He struck like a viper, moving in fast and hard, battering her defenses like waves against the shore during the heat of a storm. Twin iron rods—lead pipes, really—some two and a half feet in length with cloth bandages wrapped along the handles to stabilize grip were encrusted with gore and dripping with fresh blood. He planted his right foot firmly, making sure his stance was correct, and launched himself at the defender once more. But she was prepared for his attack, for the woman immediately lashed out with a cut aimed for his then vulnerable midsection. Instinctively he brought down one of his steel batons to deflect the blow, but realized a fraction of a second too late that her weapon was at a disadvantage, being longer and with a sharpened edge, added to that her innate strength which would surely decimate his foolish attempt to parry. At the very last second he decided to abandon his offensive and reinforce his guard with his second weapon. And it proved to be a life saver. He crossed his rods, locking the tip of her sword in the middle. Reflexively he raised his crossed bars along with the captive sword above his head and cast perhaps one of the craziest gambles he'd ever done his entire life. Mustering whatever courage that still clung to his bones; he strode forward with arms still held high, and the dreaded katana slithering past him in a deathly hiss of steel as he crept closes to his prey. If it was a deathmatch he'd already kneed her exposed ribs and finished her off. Smiling, both combatants relaxed and laughed. She withdrew her blade and sheathed it in one fluid movement. He raised one of his iron bars in salute, dropped them both and, tears in his eyes, sped towards his long lost friend for an embrace.
Chapter 1: Be Quick Or Be Dead
The past days have been a blur. He stank of dried blood and brain matter. His stomach rumbled his throat was cracked dry. He had barely enough stamina to last him one more night. But that's when fortune changed. The condo building was relatively free of "Them", and could easily be secured. Upon entering he immediately barred the doors and windows with the heaviest pieces of furniture he could get his hands on and scouted the upper floors for any hostiles. There were five of the things, of which he dispatched effortlessly. Finally convinced that the area was safe, he retired to the unit on the third floor. The unit was nothing fancy. Standard rooms, quite spacious, really. There was a medicine cabinet there and a fridge stuffed with consumables. Water was also running. There were clothes coincidentally his size. The view was good, overlooking the city (or what was left of it). But the best part was that unit faced an adjacent building that had also had a balcony on the same floor level. The distance was a scant eight to ten feet away, but given his athletic capabilities he could make the jump no sweat should things suddenly turn sour.
He let the warm water wash away his fatigue. The feeling of being clean was a hundred times more refreshing than the shower itself. He took his time scrubbing off the dirt and grime before losing himself under the shower's comforting torrent. Half an hour later he dried himself up. He had some minor cuts here and there, but they didn't sting as much as he thought they would. A bit of antiseptic and gauze did the trick. He sat on the bed and helped himself to some biscuits and a can of soda as he tried to plot out his next course of action. Obviously he could not backtrack home to check if his parents and surviving siblings got to safety. The alleys and main road was choked with the undead. He would not last five minutes by himself outside, no matter how good he was in a fight; their sheer numbers would cut him down in a flash. Though it pained him to do so, he had to brace himself and expect the worst.
He chewed thoughtfully as he tried to digest what he had learned so far. Those… things, they don't react to pain. A blow to the head is the only sure way to knock them down for good. Speaking of which, he remembered, knocking them down was as good as finishing them off. To immobilize them required less effort and gave one enough time to run for cover before they got back up on their feet. Another thing was that they seem to rely on their sense of hearing the most. If those things had the keen nose of a hound his wounds have given him away already. Yes. It made a world of sense. And their eyes. If they could, at the very least, detect his presence visually, they would have reacted when he dashed past them. They would've turned their already rotting heads the moment peripheral vision caught movement, but no. They only knew he was there when he tripped in panic and let out a surprised yell.
He took a grateful sip of his drink and tried to delve into the matter further. Those things… what were they, anyway? Nobody can take such a savage beating and still shamble forward. He crushed that woman's ribs. Solid metal smashing against soft flesh and delicate bone. The impact should have punctured organs, called forth severe internal bleeding. Yet she still came on to him, tried to bite a chunk out of him. No shock, no reeling. Pure blood thirst. It was out of desperate flailing when he smashed her on the forehead and her body went slack. Corpses. Yes, they had to be dead already. Clearly, they were no longer human.
'No longer human'. That thought struck him like a crowbar. He looked at his hands and trembled. I'm such a prick for thinking that, he cursed himself. He had just killed two people he loved—his brothers— with his bare hands. Their bodies were still warm, and he was already thinking negatively of them. "Benjamin… Ray…" To his chagrin, he realized that it was only now that he had managed to let loose his emotions and cry. Thoughts raged in his mind: of his family, his girlfriend, his best friend. And it broke him. "What the fuck is going on?" he asked himself aloud, but was mindful not to make too much noise lest those things hear him. He just went out for a night to drink his troubles away, and when he came to the next morning the world was already in the shores Hell.
Sleep proved to be difficult. All the groaning and screaming outside set him on the edge. There was a nagging feeling at the back of his head telling him to double-check the entrance and see if the barricade would hold. He brushed the thought aside, convinced that he did a good job securing the portal and forced himself to get much needed rest. But still instinct urged him to take a look around. Not one to mistrust instinct, he slowly got up, and with weapons in hand, scouted the halls for any sign of activity. The place was as quiet as the dead… metaphorically speaking, because the ones outside were making a racket. Not thoroughly convinced that the coast was clear, he crept downstairs to check if anything managed to get through the door. The blockade was undisturbed, and he heaved a sigh of relief. Suddenly there was a loud banging, then screaming. "Is anyone there?" a voice cried out. "Let us in! Please! We're hurt!"
He never thought there'd come a day he would curse the values his parents taught him, about doing all that you can to help someone in need. Despite the risk, without hesitation, he moved the couch and vending machine aside and opened the door just enough for a person to go through. It was a small group of people, four in number. Two of them were women, and one was about the same age as him. One of them, a man, had a horrible gash on the shoulder, a huge portion of his shirt ripped away. The other one seemed to have her wrist and neck torn crudely. She clutched her wounds and was alabaster with blood loss and fear.
"Get in!" he readied his weapons and stood guard at the door as the wounded made their way inside. Three of the walking dead tried to follow, but he immediately intercepted and felled one with a quick jab to the temple. Spoilt blood sprayed like rain and found himself drenched in rotting crimson. He spat in disgust, wiping the gore off his face. One zombie tried to claw at his face, but he quickly backpedaled and swung full force. Tempered steel crack open bone and the creature fell back and hit the pavement with a dull thud. Gaining momentum he rushed towards the final zombie standing in his way and delivered a furious backhand stroke that sheared its forehead off. Seeing that all survivors made it safely inside, he hurried back and replaced the barricades.
"Everyone else alright? Please proceed to the unit on the third floor. There's food and medical supplies there. You guys can nourish yourselves and patch up the wounded." He called for the one who looked most capable of holding his own against the horde, a man in his early twenties, rapier thin and a pretty boy haircut. He scowled knowing that man hadn't the slightest of combat experience and would only be good as fodder, but he had to make do with what was available. He handed him one of his lead pipes. "You know how to use this, right?"
The man stuttered, as if begrudgingly accepting the responsibility. "I think I can manage."
He watched the other members of the group warily ascend the stairs as he hand his chosen partner stood guard over the door. There was no telling if the walking dead had become aware of the survivors and decides to bear down on their meager fortifications.
"What's your name?" he asked, hoping to break the ice.
"Ren Tanaka." The man answered as sheepishly as ever. His confidence in the man wavered by the second. "You?"
"Kaede Danma. Pleased to meet you." He offered a customary bow and shook Ren's hand. The stranger smiled. Kaede found it relieving that Ren wasn't as timid as he thought. "Mind telling me what happened?"
"I don't know the full story. I met them while running from those things. We wandered around, trying to look for shelter, but no luck. Two of them got bit on the way here. Looks pretty bad, but I hope they'll be fine. We're really fortunate you opened up. I was pretty sure we were about to die."
"Hey now, don't jinx it." He chuckled. "I'm just glad there are still living people out there like me. I honestly thought I was gonna end up alone. Don't worry; we're all in this together now. Those injured can get back up on their feet once their wounds are dressed."
Ren nodded, obviously bolstered by the knowledge that a capable fighter stood by his side, in his eyes a glimmer of hope that he just might get to live a little longer. "Say, Kaede—"
"Please call me 'Danma'." He cut the man short, trying his best not to sound rude. "I'm sorry. I know you're probably older than me and with all these honorifics about age and rank, I'm pretty sure I sound like a jerk. I don't mean to. It's just that I never really grew here in Japan, and I'm used to people calling me by my last name. So... there."
Ren studied him for a moment. "You're not Japanese? But you speak Japanese so fluently. And you look Japanese, too!"
"I get that a lot," Kaede admitted, scratching his head. "I may look like I'm from around here, but truth be told I'm only half. I'm part French and English."
"No kidding!" Ren laughed. "Really? Wow! You don't look it at all!"
Kaede joined the mirth. "My father's blood runs strong. Either that, or I was adopted. I'll never really know now, huh? But you should see my siblings. They barely have any oriental in them." But his laughter died down as he remembered his brothers and what he had to do. "Anyway," he cleared his throat, desperate for a change of topic. "Yeah, please, just call me 'Danma' if it would be okay."
Tanaka smiled and nodded understandingly. "Alright, Danma." And that was when Kaede's newfound respect for him skyrocketed.
"We should check up on the others. Let's move."
Tanaka refused to move. "But the doors…"
"It doesn't look like we've attracted any more of those things. Besides, I'm pretty sure the doors will hold. Should they decide to knock, we'll get a heads up and can act on it immediately. Come on, maybe they need our assistance."
They found the rest of the group in unrest as the wounds of those injured would not stop bleeding. They've nearly exhausted the meager supply of bandages and gauze. "I don't know what to do!" the unharmed girl sobbed as the man with the tattered shoulder convulsed and heaved, spraying volumes of crimson with each wracked cough. Ren and Kaede held the man by the arms and legs as the girl tried to wipe blood off the man's lips. None of them had proper medical training, but lucky for them Kaede was knowledgeable about practical and survival first aid. He inspected the wound. It was a shallow cut; it hadn't even reached the artery from what he could tell. But why the hell was it bleeding like crazy?
"Take some bandages and apply pressure on the wound. Don't worry if they get soaked through. Just slap on a new batch and do not disturb the wound, do you understand? We need to stop the bleeding." The girl bobbed her head uncontrollably as she dedicated her weight over the lesion. But the man continued to jerk and groan for another minute before finally going still. There was a moment of silence. The girl slid her index and middle finger over the side of the man's neck, but there was no pulse. She placed her ear near the man's nose, hoping for a note of life. Nothing.
Christ, Kaede thought. A flesh wound and he's already gone? That can't be right! A second hadn't even passed when the man who was supposedly dead already bolted upright and clutched the girl still leaning close to him by the neck, biting off a gruesome portion. The horror took everyone, even Kaede, by surprise. She shrieked and thrashed wildly, but the reanimated carcass bore down on her and continued to feast. Kaede steeled himself and shattered the ghoul's skull in one brutal wallop. The cadaver shuddered and crumbled into a lifeless heap a second time, although now permanently. The girl, in her throes of death, shoved the corpse away, tears in her eyes and begging them for help. He meant to pull her up, but paled as realization dawned on him like a death sentence. The man he killed just now. Ren told him that he suffered a bite from one of those beasts, and now, shortly after, turned into one of "them". "Help me…" the words bubbled in her throat. He glanced at the corpse, then at her, then back at the dead body.
He stared into her eyes and watched the life fade away. For a moment that seemed to last an eternity, he saw in terrifying detail her dread. He was surely to back out if her features hadn't softened into a mask of understanding and gratitude. Danma's guts churned in absolute self-loathing and disgust, but knew it had to be done, and quickly. Time was a commodity in dreadfully short supply. "Hey! What are you doing?" Ren cried out in protest, but he paid him no mind. Kaede fastened his grip on the steel pipe and readied for another blow.
Kaede admitted that he felt a twinge of embarrassment when Ren grabbed him by the arms and slammed him against the wall. He certainly did not think there would be an ounce of strength in that man. "Why the hell did you do that? She was still alive!"
Kaede straightened and pushed the stranger away. "Not for long." He said darkly. "Piece it together. You said that man was bitten, right?" he pointed his weapon at the corpse he'd dispatched earlier. "His wound was more of a scratch than anything else. Look at what happened to him now. Don't you get it? They get to you, you're infected. If you get infected, then you die. Simple as that. I did what I had to do. I can't risk everybody's safety for someone who's as good as dead anyway. This is the only safe place we've got right now," he turned his attention to the other bite victim, his fist clenched into a white-knuckled grip. "I'm not leaving anything to chance."
Ren stepped back, obviously unsure if he heard Danma's words correctly. "You can't be serious."
The girl with the torn neck clutched her wound tighter than before, feebly attempting to scurry back, but she hadn't the stamina to do so. "Please! Please! I'm not one of them! You've got to be joking!" She howled in baffled rage. "You're going to kill me just like that?"
"You're saying you'd rather turn into one of those abominations and try to kill us than dying as yourself with dignity intact?"
"I'm not gonna die!" She protested, blood trickling down the sides of her mouth. "I won't die! I won't accept it! You're crazy! You can't kill me!"
"Keep it down. You'll attract the rest." The sudden, deathly shift in Kaede's tone was unnerving. His weapon arm seemed to take on a life of its own and poised to deal death. "If none of you will recognize the generosity that is in my actions, then you leave me no choice but to act according to my selfish interests. Listen, miss. I want to live. But letting you walk free and soon capable of biting me down to size prevents me from meeting that desire to live. And because you refuse to cooperate, you leave me no choice. Either way, in the end, I am left to strike you down. I'm begging you. Don't make things harder for me than they already are."
"Please… just leave me alone." The girl, unable to accept the facts, finally broke down. It shattered Kaede's heart to see a woman in tears, but what was he to do? "Don't come any closer! Don't!" Her cries fell upon deaf ears. Even Ren started to see the logic in Kaede's words and decided to stay in the corner and keep his mouth shut. Kaede strode purposefully, his weapon humming with anticipation.
"I'm sorry." he whispered.
The girl let out a bloodcurdling scream, and then everything was still.