We're Gonna Get Those Bastards Chapter 10
The scene sets in the seemingly desolate town of Riverside, on the outskirts of the city of Fairfield. The town was now known for few things, except for it being the location of the special infected's cozy church.
However if one was to venture closer to the town's docks, they would here violent screams accompanied by rapid gunfire by various weapons.
"Come get some motherfuckers!" Francis screamed as he blasted away advancing infected with his combat shotgun, every once in awhile being forced to take a step back on the rickety pier.
"Where the hells that boat?" Louis screamed as he looked over at Bill, "They said they would be here in ten minutes, its only been about five, give them some time damnit!" he barked back.
Sweat dripped down Zoey's brow as she continued to bat away the mindless creatures, however it wasn't the waves of commoners that had her on edge. She and the group had yet to see a special infected during their journey through Riverside.
What the group didn't see was that behind a building across from the boathouse, the special infected were crowded around in a circle, as Smoker drew a crude map of the boathouse in the dirt.
"Ok team, the common infected have the survivors blocked on a pier approximately 5 to 10 yards long and only about 2 yards wide. Their rescue has an ETA of 5 minutes so we have to act fast."
The rest of the special infected nodded simultaniously as Smoker began to draw a plan with a stick, "Hunter you dive up onto the boathouse's rooftop and await for Boomer's bile, that will be your signal."
Hunter nodded and the weezing member then looked over to his obese friend, "Alright Boomer, your gonna have to blend in with the common infected and avoid being shot, once your close enough you should be able to dose all four of them since their so enclosed."
Boomer timidly nodded, the obvious danger of the situation creeping up on him. Then Smoker pointed at himself, "When their blinded by the bile, i'll use my tongue from inside the boathouse and swipe away their weapons. With them blinded and weaponless, Hunter will pounce on the war veteran since he seems to be the foundation of their group."
"When thats done, Tank and Witch with their superior agility and strength should be more then a match for the remaining three." With that being said, they all backed away from the dirt map and smirked, "And that my friends is how you stop survivors" Smoker chuckled with a hint of superiority.
It took only a minute for Hunter to jump on the boathouse's roof, Smoker to take his postion on the boathouse's second floor, Tank and Witch to hide behind some nearby trees, and Boomer to push his way into a large group of common infected.
Boomer could barely breathe as the group of mindless drones sprinted towards the pier, the obese infected firmly secure in the middle, however the group didn't forsee the biker pulling out a liquor bottle with an oily rag inside.
"Theres to many, its molotov time!" Francis screamed as he threw it onto the wooden pier in front of them, which quickly spread into a brilliant blaze.
Boomer's eyes widened as he looked at the inferno in front of him, however he found that he couldn't stop himself because of the group's momentum, in addition to the fact that the common infected didn't seem to sense any danger.
"Oh crap, stop guys, please stop!" Boomer cried out before the group ran full force into the blaze, Boomer's shrieks echoing for his shocked friends to hear as he danced around in the flames.
Giving one last desperate push, the cinged infected fell off of the pier and into the water, giving a satisifed sigh as he floated face down in the forgiving liquid.
Smoker shook his head from the inside of the boathouse, "Son of a bitch, should have known tubby would let me down" he growled before he decided to use the flames as a deterent in substitution of Boomer's bile.
With quick movements the appendege sprang from the tall member's mouth and sailed through the flames, however the rising smoke cut off Smoker's vision and he randomly grasped ahold of something metal and yank it away from one of the survivors.
Back on the docks Louis grasped around on his belt buckle, "What the hell happend to my pipe bomb?" he questioned, but it was answered four seconds later as an explosion shook the boathouse on it's foundation.
As Smoker's pipebomb incident rocked the boathouse, Hunter vibrated violently back and forth on the boathouse roof before the foundation gave way and he fell through the shingles and next to his unconsious friend.
Behind some nearby trees, Witch stared at her friend's failure with shock, before a foghorn echoed throughout the harbor as a dirty old fishing boat appeared in the distance, enclosing in fast.
"Damnit, we gotta act fast, lets go Tank!" She yelled over to the giant creature and in one last desperate act the duo charged through the common hordes, Witch slicing and Tank pounding any unfortunate creature that got in their way.
With extreme force they dashed through the flames, and didn't stop even when the fire spread to their bodies.
The group of survivors stared in shock as the flaming infected dashed towards them, and they wasted no time hoping onto the waiting boat as it pulled up to the dock.
As the vessel quickly pulled away, Tank grasped Witch's wrist and tossed her flaming form through the air, making her appear as a fireball as she landed on the stern of the ship.
"Damn this bitch is persistant" Zoey growled as she spotted the nearby sail. With a smirk she grasped a dangling rope at her side and gave it a pull.
Witch raised an eyebrow, but as she turned to her left she recieved a painful shot from the sail full force before toppling overboard and into the murky water.
Tank sighed as he looked at the retreating boat before calmly walking into the water, steam rising into the air as the fire disappeared from his body.
Within five mintues he stepped back out with Boomer and Witch's bodies over his massive shoulders, before heading over to the cinged boathouse to collect the rest of his friends.
It was exactly one week since the survivors escaped from the city, and as the special infected quickly nursed themselves back to health they only had one common thought, they were bored as shit!
They had always known that stopping the survivors was a big part of their post-infected existence, but instead of attempting to find other survivors that were sure to riddle the large landscape, they decided that the four that got away were the only ones worth chasing.
"God, i'm soooo bored!" Hunter whined as he lounged on one of the many rows of chairs that riddled the church. Boomer nodded absently next to him as Witch sat in the corner filing her claws to the light of the church's many lit candles.
Then the group's eyes widened as Smoker appeared with several gasoline canisters in his hands, as he half-heartidly began to pour them all over the church.
"Uh...Smoker what are you doing?" Hunter asked nervously while his friend whistled a happy tune as he made sure to put an extra thick pocket of gasoline next to the glaring Witch, "Well the survivors are gone, weren't we all unanimous when we said we would commit a mass suicide?"
"What?" Witch screamed as she looked over at her boyfriend who chuckled nervously, "I was kinda joking dude." Smoker slammed the final gas tank down, "Well what the hell are we gonna do in this hell hole all day, take a vacation?" the weezing member demanded as Witch's face lit up.
"Thats a great idea!" she cheered as she quickly stood up and grasped Hunter's claws, "How about it? Why not leave this city behind for awhile, and go somewhere exotic! I always wanted to see Paris!" the girl squealed.
Then not even waiting for an answer, the girl ran over to a corner of a church, and began to pack her limited belongings into a small suitcase.
The four remaining infected looked at her like she was nuts before Boomer shrugged his shoulders, "It beats ritualistic suicide" he muttered as they all began to prepare for their trip.
Several hours later the five special infected walked through the front doors of Metro International Airport, each member with a suitcase or duffelbag over their shoulder.
"Alright bitch, you led us to a decaying airport, is this where we are gonna spend our 'vacation'?" Smoker asked sarcastically as Witch scowled at him, "No asshole, we just need to find a working plane and fly somewhere nice."
Smoker growled, "Well I hope you have a pilot's license because I sure as hell don't!" the tallest member argued but Witch seemed unconvinced, "Eh, how hard could it be?" she chuckled as they made their way to the terminals.
As they passed by a gift shop, the group packed their bags full of snacks and reading material before opening one of the terminal doors, only to be met with the outside runway, "Greeeat, all I see are C-130s, and I don't think any of us can get one of these friggin things off the ground."
Witch blushed a little as she looked around for a solution, "M-maybe we can find someone to pilot it for us" she said hopefully as Smoker slammed his bag down next to a radio blasting static.
"Oh sure bitch, we're just gonna happen to find somebody whose gonna be waiting here, and is willing to give us a ride. Get real!" the tall member screamed before the static subsided to the voice of a cheeky old man, "Why hello there! You folks gonna be needing a lift? All you gotta do is gas me up!" the pilot yelled enthusiastically.
Smoker looked at the radio in shock and then to Witch's smirking face, "...lucky bitch."
Luckily for the group the pilot of the C-130 couldn't see them well through the cockpit window, and never met a special infected. So it was easy after the quick gas up to enter the cargo hold in the back, and before they knew it, the special infected were on vacation.
Two hours after takeoff Smoker began to shift uneasy in the cargo bay as he listened for any signs of landing, "Where the hell is he taking us?" he worridly asked.
Witch put down her magazine and sighed at him, "Relax Choker, Paris is a long ways away." Smoker frowned at the nickname, and he still wasn't convinced, "How the hell do you know hes flying to Paris? He didn't tell us where, he just said it was safe!"
Boomer finished eating a bag of doritos and smiled, "Maybe we're going to Italy, I love Italian food!" Everyone but Smoker nodded, since he decided to be the voice of reason for the trip.
"Well even if we are going there, we aren't gonna last long if we land in a military base! They'll either pump us full of lead, or use us as test subjects" he complained and Hunter looked away from his gameboy and at his angsting friend, "Don't worry about it. We packed disguises remember? They should be more then enough to get us past any checkpoints."
A sudden change in altitude alerted the group of a landing and they quickly scrambled to their suitcases to don their disguises.
Ten minutes later the special infected stood at the cargo bay hatch as they waited for the plane to come to a complete stop. Soon they all tensed as the back doors slowly lowered to reveal the somber face of the aging pilot.
"Bad news partners, it-" he stopped short as he stared at the group. Hunter wore his trademark hoodie, but added a pair of large mittens to cover his claws. Smoker wore a hoodie similiar to Hunter in order to cover up his abrasions. Witch wore a simple white dress, but added a pair of sunglasses to cover up her red orbs, and like Hunter had mittens over her large claws.
Tank wore a muscle shirt and scarf to cover up his missing jaw, and finally Boomer wore an XL trenchcoat to cover up his boils. The pilot was taken back momentarily at the groups attire, before continuing, "-it seems that our destination has been comprimised by the infection" he said sadly as he allowed the group to disembark from the C-130.
All of the group's jaws dropped (besides Tank of course) at the sight of the burning rubble of yet another airport similiar to theirs, "Where the hell are we, Afghanastan?" Hunter asked seriously.
Smoker's blood began to boil as he spotted the various signs that stated, 'Welcome to Savannah, Georgia', "The deep south, are you kidding me?" he shouted as he looked over at Witch.
"Oh this is a perfect getaway location you bitch. Maybe we should try Antartica next!" he shouted at the crestfallen girl, her dreams of Paris crushed.
The pilot rubbed the back of his head, "Well no matter guys, since this place has been overrun, we can just refuel and be on our-" he was cut off as he began to vomit violently all over the concrete runway.
Then in one swift option he emptied his stomach contents and landed face down on the ground with a 'plop'.
The group stared at the pilot silently, before Hunter turned to Smoker, "...I think he was a carrier" he stated before Smoker sighed, "No shit, well this is great. We're stuck in the asshole of America with no way back to the city, any plans bitch?" he asked Witch as they all pulled off their disguises.
Witch grabbed her duffelbag and headed for a nearby exit gate, "Well I don't know about you, but a vacation is a vacation and I'm gonna make the best of it" she humphed before the others quickly followed.
As the airport became more distant behind them, they soon found themselves in the swamplands of Georgia, with various boarded up houses littering the muddy landscape.
"Aww man what a dump" Hunter muttered boredly as Witch began to shiver slightly, "This place is creepy" she studdered while looking at all the mindless infected clad in overalls and daizy dukes.
Boomer looked up at the roof of a decrepit house and for a split second could have sworn he spotted a pair of beady little eyes glaring at him, "...And I keep getting the feeling that we're being watched."
Boomer was more right then he knew, because currently standing on the second floor balcony of a mansion located in a nearby plantation, three pairs of unaturally colored eyes shrouded in shadows, stared at the special infected's trek through their territory.
"Well well, looks like we got us another group of city-slickers comin in to our neck of the woods, don't it?" the largest form stated, and through the shadows it was obvious that it's right arm was abnormally large while his left was suffering from severe muscle atrophy.
The second form grinned as acid dripped from it's large mouth attached to an even longer neck, "Well if we gonna do somethin about them, I wanna keep that tall handsome fella with the long tongue, hes mighty purdy." she then chuckled much like Goofy would in a typical Mickey Mouse cartoon.
The third member, who couldn't be taller then a third grader, hopped up onto the shoulder of the largest member and smirked at the unaware group, "These city folk keep arriving in their fancy aerocrafts, and think they can waltz all over our land. I think its time we show them some...'southern hospitality'" he stated darkly as they all grinned.
"So where are we going?" Hunter asked everyone as they made their way down a dirt road on the outskirts of a nearby plantation. Witch looked at a map she swipped at the airport, "Well we can go see whats left of the Telfair Academy of Arts and Sciences if anybody is intrested."
The male infected all looked at each other momentarily, "Nah" they said simultaniously before the paused as an inhumane howl pierced through the air.
Within a fraction of a second something fast plowed into Tank and picked him off his feet as they both slammed into a nearby wall. As they were caught off guard, something small landed on Hunter's shoulders and smiled at him, "Hey there city-boy, hows about a lift?" Jockey chuckled madly as he began to pull Hunter away from the group.
"Get it off me!" he cried as Witch tried in vain to swipe the little monster off. Jockey suddenly felt a slimey tongue wrap around his torso before he was pulled off and held before Smoker, "Disgusting little rodent" he glared at it before something green landed at the group's feet.
Boomer, Witch, and Smoker danced widly as the acid spread around their feet, before Smoker felt stubby hands pull him against a pair of sagging breasts, "Why heeello their cutey pie!" yelled an obnoxious voice.
Smoker looked up from his place against the woman's boobs to come face to face with a giant grinning mouth, and of course Smoker screamed like a girl before passing out.
With Tank, Smoker, and Hunter incapacitated, Jockey wasted no time diving on top of Witch and knocking her out. As Boomer stood as the last member of his group, he stared transfixed at the beautiful creature before him.
Lovely locks of dirt-clad hair were elegently tied in loose pig-tails, and their beauty was matched only by the angel's face. Dark circles danced around a pair of beady bloodshot eyes, and a giant mouth housed several golden colored teeth as the godess grinned.
This perfect face was held up by a large neck and the creatures beautiful body held many sexy sags and bulges peaking out from her tattered clothing. And as Boomer stared at Spitter before him, he felt love for the first time.
But his lovestruck awe was cut short as Jockey dove onto his head, "Lights out big boy" he cooed before he felt a painful jab and his world went black.
Author's Notes: And there you have it. Not sure if this is what many people thought I had in mind for the group's first meeting with the newer special infected, but there you go. Leave a review and tell me how it is so far.
Also I hope nobody from the South took offense to my depiction of Georgia, I was just going for the most stereotypical view of it's swamplands to gain dramatic effect.