They were down there in the darkness; their moans rising up from the barricaded doors, those wood planks would not last long. The stairs were blocked by a cave in of the ceiling that had obviously happened quite some time ago. As it was, we were out of both ammunition and wood planks, running off of adrenaline and luck. The pressure was so tense as the sound of splintering wood and angry groans kept to the beat of the irregular pounding on the metal reached us halfway up the staircase. A few more taps echoed from down the flight of steps before the dreaded hollow clicks died under renewed moaning.
"Scheiße!" Ludwig cursed as he hurried back to us, jumping the steps two at a time, "Are you two through yet!"
"Almost," I shouted back, only to hear something from above. I whipped around to see the glowing red eyes of even more creatures pouring in from top floor. I backed away, bumping into the boy behind me.
"Hey!" Alfred shouted, almost getting knocked down the stone steps and into the German running up the stairs, "What was that-!"
I grabbed his arm and started running down. Ludwig halted in his progress, confusion written over his face. "They're coming in from there too!" The sounds of splintering wood sent my heart into frenzy, adrenaline coating my arteries as I looked over our bleak situation. No ammunition, the banging on the door was insistent, the rocks from the collapsed ceiling on the stairs were rattling down the steps. Hopelessness was feeding off my fright, there had to be something we could use! There were a few pipes on the walls from when the building had been in function, then the hammer.
The Amerikan fell to his knees, "We're going to die. Oh God, please don't leave me here! Please, oh God!" He started crying, the dark droplets of salty water rolling down his cheeks to the cement floor. I looked to Ludwig who had that hollow gleam in his sky blue eyes; the look of surrender. Did I look like that? Had I given up and not even realize it?
"Get up! We may have no ammunition, but we have close ranged weaponry," I growled, dragging the child up by the collar of his uniform.
"What use will that be? Hold them off a little while longer? It will be useless. They'll break free from upstairs, through the door and the barricades. They're everywhere like flies, we're surrounded," the German sighed. I could see his hand wandering to his inside pocket where he kept his cyanide pills.
I grabbed his hand in a crushing grip and threw it down, "You said there were supplies behind the door that was left there due to the infestation! What is behind that wall, tell me!"
He me in the eyes and I could see him going through the list in his mind. "Ammunition, guns, rations . . ." his eyes lit up, "Bombs."
"Then we best get into that room." I made my way over to the pipes lining the walls and grabbed one of the sturdier ones. Pressing my foot against the stone wall, I ripped it free from the hinges keeping it in place alongside the rusted counterparts. It made a cascade of noise, but what use was being quiet now? Weighing the metal in my hands, I nodded in satisfaction; this would do just fine.
"You're crazy, both of you, absolute maniacs! You just ask for suffering!" Alfred shouted, tears pooled on the courners of his eyes.
My gaze hardened as I stalked up to him and fisted a handful of his silky blonde hair pulling his head up and forcing him to look me in the eye, "You beg your god to save you and yet when faced with even the slightest of chances to save yourself, you turn it down. You worried about your brother, but your own cowardice kept you from even approaching the thought of leaving the fragile security of this bunker. You aren't in a war any longer; World War Two does not exist here. There are no leaders, no flags, no glory; you are trying to just survive the next minute. To do that, you need to grow up child. Now grab your knife and help us, we need to get out of here and then we can find our companions."
He stared at me dully; I almost thought he didn't hear a word I said until I released my hold and he pulled out his knife. I smiled, placing my hand on his head in a weak form of an apology and heading over to the door where Ludwig was pushing against the metal. The sounds of angered groans came from inside, this had to be fast or we would not make it. I propped against the door, preparing for when he would pull back the various locks. Feeling them throw themselves against the metal panel, I worried whether I would be enough to give my comrades enough time to ready for the incoming wave. We didn't have much time at all; the barricades were failing, the wood splintering and arms reaching with their rotten flesh sagging from the bones. I looked to Ludwig and nodded that I was ready. I just needed to hold them back for a moment, just a moment. There was a rapid succession of clicks and hollow thuds before I felt all their weight pressed against me. My tired body struggled from the constant stress and endless wakefulness; I felt my feet slide back and counted to three in my mind, only making halfway to 'two' before I was hurled back by their force.
Luckily Ludwig got out of the way of the door as it was thrown open. I skid across the stones as they rushed into the room, some falling from the sudden lack of resistance. Keeping a strong hold on the metal pipe, I jumped to my feet, the other two already fighting and attempting to keep a safe distance from their opponents. If they were careful, that meant they were slow. And slow was not a plus in this factor. I rushed towards them, the pipe swinging a full circle between my fingers before embedding itself deep into the skull of one of the undead soldiers. The metal concaved the bones into the brain matter, the way the skull gave out vibrating up my arm. Oh how I loved this!
"Don't take your time, strike fast and hard!" I cried over the moans and pressed forward. I was surprised how easy they gave way under my blows, but never would I let such a miniscule feeling come between me and my goals. What I did realize, however, was that the mob of rotten corpses were all trying to get through the door at once, hindering them just as much as they did us; perhaps even more so. Clawed hands flailed and tore into my clothing and skin. I could feel the warm trickle of blood down my cheek as I pushed myself on, running only on adrenaline.
The forced I had placed in moving forward back-lashed on me as I unexpectedly broke through their ranks and effectively threw myself to the floor, panting and sweating. There was so much in the room, most specifically guns; an entire array of different guns, untouched by the previous inhabitants due to their stupidity on how to work such equipment. A wicked smile crept across my features, pulling at the severed skin on my face giving a pleasant shock of pain down my spine. Grabbing the slender tube, weighing little in my hand compared to many machine guns I had experience with while still in the war. I jammed in the warhead and knelt, aiming at the great hoard of maggot ridden monstrosities.
"Alfred! Ludwig! Where are you!" I screamed over the noise. I couldn't fire just yet without my comrades. They could get caught in the blast, and despite our differences I had learned to trust the Nazi with my life. The Amerikan was just a child as well; I couldn't allow such a young one die to save my own self. As I had hoped, Ludwig rolled out of the mess of corpses, his appearance no better than my own; and closely followed by a dazed and bleeding Alfred. The German's blue eyes locked onto the weapon in my hand and he couldn't help by smile as well. We probably looked like we had lost our minds with how he grinned like imbeciles over our suddenly brighter outlook on our situation. Some of the creatures realized that we had pushed ourselves back into the room and turned to attack. Looking back to my target, I tapped the trigger with my thumb . . .
"Perhaps I should have thought a little more before choosing the Panzerfaust," I laughed, helping to fill as many packs as we could carry with supplies.
Alfred glared at me from across the ruined building, "You think asshole! The entire roof almost collapsed on us!" As it was, there was much more rubble now than there was before that scenario.
"At least we're alive Alfred," Ludwig sighed, he didn't find the destruction half of the cement building as amusing as I did, "And there is still a long way to go. I doubt we'll have time to sleep between here and Der Riese."
The boy with corn silk hair stumbled over the mountain of bodies we collected, holding his pack of foodstuffs high as the maggots writhed under his jackboots, "Duh Reezey? Explanation please Mr. Nazi?" He asked and I couldn't help but giggle.
"Der Reise," Ludwig growled, "And call me by my damn name! It's a facility a ways away from here. Ivan and I talked about it while you slept; it's also where this entire mess started."
"Hold on, wait, you're leading us to the heart of this chaos! You loons better have a damn good reason for dragging me along!"
"We've gone over this little Amerikan," I scolded him, filling up a second pack, the first slung onto my back, "Ludwig says there is a possibility of a cure there as well."
The way his eyes lit up reminded me of my little sister when Katyusha surprised her with a freshly baked birthday cake, he was so adorable. "Are you serious! Fuck, then what are we waiting for!"
I looked over to Ludwig, "Just wait, he'll be complaining soon enough."
"I know," the other sighed. I laughed as the Amerikan tripped over the remains of the wall and fell into the mud outside, complaining over the mess. The German man groaned, "Teenagers."
Outside of the bunker was a wasteland filled with corpses stranded in the low mist of the early morning. Looking to the sky I could see it would be another overcast day. Was there ever a day I saw the sun? I would have to say no, but then again I might have and the memory was not important enough to hold onto. We trudged through the muck; it stank like the bodies that lay across the landscape and seemed to grab our boots, begging to take us down into the black depths. It was an easy walk, simple despite the many creatures walking about; it was much easier to navigate a wide berth around them. The fact that only sounds drew their attention made our progress exceptionally smooth.
My eyes scanned the area thoroughly. I had been in this place for months, bordering a year if my memory served me correctly. One of our pilots had flown over this empty territory because of how quiet it was. In times of war, if an area was quiet, something was there; usually something big. The images of a small facility situated in the marsh had spurred a charge on the base. However . . . we came at a bad time.
"It stinks," I growled, my teams moving through the swamp toward our intended target. I made a face of disgust, leave it to the Nazis to hide away in such a place. It was the closest thing to Hell they could reach. The mud was horrible, not even the TI-34s could get through the loose muck and any man who stood in place too long would have to be pulled out by his comrades. Some even lost their shoes and had to continue on in their bare skin. Not that we weren't used to it by now. This war left us without many things the other Allies would have deemed necessities, including guns, which a little more than half of my men did not have.
Another pair of boots were not too far behind me, lighter than my own and agile in their step. "It smells like decay in the mist," he spoke gently; his voice had always been soft and soothing.
"And the Earth smells of blood. We must be getting close," I chuckled dryly. More death, more pain, I hated this war. So far from home, I was completely out of my norm and situated out in the middle of this godforsaken marsh did not brighten my hopes of returning. The brunette gave me a wary smile, being my senior of half a decade; he was unusually calming and father-like, the closest thing I ever had to a father anyway.
We continued through the muck before spotting the first Nazi. I held up my hand signaling for my battalion to halt. We were still some ways from the Facility, its dark shape looming a ways away. Despite this, there were people walking through the mud, they were too far away to identify, but they looked mentally unwell. Some slouched forward; their bodies swaying side to side as they trudged along, their arms lip and swinging like pendulums to their shuffling pace. Others looked in pain, their heads thrown back and backs arched, looking up to the ominous sky as though beseeching their god for pity and death. Their arms were held out slightly, palms up to the clouds and elbows awkwardly bent, leading their awkward stride with their hips.
"What the hell?" someone behind me whispered as we watched our enemies' antics. I couldn't help but agree. What was this! I motioned to the speaker, a small Latvian named Ravis armed with an SVT40 struggled out of the muck and armed his gun, lining the sight up and firing. His target's head exploded off the shoulders, but all the others held still.
That's when I noticed something far more peculiar. They were unarmed; every one of them empty handed as they loitered aimlessly through the much and mist. They turned towards us, their precision impeccable in pin pointing the young Latvian's position. Their eyes seemed to glow an unnatural red in the dim lighting, my heart beginning to pound. Ravis, who had been preparing to down another, froze. His blue-gray eyes widened as the gun shook in his grasp, slowly falling. "Th-they're . . ." He was cut off by the sound of heavy panting, very reminisce of an animal.
Whipping around, I lifted my PPD-40, firing without so much as thinking of the glowing-eyed beasts that looked of dogs but long dead. Its fur was falling out, leaving it with naked patches of skin and maggots digging deep into the blackening, rotting, stinking flesh. It gnashed its bloody jaws at me, fighting nature to sink its fangs into my flesh only to die short of reaching me. There were screams as we were engaged, my men retreating in fear and panic.
We were flanked on all sides, the unarmed soldiers advancing toward us in varying speeds. Some managed an unsightly run towards our position, their arms flailing in every direction as they growled in voices unnaturally animalistic. Others, their legs looking grotesquely deformed with maggot-eaten soars and gleaming bones in view, limped after. Not far behind those were soldiers I had not seen, some had their legs entirely torn off or the bones so horribly fractured that rendered the limbs useless drag themselves along with their arms, their clawed hands digging deep into the muck.
I fired on the fastest of the group, their bodies not reeking to the degree of decay as the others of their party that reached out for me and my men. Their nails were over grown and yellow with dried blood, the beds lined with grime and carnivorous bugs eating the flesh off from under the protection. This was why Ravis had tensed at the sight of them: they were all dead to begin with! Living corpses with their flesh beginning to rot and their eyes glazed over sightlessly, if there at all.
"Fall back!" I shouted to all who remained; those being only a select few, the rest running off in the distance. We cleared an exit and progressed as fast as we could through the marsh. Ravis stood before me, firing into the approaching mob while Toris and I covered his flanks. I never noticed the danger until I was right on top of it, quite literally.
"Look out!" a voice broke through my thoughts as I was suddenly thrown back into the young Amerikan.
I looked down to him, completely confused in his actions, "Chto?" His eyes were trained to the muck and I followed his gaze. I was about to step into a patch of marsh grass, not that that was anything new, but hanging just outside the brownish blades was a hand, black with the mud and decay. The nails were long from months of neglect and the remaining muscles twitching in anticipation. Stifled moans rose from the heart of the small patch.
"What beast can be so clever as to situate itself in this place?" Ludwig murmured, his brows furrowing. I knew why, if they were smart enough to lay a ploy similar in make to an ambush, how stupid were they really? Curiosity gripped my instincts to maneuver around the condensed patch of weeds and caused me to skirt pass the hand and to the side. Using the long barrel of my new Gewehr 98, I pushed the grass away to reveal the body. In all honesty, it was chance that it ended up in that patch, as seen by how the arm that reached out through the grass was the only usable limb. The legs had been blown off, leaving only stumps of thighs, the flesh minced and bones shattered. The left arm was crippled to the point of no return, bones broken though the skin and the body in such a state of decay that even the maggots let it be.
I recognized the uniform however. How could I not when I wore the same clothing; down to the same fabric used to construct the articles. I remembered the long brown hair that had only grown in absence, and fell pass the shoulders, blackened in the mud. The half of the face I could see was distorted, the eye rolled into the skull and mouth gaping open with sallow cheeks that had been cut into by nature and carelessness. My mind reconstructed the features into something I knew only too well. If this had still been World War Two, I would have mourned, cried even. I would have sworn to kill every Nazi on the planet and see to the death of Hitler personally as retribution. But in this place where sides did not matter and loyalties were not expected, I only felt the growing hollowness in my chest complete itself.
I spun my rifle, the bayonet hanging over the skull of the one I had searched for every day since we had been separated. All that time, wasted on the dead. I knew it had been a waste. Why did I ever delude myself into hoping in this place that held no such thing? I skewered the blade through the skull of my best friend.
"We best keep moving, yes. We still have a long way to go Comrades."