Chapter 14: Defenseless Self

Chapter 14: Defenseless Self

Phillips is running down the driveway at top speed cocking the baseball bat back with both hands. He swings with all his might the blow sailing high over Michael’s head missing him by inches. The wooden bat connects with the bone in the bridge of the attacker’s nose. The savage blow causes the man to release Michael catapulting him almost head over heals in the air. Before the growling man even hits the ground Phillips is standing over him pounding the man like a tent spike. He beats the man’s face until it is no longer recognized as years of bullying and torment bubble to the surface. Tears stream down from Phillips eyes as he tosses the bloodied bat into the street running to Michael’s aid. “Its ok baby I’m here.” Phillip stammers kneeling down next to Michael. Phillip places his arms under Michael lifting him up. He hobbles into the house barley able to support Michael’s weight. Phillips sets a sobbing Michael down on their plush living room couch. “Wait here and don’t move Mikey.” Phillip implores running back and slamming the door locking the dead bolt. He then leans a chair under the knob. On the way back to Phillip frantically runs into the bathroom grabbing the first aid kit. Back at the couch Phillip soothes Michael as best he can. Michael writhes about the couch in pain. Phillip helps Michael pull off his shirt “That son of a bitch killed Buster.” Michael wails rocking back and forth. “I know Michael I know now be still.” Phillip winces laying his eyes on the bite for the first time. A crescent ring of teeth marks punctuated by bloody holes line the front and back of Michaels neck. “Lay still Michael dammit you’re gushing blood everywhere.” Phillip pours peroxide over the wounds dabbing at the spots with a sterile cotton ball. Phillip bandages Michael’s neck before sitting on the couch with him He nestles Michael’s head in his lap wiping his forehead with a wet towel. “How do you feel?” Phillip asks a red eyed Michael. “It hurts bad honey but not worse than loosing Buster.” Phillip runs his fingers through Michael’s hair. “Michael you should go to the ER.” Michael snorts at Phillips suggestion. “I’m on vacation Phillip I’m not going with in a mile of St. George’s.” He chuckles. Phillip looks down at Michael “Silly we live less than a mile from the damn hospital as it is.” The couple shares their first laugh since the day had gone awry. “Phillip run upstairs in our bathroom and grab me my pain meds please?” Phillip smiles “Sure.”

After taking two of the prescription narcotics Michael sleeps peacefully on the couch. Phillip spends the day roaming through the house he finds himself sitting at the windows staring at the man’s body next to Busters. No one has been out all day other than the man and Michael he hasn’t seen another living soul all day. Sitting in his favorite chair Phillip takes pleasure in the sun setting outside the orange hue in the sky reminds him of a burning flame. The house is cast in darkness when Michael finally wakes from his drug induced slumber. “Hey babe how do you feel?” Phillip asks flicking on his flashlight. “Fine babe fine.” Michael responds walking up behind his mate placing a hand on the back of Phillip’s neck. Phillip senses his head being pulled gently back he notices how cold Michael’s hands are. Phillip purses his lips for a kiss closing his eyes as Michael’s face crosses his flashlight beam. Phillip can’t comprehend the black splotches on Michael’s face but it’s too late. By the time Phillip realizes something is wrong Michael’s head is arching back with a chunk of his husbands’ throat clenched between his teeth. Michael holds onto the back of Phillips neck as blood squirts out. Pumping in warm streams Phillip’s body spasms uncontrollably to his lovers new found delight. The flashlight hit’s the floor rattling into a corner. Michael pulls his lover to the floor latching his teeth onto Phillip’s still warm cheek. He chews flesh unsure as to why he has heartlessly killed the man he’d love for the past ten years. This morning he was inconsolable over the death of his beloved dog while tonight he feasts upon the only person he has ever loved. Kneeling in a great dark slick of cooling sticky blood Michael finds himself closer to Phillip than he’s ever been in life. Michael feels all the hate he’s ever had well up from the depths of his soul. Phillip’s body has gone cold in the still night air the taste has changed. What was once sweet and filling now tastes like rotted pork in his mouth. He spit’s a wad of meat into the darkness standing up he hears waves of gunfire in the distance. Michael moves slowly to the door oddly enough he notices how easy it is to move in the darkened house. Everything is outlined in orange making it easy to avoid obstacles. Leaning looking out the door he becomes fixated on the waves of orange over head entranced. Michael is thumped out of his trance by a figure at his back. It’s Phillip minus his throat and some face meat. Moaning he bumps into Michaels back again “easy lover calm down.” The gunshots have subsided when Michael strolls from his home down the driveway with a purpose. Philip shuffles on unsteady feet out on to the lawn he wanders aimlessly off down the street. “So this is how it ends huh lover?” he watches the wandering corpse of his mate shuffle down the street. A sound reaches out to Michael’s tainted ears metal meeting metal. He sprints down the block turning the corner spotting a big green military transport crumpled into the rear of a massive pile up. “Hmmmmm soups on.” Michael smirks as the orange in his eyes dancing fiendishly. He takes off jogging for the crashed military vehicle.

With a bang we have brought the saga of Phillip and Michael to a brutal end.The Living Dark continues to take its toll on humanity.

Come back the week of November 24th for our next chapter.


https://www.facebook.com/TheLivingDark



Sincerly:

The Living Dark

 

Chapter 13: Self Defense

Chapter 13: Self Defense

The sun is pestering the sky to the east in the quite suburban neighborhood when two men hear the garbage can tumble over outside the house they share. "Phillip did you hear that?" a blond haired man asks the man stirring in his arms. "What?" Phillip responds groggily "I didn't hear anything." At the base of the bed a tan Yorkshire terrier leaps into the bed and begins a chorus of "yips." This high pitched ultra annoying noise on a larger dog would be considered a bark. He sits up further rousing his mate Phillip by poking him in the chest. "What Michael what is it honey?" Phillip asks mildly perturbed. "Buster shut the hell up jeez." Phillip sits up swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. "Phillip do not yell at Buster it makes him nervous.” chides Michael. "Phillip I heard something out front sounded like the garbage can being flipped over. With the power out since yesterday who knows what type of roving bands of hooligans there are out and about." Phillip stands stretching to his full height before grabbing a flashlight off the nightstand on his side of the bed. Michael moves to the window peering down and out he sees a man at the end of their driveway. His back is to the house as he sways in place. "There's a man in the driveway he's dressed all in black. Phillip he's knocking over our garbage cans and just standing there." Michael kneads his hands together nervously as Phillip comes over pulling on a blue rob to stand behind him. "Phillip it's just like Lubbock all over again." Phillip listens to Michael whimper. He gently rubs Michael’s shoulders attempting to console him.

The truth is Phillip is still shaken himself by the time they spent living in Lubbock Texas. They had moved there for his job with United Global one of the largest Department of Defense contracts in the United States. Two dead dogs and a Molotov cocktail through the window later Michael and he had fled the small community. The pair had no illusions about Texas being a Utopian society where two gay men could come and go as they pleased free of harassment but they were not prepared for the hostilities they'd encountered either. "Michael look we will be ok. You stayed up last night searching the Internet for all these rampant zombie conspiracies now that the power is out didn't you?" Michael stared bashfully at the floor. "We are safe the door is locked let's try and phone the cops while I still have some battery left on my phone." Phillip moves back to the night stand grabbing his Smartphone only to find it is black and lifeless. He cocks a disapproving eyebrow in Michael's direction. "Sorry hon my battery died at like one am." Phillips sighs deeply clicking on the flashing "Let's go down stairs it will be daylight soon. Then we will see if mister funny man is willing to show his face in the light." He points to a baseball bat leaning by the door. "Grab that on the way down Michael." The two men make their way down stairs in the opulent house. Phillips flashlight beam guides them through their powerless home. Phillip walks barefooted into the kitchen taking two bottles of iced coffee from the refrigerator. Michael measures his footsteps carefully carrying Buster in his arms "Here it's warm but its coffee and who are we kidding that's all that really matters." The two men share a laugh as they sip at the bottled store brought coffee product. From outside another crash startles the pair and sets the dog to pseudo barking once more. Michael puts Buster down trying to sooth him. Phillip takes the bat from his hand setting his coffee down. He walks briskly through the house gritting his teeth. "Now Phillip honey your temper." Michael calls trotting behind his lover. Phillip boldly goes to the bay windows at the front of the house pulling the shade back leaning the bat against the wall. Michael peeks over his shoulder together they watch the man stumble to his feet having knocked down the remaining garbage can and topple their mail box. Buster stands on the window ledge among the house plants growling. Phillip feels anger seize up his breathing he'd been afraid of people like this like his older brother Donnie his whole life. He wouldn't cower to "bigots like this anymore" he thinks to himself. "Michael as long as he stays outside and we are safe leave him be. I don't know if we can reach the police or now with all the power down but that might make someone like him ...." Phillip breaks off pointing an accusing finger to the man at the end of the driveway. "... Feel empowered." Michael nods from over his shoulder.

Content to pay the man no mind the pair of men head for the kitchen once more. A symphony of noise erupts from outside. Buster scampers with righteous indignation back into the living room out into the hallway and out the unlocked pet door. “Buster.” Michael screams without fear or hesitation he runs after the dog. “Michael I told you to lock that damn door.” Phillip yells pursing Michael as he races out the door intent on rescuing Buster from the grimy man. Phillip stops going back to grabs the baseball bat. As he comes out on to the small stoop Phillips sees Buster yapping and snipping at the man’s leg. Michael thinks the man is drunk as he sways greasy matted black hair covering his face. He moves towards the dog in clumsy steps but Buster doesn’t back down. Michael is half way down the paved driveway pleading for Buster to come to him. “Michael get back her now!” Phillip shouts clutching the bat hesitating in the doorway. The man in filthy black garbage stained clothes lunges for Buster at the exact moment the dog jumps at him. The man pulls the struggling dog to his mouth and crunches down on Buster’s tiny mid section. The toy dog squeals in agony as its chest cavity is torn open. Michael propels himself crying aloud at the dog’s attacker yelling “Buster.” Michael throws a blow connecting with the man’s chin staggering him backwards. The disheveled man drops the twitching dog’s carcass turning his attention to Michael. “You bastard.” Michael continues to assault the man who shows no sign that the blows do any damage to him at all. Ignoring a solid right hook the man catches Michael by his robe pulling him forward sinking his blood covered teeth into Michael’s exposed pale shoulder.

In Chapter 13 of The Living Dark we find ourselves on a side mission of sorts. We drop in on two characters who aren't in out main story arch. On the morning of the first day after the power outage we find two guy unaware of the danger they face. Phillip and Michael are a couple who live some in the general vicinity of The James and St. George's Hospital. The men find themselves cast in a familiar light believing the man in their driveway is an intolerant bigot set on making their lives in their new home miserable. Unfortunately they couldn't be further from the truth and the price for their mistake may just be lethal.

Come back the week of November 18th to find out who The Living Dark claims next.

https://www.facebook.com/TheLivingDark


Sincerely:

The Living Dark

 

Chapter 12: To Start A Long Dark Night

 

Chapter 12: To Start A Long Dark Night

 

 

  “Dear God Lockett what do we do?!” Carson stammers. The pair stares at the outdoor morgue area they’ve charged with guarding. PFC Lockett turns deliberately to face Medina following her frozen unit mate’s stare back over the still landscape. A short stocky man burst forth from the olive green command tent. He’s flanked by half a dozen subordinates all double timing to keep pace with him. Stopping briefly to take stock and evaluate the situation. He waves a soldier with a radio pack strapped to his back over to him. “This is Colonel Walker. I want this entire operation shut down now.” Suddenly every statuesque soldier springs into action as the man makes his way directly to the trio standing slack jawed in Bunker Two. “Get a line formed here…” he motions as he walks. “I want everyone still upright and mobile on this side behind my fire line.” There is no hesitation as Colonel Walker’s subordinate begins to hustle hospital staff, civilians and medical staff away from the prone bodies strewn everywhere. “You!” he points to Carson “Get on that M-60 and smash everything in there now.” Jabbing a finger towards the bustling contained mass of dead bodies. “You two unless you’re here to model cover his flanks.” Somewhere in in the distance a scream erupts. The once motionless corpses on the ground begin popping up like diseased jumping beans. They take down any living being close enough to pounce on. Gurgling screams fill the cool night air from one end of the compound to the other. Colonel Walker slaps on his helmet sprinting back to his men. “Open fire!” he commands. The night gives way to symphony of agony and automatic gunfire.

 

 

In Bunker Two Carson ratchets the heavy mounted machine gun as Medina and Lockett take up positions on either side of him. Squeezing the weapons trigger Carson unleashes the first teeth chattering volley of bullets. He begins to methodically sweep back and forth shredding the creatures as they slowly peel themselves from the stained white body bags. “Why aren’t these moving like those out there?” Medina asks leaning behind Carson while spent shells clatter off her helmet. “I’m not even sure what ‘these’ things are Medina.” Lockett shouts to be heard. With a “whoosh” Carson’s barrage hit’s the tires on a trailer in the rear of the morgue area. The large grey cargo container pitches forward and dozens of wobbly legged figures spill out. “Oh crap!” the boy on the mounted gun hollers to no one in particular. He trains his fire on the horde pouring to the ground. The bullets tear through the soft infected flesh with ease. Carson falls into a rhythm his aim gives way to tunnel vision. Lockett realizes Carson is focused on the occupants of the trailer. She taps Medina on her shoulder with a two fingered motion to her eyes signaling outward. Lockett instructs Medina to cover the left of the Bunker. PFC Sara Lockett picks up her weapon and draws down on the stragglers dragging themselves towards the soldiers in the Bunker. Lockett leans to the side lobbing anti personnel grenade at a cluster of advancing corpses. “Grenade! “ Lockett shouts cupping her hands to her mount. The blast clears the immediate area before them allowing Lockett to pick her targets as they shuffle for the only opening in the enclosed morgue. The thunder of the sixty cal drowns out the sounds of the battle behind the unit.

 

 

　

Carson vomits a shrill scream as he spins to the ground under the weight of the infected woman who has vaulted onto his back. The tripod mounted gun spits bullets as it twirls about detonating the rear tires on the APC parked in front of the Bunker. “Boy I want ……” the enraged infected woman snarls. Medina pistons the butt of her rifle into the back of the woman’s skull until her orange flecked eyes go dim. “Are you ok?!” she asks helping the strapping boy to his feet. “Yeah .. Yeah.” He pants swaying on his feet placing his helmet back atop his head with the sound of the big gun ringing in their ears. The unit stops to take stock of what going around them. “There’s not as much gunfire as there was before.” Medina tells Carson who taps Lockett on the shoulder. “What!?” she rises up never taking her eyes of the straggling dead bodies moving hungrily in their direction. “Did everybody retreat?” Carson looks about. “Either that….” Lockett interjects popping of a round dropping a corpse. “….or they’re dead. Either way we’re screwed.” While the morgue area is relatively clear of the dead. The same can’t be said for the grounds of St. George’s. What had been a setting of organized chaos when the fight began is now the scene of a massacre. Everywhere groups of infected hover over dead or dying victims. As slower undead amble about fighting over scraps like scavenging hyenas. “We have to fallback Lockett.” Carson contemplates aloud. “Fallback to where?” she exclaims “our backs are up against a wall and everything in front of us is dead.” They all lock eyes confusion sets in about what to do next. “Now Carson hand me your weapon and unhitch that M-60.” The tall soldier does as instructed while Lockett slings his rifle over her shoulder. Medina shushes the pair pointing out in the distance. “Some of them are talking to each other.” She whispers.

 

 

　

“Look I got an idea.” Medina calls to them as they all take a knee. “We need to blow that sandbag wall.” She directs their attention to a sandbag wall forming the outer perimeter of Bravo Company’s command tent. “Next we need to hit that gated abutment there.” In the distance they all stare at the gate that was cordoned off as the initial checkpoint of the hospital. “Why go that route and draw attention to ourselves.” Carson mumbles perplexed at the overly complicated plan. Pointing over the sandbags Medina shows him. “We get in the APC and drive over everyone and everything in our way.” Carson shakes his head “Medina you’re crazy girl. That APC is two tires short thanks to that thing that tried to eat me earlier. Lockett smiles from under her helmet “Carson even missing four wheels we’ll get farther in that tuna can than we will on foot. All we have to do is get far enough from her to commandeer another vehicle.” Carson cocks an eyebrow “fine ladies on three.” The two young female soldiers each unhook a grenade from the straps on their chests. “Lockett …” Medina begins. “You go for the first wall and I will toss for the gate.” Lockett signals her agreement “On three people.” She does feel the fetid mouth inches from her cheek until it crunches spent shells under its mangled feet as it moans in frustration. Spinning to the ground she unsheathes her combat knife in one motion. With two hands Lockett drives the polished blade under the dead mans chin puncturing his brain pan. “Something smells delicious.” a gore covered man saunters around the front of the APC. Black blood soaked bandages dangle in tatters from his neck. He tosses a mysterious slab of meat to the ground after ripping a chunk free with his teeth and chewing it greedily. “Mmmm yeah it’s you.” He turns shouting “Over her folks we got a couple tender virgins to sacrifice!” Medina hefts her weapon up as the infected man turns back to face her. With a growl he draws back and she fires. A single round from the M-4 plows through the bridge of his nose dropping the angry corpse in place. Medina Carson and Lockett stand up from behind their barricade. There’s no counting the number of aggressors charging their position. “Three…” Medina says softly.

 

 

Lockett hurls her grenade above the horde. It lands as they vault over the sandbags then explodes the infected don’t break stride. Carson cuts loose with the M-60 mowing down the first wave of infected hurtling full speed at them. “Medina you climb up and pop the rear hatch.” Lockett takes up a position dropping to one knee next to Carson behind the APC. Carson works the M-60 standing prone will pivoting at the waist sweeping from side to side he mows down the brunt of the invading dead horde. Lockett is there strictly to cover Carson and clean up runner that make it through the teeth of the M-60’s assault. They measure their shots as Medina crests the top of the huge military transport. Medina feels the panic setting in but she follows through on her mission. She flips the hatch open drawing in a chilling breath seeing the living dead wave about to break upon them. From one knee atop the military vehicle Medina tosses the grenade in the direction of the main gate. Without hesitating she flips the cumbersome hatch and climbs in closing the hatch behind her. Medina lands inside the cramped confines stripping off her pack. She moves through to the driver’s seat. Medina mashes down the APC’s black rubberized ignition button the powerful diesel engine burps to life. With her opposite hand she yanks down the level marked “rear hatch.” The huge rear hatch begins to descend with a metallic whine. “Get in!” Medina screams at her unit mates backs. She can see how close the infected are now. For the first time since this began PFC Carlita Medina is afraid. Carson is busy clubbing a duo of crazies with the empty M-60. He leaps up the open ramp then reaches forward securing the back straps of Lockett’s fatigues. He drags Sara Lockett into the cramped interior of the APC both falling backwards. “Close it …. Close it now Medina” Carson yelps. Medina jams the switch back into the close position. Dozens of hands paw at the closing door as the screams and howls continue. Severed hands soon plop down wetly to the floor inside the cabin putrid severed digits and hands litter the compartment. Before the door can close completely a screeching woman twist her damaged body inside the opening narrowly avoiding being crushed by the hydraulic door. She lunges for the downed soldiers as a deafening shot rings out in the sealed transport. The impact slams into the infected woman’s shoulder but doesn’t slow her. The second shot lodges in the ghoul’s eye socket putting her down for good. The pair of soldiers huddled on the floor peer up at their comrade in arms Carlita Medina holds a shaky smoking sidearm. “Hold on.” she yells over her shoulder diving into the driver’s seat. The beast of a vehicle lurches onward as it is battered from the outside. Medina takes the crippled APC over what’s left of the sandbag barrier it bounces violently. Once they a hit relatively clear path she guns the powerful engine getting as much momentum behind the armored carrier as possible. “We’re headed for the main gate people.” Medina wrestles with the wide steering wheel. Lockett and Carson grab hold of the straps on the wall. “Don’t stop Medina hit it hard!” the engine growls louder as the APC picks up speed. They hit the gate and blow through it cleanly finding them on a clear open road. The infected sprinters fall further behind the speeding transport even as it spits out rubber from the shredded tires. They ride on as what began as a low grinding noise becomes a wobbling clang. They find themselves near a clogged highway on ramp when the brakes go out. Medina attempts to slow the APC by swerving it across the road. “Uhhh guys we got no brakes…” Medina calls from the front. “We’re gonna crash…” she announces and the transport smashes into the rear vehicles of a massive pileup.

 

 

 

 

Well better late than never Chapter 12 finds our trio of soldiers Lockett, Medina and Carson fighting for their lives. The situation at St. George''s hospital had gone from bad to massacre before our troops could even make a move. So the three young soldiers had to fight their way out of the killing  grounds of the Military encampment. They now find now find themselves in a stalled APC on a congested pileup near a blocked highway.

 

Comeback the week of November 11th find find out what happens next in The Living Dark.

 

Sincerely:

 

The Living Dark

 

 

https://www.facebook.com/TheLivingDark

 

Happy Halloween

Zombob's Zombie News and Reviews: LADIES & GENTLEMEN, WE HAVE A WINNER!!A while ba...

Zombob's Zombie News and Reviews: LADIES & GENTLEMEN, WE HAVE A WINNER!!

A while ba...: LADIES & GENTLEMEN, WE HAVE A WINNER!! A while back, in celebration of my blog's 1000th post, I decided to have a contest/challenge. The...


Hey drop by and read the new story I wrote for this contest it's called "The Day after Dawn" about what happened immediately after the end of Dawn of The Dead 78.

Chapter 11: Meanwhile at St. George's

Chapter 11: Meanwhile at St. George’s


"PFC Lockett" a large square jawed man in a dusty desert camouflage patterned uniform bellows. In a blur the young private appears before her commanding officer. In the grand military tradition the young woman was almost indistinguishable as a female in her gear. "Sir Yes Staff Sergeant Sir!" she responds as she had been trained standing bolt upright saluting the large man with the brown buzz cut hair. "You, Carson and Medina report to Bunker Two STAT! Relive that team and have them report back to the command tent." The girl snaps her salute back up "Sir Yes Sir!" Turning Private First Class Sara Lockett hustles double time past two soldiers flanking her. A large well built young man whose eyes are so grey they almost appear to sparkle in the mid day sunlight. His name tag reads "Carson" in black letters. The last of the trio is a short stocky Hispanic soldier with "Medina" emblazoned on her gear. They both fall in line behind Lockett keeping pace with her. They move in well rehearsed patterns through the haphazardly placed obstacles. In the act unfolding around them they are but bit players. This would appear odd at best in the days before the sun lashed the earth knocking out all the running electric. St. George's Hospital dominates the landscape a sprawling cinderblock grey building. Which stands three stories high and runs on for almost a full square city block and right now the Army controls every aspect of it. Large armored personnel carriers sit strategically parked between sandbagged bunkers most of which sport heavy mounted belt fed machine guns. Hastily erected fences cordoned off areas blocking access points that are monitored by well armed soldiers.


Sara Lockett dodges around people as she goes her unit mates tight on her heels. There were long lines of people waiting to go through the various field triages the military had put in place. Only the most serious of cases are allowed into the hospital which was running on minimal power provided by several huge generators affixed to guarded military flatbed trucks. Sara dips to her left deftly avoiding a blonde man wearing jogging attire nursing a wounded arm wrapped in a bed sheet. Carson however wasn't as quick on his feet he was more of a bulldozer plowing headlong into the man. The smaller man bounces off Carson stumbling right into Medina who catches him keeping the smaller man from landing face first on the concrete. "Sir you ok?" She asks the man steadying him with her free arm as she keeps her Black M4 pointed at the ground with her free hand. "Yes..." the man answers in a daze. “I ... I just need to see a doctor." he holds his arm up as if to bolster his claim. Medina glances to Lockett who steps forward. "Sir is that your only injury?" "Yes it is." he replies she then takes him firmly by his uninjured elbow guiding him to a long line of people awaiting treatment. Locket places the man at the end of the line. "Sir this is where you need to wait for treatment for non life threatening injuries." The man peers down the long line before returning his gaze to the brown skinned female soldier. "This is a long line Ma'am." he tells her. Lockett turns scanning up and down the line seeing approximately two hundred people in similar condition. "Yes it is Sir it is a very long line." she relays flatly to the man. Turning on her combat boot covered heels "Carson, Medina on me let’s move double time!” As they trot away from the man Carson calls to Lockett. "When did you get to be all business Lockett?" Approaching their destination "I've always been all business Carson. It's just never been any your business." She yells over her shoulder. The trio chuckles for a second but snap back to the task at hand as they reach Bunker Two.


They find themselves relieving another trio of soldiers possibly no older than they are. “Staff Sergeant wants you back at Command STAT…….” Looking down at her fellow soldiers name tag “…Angelo. “ Sara tells the young man leaning on the mounted machine gun in the nest of sandbags. Upon hearing the command the other to men in the bunker hastily grab their gear and muster up behind the lanky solider. “I need a status report.” Lockett tells Angelo. Speaking with a decidedly thick New York accent Angelo appears to teeter under the weight of his pack smirking. “Nothing for me to tell you Lockett when you watch the dead makes it for a slow ass day.” He begins pointing to his left all heads pivot. “This here is our makeshift morgue.” In the fenced area there are rows of neatly arraigned plump cocoon like white bio-hazard body bags bearing the CDC logo. “The white body bags with the CDC logo are not to be contacted by anyone not bearing authorization from command. They’ll be by to get those in the morning.” He leaps over the four foot high sand bag wall standing before a locked gate. “Nobody gets in or out of here without hospital authorization. We aren’t turning any remains over to any family members or funeral homes. All remains not designated for the CDC will be locked in one of the refrigerated semi trailers all the way in the rear.” Sara Lockett cranes her neck in the extreme rear of the guarded area she sees a row of about fifteen trailers. “Lockett you guys sole responsibility is control of the morgue area. Bunker One ….” Angelo motions with a slender finger directly across from Bunker Two at the hub of activity. They all have to step to the left to peer around a huge olive green armored personnel carrier. Bunker One is a hive of activity easily ten times the size of the meager accommodations Lockett and her compatriots were responsible for. “Bravo Company is responsible for everything else guys so stay out of their way. They are focused on peace keeping and controlling the flow of civvies in and out of the area and its nuts I tell ya!” Sara turns looking over the well organized Company of soldiers “How many?” She inquires hooking a thumb in Bunker One’s general direction. Angelo hunches his thin shoulders. “Roughly two hundred at last count” A bald husky soldier interjects from behind Angelo. “Well we’ll see you in twelve hours.” Angelo says as he and his troop double time it back to Command.


After a brief game of paper rock scissors Carson draws first watch. Lockett sits at his side her helmet off enjoying the early afternoon sunlight resting on the horseshoe shaped ring of sandbags. Medina is snoring softly her helmet over her eyes. She rests peacefully her back against the brick that forms the outer wall of the massive hospital. Carson stands with his rifle slug across his broad chest. Sara notices how imposing the boy’s physique is as he cast a shadow over her. “Hey Carson….” she gets his attention. He looks down to her. “How’d you come from Sheep Skin Montana to the military?” His smile is almost as obvious as the cherry red blush on his cheeks. “Lockett come on why you gotta bust my ass like that?” He chuckles before correcting her “It’s Sheep Creek Montana.” The pair of young soldiers gazes back out across the organized chaos surrounding them. “I tell you Lockett there aint much to do else in a town of three hundred forty two people after high school. I guess I just wanted to go some place I’d never been and see some folks I didn’t know.” He peaks back at Lockett noticing how pretty she is even in unisex Army fatigues. Smiling back at him “You just wanted to kiss some girls that weren’t your cousins.” She jabs at him playfully. They both giggle “and you?” Carson asks. Sara Lockett stares of at the cloudless sky past Carson. “Same as you I guess…” a smile touches the corners of her mouth. “…eeeeeeeexcept the part about kissing cousins.” Carson raises a playful eyebrow in her direction. “I come from a rather rough part of the south side of Chicago. When you’re a teen life has a pretty simple pattern where I’m from. If you’re a guy it’s join a gang, make a few babies, go to jail and or get murdered. Now girls on the other hand it goes bad relationship, pregnancy, drop out of school rinse and repeat then rinse and repeat.” Her stare comes back down to Carson only find out he is regarding her with a flirtatious eye. They pass the next few hours chatting then changing out post positions.


Lockett finds herself nodding peacefully in the bunkers rear. Medina takes point while Carson props his big feet up on the sandbag wall. “Lockett ……” she becomes vaguely aware of her name being shouted repeatedly. She stirs hoping to fall back asleep. “Lockett …” she is violently jerked from her sleep. “Whaa …” she mummers groggily to herself mistakenly believing her dad is attempting to wake her for school. “Lockett get up now have got a real problem!” Carson yells pulling her up. Lockett’s helmet falls from her face and clangs to the ground. She notices it is now night twilight to be exact. The sky has a fading line of sun at the horizon and vivid orange bands of Aurora twist across the sky like colored smoke. Blocking the rest of her view is Carson. His eyes are so wide they appear round like a Japanese cartoon characters. He’s panicking his skin is almost devoid of any color. “Get up Lockett!” he shouts pulling her to her feet. The image that greets Lockett’s eyes shocks her awake on this mild night like a slap to the face. Everyone is still as if the world is holding its collective breath. For so many people to go suddenly silent is biblically unnerving. She scans the scene there are people laying everywhere as if they dropped where they stood. Medical and hospital staff along with hundreds of soldiers and uninjured civilians mill about dumbfounded. Almost every person in line to be treated or who had some type of wound where blood had been drawn lay where they fell. Dead people litter the ground their eyes open reflecting the eerie glow of orange cascading across the sky. Medics and hospital staff alike attempt to rouse the stricken victims around them to no avail. A loud clap startles everyone as the exterior mounted generators kick on and bathe the surreal scene in an artificial white light. PFC Sara Lockett catches movement out of the corner of her eye. At first she just thinks its Medina shivering uncontrollably to her right but it’s not. Lockett pushes past her comrade in arms stepping between the girl and the mounted machine gun. She begins to shake now slowly placing a trembling hand on Carson’s broad shoulder. She turns his head with her left hand to the right afraid to speak but then utters the only words that come mind. “Jesus Christ…” disbelief isn’t an adequate enough word to describe the sight they behold. Carson falls backwards tripping over his own feet and scrambles back up right. The once still morgue area is a sea of movement and noise. Inside the packed trailers “bangs and booms” echo like bottled thunder. From one end of the fenced in “morgue” to the other white sterile body bags ungulate across the pavement like giant maggots rolling about. Every single one shows signs of something clumsily attempting to free itself from within.


  Chapter 11 is now a reality. We find ourselves meeting a new groups of chracters in The Living Dark universe. Three young soldiers Sara Lockett, Colt Carson and Carlita Medina. They are down at St. George's hospital and they even bump into an old friend of the James Family Carl Fullerton. The trio is guarding the morgue when night falls. Suddenly things don't look so goo for them. Come back the week of October 28th to see what happens to "new recurits."


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Sincerly The Living Dark

Welcome everybody to the Zombies Everywhere Zombie Blog Walk Tour 2012.Come and tour zombie themed blogs from across the web and follow and enjoy! The Living Dark <!!! START POST CODE !!!> > > Zombies Everywhere >
> [Retro-Zombie] >
> Halloween Blues >
> The Southern Northerner >
> Martha's Journey >
> Annie Walls >
> GingerRead Review >
> App'y Talk >
> Kweeny Todd >
> Jenny's House of Horrors >
> Bubba's Place >
> Fictional Candy >
> herding cats & burning soup >
> Author Sherry Soule Blog >
> Paranormal research Group Blog >
> Adult Urban Fantasy by Sherry Soule >
> Moonlight Publishing Blog >
> Candid Canine >
> Ghost Hunting Theories >
> Above the Norm >
> A Dust Bunny In The Wind >
> Faith McKay >
> Zombob's Zombie News & Movie Reviews >
> Flesh From The Morgue >
> The Living Dark >
> Some One Else's Cook >
> Stumptown Horror >
> Forget About TV, Grab a Book >
> Zombie Dating Guide >
> Strange State >
> The Paranormalist - Renae Rude >
> Idée Fixe >
> Random Game Crafts >
> WhiteRoseBud's Tumblr >
> Gnostalgia >
> Book Me! >
> Carmen Jenner Author >
> Sarasota Zombie Pub Crawl >
> Not Now...Mommy's Reading >
> Love is a Many Flavored Thing >
> Its On Random >
> Ellie Potts >
> Attention Earthlings! >
> Horror Shock LoliPOP >
> The Spooky Vegan >
> The Story In... >
> DarkSide Detectives Blog >
> Something wicKED this way comes.... >
> Julie Jansen: science fiction and horror writer >
> Author/screenwriter James Schannep >
> The Zombie Lab >
> Creepy Glowbugg >
> Pickleope >
> Sharing Links and Wisdom >
> Midnyte Reader >
> This Blog Has A.D.D. >
> Carol's Creations >
> Jeremy Bates > >
> > <!!! END POST CODE!!!>

Chapter 10: Old Friend, New Enemy

Chapter 10: Old Friend, New Enemy

Never in Nate's "natural life" would he have ever thought of scaling the side of a house. He wasn't particularly fit and he had always been a klutz but tonight in his new found condition he leaps on to the nearest widow sill. In a frenzied lust Napoleon pulls himself up the side of the James house. He climbs with a purpose taking hold of anything he can to pull himself up to the attic window. Not once does the man who in life was afraid of heights ever look down. The grunt Nate lets loose once he places a hand on the attic window sill is one of pleasure as his muscles no longer felt stress or strain. With a final heave he balances his rotten corpse using his elbows and slams his hand palm first through the glass pane slicing into his jellied flesh.

Ben had positioned himself at the base of the stairs leading upstairs to the second floor of the house. He had an idea sprinting back across the dinning room and into the kitchen. From the sink he grabs a pair of bright yellow latex gloves. Just then he hears the commotion from the attic signaling his undead neighbors much anticipated arrival. A distant muffled savage grunt followed by a heavy crash. Ben holds his breath moving quietly back to the base of the stairs snapping the gloves on awkwardly as he goes. From the attic comes the sound of a wild animal trapped. Nate fought his way around the tightly pack claustrophobic attic space. Ben knew when Napoleon found the hatch from the attic it would be more than obvious. The sounds of splintering wood followed by the clatter of falling debris and a wet splat from what he assumes to be Nate. Benjamin knew his foe had found the way into his sanctuary. A roar erupts from the second floor of the house soon comes pounding footsteps from above. Nate was howling his name “Beeeeeeeeeennnnnnnn!” as he came cresting the top step. Ben stands rigid against the wall at the base of the staircase. His tongue feels coarse as if it is wrapped in sandpaper and his heartbeat bangs at his temples with each pulse. It was him, Nate and the hammer he clutched. Ben knew is his eyes would betray him the dark. He shudders as the dead man gallops down the stairs; he is almost half way down. Ben didn’t know what his enemy was capable of and more importantly he saw himself as the last barrier between death and his family. Leaning back into the wall planting his feet Ben flexes his brawny arms cocking them back slowly. Napoleon puts one tainted foot onto the tile floor and Ben unleashes the tension in his arms with gritted teeth into one savage double handed blow. Unfortunately Ben misjudges Napoleon’s diminutive height.

The fetid man took the brunt of the hit square in the gut crushing his ribs causing him to flip head over heals. The screeching corpse lands with the sound of snapping bones. In the kitchen sliding to a sudden stop banging in to the cabinets where Ben Jr. was hiding. As quickly as Nate had come to his feet. Ben was already on the move charging him bringing the mallet to bear. “You Black …….” Nate’s insult silenced mid word. The hammer catches him square in the cheek caving in the right side of his face and spinning him around. Ben delivers a boot to the back of the staggering figure. Nate is propelled forward head first into the stainless steel kitchen sink. Ben seizes the opportunity rumbling up behind Nate grasping him by his neck. The hammer then shatters the back of Nate’s head as he fails pinned in place. The next blow removes the top of the polluted man’s head and finally Nate’s hate fueled infected rage is stilled. Ben senses the room swimming away from him before he braces himself on the sinks edge. The big man vomits what little he had eaten over the back and decimated skull of his fallen adversary. Dropping mallet in the sink Ben grabs the corpse and tosses it through the open doorway to his left. This way he thought Nate and Carl can keep each other company. He strips the gloves free and turning on the water on in the sink. It trickles out as Ben throws a handful of the tepid water into his face breathing deeply.

“Crap” he thinks to himself. “Chip!” he calls his boy. “Come on we need to get down stairs.” he pants. The cabinet below him bursts open as his partially paralyzed son pulls himself free from his hiding spot. Ben sways unsteady on his feet “Dad did … Did he get you? Did he bite you?” the boy asks from the floor hesitantly. “No son I’m fine.” Ben kneels down grabbing his son in his arms hefting him up. “Dad…Dad!” the boy shouts clapping his dad on the shoulder. “The mallet dad … we’ve got to keep the mallet!” momentarily Ben’s exhaustion shows. He turns and jabs a hand under the running faucet picking the “lucky” mallet up. “Man …. Jesus…” he swoons. “Chip I really hope that was left over jelly and egg shells from your mother cooking I just put my hand into.” Chip strokes his father’s brow “Yeah dad it was …it sure was.” He says unconvincingly. Ben carries his son to the basement doorway but as he opens the door he feels the house shutter. In the distance the sounds of a fire consuming oxygen in a great “whoosh” can he heard. “We will worry about the attic window tomorrow.” He tells his son while locking the door behind them carefully taking one stair at a time. “Chip…” Ben speaks while they cross the empty basement workshop. “Let me tell your mom and Mrs. Fullerton what happened ok?” Chip snorts “You?! Mr. ‘she made it flesh.’” Ben Jr. mocks his father. “Tell me what?!” Anne whispers from the rear false wall of the workbench. Ben winces at his stupidity upon hearing his wife in the dark. “And what the hell was that racket Benjamin?” She blocks their entrance into the underground shelter “Where’s Carl Ben?!”

 

 

 

 

Today we find Benjamin James having squared off against Napoleon Archer. His one time neighbor and block mate. The only difference is Nate has been stricken by the same infection that Carl Fullerton had. What next for the James clan? Well first Ben has to explain to his wife why he and Chip first bashed in Carl's head then Nate's. What's worse Carl's family has no idea he's never coming back!

 

Come back the week of October 21st to find out what happens in Chapter 11!

 

Sincerely

 

The Living Dark

 

 

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