A/N: My eternal thanks to MarshalZhukov and Draco38! Marshal for being a great beta-reader, and draco for writing a damn fine HOTD story which you are ALL obligated to go read.
Running From the DEAD
By JSF16
Chapter Two
No one ever expects the world to end today. That's always an event set aside for tomorrow, or some other less-specific day. People talk about it, they prepare, they spend hundreds of dollars on MRE's and bottled water, and when it actually happens, they are completely unprepared.
Denya had trained for a long time. Papa was a very down-to-earth man and was hell-bent on not having his son being unable to protect himself. He'd taught Denya quite a few things, including several skills that Denya appreciated, but couldn't think of a time he'd really have to utilize these skills, a doubt he'd voiced to his father several times. Denya had no idea that on that day he would be eating those words, one bitter mouthful at a time.
It started off like any other day, just like all apocalyptic days should. Denya got up, ate breakfast, attended his morning classes, and had lunch. He talked with Takashi, traded arguments with Saya, and chatted some with Kohta. And then headed off for chemistry class. Just like another other lazy high school day.
Chemistry was interesting, or at least it should have been. Mikio-sensei was far from the most exciting teacher in the academy, and on this day he seemed like someone had just told him he was never going to have enough money to retire on and would be teaching surly high school brats for the rest of his days. In an ironic sense of fortune, that morbid future wouldn't stretch out for too much longer.
Denya was in a semi-focused state, drifting between dragging his pencil across his pad of paper in random squiggles and jotting down semi-comprehensible notes, in Russian of course. He'd be damned if any half-baked asshole was going to cheat off of him. He leaned back in his rickety wooden chair and sighed. He didn't want to be here today, he was just done. He'd woken up drowsy and now, with the hot sun shining through the windows and lazily calling out to him, he just wanted to go outside and relax. Read a book; watch a movie, anything besides listening to some old raven gab on about bases and acids.
He had a window seat, at least that was something notable. His gaze slowly drifted out towards the sun-baked ground below, half-closed. The heat rising off the pavement below made squiggles in the air, causing the image to warp as if reality was shaking apart. Stifling a yawn, Denya lazily scanned over what the school yard revealed to him. No one was out yet of course. Except, except for a single person.
A solitary shape walked around the corner, slowly ambling into Denya slice of view. Nothing unusual of course, this was a school and that was school grounds. But Denya couldn't help but stare at him, at the way he walked. It wasn't so much of a walk as it was a shuffle, or a stagger even. Denya cocked his head slightly at the odd sight. There was no pattern to his movements, just an almost random mix of jerky uncoordinated movements. His arms hung limply at his side, just dangling there like the muscles were gone.
Suddenly his head turned towards the school as if someone had called him. And then he began to shuffle for the academy entrance, much quicker now, as if with a purpose although his spasmic walking remained. Denya gave him a small frown as he vanished out of his range of vision, but then dismissed the thought; if he were to tell papa about half of the weird shit he'd seen Japanese do, he probably would have been laughed out the door.
But he couldn't dismiss the small, urging, nagging feeling on his mind right now. Some tiny part of him deep down that was urging him. That wasn't right! He tried to blow it off, to focus on the teacher, but to no avail. With a slightly annoyed sigh he turned to look back out the window. And his heart nearly stopped at what he saw.
More of them, more people like him. That same strange, staggering walk carried them across the open pavement and towards the academy entrance. Silently they moved, random and uncoordinated, but clearly with a purpose, a purpose that evaded Denya but sent a chill down his spine none the less. Five, six, nine, ten, fifteen, over twenty more of them came lurching around the brick and towards the entrance, crossing the open ground one-by-one until the last of them vanished from his sight, and into the school.
As the last one passed, Denya felt a feeling in his gut like a hammer striking home. For some inexplicable reason he felt that he was in a coffin, and that the final nail had just been hammered into place with a bang!
"Class dismissed. Remember that there is a test on Monday, so be sure to study over the weekend. Or cram it all in Sunday evening, whatever suits you best." Mikio-sensei dismissed them haggardly, like he could barely manage the thought of teaching yet another class before the day was over. The other students were relieved, and packed up their books and stuffed their backpacks in a hurry. Denya moved quickly too, shoving binders and textbooks away. He had an sick feeling in his gut that screamed something bad was about to happen, and Denya didn't like to doubt his gut. He packed up and moved out of the class and quick as he could, an urgency building up in him to get out of the class and somewhere safer.
Where? Where should I go? What's the danger? His gut refused to answer, but the feeling remained. Maybe Denya could skip this class, claim he felt sick or something. The other students brushed past, chatting animatedly, like nothing in the word was wrong.
Denya pushed through them, picking up his pace. His dorm, he had to get to his dorm. He would be safe there, safe from whatever was about to happen. The voice in his head got louder; the gnawing in his gut became more and more pronounced. Denya pushed a student aside, rounded the corner in a hurry. And then it happened.
A scream rang out from down the hall, bringing all conversation to a standstill as everyone turned their heads to see what was going on. Another horrified scream rent the air, then another, and another. A gaggle of panic-crazed students stumbled around the corner, terror lighting their eyes.
"Outta the way, outta the way!" A boy yelped as he plunged into the crowd, shoving and pushing surprised students out of the way. Another one tore past Denya, then two more. A girl charged past with something red and sticky soaking her shoulder. Is that blood? Denya questioned. He held out his arms in front of the fleeing kids, trying to slow them down.
"Whoa there, hold up! What the hell's going on?" No one stopped, they just shoved him back into the rest of the stunned students gathered. Slightly annoyed now, Denya reached forward and plucked one of the running kids off his feet by his collar. Swinging him around, he held him good and tight by his shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. "Listen, calm down man. Now tell me, what the hell is going on? What's got everyone freaked out?" He said slowly and calmly, hiding the growing fear in himself.
The student, who could have only been fifteen, stared at him like he was possessed. His eyeballs swung around in his skull desperately, searching for a way out. Panicked, he locked eyes with Denya's stern blue gaze again and pointed down the hall in terror.
"Th-th-them! They're insane man, out of their fucking minds! They just walked in and started, the-they-oh fuck, run for it man!" With a sudden new surge of strength, the boy wrestled out of Denya's grip and bolted off down the hall. Denya turned to see what he was pointing at just as They burst around the corner.
It was Them, the people he'd seen outside. Students by the look of it, although he recognized a few teachers among them. Stumbling around the corner, arms outstretched as if for balance. The students let out a collective gasp as They righted themselves around to face the students. At the sight of them, They let out a deep, gasping moan and lurched forward simultaneously.
Denya finally got a good look at them, and he quickly began to see what was wrong with them. Their faces were pale, much paler than they should have been. Their mouths hung slack in an eternally hungry gape. Their arms, contrary to before, where stretched out in front of them, reaching, groping, yearning for something, or someone.
But what really struck Denya were two things. The first was the ragged bloody wound in each of them, mostly on their arms or neck. Ripped and torn, almost like a bite of some kind. But Denya couldn't think of any animal with a bite like that. And then there were their eyes. Lifelessly, purely lifeless. No spark, no light dwelled in them. Just empty darkness, the empty darkness of a corpse. Denya took a reflexive step back along with the others, a mixture of a horror and curiosity on their faces.
"Tomitake-san, what the fuck are you doing man?" A student stepped forward, an annoyed look etched on his face. "Are you out of your fucking mind? They're gonna suspend your ass for this man, pulling this kind of bullshit." He stepped forward to one of Them and roughly grabbed his arm. Denya wanted to call out to him, wanted to warn him, but it was too late.
Before anyone could do a thing, Tomitake, or what was Tomitake, grabbed his friend's arm, pulled it into his open mouth, and sank his teeth into it. There was a moment of shocked silence, and then an agonized scream pierced the air as the student clutched his wounded arm and pulled back. But it had a strong grip; it pulled the student in towards his open jaws as the others swarmed in. He screamed and tried to pull away, but now more arms were grabbing for him, wrapping around arms and taking handfuls of clothing. They pulled him in and without a moment's hesitation began to take great bites out of his flesh, ignoring his flailing and shrieking.
The trance was broken; students let out horrified screams and began to run, stampeding down towards the opposite end of the hall. The sound seemed to attract the creatures, for they immediately let out a collective moan and rose to pursue in their shambling way. Denya felt numb, and failed to move. That is, until one of the things reached forward and grabbed his shoulder.
Panic drove Denya into action. Reflexively he grabbed the arm in a strong grasp and wrenched the wrist wickedly. He heard the bones crack like firewood, and he pulled back and followed up with a solid side-kick directly into its ribs. He heard them snap, heard them break like sticks. But it didn't stop; it just raised its damaged hand up at him again, a deathly moan straining from the back of its throat.
Fear gripped Denya, he leaped back, staring at the thing. That should have stopped anyone. Another one, no, two more were moving for him, arms reaching out, jaws open in greedy anticipation.
"Shit." Terror jolted him into movement; he ducked under the groping arms and swept their legs from under them with his leg. They fell, and Denya turned and bolted down the hall, throwing his backpack aside.
Students were in a panic, clogging the halls and swarming into classrooms for safety. They didn't know or care what they were doing; they were acting out of panic terror. And as more of Them seemed to be staggering up every flight of stairs in the building, they only broke down into greater chaos. Some students stepped over the younger ones, trampling them as they fled for the windows and tried to climb out, only to get shoved by people behind them and falling to their deaths three stories below.
Denya ignored them; he was running for his dorm. He had to get there; there he would be able to help himself. He needed to protect himself and his friends, if they were alive. His mind-set on an objective, he scanned for danger, averting delays as much as he could. He was not Denya Mikhailovitch Kondrashin the student now; he was Denya Mikhailovitch Kondrashin the soldier, son of Senior Sergeant Mikhail Petrovitch Kondrashin. He was a soldier, a warrior. He was on his mission. Even then his father's final words to him played through his head. Stay strong Denya, the job is yours now. Protect yourself, protect those you love. Protect them until death, because that is the mark of a true man. Fight hard and fight well my son. Be wise, be strong, be safe.
Denya spun into the dorm and slammed the door shut. Clicking the lock into place, he quickly surveyed his room. No one else was there, his roommate Akasaka would have been in physics right now, on the other end of the academy. Denya hoped he was safe, and then moved over to his bed.
Reaching into the pillow case, Denya fished around inside for a moment before coming across something hard and rough. Wrapping his hands around the handle, he pulled the whole object out from its hiding place and, without a moment's hesitation, slid the loop on the sheath onto his belt.
"So Denya-san? What do you think?"
"Uh, well, can you tell me what it is?"
"This my friend, is a Ghurkha kukri made by Cold Steel, the world's finest producer of cutting-edge cutlery. And that blade you see before you is one of the most, if not the most, effective blade in existence for chopping and hacking." Kohta explained happily, leaving Denya observing the odd-looking weapon in his hands. It had a one-handed handle made of some very tough and gripp-y material, perfect size for his hand.
Coming out of the handle was the oddest-looking machete blade Denya had ever seen, a foot-long downwards curving shape swooping down, expanding in thickness near the end before narrowing out to the point. All-in-all it looked a lot like a boomerang with an edge of the inside, a damn sharp edge Denya noted as he slid his finger across it. "Well, it's certainly a damn cool looking blade, and its looks well-made. Thanks Kohta-san." Denya looked up at his friend, an uneasy look in his eyes. "But why did you get me it?" Kohta rolled his eyes and grinned.
"Well, I saw it on Cold Steel's online catalogue and I asked myself 'Who would this look absolutely badass on?' and I thought of you. Like it?" Denya nodded slowly.
"Of course I like it, but, uh, what do I do with it? I mean this looks like it's made for cutting off heads and arms, or trees. And I don't think there's any place 'round here to play the Russian lumberjack." He gave Kohta a warning look. "And I don't care how much of assholes the kids here are, I am not going down in history as the Fujimi Academy killer." Fortunately, this only brought a laugh out of Kohta.
"Don't be stupid, if we were going to lay down the law like that I'd have gotcha a Smith and Wesson!" He laughed again and pointed at the blade. "But seriously Denya-san, do guys even need a reason to own a badass blade like that? We're guys dude; it's our calling in life! Girls buy shoes and clothes, we buy guns and knives. Do we need them? Hell no, but its damn fun!" He gave Denya wink. "Besides, who knows when you might need it, better ready for that day then not huh?"
Denya had used it maybe twice, one to cut a pomegranate and one to slice a particularly disturbing manga in half. Oh if only Kohta could see him now. Shit, Kohta. The thought of his friend's danger brought Denya to life, he made sure the kukri was secure on his belt, and then he reached down to get one more thing, one very important thing.
Laying down flat on his back, he slid under his bed and padded down the bottom boards. Ah, here it is. Knocking one of them, he heard the odd thunk sound it made. Then with a much more powerful bash of the fist, the panel dropped completely. Denya grabbed it off his chest and squirmed back out from under his bed.
Standing up he took the thick panel and gave it one good shake over his bed. With a muffled thud, its contents hit his comforter. Hands shaking, Denya reached down and scooped up his most precious item.
Still as shiny as the day papa had given it to him all that time ago in this very room before he left for Russia. The Tokarev TT-30 was everything his father was: stocky, simple, deadly, efficient. Next to it lying where they'd fallen were six clips of ammunition, each containing seven rounds. Hiding the weapon had been one of Denya's more challenging problems, but he'd managed to keep it hidden until he hollowed out the panel. With trembling hands, he picked it up.
"But Papa, why do I need your old service pistol?"
"Because my son, you must protect yourself. Listen my boy, this world has changed. Men will do anything for the paper in your pocket; they will peel you apart along with everything and everyone you hold dear if they can just get some satisfaction. I have done all in my power to protect you, but I can do no further. It's up to you now my son; I've done all I can to ready you for the battles you will face, now I equip you for them. Stay strong Denya, the job is yours now. Protect yourself, protect those you love. Protect them until death, because that is the mark of a true man. Fight hard and fight well my son."
With liquid smoothness, Denya grabbed a clip from the bed. He slid it into the butt with a firm click. Pulling the slide back, he let it snap forward, chambering a round. With a final click he thumbed the safety off and scooped up the rest of the ammunition and put it in his pocket.
As he approached the shut door to the evil outside, kukri in his right hand and tokarev in his left, his papa's final words echoed through his head.
"Be wise, be strong, be safe." Denya fingers brushed the gleaming doorknob, then wrapped around it firmly. Then, with a final exhale, Denya shoved the door open and took off down the hall to find his friends.
Takashi's mind was boiling, a hundred different emotions overflowing and mixing with each other. Anger, terror, and grief all mixed into one writhing mess. Part of him was still struggling to take in all in. The dead were stalking the earth, ripping apart anyone in their path. The school was in complete chaos, students screaming and running for their lives, only to fall right into Their grasp.
Hisashi's dead. You killed Hisashi. His former friend's face was still burned into his mind; the tortured look on his face as he fought desperately to keep his humanity, the pleading of his final words as a human. Then the hammer hitting home in his mind, the final blow that struck the nail of realization home as Hisashi vanished, leaving behind a slavering beast. He remembered so clearly the adrenaline surge, the solemn acceptance of what he had to do. Rei turned away as the bat swung, she didn't watch as the boy she had loved was put down like an animal.
But this was all playing off at the far reaches of Takashi's mind, just in the corner of his mental image. It was there, all the pain and terror. But he couldn't let it bother him now, he had to protect Rei and himself, they had to get out of there.
The feet clomped noisily on the floor as they ventured down the empty halls. The emptiness of the halls sent a chill down Takashi's spine, the thick silence was almost ghoulish and unnatural. Normally the halls should have been flooded with students, chatting, getting a drink, moving from class to class, or just hanging out. Now all that remained to show there'd ever been life there was scattered textbooks and backpacks spilled across the hall, dropped by their owners when they ran from Them.
Here and there, there were blood smears and blotches painting the floors and walls, grim symbols of what terror had fallen on the school. Takashi gripped his bat tighter, the rough metal texture giving him a small amount of strength.
"Where are we going?" Rei broke the silence. Takashi had been thinking off a plan to escape, and he'd formed a rough idea in his mind.
"We get to the parking lot and get a car. Providing traffic's not too backed up, we'll try and get in touch with your parents. Your dad will probably have a good idea where to go, a police checkpoint of refuge or something. If it's too crowded on the roads we'll stay as close to the road as possible and go on foot." Even as he spoke Takashi felt doubt in his words. Is this a local disaster? Or is this happening all over the city? From the fragmented sounds they'd heard over Rei's phone, the situation didn't sound good outside.
A low, guttural moan brought them both to a stop, reminding Takashi that the situation inside wasn't looking up either. Raising the bat, Takashi bent closer to Rei and whispered, "I think it's around the corner, we both go wide around on three, okay?" Rei didn't say anything, just nodded firmly. Takashi couldn't help but feel a surge of pride for her, at how quickly she adapted to the situation. That's my girl. He thought warmly before going back to the job at hand. Holding up three fingers, he counted down, tensing up as he did.
Three, two, one, now! Takashi leaped wide around the corner, bat held high. Rei was behind him, holding her makeshift spear.
A single one of Them turned around at the commotion, eyeing them with lifeless eyes. A fresh moan rose in its throat and it stretched out ghoulish hands forth as it made for them with a sudden lunge.
Rei moved first, jabbing forward with her spear and imbedding the tip in the monsters abdomen, stopping it dead in its tracks. Takashi moved simultaneously, dodging around its groping arms and coming up behind it. Bat held high, he took aim and swung it right into the back of its skull with a resounding crack! "Bite it fucker." He said.
The creature stopped moving and whining as it skull caved in under the heavy impact. Lifeless, it slumped forward further up Rei's spear, who pulled it out with distaste. Then stepping forward she shoved the tip down into it smashed head, just for good measure. Breathing moderately, she looked up at a panting Takashi and cracked a thin smile.
'"Bite it fucker?' What the hell does that mean?" Takashi stood up and shouldered the bat, returning the grin.
"Dunno, but it felt right to say. We pressing on?"
"After you." Rei motioned him forward. As Takashi stepped over the corpse and down the hall, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he found himself looking out the window and across the outside air into the floor below and ahead of them. Another student, but he wasn't running or panicking like the others.
Instead he looked quite in control of himself, a perpetual ready stance soaked into his every footstep, his head constantly swivelling around. Takashi frowned, he recognized that dirty blonde hair, but the face was so hard to make out from this angle. "Takashi? What is it?" Rei asked. Takashi pointed at the figure walking perhaps fifty yards away.
"There, through the window on the floor beneath us, see? Who is that, I can't get a good look at his face." The tall frame, the loose hair, the school uniform, it's all so familiar, but I can't seem to place it-wait a second. The students head swivelled again, this time giving them a full view of his face. Rei let out a small gasp when she picked up his identity.
"It's Kondrashin-san, and he's still alive!" Takashi nodded, and for some reason he wasn't really surprised. Denya had always been calm and level-headed; it almost seemed natural for him to survive any sort of disaster. He was also holding something in his hand, something small that Takashi couldn't quite make out. Denya suddenly snapped his head up and looked around. He must have seen some of Them, for he quickly increased his pace down the hall, rounding a corner out of sight. Takashi and Rei stood there for a while, staring at where he'd vanished. "Should we go get him?" Rei asked.
Takashi frowned. Should we? We're not great friends or anything, but it seems like the right thing to do. Takashi looked at Rei uneasily, then back at where Denya had gone. Should we? "Takashi?" Rei interrupted. He looked back at her.
"Yeah, let's go get 'im." It looks like he'd heading for the faculty room, where they keep the keys for the vehicles. If we head down a level and go left we'll probably catch up to him."
"Sounds like a plan then, let's go." Rei hefted her spear and moved ahead towards the staircase, keeping her eyes out for any more of Them as she went. Takashi followed up behind, bat at the ready.
Cutting off the first of Their heads was easier than Denya had expected. Perhaps the disease, or plague, whatever the hell it was, made their bone structure weaker. Or perhaps the kukri was just a damn good blade. Whatever the reason, Denya was almost surprised at how little resistance there was.
He swung inwards and flicked his wrist at the last moment, catching its neck in the inward curve of the blade. With the familiar sound of steel going through meat, its head flew off with a fleshy noise and hit the ground softly. Headless, the corps stood dumb for a moment, then fell too, blood spilling from the stump and pooling around it on the floor.
Aren't I supposed to feel something? Denya held the kukri in slightly shaky hands, watching his handiwork bleed before him. It wasn't the bloodiest or goriest thing he'd ever seen, not by a long shot. He was a farmboy after all; he'd killed and butchered enough chickens, pigs, cows, and other cute, lovable animals to become the number one antagonist of any Disney movie.
But shouldn't I feel something? I just cut off the head of someone, or what was someone, without hesitation. Wasn't he supposed to feel something? Where was the horror, the disgust, the sheer revoltingness of the situation that was supposed to remind him he was human? His hands were shaking, but that wasn't surprising considering what was going on. He was breathing heavily, but again that was nothing notable.
Is there something wrong with me? That I can just do this and not feel anything? Denya trembled at the thought that he might be completely numb to taking human life. No, stop it. They're not people anymore, they just look like them. Now shut up, man up, and do your job. He rebuked himself, shaking his head clear of those thoughts. This is a job, they are the targets. Find Kohta, get out of here, and eliminate any hostiles that impede the mission's progress. Denya's head cleared, his emotions were shoved down beneath the cold military logic that entered his mind. You are trained for this, prepared for this. Now do it. That wasn't the last one you will have to end, so belt up Kondrashin.
A ghost of a smile crossed Denya's face; papa was still there egging him on, even all these thousands of miles away. And I'm not one to cross papa. Hefting the kukri, Denya stepped over the thing on the ground and pressed on, he had work to do.
A stock, yes, I need a stock. Now what do I need to do? They were slamming at the door, moaning like the damned, not an inaccurate comparison actually.
"Hirano-san! Stop dicking around and get something done!" Kohta didn't answer, he was too busy getting something done. Ah yes, wooden boards and padding, perfect! Now where's a saw, there it is! A possessed grin filling his mind and face, Kohta sawed through wooden boards to a more suitable length. "Hirano…" Saya was actually sounding worried now, an odd thing to hear from her.
Padding in-between the wooden boards for a butt, now duct tape it all horizontally along the firearm, attach a sufficient sight and lock 'n' load. "Hirano!" Kohta's attention was drawn to Saya's horrified scream as They broke down the door with a crash and poured inside. He lifted the modified nail gun and braced the newly-built stock against his shoulder. Headshots only, targets are within effective range. Weapons free.
Pop! The first nail hissed from the gun and imbedded itself in the nearest creatures head with smooth efficiency. Target down. Kohta thought in triumph as it sank to the floor in expiration. Pop, pop, pop! Three more nails, three more of Them fell with nails protruding from their skulls.
Targets down, anymore coming? Kohta held position and waited for a moment, but no more came through. A fierce grin lit his face as an energy he'd never felt before coursed through his veins. He felt strong, powerful, alive.
"Takagi-san, see those extra nails and power drill? Toss 'em in a bag and bring them along." Saya looked incredulously at Kohta, and then erupted.
"What? You're nobody, who are you to order me around?" But her fire died when she saw Kohta, to be more exact, the maddened grin on Kohta's face. Of course until he destroyed it.
"Pretty please with sugar on top?" He said almost childishly.
She's so pretty when she gets angry. Kohta thought happily. And in that moment, he couldn't really find anything wrong with this situation. He felt like he fitted in, like this was his calling in life. Armed with a jury-rigged gun against a dangerous horde with a beautiful girl at his side. Was life really so bad? Oh, I hope Denya's fine. A moment of worry crossed his mind, but he soon blocked it out. Who am I kidding, if a fat otaku like me can survive, then that boy will do fine. Damn I hope I see him again.
"Come on Hirano-san, let's move it before more of those things arrive." Saya said coldly, tossing him the bag of supplies and heading out the door. Kohta snatched it up and pocketed two extra magazines of nails.
"Coming Takagai-san." Kohta leveled his newfound gun and moved up behind her, strangely content for the first time in quite a while.
There were more methods to eliminating the threat of Them asides from decapitation. This was obvious of course and handy when the act of taking the head off was not an option. The primary threat is the bite; the secondary threat is their grasp. Remove the secondary threat and the primary threat will greatly be reduced in efficiency. That is how a soldier operates, and that was how Denya operated. Analyze the threat, deduce the most effective form of combat, and then act upon that knowledge.
Denya jumped back from the clumsy lunge of another one of Them, bringing the kukri down on its outstretched arm as he did. There was no resistance, the dead limb came off at the wrist and flopped to the floor, spilling blood.
The undead took no notice of this injury and pressed forward, making another grab for the Russian who ducked under and drove the wide tip of his blade into the thigh. Spinning around behind the thing, Denya took a step back and watched his handiwork as the corpse, unable to support its weight, collapsed to the ground. Denya grinned as he took a step forward.
"Quite the sorry little mudak aren't you? Well it's nothing personal mind you, although I doubt you can care about my motive." Raising the kukri, Denya gave it the little kick with his foot. "Okay, I lied, it is a bit personal. You stink like fucking hell." He stabbed down, piercing the skull through. At once it stopped moaning and the body accepted a death long-since pursuing it.
I wonder if it's healthy to talk to things before you kill them. Denya pondered. Am I going crazy? Papa never talked about PTSD, maybe this is the beginning symptoms? He shook his head mirthfully. Who cares, I'd rather be laughing my way into the madhouse then sobbing in a corner. When Denya had asked papa how you killed someone, he stared at him and answered plainly.
"You don't kill anyone. You put down an animal, you eliminate a threat, you drop a target. The moment you start thinking of them as people you are done. Call them fascists, call them dogs, call them anything but 'him' or 'her.' It's only 'it' or 'they' or 'them.' Make them as un-human as you can, for no one can kill a person and retain their sanity."
Denya followed this advice as best he could. And it helped that they didn't scream, cry or show any emotion. They were just cardboard cut outs, cheap mockeries of life and nothing more. He was doing the living world a favor by getting rid of these gross crimes against nature. And if he was doing such a good service, why not make this as pleasant as possible?
Two more ahead were lumbering towards him, arms reaching out. I wonder how they see anyway, is it vibration? Sound? Smell? I wonder if they can still see. Denya walked towards them, noting as they changed course to follow him. Raising the kukri, he hacked off the nearest arm of the first one, and then brought it back up for a conclusive stab through the eye. Does the origin of this reside in the brain? Is this a parasite or some sort of a virus? As it collapsed, Denya side-stepped the lunge of the second one and swung the blade around him and into its neck.
Through its neck actually, the abomination dropped to the ground while its head rolled away, leaking blood. Not as much blood as I would expect from cutting someone's head off, I guess there must be no circulation. But without blood-flow, how does the brain still send commands?
His thoughts were cut off by the moaning of more of them as another dozen spilled into the hall behind him. He turned and gave them a look like they'd just broken into his dorm. "You know, you bastards are really damn consistent. One would think being dead would make you slow the fuck down, but you're probably doing more activity than when you bastards were alive!" He shook his head and turned around to run down the hall. "Poka, assholes." Then he took off running down the hall. Objective one: Get Kohta. Objective two: Get to the faculty room, grab keys for a vehicle. Objective three: Get the hell out of here.
He rounded the corner, went through a door and shut it behind him. Turning around he found himself three feet from six more of Them blocking the hallway, and very interested in what had just caused such a commotion. "Chyort voz'mi." He muttered under his breath.
No time to think, just to react. The first one of them grabbed at him, a hungry moan escaping its throat. Grabbing its right arm, Denya yanked it forward and drove the kukri into its skull. Its moaning stopped and Denya shoved it back into the advancing group. Two of them fell under their comrade while the other three came at him at once.
But now Denya had an opening, he dashed forward and leaped over the fallen ones to his left, cutting down another as he went. And then he felt the iron grip of one of them snatching his foot out of the air, and bringing him crashing to the ground with a yell. "Shit!" He hit the ground hard, almost knocking the air out his lungs, and sending the kukri clattering out of his grip down the hall.
He reached forward, fingertips straining for the black matte handle. But he felt the inexorable pull of it pulling him away, back towards its mouth. A moment of panic split him; he screamed and kicked out as hard as he could. His foot collided with its mouth, smashing teeth and cracking bone.
Twisting himself around onto his back, he saw his foot just inches from the shattered bleeding mouth of the thing. Even worse, he saw the other ones staggering for him, mouths wide open and arms outstretched, eager to sink their rancid teeth into his flesh. Shit, the tokarev! He remembered the pistol and desperately reached for his pocket.
But it was too late, they were on him. As their cold dead arms reached down for him, as their rotten dead breath wafted over his face, he threw back his head and screamed as the horror of being eaten alive hit him. "Fucking hell, get the fuck away! Back the fuck off mudak! Help!"
Whack! Crack! Warm stinking corpses piled onto him, blotting out his vision and engulfing his smell, he screamed, barely noticing the grip on his ankle vanishing.
"Keep calm, I will free you in a moment." A muffled voice said from above. Denya began to get a grip, his blood pounding in his ears like a drum. He suddenly realized that he was covered by two bodies, two dead bodies. His terror spiked again.
"Get them off, get them the fuck off!" He went into a frenzy, shoving the limp corpses off with a sudden rush of berserker strength. Scrambling to his feet, he backed into wall and fell against it, panting heavily as he took the scene in.
They were dead in front of him, skulls crushed by some sort of blunt force. And the wielder of that force stood before him, a wooden kendo bohken held professionally in her hands. Dressed in the Fujimi Academy uniform, she looked quite accepting of her situation. She eyed Denya with a clear-cut sense of duty and concern.
"Are you well? Have you been bitten?" Her icy blue eyes searched him for any sign of a damning bite. Denya took a deep breath and stood up to address her properly.
"Nyet, I am fine, and I'm very glad to came along when you did, thank you." He bowed his head to her, then reached down to retrieve his kukri, then stood up to face her. "Forgive me, we have not been properly introduced." He bowed again, "I am Denya Mikhailovitch Kondrashin, I was a transfer student to the academy from Russia." She nodded and bowed in turn.
"Well-met Kondrashin-san, I am Saeko Busujima, captain of the women's kendo club."
"I-is it safe now?" A new face from around the corner turned Denya's head, but Saeko reminded impassive.
"Yes, they are all finished." Saeko said, and from around the corner stepped Shizuka Marikawa, the school nurse. She had her ever-confused look glazed across her face, although it seemed even more pronounced than ever. She eyed Saeko's handiwork with the curious, although slightly disturbed, expression.
"Oh my, are you quite sure they are dead?" She asked.
"Positive, Shizuka-sensei." Saeko said as Shizuka noticed Denya.
"Oh, I remember you. You were the one to report that dreadful fight in the washroom awhile ago." She smiled sweetly. "Such a kind boy." Denya didn't bother to think about the irony in that statement, instead turning to Saeko.
"I take it you are heading for the faculty room as well?" Saeko nodded.
"Indeed we are, thankfully we heard your screams and came to help. Not a moment too soon either." Denya smiled wryly.
"Da, your timing was most appropriate." He motioned to her sword. "Kendo eh? I guess that class turned out to be more useful than you could have imagined." She smiled in return.
"Yes, and I take it your contraband is likewise serving a higher purpose than was intended." She nodded to the Tokarev stuffed in his pocket.
"Da, you could say that." Denya grinned, and then looked back down the way he'd came. "There are more behind me, we should move out at once."
"Indeed, let's. You take the right, I'll take left." Saeko said and moved down the hall, Denya falling to her side. Only Shizuka seemed hesitant, eyeing Denya's pistol nervously.
"Wh-why do you have gun Kondrashin-kun?" Denya rolled his eyes, but Saeko spoke before he could. "Why does not matter Shizuka-sensei, let us just be glad he has it." Shizuka opened her mouth like she was about to say more, but thought otherwise and clammed up instead. Falling in behind them, she tried to keep up as they moved through the halls of the dead.
Saya could scream remarkably loud when she wanted to. Denya, Saeko and Shizuka nearly jumped out of their skins at the horrified shriek.
"That way." Saeko pointed out before charging down the hall, wooden practise sword raised high. Denya followed right behind her, kukri ready to swing. A grin spread over Denya's face as the rush of adrenaline hit him and the excitement of a fight filled his mind.
"Ya Spetznaz!" He yelled, before bringing the kukri down on the nearest one of them, sending the head whirling off with a spurt of blood. Wheeling around the corner, Shizuka timidly blundering after them, they saw Them, over a dozen. In the center of the small trophy room was Kohta, wielding what looked like a nail gun, and Saya, holding a bag and looking quite nervous.
Denya almost didn't recognize Kohta, gone was the usual timid-ness and fear. He had a grim look on his face as he dropped two more of them with quiet puffs from the nail gun.
"The magazines nearly out, Takagi-san, pass me another one!" He yelled, but Saya wasn't listening. She was backed up against the trophy wall, wide-eyed and quivering in fear as one of them stalked towards her, moaning for her meat.
"Ge-ge-get back! Get away from me you sick unnatural freak!" She screamed at it, frantically throwing trophies at from the wall behind her in a useless attempt to stop it
"Takagi-san!" Kohta yelled, but he was too busy with a group of Them.
"Busujima-san, get Takagi-san!" Denya said, but Saeko was already beating and crushing a path through the undead towards her. Denya followed suit, slashing and hacking towards Saya. But even as he ducked under one of Their arms and plunged his blade through its skull, he could see it was already on Saya. Saeko was too far away, and cold fear hit his veins as it reached out its hands to grab her.
But her screaming and the moans of the undead were drowned out under the sudden roaring of a power drill. Chancing a look between blows, Denya saw Takagi, eyes wide-open and hands held in front of her, shoving the shrieking drill bit into its face, sending a shower of blood flying all over her.
More yells, more shouts as more bodies filled the room. Denya barely noticed and later would scarcely remember anything from the fight. His world was consumed by the battle, the movements of his body and those of his opponents filled his mind as a mixture of training and instinct took over him, sending him plowing through Them.
Through it all he caught flashes, glimpses. Kohta, yelling as he desperately reached for another magazine. Saya, face frozen in horror as she held the drill in shaking hands. Saeko, striking them down with the elegance of a dancer, her face calm and concentrated as she put her art to work. Takashi swinging a bat, crushing their skulls in unison with Rei, swinging a homemade spear.
It could have lasted hours for all Denya knew, but in reality it was only minutes. Denya suddenly found himself standing in the midst of dead bodies, blood slicking the floor and smearing the walls. He was breathing hard, trembling as the adrenaline began to exit his system. Blood dripped from his kukri, the drops hitting the floor being the only other sound other than their collective breathing.
The battle was over, Denya lowered his blade and looked around. Saeko grimly observing her handiwork. Kohta still had his nail gun shouldered, a fiery light burning in his eyes that Denya had never seen before. Saya was still up against the wall, trying to control herself and not break down completely. Takashi had an arm around Rei while they took in the death around them. He heard Saeko introducing herself to the others as he looked over to Kohta.
"Kohta-san, you alright my friend?" Denya said. Kohta looked up at him and a look of relief spread across his face.
"Hey, I knew you'd be alright!" He noted the blade in Denya's hand and smirked. "Guess you found a use for my gift after all huh?"
"Da, it's come in handy." Denya said, and then looked over at Saya. "Takagi-san, are you alright?" Saya didn't say anything; she was still staring at the body in front of her, trying to control herself.
"Kondrashin-san? How'd you survive?" Takashi spoke up, shouldering his bat. Denya shrugged.
"I just ran and killed whatever got in the way."
"I see. May I ask you something though?"
"Sure."
"Where'd you get the knife?" Denya smiled at Takashi's question and jerked his head towards Kohta.
"You can thank Kohta-san for that, and for being such an otaku in general. All those hours watching the Military Channel is about to pay off I suspect." Kohta in question was rooting through the bag, looking for extra nails, and paused only long enough to flash them a wicked grin.
"Damn right." He said before going back to the bag, grin widening as he pulled out a fresh magazine of nails and fed them into the gun. Denya turned back to Takashi and Rei.
"What do you know of the rest of the school, is it this bad everywhere?" He said. Takashi gave him a grim look.
"From what I've seen it's like this everywhere. Rei managed to call her dad, only for a few seconds, but it sounded pretty chaotic throughout the city." Takashi said, causing Rei to move closer to him at the mention of her dad. Denya shook his head.
"Well, shit. Now what?" He wandered over to the window, looking out at the scene beneath him. It was spring, the plants were in full blossom and creamy pink petals were everywhere. As were more of Them, dozens of them. They staggered all across the pavement randomly, and Denya couldn't imagine anyone sneaking past –or through- them.
How do we get to the vehicles? There's too many of them for seven people armed with bats and knives to get through. How are we even to know if there are any keys left, maybe the others got to them all first. And didn't make it. His thoughts were suddenly and abruptly interrupted by Saya suddenly leaping into a screaming rage.
Denya whirled around, startled at the sudden outburst, and proceeded to watch as Saya Takagi nearly suffered a mental breakdown as all. She erupted over how Kohta addressed Rei, but her anger soon gave way to tears and shaking horror. And as Takashi did his best to console her, Denya could not help but feel disdain for the weeping Saya. It's only some blood, get over it! Evidently it showed, for a hand soon alighted on his shoulder.
"This is not the first time you've seen blood I take it." Saeko's calm voice came from behind him. He turned around to face the purple-haired girl and nodded.
"You are correct."
"Then remember that this is her first, and a very traumatic first at that. You can't blame her for nearly breaking down when her classmates begin to devour each other. I'm surprised she's made it this far." She said, but Denya frowned at her logic.
"What about yourself? Or Komuro-san and Miyamoto-san? I doubt you've ever experienced anything near this before." Saeko only gave him a light smile and turned back to watch the spectacle, arms folded.
"You may be surprised at what I've seen. Miyamoto and I have both done extensive fighting sports for much of our lives, so the adjustment is not as drastic. As for Komuro-san, well, men seem to be better at handling this kind of things."
"Perhaps." Was all Denya said.
They had all finally assembled in the faculty room, and every one of them was transfixed on the television as reports of the world's condition flooded in. Denya felt a pang of bitterness at the report that contact had been lost with Moscow, but the news regarding their more immediate situation worried him far more.
Then the TV crackled, fizzled, and then the connection died completely. Takashi slammed his fist down on the desk angrily.
"Damnit! Why didn't they tell us more?"
"To prevent a panic." Saya said simply. Denya snorted at that.
"I think it's a bit late for that." He said. Saya whirled around at him, furious at having been corrected.
"Telling the nation on TV that we're fucked isn't going to help either!" She hissed out an exasperated sigh, rubbing her hand down her face. "Bakas, listen! Panic turns to chaos, chaos leads to a disruption of order. And if that happens, well, why don't we just hand it all over to the walking corpses?"
Rei was still trying to be hopeful.
"But, this isn't permanent right? I mean the world's got to get back to normal sometime right? The government's got to have this in hand after all." Saya just shook her head grimly.
"Sorry, but that's not going to happen anytime soon." She said, annoying Takashi who asked why she had to be so blunt about it all. As they talked, Denya thought.
So, it's everywhere. The whole world. In less time that in takes to go to school, the entire world has completely gone to hell in a hand basket. It's George Romero's fantasy out there and we're stuck in the middle of a city of four million people. Shit.
Saya continued lecturing everyone, comparing it to the Spanish flu epidemic, except that since the infected corpses were reanimated, it didn't have any good reason to ever die out. And the full seriousness of everything hit Denya, and everyone else judging by their faces. This might be the end of the world. Denya suddenly felt alone despite the room full of people. A chill ran through him as fear spiked through his body. We might not be getting out of this alive.
"Kondrashin-san? You haven't said much, what's your plan?" Denya looked up at Saeko's voice, and shrugged.
"I'm going wherever you're going. It's not like I have a home to go to, or parents to find." He cracked a wry smile. "And the whole 'I am Legend' thing doesn't sit too well with me, I'd rather not go out into the city of the dead by myself." He slipped off the countertop and wandered over to Takashi. "You going to find your parents? I'll go with you. Now, shall we leave?" With a flourish, Denya slipped out his pistol and pulled back the hammer. Immediately Kohta's mouth dropped wide open.
"Tha-that's a Tokarev TT30! Where did you get that, do you have ammo for it? Can I have one?" Denya smiled, not even a zombie apocalypse could damp Kohta's enthusiasm for firearms.
"Nyet Kohta-san, my papa gave this to me when he dropped me off at the academy. I'm not quite sure how he snuck it in, but now I'm rather glad he did."
"But why did your papa give you a gun? Was he crazy?" Kohta said, exasperated. Denya smiled and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.
"Da, you could say that. He was Spetznaz after all." Kohta's mouth dropped wide open.
"Di-di-did you say he was Spetznaz?"
"I thought you said he was in the military." Said a slightly-confused Takashi. Kohta eagerly turned to answer him.
"Komuro-san, don't you know anything? The Spetznaz are some of Russia's most elite fighting forces-"
"Bakas! Enough!" Saya exploded at them, causing both Kohta and Takashi to shut up, slightly embarrassed looks on their faces. Saya turned to face Denya, a warning look in her eyes. "I don't care how or why you have it, but you better be damn careful with it. Remember this, they're reactive to nothing but sound, so if you decide to go all Bruce Willis on us, you may as well ring the dinner bell." She turned back to face everyone. "Now, do we have a plan or don't we?" Takashi nodded.
"Get to the bus, check on our families and make sure they're safe." He cast Denya an apologetic look. "Sorry we can't go after your father Kondrashin-san." Denya just waved it off.
"Ah, don't worry. If anyone's about to survive this mess, it's papa. Now, shall we go?" Denya said, pocketing the pistol and drawing the kukri. Takashi nodded.
"Yeah, let's go."
Denya really, really, really hoped they were attracted to sound as much as Saya had said. If not, we're up shit-creek. He thought as he Takashi slowly began making his way down the stairs into the horde below. Half of him was scared Takashi would get eaten, and the other half was scared that the new kids they'd picked up would scream and blow the whole thing.
"It's true, they can't see him." Rei whispered behind him. Denya just nodded and wiped the sweat off his forehead. It was so quiet, only the sounds of Them moaning and shuffling around pierced the silence. Takashi was only fifteen feet from the stairs, but it may as well have been a mile. Come on Takashi, don't freeze up now. Takashi froze, and then looked around for something. Stooping down low to pick a shoe out of a pool of blood, he looked back at them and mouthed: Get ready. Then he turned, arched back his arm, and threw it.
The shoe arced through the air and hit the opposite lockers with a crash! And immediately, all of Them turned and began ambling over to the lockers, completely oblivious to the living in their midst.
Relief poured through Denya as Takashi motioned the others forward and stepped through the crowd to the door, pushing it open. Denya and the others quickly descended the stairs and made for the door as quietly as they could. It would have gone out without a cinch. Except for that one of the student's weapons bounced against the metal rail. The clanging echoed through the hall, the school, and the entire front yard.
The student stared in horror, Denya stared at him in a mix of fury and terror. Saya's eyes were as wide as dinner plates. And then They came, all at once, in one massive wave.
"Run!" Takashi yelled. And so they ran.
It was only just over a hundred yards, but it may as well have been a hundred miles. They were everywhere, hundreds of them swarming outside. No possible way to defeat them all, just run. So they ran, cutting down anything that got in their way. And when one of their party stumbled and fell, they kept running. And when another student ran back into the horde after her fallen friend, they kept running. And when Saya nearly stopped in disbelief at the girl's actions, they grabbed her and kept running.
They were on the bus, and Denya found himself shooting the gun for the first time. Breath slow, aim low, squeeze your whole hand. The gun jumped up in his hands, and one of Their heads exploded. Next to him, Kohta had taken up a firing position inside the bus and was picking off any that got too close. Saeko was outside, beating down those that Kohta missed. Denya put the gun away and withdrew his blade once again, cutting down Them with Saeko while everyone got aboard.
"Everyone's in, let's go!" Denya and Saeko ran on without a word and took seats while Shizuka tried to get orientated with the controls.
"Let's see here, there's the break the gas, and there's the clutch, yes they all seem to be there." She sounded like she was completely out of touch with reality.
"Hurry up and get the damn thing moving!" Takashi yelled.
"Wait, hold the bus!" Takashi and Denya turned at the sound of the cry. And Denya saw him.
Shido was mostly just a name to him. Denya had only seen the man two or three times, but he had immediately disliked him. He's a snake, a crocodile. Denya had seen how he talked to students, especially the girls, praising them with his tongue while undressing them with his eyes.
But it was Takashi's call, and he said to let them on, despite fierce opposition from Rei. Denya didn't like the man, but he had students with him, and Denya couldn't leave them to die. So he covered their entry, laying down cover-fire with Kohta.
They ran on one-by-one, except for one. Denya hadn't meant to see it, it was by pure chance. He took his eye off of Them for a moment, checking on Shido's distance to the bus.
He saw the student running, huffing as he struggled to carry his books with him. Denya watched as he tripped, fell onto the ground and spilled his possessions all over the place. And Denya watched as Shido ignored his outstretched arm, and smashed in his face with his shoe. The student fell back, shocked and bleeding. And then They were on him, and his shocked silence turned to agonized shrieks as They ripped and tore into his flesh.
"That's the last of them, let's go!" Takashi cried as Shido ran aboard. Denya leaped back on the bus and dove into a seat as Shizuka threw it into gear and plowed for the front gates. The thumps of the Them thundered throughout the bus, despite the panicked screams from the various students.
But Denya was oblivious to it all, a black rage growing inside him as he saw Shido wrap his arms around the students to whisper words of encouragement to them. The bus jolted violently as they smashed through the gates, through a final group of Them, and onto the road.
As the bus accelerated down the empty streets, Denya continued to stare into Shido's grip on the kukri tightened, and he felt quite sure he wouldn't feel any remorse for ending this sick man.
But the occasional thumping of bodies against the bus's hood reminded Denya of the real threat that faced them all. And a sudden thought jolted through his mind.
If this doesn't unify us, what will?
A/N: Chapter three is going to be a bit, interesting. Since we already know what happens to everyone in the manga/anime, I'm sticking to Denya's POV for Chapter three since he's new and I want to try and cement him as part of the group. But the deal is, chapter three's basically going to cover the rest of the anime series in a series of semi-flashback moments mixed with actual chunks of story during key moments. I'm not following the manga, partly because I don't like where it is now and I don't want to have to accommodate that into the fic, and so I can get through the canon faster and kick off into the real fanfiction without the restraints of writing in canon.
Anyway, hope you like it, please read and review, I love you all.
~ JSF