Since I no longer have to worry about a maximum word count limit, I have added a bit more to this story than I originally had. Stuff I left out for length reasons, but can now put back in. Because of this, Part 2 might be a little bit longer than Part 1. Hope you like it! I'll try to update again soon. :)

Reign of the Dead

BROTHERS

Part 1

He no longer had time to wait for his brother. People were screaming everywhere. How it got this bad, this fast, was beyond him. This was supposed to be a safe haven. What the hell happened? He ran for the helicopter, but soldiers were shooting anyone that got near it. A few more people that were initially boarding hopped on the chopper, than the soldiers that were shooting people jumped on as well. It rose into the air and began soaring over the east wall. He climbed up on the hood of a transport truck and then climbed on to the roof of it. He looked down into the frantic crowd and could see who was human and who was monster. More of the things came running out of the large tents that were being set up as medical treatment areas. Some looked like patients; others were doctors and soldiers, newly changed. He heard a growl from below and saw as one was scrambling up the hood trying to get to him. He turned and ran down the opposite length of the truck climbing up to a balcony overlooking the courtyard. The crowd was thinning out as people ran out the front gate. As he ran he saw what looked like a soldier running towards him, but the closer he got the more he saw that it wasn't. He quickly jumped over the railing to another truck below, then onto the ground. He saw a dead soldier on the ground and ran over to him. He removed the dead soldier's Beretta, a clip, and then started running again. As he ran towards the east gate he checked the gun to see if the clip inside had bullets and it did. He stuffed the extra clip in his pocket and ran out the gate. He frantically looked left and right searching for something to escape in. He saw people and the monsters chasing them. He saw a parking lot across the road and ran for it. One of the monsters was running straight at him. He tried to go around, but it matched his movements as it charged him from the front. He had no choice but to shoot. Two shots in the chest did nothing. He got to one knee quickly taking aim and fired three more times for the head. The monster was hit in the forehead and dropped to the ground. Six years… Six years since he had fired a gun. He got up and started running towards the nearest car. He was about to commit another crime. Not even three weeks since he had gotten out of jail. But he needed to go; he needed to find his brother. He had just begun to heal the rift between them. He looked forward to starting over and spending plenty of time making a new life for himself now that he and his brother were finally talking. But unfortunately for Keenan, time was about to run out.

April 11, 1964 – Charleston, South Carolina

He had been anxious all day. He was upset his father wasn't there; as if he cared enough anyways. But he was there for his mom. He always would be. The nurse called over to him to get up. He was excited and wanted to see so badly, but was told that he had to wait for his mommy to start feeling better since it was so hard for her. He didn't understand why she was sick, but the nurse said that his mom needed some time to rest. He took the nurse's hand as she led him to a large glass wall. There he looked inside. There were many others around, but he couldn't see which one. "Where?" He asked impatiently.

"Right there in the front. Here, the other nurse will hold him up." The nurse said smiling. She waved for the other nurse to come and when she did, he could see clearly. He smiled and looked up at the nurse while pointing to the other nurse in the nursery holding the baby. She nodded her head. "That's right Kenneth. That's your new baby brother. His name is Keenan."

May 9, 2004 – Milwaukee, Wisconsin

Kenneth sat on the chair holding his arm the woman had just patched up. He watched one of the large televisions with one of the survivors he ran into as well as two security guards as a reporter was questioning a military officer about what people who are watching should do. The man answered as soldiers and cameramen behind them helped or were filming wounded people being removed from trucks. "… What I would suggest is that you come to Fort Pastor and if you can't make it here we have multiple search and rescue teams out there and they will find you."

"My brother's there." Kenneth said smiling slightly. "He's waiting for me."

The TV image shot to a woman being removed from the truck, it looked like her right eye was missing. Kenneth's moment of hope soon faded as he had a dark sense of foreboding about what was going to happen. He thought of his brother and if he had made it there. Kenneth should have kept going; he shouldn't have stopped to help that woman. He could be at Fort Pastor right now with his brother, planning their next move instead of here with a couple of strangers and three idiot security guards that held them there. He and his brother were always tough, but together, they were unstoppable. Kenneth remembered when they were younger. A time before everything turned bad between them.

September 24, 1968 – Charleston, South Carolina

Keenan was crying as Kenneth rocked him back and forth. His eyes were red and watery, but he held back the tears. He tried singing to Keenan the way his mom had, but it just wasn't the same. But he had to be strong for his brother, because now he was his responsibility. He remembered what his mother had said just before she died. His eyes full of tears and holding a tight grip on her hand. She asked him to take care of Keenan and to look out for him. She said she loved them both very much and that no matter what, to stay together. Together they were strong and could watch out for each other. So much she had wanted to say, but her time was up. She closed her eyes for the last time. Kenneth looked up from Keenan who was just now starting to settle down. He saw a nurse wheel his mom out of the room and down the hall.

Another nurse knelt down next to the newly orphaned brothers. "It's time to go now ok?" She said softly.

"What about mom?" Kenneth asked.

She looked down sympathetically, then back up. "We're going to put her in a safe place for now."

"She liked the ocean. Maybe you could bury her by the ocean." Kenneth said sniffing back tears.

The nurse wiped some tears from her own eyes. "I'm sure she would like that."

She gently picked up Keenan and the three of them walked down the opposite hall. Kenneth looked back one last time as he saw the nurse turn and wheel his mom down another hallway. "Goodbye mommy." Kenneth said as they made their turn for the elevator.

June 12, 1976 – Atlanta, Georgia

"Pick and roll Kenny! Pick and roll!" Someone yelled.

Kenneth quickly stepped up to Keenan's defenseman. The kid ran into Kenneth's brick wall pick and fell down. Kenneth's defender was confused and began guarding Keenan which gave Kenneth his chance. He broke for the paint. Keenan saw him move and quickly tossed him the basketball right in between two other defenders. Kenneth quickly grabbed it and tossed it up for the winning lay up. "Yeah boy!" Keenan yelled jumping up in the air with excitement. "That's game!"

Kenneth walked over and gave his brother a high-five. "You know you're the taller one. You should have been the one that went in."

Keenan smiled. "Yeah, but you're so…" Keenan held out his arms mimicking a fat guy. "Um… Strong."

Kenneth smiled and pushed him teasingly. "Good choice of words." Kenneth wasn't fat, but wasn't as skinny as Keenan was. Keenan grew tall fast in the last three years. At twelve years old, he was clearly the tallest kid in his class at about 5'9". Still, not as tall or muscular as some of the other older players, but well enough to handle his game against them.

"Hey!" One of the players on the opposite team yelled. "What the hell was that? He pushed me!" It was the kid Kenneth had picked.

"It's called a pick. Hello?" Keenan said.

"It's called a foul, you ass! Do over." The large black kid said walking up to Keenan.

Keenan trash talked a lot, and more often than not, Kenneth had to bail him out. Kenneth held out his hand trying to avert the confrontation. "Relax, it's just a game. How about a rematch?"

"Naw! Screw that. Do over. You fouled me." The kid said now standing nose to nose with Kenneth. "And this time tell that skinny little bitch to sit out! He was hand checking me the whole game."

"What'd you say?" Kenneth said in a firm threatening tone.

The other kid hesitated for a second, but then came back. "You heard me nigga." He said standing face to face with Kenneth and pointing at Keenan. "Tell your bitch to sit this one out, or do you need to go home and cry to your mama?" The kid smiled. "She's at my place if you need her." He hardly finished his sentence before he was blown off of his feet by Kenneth's punch. The kid's friends immediately jumped off of the nearby picnic table which they were resting on and pounced on Kenneth. Keenan and their friends joined the fight and soon a giant brawl was taking place on the urban basketball court.

Curses were said, punches were exchanged, and bruises were a plenty. Kenneth got backed into a chain fence while two large kids started punching him. Keenan ran over and threw the basketball dead in one's face. "Booyah!" Keenan yelled. The kid fell down clutching his bleeding nose and started crying. Keenan helped Kenneth fight off the other one, before they were both pounced on by some other kids. The fight lasted for a few minutes before Kenneth and Keenan managed to fight off the two largest guys together. Keenan grabbed one of the kid's wallets and yanked some cash out of it. "It's payday bi'atch!" He said laughing as they ran off.

A few minutes later, Kenneth and Keenan were sitting at an ice cream stand a couple blocks away eating vanilla ice cream with bruises all over their faces and arms. A "just" reward for winning a decisive battle. "You shouldn't have taken his money." Kenneth said.

"They deserved it. They were all just jealous of our skills." Keenan said as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. It was getting darker out now and the two needed to head back to their foster parents.

"We should get back." Kenneth said finishing his ice cream.

"Why? They're not our parents. Besides, we don't need anyone but ourselves." He held out his ice cream attempting to make a point. "Look. We always take care of each other. And we always win."

"I might not be here some day. Who's going to take care of you then if not someone responsible?"

Keenan frowned. Kenneth was ruining his good feeling. "You sound like Rachel." Rachel was their foster mother. Kenneth just glared at him. Keenan looked at Kenneth realizing his seriousness, then nodded. "Oh, all right." He took another bite of his ice cream, and then mimicked a silly voice. "I'll be nice."

Kenneth smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on bro. Let's go home."

When they got home the police were waiting there. They questioned the boys and said that another kid claimed he was attacked and robbed by them both. Kenneth took the blame for starting it despite what Keenan said. Kenneth was taken away by the policemen to juvenile hall for two weeks. He tried to apologize to his foster parents when he returned, but it was no use. He was branded as a troublesome child and was sent away to military school for his senior year. Separated from his brother and many miles away, the two slowly drifted apart in different directions. The ordeal had changed Kenneth. Kenneth was drawn into the military, while Keenan began a life of crime. A year went by. He would write home, but Keenan began reading his letters less and less. Soon Kenneth was getting his mail returned to him unopened. Four more years passed by before they would see each other again. And neither brother would recognize the other.

May 10, 2004 – Milwaukee, Wisconsin

Keenan drove the 2001 Chevy Impala slowly down the neighborhood about an hour after he had escaped the hell that was once Fort Pastor. He cautiously looked around for any of the monsters that might be wandering around, but didn't see any. He drove down the road about half a mile before reaching Kenneth's house. He saw Kenneth's car there, but no police cruiser which worried him. Kenneth had been at work when everything went down. When Kenneth came busting in Keenan's apartment telling him to get dressed, they drove off in his police car. But Keenan had to know for sure. He parked the stolen car in the driveway and got out.

He quietly shut the car door and walked up to the front door. He tried to open it, but it was locked. He looked around, but saw nobody. The street was unusually quiet. Not that he would know what was usual in a nice neighborhood like this. He had spent most of his life in the city, or jail. He knocked on the door hoping only Kenneth, if anyone, was inside the house. But no one answered. He looked around again, then took a step back and tried ramming the door. But nothing happened. He's a police officer. I'm sure he knows how to lock a door from a break-in. He closed the outer screen door and walked around back. He got to the back sliding door which was thankfully out of view from the street. He found a rock and removed his jacket, wrapping it around the rock. Then he carefully broke the window to the kitchen that was next to the back door. The glass broke making more nose than he would have wanted. He climbed in and began looking around. Kenneth wasn't in the house obviously. But as a cop, he might have some weapons around that Keenan could use. Keenan looked around the different rooms, dining room, living room, both bathrooms, guest room, hallway closet, and kitchen. He checked all the places people usually hide things to keep safe. As a former burglar he was experienced in this.

When he was finished he looked around at what he had done. Coushins overturned, drawers emptied on the floor, closets ransacked. This was wrong. It felt like he was robbing his brother's home. In a way this was true, but given the current situation, he had no other choice. But wasn't this always what he used as an excuse to not feel guilty? I had no other choice. Now, standing among his brother's possessions scattered all over the place, he felt the sting of guilt. Depression overcame him as hope faded. Kenneth was gone. This was the end of the world. The chosen had been taken to heaven while the damned were left on earth to rot with nothing but the rubble of their doings. Keenan sat down, lost in what to do next.

"You're on your own now." Keenan remembered Kenneth saying once. "You're a strong kid. You always have been."

"You taught me that." Keenan said out loud, mimicking what he said all those years ago.

"Don't quit just because something doesn't quite work out the way you want it to. It takes hard work to achieve your goals, sacrifices as well. And you have to accept the fact that not everything will turn out the way you want it to. That's life. Believe me I know."

Keenan looked over to Kenneth. "But you'll be there in case something really bad happens right?" He said, again mimicking their old conversation.

"If not in person, then here…" Kenneth pointed to Keenan's head. "…and here." He then pointed to his heart.

Keenan looked down to where Kenneth was pointing, and then back up. Kenneth was gone. Keenan stood up with a renewed sense of purpose. "I should have listened to you a long time ago brother." He said to the empty room. "What a fool I've been."

He left the living room and headed for the final room. Normally, if no one was home he would have searched here first, but had been avoiding this room on purpose. He entered Kenneth's bedroom and the first place he looked he found what he wanted. A 9mm Tactical Smith & Wesson pistol with four 8-shot magazines. He pulled out the clip that was in the gun and checked to see if there was a round in the chamber. Then slapped it back in and stuck it in his pocket along with the extra clips. The weight of two guns and a few clips made his baggy pants droop down. He found a belt and buckled it tight around his skinny waist. As he finished he heard a loud bang come from the front door, then another. The sound made his heart skip a beat. Soon more bangs came from the front. He quietly walked to the guest bedroom which faced the front of the house and peeked out the curtains of the window. A small group of those monsters were banging on the front door. A couple more were lingering by the Impala.

"Shit." He said quietly.

Down the street he could see more walking slowly towards the house.

"Where the hell did they come from?" He whispered.

He quietly walked to the garage which was connected to the house. All that separated him from the undead was a flimsy garage door. But they were still banging at the front door. He quietly looked around for something else to use as a weapon. Hell, maybe even a machine gun. Kenneth used to be in the military before becoming a policeman. Then he found something even better. In the corner covered in an old tarp was something he thought wasn't possible. He removed the tarp and saw it. An early 90's Harley Davidson motorcycle. "Son of a bitch..." He said to himself. "He did keep it." He looked at the mileage. It showed over 200 miles. "Son of a bitch… He did drive it." Keenan had bought it for him saying it was a present for getting better after his injury in the Gulf. Kenneth soon found out it had been stolen and had not been bought legally like Keenan had said. Kenneth angrily told Keenan that he would turn it in and never ride it. But this was before the 'incident' that happened between them. Maybe Kenneth felt guilty and kept it anyway. In either case, it was here now and it might save Keenan's life.

The bike looked in good condition. Kenneth must have taken care of it. He quickly ran back into the house and looked for the keys which he found in Kenneth's bedroom on a key ring. He went back into the garage and situated the bike in the middle. There was one last place he could look for his brother. He had tried the phones, but they were dead. Either way, he had to leave. He started the bike revving it up to make the engine warm. It would have to be fast. He got off the bike and hit the garage door button. The door rose slowly. Luckily, the monsters weren't all crowded around it. Two immediately looked in his direction, Keenan gunned the throttle and the bike took off with amazing speed. He zoomed passed the two monsters by the Impala before they had a chance to attack him. He drove down the road, quickly putting distance between him and the house. He glanced in the side mirror to see them running inside Kenneth's garage.

Though the bike had saved his life there, it wasn't the safest of vehicles. He could easily be overwhelmed if he wasn't careful. He turned right heading for the main road out of the housing complex. Keenan would have gone there first, but Kenneth's house was much closer. Now he wished he would have gone to Vanessa's house first. She may have been Kenneth's ex-wife, but Kenneth still felt something for her. It was obviously true since he told Keenan to go with the others to Fort Pastor while he went back for her.

"I have to see if she's ok. I won't leave anyone else behind anymore…" Kenneth had said.

Keenan hoped he wasn't too late as he took a left down another street and headed for his next destination.

TO BE CONTINUED…