Nazi Zombies

Thunder rolled outside, briefly masking the sound of gunfire. The small, but still nearly missle-proof, car bounced gently on the rough dirt road. He let out a long, slow sigh of breath. He knew he was executing the most important mission in this great war, even though the public assumed there were no more threats ever since the death of Hitler a few months before. That was a joke. The death of their public figurehead had only streamlined their efforts. And now good ol' Uncle Sam was depending on a group of soldiers, led by a "special" teenager, to take out the Reichs' last real hope of conquering the world. The car turned a sharp corner, almost spilling Don and his five teammates into the muddy jungle. He could see the objective, a small, brick, glass, and steel structure, up ahead. In fact, it was the last thing he saw before a deafining explosion blew his car and two of his men into pieces, sending anything that still had all his parts flying...

Don opened his eyes. He knew he'd been having a strange dream….Then again, no, it had not been so strange. It was a dream about the mission he'd undertaken when he was 19, at the end of WWII, a mere seven years ago.

Sighing, he rolled out of bed, got dressed, and sat down for a cup of coffee. The clock by the refrigerator told him it was ten. He supposed he'd be late, if he had any job to go to. After his services back in the days when he was known as Colenel Linch, the military paid for anything he cared to have.

That hadn't been much. He was happy he's found Glendive, this small town in central Montana, and he preferred to pass his days hiking in the nearby mountains, killing time and targets at the gun range, on occasion a day fishing at the Yellowstone River which divided the town into East and West.

He swallowed the last of his coffee and stepped outside. He loved the climate this time of year….And not just the climate, either. Around hear, there was always a certain energy in the air in late September, the kid in everyone getting excited for Halloween and in turn the rest of the holiday season. It helped greatly that while it did snow, it was usually very mild until November, and even then the temperature usually stayed above 0 degrees until spring, when things started warming up for summer.

But something was wrong today. He got a funny feeling in his stomach, the same stomach that usually provided fairly strong intuition. He hadn't had this feeling in a while, not since…. Well, not since the war.

There was a faint sream on the air, whether a product of his imagination or two lovers out for an early morning's walk, he did not know. He sucked in one last, refreshing breath of autumn air. Sighing, he returned to his house to finish getting ready for the morning.

Suddenly, there was a sharp crash at the door. Don grabbed his M11911 and rushed to the doorway to investigate. Standing in the doorway was a bloodied man, his clothing (was that a Nazi uniform?) and flesh both in a horrible state of decomposition. Definetly scared, but still about his wits, Don raised his pistol and aimed at the creature's head. He fired once, twice, and finally the third bullet put the thing down for good. Bewildered, he returned to his room to collect some things from his gun cabinate.

A few trips later, he climbed into the small but tough jeep he owned, the back loaded with every imaginable type of weaponry. He even had a flame thrower. Driving through town, he periodically stopped to help those that were still alive to receive help. Sometimes more creatures- he could definetly tell they were dressed as Nazis now- would pounce on the helpless victim and devour them before Don could do anything. When this happened, he would pull his car over and eradicate all the demons from that area. Once he got to the border of town, he knew where to go: A secret, abondoned cabin he and his three war buddies- Maltovish, little Tskune, and Hiesenburg had discovered. It was in a swampy area but fairly large, and very hard to find.

He found all three of them there, but they were all just as confused as he. Thankfully there were also as heavily armed. Try as they might, the only thing they could get their radio to yield was static. Maltovish took a swig of vodka before saying, "Well, fu-". Suddenly, a great roar came from outside. The four men rushed to grab all the weaponry they could carry. Huddling in a circle in the middle of the one-room second story, they waited for the hundreds- maybe thousands- of Nazis….