Chapter Twenty:
Doing Different Things in Different Places
Everyone was back at the mess-hall tent. Or, where it used to be. Willow was sleeping with Kennedy in her arms. Giles was dozing off and Xander was also asleep. They were all sitting or laying on the ground, which was coated in a layer of dirt and building debris. Dawn and Oz were still out.
Angel thought of the decapitated bodies they had seen. Dirt and dust had blown over the bodies. It was like they were in a desert and several soldiers were lagging behind and finally dropping.
That made Angel think of water. How were they gonna get water? Or blood? Animal blood, anyway. Food was an issue as well.
Much of the mess-hall's machinery was left behind in bits and pieces, but you could probably still find a few bits of food amongst the destruction. They'd have to get water from the sewer systems somehow. He remembered Buffy mentioning the water pouring out into the crater that Ashley had been found in. They'd have to boil it to get rid of all the shit and piss germs--if there were any--but it was still water. And it was necessary. They weren't in any shape to start doing any of that yet, however. They'd need rest before they set off to accomplish anything.
Giles stood up wearily to greet them. He met Fred and saw an unconscious Monique. He was quite interested in Fred's background for the last few months. He was interested in Illyria is another way to put it. He recognized Monique as the Slayer attacked by the short demon. No Gunn was awake to tell them its name: Zaerintoleran.
Giles was then told to get some rest. Buffy told Angel about the rest of what happened, but she was puzzled about Kennedy's situation and couldn't give him much information on that.
It was in the midst of this conversation that Dawn mumbled something inarticulately. Buffy spun around immediately and ran to Dawn. When she reached the bleeding body Dawn tried to sit up. She tried and failed. Tried and failed. Buffy helped her out.
"What happened?" Dawn almost whispered, her voice slurred and her words elongated and hard to understand.
"You're awake!" Buffy cried. "Thank God!" Buffy then hugged Dawn fiercely.
Dawn spotted Fred and was immediately confused in her extremely weary state. She wondered why Illyria wasn't blue anymore. And she also had no idea who the woman soldier was. Of course, both of those things were miniscule when compared to her overwhelming confusion at why everyone was beat up and why all the buildings were skeletons or collapsed. She could smell fire.
She also wondered why there were no bodies.
Later…
Spike had been getting a familiar feeling. It had occurred before he had seen Illyria's death. He had walked away from the base to get his mind to be able to focus on the feeling in fact. He wondered why it hadn't come before he had seen Lorne's death.
"The Death of Your Comrades Act Three coming right up," he whispered to himself. He wandered away from the others claiming that he would go look for survivors. He wanted no one, especially Buffy, to see him while he was seeing. That's what he called it now, seeing.
When he got out of view and ear shot of the others he stayed stationary. And he waited.
It was Buffy this time.
All he had was a jumble of images and words.
A blue tentacle.
Help.
Buffy staring in horror.
Help!
Dawn and Fred.
HELP!
A Mochlackdangodenack.
HELP!
A big, blue demon that Buffy called Ill--Illyria!
PLEASE HELP!
And Lindsey with a maniac's grin.
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SOMEONE HELP HER!
And then he was in a tall chamber. Fire ran up the gigantic walls on both sides of a skinny
walkway he was standing on. The walls stretched up to a point in the sky that he couldn't see beyond, and they stretched further even beyond the end of the walkway, which ended in a large circle with a throne that something bony and relatively small was sitting on. Spike looked below. There was an ocean of fire not quite so far down. The walkway itself was suspended in mid air. Spike was standing on the furthest portion away from the thing sitting on the throne.
He took a precautious step forward towards the throne. Each step after that became more and
more natural. The walkway's surface was soft like a pillow full of Styrofoam, but much more stable to walk on.
Eventually he reached the throne. The chamber seemed to be temperature less. Of course, Spike had no idea what it felt like to be temperature less so he didn't know that. Not to mention his mind was racing and confused. What's happening? Is this cold? Hot? Shouldn't I know? I just saw Buffy die. Please don't let it happen. Why am I here?
Sitting in the throne was an extremely old-looking man with a tail. The man's skin was stretched so tightly over his body that he looked like a skeleton. His eyes were glazed and unfocused. His lips were cracked with dryness along with his tongue. His teeth were yellow to an absurd point and his hair was stringy and fell down to his eyebrows. He had no beard and no mustache.
"Oh Spike," the man spoke in a healthy, commanding, reprimanding voice that was extremely unexpected from such a man. Spike jumped. He had expected his birth name to be used, not
'Spike'. "I figured it was time for you to meet me."
"Guy giving me the moving pictures in my head," Spike stated. "Thanks for the head-splitting head aches you wanker."
"Would you prefer to have Lorne dead… along with Buffy?"
"Buffy's dead?" Spike asked. "How long have I been here?!"
"No she's not, calm down," the man demanded. "I merely suggested that if you had not been submitted to the head-splitting head aches that I have given you three times now, Buffy and Lorne would most certainly be dead."
Spike calmed down. "Who are you anyway?"
The man smiled. "I am the Shape Shifting Magi of Old," he said with pride and a crooked smile.
Spike stood there silently for almost an entire minute before bursting out into laughter. Between fits he gasped out the following.
"Why not just call yourself… Gandalf the White! I've heard… some lame names before… but that takes the prize!"
The Magi glared at him. "I'll forgive you for that spit in the face." Spike tried for the next several minutes to get himself under control. Eventually he did.
"I have a question," Spike stated. "Why are you helping me? Us?"
The Magi smiled. "That's what I summoned you to tell you."
"You summoned me to tell me why you were helping me?" Spike asked. "Why?"
"I've been alive all of my life. That life consists of over five billion years. I was around long before the universe was even created. I'm bored. I have been bored for so, so, so long. Even before your first ancestor was created I was bored of being bored, even. The only thing that helps pull me out of that unending boredom is company. I brought you here for company."
"Why are you helping us?"
"Because I die when the Final Apocalypse is averted. If it is, that is. When you win this war, I will pass on. I will no longer be bored. And… I will feel." The Magi held his hand which was covered in skin that resembled a paper bag. "No longer will I sit here, engulfed in flames that I cannot feel. No longer will I sit on the most comfortable chair in any universe or dimension and not appreciate. It's so odd to see fire and not feel heat. That's what fire is, is heat. When you win this war, I will be burned alive, and I will feel it. This is why I am helping you."
"For your own selfish reasons?"
"Precisely."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. Well, you better get going, Spike. Got several birds to kill." And then Spike was back in Los Angeles. It was cold and the sun was getting up high in the sky. Not much time had passed since he had seen Buffy's death. He rushed off to keep a close eye on Buffy. His love.
Meanwhile…
Five hours later Connor had been filled in on everything that they had known. He had been relieved to find out that the world was still in existence, but he was still… odd. Like he was in a trance. But he was already much better than when he had first shown up. Soon they would need to go for food and water.
The first of the surviving soldiers to reach the base had been bitten several times all over his body. Ten minutes later he was grabbing at Lorne with his mouth agape and growling. So they had blown his brains out the back of his head through a hole the size of maybe a wallet. After that they had better luck with the survivors.
Before the end of the day there were five survivors who hadn't been bitten. There were a couple who were severely injured, but other than that it was good.
By the next morning there were nine healthy survivors and two ex-survivors. Basically, two had arrived and then died.
Their names were, in the order that they arrived, Jack Pinciotti, Amber Irvin, Edward Dealan, Adam Reeze, Adam Bezz, Jared Howell, Jack Creeze, Victor Chase, and Vernon Egan. The two dead were Paul Pool and Edward Eeze.
Willow was distraught over Kennedy still and couldn't do healing spells or anything on the injured. Dawn was too weak to do much, Oz was unconscious, and some of the new arrivals had wounds that just wouldn't stop bleeding. Xander was scouting with Buffy and Spike for medical supplies. Spike had insisted on going with the two. Angel had seen Spike's eyes on Buffy, but he hadn't said anything. Buffy had exited his life long ago. Best not to fall back into old habits. He had bit his tongue so hard. Other things--more important things--required attention.
Such as the necessity of water.
Angel gathered a team that included himself, Giles, Jared Howell, Amber Irvin, and Edward Dealan to go get water. That left six, including Willow, Gwen, and Ashley, to take care of the six injured and catatonic and not-all-there people. They would've taken Ashley, but she said she might be able to heal some of the wounds with her mind. Just like she had killed the zombies with her mind. Hopefully Spike, Buffy, and Xander wouldn't be gone very long.
Jared was in his thirties probably and was pale. His face was set and hard, a professional's face. One used to the death of people. Amber was very young. She was a Slayer and was now very pale. She had an innocent face… or, rather, the face of one whose innocence was just demolished in one foul swoop. Edward had the somewhat young face of a joker who hasn't yet fully matured in his mind. He wasn't cracking any jokes now.
The five of them traveled silently through the city, guns in hand and trained on dark areas. Other than a few confused and lost Mochlackdangodenacks they didn't have to kill anything before they reached the crater.
At the crater there would be sewer water to gather, boil, and drink. They each had a bucket dangling from their wrists. They were easy to transport empty, but they'd be much harder full. Not to mention they'd spill if they had to run.
Immediately Amber and Jared turned to run. Giles and Angel stopped them because there was no threat. The thousands of zombies filling the crater and the outside were standing quite still and staring into the sky wordlessly. The five hadn't been noticed yet, but they didn't want to run and attract them with their footsteps. They'd have to carefully walk away.
They began to walk away backwards at a brisk pace when they heard a humming. It was a very, very silent humming. Maybe the zombies, in their decomposed forms, were incapable of making louder humming noises. Or maybe it wasn't coming from the zombies.
Suddenly white beams shot violently out of each of the zombies standing in or around the crater and into a point at eye-level with Angel and his group. Then the white beams disappeared.
Giles had a very bad feeling about what was about to happen.
The white beams shot right back to each of the zombies twice as violently as they had been shot out. Each beam went right into a mouth and down a throat.
Have you ever heard a dead body gag and puke? Of course you haven't, but it doesn't sound pleasant in the least.
Each zombie gagged and dropped to its knees. They kept gagging. One by one they eventually puked something out. This something then flowed like water down to the center of the crater.
When the zombies had all puked out this watery substance there was something standing there in the middle of the gigantic crater.
It was made of pure white flesh that smelled decomposed and stood twelve feet tall. It had two three foot, white horns sprouting out of its forehead. It opened its eyes and they were entirely blue. It had no nose. Its mouth was small. It was closed at the moment, but when it was open it was a small 'o'.
It had two arms, each five feet long. It had clubs for hands. These clubs were perfectly rounded.
The demon had not one single jagged shape on it.
It had two legs. These were furry legs that ended in talons. Everything was pure white. Had it not been for the black smoke rising in the distance and the dark color of the zombies it would be invisible except for its light, blue eyes. The same eyes that had just spotted the gang of intruders.
It thrust one club in the direction of the gang and then ran in two directions. Is that possible? For the Zombie Commander it was. It split apart and charged around the zombies toward the gang.
Zombies ran after it, shrieking.
If there was ever a time for running, that was it.
It was as though five people with guns that contained bullets the size of humans fired those same bullets simultaneously. Amber was a Slayer, so she could run faster due to bigger leg muscles. Jared, however, was not so lucky to have youth and supernatural strength or a starting point further away from the zombies like Giles did.
When the Zombie Commander's two halves got on either side of Jared they closed on him. His head was squashed like a watermelon hit with a sledgehammer the size of Texas, and the Zombie Commander kept running with an army of zombies following in its wake.
Angel, being the only one with a photographic memory, was the only one to remember how they had escaped the army and the Z.C. They had all leapt over the burned skeleton of a family van and ducked into a building unnoticed because of the few seconds that they had been concealed by the van from the zombies.
They had then run through the building to the other side and entered a parking garage that had somehow survived the many explosions of parked cars. Through the maze of skeletal cars they split up. Amber had read once that a hunter confronted with many different prey usually never went after one. Hopefully the scents going in different directions would confuse them and stop them in their tracks. After that they had regrouped and run blindly until they came across the medical tent. Angel thought of checking for survivors because they weren't being followed anymore, then remembered the death Ashley had brought. It was doubtful there would be survivors.
So they ran on back to the mess hall tent site with no water and no food. They were as good as dead.
Meanwhile…
Lindsey sensed another great power nearing. His army grew ever larger.
Lindsey looked up from his card game with Illyria, who had been eager to go kill but had been stopped by Lindsey. There was Bob. He was looking at them with a maniacal smile on his extremely thin face.
"I want to join," he said simply. Lindsey smiled, too.
"You're in, Bob."
Meanwhile…
Zombies from Wisconsin, from Maine, from New York, from Mississippi, from insert state name here, were rushing to the crater in Los Angeles. It was the Birth Crater to them. The Birth Crater from which they would give birth to a Zombie Commander. To many Zombie Commanders. And then to a Zombie Emperor.
They were flowing into Los Angeles like water. Thousands more were gathering around the Birth Crater before nightfall. Thousands more at midnight.
Four Zombie Commanders were on Earth by morning. They needed six more so that the ten Z.C.s could give birth to the Zombie Emperor. So they kept coming.
When Spike, Buffy, and Xander returned with some medical supplies they were filled in about the white demon--none of them knew it was a Zombie Commander and none of them knew the true power it held within it to create the Zombie Emperor. So they went about in their blissful innocence, for it was blissful innocence compared to what they didn't know and how much suffering it would bring.
666
Hey, Morbidman here. Told you I'd keep updating. I hope you liked this and please review. I'm trying to update quicker now, but I'm without a computer for five entire days of the week, so I'm trying to work with the two I have: Friday and Saturday. Sometimes a portion of Sunday.
Anyway, within the next five or six chapter the Final Battles will begin. I've got quite explosive things planned for them and there will be many of them. The story's far from over. It's only half over. Mark my words. See you next chapter.
"I don't know why I came here tonight,
I got the feeling something ain't right,
I'm so scared I fall off my chair,
And I'm wondering how I'll get down the stair,
Clowns to the left of me,
Jokers to the right,
Here I am,
Stuck in the middle with you." - Stealer's Wheel "Stuck in the Middle With You" (an awesome '70s song)
Doing Different Things in Different Places
Everyone was back at the mess-hall tent. Or, where it used to be. Willow was sleeping with Kennedy in her arms. Giles was dozing off and Xander was also asleep. They were all sitting or laying on the ground, which was coated in a layer of dirt and building debris. Dawn and Oz were still out.
Angel thought of the decapitated bodies they had seen. Dirt and dust had blown over the bodies. It was like they were in a desert and several soldiers were lagging behind and finally dropping.
That made Angel think of water. How were they gonna get water? Or blood? Animal blood, anyway. Food was an issue as well.
Much of the mess-hall's machinery was left behind in bits and pieces, but you could probably still find a few bits of food amongst the destruction. They'd have to get water from the sewer systems somehow. He remembered Buffy mentioning the water pouring out into the crater that Ashley had been found in. They'd have to boil it to get rid of all the shit and piss germs--if there were any--but it was still water. And it was necessary. They weren't in any shape to start doing any of that yet, however. They'd need rest before they set off to accomplish anything.
Giles stood up wearily to greet them. He met Fred and saw an unconscious Monique. He was quite interested in Fred's background for the last few months. He was interested in Illyria is another way to put it. He recognized Monique as the Slayer attacked by the short demon. No Gunn was awake to tell them its name: Zaerintoleran.
Giles was then told to get some rest. Buffy told Angel about the rest of what happened, but she was puzzled about Kennedy's situation and couldn't give him much information on that.
It was in the midst of this conversation that Dawn mumbled something inarticulately. Buffy spun around immediately and ran to Dawn. When she reached the bleeding body Dawn tried to sit up. She tried and failed. Tried and failed. Buffy helped her out.
"What happened?" Dawn almost whispered, her voice slurred and her words elongated and hard to understand.
"You're awake!" Buffy cried. "Thank God!" Buffy then hugged Dawn fiercely.
Dawn spotted Fred and was immediately confused in her extremely weary state. She wondered why Illyria wasn't blue anymore. And she also had no idea who the woman soldier was. Of course, both of those things were miniscule when compared to her overwhelming confusion at why everyone was beat up and why all the buildings were skeletons or collapsed. She could smell fire.
She also wondered why there were no bodies.
Later…
Spike had been getting a familiar feeling. It had occurred before he had seen Illyria's death. He had walked away from the base to get his mind to be able to focus on the feeling in fact. He wondered why it hadn't come before he had seen Lorne's death.
"The Death of Your Comrades Act Three coming right up," he whispered to himself. He wandered away from the others claiming that he would go look for survivors. He wanted no one, especially Buffy, to see him while he was seeing. That's what he called it now, seeing.
When he got out of view and ear shot of the others he stayed stationary. And he waited.
It was Buffy this time.
All he had was a jumble of images and words.
A blue tentacle.
Help.
Buffy staring in horror.
Help!
Dawn and Fred.
HELP!
A Mochlackdangodenack.
HELP!
A big, blue demon that Buffy called Ill--Illyria!
PLEASE HELP!
And Lindsey with a maniac's grin.
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SOMEONE HELP HER!
And then he was in a tall chamber. Fire ran up the gigantic walls on both sides of a skinny
walkway he was standing on. The walls stretched up to a point in the sky that he couldn't see beyond, and they stretched further even beyond the end of the walkway, which ended in a large circle with a throne that something bony and relatively small was sitting on. Spike looked below. There was an ocean of fire not quite so far down. The walkway itself was suspended in mid air. Spike was standing on the furthest portion away from the thing sitting on the throne.
He took a precautious step forward towards the throne. Each step after that became more and
more natural. The walkway's surface was soft like a pillow full of Styrofoam, but much more stable to walk on.
Eventually he reached the throne. The chamber seemed to be temperature less. Of course, Spike had no idea what it felt like to be temperature less so he didn't know that. Not to mention his mind was racing and confused. What's happening? Is this cold? Hot? Shouldn't I know? I just saw Buffy die. Please don't let it happen. Why am I here?
Sitting in the throne was an extremely old-looking man with a tail. The man's skin was stretched so tightly over his body that he looked like a skeleton. His eyes were glazed and unfocused. His lips were cracked with dryness along with his tongue. His teeth were yellow to an absurd point and his hair was stringy and fell down to his eyebrows. He had no beard and no mustache.
"Oh Spike," the man spoke in a healthy, commanding, reprimanding voice that was extremely unexpected from such a man. Spike jumped. He had expected his birth name to be used, not
'Spike'. "I figured it was time for you to meet me."
"Guy giving me the moving pictures in my head," Spike stated. "Thanks for the head-splitting head aches you wanker."
"Would you prefer to have Lorne dead… along with Buffy?"
"Buffy's dead?" Spike asked. "How long have I been here?!"
"No she's not, calm down," the man demanded. "I merely suggested that if you had not been submitted to the head-splitting head aches that I have given you three times now, Buffy and Lorne would most certainly be dead."
Spike calmed down. "Who are you anyway?"
The man smiled. "I am the Shape Shifting Magi of Old," he said with pride and a crooked smile.
Spike stood there silently for almost an entire minute before bursting out into laughter. Between fits he gasped out the following.
"Why not just call yourself… Gandalf the White! I've heard… some lame names before… but that takes the prize!"
The Magi glared at him. "I'll forgive you for that spit in the face." Spike tried for the next several minutes to get himself under control. Eventually he did.
"I have a question," Spike stated. "Why are you helping me? Us?"
The Magi smiled. "That's what I summoned you to tell you."
"You summoned me to tell me why you were helping me?" Spike asked. "Why?"
"I've been alive all of my life. That life consists of over five billion years. I was around long before the universe was even created. I'm bored. I have been bored for so, so, so long. Even before your first ancestor was created I was bored of being bored, even. The only thing that helps pull me out of that unending boredom is company. I brought you here for company."
"Why are you helping us?"
"Because I die when the Final Apocalypse is averted. If it is, that is. When you win this war, I will pass on. I will no longer be bored. And… I will feel." The Magi held his hand which was covered in skin that resembled a paper bag. "No longer will I sit here, engulfed in flames that I cannot feel. No longer will I sit on the most comfortable chair in any universe or dimension and not appreciate. It's so odd to see fire and not feel heat. That's what fire is, is heat. When you win this war, I will be burned alive, and I will feel it. This is why I am helping you."
"For your own selfish reasons?"
"Precisely."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. Well, you better get going, Spike. Got several birds to kill." And then Spike was back in Los Angeles. It was cold and the sun was getting up high in the sky. Not much time had passed since he had seen Buffy's death. He rushed off to keep a close eye on Buffy. His love.
Meanwhile…
Five hours later Connor had been filled in on everything that they had known. He had been relieved to find out that the world was still in existence, but he was still… odd. Like he was in a trance. But he was already much better than when he had first shown up. Soon they would need to go for food and water.
The first of the surviving soldiers to reach the base had been bitten several times all over his body. Ten minutes later he was grabbing at Lorne with his mouth agape and growling. So they had blown his brains out the back of his head through a hole the size of maybe a wallet. After that they had better luck with the survivors.
Before the end of the day there were five survivors who hadn't been bitten. There were a couple who were severely injured, but other than that it was good.
By the next morning there were nine healthy survivors and two ex-survivors. Basically, two had arrived and then died.
Their names were, in the order that they arrived, Jack Pinciotti, Amber Irvin, Edward Dealan, Adam Reeze, Adam Bezz, Jared Howell, Jack Creeze, Victor Chase, and Vernon Egan. The two dead were Paul Pool and Edward Eeze.
Willow was distraught over Kennedy still and couldn't do healing spells or anything on the injured. Dawn was too weak to do much, Oz was unconscious, and some of the new arrivals had wounds that just wouldn't stop bleeding. Xander was scouting with Buffy and Spike for medical supplies. Spike had insisted on going with the two. Angel had seen Spike's eyes on Buffy, but he hadn't said anything. Buffy had exited his life long ago. Best not to fall back into old habits. He had bit his tongue so hard. Other things--more important things--required attention.
Such as the necessity of water.
Angel gathered a team that included himself, Giles, Jared Howell, Amber Irvin, and Edward Dealan to go get water. That left six, including Willow, Gwen, and Ashley, to take care of the six injured and catatonic and not-all-there people. They would've taken Ashley, but she said she might be able to heal some of the wounds with her mind. Just like she had killed the zombies with her mind. Hopefully Spike, Buffy, and Xander wouldn't be gone very long.
Jared was in his thirties probably and was pale. His face was set and hard, a professional's face. One used to the death of people. Amber was very young. She was a Slayer and was now very pale. She had an innocent face… or, rather, the face of one whose innocence was just demolished in one foul swoop. Edward had the somewhat young face of a joker who hasn't yet fully matured in his mind. He wasn't cracking any jokes now.
The five of them traveled silently through the city, guns in hand and trained on dark areas. Other than a few confused and lost Mochlackdangodenacks they didn't have to kill anything before they reached the crater.
At the crater there would be sewer water to gather, boil, and drink. They each had a bucket dangling from their wrists. They were easy to transport empty, but they'd be much harder full. Not to mention they'd spill if they had to run.
Immediately Amber and Jared turned to run. Giles and Angel stopped them because there was no threat. The thousands of zombies filling the crater and the outside were standing quite still and staring into the sky wordlessly. The five hadn't been noticed yet, but they didn't want to run and attract them with their footsteps. They'd have to carefully walk away.
They began to walk away backwards at a brisk pace when they heard a humming. It was a very, very silent humming. Maybe the zombies, in their decomposed forms, were incapable of making louder humming noises. Or maybe it wasn't coming from the zombies.
Suddenly white beams shot violently out of each of the zombies standing in or around the crater and into a point at eye-level with Angel and his group. Then the white beams disappeared.
Giles had a very bad feeling about what was about to happen.
The white beams shot right back to each of the zombies twice as violently as they had been shot out. Each beam went right into a mouth and down a throat.
Have you ever heard a dead body gag and puke? Of course you haven't, but it doesn't sound pleasant in the least.
Each zombie gagged and dropped to its knees. They kept gagging. One by one they eventually puked something out. This something then flowed like water down to the center of the crater.
When the zombies had all puked out this watery substance there was something standing there in the middle of the gigantic crater.
It was made of pure white flesh that smelled decomposed and stood twelve feet tall. It had two three foot, white horns sprouting out of its forehead. It opened its eyes and they were entirely blue. It had no nose. Its mouth was small. It was closed at the moment, but when it was open it was a small 'o'.
It had two arms, each five feet long. It had clubs for hands. These clubs were perfectly rounded.
The demon had not one single jagged shape on it.
It had two legs. These were furry legs that ended in talons. Everything was pure white. Had it not been for the black smoke rising in the distance and the dark color of the zombies it would be invisible except for its light, blue eyes. The same eyes that had just spotted the gang of intruders.
It thrust one club in the direction of the gang and then ran in two directions. Is that possible? For the Zombie Commander it was. It split apart and charged around the zombies toward the gang.
Zombies ran after it, shrieking.
If there was ever a time for running, that was it.
It was as though five people with guns that contained bullets the size of humans fired those same bullets simultaneously. Amber was a Slayer, so she could run faster due to bigger leg muscles. Jared, however, was not so lucky to have youth and supernatural strength or a starting point further away from the zombies like Giles did.
When the Zombie Commander's two halves got on either side of Jared they closed on him. His head was squashed like a watermelon hit with a sledgehammer the size of Texas, and the Zombie Commander kept running with an army of zombies following in its wake.
Angel, being the only one with a photographic memory, was the only one to remember how they had escaped the army and the Z.C. They had all leapt over the burned skeleton of a family van and ducked into a building unnoticed because of the few seconds that they had been concealed by the van from the zombies.
They had then run through the building to the other side and entered a parking garage that had somehow survived the many explosions of parked cars. Through the maze of skeletal cars they split up. Amber had read once that a hunter confronted with many different prey usually never went after one. Hopefully the scents going in different directions would confuse them and stop them in their tracks. After that they had regrouped and run blindly until they came across the medical tent. Angel thought of checking for survivors because they weren't being followed anymore, then remembered the death Ashley had brought. It was doubtful there would be survivors.
So they ran on back to the mess hall tent site with no water and no food. They were as good as dead.
Meanwhile…
Lindsey sensed another great power nearing. His army grew ever larger.
Lindsey looked up from his card game with Illyria, who had been eager to go kill but had been stopped by Lindsey. There was Bob. He was looking at them with a maniacal smile on his extremely thin face.
"I want to join," he said simply. Lindsey smiled, too.
"You're in, Bob."
Meanwhile…
Zombies from Wisconsin, from Maine, from New York, from Mississippi, from insert state name here, were rushing to the crater in Los Angeles. It was the Birth Crater to them. The Birth Crater from which they would give birth to a Zombie Commander. To many Zombie Commanders. And then to a Zombie Emperor.
They were flowing into Los Angeles like water. Thousands more were gathering around the Birth Crater before nightfall. Thousands more at midnight.
Four Zombie Commanders were on Earth by morning. They needed six more so that the ten Z.C.s could give birth to the Zombie Emperor. So they kept coming.
When Spike, Buffy, and Xander returned with some medical supplies they were filled in about the white demon--none of them knew it was a Zombie Commander and none of them knew the true power it held within it to create the Zombie Emperor. So they went about in their blissful innocence, for it was blissful innocence compared to what they didn't know and how much suffering it would bring.
666
Hey, Morbidman here. Told you I'd keep updating. I hope you liked this and please review. I'm trying to update quicker now, but I'm without a computer for five entire days of the week, so I'm trying to work with the two I have: Friday and Saturday. Sometimes a portion of Sunday.
Anyway, within the next five or six chapter the Final Battles will begin. I've got quite explosive things planned for them and there will be many of them. The story's far from over. It's only half over. Mark my words. See you next chapter.
"I don't know why I came here tonight,
I got the feeling something ain't right,
I'm so scared I fall off my chair,
And I'm wondering how I'll get down the stair,
Clowns to the left of me,
Jokers to the right,
Here I am,
Stuck in the middle with you." - Stealer's Wheel "Stuck in the Middle With You" (an awesome '70s song)