Here's Dexter 2. I'm sorry for the late update. This is very hard to do. I recently got a review from someone named Kitanna, asking if I would mind them turning my fanfic into a movie. Maybe post it on Youtube, and if it's good enough, submit it to a film festival, so that kinda inspired me. If you're reading this Kitanna, please leave me your email, as I would love if you used my story in a movie.
Dexter
Dexter looked around him, watching as men and women in military garbs hustled around the area. Several fences had been put around the perimeter, to help keep out intruders, or worse, the undead. Guards armed with high powered rifles kept guard.
It had been three days since his first encounter with the dead, three days since the incident with the hospital. The military base they were staying in right now wasn't a real base; it was actually just a large food store, converted into a makeshift base.
Dexter sat on a chair outside the tent he had been assigned to. Nineteen others had been assigned to the same tent, varying between men, women, and children. Families were kept together, at least the ones that weren't broken up by the dead.
The man Dexter came in with, Corporal Lewis, was going around handing out food to the refugees. Refugees. Dexter couldn't believe that he, as well as everybody else here, was now a refugee.
He was still in his new police uniform, and had been tasked with keeping order among the people. It was a lot easier than he thought it would be. The people didn't cause any ruckus, as they were too heart broken, scared, or both to do so. Only one person caused trouble, and he stopped when he saw Dexter, imposed by his large size and toned muscles. In his business, Dexter had to keep his physique.
"Officer Morgan." Dexter looked up to find Corporal Lewis. He held a hot dog in a bun in each hand. "Here; you should eat something."
Dexter took the food with a small smile. "Thanks," he said. "Oh, and call me Dexter."
Corporal Lewis pulled a nearby chair next to Dexter, and sat down with him. "Alright. Then you call me Lewis."
"Sure."
The two men sat in silence, eating their hot dogs. Dexter enjoyed having the meat in his mouth; he hadn't eaten anything in three days. It wasn't that they didn't give him anything; he just couldn't eat.
Dexter was thankful to Lewis for bringing him along. He probably would have been killed by the monsters by now if it hadn't been for him.
"So," Lewis said, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "how long have you been on the force?"
"What?" Dexter asked.
"The force; how long you been on it?"
"Oh, not long," Dexter responded awkwardly. "To be honest, I-"
Dexter was cut off by someone in military garbs, with two younger soldiers behind him, one a large, buff man, the other a woman. The man was old, maybe sixties or seventies, but still looked imposing. "Corporal!" he yelled. "What are you doing sitting on your ass?! We have dead at the front fences, west side, I want you to go and clear them up with Simmons and Scuitto. There's not too many, but be careful, and remember to keep it silent!"
The Corporal stood up immediately. "Yes sir!" He looked at the two young soldiers. "Follow me."
Dexter watched as Lewis hurried to the nearby fence, and leaving to deal with the dead. "Officer Morgan!"
Dexter looked up at the large, gray haired man. He could see that the man was proud of his accomplishments, from the numerous medals and awards he had on his breast. "Sir?"
"We have a chopper in bound with some survivors," he told him. "I want you to help get them situated into the camp. Now go!"
"Yes sir!" Dexter stood up as quick as he could. This guy scared him. He was always so loud and intimidating. Always so intense.
Dexter ran to the food store, telling the soldiers that guarded it his orders. They already knew he was helping around camp, so they didn't ask for I.D. or anything. He made it to the roof, looking for the others he was supposed to help.
"Morgan!" a voice called out. Dexter looked over and saw Doctor Maine. "Over here!" He hurried over to her, finding her standing with two other doctors, an old Indian man and a tall, skinny man with a cane, a police officer, heavy-set, black, and a soldier, who seemed to only be in his early twenties.
"Why are you up here?" Dexter asked.
"I could ask you the same thing," she replied. She looked up at the sky, looking for the chopper. "The Lieutenant said there are wounded in the chopper, and that I should check on them before they're let into the main camp."
"In case they're infected?"
"Yeah." Carolyn pointed towards the sky. "Here they come."
Dexter waited next to the good doctor, hearing the helicopter as it neared them. Dexter squinted, covering his eyes as the chopper landed. The helicopter blades slowed to a stop, and Dexter looked at the chopper. It was filled to the brim with people, soldiers hanging onto the sides, unable to fit in the chopper. The soldiers hopped off the chopper one by one, allowing the people deeper to get out.
"Alright," a soldier said, "civilians, you will disembark the chopper, in an orderly fashion. You will wait behind that red line, where a doctor will treat your wounds if you have any."
"Hello everybody. My name is Doctor Carolyn Maine," Carolyn told them as the civilians jumped off. "Please tell me if you have been hurt in any way."
"You do not have to worry," the soldier told them. "You are all safe here. Do not cause a fuss, or you will disciplined."
Dexter watched as the people came to them, one by one, each with their own problems. Some lost family, friends, some were hurt, others were strangely good. Carolyn inspected each person as they came up to her, checking for any bites or scratches along with other wounds. If the person had a bite mark on them, they would be quarantined, and eventually killed.
"Alright, you can go, sweetie," Carolyn told a crying little girl, no more than six years old. Gauze and wrappings covered her right eye. Dexter wondered what had happened to her. "Sergeant Stucky, could you please take her to the medical tent?"
The soldier, Stucky, an older man, picked her up. "Where's my Mommy?" the girl asked. "I want my Mommy!"
Stucky just walked away with her, ignoring the girls pleading, avoiding her eyes. He seemed ashamed.
"Dexter?" Dexter looked back to the line, wondering who it was that wanted his attention. He was shocked when saw him. It was Senator Hugh Lincoln. "What are you doing here?"
"Huey?" Dexter asked. He looked at the handsome politician, happiness filling his body. He hadn't heard from the Senator in over two months, ever since their falling out, and here he was now, alive and well. "I can't believe you're alive!"
Dexter walked up and hugged the Senator as tightly as he could. He could still smell his expensive cologne on him. He let him go and looked at him. His hair was brown and greasy, probably from not showering in some days. His smile was still pearly white, and perfect, his eyes green as emeralds.
"Dad, who is this guy?" Dexter looked down to see the Senator's eleven year old son, Johnny. He looked like his father, only smaller and with long, black hair even greasier than his father's.
"This is Dexter," the Senator told him. "He's a ... good friend of mine."
"Are you a cop?" Johnny asked.
"Uh, yeah," Dexter told him. "I'm helping to keep the peace here."
"Cool." Johnny pointed to Dexter's gun. "Have you shot any of the monsters?"
Dexter knelt down to his eye level. "No, I haven't. I did get one, but I didn't use my gun."
"Wow, you must know karate or something!" the young boy said.
Dexter laughed at that. Huey had told him his son had a vivid imagination.
"Morgan." Dexter looked behind him. Doctor Maine looked annoyed. We have more people that need help. Catch up with them later."
Dexter apologized to her, and looked to the senator and his son. "I'll find you later, alright?"
"Yeah, of course." Huey looked at him again, this time noticing his uniform. "You always did look good in that."
Huey and Johnny were escorted away by the police officer, while Dexter remained with Carolyn on the roof.
After all the people on the helicopter were cleared, Dexter returned to the tent he was assigned. When he got there, he saw Huey and Johnny, talking with Lewis and the police officer from the rooftop.
"-a good thing the military showed up, otherwise we'd be dead." Huey must have been explaining how he ended up on the chopper.
"Huey!" Dexter walked up to him.
"Hey, Dexter." The two hugged again. "I didn't expect to see you here. Not that I'm complaining."
"You two know each other?" the police officer asked. Dexter couldn't recall his name. Winslow, maybe.
"We're old friends," Huey told him.
"Don't think we've formally met yet," the cop said. "Name's Eddie Winslow." He extended his hand.
"Dexter Morgan," Dexter replied, taking the cops hand. He let go after a good shake.
"Good to see another cop in this place. Been wanting to talk to you for a while, but it seemed like you dealing with some rough stuff."
"Yeah. But I'm over it now," Dexter told him. "At least I hope I am."
"Well, I should go. I'm in another tent, and it's getting late." He checked his watch, a beautiful gold and blue one. "It's nearing seven 'o' clock. Curfew's gonna start soon. Nice talking with you."
Dexter watched the large cop walk out the tent, then turned his attention to Huey. "What about you?" he asked. "Which tent were you assigned?"
"Right here," he responded, widening his arms.
Johnny spoke up. "Dad asked them for a spot in this tent. Said he'd call it a personal favor."
"That's great!" Dexter said. "You can bunk with me."
"It's curfew time!" Dexter turned around to see the large military man from earlier. The man in charge. "Get to sleep everyone!"
"We should do as he says," Dexter said. "He's very strict."
With a small nod from Huey, Dexter walked him and Johnny over to his cot. The two lied down, and Dexter followed suit.
Dexter jerked awake to the sound an explosion. He stood up and got off his cot. Most of the people in the tent had woken up as well, including Huey and Johnny. "Dad, what was that!?" Johnny cried. Now he could hear gunfire. A lot of it.
"I don't know, son." He grabbed his son's head and began rubbing it, pulling him to his chest to comfort him. "I'm sure it's fine. The military will protect us."
Dexter looked around. Everyone stayed in their cots, too afraid to leave the tent, himself included. One of the people, an older man, maybe mid-fifties, turned around to look at Dexter. "Go look outside!" he told him.
"Why me?!" Dexter asked.
"It's your job! Protect and Serve!" the old replied.
Dexter looked down at himself. He was still in his uniform, of course they would look to him for help. Dexter took a deep breath, and stood up. "Everyone stay quiet," Dexter said, trying to be loud enough to hear, but low enough to avoid anything from outside hearing him.
"Dexter!" he turned around. It was Huey. "Please come back safe."
"I will." Dexter walked off without another word, afraid he had lied to him.
Dexter exited the tent and looked around. It was night, very dark, the moon shining overhead in a crescent shape. Some others had been brave enough to leave their tents, though they still shook with fear. Dexter listened to the gunfire, and followed the sound. He followed the sounds, realizing they were coming from the fences. He turned a corner, and paled at the sight, frozen in place.
Soldiers were firing their weapons at the undead, who had somehow broken through the fence. A large section of the fence was knocked over, where Dexter saw the undead eating a dead soldier, the one called Scuito. Her body was destroyed, three of her limbs missing, her legs and her right arm, her face burned and shredded.
Several of the undead lumbered towards Dexter. He couldn't move, fear overtaking him. One of the undead fell to the ground, dead, blood spattering onto the ones behind it. The rest soon followed suit.
Dexter felt someone's hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see Lewis, a large machine gun in his hands. He seemed to be yelling at him, but everything sounded dull, and he looked as if he was speaking in slow motion.
All of a sudden, everything was normal. "DEXTER! WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!"
"What happened?" he asked, his voice cracking a bit. "How did this happen?"
"I'll tell you later, now move!" Lewis pulled him away from the battle. He lead him to the flag pole in front of one of the tents, a lever built into it's side. The military had set up a siren on the flag pole, in case the area was compromised. He pulled on the lever, turning the siren on.
"Where are we evacuating?!" Dexter asked loudly, trying to talk over the blaring siren.
"We're not!" Lewis told him, also yellin . "There's no evac! No one's coming for us!"
"You mean they're leaving us here?!"
"There's no one coming because there's no one left!" Lewis told him. Dexter tried to digest what Lewis had just told him. People ran out of their tents, to check on the situation. "THE DEAD HAVE BROKEN THROUGH! EVERYONE RUN! IT'S NO LONGER SAFE HERE!"
Dexter watched as everybody began panicking. Some people stood in place, not able to move. Others ran back into their tents, while most ran away. Dexter then thought of Huey and Johnny. They were still back in the tent!
"We have to find Huey!" Dexter told Lewis.
"Go!" Lewis said. "I gotta get back to the dead! Hold them off the civilians!" He reached to his side, unholstering his sidearm, a handgun, and handed it to Dexter, as well as key. "Take my jeep and get out of here!"
Before Dexter could say a word, Lewis ran off, heading back to the breached fence. He fired his gun at the undead monsters, killing the ones closest to the people. He disappeared from sight, and Dexter turned around, hoping to find Huey alive.
He ran to his tent, which was almost completely empty. Except for Huey and Johnny. "Huey!" Dexter yelled. He ran over to them. "We have to go! The fence is down, and those things are all over the place!"
"What are we gonna do?" Huey asked.
"We're getting the hell out of here!" Dexter told him.
"But what about the soldiers?" Johnny asked.
"They're trying to hold them off," Dexter told him. "But they can't do it forever. Now let's go!"
Dexter led the two out of the tent, and headed for the vehicles. He could see people trying to force themselves into the overpacked store as he passed them, hoping the cement walls would protect them from the hoards of undead.
As they ran passed the tents, Dexter slowed when he saw Carolyn, the doctor he had come here with. She was on the ground, one of the undead on top of her, trying to bite her. Dexter ran over to her and grabbed the undead monster, using all of his strength to pull it off the young doctor. It surprised him how strong these things were.
Carolyn backed away, and stood up, crying in fear. The monster struggled in Dexter's grip, when a bang went off and the monster wen limp, a hole in it's head. Dexter let go of the creature, and looked to the man who shot it. It was Eddie Winslow, the cop from last night. His arms and shoulders were bleeding.
"You're bit," Carolyn said.
"Yeah, I know." Eddie aimed his gun in another direction, firing off a few more shots. "I know what happens. I'm dead. Just go and get the hell out of here."
"I'm sorry," Dexter told him.
"GO!"
Dexter ran off, leading Huey, Johnny, and Carolyn to the vehicles. When they arrived, they saw the dead and the soldiers fighting. Some of the soldiers left in the vehicles, while others tried to fight the monsters.
Dexter saw Lewis' jeep, surrounded by several undead, with one soldier trying to keep them out of the vehicle. It was the soldier who carried the little girl with one eye, Stucky. Dexter ran over to help, but was too late; one of the undead had reached from behind him sunk it's into his neck, blood spurting from the wound. Dexter felt sick to his stomach when he realized it was the little girl who bit him.
Dexter ran to the monsters, putting his gun to back of the first one's head and firing a shot. He'd never fired a gun before, and didn't expect it to kick back so hard. The other monsters lunged toward him, but were stopped by Huey and Carolyn, who tripped the monsters with their own clumsy feet, and stomping on the heads.
Dexter looked at the soldier, Stucky. He was still alive, and had forced the girl off of him, throwing her to the ground. He stomped on her face, crushing the once innocent girls head beneath his boot. A moment later, he went to the jeep, and pulled out a rifle. He cocked it, put the barrel under his chin, and fired, killing himself.
With no time to mourn the young soldier, Dexter hopped in the jeep, putting the key in the ignition and starting it up. The others hopped into the jeep, along with a few other soldiers, who saw Dexter had gotten the jeep started.
Dexter put his foot on the gas, driving away from the fallen camp. As he got further away from the camp, he saw the horde of undead in front of him. There were hundreds, of walking corpses, all barreling towards them.
"Drive through them!" one of the soldiers told him. "There's no other way to go!"
Listening to the soldier, Dexter forced his foot into the gas as hard as he could, getting ready to plow through the horde, praying no one would die doing so.
"Everyone hold on tight!" he yelled.
"Keep your head down, Johnny!" Dexter heard Huey tell his son.
Dexter could feel every body he hit, and even felt cold, dead hands on his forearm as he drove, the dead trying to grab at him. He could hear the soliders firing their weapons, trying to prevent the dead from pulling them out, as well as screams as some people were most likely pulled from the jeep, to be devoured by the dead.
Eventually they made it through the horde, though Dexter didn't know how. He continued driving, avoiding the dead as much as possible. He didn't see any signs of life, no soldiers, no refugees, no one. Only the dead.
"There's a gas station up ahead," one of the soldiers told him. "There might still be some fuel."
"Alright, I'll stop."
Dexter slowed the jeep to a stop, and turned off the ignition. The soldiers all hopped out, and entered the gas station to look for supplies.
"You okay, Huey?" Dexter asked. He didn't get an answer, so he decided to look back at him. "Huey, are you oka-?"
He stopped mid-sentence. Huey wasn't there. Neither was Carolyn. Only Johnny, who sat on the seat in the fetal position, sobbing uncontrollably. "The monsters got my Dad," he told Dexter. "And the lady, too. I heard them screaming."
Dexter looked at the young boy, not fully processing what he had just heard. Those screams he heard, they weren't those of the soldiers. They were of Carolyn. And Huey.
And so ends Dexter 2. Once again, Kitanna, if you're reading this, please give me your contact information. I would love to help in any way I can.