Chapter
1
I watched as the four survivors scrambled for the door of the safehouse I was in. I made the split second decision to kick the iron bar that held the door shut out of the way. I hurriedly grabbed my katana and chainsaw and stepped out of the red door, telling them to shut and lock it behind me.
They must've ran when they saw the first horde. Because that horde followed them and gathered up any other straggler or group it could. Now the entire mall was crawling with the monsterous fiends.
"Another day, another adrenaline pop." I sighed and japped the needle deep into the crook of my elbow. And I instantly felt the adrenaline as I rushed toward the horde.
I laughed maniacally as I spun in circles, cleaving through common infected with my katana, and brutalizing the mutated with the chainsaw.
Then a wail snatched me out of my insanity.
A Witch.
And then I heard thundering footsteps as well as more wailing.
Tank, maybe two or three, and it sounded like four Witches. Lord, what kind of Hell are those sewers to brew this much death and destruction?
I finished off the last common infected and stood up, the exhaustion finally setting in. And in fromt of me was a line of Tanks, almost like a line in an army. And behind them was their more or less leaders, four Witches. And each one was startled and on the offensive.
"Shit." I groaned and dropped the bag of empty adrenaline shots. "This is gonna be rough."
Four weeks earlier...
I hit the practice dummy with the butt of my sword, causing its steel helmet to dent inward. Then with a expert's precision and grace, beheaded the wooden and straw practice dummy. I placed my foot triumphantly on the dummy's disconnected head and sheathed my katana.
"Not bad for a kid. Probably could kill a horde alone in a week at this rate." a voice said from the shadows. And when the owner of the voice stepped out, I managed to get a good look at her.
Parker is a former Army Corporal who was stationed here in Kentucky when the infection hit. Her entire base was transformed seemingly overnight. And in her rage, she killed every single one of her former friends, superiors, and cadets. Not that they weren't trying to do the same. She'd left the base when she'd finally gotten over what she'd done and went into town, where she found me running from a horde with not a single weapon to my name.
To be honest, I thought she was another zombie that's how bloody her military garb was. So I leapt over her, using her shoulders as a way to scale a building quick. And to get away from the horde. But to my surprise, she didn't turn around and start attempting to follow me for a meal, she pulled out a Assault Rifle and started to unload on the horde. Never missing a shot, and with that accuracy, the horde of hundreds was dead in seconds.
I was still struck dumb by her accuracy and by her looks. Her stained nametag read 'Parker'.
Don't judge, I'm a fifteen-year old boy who hasn't seen a living woman with a normal body in months. I mean come on, those Spitters are fuckin' weird. And I can't get close enough to a Witch to see anything. God dammit I'm down bad.
Parker looked up at me and glared for a few seconds, "Is there a safe house up there?" she asked me, snapping me out of my delusions.
I looked around and saw a red door to the far side of the nearly pitch black room. "Yes. But it's dark as shit up here, I can't see any infected."
Parker shouldered her rifle and stuck out her hand, "Pull me up. I've got a light."
I grabbed her hand, which for a ex-military soldier, was rather soft. It was only calloused in places where she'd have contact woth a handle, grip, or a pole. And not like that. Not that I would care...
I heaved and pulled her up into the cracked cement wall and into the dark room I was in. "We should be careful, I think there might be a Witch nearby." I said as I heard small whinpers and wails from the corner near the safe house door.
Parker shoved a sword into my hands, "I can't kill Witches. They're too human." She sat down beside the cracked wall and watched the street below, "I'll keeo your back clear. Go handle her."
Now for you uneducated folks at home, a Witch is a well-rounded infected mutan- What the hell am I saying? She's more of a Bitch than a Witch. She cries and wails in corners until you accidentally startle her, then she slices you to ribbons. There's no possible way to defeat her alone. Much less, with a dull sword.
I glanced back and saw Parker wincing a bit as she held her stomach. She was wounded, somehow. The fact that I caused her wound angered me so much I grabbed the sword and walked confidently toward the sounds of wailing and crying.
But when I reached the corner, I only found a old cassette recorder and a tape inside. The wails and cries were recorded!
"Hey check this out!" I called Parker over.
When she finally stumbles her way over, she looked as curious as I did. "Using the sounds of a Witch to scare away unwanted visitors and infected. Clever." She looked over the cassette player a few times.
Then we heard voices, and we both froze. As stiff as boards, we slowly approached the safe house door.
I put my ear to the cold metal door and listened closely.
"They could help us, you idiot! We can't make it a mile like this!" a girl's voice harshly remarked from behind the door.
"Zoeys right, Francis. We already lost Bill to that horde. And all of us are wounded. We need any help we can get if we want to make it to that island." a tired man's voice grumbled, wincing in pain.
"They might be thieves!! You think of that?!" a annoyed and angry man nearly yelled from directly on the other side of the door.
There came a sigh and a hand touched the iron bar on the other side of the door, "It's a risk we have to take."
I stood back as I heard the bar be taken off and laid to the side.
And when the door swing open, I got a shotgun barrel pointed into my face, "How'd you survive the horde?" a man in a biker's outfit was holding a sawed-off in my face.
I held the katana in my right hand and pointed the tip of the blade at hit manhood, "Put the gun down or I'll make sure you're never pleasuring yourself again."
I heard the woman from before, Zoey I think, stifle a laugh from behind the biker.
With his manhood as stake, he lowered the shotgun and gestured for us to get inside. And once we were both inside, he set the bar over the door and barricaded it with a table.
There were three survivors before us. Zoey, a brunette with a red jacket and some jeans. Francis, a biker with a leather vest and tattoos covering his arms. And Louis, a dark-skinned man that looked like he worked a nine-to-five at a buisness. All in all, they were beat the fuck up. Francis' vest was stained red, which is nuts considering its leather and black. Zoey's jacket was torn to shreds and her hair was a mess. And Louis looked ready to dive headfirst into a horde and be done with it.
Meanwhile I looked normal, excluding the blood stains on my gray JROTC hoodie. My black shoes were a bit muddy, but besides that I was remarkably clean for someone who was running from a horde seconds before.
Parker looked more menacing than Francis on so many levels. Her glare made Francis nearly drop his sawed-off on his toe. And her bloodied military garb didn't much help her case.
"You have any clue what's going on?" Louis sighed and laid back on the sleeping bag he'd set up on the floor.
Parker shook her head, "I was too busy killing the entire base so I didn't get a chance to look for anything. Not that they would have anything. Military is just told to go somewhere and we follow orders."
"Like firing into a group of civilians?" Zoey growled, clearly upset at the fact Parker was once in the military.
"We do what we're told. Maybe if they weren't all infected to high heaven we wouldn't have had to-" Parker snapped back.
"That's enough! You guys wanted them in here, so I let them in. But if you keep treating her like a monster then I'll have to kick them both out." Francis slammed his hand into the cement wall, leaving a small crack. He took a deep breath, "I won't disagree, we will need you two in the next few days. If you're willing to stay and help us get to the infection free zone, be my guest. But as soon as we get to the island y'all can go y'all's separate ways. Either way, we have food and supplies on the idland and you'll be rewarded."
Parker looked at me, "Any objections pipsqueak?"
I glared at her, then laughed, "None at all. More the merrier. And more the less work we have to do killing the infected." I held out the sword for Parker to take it back.
She gently pushed it back, "It's cool. I've got plenty of weapons." And she wasn't wrong. She had an assault rifle, a hunting rifle, a genade launcher, how the hell she got that I have no clue, and two fire axes on her back.
When the others got a good look at her arsenal, they were just as stunned.
Zoey swallowed hard and held out her hand, which was shaking slightly. "I'm sorry I said what I said. Friends?"
Parker looked at her bloody hand and made a decision, "I don't know about pipsqueak here, but I'm here to survive. Not make friends." She sat down beside the red door and pulled a sealed bag labeled 'MRE' from her backpack. She tore into the meal and used a small bottle of water to ready the heater for use.
I shrugged, "I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just here." I walked over to a small corner and set my bag down, taking off my hoodie as well.
The others were looking at me like I'd just said some racist joke or something like that.
I returned their looks and asked, "Uh... what's wrong? Did I say something?"
Louis sat up and looked at me like I was a weird critter, "Why are you so built? You're what? Twelve?"
"Fifteen" I corrected, "Well I mean, I'm just small so the muscles are more pronounced. I'm not that strong."
Parker looked up and asked me, clearly as astonished as the others, "What's your mile time?"
I racked my brain for the last time I ran a mile and tracked it. "Uh...three minutes. Not that great."
Parker's spoon fell out of her mouth as she said, " 'Not that good' for a Olympic Gold Medal winner! You realize the average for a fifteen-year old male is six-and-a-half minutes right?"
I cocked my head as I thought about the last time I was outran. Which was back in third-grade. "Fair point I guess. I just run a lot. You saw me running from that horde."
"You were outrunning a fucking Smoker's tongue and a Hunter's pounce! Thos things are mutated to be able to grab prey in a heartbeat. Yet I saw a Hunter falling flat on it's face and getting the Smoker's tongue tangled over thirty feet behind you!" Parker exclaimed, setting her Chili and Macaroni MRE to the side.
Dammit I'm hungry now...
I shrugged. Pulling out my own MRE labeled 'Marinara Sauce and Meatballs'. I tore the bag open and pulled out it's contents. Sealed packet of crackers, lucky for me some Skittles, a Chocolate Protein drink mix, the main packet of Marinara and Meatballs, and of course the Chocolate-Chip Cookie. Good eatin'.
Then I looked up and saw the other three survivors looking at our food with hungry eyes. But they didn't want to ask for any.
I sighed, "If you want some just ask. I've got a entire crate of 'em back where I relax. As well as running water and electricity, courtesy of a creek beside my house." I tossed my bag toward Francis and he caught it with one hand, "Eat all y'all like. But be ready to move out tomorrow."
I dumped some water from Parker's bottle into my heater pouch and slid my food, the Skittles, and of course, the Chocolate-Chip Cookie.
"Oh yeah. Introductions. Louis." Louis said while struggling to tear into a Chicken Noodle, one of my personal favorites.
"Zoey." the brunette said while biting and tearing into a Chili Burrito, which is a 'meh'.
Francis had already sank his teeth into a packet of crackers and said, spitting crackers everywhere, "Francis."
"Parker. Ignore my rank. I was getting discharged as the infection hit my base. I just like having it on there." She poked the rank patch on her ACU.
I raised a finger as I said, swallowing my bite of crackers, "Call me Stroke. Cause all it takes is one."
Everyone laughed at my joke. Yay!
