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Death Toll: The Town/Boathouse Finale
Bill sat on the floor with his back against the safe house door. He looked at the bloody corpse that was before him, a young man that was filled with many holes, all of which were caused by him and the Bowie knife he had in his possession. He could hear the other survivors on the top level of the bunker-like Safe House rummaging through supplies and helping themselves to the food that was stored in cans; it was the only thing they were able to eat since before being evacuated from the hospital, which felt like forever.
"Hey, Zoey, you think you can shoot any of those fuckers out there?" he could hear Francis ask. "I'll bet you five bucks you can't even shoot one of 'em."
Bill heard the loud bang of the Hunting Rifle ring out, following by a sigh from Francis. He heard him mutter "double or nothin'" before another shot rang out and he sighed once again, offering the same option.
Louis climbed down the wooden ladder and watched the corpse with Bill. Just like the Church Guy had said earlier about somebody claiming they were immune last time, Bill saw two other bodies within the safe house, not far away from the Church Guy's corpse. One appeared to have transformed into a Smoker, while the other unfortunate girl became a common infected.
"What are you thinking about?" Louis asked, trying to sound as delicate as he possibly can.
"I'm thinking about my son," Bill said, lighting a cigarette from a pack he ironically swiped from the pocket of the Smoker infected; he really needed one at that moment. After he took a long pull and exhaled all the burn out of his lungs, he rubbed his tired eyelids with his thumb and index finger. "I don't know where the hell he is right now or if he's safe. Looking at this kid here…I don't know. He looks to be around the same age as my son. And I killed him. He was someone's son. Do you think someone killed my son, Louis? Do you think there's another animal like me out there capable of doing this to a young man?"
"I think there are many of us out there, Bill; this kid was no exception. We're all losing it a little bit, and it doesn't make things any more right, but at least we're alive. This kid would've turned and attacked us like all the others. Even though the end came differently, it came nonetheless—we can't blame you for something we all would've done if we were the first ones in."
"That's still no excuse," Bill sighed, shaking his head. "When I came bursting through that door, I lost all control of myself. It felt like my old days back in 'Nam: I was in the jungle, and he was a Vietcong soldier. I had to kill him any way I could; it was instinct. I was back in the shit my mind tried so hard to leave behind. With Beatrice gone, it feels like I'm slowly slipping back into that reality."
"Well, we could really use a soldier right now, not a husband," Louis answered, reaching his hand out for Bill to grab, which he did. Lifting him up, Louis whispered, "You're the one who's holding us all together, Bill. I just wanted you to remember that. We see you down and out or out of the loop, we start to get a little hesitant about ourselves. You just need to try to hold it together. I know it's hard; there are still so many times my body burns inside when I pull that trigger, or the fear when it's entirely quiet, but I need to keep that in the back of my mind. This is the world we live in now, Bill. We need to get used to it."
Bill nodded slowly, receiving a nod and a pat on the shoulder from Louis. He was a surprising individual; at first he seemed like such a coward who Bill thought would slow them down or eventually get them all killed, but here he was, holding his own; that was something Bill could really aspire for. He grabbed his M16 and slung it over his shoulder, finished the cigarette he was smoking and crushed it under his boot.
"Hey, what's the hold up?" Francis yelled from upstairs. "Are we leaving or staying? We stay any longer and I'm gonna lose all my money to Zoey."
"Riverside's a bust," Louis called back "Let's just get to the river. We'll see what we can find there."
"That's better than my plan," Francis answered.
"What was that?" Louis asked, scratching his head.
"I didn't have one."
Bill shook his head grinned a little; he really needed something to get him in an uplifting mood, and Francis was usually filled with quirks or remarks that made one want to laugh. Whether or not he did it purposely, Bill didn't know, it was still amusing to him. When Bill climbed the wooden ladder to the second level, he could see newspaper clippings littered against the floor, as well as a can of beans the others had left for him to eat.
He took his first gracious bite and savored the flavor for as long as he could. He hadn't had anything to eat in a long while like everyone else, and something like a simple can of beans made his taste buds explode with the entire flavor. After his first bite, he wolfed down the remaining contents of the can and threw it to the side, wiping the small trickle of juice that saturated itself in his beard.
"See? That's nasty!" Francis winced. "That's what you gotta shave that shit off your face, old man. Or you could keep a goatee like me. See how it's nice and not bushy and grey and old like you?"
"Put a lid on it, Francis," Bill grinned, shuffling forward. "We need to get to the river and see if we can contact those folks that helicopter driver was telling us about."
Once Bill left the safe house, he looked beyond at a crumbling city, a crumbling society. He hadn't witnessed such a disastrous site since leaving Dodge, but what he saw made him want to vomit. Several infected were pacing back and forth in the street not too far from where they were. There were two buses that crashed into the surrounding wall outside the church, and a truck on the opposite side that had done the same thing, giving the survivors a route to leave the area.
Bill scoped his surroundings and shook his head; there were a lot of those infected in the streets and they could easily flank them if they were to go down. He turned to Zoey and nodded to her Hunting Rifle. "Think you can thin their ranks a bit before we head down there? There are some pretty long targets."
"Yeah, I can manage," she answered. "My dad taught me how to use this rifle pretty well." She gracefully took a knee and used her scope to pick off some of the infected that were to her left, protected from view by the wall surrounding the church. She waited until the slightest piece of flesh appeared in her crosshairs and fired, usually being rewarded by a burst of blood or a body collapsing onto the ground. She reloaded her rifle and look through her scope once again, taking down three more infected before she looked back to Bill and shook her head, indicating that that was all she could do from the vantage point they were currently on.
"All right, people, let's move," Bill ordered, slinging his M16 across his back and climbing down the wooden ladder to his left. Once on the ground level, he took a knee and waited for the other survivors to descend as well. And when he was waiting, he saw a blur flash across his eyes, much too quick to be some common infected. "Careful," he warned the others. "I think I heard a goddamn Hunter around."
Francis had his 9mm out because of the poor range of his shotgun. He ran ahead of Bill and crept slowly towards the shattered wall before the blur flew across the sky and landed right on top of him, attempting to claw him to pieces.
Zoey, without even hesitating, took an unscoped shot at the Hunter and saw his chest cavity blow away, letting out once yelp of pain before sliding off of Francis. When Francis arose, he spit on the Hunter's corpse and looked back to the survivors. "What?" he asked. "I came out here to lure him out so you guys could shoot him. Can't a guy do something decent for a change?"
Louis chuckled. "So you're telling me that you intentionally let that Hunter jump on you so we would shoot it?"
"Yeah, that's what I said. I hate repeating myself."
Passing the crumbled wall, the survivors came upon an empty truck that had bloodstains within it. It seemed that the person driving the truck lost all control but was still alive when the crash occurred. The bloodstains seemed to have came out of the truck and painted a path.
"Jesus," Francis said aloud. "Some people just shouldn't get driver's licenses. They suck."
"They probably died, Francis."
"Serves them right for being bad drivers. I hate bad drivers."
"Let's get into that grocery store and see what we can find," Zoey suggested, passing all of the men on her way, rifle choked up to her chin. She took slow, easy steps as she entered the store, the others directly behind her. The place was a wreck; the microwave was on the floor and the place must've been looted more times than any of them could count, but the room to their right made Zoey a little queasy. The patron of the truck seemed to have died in this room: there was a bloodstain path that led up to a woman who was slumped against a wall, a shotgun at her feet.
"Looks like she ain't gonna be needing this anymore," Francis said, picking up the shotgun and unloading the shells. When he saw the other survivors looking at him for his insensitivity, he shrugged his shoulder and said, "What? She ain't."
Through the grocery store and inside an empty storage container that held some common infected yielded nothing for the survivors. When they were done cleaning house, they exited and moved further up the street, stopping at the corner so they could all get into position.
They heard howling and shrieks fill the night, following by the clang of a chain link fence.
"Dammit! Here they come!" Louis yelled, taking aim at the infected on the other side of the fence and firing. As they were all concentrating their fire on the fence jumpers, they didn't notice the infected that flanked them and found the route in the warehouse. Before any could react, they were bulldozed to the floor, scrambling to get to their feet. It was here that Bill first heard what seemed to be a cry from Zoey as some infected were on top of her, stomping on her and clawing at her; she thought she was going to die.
Bill tried to reach for the M16 that was beyond his reach before relinquishing his M1911s and firing into Zoey's mob, watching as they all fell on by one. Louis and Francis seemed to have been holding their own, Louis managing to make it to his feet and firing into the same mob on top of Zoey and protecting Bill while he laid covering fire. Once the smoke cleared, Bill grabbed his assault rifle and made a dash sprint for Zoey, who was still on the floor breathing heavily, blood escaping her lips, nose, and forehead.
"Hey, you're gonna be all right, darlin'," Francis assured her, picking her up and looking around. "In there!" he yelled, motioning his head to a barricaded store front with its door missing. They all rushed Zoey within and Louis stood guard at the front, his M16 pointing at the street.
Bill and Francis set her down gently, Francis reaching over his back for his Med Kit. He took out disinfectant and bandages and began to swab at the cuts on Zoey's face carefully. Zoey winced. "I know it stings, darlin', but we need to get you cleaned up." Bill was surprised how nurturing Francis was towards Zoey; he wasn't sure what his intentions were, if he saw her as an attraction or a little sister, but nevertheless, he stepped up to the plate. "How's that feel?"
"Better," Zoey winced in pain. "We can't stay in here any longer. We get another wave like that and we're trapped like rats in here. I can move."
"Are you sure?" Bill asked. "We can stay in here 'til you're up to leaving."
"I'm up to leaving now," Zoey answered. "We don't need a Tank rushing in here, either. We need to go. Just give me a hand."
Bill extended his hand and lifted Zoey up. "All right, Francis take the rear and Zoey, stay in front of him. Louis and I will take point and we'll stop if we have to. Don't push yourself, all right? We need you healthy first, brave second. Remember that."
Zoey gave a curt nod and followed in suit in front of Francis and behind Louis. They trekked up the lonely and cold street, stopping at the corner to see what was before them. The street was littered in derailed cars and buses. Bill took a deep breath and peeked his head out further to see the infected roaming the streets.
"All right, here's the plan. We're going t—"
Before Bill could finish his sentence, a Smoker's tongue wrapped around his neck and pulled him towards the infected. Bill gasped for air as he felt his trachea collapse under the sheer strength of the Smoker.
Wasting no time, Francis and Louis took to firing close range while Zoey shuffled backwards and covered them with her Hunting Rifle. Through all the thick of the firefight, Zoey could not spot the Smoker that had Bill in its grasp, nor could she spot Bill himself.
"Bill!" Francis called out, blowing the face of an infected off with his shotgun. "Bill!" He coughed as he got further and further into the thick of the smoke, his eyes watering. He could hear Louis calling Bill's name out as well in-between firing, but it seemed as though none could see or hear him.
Finally, Francis found Bill lying face-down, the Smoker's tongue still around his neck. But to the left of him lay a dead Smoker with what looked to be a knife lodged in its neck. Francis flipped Bill over and lightly slapped his cheek until Bill's eyes shot open and he coughed right in Francis' face, causing Francis to close his eyes in annoyance as Bill shuffled to his side, trying to untangle himself.
When Zoey and Louis caught up, he could see the worried look in their eyes. In mere minutes, they got, for lack of a better termed, fucked up pretty bad. Bill shook off the incident like it was nothing, shooting a grin and a wink to Zoey before getting on his knees and removing the Bowie knife from the Smoker's neck. "Fella picked the wrong guy to mess with."
He wiped the blood on the Smoker's clothes before placing the knife back inside his shirt pocket. Zoey handed Bill his rifle back and he nodded and smiled at her once again in order to reassure her. After Louis' talk with him back in the safe house, Bill was sure that they held his "leadership" in high regards. He wasn't about to get her more scared than she was at that moment. He pressed on without saying another word.
The survivors followed the street to their right and into a building that housed a small hallway. Inside were two infected back to back, who were dealt with by a burst from Bill's Assault Rifle. The room directly left of that had more infected hanging around what appeared to be support beams that were currently being constructed on. Bill shook that thought away; they would never construct anything in this place again.
After dealing with those infected, the survivors found themselves back on the street. It was littered with infected, all of whom took notice to their area that was invaded. They all rushed the survivors and were hacked down in a hail of gunfire, until an earth shattering roar made their eardrums want to explode. From behind the infected ranks, a car flew through the air and landed on several of them. A blood-thirsty Tank rushed its way through, smashing any infected in its way.
"Tank!" Zoey yelled, aiming her rifle for the upper chest area of the Tank and firing, missing several shots before finally connected.
Louis and Bill both took knees and fired in the direction of the Tank, their bullets seemingly being brushed off as if nothing was harming it. Francis, on the other hand, cocked his shotgun and ran ahead of the others. He was mere feet away from the Tank and unloaded the rounds in his shotgun into the Tank's face. The beast roared and blindly ran in the same direction, swatting as he did. Francis dove out of the way and the combination of Bill, Louis, and Zoey's firepower brought the beast down to its knees, lifeless.
"Anything else you got?" Francis roared into the night. "That all you pussies have?"
"Francis, shut the hell up!" Louis interjected. "You tryin' to get us all killed or something?"
Francis shrugged Louis off and followed Bill and Zoey. As they walked down the bloodstained street, they noticed a MACK truck with its headlights blaring, lighting up the street. Past that was another interconnecting street that held buildings. Once the survivors got close enough, they noticed a piece of plywood was graphitized in the shape of a house with a plus sign in the middle and an arrow pointing up.
"Whoo! Safe house up ahead!" Francis cheered. "Let's get our sorry asses up there and let's get the fuck out of Riverside!"
"Couldn't have said it any better myself," Zoey agreed.
The path leading to the second floor balcony was blocked, probably as a precautionary measure, but the ones who made this make-shift path allowed for the survivors to climb on top of a van and up to the second floor. Once they were all there, Bill lead the way and froze when a Smoker stopped dead in its track directly outside of the door. Bill didn't hesitate and fired into the chest and lower body of the Smoker, the infected letting out an exasperating sigh as it exploded, causing all the other survivors to cough.
"Jesus, what a dumb ass," Francis laughed. "Did you see the look on that thing's face when it saw you on the other side of the railing. It was probably thinking, 'Oh, shit…' before being completely fucked up. Good shot, old man."
"It was only two feet in front of me, Francis. A three-year-old kid could make that shot."
"Just take the fuckin' compliment. Man, the three people I could possibly get stuck with and it has to be you lot. No sense of humor."
"Quit your yammering and check this out. Present from 'old Saint Bill." Bill had in his hands another 9mm handgun he found on the desk upon entering. He handed it off to Francis, who took it graciously and placed it in the back of his pants along with the other one. Bill hadn't noticed it earlier, but the infected that littered this area were more cops and military than they were civilians.
Guess they failed to hold this place up too… Bill thought grimly. When the hell are we going to catch a break? When are we going to get to the area that says, All survivors welcome here. We have plenty of food and guns and shelter for everybody.
"You ready, Bill?" Louis asked, nudging him with his rifle.
Bill nodded and proceeded forward, surprised that there was absolutely no resistance. It seemed to be an office once, and as they explored the rooms, they found that there was a metal ramp on the other side of the window in the conference room, along with weapons and ammunition on the table further below.
"Guess the military couldn't keep this place up, either," Zoey sighed. "Are there even any safe places left in the world?"
"We'll worry about that when we come to it. For now, though, let's restock on ammo and better-conditioned weapons if need be and get the hell out of here."
Following the ramp down, Bill and the others helped themselves to the ammo on the table, reloading their magazines and weapons. Bill also took the time to inspect their surroundings. The buildings on both sides were completely boarded up, and as he made his way further on, he noticed that there was a barricade set up lined with the bodies of civilians and military alike.
"Poor bastards barricaded themselves inside the city. All it musta took was one infected…" Bill sighed. He looked around his surroundings and saw that there was no way on the other side of the barricade. But to his left was a forklift. He noticed that it was holding up a section of the metal ramp. With luck, if it had any gas on it, he could power the forklift and lower the prongs so that he and the others could get to the other side. It seemed like a real farfetched plan, but he knew he had to risk it, even if it meant alerting the infected to their position.
"Guys, come take a look at this," Bill called out, pointing ot the ramp. We lower this ramp, we can get across. But the noise might alert some unwanted company. I wanted to know how you all felt about the plan."
Francis walked over to the forklift and turned it on, lowering the ramp. Once fully on the ground, the forklift kicked back and dropped the ramp, causing it to thud against the ground hard, setting off the car's alarm. Howling filled the air.
"Run like hell!" Zoey screamed, running as fast as she could, Louis and Francis directly behind her. She noticed that Bill was keeping pace with the others as well, but at a hobbled state; his leg had certainly seen better days.
The survivors dropped down to the street below and maneuvered past a bus and into a series of alleys. Frantic, not knowing what to do and the infected at their heels, Francis screamed, "Over here!" running further into a long alleyway and hanging a left towards a fire escape staircase. "Move! Move! Find a path!" he called out, taking a position at the top of the staircase, shotgun at the ready.
The others pressed on into the building, passing several dead military personnel along the way. Bill smashed the window leading outside and followed a makeshift bridge onto the next roof, running into that room as well. By then, the infected had caught up, and the thunder from Francis' shotgun can be heard throughout the air.
"Francis! Make your way to us! Come on!" Louis and Bill laid covering fire for Francis as he fired off his last round and followed their path, almost falling as the makeshift bridge collapses under his feet. They followed the exit outside of the building they were in and ran against the adjacent roofs to a big drop below. The infected had followed their path and some were climbing the chain link fence directly behind them.
"Safe house!" Zoey called out. The door was shut and Zoey prayed to God that it wasn't barred or locked, and when she pushed it, it gave and opened. She then shuffled inside and gasped for air, waiting for the others. Francis and Louis were easily inside just as quickly as she was, and Bill was hobbling over, the infected right on his tail. Once he made it inside, they tried to shut the door, only to be bombarded by the massive amount of infected.
"Shoot them! Shoot them!" Bill yelled, firing his assault rifle into the crowd, receiving a mist of blood that painted his face.
Francis shoved his shotgun into the crowd and fired off round after round after round and Louis continued to push the door closed. As it gave more and more, they noticed that there were too many bodies in the way. Zoey grabbed Louis' M16 and fired into the crowd as well, cursing and shouting as she did, and eventually, the infected lost their numbers and the door was able to close.
"Is anybody hurt?" Bill asked, to which he received three shaking heads. He then collapses onto the floor and placed his back against the safe house door, listening to the pounding from the infected on the other side. "I thought we were done for there. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph."
"We're not sure if that door can hold out for much longer," Louis said. "I say we stock up and get the hell out as soon as we can. We don't want to be here when and if that door comes crashing down; there's too many of them."
"Lou's right," Francis agreed. "Everyone grab a ration and some ammo and let's get the hell out of here. Old man, Zoey, you guys good to go?"
Zoey nodded, as did Bill, who got back up and caught his breath. He moved forward to the ration crates and pulled two rations for himself, one that he placed in his Med Kit pouch and another that he immediately ate. The K rations were actually better than the can of beans he had eaten in the church, and he knew that he needed all the food he could get to keep his strength up. He took especial notice to the graffiti that was written on the walls. A person who couldn't obviously spell posted, "We have sown the seeds of sin this is our punishmint."
Another side of the walls posted news of people who had died and the location of Evac Echo, to which there was some confusion amongst the posters. On the other far side of the wall was a message saying, "The Army left us to die."
"Old man, let's get going," Francis said, opening the safe house door and blasting the first infected the saw. When they left, they noticed that they were in a parking garage that had a van in it. Francis shook his head and said, "I hate vans," before kicking the tire with his foot.
Louis took the to go back and shut the safe house door in case the infected burst through, giving them more time to escape their radar. Once he rejoined the others, they opened the door at the far end of the garage and found themselves back onto the street. Immediately outside, they noticed a row of houses and a military Humvee and dead military personnel on the ground.
"Damn. These guys didn't know what they were getting into," Louis said lowly, breathing heavily. "There's bound to be one of these houses we can go through. The military probably set something up before they bailed."
"You mean got killed?" Francis said, pressing on. "I see flood lights coming from this house. I say we go in there and see what we can find." Following his advice, the survivors pressed on inside the house that yielded more ammunition and bodies of dead military personnel. "Still think these guys just bailed, Lou?"
"Guess not," Louis answered dryly. "Doesn't mean we need to end up like 'em, though."
They found the back door of the house that led them to a wooden area with various infected roaming the open field. Zoey and Bill both took potshots at the infected, cutting down as many of them as they could. The ones that got too close for comfort were dealt with by Louis and Francis.
Once the last infected was dealt with, Francis wiped his mouth and spat, "I hate small towns."
"Yeah, we know, Francis. You hate a lot of things."
"Damn straight I do. And I'll keep on sayin' 'em when we get to them. It's best if you know what I hate so you won't get me something I don't like."
Heading into the open field, the survivors came up to a sign that read, 'Riverside Park: Picnic Grounds and Swimming Area.'
"Looks like this is the place," Bill said. "Let's follow this trail up to the river."
They followed the trail through to a house that had flood lights and barricades. They felt uneasy passing through the quiet woods as they did, all of them looking around, paranoid that something was going to jump out and get them. But as they made their way closer and closer to the house, there was little resistance, and the infected that were in their way were cut down. Finally, as they reached the door, they heard the crackling of a radio.
"Come in, refugees! This is John Slater. If you can here this, we will ferry anyone with weapons and ammo. Please respond. Is anyone there? Anyone with some firepower on this frequency, please pick up."
"How ya doin'?" Bill said into the receiver.
"Hello? Hello? Hello!" came John's excited voice. "We're heading to the military outpost upriver. We can come get you in ten minutes. Arm yourselves for the trip and let me know when to head out."
"Come and get us, John. We're good to go," Bill said with a smile on his face. "Just don't take any longer getting here; these bastards aren't letting up."
"Alright, we're on our way. Make sure you clear the area. I don't want my first act of kindness to be my last."
"It's pretty clear now, John. Make your way over to us ASAP. We'll see you in ten. Out."
"Roger that. Out."
"Rescue boat's on its way here," Bill said. "We just gotta hold out for ten minutes. Everybody, take positions in the house. Louis, you and I will guard downstairs, Francis, get the top of the staircase in case any make their way out and Zoey, cover upstairs."
They all nodded and shuffled into position. Not long after, there was a howling that filled the night. It seemed as though the infected that they were worried about had crashed through the safe house doors and were making their way to them. They all tensed and braced themselves for the inevitable impact.
The inside of the house exploded as infected shuffled inside, pushing their way in so they could grab a meal. Bill held them back with bursts from his assault rifle, blood spraying all over his face, while Louis was holding his own on the other side of the house. They could hear John Slater's voice saying, "We'll be there in five minutes!" as they continued to fend off their attackers. Francis and Zoey had their hands full on the top level, both of them muttering and cursing as the infected continued to pile into the house.
"Jesus, is there no fucking end to these guys?" Bill heard Francis call out.
"Just shut up and keep shooting!" Bill called back, reloading his rifle. A piece of rubble smashed the outside of the house and scattering along the balcony. From as far as he could see, Bill noticed a Tank making its way towards the house. "We got a Tank coming!" he shouted to Francis and Zoey upstairs. "Brace yourselves!"
As the infected ranks were thinning out, the Tank was coming closer and closer towards the house. Francis and Zoey ran downstairs to help clean out as much as they could before the behemoth showed its face, and when it did, it was greeted with a flurry of bullets.
"We're fucked! We're fucked! We're fucked!" Louis cried, his voice inaudible as round after round of his M16 penetrated the Tank's thick skin. The beast roared as it tried to push its way into the house. But as it tried to do that, more and more infected were rushing the back of the house, greeted by Francis' shotgun.
"We need to get the hell out of this house!" Francis yelled.
"We'll be there in two minutes!" John's voice called out.
"Jesus, move your ass!" Francis shouted to John, though he couldn't hear him. He tapped Zoey on her collar and motioned for her to move outside. He did the same to Bill and Louis just as the Tank found its way in. Francis could hear honking, and as he looked out to the lake, the noticed a floodlight peering through the fog.
"The boat's here! Everybody make your way to the dock!"
"RUN!" Louis screamed in terror.
The Tank was unrelenting even as the ferry pulled up to the dock. John Slater jumped off the ferry and began to pull a rope from the boat in an attempt to steady her as the survivors made their way towards him. Zoey was the first to board the ferry, encouraging Francis, who was right behind her, onto the ferry and began to cover John, shooting an infected that managed to flank their side. Louis and Bill were still contending with the Tank, both wielding the M16 assault rifle, each aimed at the large mass that was its midsection. By now it had moved closer toward the docks along with the survivors.
"I can't hold her for long, folks!" John screamed above the gunfire. "We need to go! Now!"
Bill emptied a clip from his assault rifle and slammed another home. He saw that Louis was waving his arm forward in an indication that he should make a run for the ferry, and that was just what he did. He sprinted as fast as his injured leg would allow him to sprint and leapt from the dock onto the deck of the ferry, John still ashore pulling onto the rope with all his might.
"Lou! Get your ass on board!" Francis shouted, watching as the junior analyst left a blinded Tank and made a hurried sprint for the dock. As soon as Louis reached the dock, John let go of the rope and hopped aboard, turning around to offer Louis a helping hand as he narrowly made it to the edge of the ferry. His legs flailed and pounded into the ferry's side as he was pulled up and onto the deck, sighing a deep sigh of relief, the sweat trickling down his face and neck.
"Amanda! Get this thing movin'!" John shouted to his wife, who pulled away from the dock quickly. The large boat shifted left and right to adjust to the quick turn, and that was when John got a real good look at the first Tank he had ever seen; muscles upon muscles, mass upon mass, and to top it off, an angry snarl that made any man's man want to piss themselves. "Oh, shit! Look out!"
The Tank dug its hands into the hard earth and pulled out what seemed to be a small boulder. It hefted it over his shoulder and cocked its large arm back and threw it with all of its might, narrowly missing the ferry. The hulking giant saw the ferry off and roared loudly into the night, in what seemed to be a cursed mock towards the eluding survivors.
"Oh, God," Louis panted, laughing lightly. "Did I just become a man?"
"We'll see after we check your pants for any wet spots," Francis answered.
"Thanks for the pickup, John," Bill wheezed. "We thought we were gonna end up being mashed by that thing there. You came right on time."
"Don't mention it," John sighed, still obviously exhausted from holding onto that rope for dear life. He looked to be middle age, with salt and pepper hair that masked the wrinkles that made up his brow. His eyes were so dark that they were almost camouflaged by the night. He was also a very tall man, taller than Bill thought he sounded, and was dressed in what seemed to be military fatigues. "How'd you find out about the ferry?"
"From the pilot who picked us up from Mercy Hospital."
John froze for a moment and smiled. "Nathan Hill, that son of a bitch. Why isn't he here with you?"
"Nathan was his name, huh?" Bill questioned. "When we got picked up from Mercy Hospital, Nathan was already bitten from an infected girl he had rescued from the streets. He didn't know she was infected until she turned in his chopper and bit him on the shoulder. He managed to boot her out and made his way to us. When we boarded and took off, he was in bad shape. He was telling us of the unsuccessful drop he attempted before coming to rescue us and told us about you two, said that you had a ferry docked on the other side of the river that comes to pick up survivors in case something happens. It wasn't much longer 'til the poor guy…you know…he changed."
John was silent for a few seconds, the only sound the sloshing of the waves as they hit the side of the ferry. "He was a good man," he finally said. "Always had a smile on, always out to protect people. You know, he volunteered to go to Mercy to pick up those civilians, even though he didn't have to. The military had a post up there and Nathan volunteered to drop more soldiers off and transport survivors because he was one of the only ones who knew how to pilot a helicopter. He lost his wife and daughter to the infection days before."
Bill felt the choked up feeling coming up in his throat again. He had predicted that Nathan was a father, and, like him, had lost his family. Bill didn't know the fate of his son, but for all he knew he was dead, and thinking he was out there somewhere when the reality was he was just as dead as everyone else didn't make anything any easier for him. It made him want to weep.
"It's a shame a man like that had to lose his life and family," Bill said, shaking his head. "It's because of him that we're here now. He may have passed away along the path, but he showed us where to go, or at least told us. So we're his living legacy in that we're the last survivors he transported safely."
The survivors introduced themselves to Amanda Slater as she let the ferry drift on its own. She came out with something to eat for them. It wasn't much, some cheese and crackers with two bottles of water to share, but to them it was a three-course meal. Bill thought that the cheese was better than all the steaks he had in his life combined, and he was upset to find that he nearly wolfed them all down before he even had a chance to savor the flavor.
"So where are we headed?" Louis asked. "How far is the survivor colony Nathan told us about?"
John pointed further out to sea. "Well, we were docked much closer than where we have to go. You see that piece of land over there? That's Newburg. Once we clear Newburg, it's smooth sailing to the survivor colony in Allegheny. The military has everything there, from food to APCs and RPGs. We're completely untouchable there."
"Are there more than one military station in Allegheny?" Bill asked.
John nodded. "A few. But we haven't heard from those stations in days. It's probable that they were overrun and killed, but we pray day in and day out that they just had malfunctions with their radios and they are holding out just fine. But with the way things are now, it's silly to hope for the good when there's none to be found."
As they were nearing the shore of Newburg, a large, unfocused blur was on the land.
"What is that, John?" Amanda asked as she squinted her eyes to get a better look.
What she didn't realize was the Tank that had a large boulder at the ready. He seemed to rip the boulder clean from a chunk of the mountainside, and as all the survivors tensed, the Tank hefted the large boulder over his shoulder and threw it with all his might.
"Oh, please, God," Louis prayed. "Please let it miss. Please let it miss."
The boulder found its home directly in the center of the boat. It immediately capsized and the survivors, along with the Slaters, were thrown overboard. Saltwater filled Bill's lungs as he tried to assess where the others were and how close land was as well. He swam in the first direction he noticed land and saw that there were others who were swimming alongside him as well.
On land were Zoey, Francis, Louis, Bill, and John. John looked around frantically for his wife, watching the waters. "Oh, Jesus! Amanda! Amanda! Oh, God, where are you?"
They heard loud, thunderous footsteps making their way towards them. Bill tensed and aimed his assault rifle forward. He wasn't even sure if it would fire after being in the water, but reflex along made him do it. Within seconds, they noticed that the Tank was holding Amanda Slater by her slender neck.
The bottom half of her was missing.
"Run!" Bill yelled, grabbing John's collar, to which he shrugged him off.
"Amanda!" he cried out, falling to his knees. The survivors all fired upon the Tank, and to their surprise, their weapons were working. The Tank threw Amanda's corpse like a softball. It ignored the survivors, instead focusing entirely on John Slater, who looked up slowly in terror before standing up and running into the wooded area beyond, the hulking giant following suit. "Nonononono!" the survivors heard him cry out, and when Bill went to follow them into the woods, Francis grabbed him by the collar and motioned for him to move in the other direction.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Bill yelled. "The man needs our help!"
"He's dead, old man! Might as well buy us more time to get the hell out of here!"
"You can't mean that!"
They heard a loud-pitched screamed that made the night dead silent. The survivors, all wide-eyed, ran in the direction of the closest building they could find. It was a few minutes run from where they were, but when they got inside, they quickly barricaded the door with a sofa and table that was inside, and all collapses onto the floor, Louis grabbing his head and Zoey crying slightly. Francis rung out the water from his leather vest and walked upstairs. It seemed as though they were in a greenhouse.
Bill followed him upstairs, as did Zoey and Louis, and he grabbed him by his vest angrily and punched him in the face as hard as he could, knocking him down. "You son of a bitch!" Bill shouted. "That man risked his life to save ours and you fucking left him for dead?"
"It was him or us! You told him to run with us and he didn't. He ran the other way! The poor bastard got what he deserved for acting stupidly!"
"You animal, you--!" Bill advanced on Francis but was stopped by Louis, who stood in front of him and held him with all his might.
"Bill, calm yourself. We need to be quiet so that thing doesn't find us."
"Yeah, what he said," Francis agreed, standing up. "And who are you calling an animal? I took matters into my own hands, just like you did with that kid in the church. Was that necessary? Maybe you and I aren't so different after all, old man. Maybe that's why we've survived for as long as we have. Because we do what we gotta do to live."
"That doesn't make anything right!" Bill yelled in a whisper.
"Right?" Francis laughed. "What the hell does that word even mean anymore? Look around you; the world ain't "right," hasn't been in a long time. 'Bout time you start realizing that, old man, before—"
Francis' words were cut off by a loud noise that hovered above them. As they all looked to the roof of the greenhouse, they noticed a plane flying in low altitude hovering above them. They all looked to one another, wondering if what they had just seen was real or a mirage.
- - -
We all couldn't believe the site before us. It was the first sign of civilization since this entire mess started. We all wondered if the pilot knew of a safe haven for survivors or if he was heading towards the airport thinking that was the haven. Nevertheless, I wondered more if he knew he was flying directly into Dead Air.
- Sergeant William Overbeck, United States Army (Ret.)
- - -
A/N: I'm sorry it took so long for me to write this chapter, guys; I was very busy with stuff. I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Sorry if it seemed to drag on at certain parts; I need to get my rhythm back with this story. Until next time, take it easy, faithful readers.