Authors notes: Ghostbusters was created by Dan Aykroyd and owned by Columbia pictures
This story features the Ghostbusters of the movie.
Dawn of the Dead, AKA the Dead series was created by George Romero
Thought I'd release this today seeing as the Apocalypse is supposed to be today ;) :D
The title is a spin on the film 'Apocalypse Now' and the Real Ghostbusters cartoon episode 'Apocalypse, What, now?'
I've rated this story as a T for now, but I might upgrade to an M if I decide to go darker.
Anyway, Enjoy.
Zombie Apocalypse, Now what?
By
TimeLordPararox
AKA
(Ross Pickering)
Prologue
New York a city that never sleeps, a bustling metropolis of over ten thousand people inside the city limits at once. There were always people around, cars, busses and trains running, ferrying people from one place to the other. They said it was the city that never sleeps, one that never dies.
But that was then, and this is now. Now the streets are deserted, devoid of all life or that you could call life. The roads are jammed up with cars that looked like they were running from some big terrible disaster. Papers flying around everywhere caught in the strong gales of wind, the whistle of it through the tall skyscrapers once full of hundreds of people, now filled with nothing but death.
Winston Zeddemore pulled back when he thought he saw movement from a three car pileup just outside. It was important that 'they' never found out anyone was in here, it was the only safe place he knew of in the entire city, the firehouse, A.K.A. Ghostbusters HQ. But this city didn't need Ghostbusters because the greatest threat ironically wasn't ghosts anymore but something ten times as worse but just as dead.
Winston listened intently at the window which was boarded up with long planks of wood cannibalized from anything they could find, but he could hear nothing but the howl of the wind. He began moving away from the window to continue his patrol the light from his low power flash light on his jump suit illuminated just enough of the ground floor of the firehouse as necessary. Too much light attracts them, they gather to it like moths to a flame but like moths themselves they seem to find their way in eventually.
All the windows were boarded up with whatever they could find, mostly bits of Janine's desk but they had also taken down the railings around the stairs and used them to nail the large front doors shut so nothing short of a battering ram could break in, but it wasn't a barricade that he was certain would keep them out.
Carefully stepping over the remains of Janine's desk he walked towards the basement stairs and began to descend. Winston put his flash light onto full power to get a good look at what was down here, hopefully nothing.
In his hand he tapped the heavy mussel of a sawn off shot gun. Proton blasters had little effect on them, they just caught fire and though they 'died' from the flames -if died was the right word- it took too long. Instead a quick blast to the head with a gun was enough to kill 'them' stone dead.
Thankfully there was nothing down here apart from the silent hum of the large black containment system that resembled an enormous washing machine that filled one side of the room. It still held inside it dozens of spectres and ghosts the Ghostbusters had caught over the years. It was running on minimal power right now to extend its life but the moment it lost all power then the entire firehouse would go up with a loud bang.
Winston could accept sleeping on top of what was effectively a bomb, he could accept fighting ghosts and demons, what he wasn't expecting was what was outside at this moment, wandering the streets looking for other people, looking for food.
He checked the rest of the basement and made sure a door at the far end of the basement which leading further under the streets of New York was firmly locked.
Curiosity getting the better of him he pressed his ear close to the door and listened. A light shuffling noise could be heard somewhere on the other side, then came a low moan that nearly chilled the blood in his body, it moaned as if it was lost, as if it wanted someone to shout back to help it find its way, to trick it into revealing itself so 'it' could find prey.
Thud! Winston quickly pulled his head away from the door as something lightly impacted it from the other side. The door slowly and lightly pulsated in and out, in and out as if it was alive, as if it was breathing, but the wooden beams nailed to it and a heavy shelf stopped it opening any further. The pulsating stopped momentarily and Winston heard another moan, a moan that sounded like it had spotted what it wanted. It could see the light from Winstons flash light through the gap.
Winston cursed himself and put his hand over the bulb of his flash light, but it was too late, it knew he was here and it didn't matter if Winston left the basement or even left the firehouse all together. That creature on the other side won't stop pushing on that door until it either broke in or found something else it thinks is lunch.
As Winston climbed back up the stairs, the floor boards creaking as he ascended, he began to think.
What had happened to the rest of the world beyond New York, was there anyone left alive on the entire planet, was he, and the small group of survivors who are now held up in this old firehouse the last living humans on the planet?
Another soft groan came from somewhere very close to a boarded up window. Though it was against his better judgement Winston peered out through the gaps in the boards, and Winston saw it, there was one of them just outside lonely wandering the streets. It was a man, a man of average height wearing a tattered black suit that looked like it had seen better days, a suit that had until recently had probably looked brand new. The man was also pale faced and had a sulking, unnatural look on the side of his face that Winston could just see.
He shuffled one foot along the floor before dragging his other foot along to meet it, walking as if it didn't know how to control its limbs properly.
It suddenly stopped and as if it could actually sense Winston nearby it turned its head to look around the dark, apocalyptic atmosphere of New York, trying to detect the living. As he turned Winston got a good look at the other side of his face. What he saw was horrifically disgusting but Winston had seen enough of it that it didn't turn his guts anymore.
Half the man's face was missing, flesh had been ripped off as if he had been in an accident and one eye was missing from its socket on that side of its face. The other side of its suit was also stained red with dried blood and as the man continue to turn around Winston saw that its stomach had been completely ripped open spilling its intestines onto the floor that only now Winston could see trailing out behind him.
It turned a full circle before deciding there was nothing there and took a step forward and comically tripped over its own intestines that had curled around its legs as it turned, it made no move to put its hands out and stop itself as it fell straight to the ground.
Winston pulled back when he saw something much closer enter his field of vision, another figure, another one of 'them' had just shuffled by the window just inches from him. That was one of the scary things about these creatures, they were slow but you could rarely hear them coming and they never tire out, once they spotted you they chased you, once you find shelter they bang and pound at it until they tear it down, and if they were banging and pounding and groaning it attracted more and more of them making the collapse of your hideout almost inevitable.
Winston never imaged that one that day, four nights ago as he and the guys were driving to an apartment building across town, that the world would end and the dead would rise from the grave.
To be continued…
Authors notes: This is an AU story and I'm telling it primarily from Winston's point of view because I'm leaving it open as to whether the others have survived yet.
The door in the basement is from the Ghostbusters video game where Ray takes the Rookie further into the basement to try and catch Slimer, again.