ____ “Aren’t you tired?” He asked her. ____ She sighed, “Very. I just have a lot on my mind, is all.” ____ A lot on your mind, really? In the zombie apocalypse? That’s very unique of you! Thomas subdued his unspoken critiques. Times were hard, they were going to stay hard, and being a sarcastic asshole wasn’t going to help anything. ____ “I think everybody does. It’s a lot to take in.” He chose to say instead, “I for one think you’re taking it all rather well.” ____ Brooke smiled, but it couldn’t hide the sad look in her eyes, “Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe it hasn’t all set in yet. Who knows how long the shock is going to last. I’m just trying to stay positive. That’s really the most I can do. If we give that up then everything will really fall apart, right?” ____ “If you say so.” Thomas crossed his arms, “If you can think that way after everything that’s happened. After everything we’ve lost.” ____ “‘Whether it’s the best of times or the worst of times it’s the only time we’ve got.’“ She lowered her gaze from the moon and looked over at him, “Mind if I play?” ____ “What for?” He watched as she got her guitar case and walked back over, instrument in hand. ____ “Practice helps me relax.” She carefully strung the guitar and strummed out a few quiet notes, “Don’t want to get rusty, right? I don’t have time during the day.” ____ Thomas smirked at the notion, “Practice for what? It’s not going to get you anywhere. All that thing does is slow you down.” ____ Brooke frowned, “Weren’t you in the performing arts or something? I thought you’d know the importance of this stuff more than anyone else. You’re a playwright—don’t you appreciate it?” ____ “I’m an actor, not a playwright. That’s like a writer.” ____ “Well whatever.” She sighed and looked down at the guitar as she continued to play, “When all this happened, my best friends were killed. Heaven knows what happened to everyone else I know. In those few seconds I had before being rushed out here, this was all I could think to grab. The only piece of my life to take with me.” ____ “Yeah?” Thomas implored her to go on. ____ “I thought about what made my old life worth living. Music is what I love more than anything in the whole world. I could’ve thought about what would help me survive, what’d help me fight back. But more than anything I took what I would’ve wanted to live with. That’s why I’ll keep practicing. I don’t want to survive. I want to live, really live.” ____ “I see.” Thomas merely said, “You’ll forgive me for seeing it differently.” ____ “But you still understand, yeah?” ____ “I do. I probably would’ve felt the same way once.” He sighed, “But I want to survive. Really survive. All that stage doesn’t do me much good anymore. I doubt its impact has done my captive few audiences any good right about now either. Those who are still alive in this mess.” ____ Brooke frowned, “If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you take on the career if you don’t enjoy it anymore?” ____ “I do enjoy it.” Thomas bit his tongue for using present tense. He wouldn’t be doing much acting anymore these days. Not unless every zombie dropped dead suddenly and things were back to normal within a month. He sighed again, once for being tired and once for self-frustration, “It’s hardly glamorous, hardly big-time. I could do better in front of cameras in a studio. But it was never about the money or even the fame. I loved it. I always had.” ____ Hearing him not complaining about something seemed to cheer Brooke up, as if she’d known he was a fellow artist of sorts and wanted to chip away his pessimism so they could talk about their careers more naturally, “Always, huh? So, what’s your favorite play? Or act or stage production, or whatever they’re called. Hamlet?” ____ Thomas chucked at the assumption, “That’s always their first guess. No, my favorite play is The Glass Menagerie.” ____ “I’ve never heard of that one.” ____ “Not terribly surprising. It’s a memory play.” Thomas explained, “The protagonist tells the story, where what we see is dictated solely by his memories of the events. It toys with concepts of objectivity. The experiences of the main character have more to do with the story than you’d think. You’d understand better if you just saw it, but it’s always been a personal favorite of mine.” ____ Brooke laughed, “Wow, that got you talkative real quick!” ____ “I, well… everyone gets ranty when they’re talking about their favorite things.” ____ “No, it’s okay.” She suddenly stopped strumming the guitar, “I like hearing about everyone’s past experiences. It’s only been two days but everything is suddenly so different. That feeling’s probably only going to get worse with time. Talking about before makes it feel not so far off now.” ____ “Maybe.” He said. It was true, things were going to be different only a few days ago. He was going to move to a new town, start a new life, maybe hit it big with a bigger production. Hitting it big. Perhaps it was about the money and fame. He acted because it was a career choice. It had been a while since he had thought about why he did it. But none of that mattered anymore. Now he was on this path. Where it was going to take him he didn’t know. Maybe that’s why the past didn’t matter much. The destination was more important than the journey in this case. ____ The two didn’t say much more, Brooke eventually deciding to finally go to sleep. Thomas was left alone to muse on those thoughts, eyes out for zombies and the winged moon his sole company. ____ “We’re getting there.” Cecil assured the others the next day as he led on. It had been a long walk, travelling on foot hardly a match for driving anywhere. But if Cecil’s promises held true it’d be worth it, on top of the fact that if there were others they could hardly leave them behind. ____ Cecil looked over his shoulder as he went, opening his mouth to say something else but stopping as a small stone flew down from above and struck the ground right next to him. ____ He leapt back but didn’t look surprised beyond that, indicating that he had suspected that to happen. He looked to the trees above, “Scratch that: we’re there. Watch your aim up there—and make sure they’re zombies first!” ____ On one of the sturdier branches above was a young man, an unusual looking fellow. He held two more stones in his hands as he gingerly peered down at them, the leaves of the tree obscuring his sight of them, and them of him. ____ Cecil beckoned him down, “Sorry about that, guys. I’m the only one in the lot who has a gun so we had to make-do with our watchman. Anyway, this here is—” ____ “—It’s Miles. Miles.” The fellow said, speaking before Cecil finished. It came across more awkwardly, unsure of when to speak up, more than it was arrogantly interruptive. ____ The branch he was on was low enough to safely jump down from, but he instead clambered down the trunk with caution. ____ “How’s it hanging?” Cecil asked him. ____ “Good. Swell, I guess. No one’s died, anyway.” Miles replied, eyeing the newcomers, “Who are you people?” ____ Sgt. Header adjusted his helmet as he answered, scratching the side of his head, “I’m Sgt. Header, this is Cpl. Thorn, this is… ya know what? I’m sick of listing us all off. We’ll introduce ourselves when we meet everybody, yeah?” ____ “Good thinking,” Cecil agreed, “I’ll show you the others. Right through here.” ____ Miles stepped aside, “Uh, right. Go on ahead.” ____ The woods finally relented and opened up. Ahead was a wide open clearing, surrounded by a ring of trees all around. Out here the sun could shine fully and the grass could be green as it wanted. It was a nice little place. Satisfactory, at least. Best of all one could certainly fit a helicopter or two. ____ Out in the open by what was probably once a fire pit there were two people, a man and a woman. They were normal and tired looking, probably a bit more of the average Joe, plain Jane variety. At least compared to the more soldierly or eccentric members of Thomas’ own group. ____ No, check that on the two people: the woman had with her a small infant. Couldn’t be a year old. That probably made things extra difficult for Cecil’s group. Bad timing, kid, being born right about now, Thomas grimly figured. ____ Cecil didn’t seem to mind, approaching the two and waving them over. ____ “This here is Abbey and her son.” He introduced, “And that’s David.” ____ The two looked unsure if they should be happy to see new faces or not. ____ David spoke up first, merely crossing his arms, “Well, at least you found more people to drink the water.” ____ Stacey couldn’t help but giggle quietly, thinking to herself that they had found another Thomas. ____ “Relax. Catch.” Cecil tossed David the canteen Header had given him, “Besides, these guys have a better plan. They might be able to get us an air-ride to safety soon.” ____ “Oh thank God.” Abbey said, “How soon?” ____ “Well that depends.” Header explained. He grimaced at his shoulder speaker, hoping his frown might motivate the thing to work. ____ “Gimmie the flare and work on it.” Thorn advised, “The rest of you might as well relax while you can. This might take a while. We’ll see.” ____ They would indeed just have to wait and see. The Sergeant secluded himself off to the corner of the clearing (not that the wide open space offered much privacy or separation), fiddling with his radio. How much he really knew about the device was questionable, but no one else was more mechanically gifted so nobody interfered. ____ For everyone else, it was a chance to relax just a bit and get to know everyone. Really it was the chance to finally stop walking that Thomas was thankful for, but he didn’t know how long they’d be here. So it wouldn’t hurt to get to know the new folks. Not that he really knew those in his own group all that well. They’d really only just met after all. ____ Anyway, Thomas recounted what’d he had gathered over the last half-hour of waiting. There was Cecil (the leader), George (his right-hand man), Wendy (she doesn’t say much), uh, Miles (coming up short with adjectives to describe his personality), Abbey (between the zombies and the baby (did she say his name was Gabe?), she looks incredibly exhausted), and—let’s see…—David (a bit of a stuffy asshole… he looks like the kind of guy who would die first in this situation if this were a Hollywood movie). Yes, that was the lot of them. ____ Thomas hoped he wouldn’t have to try too hard to remember their names. With any luck they’d be out of here soon, ferried off somewhere safe where worries of monsters or supplies or yes, even remembering names, would be long gone. ____ Just a bit of luck. Right. ____ Thomas took after the Sergeant and secluded himself as well, staying away from the rest of the group and merely staring off into the forest. Waiting for something to happen. The others could socialize all they liked. Try hopelessly to reassemble some form of normality through pleasantries in dialogue. Why bother? ____ Thomas just kept to himself, finding his own thoughts to be better company. There he stayed, just waiting for a bit of luck. However long it’d take. I promise to be back next time with more. Stay tuned! ~TAF TAF was the Storyteller... in THE ENEMY'S LAST RETREAT Last edited by TheAverageFan; August 17th, 2017 at 06:16 PM.
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#11
December 3rd, 2016, 12:09 AM
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Re: THE MOON HAS WINGS - a zombie story
Great job TAF, you've written another story I can't stop reading. I don't really have much more to say besides repeating myself, but keep it up! Just wish I could give you more Rep...
Oops, rolled a 1.
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| Marro_Warlord |
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#12
December 3rd, 2016, 02:38 PM
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Re: THE MOON HAS WINGS - a zombie story
I feel bad for not commenting. I really do. I know exactly how it feels, because I go through the same thing with my fan fictions. Ah, the days when there were more of us...
The reason I haven't been commenting (or, if we're honest, reading) is because I read chapter one and was getting vibes from the feel of things. The kind of vibes that say it's not my kind of fiction. This is mostly from the rating paragraph, which said the story would include strong language and sexual violence. Those things just really turn me off, and knowing that they're coming at some point would, I think, sour my whole experience of reading. Don't get me wrong here. Your writing is great. Better than great. The content just isn't my kind of thing. ~TGRF. Go to my website to read my fan fiction!
Writing Status: Developing...
Spoiler Alert!
Contest Entry: Assembling... Archmage of Feylund: Identifying and fixing final issues... The Next Story (temp title): Considering potential stories... Novels: Considering Eighth Iteration (assessing potential)... Writer Notes: Issues: Crunched intros, undeveloped antagonists (fix via antagonist being external representation of Lie, also being present and personal), squished content (fixed by subplots), convenient endings (caused by plot-superfluous conflicts/actors which demand endings - examine all points of resolution to check for convenience) (Show vs. tell, lack of airtight detail). Investigate ability to show background, motivation, and personality through dialogue voice. (BYU-BS). Double-test amping tension - should have no problem with this.
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