Midnight Riders Finale

Florida, a year before the Green Flu Outbreak

"Carter, you ready for this?"

Carter looked up to see his business colleague, Phil Marchbanks, grin at him from the door to his office.

"I was born to do this," Carter boasted, picking up the stack of folders that carried the financial reports they would need for the presentation. "I just hope they're ready to be flattened."

Carter and Phil were getting ready for a meeting that would decide the fate of the bank they were both working for; the two were college chums who eventually entered the same bank, albeit at different times. As a result, Carter ended up becoming Phil's superior despite them having graduated at the same time.

It was awkward at times, and Carter never let Phil forget it.

Carter adjusted his tie and cleared his throat, while Phil opened the door to the meeting room. The representatives of the company who were threatening to sue the bank for supposedly "misplacing" the funds that they had deposited were all there, smug smiles on their faces and cups of steaming coffee in front of them.

"Now we can start."

Carter and Phil's boss, Mr. Owens, was standing at one corner of the meeting room. The representatives all opened the folders in front of them while Carter and Phil set up. Carter knew it would take them hours to deal with the problem, and he was right.

By the time the meeting was done, the representatives' egos were severely bruised and Mr. Owens had the satisfaction of calling the bank's lawyer to tell him to stay on the case.

"I loved the way you produced their financial statements, Carter," Mr. Owens praised, while Phil locked up the meeting room. "The looks on their faces was priceless. Good job."

Carter smirked. "All in a day's work."

"Well you and Phil take the rest of the day off. You've earned it."

'Yeah, considering it's seven in the evening,' Carter thought, biting back a sneer. Mr. Owens clapped him on the back again before disappearing into his office.

"Drink?" Phil asked, trying not to look too sullen. He'd expected to get a fair share of the glory, but as always, Carter soaked it all up like a greedy sponge.

"I'll pass. Got someone waiting for me."

"Oh. Is this the exotic dancer we saw last week?"

"Nope. Someone new." Carter pushed the door open to his office and retrieved his jacket. "See you on Monday, killer."

Phil waved him away and Carter grinned. How he liked to see Phil squirm. He knew he shouldn't, but Phil wasn't exactly a saint towards him when they were in college. Carter was just returning the favor.

Carter rode the elevator down to the parking lot, where he got into his car. He sent a quick message to his date – who was the exotic dancer Phil was referring to – to tell her that he was on his way.

Traffic was pretty light and he reached the restaurant in a few minutes.

"Carter, you're late."

Anja was a Russian dancer whom he had bumped into in a bar last week. The two had hit it off, much to the chagrin of Phil, who had seen her first. Carter didn't waste any time: by the end of the week, he had slept with Anja numerous times.

But whenever she started steering the conversation towards moving in together, Carter changed the subject.

He wasn't ready for commitment. His career was booming and he wanted to enjoy a few flings before he looked for the woman he planned on spending the rest of his life with.

No matter how much he liked Anja, he didn't see himself being tied to her for the rest of his life.

"I sent you a message," Carter told her, kissing her on the cheek before sitting down. "I hope you didn't order anything yet."

"No, I was waiting for you," Anja said. "I know you want us to eat at the same time."

"Which is the whole purpose of eating out," Carter replied swiftly. "Anja, I need to talk to you."

"Is this about me moving in with you?"

Carter winced at the eagerness in her voice, but he steeled himself for what he had to say. He'd better nip it in the bud before things got serious.

"No, it's the opposite, actually. Anja, I've loved spending time with you."

"So do I," Anja agreed with a smile. "The past week has been the best of my life."

"But I think we need to start seeing other people," Carter finished, as if she hadn't spoken.

Anja stilled. She didn't say anything for a few minutes, during which Carter spotted an attractive brunette over by the bar. He made a quick mental note of her before turning back to Anja.

"Are you…are you breaking up with me?" she hissed, leaning forward. "Here?"

"Would you prefer it if I do it over the phone?"

Anja's eyes narrowed. Before Carter could do or say anything, she stood and slapped him.

The patrons sitting at the nearby tables stopped and looked at the drama unfold. Anja then launched into a shrieking tidal wave of feminine emotion, most of which was in Russian. By the time she was done, the entire restaurant was watching silently.

"And I hope you choke on your own tongue!" Anja cried, before storming out of the restaurant. As soon as the door swung shut behind her, the restaurant came alive once more, but this time with furious whispers.

Carter tried not to look too affected and he ordered his dinner shortly after. While he waited for his food, he noticed that the brunette was looking at him. Carter smiled at her, which she returned reluctantly.

After a few seconds of constant eye-to-eye contact, she hopped off the bar stool she was sitting on and made her way to his table. "Is this seat taken?"

"I'm sure you and the rest of the people here know that it isn't. Not anymore."

"What did you do to her?"

"I just told her to stop stalking me and bother someone else," Carter lied. "She didn't take the news well."

"Apparently not. I hope she hasn't given other women a bad name."

"She hasn't. Are you thinking of rectifying that?"

That made her smile. "Maybe."

"Well, we should start by telling our names." Carter told her his, and he learned that she was Taylor Saunders.

Carter's dinner came, and he offered to pay for hers. She refused, saying that she had already eaten. They spent the rest of Carter's meal talking, which ended with him inviting her outside for a smoke.

"Now this is different," Taylor commented as they stood on the sidewalk. Carter exhaled, feeling the soothing sensation of the smoke unfurl from his lips. "Usually guys offer to take me to their apartment."

"I'm not like most guys," Carter said.

"Thank god for that," Taylor whispered. "I was afraid you were the guy who was only interested in flings."

'Baby, you don't know shit,' Carter thought.

Survivors

The fairgrounds may have been devoid of life, but it was certainly full of the undead. Zombies flew at the four Survivors minutes after they had left the safe room.

Ellis wasn't sure about his other companions, but he was getting an adrenaline rush from fighting the Infected. Maybe it was because he was getting to do what he had wanted to do since he had picked up his first hunting rifle, or maybe it was because he had just taken an adrenaline shot to the leg, he wasn't sure.

Nor did he care.

He was just focused on aiming and shooting the sons-of-bitches to smithereens. He felt a cheer rise up from his throat whenever he made a particularly nice kill, although he noticed that Nick, Coach, and Rochelle weren't as gung-ho about the whole killing thing.

Ellis couldn't help but feel elated: he had the whole carnival to himself, he'd just ran the tracks of the Screaming Oak, and now he was heading to the Peach Pit Stadium to try and get the attention of the helicopter pilot.

Hopefully the equipment of the Midnight Riders was still there so that he could rock out.

While Ellis's mind was going all over the place, Rochelle and Nick were just fixed on staying alive. As they passed a "Test Your Strength" game (with Moustachio as the star character), Nick accidentally fired a shot that caused the bell to give off a shrill ring.

The other Survivors winced as the signature wail of the Infected rose around them.

"You can lay that on me," Nick said coolly, as if he hadn't just alerted another horde their way. Coach grunted, Ellis grinned, and Rochelle slapped a new clip into her assault rifle.

The first few Infected that flowed towards them from the bumper cars were shot down, with some of the Survivors' bullets hitting the metal cars and ricocheting across the metal surfaces. Nick adjusted the sight of his assault rifle and fired at a Boomer that was waddling out of sight behind one of the bumper cars. The bullet passed through the Boomer, causing it to explode in a spout of blood and guts.

Nick and the other Survivors slowly shot their way towards the bumper cars, with Ellis delivering the final killing shot at an Infected wearing a janitor's uniform.

"I sure hope there's an ammo dump on the otha side," Coach huffed as he climbed up the ramp. Nick and Ellis opted to hoist themselves up and over the metal railings, while Rochelle followed Coach. "I'm as good as empty."

"Yeah, me too," Ellis nodded. "Now if Nick here hadn't shot the bell, we wouldn't have had to use all our bullets."

"It was an accident, Ellis," Rochelle spoke up defensively. "We all make mistakes."

Ellis bit his lip but said nothing. Nick rolled his eyes and walked across the small bumper car arena. The floor made a dull metallic echo as he walked, but it didn't seem loud enough to attract any of the fuckers.

There was a small access door at the back, which allowed them to skirt past the bumper cars. A row of tall hedges greeted them, as well as a gaggle of Infected. Coach slung his shotgun on his back and used a nearby crowbar to bash their brains in. Blood splatters formed on his shirt, which he wiped away with his hand.

"The stadium's not far! We're almost there!" Coach cried, elated. "We'll soon be outta here!"

"If his plan works," Nick muttered in an undertone. Rochelle, who was standing near him, heard what the conman said but didn't say anything.

The stadium was separated from the rest of the fair by a low brick wall and a high metal gate, which wound around the structure. As Nick and the other Survivors passed by, they saw the crowd of Infected that were milling around the entrance of the Peach Pit.

"Well fuck me sideways." Nick ran a hand through his hair and scowled. "We're going to need a tank to get through that horde."

"Don't say 'tank' Nick," Ellis said with wide eyes. "We ain't sure if there's a real tank nearby."

Nick was about to tell Ellis off with a sarcastic remark when they heard Coach yell from behind one of the tents. This was followed by a harsh roar and they all felt the ground shake beneath their feet.

"Oh come ON!" Nick yelled in angry disbelief. "What are the odds?!"

The Tank lumbered out from behind the hedges. It spotted the Survivors at once and lumbered towards them, roaring.

"Why can't that thing be on our side?" Rochelle griped, raising her assault rifle and firing at the Tank. Several plumes of blood exploded but that didn't slow the massive Infected one bit. Ellis shuffled slowly backwards, using the scope of his sniper rifle to fire bullets at the Tank's head.

Nick and Coach tried dancing around the Tank, but the latter was too slow to avoid the meaty fist that came flying through the air. Coach was slammed against the wall, which knocked the breath out of him. He groaned and raised his head. "Man, they beat me up good."

"Coach you okay?" Rochelle ejected the clip and slapped in her last one. "Somebody find a Molotov!"

"On it!" Ellis called. He'd just run out of bullets for his sniper rifle and he certainly didn't want to attack the huge son-of-a-bitch with the cricket bat he saw lying a few feet away from him. Still, the mechanic picked up the said melee weapon and ducked back inside the bumper car area, searching frantically for a Molotov.

"Jesus, this thing's pounding me to death!" he heard Coach cry amidst the roars of the Tank. The steady staccato of gunfire continued, but Ellis knew that Nick and Rochelle were running out of time – and bullets.

Amidst the Tank's roars, he heard the hair-raising scream of a Witch. Almost immediately the hairs on his arms stood straight up and he barely repressed a shudder.

"Hang in there Coach," Ellis murmured, finally spotting a Molotov lying beside one of the bumper cars. Ellis nearly stumbled as he ran back to his companions, flicking a match and lighting the Molotov as he did so.

"Throw it!" Nick ordered; the conman was in the process of reloading, while Rochelle was firing at the Tank in short bursts. Ellis carefully aimed the Molotov before throwing it. His aim proved true: the bottle smashed against the back of the Tank, immediately setting it on fire.

Coach was hunched over in front of the Tank and he was stirring feebly. Ellis felt dread wash over him, but he refused to give in to it.

'Coach can't die, he's the strongest of us,' Ellis thought, his forehead creasing. Without knowing what he was doing, Ellis unsheathed the cricket bat from his back, raised it over his head, and ran towards the Tank, which was in the process of falling onto its knees.

"Get away from Coach!" he cried, smashing the cricket bat against the side of the Tank's head. The Tank roared and then keeled forward, dead at last.

"Coach! Hey, you okay?" Ellis asked, dropping the cricket bat on the ground and leaning over the older man. "Come on, you've survived harder knocks than this."

"I…guess…" Coach spluttered, opening one bloodied eye. "Man why did I…ever leave Savannah?"

Ellis heard Nick sigh loudly and felt Rochelle crouch down beside him.

"Let's get you all patched up, old man," she kidded him, her thin fingers applying medicine on Coach's wounds and covering these in bandages. "There."

"Thanks fo' that," Coach said, smiling at her.

"Anytime, Coach. We're not letting you die on us." Rochelle smiled back at the man she had come to consider as an older brother and stepped back as Ellis and Nick helped Coach onto his feet.

"She's right. None of us can do what you can do, Coach," Ellis agreed, while Nick made a sort of shifty twitch that could have been a nod or a shrug. For a moment they stared at each other for a while, but as always, it was Nick who broke the silence by wondering out loud what pushed Ellis to attack a Tank with a…

"…goddamn cricket bat," Nick said, eyeing Ellis in disbelief. "I know you're crazy, kid, but not that batshit crazy."

"He was poundin' Coach to the ground, in case you didn't notice, Nick," Ellis retorted, retrieving the cricket bat from the ground.

"Don't rag on the poor boy, Nick," Coach scolded the conman. "At least he was doin' his part."

Nick's mouth was a tight line. Finally: "Hey, did you guys hear that Witch? I thought one of you guys startled her."

"Yeah, so did I," Ellis admitted, nodding. "Wouldn't that be something though? Facing a Witch and a Tank at the same time?"

"Nightmare," Rochelle put in.

Coach grunted. "Whatever happened, it made the Tank back off me. If that thing had pounded me one more time, I'd be a goner fo' sure."

The others were silent. Coach looked at his other companions for a while before he headed towards the gap in the hedges. The Peach Pit Stadium loomed up at them; they were now separated from it by a tall, metal grill – and a seemingly endless sea of Infected.

Infected

Julie stalked past the concessionaire stands, her dark hair flying behind her. Adrian and Carter were still in the stadium, while Vance leaped alongside her as they searched for the safe room.

# What's taking them so long? They should be here by now.

* You saw the horde outside, Jules. You know what's taking them so long.

Julie screamed at him; her temper was rising to the surface easily nowadays. Vance hissed and screeched back at her before the two of them managed to get a grip of their Infected tendencies.

- Hey, what's going on in there? Don't tell me you two are arguing! Aw, isn't that cute? Julie and Vance, screeching in the Pit, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

+ They're screeching and kissing? Your logic is irrational.

- They're screeching while they're kissing, you loose lip!

Julie screamed again; this time, her scream carried outside the Peach Pit and onto the fairgrounds.

- Whoa, anger management issues much, Jules?

Julie rolled her eyes and moved towards the back. She was about to declare the area useless when Vance spotted the faded red door.

* They'll pass through here. Should we wait outside or what?

# We wait inside. Julie reached through the bars that had been welded across the opening of the safe room door and felt a heavy pipe barricading the door. With a powerful pull, Julie lifted the pipe and tossed it onto the floor, where it made a metallic clang as it collided with the concrete. Julie pushed the door open and stepped inside, noting the table that had several weapons on it, as well as an ammunition stash.

* Jules, I don't think this is a good idea.

# My daddy is coming through that door any second. If I can thin the horde out for him, then he won't…

* Listen to me, Jules! If you go outside and kill the Infected, you'll be covered in blood. What do Survivors do with Witches that are covered in blood? You need to think of another way!

# There is no other way! I have to help him!

Julie wrenched her wrist away from Vance and headed towards the safe room door, which she flung open easily. Several Infected were standing right outside, but these simply ignored the Witch that slashed through them like a scythe. Vance gritted his teeth and followed her, noting the trail of blood that she made as she ran through the Infected with her claws.

The two had barely made it out of the main entrance to the stadium when they both heard the loud grinding of gears: the Survivors seemed to have opened the front gates.

* They're attracting the horde!

Julie tried to move forward, but even a Witch was powerless against the sudden force of an Infected horde. She was borne along the wave of Infected bodies, while Vance leaped to the side of the wall to avoid the rushing tide.

Julie tried to fight the force that was propelling her forward, but the Infected were working as one to get to the four Survivors who were standing just outside the gates. One of them was wearing a suit that had taken on a brownish yellow color.

# Daddy!

*Julie, no! They're going to-

Vance's screech caught the attention of one of the Survivors. Julie saw and met the gaze of the young woman and saw her raise a combat rifle.

# Daddy!

Before Julie could open her mouth or the young woman could fire, Vance pounced at Julie, tackling her to the ground. They both could hear the swift zip of the bullets as they flew over their heads, coupled by the splatter of blood that rained down on them as the Infected standing behind Julie were shot down.

"Whoa, did you see that?" It was the young male Southerner who spoke, nudging the man beside him.

Nick.

Julie struggled to get to her feet, but Vance was pulling away from the Survivors now, crouching low on the ground. The woman was still firing at the horde that flowed from the Peach Pit, and Vance knew that he had to stay low so that the bullets would hit the Infected behind and beside him.

Still, it was an intense struggle for him to get Julie a good distance away from the Survivors. Not only did he have to deal with the Infected that were propelling him forward, but also to maintain a firm grip on a very strong Witch.

*Jules, we have to go! I don't think your dad's in a 'meet and greet' mood now!

# Just let me go!

But Vance ignored her. He knew very well what would happen if he did: Julie would rush towards the Survivors, who would raise their guns and shoot her.

No. He wouldn't let that happen. Not to her. Not to Julie.

After what seemed like ages, Vance managed to get Julie into the safe room, where Adrian and Carter were waiting. The former's eyes were wide, which grew even wider as the Survivors came round the corner.

- Aw shit, man? How many times do we have to lead our enemies to us? First the Tank and now the Survivors?

* They're not our enemies, Adrian! Just help me get Julie into the stadium!

Adrian hopped over and wrapped his spindly arms around Julie's waist, but his grip was too weak.

- Man, this damn body isn't built to restrain people, most especially a Witch! Now if I could just hop on her back and ride her…

* Out of the question!

Adrian held his hands up and backed off. Vance met Carter's gaze and nodded, ignoring Julie who was – thankfully – silently thrashing about. He could feel his arms grow tired, and just when he thought that he was going to let go of her, he felt Carter wrap his slimy Smoker tongue around Julie's waist.

+ Julie, snap out of it! We've got to get out of here!

# Then let me go!

* And let you run to your dad?

# No! I won't! Come on!

Adrian had swung the safe room door open and Carter looked at Vance for confirmation. When the Hunter nodded, Carter retracted his tongue. Vance let go of Julie, who stared at the other safe room door for a moment.

Nick's profile appeared at the opening, and for the briefest moment his eyes met Julie's. Julie made a choked sob and ran out of the safe room, followed closely by her Infected comrades. Carter managed to slam the safe room door just before the Survivors entered, all looking bruised and battle-weary.

The Infected Survivors convened beside the stage; Julie pacing the area, her hands at her sides.

* How are they going to get out?

+ I've heard a helicopter circle the area a few times since we got here. Maybe they plan on using the Midnight Riders' set-up to attract the chopper pilot's attention.

- How do you know that?

+ I have a brain.

- Are you saying we're all stupid?

+ You said it, not me.

# We have to make sure they get on the helicopter.

The three other Infected looked at her. Julie's face no longer carried the longing and frenzied recklessness it had earlier; it was now replaced by a fierce determination. For a moment Vance could almost see what she looked like when she was human.

- Whoa, hold the fucking phone. You don't want to meet up with him anymore? I thought…I thought that was the whole point of this little trip!

# I do. More than anything. But my daddy's still alive, after everything he's been through. Before I meet up with him, I want to make sure that he's still alive. Not some corpse or Infected like us.

Vance was silent. And then…

*So we make sure he stays alive long enough to get to New Orleans. I can deal.

Vance and Julie both looked at Adrian and Carter, who nodded.

- Yeah, sure. It's not like I have any other plans.

+ Count me in.

Before Julie could thank any of them, they heard the telltale sound of gunshots.

*We'd better hide. They won't take kindly to seeing us after that horde outside.

The Infected Survivors headed for the other side of the stadium; Carter's tongue had barely whipped out of sight when Nick's party ran in. They systematically shot the other Infected that were milling about before they headed to the stage.

"Hey Coach, I think your heroes lip-sync. There's a tape here labeled 'Finale,'" Julie heard Nick call.

"They do? Damn," Coach replied.

Julie peered out from their hiding place and saw Nick push a button on the console just as one of his companions hit the stage lights. The music filled the stadium and they heard the first notes of one of the band's hit singles.

Like clockwork, the cry of the Infected rose and grew louder as they flowed into the stadium, attracted by the loud music and flashing lights. The Survivors had taken position at the center of the stage, which was close to the ammo pile and weapon stash.

Julie nodded at her companions, who eliminated the Infected that rushed by their hiding place. Vance pinned the Infected to the ground before ripping their throats out, Adrian jumped on their backs and rode them until they smashed their grayish heads against the concrete wall, and Carter shot his tongue out and practically lassoed the Infected towards Julie, who slashed at them until they were quivering masses of flesh and blood.

At first they thought that they would be seen, but the Survivors were concentrated on killing the Infected that entered their area. For a moment, the Infected Survivors and the human Survivors worked as one.

And then the Tanks came.

+ Why do I get the feeling like they have some battle plan?

* What do you mean? Vance raised his head to reveal blood running down the sides of his mouth.

+ It's like they attack after every wave of Infected has been killed. There's another one!

Sure enough a Tank lumbered past the Infected Survivors, keen on getting to the human Survivors on the stage.

- The chopper's here!

"Guys, the chopper's here!" Nick cried. Julie raised her head towards the sound of his voice, but he and his companions were already fighting their way down the stage and towards the left side of the stadium, where the helicopter was now hovering.

The Tank reared its head towards Nick's voice as well and lumbered after them. Nick and his female companion were firing at the Tank, while the other two were reloading. The Tank was quickly closing the gap between it and the Survivors.

# They're not going to make it! Adrian!

The Jockey hopped after the Tank while Julie flexed her claws. She could see her dad fight his way up the stands, taking several hits from the Infected that were attacking him from the back. Nick was slowing down, even though he and his companions were doing the best they could.

The Tank, coupled with the horde, was proving to be too much. Julie screamed then, rushing after Adrian and the Tank with her claws raised.

"Oh shit oh shit, oh shit!" Nick's blonde haired companion shouted, peering at Julie through the scope of his sniper rifle.

"Kill that bitch!"

Bullets flew in Julie's direction, but she managed to dodge most of them. A few bullets ripped at her, leaving red gashes on the side of her torso.

Adrian was close to the Tank now, his maniacal laughter drowned out by the Tank's roars. As the massive Infected ripped a concrete slab from the stands, Adrian took a gigantic leap and landed on the Tank's shoulders.

Distracted, the Tank dropped the concrete slab and swatted at the Jockey.

"What the fuck is that thing doing?" the woman screamed.

"Don't ask, just get in the goddamn chopper!" Nick ordered, and the woman obeyed.

Adrian rode the Tank for a few more seconds before he was forced to hop off to avoid being punched. It was then when Julie sank her claws on the Tank's back. She pushed her claws further into the flesh, feeling it tear beneath her.

"Nick! Get in the chopper!"

Julie was busy pulling her claws out of the Tank, which was trying to shake her off, to see that Nick was aiming at the group of gasoline cans standing near them. A well-aimed bullet ignited the gasoline, which spewed over the Tank and Julie.

* Julie!

Vance was about to help bring the Tank down when Julie was caught in the cross fire – literally – and pushed her out of the way to avoid the Tank swinging its large arms about. Julie screamed as the fire licked her skin, and Vance was forced to take off his hoodie to extinguish the fire the best he could.

- He's inside the chopper!

Julie whimpered as Vance accidentally pressed a few fingers against the blackened skin, but she moved forward and raised her eyes towards the chopper.

For the second time that night, Nick's and Julie's eyes met. This time, however, some form of recognition – or surprise – flashed across Nick's eyes as he studied the Witch that stood on the stands below him, her feet slightly apart, her hip cocked to one side, and her hands at her sides.

"Just like Julie," Nick murmured to himself, noting that this Witch seemed…different. Not only was she standing still, but she had black hair. His eyes lowered and he thought he saw something glint against the Witch's pale skin.

A locket, maybe?

While Nick mulled over the Witch's strange appearance, Julie stared back at him, memorizing every inch of his face.

'I love you, Daddy. You've been protecting me my whole life. Now it's my turn,' Julie thought as the chopper flew out of sight. 'I'll make sure you get to New Orleans alive. No matter what.'