Chapter 2: The Quest for Mercy
Donna looked up from the safe room floor, fear racing through her mind. She had just woken from a nightmare, where she saw the Doctor, standing at the end of a long alley under a streetlamp. She had tried to run at him, to be at his side again. As she ran, she didn't seem to be getting any closer, and she ran as fast as she could. The harder she tried, the longer the alleyway became, until finally, she began to approach him, and the light above his head started to dim, and rain began to fall.
Donna approached slowly at first, but she soon found herself careening out of control towards him. Suddenly, she light turned out, and his features morphed into those of a tank. With an evil laugh, he walked up to her, and crushed her with a single blow of his fist.
Panting, Donna tried to calm herself. Her breath came in sharp gasps, but she eventually managed to calm herself. Looking up from the concrete floor of the safe room, everything appeared to be fine. Bill was mumbling in his sleep. Zoey seemed to be dreaming peacefully, Louis shifted onto his side, and Francis was sucking his thumb. Stifling a laugh, Donna tried to sleep again, but every time she shut her eyes, she heard the Doctor's hearty laugh transform into the sick guffaw of a tank.
Unable to sleep, Donna waited for the sun to rise. They couldn't travel that night because of the rainstorm. In the distance, she thought that she heard a witch's tortured screaming. Bill explained the reason for the delay: "Normally, we travel at night, but since tonight's so bad, we'll have to wait til later."
Donna had asked him: "Why not move during the day? I mean, you can see better, and you're more awake."
Bill shook him head. "We tried that at first, but during the day, the witches move around."
"So, can't we avoid them?"
"We also have to deal with the sun shining in our faces, and that zombies can see us a lot better." That made sense to her. Later, the topic had to moved to how were they going to get out of the city. So far, they had been just trying to survive, not knowing of any evacuation. The graffiti hadn't been helpful either, with most of it either being messages to loved ones, or arguments between different posters, which vaguely resembled youtube flame wars. Despite their isolation, everyone agreed that they'd have to make up for lost time, which meant a daylight move.
Donna was glad about this, although the others seemed nervous. At dawn, the other survivors got up and prepared to go. Donna picked up her guns: a colt 45 pistol and a police tactical shotgun. The five of them formed up at the door. Bill was first, Francis was second, Louis was third, Zoey was fourth, and Donna was last. Carefully, Bill opened removed the bar and opened the door, and they filed out.
Donna shut the door behind them and following along. They moved silently, and even though they didn't see any infected, the four were tense. They moved through a narrow alley and past a dumpster. At the end of the corridor, Bill stopped and dropped to one knee, scanning the street with his rifle. Giving an all clear signal, they shuffled along behind him.
Through several more desolate streets they passed without encountering a single infected. Suddenly, at a grand intersection, they were emerging from a shop when they heard a rumbling noise. They all readied their guns. Donna readied her pistol, taking the safety off and aiming down the sights. The noise got louder, then suddenly, a pickup truck with a bed full of survivors thundered past! The occupants were jubilantly celebrating their escape, and were shouting for joy.
Louis made a gesture to ask for help, but a man in the cab flipped him the bird. Donna gasped, and then, a loud, unearthly roar filled the air. Immediately, the survivors scrambled for cover as the first wave of zombies came rushing in.
"I swear to god I'm gonna kill those jerks!" growled Francis, pumping his shotgun. From around the far intersection to their left, a mob of zombies swarmed towards them. They opened fire, stopping the infected in their tracks. Donna emptied a mag of pistol into the swarm and switched to her shotgun.
Suddenly: "Behind you!" shouted Zoey. Donna spun on a dime and saw a second horde of zombies bearing down on her! She fired madly, receiving support from Zoey's powerful rifle.
At the front, Francis had bashed a large storefront window and hurled a Molotov into the charging mass. Reloading, he faced against a second assault coming from the left side. Bill went fully automatic and emptied out magazines of ammo left and right, but the infected didn't stop coming! Suddenly, the ground began to shake.
"Run!' ordered Bill, and they rushed out of the store. Moments later, a tank broke through the back of their holdout, and rushed right at them! Donna didn't even turn and look, she was putting everything into getting away.
"Shit!" yelled Louis. Another tank had been attracted to the clamor and they were running headlong into it! The group dived off into a side passage, and met with a mob of zombies. Desperate, they fired into the crowd, clearing through the infected.
As they darted toward another intersection, the whole corner filled with infected! Zoey fumbled around, reaching for a pipe bomb, while the others fired frantically into the horde. "Eat this!" she challenged and hurled the bomb into the middle of them. The beeping attracted the mindless monsters and they clawed to get at it.
Donna paused, watching in awe, when a rough hand jerked her back to her senses. "Keep moving, we've got to get on the rooftops!" She turned around, and saw Bill's face inches from her own. Then, the bomb exploded, liquefying the nearest infected, and stunning the outliers.
To Donna's horror, the tanks kept coming! She took a Molotov, lit it, and threw it into the path of the nearest tank, lighting it on fire. With a small thrill of victory, Donna ran forwards, following her companions into a side alley.
Louis hurdled onto a dumpster and began climbing a fire escape ladder. Bill dropped to the tail, holding off the tank. Donna didn't know what to do; to fight or run? "Help!" shouted Bill, as a tongue curled around him. Donna instinctively followed the tongue and opened fire on the smoker with her shotgun. The third shell hit it and it burst into a cloud of green smoke, and Bill scrambled back onto his feet. "Go, I'll hold them off!" he shouted.
Without thinking, Donna left him and clambered up the fire escape, reaching the rooftop in seconds. The other three were leaning over the side, pouring fire into the channel. A blast from Francis's shotgun hit the second tank in the head, killing him. Bill rose up the fire escape as fast as he could. He reached the top just in time, as at that very moment, a flying chunk of asphalt tore the rickety steel from the building!
Zoey spun around, training her sights on the third tank. Donna rushed over to her and opened fire with her pistol. She barely noticed the charred body of the first tank lying dead in the middle of the street. The new tank plowed through their attacks and started to climb up the building. "Get back!" warned Zoey, and Donna leapt away from the edge, and a large muscular hand appeared on the side.
Frantically, they reloaded their guns as the tank invaded the roof. "Open fire!" shouted Bill, and they unloaded into the monster. Again, it pushed through the gunfire and slammed Bill with one of its gigantic fists! The aged soldier flew through the air and slammed into an AC unit, denting the metal.
Horrified, Donna pumped her shotgun and leapt onto the tank's back! She smashed the barrel of her shotgun into the tank's skull, and fired. The blast shook the beast and the tank fell dead. Donna fell off her perch, rolling on the rooftop, flushed with victory. A groan immediately vanquished the joy of triumph from her mind.
The four of them rushed over to Bill. He was lying against the AC unit, his rifle still clenched in his fist. He groaned painfully. "Bill, are you okay?" asked an anxious Donna? The other four asked him similar questions, concern heavy on their features.
With a pained groan, Bill answered them: "I'm fine, just give me a little time to-" there was the sound of bones cracking, and the four of them shuddered. "That's better." he said windedly, rising to his feet, rubbing his back.
"Are you sure you're alright?" inquired Donna, anxious about his condition. "You haven't got any cuts, or bones broken, have you?"
"I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine. The damn metal took most of the hit, and that tank knocked the wind out of me." Donna relaxed and reloaded her weapons. She was placing the last shell back in her shotgun when she brushed her back with her hand and a flash of pain flared up. She had been so pumped with adrenaline that she hadn't noticed that some of the zombies had landed hits on her body. Lifting her sweater slightly, she noticed a red mark on her stomach.
"That hurts." she murmured, brushing it with her fingers.
She heard Zoey say: "I'll check you for injuries."
Donna didn't see the need and rebuffed her: "I'm fine, thanks."
"I know. You don't look too bad, but I gotta make sure you don't have any cuts on you."
At this point Louis cut in: "It's so that we can be sure that you didn't get hit harder than you thought. When you're in a fight, you don't feel pain the way you usually do."
Francis watched, slightly amused. Bill jabbed him in the sides and intervened: "Just get it over with so we can get moving. We're just going to check for cuts, because zombies spread the infection through bites."
"What, why aren't you getting examined then?"
"Because we've all taken hits, and we know we're immune."
"This'll only take a second." urged Zoey gently. Donna gave and exasperated sigh and followed Zoey to where they'd have some privacy. Francis picked up a piece of paper and read it.
"Everyone, go to Mercy."
The doctor poured out the hot tea into five cups he had magically pulled out of his pockets, much to Ellis's excitement. Nick accepted somewhat stiffly, and they sipped in silence until the doctor asked in his offhandedly friendly manner: "Exactly how did this all start, hmm?" Rochelle jumped at the chance.
"This all started about two weeks ago, with the first outbreak of "super rabies" detected in the Mid Atlantic region, Pennsylvania specifically. It spread quickly, a week later, it turned up in the South. We've been fighting for our lives for about the last two weeks."
"Did anything weird happen before this all started -anything unusual at all?"
"Well, no." she said flatly. Rochelle briefly paused, and then tentatively offered: "Well, there was this thing with the mosquitoes disappearing." She frowned. The doctor stuffed his hands into his pockets and mumbled something. Afterwards, they slept for the night before continuing the next day.
The sun rose bright and early, waking the survivors and the doctor, who hadn't slept well, being kept awake most of the night by his mind relentlessly working until, tired at last, he took a few hours of sleep. Breakfast that morning was a few pop tarts and cola before they set off into suburbia.
Along the way, Ellis and the doctor chatted intermittently, a fact which Nick moaned about. The doctor noted that of the group, Rochelle had the most realistic view of the situation. Nick was extremely dark and cynical about their prospects, but he was not entirely unjustified. Coach seemed to know what was going on, but took less of a leadership role than Rochelle. Ellis was like a hyperactive five year old who had just downed a massive can of Full Throttle and had recently acquired an extensive potty mouth vocabulary in addition to being allowed to drive a Ford Mustang like a maniac. As they walked through the daylight streets and manicured lawns, which were starting to go wild, they encountered relatively new infected, and it seemed as if they were only liable to get swarmed if they stayed in one place for any length of time.
Unfortunately, their good luck eventually ran out. It began with the party stopping off for lunch and for Coach and Rochelle to find out where they were on the map. The house they stayed in had belonged to one of Rochelle's friends, who had managed to amass such a truly wondrous collection of maps as to have an entire bookcase dedicated to cartography. As it turned out, it was this very reason that led Rochelle to call for a lunch stop here so that she could take her pick of the maps and GPS systems, including some military systems which were accurate to inches. Unfortunately, however, when Rochelle tried to use them, they didn't give her a reading. "Well, that's not going to make this any easier." she sighed and chowed down on a granola bar.
Meanwhile, nick was cleaning his guns while Coach and Ellis discussed rock music. The doctor heard something that sounded like a high pitched murmur coming from down the street. He turned and saw the source: a crowd of zombies rushing towards them! "Guys," he called. "Zombies,"
The survivors scrambled. Nick reassembled his Desert Eagle with mechanical speed, Rochelle tucked away a selection of maps and came running with her AK-47 at the ready. Coach and Ellis darted out with baseball bat and shotgun respectively. The swarm was close to them; only forty feet away when the survivors began pouring fire into their ranks and dropping zombies like flies.
The doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver, aimed it into the horde, and fired. Immediately, zombies started holding their heads, screaming. "That's weird," remarked the doctor. The survivors momentarily hesitated, but quickly resumed firing. In seconds, the last zombie lay dead and they reloaded their weapons quickly before moving on.
They met light resistance for the next several blocks, save for a hunter, which pounced Nick, only to receive a crushing blow from Coach's bat. The next serious resistance they encountered came in a convention center parking garage. The first floor was cleared easily enough; the doctor's screwdriver held the zombies immobile while Coach, Rochelle, and Nick dismantled them with melee weapons, leaving Ellis to protect the doctor. Things started to go downhill halfway through the second story, when at a turning gap halfway through the level, a spitter separated them with an acid glob!
Coach and Rochelle were on one side of the divide, with Nick, Ellis and the doctor on the other. Then, a jockey leapt on to Coach's back, almost steering him into the acid! At the last moment, Rochelle tore the abomination off him and hurled it into the pool.
Meanwhile, the doctor and the other two faced a small group of common infected, including fat zombies, which took more to drop than the regulars. However, they escaped with only minor brusies and ascended to the third story, where things began to really go to hell.
A forlorn saw filled the doctor's ears and made him feel an ominous presence. Cocking his head, he asked: "That noise, what is that?"
Coach answered him in a hushed tone: "That's a witch, man."
"Why is she crying?" The brilliant intellect in him was running at full speed again.
"I don't know. Best not to get too close. You know what I'm sayin?"
"No, I don't." said the doctor and turned away, going up the ramp. The witch was a scrawny, pale girl with bleached-almost-white blonde hair and extremely long, sharp metacarpals. Her hands were covering her face like a weeping angel.
Intrigued, the doctor tried to approach the witch. She was pitiful sight, worse than those people under the cats' hospital. As he approached her, she let out a gruff groan. His hair stood on end! He drew closer.
The groaning morphed into grunting into growling into screaming into shrieking! The doctor wanted to run, but something was playing through his head. The words were barely comprehensible, but they formed a barely coherent fragment: "Away… Now… Hurts! Kill, Go DIE!" With that final sound, the witch lunged at the doctor, screaming horribly! He turned his sonic screwdriver at her, only to intensify the wailing.
Desperate to get away, the doctor turned to run, but something long, sharp, and surprisingly forceful sliced through his side, dropping him to the floor! "Help!" he called out in terror, but he was alone and feeling every slice those abominable, cruel finger-claws made through his flesh, carving him in channels of pain. The proto language continued: "Go Die away KILL! Go Die away KILL!" It was like a Dalek chant.
Suddenly, an explosion was heard somewhere around the witches head, and she collapsed dead on top of him, being brushed off his body. "Get up!" yelled Nick's voice and grasped his hand, pulling his to his feet. The doctor took one step and nearly fell over. Feeling the man slide underneath his arm, he began to limp forward. The doctor's body was racked with pain, but his head demanded his full attention. There was something about that chanting: "Go Die away KILLl!" that engrossed him.
The doctor barely noticed that Rochelle was bandaging off and giving him a very stern reprimand, because, in his head, he was thinking: Go Die away KILL! Go Die away KILL! He followed the other, detached from his body, mulling over that one clue he had. That one clue needed to solve the puzzle. That once clue needed to save humanity. That one clue needed to destroy humanity.
Thanks for reviewing and favoring this story so much. I had no idea that this would catch on so well.
I am sorry for taking so damn long with the updates. I have been running highshool and professional training, so I'm rather busy.
This is going to be a relatively short fic; comparable to a single block of Doctor Who.
As always, review!