Chapter 6: Backup for Brad
Following the stop by SporTrance, Chuck finally had some fresh clean clothes consisting of a cobalt blue Denver Gold basketball jersey along with matching shorts that had gold trim and some blue and white basketball high tops.
In addition to the new clothes he had gathered a few other items from the sporting goods store and then made a trip to the Paradise Plaza maintenance room to craft some more combo weapons.
Now he stood just outside the plaza's doors in Leisure Park looking over to the food court entrance across from him, surrounded by zombies. They must have heard the battle going on inside and were piling against the glass doors in one huge tidal wave of decay, leaving him to wonder how much time Brad had left. He wouldn't know until he cleared them out.
Leisure Park was a large enclosed outdoor space serving as home to a large clock tower in the center, several benches and ponds, flower gardens and a pavilion with picnic tables. On a normal day this looked like some place he would have taken Katey to, a place where he would have expected to kick back and listen to the birds singing while she played soccer with the other kids, maybe see some guy playing Frisbee with his dog, some artistic soul drawing a picture of the clock tower, a family grilling out...just normal mundane occurrences.
Now it was just another open graveyard filled with creatures straight out of a horror movie stumbling around drunkenly looking for their next meal.
"Let's hope this works," Chuck whispered to himself hefting a crude explosive device he crafted from a leftover propane tank and a box of nails. With a mighty 'oomph' he tossed the I.E.D. into an area where a sizable amount of zombies had congregated. Pulling out the pistol Jessie had given him he took careful aim and fired a lone round, resulting in an explosion that sent nails flying in all directions and killed eight zombies in one sitting.
As expected the explosion caught the attention of the other zombies and they started staggering in the direction of the blast.
"Time to move," he told himself stepping onto his newly-acquired skateboard and began pushing himself down along the paved walkway, maneuvering his way around several zombies and even managing to bowl a few over before he drew closer to the food court's outside entrance and put away the board, drawing out a pair of boxing gloves he found in SporTrance, now outfitted with Bowie knives.
"Round 1," he called out running over to a nearby zombie and hacking across its face before driving his 'claws' through another attacker while using his other glove to slice through a third with an overhanded vertical slash.
"Can't waste too much time with these yahoos," he reminded himself as the horde grew and he was forced to charge forth along a narrow path, using a nearby tree to create some space between himself and the zombies, cutting down those who had gotten too close for comfort, his path of destruction concluding with a gory uppercut that took the head off a jaw-less man.
"Finished him," he said aloud, mentally hearing a boxing bell's jarring ring.
He found himself closer to the food court's entrance, finding it surrounded by another group of the living dead. There was no way around them and he was about to reach for a combo weapon he had just crafted, but stopped when he looked to the right of the glass doors and an evil grin crossed his features.
"Well what have we got here?" he asked aloud as he had just happened across a waiting lawnmower, one that looked like it could easily tear another path through.
"Time to have some fun," he said running over and pulling the cord.
The grating din caught the crowd's attention, but just as they were turning to face him Chuck was already mowing over most of them, sending blood and severed limbs flying all over and showering his new clothes with gore. He wanted to keep them coming to him for every one that died meant one less horror in the world. The bloody spectacle continued until the mower ran out of gas and the shredded remnants of forty zombies covered the once pristine grass.
"Damn it, you bastards are messy," the former champ grunted shaking some loose brain matter away from his exposed arms and then pulling one of the gore-covered glass doors open to make his way inside before any more of those freaks could entertain the thought of showing up and making his day worse than it needed to be.
He cautiously entered the food court, appearing devoid of the zombies plaguing it earlier, yet still finding himself on edge as he crept toward the stairs leading to the inner court. It was deathly silent and he felt tempted to call out for Brad wanting to make sure his trip had not been in vain. Before his foot could touch the bottom step he suddenly noticed the shadow in one of the windows of the 'Wild Range' exterior setup and heard the clicking of a gun.
"Shit," Chuck hissed and bolted as a volley of submachine gun fire followed until he dove for cover behind a partition. The motocross champion reached for his gun and listened for movement while creeping towards the corner. Peeking his head out, he was sent scurrying backwards as another volley of automatic fire pelted away at the wooden surface.
Gunfire came from his left and he looked over to see Brad firing a few shots before ducking behind the railing in front of Chris' Fine Foods. When he looked back to see the blond-haired man hiding across from him he could only shake his head in disgust. The ex-champ made a mad dash over and joined him behind the railing.
"Your uh...girlfriend sent me to find you," Chuck spoke as the agent reloaded his gun.
"Who, Jessie? Dammit! OK, we'll have to talk about this later. You know how to use that gun?" he demanded with a white knuckled grip on his own firearm.
"Well...I've never fired at a person!" Chuck shot back, "At least not at a living person," he muttered under his breath.
Brad sighed heavily before replying, "Alright, I'll cover you from here. You need to stick to the shadows. Try to get close to the target, okay?"
"And what am I supposed to do when I get close?" Chuck asked just as Brad popped out to fire a few more shots at their attacker.
"Well the best solution would be to shoot the guy, but if you can't do that then keep him busy dodging your bullets and stay out of trouble. Are you up to it?" Brad asked looking deep into his eyes.
"I'm a lot better with a motorbike, but yeah, I'll give it a shot," the former champ replied, shrugging his shoulders as he found himself talked into another situation there was no backing out of.
"Alright, next time he reloads. I'll lay down a suppressing fire. I'm counting on you. Make your way over there," Brad ordered motioning towards the stairs at the far left-hand side of the room near Teresa's Oven.
"Alright," Chuck muttered readying his pistol.
"1...2...3!" Brad shouted stepping out from behind the railing and opening fire.
The gunman focused his attention on Brad while Chuck ran over to the side stairwell without incident and raised his gun, the shooter ducking out of the way and his bullets sent whizzing harmlessly past the man's head. Undeterred he ran into the dining area and raised his gun to fire again and it was there he finally got a good look at their attacker.
"I see we meet again, my friend," the shooter called out in his thick Latin accent.
It was the same creepy man from the rooftop and he had him locked in the sights of his FN P90.
Chuck barrel rolled out of the way as the mans armor-piercing rounds tore through one of the tables near him before pulling out a pipe bomb and tossing it at his feet.
"Dammit," the former racer grunted as he vaulted over the counter of the Frozen Dreams ice cream stand to avoid the blast, landing hard on his side.
"I'm gonna enjoy killing this fruitcake," he muttered using the counter to pull himself back to his feet. "Jesus Chuck, now you're starting to sound like a psychopath."
He looked up to see the man running back and forth between cover, still exchanging gunfire with Brad, a spray of crimson seen as the man was hit. Chuck pulled himself over the counter and fired a few rounds at the shooter, one of his bullets hitting the man.
"You're finished!" the man shouted stopping to fire another salvo of hot lead, one of his rounds catching Chuck in the side and sending him staggering. Grunting through the pain he found a carton of milk and was preparing to drink it down before the madman reached for another pipe bomb and tossed it at him, sending him ducking into the adjoining Teresa's Oven pizza stand.
Chuck was still smarting from the gunshot as he leaped behind the counter and knocked over the cardboard boxes, each of them containing uncooked pizzas. "I'll be saving you for later," he said scooping them up and then chugging down the milk, waiting a few seconds before he could feel his health fully restored. Before making his way back into the open he noticed a box of baking ingredients and scooped that up as well, a plan developing in his head as he moved along.
He made his way back into the open to find the man standing atop Central Tacos exchanging gunfire with Brad. While they continued their back and forth battle Chuck rounded the exterior wall and used a table to steady himself before climbing to the gunman's level.
The nameless man took notice and fired upon Chuck, who ran along the upper catwalk returning fire until his gun clicked empty. Discarding the emptied pistol he pulled out the baking ingredients and tossed them into the man's face, temporarily blinding him. With his opponent temporarily subdued he pulled out the Defiler (a fire ax and sledgehammer taped together) and gave him a hard strike with the blunt portion knocking him backwards.
"You'll pay for that!" the gunman cried pushing himself back to his feet and delivering a hard roundhouse kick that knocked Chuck backwards and sent him crashing through another wooden table.
The former champ's entire world shook all around him and he once again felt that crippling pain surge throughout his body. Yet as it always was, his indomitable will would not allow him to stay down writhing in pain, especially when he knew there was a maniac nearby looking to blow him to kingdom come. Within seconds he was back on his feet and struggling to steady both his feet and his vision as he watched Brad continue to shoot it out with the madman.
"You're all going to die!" the gunman shouted as Brad's gunfire forced him into cover behind one of the main dining area's walls and reaching for another one of his pipe bombs.
"Not if I can help it!" Chuck shouted running over to Meaty's Burgers and grabbing a container of cooking oil. Mustering all of his strength he tossed it at the shooter and caused him to drop his explosive, which would then detonate at his feet.
Wounded, but not out of the fight, the gunman ran towards a rope hanging from the rafters and grabbed onto it. With a tug of the rope he was pulled up and out of sight.
"He got away," Chuck exclaimed catching his breath, "Who was that, anyway?"
"I don't know. Well, thanks for your help. The name's Brad," the bald man said formally introducing himself.
"I'm Chuck Greene, and right now I'd rather have an explanation than your thanks Brad," he shot back.
Brad shook his head.
"Sorry, I've got nothing to tell you. Look, I don't know what Jessie told you, but as far as I'm concerned we're through working together. So, you go do whatever you have to and leave the rest to us," the man spoke with a dismissive wave.
"Typical government stooge. Always looking to keep the people in the dark," a familiar feminine voice called out.
Chuck and Brad both turned to find Rebecca Chang approaching them with her camcorder in hand.
"Well I've got enough footage recorded and there will be no way you and your P.R. people can spin your way out of this. You might as well come clean," the reporter spoke in her boastful tone.
"Turn that damn thing off!" Brad shouted reaching angrily for her camcorder.
"I don't think he's gonna talk. You might as well go digging elsewhere," Chuck spoke up shaking his head.
A sly smile crossed Rebecca's features, "You don't know your way around these people very well, do you Mr. Greene? You know what they want to know and you'll have them singing like birds."
She then returned her attention to Brad, "You guys are looking for someone here, aren't you?"
The reporter held up her camcorder and rewound the footage back to their time in the Entrance Plaza, stopping when she came to the mysterious old man. When he saw the picture Brad froze in place with his mouth hanging open.
"Who is that? Where did you take that?" he demanded again reaching for the camcorder.
"You help me. I help you," Rebecca said drawing her arm back and shaking the camcorder threatening to drop it.
The agent was backed into a corner.
"Damn!" he bitterly spat walking away in disgust only to stop himself and abruptly turn on his heel.
"You're one hell of a journalist, aren't you Ms. Chang?" he said pointing at the woman, "A boisterous, loudmouthed, hotshot paparazzo with nothing better to do than to go around sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," he said getting in her face.
"What can I say? I try," she spoke with a demure smile, "You have a point?"
Brad sighed in defeat, "You win, both of you. Let's work together."
He took a deep breath before speaking, "Jessie and I are D.H.S. agents and yes, we're looking for the man in that picture."
"You're with homeland security? Is that guy a terrorist or something?" Chuck asked.
"We believe he might know something related to...unscrupulous activities," Brad replied.
"I recorded that footage in the Entrance Plaza. Right near the front door, some place called Everyone Luvs Books," Rebecca spoke.
"The Entrance Plaza? You're sure?" the agent asked.
"Plain as day," Rebecca said switching her camcorder off, "So, do I have your permission to cover this story...or not?" she asked with a playful pout.
"Ugh, fine. C'mon. We have to see if he's still there," Brad said leading the way.
Chuck and Rebecca followed from a safe distance and it was then he looked over to the woman, "Surprised you decided to drop in here of all places. You're gonna have to tell me if you've been digging up anything else around here."
"There really isn't much else at this point aside from a bunch of zombies running around, but like the classic saying goes, you never judge a book by its cover," she said before leaning closer to him, "I seriously think we could be sitting on top of something major here and the zombies are only the tip of the iceberg. I don't know what, but there is something else lurking in the shadows here. If we can get to it, maybe we can find out the cause of this entire outbreak."
"Would be worth finding out if it can prevent any other shit like this from going down in the future," Chuck replied.
The thought made Chuck pale. What if it was possible that some of those zombies could have made their way outside the confines of Willamette? With the way the 'virus,' or whatever it was, spread like wildfire he seriously began to wonder what would happen if this spread to large cities like New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Las Vegas...the possibilities left the former motocross champion's stomach tightening.
"Hopefully we can find out whatever is causing this shit and make sure it doesn't get any further. It's bad enough one small mountain community has to put up with this, but an entire country? Damn," he thought to himself as he and Rebecca approached the doors leading to the Al Fresca Plaza, where Brad had already drawn his pistol and was gunning down several zombies.
"Not exactly my idea of a romantic evening," Rebecca quipped drawing her handgun.
"Unless you find being covered in zombie brains to be romantic," Chuck deadpanned pulling out the Defiler and readying himself for battle.
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Author's Note: My latest installment concludes and probably faster than the last time. As Chuck Greene once said to the burning Leon Bell, "Yeah, you're on fire."
This is something that I normally wouldn't do in my other stories, but given the cartoonish nature of the "Dead Rising" series I found myself getting a little unrealistic with this battle where Chuck is able to be shot and thrown through a table and keep going seconds later and likewise Carlito is able to get up and running after having a bomb detonated at his feet, but then again that game is supposed to be zany and unrealistic since you are able to kill zombies with the most mundane of items, that and being able to pull off some MacGyver-type shit where you can turn a cuddly robotic teddy bear into a killing machine armed with a light machine gun, or being able to rig up a goblin mask so that it can shoot laser beams from its eyes with just a battery!
After all, I'm sure there are some who would question how a photojournalist can save the world from a zombie apocalypse, or be able to suddenly learn wrestling moves at the drop of a hat (unless he was trained by Mike Haggar beforehand!), or be able to take a round from a sniper rifle, be hacked with a machete, run over by a grocery cart fitted with sharp objects or be smacked by a flying bovine carcass and still walk away alive (and actually walk away) in the end, yet Brad and Carlito actually show any damage when they are shot or stabbed in a cinematic sequence.
So yeah, try not to think too much of it if you managed to see Chuck survive worse in future chapters...
Well I think that's everything so as always read and review! This is Metal Harbinger saying SPREAD THE SICKNESS, ONE MIND AT A TIME! \m/