Day Two
There was no noise, only shapes and feelings. Derik watched as the darkness turned into a hall with a quaint little house on the top of it. Then there a whistling sound moments before it exploded noiselessly, knocking Derik over and sending not debris, but minuscule droplets of water everywhere, making him feel cold and wet. Suddenly several dark shapes appeared in the sky, blotting out the sun, and fell towards the ground. The first one hit the ground and sent waves everywhere, as if the ground was water, and it made a strange beeping sound.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The sound cut through Derik's grogginess like a knife, rousing him from sleep.
Lying there for a moment, he let consciousness seep into him, slowly checking over his body mentally. His legs felt like lead.
Pulling his arm out from underneath the blankets Derik groped around the shelf on the wall next to his bed for his glasses. His fingers found them, cold and metal, and grasped the frame tentatively, pulling them towards his head.
Pulling his other arm away from the warmth of the bed he opened the glasses frame and perched them on his nose.
Rousing himself Derik pulled back the blankets and sat up, sliding himself over to the edge of the bed with his legs dangling off the side. Propping his hands on the side of the bed Derik slid down about five feet to the cold floor.
The room was already awash with light from the sun outside, even though the alarm clock read 6:09. Walking across the messy floor Derik turned off the alarm clock. Standing there he stretched his legs and arms before walking over to his closet and pausing there in a still half-groggy stupor.
Looking vacantly at the clothes before him he pulled out a large brown tee-shirt with a picture of Stewie Griffin and a ray gun on it and a pair of black boxer briefs and some socks. Turning around he left the closet and headed towards the door, grabbing a pair of fairly worn jeans from where they lay across the top of a wooden dining room chair in front of a desk that had a large computer monitor on top of it.
Opening the door he stepped into the oddly shaped boxy hallway and across it into the bathroom, closing the door.
Walking by the sink Derik threw the clothes into a pile in the corner of the bathroom before stripping down and using the toilet. After that he started the shower, letting the water run for a few seconds in order to warm up.
Stepping into the shower he let the hot water wash over his back for about a minute before he applied soap to a bath scrubby and lathering himself down. Stepping back into the water he let it rinse all the soap off of his body. Sniffing his armpits in order to make sure they passed the smell test Derik reached for a clear plastic bottle full of green stuff and poured some into his hand, then lathering his hair with it.
He was finished with the shower a few minutes later, turned off the water, and stepped out letting the water drip off his body and onto the shower mat on the floor for a few seconds. Then Derik reached for a towel of the nearby towel rack and dried himself off, stepping over to the pile of clothes that lay in one corner of the room, throwing on the underwear, pants, and shirt in that order.
Derik then walked over to the bathroom door and opened it, entering a different house where people were actually awake and active, where people were cooking downstairs and eating and talking.
Walking into his parent's bedroom Derik sat down on his mom's side of the bed and started to put on his socks.
"Yo, mom, it's time to get up," he said, pulling his left sock up on his foot.
"Just a few more minutes," she mumbled, waving her hand at him.
"Alright, whatever you say," Derik replied, getting up and going downstairs.
Walking into the kitchen Derik took a cup from one of the cabinets and poured himself a generous amount of milkshake from the blender.
"Morning, D," Derik's dad said from where he stood in front of the counter making lunches.
"Morning dad," he said, taking a drink from the liquid, savoring that particular morning strawberry taste.
"Morning Derik," said Derik's little cousin, Colin, who was sitting at the kitchen island with his brother Evan and Derik's brother George.
"Morning Colin. Morning Evan. Morning G-man," Derik said, sitting down at the end of the island. "Yo, dad, I'm going upstairs," Derik asserted, before he could be sucked into any conversation.
"Alright, keep an ear out for your mother."
"Alright," Derik answered, climbing up the stairs and going into his room.
Sitting down at the same chair he'd pulled his pants from before he set his drink down on the cluttered desk and reached down to press a button on his computer, turning it on. The fans inside started to whir and one of them made the occasional clattering noise as it bumped against its casing. This was, unfortunately, unfixable.
Entering a password Derik logged in on his account and waited as windows and all the other associated programs started up. Once this was done he pressed a button on his mouse which started Windows Media Player and double clicked on the Internet Explorer icon. As these programs started up Derik logged in on MSN.
Closing the two windows that popped up and making sure he had no new e-mails Derik started up some J.B.O., a German rock band. Selecting the IE window Derik surfed for a while, about half an hour, before he was alerted to the fact that it was time to go by the stopping of the shower, which meant his mother was out of the shower.
Pressing the same button as before Derik stood up, finishing the rest of his shake in one go. Making sure his pockets were laden with the necessary writing utensils, a few mechanical pencils and a pen or two, and that he had a pack of gum in his pockets.
'Oh yea,' Derik thought to himself, remembering that there was a social after school, 'I should probably put on some deodorant.'
So, putting on some deodorant Derik headed downstairs and stuffed his lunch in the second compartment of his backpack, slipped on his shoes, and dashed out the front door and down the porch steps towards his mom's car, a huge and bulky Dodge Durango.
Jumping inside he put his backpack on the floor and buckled his seat belt, putting the keys that he took from the counter in the ignition and starting the car, purely so that he could listen to music. Things like Puddle of Mudd and the sort.
Closing his eyes Derik relaxed for a few minutes as he waited for his mom and brother and cousins to get into the car.
Downes St. – 6:19 A.M.
Meanwhile, in a run down part of Fairbanks the shit had already hit the fan.
Police cruisers had set up barricades on either end of Downes St. and radioing in for orders on what to do with the sixteen shambling figures, six on each end, who were beating their fists against the barricades and the four who were beating against the door of one of the better looking houses.
Officer Ryan Haydukovich stood with his pistol covering the five figures at his barricade with four other cops, while one of them contacted the station. They hadn't tried communication or non-lethal weapons after they saw the 'trio' as they called them, a trio of people who shambled together and had a myriad of fatal injuries.
One of them was missing an entire arm and was missing half his face, caked blood all over his plain clothes. The second simply had no stomach, it just wasn't there. Instead there was a ragged hole that had torn looking edges and a lung hanging down inside the hole. The third was different in the way that it had only one missing finger. The interesting part was the blood caked around its mouth and had two large ragged holes in his upper chest, probably from a thirty caliber rifle, and dozens of littler holes that looked like they had come from a small caliber weapon. None of them bled anything except black, putrid ooze.
Finally a decision had been reached as the officer that had been on the radio declared that a Tactical Police Team was being directed and would be there in about twenty five minutes.
"So, what do we do?" asked one of the cops who was armed with a pump-action twelve-gauge shotgun.
"Sit here and wait," replied the one who had been using the radio, Lauren.
"Damn," said Ryan, "That's a really damn long time to stand here pointing guns at people." There was a murmur of agreement.
"Well too damned bad," answered Lauren.
But about five minutes in things got interesting.
Crack!
"Crap, what was that?" yelled one of the other cops, a new guy whose name was Eric.
"Look! Over by that house!" yelled another officer, Drew, "They got in!"
Indeed, the figures had gotten in the house, and there was a great deal of screaming and gunshots coming from inside. Not little pistol rounds, but the big booming of a shotgun.
Lauren was already back on the radio yelling into it as the people on the other side of the barricade started moaning loudly and reaching vigorously for the police officers.
Someone then swore loudly as a person jumped from a window in the house and landed with a thud on the lawn, a short and fat boy with a revolver. Behind him were arms reaching out of the window, and the shotgun blasts had ended.
As he stood up and began to run towards the thing that caught his eye the most, the flashing police barricades in front of officer Haydukavich, two more figures fell out of the window, one landing funny on its neck and not moving any more except for its head which writhed angrily. The other landed on its right leg and had a femur now sticking out of its thigh as it obliviously crawled towards the boy.
The boy stopped a second later as he realized that there were six people now shambling towards him that were between him and the barricade, with the same going on behind him.
Raising the revolver he fired two rounds at the approaching figures, one round missing completely and the other hitting one person in the gut. He fired several more rounds, three to be exact, missing again, hitting one person in the shoulder, and blowing the top of one person's head clean off.
Cops and boy alike watched as he fell down to the pavement in a bloody heap. It was the only thing that had stopped any of them so far.
By this time Officer Haydukovich and three other cops had jumped the barricades and were running forwards with their weapons raised and one of them yelled for the boy to get down.
He complied, lying on his side as he attempted to reload the revolver as gunfire erupted from the four officers.
Officer Haydukovich pulled the trigger on his pistol, sending a nine-millimeter round low into the abdomen of one figure. Several nine-millimeter rounds and some buckshot from the guns of the other three officers took down two figures in a spray of bone and blood. By then Haydukovich had taken another head into his sights and he pulled the trigger again, sending a third figure to the floor.
There was a loud crack and a figure to everyone's left hit the floor, killed by a five point five six round from the AR-15 of the other group of officers.
A shotgun round, a few more nine-millimeters and two more corpses later the four officers had reached the boy and were helping him to his feet. As the five people retreated the one person that had been crawling on the ground took a bite out of Officer Drew's ankle, crunching bone and flesh alike.
Drew fell to the pavement swearing as his gun clattered to the ground, and the other officers turned to look, Lauren raising her pistol and firing several rounds into the crazed freak, until the hammer struck nothing again and again.
Ejecting the empty clip he put it back in his belt and inserted a fresh one into the gun and cocked it.
Officer Ryan helped up Drew and helped him limp back to the barricades, where the tactical team had arrived and was approaching them already, guns raised.
"Drop your weapons and get down on the ground now!" shouted one of the T.P.T. members. "Down, now!"
"Wait, what? I'm not getting on that fucking ground you moron!" yelled Ryan, straining to support Drew.
"You're all under arrest until further notice for homicide," replied the T.P.T. officer, keeping his MP5 aimed at the officer as the other T.P.T. members headed towards the other six shambling figures, who had diverted their attention back to the other barricade.
There were sounds of gunfire, and the officers could see several more figures hit the ground.
Barnette Magnet School Entrance – 8:49 A.M.
Derik rushed his cousins and brother into the school since they were late, again. Evan and Colin rushed off to their classroom, and Derik walked his brother, George, to his classroom though. Derik was cool with his brother.
After dropping his brother Derik headed upstairs at a leisurely pace and crammed all his stuff in his locker, just as the bell rang to signal class switching.
"Score!" he said to himself. Stalling was something he'd mastered.
Opening his locker again he grabbed his backpack and closed his locker again, making his way towards the school entrance.
While waiting for Ernie and Breanne Derik grabbed a paper and scanned the headlines, before stuffing that in his backpack as well.
The three of them then proceeded to walk together out of school and towards the nearby high school where they took Geometry with the high schoolers.
The way there was cold an uneventful, since the high school was only five hundred feet from Barnette.
The halls were crowded with teenagers as they all switched classes. There were people talking, goofing off, and panicking because they'd lost their homework.
On their way through the crowded halls the three of them would sometimes stop to chat with people they knew.
Today was such a day, and Derik and Ernie were talking with their friend Jeff, whom they knew from a martial arts school they all attended.
"Yea, I hear BioHazard 5 is set to release in 2008!" that was Derik, talking excitedly about the game he couldn't wait to play.
"Yea, and that's a looooong time from now," said Ernie resentfully.
"Yea. Hey, RainGear Chronicles comes out soon! Like only a month left!" and that was Jeff, a tall light brown skinned boy who wore glasses and was very thin and gangly.
Their conversation was interrupted by the bell though, so the three of them went to their separate classes.
Ernie and Derik barely made it in time to avoid getting in trouble and sat down where they were supposed to.
Ernie right behind Breanne because of their last name, and Derik right up against the left wall of the room and towards the back, something he much enjoyed as it allowed him some flexibility in goofing off.
Class started with a review of the homework, which Derik almost aced except for three problems that he made silly mistakes on because of rushing.
Then they took notes. When his teacher said, "Now class, take out your notebooks and a pen or pencil," Derik heard this: "Class, take out your MP3 player and your notebook and a writing utensil and rock on!!!"
He was weird like that.
But he did exactly what he heard, taking out his MP3 player and listening to music with the earphone for his right ear so that nobody, well, the teacher, couldn't see him listening.
And he still churned out grade A notes as usual.
At the end of class Derik, Ernie and, Breanne were beginning to leave when the intercom came on and the vice principal came on telling everyone to go to their homerooms and stay there.
But Derik, Ernie, and Breanne didn't have home rooms so they stayed with their math teacher, Mrs. Helgeson.
Outside dark rain clouds were boiling in the sky.
The intercom came on once more, this time with the principal speaking. "Everyone is to stay where they are, as we are going into a code red lock down. Doors are to be locked and shades pulled down, with all lights turned off. You are allowed to talk, though. Thank you."
These words had a chilling effect. What a strange day this was turning out to be. Why was the school in lock down? Was his brother ok? And why were they still allowed to talk but not have lights on?
These questions bothered him as the four of them sat in the class room, Mrs. Helgeson at her computer busily e-mailing other people as she tried to figure out what was going on, Breanne doing her homework at one desk, Ernie reading a sci-fi book in another corner, and Derik listening to music and playing Solitaire with a pack of cards he'd found in his backpack.
As it turned out, they'd be sitting around for quite a while.
Lathrop High School – 11:54 A.M.
Two hours had passed now, and the room was getting stuffy. Not to mention that, but Derik was getting hungry and he had to piss like a sonuvabitch.
The four of them had had no reliable news so far, and the rain was pounding against the windows. And that mixed with no lights and a hot stuffy room made for a very unpleasant experience.
Derik sat on a desk next to the same wall he'd been at before, and he was contemplating whether or not to just go into the hallway and down to the bathroom and take a piss.
It took him a few minutes, but he decided he would. So, standing up and laying his MP3 on the desk Derik strode over to the door and quietly opened it, unlocking it with his fingers and taping the actual latching part of the door so that it couldn't open.
And he left.
Apparently no one had noticed.
But he ran down the hall towards the bathroom just in case.
Opening the door to the bathroom Derik slipped inside and let it close silently behind him before looking at the bathroom itself.
It was fairly large, about twenty feet long and about seven feet wide with four stalls on the back left walls and three urinals next to it; and right next to those were three sinks. The walls and floor were a dark tan and the stalls a drab green. The only light was from a single fixture and the light it cast was shadowy and not very plentiful. And on top of all that a ridiculously loud fan made it near impossible to hear.
Derik wasted no time in getting out of there, since it creeped him out. Walking up to a urinal he relived himself and then zipped up his pants and washed his hands, then drying them off with paper towels.
He left just as fast.
Now that he was back in the empty hallway, though, he took his time, walking at a leisurely pace as he examined everything. It all checked out with him.
Reaching the door to Mrs. Helgeson's room Derik stopped and cautiously stopped, trying the doorknob as slowly as he could. It wasn't locked.
As he was about to enter the room again Derik thought he'd heard a strange moaning noise, and paused, listening hard. Nothing. It must have been in his imagination.
Sliding quietly back in Derik undid the tape behind him and locked the door, closing it just as quietly.
Glancing over at Mrs. Helgeson he saw that she was asleep. Huh. He'd gone through all that trouble for nothing.
Ah well.
Back to playing Solitaire.
And outside the rain continued to pour, hiding in its shadows abominations that god never intended to exist.
1428 Hans Way - 12:26 P.M.
Jason Williams was sitting at his desk, staring vacantly at the two computer monitors in front of him. One of them had instant messaging windows where he was talking to many different people at the same time while simultaneously working and listening to music. Over in a large air bed behind him sat his wife Michele, who was watching T.V., having taken the day off.
As he was working Jason faintly heard his wife gasp over the sound of his headphones, so he turned to look, just to be sure.
And looking at the television he was confused. Just moments ago she'd been watching a movie on B.B.C., but now there was what appeared to be live news footage showing downtown Fairbanks from some sort of tall rooftop. Down below in the streets was a scene of complete chaos with people screaming and running around, several cars plowing slowly through the mess, and a select few people were stumbling around after the nearest person, arms groping towards the people.
Some popping sort of sounds could be heard off screen, and more screaming as someone fell from a window across the street. The two of them watched in horror as one of the stumbling figures grabbed a hold of someone and bit down into their neck, and again, sending the person writhing to the ground as the quickly died from blood loss and suffocation, lay still as the other person shambled away.
And then came the surprise, as that some freshly dead person rose back from the ground only seventeen seconds later, writhing for a moment before rising back to a standing position and shambling for a nearby woman.
At about this time a male news reporter began to speak: "At around five A.M. today the police received reports of disturbances in various neighborhoods around town and in the surrounding areas. Police and State Troopers responded only to find that the people calling in for missing, leaving behind bloody and confusing crime scenes, or were under assault by large groups of apparently drugged people that had huge gaping wounds in some cases, and seemed to only retain a primitive intelligence and limited motor skills. Some officers recognized these symptoms from the Raccoon incident in Pennsylvania and from the subsequent outbreak in 2001 in New York. The symptoms were from a virus now known and feared as the T-Virus which was able to re-animate the dead, with the added bonus of an unsatiable hunger for human flesh."
"They opened fire and were able to contain a great many potential outbreaks, but it seems it wasn't enough as we can now see from one of our street cameras in downtown Fairbanks, where the dead indeed walk again. The police chief and mayor both released a statement together earlier today, saying that all people are to stay in their homes or workplaces, or wherever they happen to be and stay out of the streets. They are to barricade the structures accordingly, destroying stairways and staying in the upper levels if possible."
"People, it seems, did not listen. According to an estimate given by the police chief the undead numbers are already in the ten thousands area, which is puzzling everyone. How could such a slow acting virus infect so many people that quickly, in only a few hours? The answer seems to be that this virus is bringing the dead back in around one to five minutes, much faster than before. This new crisis has already engulfed most of downtown, bringing all order to shambles."
The talking stopped for a moment as muttering and hurried conversing was heard in the background.
"This just in: the police chief has ordered a curfew. All vehicles seen driving about that do not have permission will be dealt with accordingly. Forces at Ft. Wainwright are being mobilized in order to help curb the undead menace and Martial Law is now engaged, though, without Congressional approval. Forces are also being mobilized elsewhere in Alaska and the lower forty-eight in order to keep the outbreak from spreading. And last, but not least, parents are told to not worry about their children; they will be evacuated by helicopter to Eielson Air Force Base."
The T.V. was switched off as Jason ran downstairs, throwing on his shoes and Michele rummaged through the drawer next to her bedside. She pulled out a small key and set it down on the table, going to the closet and pulling down a finely crafted, beautiful wooden box. Inserting the key she pulled a Ruger Redhawk .44 magnum, which had a scope mounted on the barrel. There was also a box of twenty rounds. Closing the box and grabbing it and the key she raced downstairs, setting it on the kitchen counter. Throwing on her shoes as well she ran outside, joining her husband in the basement downstairs, which was separate from the rest of the house.
He had already pulled out a black Mossberg pump-action shotgun and had it hanging over his shoulder by a strap, and was now rummaging farther back, pulling out a brown rifle case that was currently zipped up.
Handing it to his wife he said, "Hey, bring that into the kitchen and put it on the counter and come back downstairs."
She ran out carrying the rifle case as Jason stood up a metal gun case that had a small lock on it and stood it up next to the door. He then grabbed a compound bow and a quiver full of arrows as well as a .22 rifle that looked like a Thompson submachine gun. It had not full-auto capabilities though.
Running back up towards the door he told Michele to grab the gun case as he deposited what he had now on the counter. Speeding through the door and towards the counter he stopped and deposited his bow and arrows as well as the .22 and the Mossberg on the counter. Stepping back he looked at what they had assembled so far: a .22, a pump-action twelve-gauge, a .44, a compound bow, and a bolt-action rifle. Not enough. Running back downstairs he passed Michele who was busy toting the gun case up to the house. Once he was in the cramped basement again he looked around for anything they may have missed, and after a moment grabbed a spare AR-15 barrel and a black handgun case.
Bringing these upstairs he set them on the counter and promptly ran back outside, making a quick trip to the BigFoot camper trailer, grabbing a .357 revolver and some ammunition for it from a cabinet, and a box of ten fifty caliber rounds from another cabinet before heading back to the house and grabbing two boxes of one hundred .22 long rounds from the back of his jeep.
His wife had already unlocked the case and had taken out a small pump-action .22 and an AR-15 with two thirty round clips and a red dot sight. Also in there were almost a thousand rounds of .22 short and a box of twenty five point five six millimeter rounds for the AR.
It only took them a moment, but they soon had everything laid out on the counter in a neat and orderly way.
A quick inventory showed that they had the following:
First there were long guns, which included two .22's. One was a pump-action that took .22 long rounds, of which there were one thousand, give or take. The other was a Thompson style that took .22 long rounds, of which there were again, about a thousand. There was also the .30-06 Model seven hundred, which was a bolt action rifle with a blued barrel and wooden furniture and had twenty rounds of ammunition and no scope. Then there was the Mossberg 12-gauge pump-action shotgun, which had no ammunition and was completely black. Last was the AR-15, an original Colt and was about twenty years old. It was currently fitted with a Vietnam style barrel but had a spare that was more like an M4's barrel. There were only twenty rounds for the AR.
Then there were the three hand guns. One was a .357 magnum revolver manufactured by Ruger which had 18 rounds and blued metal. The second was a .44 magnum, a Redhawk, which had eighteen rounds as well and was made of stainless steel and had a scope. Lastly, but by far the coolest was an FN Five seveN which Jason had borrowed from his father, who was out of town. It was your standard black semi-auto pistol, except it fired the five point seven millimeter round and had a twenty round clip. For that they had fifty rounds.
And then there were ten rounds of fifty BMG, which had been meant for Jason's father's M82A1 rifle.
"Ok, I want you to take the .357," said Jason, grabbing the gun and its holster, as well as its ammunition and handing it to Michele, who strapped it around her waist and put the box of ammunition in her front pocket. Jason continued: "I'm going to take the semi-auto."
12:41 P.M. - Lathrop High School
Ernie had stopped reading his book, setting it aside to play war with Derik, as had Breanne. The three of them sat around the desk with their cards and all in piles, with Breanne equally close to both guys. They each laid down their three cards, Derik a jack, Breanne a five, and Ernie a queen.
"Powned," Ernie said, scooping up all the cards and putting them in his war spoils pile.
They were each laying down their cards again when gunshots sounded out from outside in the rain. They sounded relatively close.
"Damn man," swore Derik as he jumped up towards the windows, peering into the dim light outside.
There were two people that looked like cops running towards the high school's front doors. They had now reached them and one was desperately trying to open the locked doors. The other cop had turned around and was firing a pistol at an oncoming group of about a dozen shambling figures. The other had given up on the door and had turned around, aiming what looked like a shotgun at the crowd and firing. Apparently it was, even from that distance it hurt Derik's ears somewhat.
"Shit man, someone's gotta get down there and let them in..." Ernie said, pointing out the obvious.
"Yea. You two stay here. I'll be right back..." said Derik, dashing towards the door and flinging it open. Speeding down the hallway Derik nearly fell over at the end where he had to turn and dash for the stairs. Throwing himself down the stairs at dangerous speeds Derik nearly hurt his leg as he jumped the last six steps. Collecting himself he turned and made the final dash for the doors, flinging one open and letting the cops in just in time, and then slamming it shut.
Panting extremely heavily Derik slumped against a nearby wall, muttering that he was 'really bent outta shape'.
"Holy fuck man," gasped one of the cops, leaning against a wall. "Damnit, those sons of bitches don't fucking die!" That was the cop with the shotgun. He was really big, one of those people are just tall and broad, extremely huge. His hair was blond and his eyes were light brown. "Thanks kid. You saved our asses."
"Yea," said the other cop, a medium height man with brown hair and dark brown eyes. "That was fucking close."
Both were soaked from the rain.
"Here, kid, take this," said the big cop, handing Derik the Glock 22 that was on a holster at his side and two fifteen round magazines for it. "It's the least I can do to reward someone for something like that at a time like this."
"Holy... Shit, thanks man," panted Derik, taking the gun and the clips gratefully.
"Don't mention it. Now, what classroom were you in? I'm probably gonna need to explain to your teacher what happened," said the big cop. "By the way, I'm officer Haydukovich, and this is my buddy Drew."
"Nice to meet both of you," said Derik, extending his hand for the others to shake.
"Yea, same here," said Drew, shaking Derik's hand.
"Yea, well, my teacher like, fell asleep or something earlier, and she hasn't woken up... Oh shit." Derik began running again, the two other cops running behind him.
They crashed through the door, guns raised. But everything was as it should be. There were Ernie and Breanne, sitting in one corner looking shocked at the three, and there was Mrs. Helgeson, slumped over her desk. She was still breathing, it seemed.
"Thank god," breathed Derik, lowering the gun.
"What?" asked Ernie, sounding bewildered.
"Yea, geez," said Breanne.
"Thought Mrs. Helgeson was gonna eat you..." muttered Derik.
"What?!" spluttered Ernie, looking even more confused.
"I put two and two together man! You remember that shit that happened in Raccoon City and then in New York? With those morons at Umbrella? Well, Jesus, this looks like the same fucking thing!" explained Derik.
"Exactly," said Drew, who was over by Mrs. Helgeson, where he'd apparently been checking her pulse. "Except, these fuckers seem to rise within seconds of death. It's crazy. The military's been mobilized and everything."
"Damn." said Ernie.
"Yea..." said Breanne.
"So... Why are we staying here, of all places?" asked Derik.
"Good question," said officer Haydukovich. "It looks like the rain is letting up. Our cruiser is outside. We can probably make it there before any undead freaks reach us. We can decide what to do from there."
"What 'bout everyone else?" asked Derik.
"There's choppers on the way to pick them up I wouldn't worry if I were you. But I'm not putting my faith in the military. Now are you guys ready to go?" asked Officer Drew.
"Just a sec, let us get our stuff," said Ernie.
As the three kids got their stuff, putting it all in their backpacks the two cops conversed about the teacher.
"It's weird. She has a faint pulse, and her breathing is light. But I poked her with my knife and she still wouldn't wake up."
"Yea. I dunno what's with her. We'll just leave her here."
1:01 P.M. - 1428 Hans Way
It had stopped raining, the clouds had drained themselves and the sun had finished them off. The sky was almost completely clear already.
The William's house was vastly different from how it had looked a half hour ago. Already Jason and Michele had demolished the stairs up to the porch and boarded the gap in the railing so no one could get up there. Next they had boarded up the rest of the low lying railing up with more wood that had been meant for the nearby garage. Then they had demolished a second set of stairs at the back which led to an enclosed area surrounded by chain link fence.
Next they had called Enthea Craven, a kindly but spry old lady who knew pretty much everyone in the neighborhood and had asked her if she had seen what was going on. She had, and they quickly decided that they would form a safe house at 1429 Hans Way and try and get as many people in the neighborhood there as possible.
She was now going from house to house in the neighborhood, explaining the situation to everyone who was home and leaving notes with instructions to those who weren't. She was accompanied by her son who had been visiting her at the time and Michele. She had the .357 of course, and Enthea's son had been given the .30-06 rifle and all its ammunition by Jason and Michele.
Enthea's husband and Jason stayed behind to gather all supplies, including a single shot bolt action .30-06 and a side-by-side double barrel twelve-gauge, along with twenty rounds for each. There was also a load of canned foods and non-perishables. They then also gathered all dishes and large containers and filled them with water.
They had just finished loading everything useful from Enthea's house into the safe house when a red pick-up truck arrived, a small amount of canned goods and some gear in the back.
A fairly old man who looked to be about forty-five climbed out of the driver's side of the vehicle with a stainless steel revolver in a holster at his side.
"Hey there. This the safe house that Enthea was talkin' 'bout?" he asked, leaning against the side of his truck.
"Yea," answered Jason. "And who might you be?"
"I'm Larry Devenheimer," the man said. "And who might you be?"
"I'm Jason Williams," Jason said, "good to meet you Larry. Now, what sorta supplies have you brought with you?"
"I've got enough canned food for one person for about a week, a bunch of water in various containers, a hammer and some nails, a saw and an axe, uh... lemme think... Ah, yea, I also got several blankets and some various fruits and vegetables and my gun here. It's a .44 magnum like from Dirty Harry, and I have fifty rounds for it."
"Alright, John and I will help you move this stuff up here. Now, move it!"
And so the three men began to load the supplies from the truck up to the deck as the sun began to beat down on them.
1:47 P.M. - The Police Cruiser on University Avenue
The cruiser sped down the deserted four lane road at about seventy-five miles an hour. Every twenty feet or so a shambling figure could be seen waving its arms at them, usually covered in blood. Every once in a while they would pass a wrecked car, or even multiple wrecked vehicles.
Inside the vehicle the two cops sat up front with Officer Drew driving. In back Derik sat on the right side of the vehicle behind officer Haydukovich and Derik on the left behind Officer Drew. Breanne sat between both of them.
"So, where's your grand parent's house?" asked Officer Drew, glancing back at Derik.
"It's right by the post office next to the airport. You know, on Mail Trail Road?" answered Derik, looking out the window.
"So, we need to turn left onto the highway then, right?"
"Yea."
"So, why are we going to your grandparents house, again?" asked officer Haydukovich.
"Well," began Derik, "he's got a very large house with all the windows about four feet off the ground and the doors are really solidly built. Then he's got a monstrous garage about forty feet away from the house, and in there he's got a diesel generator, quite a bit of non-perishable food, and quite a bit of ammunition. On top of that there's a great machine shop in there. And then, if it ever comes down to it there's a pretty damn big garden out back to grow shit in and a greenhouse out front. And last, but not least, there's a whole fleet of batteries ready to use, and I think if used sparingly could go for quite a while."
"Huh. Sounds pretty damn good. But, you said ammo? How much and for what guns?" asked officer Haydukovich.
"Oh, yea. My grandpa has an FN Model 1910 chambered for .380 auto and about six hundred rounds for it, I think? Then he's got a .38 special and about two hundred rounds for that. He also has a coach gun and about fifty rounds for that. Other wise, I'm not sure what guns he has. He does seem to hoard .22 long ammo and a lot of .270 and .308 Winchester hoarded, so I'm assuming he has guns for all of that."
"Yea? Sounds pretty damn good. I feel pretty lucking for coming across someone who knew where such a great safe place is."
"You better be."
By now the cruiser had turned left onto the highway and was just driving over the Chena River, a twenty foot ride murky brown river that fed into the Tanana River. They were over it pretty fast and then began to slow down to take the off ramp onto Airport Way heading down to the post office.
As they drove along a black hawk helicopter flew over head, heading back towards town. After that the airport came into view. It was small compared to the airports of larger cities, but it served its purpose well. In the parking lot quite a few cars could be seen and around eight planes sat grounded on the tarmac, half of them with foreign markings.
Speeding past the airport they came closer to Mail Trail Road, slowing down in order to make the turn.
At the end of the forty foot road was another perpendicular road and a rather rough looking driveway overshadowed by many trees.
"Ok, down the driveway," said Derik, peering around the side of officer Haydukovich's seat.
"Alrighty," said officer Drew as he turned down the driveway. "Left or right?" he asked as he reached a split in the driveway.
"Right," answered Derik. "And there we are."
Before them stood a fairly large two story house with dark cedar siding. There was a clear front entrance with a small front porch and a white door and to the side were a larger deck and another door. The greenhouse was there as well, and two cars sat out front. One was a beautiful old Mercedes, and the other was a gold Eagle. In a small notch in the thick woods sat a large motor home and in another was a silver Eagle.
"Alrighty, just park next to the Mercedes," Derik said, motioning to the empty spot.
Officer Drew pulled the car up to the spot and shut it off, opening his door. It was quiet outside except for the sound of the Chena River nearby and the occasional nearby gunshot.
"Hey, kid, are your grandparents home?" asked officer Haydukovich, sweeping the area with his shotgun raised.
"Nope, they're out of state. My grandpa is getting some surgery done on one of his lungs down on the East Coast. So, they're not here," answered Derik as he walked up to the front door.
"So, how do you plan to get in the damned house?" That was Officer Drew.
"With keys, of course. Duh," replied Derik as he pulled some keys from his left ass pocket.
"Oh."
"Yea." Derik finished unlocking the door and opened it wide. "Make yourselves at home unless your house is a mess."
The room they first entered was an entryway that had a small table with a lamp and a closet, and two doors leading to other parts of the house. One was closed, but the other was open and led on to an 'L' shaped room which had stairs and a closet, and several shelves and tables, a computer tucked away in one corner, and a door next to the computer as well as an archway that led into a living room.
"Follow me, if you all would?" said Derik as he walked on through to the living room. Everyone complied.
The room itself was rectangle shaped and had wooden flooring. There was only one window and that was about six feet wide and four feet high. Spread out across the room were two armchairs, one rocking chair, one 'L' shaped couch, an oil stove on a stone platform an inch across the ground, and a huge piece of storage space/television keeper. The T.V. it surrounded was about five feet across and nearly as tall. The couch partially surrounded a coffee table that sported square glass panes and some beautiful dark wood. The two armchairs and the rocking chair all faced the T.V., while the couch was at the other end of the room, which was approximately twenty feet long and twelve wide. Opposite the one window was a closet, and another open archway seemed to lead to a kitchen/dining area.
"So, this is the main living room, and I figure it will probably be a last defense area to pull back to if it ever comes to that. In here is one gun... Err... The coach gun I think. Ernie, check the closet over there. It's covered by a grey gun sock," explained Derik as he motioned towards the closet. "Officers, if you'll just mosey on into the kitchen there's a thirty-eight special above the refrigerator and a box of ammo. I'll help Ernie rifle through this closet."
The cops nodded as they headed into the kitchen, conversing quietly.
"What do you want me to do?" this was Breanne. Derik had nearly forgotten about her.
"Well... Can you go through all the drawers and cabinets over there and see if there's any ammo or any guns?"
"Ok."
"Hey, is this it?" asked Ernie, pulling a grey gun shaped object from the closet.
"Yes, yes it is. And up here is some ammo... It seems we have two five hundred round boxes of twenty two long rounds and two eight round boxes of three and a half inch shotgun shells... Ah, and another box of thirty three and a half inch magnum rounds. How special. You wanna take these into the kitchen and set them all on the table?"
"Eh, sure."
As Derik and Ernie headed for the kitchen Derik stopped and told Breanne that they'd be in the kitchen. In the kitchen the two police officers were conversing in low voices, but they stopped as soon as they saw Ernie and Derik walk in.
"You guys find it?" Derik asked, setting the ammunition on the table.
"Yea, it's right over there on the counter," answered Officer Haydukavich.
"Alrighty... Lemme' think for a moment..." Derik said as he closed his eyes for a moment. "Ok, so, we have five guns here right now, right? So that's one for each of us. Now, I would personally prefer to hand over this gun to Ernie and take the revolver, and if you don't mind Officer Drew, would you take the coach gun and hand your Glock to Breanne?"
"Well, I'll take it if you guys want. Hell, I'm probably the second biggest guy here anyways."
"Great. So, here you are Ernie..." Said Derik as he handed over the Glock and the two clips he had. "And here you go, officer," he said as he handed Officer Drew the coach gun and the ammunition for it. "And I'll take that and that... Thank you."
At that point Breanne came in empty handed. "I found nothing," she said dejectedly.
"Well, you can take this, then," answered Derik as he handed her the gun and the two clips. "Do you two know how to use those?" he asked.
"Yea, I think I can figure it out." That was Ernie.
"Not a clue." That was Breanne.
"Well... Ernie, you wanna take Breanne into the living room back there and teach her how to use it," asked Derik as he raised an eyebrow quizzically.
"Sure thing man." And the two headed off back into the other room together.
Derik turned around to face the officers again. "Now that were here I figure I can set things straight and hold down the fort. As for you guys... Do you wanna head out and help the local police forces in helping fight the undead or whatever? You could let them all know that there's a safe place here."
"Well, we were talking about it, but we didn't know if we should leave all of you here... But if you guys are alright with it..." that was Officer Drew.
"Yea, we can hold things down pretty well. I'm just remembering my grandpa telling me about two semi-auto .22's he had, so we could probably give back your guys' pistols."
"Alright. Are you sure you guys don't need any help?" asked officer Haydukavich.
"Yea, we'll be fine."
Little did Derik know that those words would be tested over and over in the next few days.
2:44 P.M. - Lathrop High
The sounds of helicopters could be heard overhead and if you looked out the windows you could see helicopters buzzing everywhere. The classrooms were slowly being emptied one at a time and progress was slow, even with the helicopters bringing the students to trucks only at the edges of town.
Inside the halls there were soldiers everywhere, mostly with M16's in their hands, but there was the occasional M249 SAW and an M14 every once in a while.
At the end of the West wing four men were going from classroom to classroom, checking on how many people were there. They had just come to a room next to the stairs that appeared to be empty. It was unlocked though, so they entered. Inside was just a normal classroom that seemed completely fine. Except... There were several overturned desks and everything around the teacher's area was strewn everywhere.
"There doesn't seem to be anybody here. Let's turn off the lights and lock the door behind us," said one soldier, a Sgt. McKellan.
"Yessir," replied another closing it behind them. 'Oh, I forgot to lock it,' he thought to himself, opening it for a moment as he groped around on the knob on the other side. He almost had the knob when he felt the unseen presence of something on the other side. Some BIG.
Pulling his hand out quickly the Pvt. accidentally pulled the door open as well, and what he saw on the other side froze him for a moment.
The creature was most definitely the most fucked up looking thing he had ever seen. It was about eight feet tall, and about three wide. It was just barely humanoid in shape, for it had legs and arms and a head, but that was where the similarities ended. The thing was covered in mottled black skin and had bright red slits for eyes. It had no nose to speak of, nor any hair, and it seemed completely sexless. Its arms ended in three two foot long claws that were viciously curved. But the scariest thing was the mouth, a mouth that seemed to have endless, rippling rows of razor sharp teeth.
It was the last thing he ever saw. A moment later he was tossed aside with one swipe, his left arm and his abdomen horribly mangled.
"Holy shit!" cried McKellan as he turned around, raising his M16 to his shoulder.
Bududap. Bududapbududap!
The Sgt. had begun to fire his M16's three round bursts in quick succession, but the small five point five six rounds were doing little to slow the creature down.
The receiver suddenly clicked dry as the monstrosity began to slowly stumble forwards, seeming to be still getting used to its legs, and McKellan fumbled trying to find another magazine for his weapon.
The thing was just about four feet from him when something loud rattled on full-auto and rounds could be seen tearing up the wall to the left of the creature and the thing's right side. It stopped and slowly turned to the new threat, slowly beginning to walk faster as it became used to its legs.
By now a myriad of guns were firing and there was much yelling as the thing kept down the hall after its new prey, letting out a loud gurgling sound. The rounds didn't seem to do anything at all.
Out of the blue somebody yelled, "Everyone get back! Now!" And just as McKellan turned around the corner to fire again he saw someone with an M203 mounted under their barrel fire from the other end of the hallway, about fifty feet away. He barely had time to get back behind the wall before the grenade hit the thing head on, blowing out its insides and wrecking one of its arms and one of its legs.
Everything was quiet... There wasn't a sound. And then everyone began to breath sighs of relief and someone asked for a casualty report. McKellan moved cautiously forwards towards the thing with his gun raised; even though it was lying face down on the ground he didn't think it would go that easily.
He and four other solders were now surrounding the corpse, and one made the mistake of cautiously kicking the body with his boot. The corpse writhed for a moment before swing its good arm along the floor at the man who had kicked it, effectively cutting out both of his feet and sending him crashing to the floor, where the creature's mouth latched on his right shoulder, the rows of teeth grinding through at an inch a second as the man screamed. By now the four others had started firing again pointblank into the thing, tearing up it back and neck.
It shuddered for a moment and then died for good its mouth still twitching into the now dead soldier. Blood was everywhere, but none of it from the... thing.
McKellan backed up, light headed and weak kneed, slumping against a far wall. Glancing at the nameplate next to the door of the room that the thing had come from, the room that had appeared empty, he read the name 'Helgeson'.
"Ahaha... Maybe we'll call you Helga," he muttered at the huge corpse.
3:23 P.M. - 1428 Hans Way
The safe house was really burgeoning now, with nearly fifteen people already there. By now furniture had been rearranged inside to make space, and canned goods were piled high. All the vehicles that people had used to get there were now parked facing down the driveway just in case, and everyone was busily helping use wood from the garage to barricade the porch and the two doors that went into the house.
Inside in the main bedroom, the only room that remained safe from everyone else, being the master bedroom and all, the T.V. was running and showing the Fox news channel, where the reporter was busily talking about the crisis occurring in Fairbanks. He had been spewing out the same information for some time, talking about what people were speculating it was and how American military forces near and far were being mobilized to contain the threat.
Stopping for a minute he talked with someone off screen, before continuing to say, "Apparently just a few minutes ago the President of the United States agreed to receive help from Russia, and now Russia is already mobilizing its Army, sending upwards of fifty thousand men our way. The situation inside the city seems to worsen as this virus seems to be enhanced compared to last time, taking merely about a half a minute to re-animate the dead, but it seems to take the time it normally would when the victim is still living. It also seems that there are reports of monsters throughout the city. The entire world is watching with baited breath to see how this unfolds, and if rumors are true, it seems Umbrella has struck again."
Granted, no one was in the room to listen to the reporter spout his information as everyone was either downstairs or outside working.
By now the total amount of people was in the twenty's, with around five children, and half the people were military.
The noise from all the work they were doing was quite great, and a side affect of this was that a rather steady flow of the undead were now bearing down upon them in ones and twos, being cut down by one or two shots from various peoples firearms.
Every time one was spotted or heard someone would yell, "Freeze!" and everyone would stop what they were doing and make their way towards the deck if they weren't on it until the zombie was killed. Then everyone began to set about working again. One of the things they were doing was setting up an impromptu raised walkway that was about six feet tall over to the garage, where a moveable ladder provide access to the second floor, where many more supplies were being brought.
The garage itself wasn't finished, and was lacking a roof. It did however have the main beam running down the middle with rafters running from there to the side wall, and each of the walls was sheet rocked. It would be a fine fortress for the moment, and the momentary headquarters where there were a few maps lying about, some open and some not, a radio listening to an emergency broadcast station, and several tables and chairs as well as some hastily constructed beds made of two by fours and plywood.
The house, which was about twenty feet away, was raised off the ground on six large supports that you couldn't see from the outside, as a deck ran all the way around the house except for where a bay window of sorts jutted out. It was an odd house, partially for being off the ground so, and partially because it was in the shape of a hexagon.
Work continued well into the night, the biggest project being the digging of a nine foot deep and four foot wide trench around the buildings except for where the driveway was dug with an excavator one person had had on their property. The dirt that they dug up was used for an earthen berm on the other side.
Derik's Grandparent's House - 5:09 P.M.
The house was quiet for the most part as the clouds outside began to dissipate. Inside the front door had a large couch pushed against it, and on the outside it was boarded up fairly well. The second door, the one to that lead out to the porch from a living room next to the kitchen, also had a couch pushed up next to it, and several boards were nailed across either side.
The three of them, Ernie, Derik, and Breanne, had been Laying low in the house for a little over two hours now, occasionally eating something from the pantry. So far the power was still going, and they had started watching television a little while ago in the main living room. At about this time, though, Derik suddenly got a mental wake-up call as he remembered that they hadn't searched the rest of the house for weapons or even gone out to the garage yet.
"Oh crap," he said out loud.
"What?" asked Ernie as he looked over.
"We haven't searched the rest of the house yet or even gone over to check out the garage," Derik said, still sitting in the chair.
"Well, we should probably do that then, shouldn't we?" asked Ernie, standing up and stretching.
"Yea, guess so. You gonna stay here Breanne?" asked Derik, getting up and looking for his .38 special.
"Sure, I guess," she said, lying on the couch.
"Sounds good, then. Come on Ernie," said Derik, beckoning for Ernie as he walked out of the room towards the door by the computer.
"Why are we going back here?" asked Ernie, who was now carrying his Glock 22.
"Because there's a third door out of here back here, and it's closer to the garage."
"Ohhhhhh..."
"Yea, now come on."
The two of them had just entered the door behind the computer and were now in an L shaped room that was completely white and had two windows. In one corner was a large white chest freezer and along one wall was a bunch of shelving with random crap piled on it. Power tools were lying about in various places as well. At the other end of this room was an archway that lead into a tiny square entryway that had another archway opening into another living room and a thick grey door.
Unlocking the door Derik opened it and said, "Come on, you first."
"Alright," said Ernie, hopping down the two and a half foot drop to the ground, with Derik coming down after him.
In front of them was another motor home, this one showing slight fire damage. To their left was the river and the lawn and to their right was the driveway, some trees, and a path to the garage.
"Thataway!" said Derik with his .38 raised as he walked along the path through some tall pines. They emerged to find the chassis of a car lying under some trees, an old Scout on one side of the driveway, and a white Jeep sat in front of the garage itself, which was a twenty feet tall building with metal siding that was painted red. It was about twenty five feet wide and forty five feet long. At the front of it was a single garage door big enough for nearly any motor home to fit itself through, and right next to that but small in comparison was a side entrance. Piles of random crap were laid up against the side of the garage.
Derik walked up and unlocked the door, and opened it, walking inside.
The room they walked into was huge, easily three quarters of the garage. The floor was concrete with two large oil stains and more random crap was piled against the walls. There were shelves along the top of the wall that could only be reached by ladder and those were filled with various car parts. At the back of the garage was a double door leading into a shop and to the right of that was the frame of a car that had a plastic sheet draped over it. To the left was a ladder leading to a storage area above the workshop and another tooling machine next to the ladder.
"Let's check the work shop first," said Derik as he walked over towards the dark doors. Peering inside the dark shop Derik looked around, but stepped back blinking as Ernie turned on the light with four switches that had been above Derik's head.
The machine shop was filled with tons of tools, machines, boxes, papers, and the occasional pile of junk. A quick once over revealed the stock of a gun sticking out from behind a cabinet on the right of the room.
"Go get that and I'll start to gather all the ammo, said Derik as he motioned towards the shotgun.
"Right," replied Ernie as he made his way towards the gun stock.
Derik headed in the other direction, left, towards the far back left corner of the shop, where he found a huge pile of ammunition boxes on the side of a counter. They was mostly .270 Winchester and .308 Winchester, as well as a box on the floor full of loose ammunition that was next to a plastic bag with some boxes marked .380 auto.
As Ernie came back with the shotgun over his shoulder Derrick was busy stuffing the boxes of ammunition into the cardboard box and into any plastic bags he could find. As he did this he also found a black strap that turned out to be attached to a holder for shotgun shells, which was filled with about ten twelve-gauge three and a half inch magnum rounds.
"Here, take this," Derik said as he handed the shotgun shell holder to Ernie, who started to try and attach it around his waist.
Derik then started to loop the plastic bags around his arm and picked up the box, motioning with his head for Ernie to take the lead back towards the door.
Back through the garage and out the door they went, making it back to the house without incident.
"Hey, Breanne, get over here!" yelled Derik as he set all the ammunition on the kitchen table.
"Yea?" she asked as she walked in from the living room.
"I need you to count all this crap while Ernie and I head back out and try to secure this place a bit more."
"Alright, I guess."
"Good, then, if you need anything just holler or yell or throw something at us, whatever you prefer."
"Sounds good."
Cushman Street Bridge - 6:00 P.M.
There were forty of them on the bridge, twenty on each side maintaining the rows of cars and makeshift barricades. Tables and even a flatbed trailer were spread out in between, covered with various firearms, firearms parts and accessories, ammunition, food, and medical supplies. On the other sides of the barricades that were on the downtown side of the bridge was about seven hundred of the living dead, and on the side opposite downtown there currently weren't any of the living dead but their moans could be heard in the distance along with an increasingly dwindling number of gunshots.
There was, however, a steady flow of people was coming from the nearby gun shop 'Down Under Guns' where they were almost done emptying the shop of weapons and ammunition.
Currently no one was firing at any of the undead on the downtown side except for the few police officers that had managed to hole up on the bridge with the civilians. Two officers were standing about five feet away and were firing controlled, accurate rounds into the mob, dropping one of the undead nearly every time.
Two more had bolt-action rifles set up on the flatbed trailer and were also firing controlled, accurate rounds into the hoard and occasionally scoring the occasional two kills with one shot.
The one remaining officer was standing with the two officers firing handguns and was using his AR-15 to great effect.
And then several people screamed and the rather rhythmical shots from the police officers were interrupted as they turned to see what was happening.
Unfolding before them was a chaotic scene of people rushing for the barricades and more grabbing for guns as a four legged monstrosity tore at the occupants of a jeep that had just arrived. The things body was covered with rough, lumpy skin and the legs were fat and misshapen. The head was elongated, almost like a horse's, and the mouth was pointed and filled with rows of sharp teeth. And the eyes, oh, the eyes were two inches across and a disgusting shade of dark purple.
Scrambling the two handgun bearing officers ran forward and began firing at the creature while the AR-15 wielding officer fired rounds over people's heads from the flatbed trailer.
Meanwhile, the two officers who had been using rifles were now bringing to bear a huge black bolt-action rifle that didn't even have a scope on it, and one of them was rushing to extract a .50 BMG round from a box while the other was piling up sandbags to rest it on.
Now the thing had turned its attention to the people on the bridge and was rushing towards and then climbing over the cars in order to get at them. The various pistols and rifles and shotguns were doing little to slow it down even though it was now bleeding profusely from many holes in its sides.
And then the many various sounds from all the firearms were drowned out as the fifty caliber rifle fired, making several people wince and quite a few blink.
Everything was now quiet, and the monstrosity lay dead, a gaping hole in its chest.
Nome, Alaska - 8:02 P.M.
It was just now beginning to get dark, but several people were still outside in the streets, talking idly.
Their conversations, though, were interrupted by the sounds of planes flying overhead, and when they looked they could see about twenty cargo planes flying from the general area of Russia. About five hours later their sleep was interrupted as several ships flying Russian flags sailed by down the Bering Strait. There were several Sovremenny class Guided Missile Destroyers, two Zubr Pomornik class Amphibious landing craft, four Ropucha class Tank Landing ships, two Kirov class Guided Missile Cruisers, and a Kreml class Aircraft Carrier.
Derik's Grandparent's House - 8:09 P.M.
It was now dead quiet. Derik and Ernie had stopped working only minutes earlier, deciding that their work was good for now.
They had worked for some time now on barricading the area, and had done pretty damn well. First off the thick woods along the driveway parallel to the house had been sealed with some wire fence that had been lying around. After intertwining it through trees and bushes, and then stapling, nailing, and tying it in with all sorts of various materials they were satisfied that it would work for keeping small amounts of the undead out if they came through the trees. Then the two of them cannibalized the neighbor's unfinished home for lumber which they used to erect a wall along the far side of the property right next to the garage which led all the way to where the forest started. The wall was, admittedly, only five feet tall, but they had built it in a way so that it would take a great many undead to topple it.
For the driveway entrance the two had simply parked the motor home in front of it and called that good. Then the woods along the house side of the property got the same wire fence treatment as well as some fortification with various bits of lumber.
Now, though, they were done for the day and were busy fixing themselves food to eat. Derik had found some pizzas in the chest freezer so they decided to cook those while there was still electricity.
On the kitchen table there was ammunition piled up according to caliber. According to Breanne there were about seven-hundred rounds of .380 auto, five-hundred rounds of .270 Winchester, and six-hundred rounds of .308 Winchester. Alongside that there was two-thousand rounds of .22 long rifle, two-hundred rounds of .38 Special, and fifty three and a half inch magnum rounds. Of course, only one caliber actually had a weapon to go with it.
"Now that was some hard shit we did today," said Ernie.
"Damn straight it was. I'm gonna feel that tomorrow," replied Derik. "Hey, Breanne, get your ass in here and cook them pizzas!"
Breanne came into the room and said, "You better be kidding or I might just slap you."
"Err... Yes ma'am, I am just kidding and I am about to go and cook those pizzas. Yessiree," Derik said laughing as he got up and started to unpackage the pizzas.
"So, man, where exactly are the rest of the guns you were talkin' about?" Ernie asked Derik.
"Weeeell, I figure we're just gonna have to get off our asses and look for them," Derik replied.
"Damn."
Outside the sky was just beginning to get dark as the Alaskan spring-yet-summer day started to draw to a close.
"Here, ok, the pizzas are in the oven. When the timer beeps can you take 'em out and let 'em cool for me?" asked Derik. "Cool, thanks."
"What- but, I didn't sa-" spluttered Breanne.
"Yea, well, I'm sorta busy lookin' for boom sticks here," said Derik cutting her off.
"Ugh," she said going back into the living room to watch some more T.V., mostly news reports about the hoards of living dead in Alaska.
"The military seems to have learned its lesson back during the New York outbreak in 2001 and are scrambling their forces as quickly as possible. It is reported right now that the entire city is pretty much completely overtaken, including most of the military base there, Fort Wainwright. As you can see from this aerial shot here the entirety of the downtown is pretty much overrun except for the small pocket on the bridge which is on its own for now. The only other main safe house appears to be in the military fort but that seems to be on its last legs.
"Also seen in this sweep of downtown is the fact that the virus or what ever this may be not only causes the dead to walk again in record time, but it also randomly causes hideous mutations in nearly everything. In this next shot we see Russian naval ships sailing down towards the city of Anchorage where they'll drop off nearly twenty thousand soldiers and vehicles to help us take back and cleanse Fairbanks."
It all seemed so surreal.
Mean while Derik and Ernie were busy searching the entirety of the house for other weapons. Right now they were searching the main living room across from the one Breanne was in. Derik was searching around the T.V. while Ernie looked through some cabinets near Derik's grandfather's chair.
"Hey, check this out," said Ernie as he held up a box. On it was a picture of a pistol and in the corner was something saying that it was a BB-gun.
"Well, it appears to be a BB gun, but go throw it on the table anyways," said Derik, turning back to start looking some more. He came upon an equally nice if not better find in the shape of a Walther P22 semi-automatic .22 rim fire pistol.
After several hours of looking the three of them had a final armament of: a Colt Python .357, a .270 Winchester bolt-action rifle, a .308 Winchester bolt-action rifle, the .38 revolver, the old 12-gauge, the two Glocks, a .380 automatic, several various bb-guns, and two semi-automatic .22s, one of them the P22 and the other an old Colt. That was all that they'd found anyways.
It was now nearly eleven at night, and they hadn't been bothered at all, AND the power still hadn't gone out.
Since they were getting tired the three of them decided it was time to go to sleep. Breanne was situated in the biggest bed in the biggest room upstairs just because she was Breanne and was a girl.
Ernie was going to sleep in a smaller room in a smaller bed.
Derik, however, grabbed several cans of Pepsi, some candy, a coat and one of his grandfather's hats, and a blanket because he would be elsewhere that night. Heading outside Derik pulled a ladder out from one of the sheds and set it up against the side of the house and began ferrying his things up to the roof, storing them in a nook where the three ridges on the house's roof met up next to the satellite dish. He then climbed back down and went into the kitchen and examined all the various weapons.
Staring blankly in his exhaustion he shook his head hard and then said aloud to himself, "Arg," and picked up the .308 because it had a sling and a scope, and scooped up two boxes of ammunition. After he had slung the rifle over his shoulder Derik took two boxes of .38 ammunition and then decided to head back up to the roof.
And that was where he expected to stay for the night, huddled under a blanket and a coat, occasionally drinking some soda or eating some candy and keeping an eye on things.
11:38 P.M. - 1428 Hans Way
People were asleep in various areas downstairs, sleeping together or apart depending on how they were related. Over forty people resided there now, bringing with them all sorts of things.
In the second story of the garage there were supplies and tables, and some furniture just lying about. Two people were there standing watch, and there was one other person on the porch keeping an eye on things.
Occasionally a shot would flash out in the night.
Derik's Grandparent's House - 11:54 P.M
There was a faint rustling and a large blot in the sky that got bigger and bigger and then...
With a crash and snapping of branches a soldier of some sort parachuted right into the middle of the property, getting caught on a tree.
As he swung from side to side from his parachute the man began to reach for a knife that was strapped to his thigh and at the same time swore in rapid Russian.
Derik kept the rifle trained on him while reaching for a round; he was weary of everything right now.
The man finally cut himself free and fell to the ground, only to yell out in pain as his ankle cracked.
Risking his cover Derik raised a hand and yelled, "Hey, buddy, you gonna shoot me if I come down there?"
The response was a rapid string of Russian words and then the Russian pulled a pistol out from a holster on his thigh and began to fire in rapid succession, missing with every shot.
There was silence for a moment as the Russian struggled to reload his firearm and Derik, now scared shitless, peeked back over the edge of the roof, aimed the rifle, slowly pulled back on the trigger, and fired.
Kerplow!
The recoil hit Derik hard in the shoulder, and the Russian yelled out in pain again.
Derik could now see that he had dropped his gun and was clutching his shoulder.
Loading another round into the bolt-action rifle Derik aimed and fired again, and the soldier lay still.
Somewhere in the house below a clock rang midnight.
Dundundun!
Well, there's roughly 13,036 words for you to eat. I estimate another two months before there is any more.
Any constructive criticism would be nice as always, or just what you thought of the chapter. I think this will be the format that I'm gonna use for the rest of the story.
Well, good day to you all, since I've got to get going or my mom will hurt me.
-Bert
