Hello, children. What's up?
I posted a version of the fic on FESS recently, so if you're a member of that site go check it out.
Also, if you look at it, don't be afraid to let me know that you read it and what you found wrong with it. I'm always looking for feedback, and if you don't flame me I will greatly appreciate it and work on things that need improvement. I'm also open to answer any questions you might have about the text, so go ahead and ask if you want.
That being said, I present to you the next chapter of this story. Enjoy!
Wednesday, July 14
5:01 A.M.
Shadow stood in the graveyard at the Station Park in the center of the city. He held a bouquet of flowers in front of his chest, and he stood alone in the rain.
He stood in front of the grave of Knuckles the Echidna, eyes staring forward solemnly yet with some kind of control over his being. He had promised himself he would not cry in the early morning hours; even though nobody could see him in the darkness of five o'clock A.M. he held on to this.
The hedgehog did it more for himself and Knuckles than anything, really. On his deathbed, Shadow had promised Knuckles not to cry whenever he visited the grave, so Shadow would cling to the promise.
He stood there, remembering all of the good times he had with the echidna. He may have gone to rest to a horrifying demise, but he would not remember Knuckles for his illness; despite the fact that Knuckles was ill with AIDS, Shadow would remember him as the cheerful person that he was opt to be and nothing more.
Eventually, after the last good memory of Knuckles wore down, he knelt in front of the grave and placed the bouquet there. He then patted the damp earth that stood watch above Knuckles' body for what would be eternity.
"I'll miss ya, man," said Shadow, adopting Knuckles' vernacular for one of the last times Shadow would see the echidna.
The hedgehog then stood up and walked away.
As he walked, he felt a small rumble on his foot by the grave next to him.
It subsided after a little, though, so the hedgehog shrugged and dismissed it as he continued walking in the early morning hours.
9:05 A.M.
Rouge walked into the building of her workplace, a little nervous from the events of the night before. She saw Cody standing guard in the lobby the way he normally did, and she thanked God that she had somebody she could talk to about the events of last night.
Therefore, she made a beeline for the dog as he smiled upon seeing her.
"Morning, Rouge," said Cody.
Rouge looked around nervously.
"Any reason you're nervous right now?" asked Cody.
Rouge nodded.
"Would you keep it a secret?" signed Rouge promptly.
"Sure, sure," said Cody. "What happened?"
"I was at the top floor last night," signed Rouge. "Government work."
Cody nodded, understanding what was going on in Rouge's head. After all, nobody was permitted to the top three floors of the building without special permission, and if Rouge had somehow snuck out of there alive there must have been something up there.
"So what was in there?" asked Cody.
"I don't know," signed Rouge. "The CEO was having a press conference up there, and he said something about a cure for death!"
Cody was very surprised to see the bit about curing death; the dog knew as well as anybody that trying to raise the dead was similar in concept to teaching a car how to recite the ABC's; it was absurd and very immoral in nature.
"And what happened then?" asked Cody.
"I have no idea," signed Rouge. "Because next thing I know, I try to retrieve a sample and it all goes to hell when the subjects are released. I don't know what happened afterwards. I left after that."
"Subjects?" asked Cody.
"That's what the CEO referred to them as," signed Rouge. "They're basically people that have been revived by some virus or whatever. They are still dead, though! They stand and breath and the whole nine yards, but they still look like they're decomposing!"
Cody nodded, expression grave.
"Well then," said the dog. "With that, we can be certain that—"
Cody noticed the bewildered expression of Rouge, who happened to be looking at the ceiling in this particular moment in time.
"What?" asked Cody.
Rouge looked at Cody.
"You can't hear it," signed the bat. "It's a terrible moaning. Coming from the top floors."
Indeed, several people in the lobby had stopped to stare at the top floor, for an unintelligible series of moaning and groaning was beginning to arise from the top floors.
The moaning was dying away as several elevators showed '73' or '74' above them.
The numbers rapidly decreased to one as the moaning began to die down.
And then, the doors opened.
Out paraded a masquerade of hideous forms. All of them had eyes white as snow with nothing to prove they once had irises and pupils. All of them looked as if they had been in the grave for a long time; knife wounds, bullet holes, anything that signified unnatural death lay imprinted on their flesh, showing the gradual decay of the tissues of the body. Some were so badly decomposed that the glint of light off of a white bone was seen from these. Some looked as if they had been eaten shortly before being induced in the hideous state they were in, as bite marks covered their flesh and loose tatters of what used to be muscle were also seen hanging limply as the figures trudged on in their never-ending march into the lobby.
The sight horrified everybody, even the normally stoic Cody. Thus, everybody who had a sense of cowardice either dove straight for the door or the security guard.
However, the doors refused to open as the people crowded in the doorway in their frantic attempts to escape. Everybody was stuck in the doorway, and thus those that were trying to get out were stuck outside.
However, they stopped thrashing around when they noticed that other figures similar to the ones that were found inside were already stomping around the surrounding street. Some stray civilians were found running for their lives in the terror, but for the most part the animated bodies inhabited the streets.
This only led to more clamor as the people tried to get out.
However, by then it was already too late for most people. Rouge and Cody had jumped behind a desk as soon as the clerks had emptied it, and they were there to witness the sheer power of the mass of hideous creatures.
For soon, bodies not belonging to the hoard had begun to collapse as the fists of the creatures banged against the heads of the people over and over again until they slumped to the floor dead. Most of them went on to other people, but a few stray ones went to the dead ones.
When the stray ones went to the dead people, they inspected the body seemingly the way a child would inspect a new toy.
Then they would bring an arm or any different appendage up to their mouth, and a sickening crunch of human flesh being eaten came from within their mouths as the creatures bit down.
Upon seeing this sight, Rouge nearly vomited. It was only with Cody's reassuring touch that she kept her composure.
"And what do we do now?" asked Rouge, somehow managing to remember to sign her question amidst the shock of what she had seen.
"There's a secret passage over here that we use as the Alamo if anything goes unbelievably wrong," said Cody. "Take my hand."
Rouge obeyed, and her hand linked with Cody's hand.
Then, the bat felt her body being abruptly lifted and pulled as Cody made a break for the door that led to where the offices for the clerks were, and then he raced past the empty cubicles before coming across a wall. He promptly poked this with a short jolt from his taser, and the wall opened.
Cody then grabbed Rouge and went right down the passageway, leaving the hideous mass and the dying people behind him.
10:15 A.M.
Laughter went up high in Tails' apartment as Sonic read passages from one of his summer reading assignments to Tails.
"Wow," said Tails. "That made no sense."
"You bet it didn't," said Sonic. "Half the things that happen in the book don't even make sense. It's Catch 22. The 'catch' catches itself in ill logic, ya know?"
"Yes," said Tails. "But why would Milo bomb his own squadron?"
"So he can get a profit," said Sonic, finger pointed up. "Remember that he constantly tells everybody that they have a share and they shut up about things."
"Right, right," said Tails. "And then, what happens?"
"Well, when I go to this page over here, we have a certain Lieutenant Scheisskopf getting promoted to general," said Sonic as he flipped a few pages. "Listen to this! 'Do you know what he wants? He wants us to march. He wants everybody to march!'"
Tails laughed a while, with Sonic chuckling as he looked at the fox with a smile on his face.
"Only natural for somebody who only cares about people marching," said Tails.
"You don't say," said Sonic.
"Yeah," said Tails.
"So, that's all I'm going to go into with that one," said Sonic as he closed the book and put it down on the coffee table. "Anything else?"
"How far are you in The Awakening?" asked Tails.
"Oh, that?" asked Sonic, picking up the volume. "God, I have to constantly pat myself in the face to keep myself from falling asleep when I read it."
"Yeah," said Tails.
Around this time, a soft murmur began to build, but neither humanoid creature noticed it since it was so soft.
"The problem is the language," said Sonic. "The language is too fancy for my tastes."
"I can imagine it being so," said Tails. "After all, you never have liked stuff in archaic languages anyway."
"Yeah," said Sonic. "They get boring really quickly."
The murmur had begun to build, and Tails was visibly annoyed by it.
"Okay, who here is having a party?" asked Tails.
"What, getting too loud for you?" asked Sonic.
"Yes," said Tails. "I wish they would quiet down."
The murmur eventually rose to intelligible murmurs. The hedgehog looked at the fox this time.
"I think they're too loud," said Sonic.
Tails nodded, and the hedgehog stood in front of the door.
"Hey, you!" shouted Sonic, quills rising on his head as he yelled. "You're getting a bit rowdy! Be quiet, for crying out loud!"
He waited, and the groans kept on rising in volume.
"Okay, that does it," said Sonic as he opened the door and poked his head outside of the doorway. "Hey, you! Shut—!"
Sonic suddenly stepped back.
"Sonic?" asked Tails.
The hedgehog turned to Tails, panic in his eyes.
"Tails, we gotta get out of here," said Sonic. "Something isn't good here."
"What's the matter?" asked Tails.
A moan came from the door, and the fox jumped in fright as he saw what looked like a partially decomposed person standing in the doorway with blank eyes.
"That's the matter," said Sonic. "We need to get to the fire escape!"
"But why?" asked Tails. "I'm sure he can't do anything."
"I see dead people in the halls," said Sonic.
This alarmed the fox more than anything, and he instantly recognized that Sonic was not trying to recreate something straight out of a horror movie as a practical joke.
After all, what kind of make-up existed for pupils to be completely white?
Thus, Tails took Sonic's hand, and in less than an instant Sonic had bounded out of the window that was next to the fire escape with a loud shattering of glass accompanying the two of them.
12:13 P.M.
Wave stood with her hands on her hips, waiting for somebody to come.
Jet, Wave and Storm had arrived on time to the function that they went to every Wednesday of the month. Since the Babylon Rogues were a relatively small gang, they really were under fragile influence. Therefore, they turned to the Chaotix gang for help. Chaotix was slightly larger, and it was also trained better in criminal actions. Therefore, the two agreed to help each other as long as the Babylon Rogues would be able to pay at least thirty dollars every month.
As they stood there waiting, a purple chameleon stepped into the light of the bright Wednesday afternoon sun.
"'Sup?" asked Jet.
"A lot," said the chameleon as he walked.
Wave looked at the chameleon, finding he was alone.
"That's odd, Espio," said the swallow. "Where are Vector and Charmy?"
"I wish I knew," said Espio. "They were supposed to be at a function for a new gang that had formed, but they disappeared."
"And why didn't you go?" asked Jet.
"I was busy," said Espio. "You know how many functions I have to go to in a month."
"Yeah," said Jet. "Anyways, we have the thirty dollars, right here."
Jet said this as he walked forward and presented a twenty dollar bill and a ten dollar bill.
"Good," said Espio. "Have you guys heard the moaning that's been in place all day?"
"Yeah," said Jet. "I haven't figured out why, though. I haven't travelled down any streets, so I can't tell what's going on here."
It was true, really; when Jet had woken up at eleven in the morning that day, he had heard an odd undertone of moans. Wave and Storm were not up yet, so Jet woke them up and directed them through the sewer system as was customary of them to do to avoid being spotted. Whatever it was, though, they would have to find out.
"I know what you mean," said Espio. "Me? I'm too good at roof-jumping to care."
"It's odd, actually," said Wave. "Yesterday everything was normal, and now we get this groaning. What is that about?"
"I don't know," said Espio.
The moaning that had served as an undertone had suddenly struck a high note right behind Storm as several individual moans were heard.
All four of the people at the function turned around to find a crowd of partly-decomposed people cornering them in the alley they were in.
At the head of the group were a crocodile and a bee, both of whom had knife marks in their skin.
"Vector?" asked Espio. "Charmy?"
A grunt came as a response.
The group then lurched forward, walking towards the four.
"Whoa, whoa," said Wave. "Can't we settle this the nice way?"
The response came in the form of a brusque grunt from one of the crowd.
"Okay, then…" said Wave.
They kept on walking backwards, little beads of sweat forming on their faces.
"This is bad…" said Jet as he looked behind him to find the wall there.
As the group approached, Wave spotted a series of metal platforms and stairs high on the side of the building.
"Is that a fire escape?" asked Wave as she pointed to it.
The others looked up and Jet nodded.
"It sure is," said Jet. "Storm, give us a lift up there, will ya?"
"Sure," said Storm, going into the position.
"Okay, Espio," said Jet. "You first."
"No," said Espio. "You first."
"Why?" asked Jet. "You lead Chaotix! You—!"
"There are plenty of people that can replace me," said Espio. "You need to go first. Just do it!"
"Well, okay," said Jet as the crowd of undead creatures approached. "But don't expect me to feel good about it."
Jet walked to Storm, then jumped on his hand as the albatross pitched Jet high enough to get him to the railing of the lowest platform. The hawk grabbed onto this, and after a bit of kicking to find the platform he climbed over.
"Okay, who's next?" asked Jet as he turned around.
However, he suddenly noticed that nobody else could possibly be next, for the hoard was too close to the wall.
"What in…?" asked Jet.
"Jet!" shouted Wave. "Get out of here!"
"What?" asked Jet. "But I can't!"
"Just do it!" shouted Espio. "They'll be after you next!"
The hoard inched ever closer, and then the hoard was right next to the group of gang members.
Then, fists sailed onto the gang members, and yells of pain came from all three of the people he had left behind.
Jet did not need additional convincing. Immediately afterwards he darted up the stairs of the fire escape, finally getting off at the roof and huddling in a corner both in fright and in sadness that his friends were apparently dead.
2:35 P.M.
Shadow sipped his tea as he sat in his apartment.
Apparently, Shadow was not needed in his job as a waiter at a local diner; he had received no call to remind him of his shift, and so he stayed at his house sipping green tea to his heart's content.
It gave him time to think, actually. He thought about Knuckles and their relationship.
He also had time to think about how his life had changed. The hedgehog had gone through a lot, and thus he had to go through the tedious motions of going through his memory and thinking about various things.
As he tumbled the thoughts in his head, he could not help but notice that there was still something missing in his life. Knuckles had managed to fill the gap for the two years they had known each other, but the hedgehog realized that he still needed whatever was in there.
Shadow had no idea what this was, however. He knew it was important, but he had no idea what it was. Therefore, he would have to talk to his friends to find out what was going on.
The groaning that was going on outside had begun to get louder. Shadow sighed mentally, getting tired of all of the groaning. For some reason, he had gotten back home on a silent street to sleep, and then he had woken up a few hours later to a light groaning, and it started to grow. The hedgehog was very annoyed by the groaning, and he was about to whip the shotgun from the wall so he could blow a few heads off.
However, the hedgehog kept his patience and thought as the groaning continued to rise.
As he sipped his tea, he eventually heard the groaning outside of his door as intelligible grunts and moans.
Shadow sighed and set his tea on the counter.
"All right, that does it!" said Shadow.
He walked up to the door and stood in front of it, placing his hands on his hips as he did.
"What the hell do you want?" asked Shadow.
He received no verbal reply.
However, a fist sailed straight through the door, puncturing the wood and revealing a bloody claw.
Shadow immediately knew what this meant; whoever was at the other side of the door, they were trying to break in.
The hedgehog bolted for the cabinet that Knuckles kept the shotgun in and opened it. After this, he loaded it with one of the many unused cartridges in there. He then walked to the door and aimed at the flailing fist.
"I'll give you ten seconds to get away from the door!" shouted Shadow. "Otherwise, I fire!"
Shadow gave a verbal countdown as if to accentuate his point. After eight seconds and noticing the groaning had not stopped and the fist had not stopped flailing, Shadow prepared to fire.
Then, when the countdown reached ten Shadow pulled the trigger.
The hand did not stop flailing, even though Shadow had shot it. After watching the bloody hand flail in the hole, he decided that the fist was not enough.
Therefore, he quickly calculated where the head would be, and then he aimed at that and fired.
The first shot did not make it, but the hedgehog shot at the area again before the flailing hand stopped.
Instead, it simply slumped forward.
Shadow stood there, and then he smacked himself in the forehead for his stupidity.
"Oh, great," said Shadow. "Now that's another person I have to contend with."
Shadow opened the door to see who would have tried to break in.
His expression altered in curiousness when he found that Knuckles' dead body was laying in front of him with a few new bullet holes in his head.
Shadow scowled and looked at a direction in the hall.
"All right!" shouted the hedgehog. "What kind of sick practical joke is this?"
However, looking both ways, he found several people around him.
None of them were normal. In fact, they should have been dead by the way the flies flittered around their partially decomposed skin.
Shadow simply shook his head and went back into his apartment. He then grabbed all of the cartridges in the shelf, stored them in a small little shopping bag that Knuckles had kept for his use in convenience stores, and walked out the door.
He was greeted by a set of groans as the zombies surrounded him. The hedgehog looked around, and noticed that to his right the crowd was only consisting of about five of the dead people.
Shadow shrugged and then prepared to fire the shotgun to his right.
"Well, if you don't answer me I assume you mean me harm," said Shadow. "Therefore, get out of the way before I shoot."
As the dead creatures approached and apparently failed to follow his instructions, the hedgehog fired at one of them. Afterwards, he ran, kicked another zombie out of the way, and made a break for the stairwell as he flew past the other three.
4:17 P.M.
Mighty sat hunched over the desk that he had inhabited for the past few days when Cream was drawing images with various crayons that were scattered all over the table. For being crayons on blank paper, the images did tend to come out good in the end, but Mighty still wished that she had access to better materials than what most children her age were stuck with.
Still, watching her was better than having no ideas for writing a novel.
He knew that life was hard, but he had no idea it would be this way with his job, especially during a bout of writer's block.
Still, Mighty watched.
Finally, Cream looked up at him when she noticed he was watching.
"What's the matter?" asked Cream.
Mighty sighed and rubbed his head. He figured he would have to tell.
"I just can't think of any ideas," said Mighty. "My rough draft is almost done, but I just can't find a good ending."
"But you have forever to think of it, right?" asked Cream.
"No," said Mighty. "I have to get it to the publishers by next Tuesday. Otherwise, I'm out of a job and my degree won't be worth anything."
"What's the story about?" asked Cream.
"Well, it's rather complicated," said Mighty. "Plus, it has… parent… material."
"Oh," said Cream. "I would like to help though!"
"It's okay," said Mighty. "I'll think of something. You keep drawing over there."
Cream nodded and returned to her crayons.
Mighty let out a silent sigh and sat back in his chair as he thought as hard as he could.
Suddenly, though, the light fixture above buzzed loudly as the light dimmed and came back. The buzz remained, and afterwards the lights went out.
Cream and Mighty were both shocked by events, and they were both very bewildered by what had happened.
However, Cream did not scream as Mighty figured she would.
"What was that?" asked Cream.
"That's a good question," said Mighty. "I'm calling some people I know. We'll get the power back up in a bit."
Mighty then walked to the phone; the electricity had gone out, but the sun was still up and it was pretty easy to walk to the stand. He dialed a number, but all he got was the incessant tone of the operator being unavailable.
He tried dialing the number again and again, but it was of no use.
Finally, he slammed the phone back into the holster in frustration and turned to Cream, who had her ear pressed against the doorway.
This was when Mighty realized that the air conditioning unit was still on.
"Wait," said the armadillo. "How come the AC is still on?"
"I don't think it's the AC," said Cream.
"Why do you say that?" asked Mighty.
"Listen here," said Cream, pointing at the door.
Mighty went up to it and brought his ear next to the door.
It was not the constant rumble of the AC he had heard, but rather a low moaning coming from within the hallway.
Mighty opened the door, and looked around to find a pack of hideous people standing at the staircase.
The armadillo promptly closed the door.
"Cream?" he asked.
"Yes?" asked the young girl.
"I need you to hold some things for me," said the armadillo as he went to his bedroom.
"What do you want me to hold?" asked Cream as he entered and opened the night table.
"I'll give it to you," said Mighty, going through the drawer to find all of the lead balls that were inside of the thing and holding as many as he could in one hand before leaving them on the bed and taking out a revolver from the drawer.
He then proceeded to load six pellets into the revolver, then found six more in the drawer. Mighty had never been an advocate of excessive use of guns, but he still owned one to make sure he was safe at night, and in a situation such as this he was sure they would come in handy against the creatures guarding the stairwell.
After gathering the pellets, he walked out and handed the pellets to Cream, who had stood there expectantly.
"Okay," said Mighty. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes," said Cream as she stuffed the pellets into her pockets.
"Good," said Mighty. "I want you to stay next to me no matter what, and when I tell you to 'give me some ammo', I want you to fish into those pockets and get me six of the things I gave you. Understand?"
"Where are we going?" asked Cream.
"I don't think we can stay here," said Mighty. "Just stay close and trust me on this one."
Cream nodded, and Mighty kicked the door down.
Cream beheld the creatures at the stairwell upon exiting, and only then did she scream as Mighty grabbed her hand and went by them, shooting them in the head with the revolver as he went.
6:17 P.M.
The sun had begun to set unusually early that evening, emitting a bloody glow as it settled behind the buildings that had once housed several thousand people.
However, this was the least of Rouge and Cody's problems. They had to deal with a mass of undead creatures in the city that were all around them, and thus Rouge and Cody had to be aware of what was going on around them.
Just then, they had left Rouge's apartment from stocking up on weapons, ammunition, and supplies that they would need for their long standoff alone in the city. Over his shoulder the dog held a bag containing all of the food and water that the two would need for their time alone. Rouge held a semi-automatic rifle and a Desert Eagle in her hands, the semi-automatic perched on her right shoulder in case Cody had to take it for use against the hoard.
Cody and Rouge looked around, and then they faced each other.
The bat placed the weapons on the floor and stood up to face the dog.
"So what do we do now?" signed the bat.
Cody looked ahead, then looked to his right where the hallway stretched into the elevators.
"Let's go find out if anybody else survived this apparent pandemic," said Cody.
Rouge nodded, and she then stooped down to collect the weapons she needed.