Brent Acuff - Undead Nation 02 (14 page)

Donovan pulled back from Alex, shocked by what Alex had said and disagreeing completely. Alex again shook his head and kept his hand on the man's shoulder to prevent him from leaving.
 

Slowly, the walking corpse shuffled off into the night never having seen the group of men standing only yards away. Everyone relaxed when the threat had moved on, and they continued on in silence.
 

The team was stopped several times more in their travel to their final destination. They were able to avoid most by keeping to the shadows, only having to deal with a handful before coming across the compound that where Jonathan Hill's wife was secured.

No one expected what they found.
 

CHAPTER TEN

Hell Hath No Fury

Lights blared out from the perimeter of the compound, eradicating the night and accentuating the shadows. Alex and his team were blinded by the light, forcing the men to take cover in the shadows behind the trees. Liam, Alex and Donovan talked in hush tones as they tried to decide the best course of action.

"Why don't we just walk in?" Liam asked. "They should be expecting us, shouldn't they?"

"No idea," Alex said. "We have no way of knowing if they have been in contact with Hill or not. And walking straight in there?" Alex shrugged his shoulders. "With those lights, we'd never know what we were walking into."

"Agreed," Donovan said. "So how do we get their attention?"

Liam solved that problem. "Hello, in there!" he yelled. "Anyone home?" He smiled at himself, proud that he had solved one of their problems. Silence greeted his call and everyone looked to one another in confusion.

"There's got to be someone in there," Liam said. "I'll try again..."

"Stop," Alex said. "Not bright, Liam. They know where we are now, but we don't have a clue as to where they are. We need a better plan."

"Hey," Marshal whispered from a clump of trees near Alex. "Why are we just sitting here?:"

Alex was annoyed by the man. Any time the Marshal spoke, it grated on the nerves of almost everyone within earshot. All except Dr. Cahn who seemed to have the patience of a saint.

"Can't just walk in, Marshal. Don't know what we are facing." Alex spoke to Marshal like a petulant child. "Just sit tight."

Marshal had finally had enough. "Fuck you, Alex. I'm sick and tired of you giving the orders and telling everyone what to do. They've got fucking lights; they'll see us coming in." Marshal stood up and stepped from behind the trees.
 

"Marshal, get down," came the call from every other person. Marshal continued forward.
 

"Hey, anyone out there? Don't shoot..."

The night erupted in gunfire and Marshal was ripped through with a hail of bullets. Marshal didn't even have time to scream before he fell to the ground dead.
 

Everyone flattened themselves against trees and the ground trying desperately to put as many obstacles between them and the rain of bullets. Tree branches snapped and dirt was kicked up all around the men. An explosion rocked the group.
 

The grenade had landed somewhere between the two knots of men. From the screams that raised up from the other group, Alex was certain that it had fallen closer to them. Someone was wounded.
 

"Covering fire!" Alex ordered and every available man opened fire around the trees. "Take out the lights," Alex yelled. The Corsairs now concentrated their fire on the lights blaring into the darkness. Sparks erupted as the lights fell dark, plunging the group into utter darkness which was illuminated only by the flashes of gunfire.
 

The screams from the second group continued even over the sound of gunfire. Alex turned to Liam and Donovan and said, "I'm going to see who's hurt and see what I can do. Keep me covered for another thirty seconds, then cease fire and keep low. We're not going to be able to shoot our way in." The two men nodded and returned to task in front of them.
 

"Go!" Liam yelled and raised up to provide Alex with cover.
 

Alex lowered his head and started running. Bullets exploded around him, kicking up dirt and rocks and impacting in the trees. Alex was in sight of the others when everything went terribly wrong.
 

Pain and fire exploded in Alex's right thigh. His left stopped working and he stumbled, his momentum carrying him the rest of the way into the knot of trees. Alex's head slammed into the ground and he rolled into Dr. Cahn who was leaning low over Luke.

Stars swam in his vision and the blackness started to close around him. The last words he heard before falling unconscious were of the doctor telling him to hold on. Alex's eyes rolled up in his head and he succumbed to the dark.
 

-----

The two drumlines met at the center of the football field, staring at one another across the fifty yard line. The rotting flesh of the zombies was almost humorous when you considered the colorful band uniforms they were wearing and the drums they had strapped to their bodies. The smell of their rotting flesh made Alex gag, but the deafening moans from the undead crowd was what really worried him.
 

Thousands of zombies crowded in every last inch of the stadium bleachers. They pumped their arms in the air and moaned their call of hunger and desire in what mirrored the chanting at a sporting event. A voiced boomed from the darkness that surrounded the stadium, its low, hoarse voice announcing the events that were playing our before Alex.
 

"It's a tie! To determine the winner, the drum lines will meet of the fifty yard line for a winner takes all drum-off!"

The assembled crowd went wild, or as nearly as Alex could tell. This had to be a dream, or more likely, one hell of a nightmare.
 

"It's the Raging Dead versus the Bloody Gore Spitters! Everyone, give it up! Let's get drumming!"

The crowd's volume increased to a deafening pitch as one of the zombie drum lines, Alex was not sure which, began flailing their arms at the drums strapped to their bodies. A horrid noise boomed out of the drums. It sounded like they drummers were playing the bones of the dead, the sound punctuated by the cries and wailing of the dying.
 

The first drum line finished their performance, if that is what it really was. The second drum line picked up where the first left off, the sound even more horrifying than before. The cries of the dying echoed in Alex's ears nearly splitting his head. He put his hands over his ears, squeezing as hard as possible to close out the sounds that assaulted him. The beating of the drums and the wailing of the dead seemed to originate from within his head, pounding at the insides of his skull.

The second drum line finished the horrific dances of arms and sound, bringing the audience to their feet with cries and moans that shook the foundations of the earth. Just when Alex thought this terrible nightmare would end, both drum lines set out again with their conflagration of sound, each group desperately trying to out do their rival.
 

Arms swung and flailed, bringing bones and sticks down on their terrible drums. The sounds of ripping tore through Alex and he forced his eyes open to a shocking sight.

Joints popped and cracked. Tendons and ligaments tore free as arms were ripped free of their bodies. Heads lolled and spines snapped at the drummers continued their feverish bashing of drums. The zombies were tearing the own bodies limb from limb in the attempt to best the other.

And then there was silence, save for one terrified scream. Forcing open his eyes, Alex realized the scream came from his own throat, now raw and scratchy with the effort. He forced himself into silence and peered around him at the corpses that now stood silent with their eyes pinned to him. They were waiting for a winner, and Alex was to choose.

He shook his head, tears welling in his eyes as he started to back away from the drum lines that were now bearing down on him. He tried to scream again, to tell them to stop, stay away, but his voice failed him. Only a growling whisper escaped his lips.
 

Alex continued to back away from the oncoming drum lines, shaking his head furiously now and begging in a whisper for them to stop. He ran into something behind him. Alex froze where he stood and began breathing fast. Not able to stop himself, Alex turned to see what had stopped his retreat and wretched when he realized what he was seeing.
 

Liam, Morgan, and Hayden were splayed open before him, their insides open for all to see. They hung there, tied up by their hands and feet, the flesh where the ropes held them bloody and raw. And they were alive.

Their mouths moved in silent screams as they wordlessly begged to die. Blood drained from their bodies in steady streams to pool in large tubs set below them. A half dozen zombies, each one broken and missing the bottom half of their bodies, lay over the edges of the tubs, drinking at the blood as it flowed in.
 

Hands closed around Alex as the zombie drummers finally caught up to him. When he screamed this time, the sound split the sky into an explosion of light and pain.

-----

"Jesus Christ!" Alex cried. He woke with a start in a barely light room that seemed cold and damp. It was quiet, and the room seemed empty save for Alex. His head pounded and the room spun like a top, but Alex tried to get up.
 

He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and pushed himself up. Alex immediately regretted the move. The room spun around him and the darkness closed in again. Alex remembered the ground rushing up to meet him.
 

-----

Alex awoke again and this time had sense enough to keep his eyes closed until the room stopped spinning. Something cold pressed against his forehead and Alex slowly opened his eyes to see a woman sitting on the side of his bed, wiping his face with a cold wash cloth.
 

"Maybe this time you will wise up and stay in bed. You've already had one concussion today, you really should take it easy," the woman said.
 

Alex struggles through the drug induced haze to speak. "Where am I?" he asked.
 

"You're safe. As safe as you can be in Austin," she said with a hint of sarcasm and smiled at him. "My name is Theresa Hill."

Alex push himself up to his elbows and nearly passed out from the effort. Nausea welled up inside of him and he knew he was about to throw up. He leaned over the bed and heaved into a bucket that was quickly, and expertly placed in front of him. Alex wiped his hand across his mouth and rolled back onto his pillows. He placed his hands over his eyes and tried desperately to squeeze his brains back in his head. All he could do was moan.

"That wasn't too bright," Theresa Hill chuckled. "You had a serious blow to the head, not to mention the bullet that Dr. Cahn had to pull out of your thigh."

Alex removed his hands to look at the woman through half lidded eyes. "Dr. Cahn? Is the doctor okay? What about Luke? He was injured..."

"They're fine," Theresa interrupted. "Luke had a pretty nasty wound from that grenade, but Dr. Cahn said he will be fine. Everyone else made it through that debacle without a mark on them, thank God."

"What, what happened?" Alex asked pressing his hands back over his eyes. The pounding in his head wasn't getting better anytime soon, and Alex did not know how much longer he could take the pain.

"Trigger happy, commando wanna-bes," Theresa spat. "Those guys of have been shooting at anything that moves, living or dead." Theresa looked at Alex and smiled a warm smile. "You guys are lucky. No one else has survived that gunfire. Guess it helped that you were armed to the teeth with a little more brains than any of the others."

Alex removed his hands again and looked at Theresa Hill with a questioning look. "How many others have there been?" he asked, dreading the worst. His worst thoughts were confirmed.

"Dozens of groups, probably a hundred or so people, gunned down as they were looking for shelter in this hell-hole of a city," Theresa said with disgust. "The sergeant wanted to make sure that Amy and I were safe." Theresa nearly spat the name when she spoke it. The anger in her face cleared and she smiled at Alex again. "But you don't need to hear any of the now, you need to rest. I'll go and get Dr. Cahn. He wanted to see you as soon as you woke up again."
 

She placed the wash cloth on the nightstand and quietly left the room. Alex lay still, his hands once again pressed to his eyes, desperately wishing the jackhammer in his head to stop.

It seemed like an eternity before Alex heard the door to his room open again and someone walk softly over to the bed. Alex glanced out from beneath his hands to look on the sour face of Dr. Cahn. "Huh...what's up doc?" Alex started to laugh at his own joke before the pain in his skull overcame him. Dr. Cahn chuckled too, but Alex didn't know if it was the joke, or the pain that Alex was going through.

"You've taken quite a beating Mr. Kemp," Dr. Cahn said in as much of a professional tone as Alex had ever hear.

"Mister Kemp?" Alex said through the pain. "Why so formal?"

"Because right now you are my patient, not my friend." The tone in the doctor's voice worried Alex and he forced himself to remove his hands and look at Dr. Cahn.

"What's going on, doc? Where are we?" Alex thought he knew the answers to those questions, but right now, anything could go.

"We are where we are supposed to be, although," Dr. Cahn paused a moment to gather his thoughts, "the situation is, shall we say, less than ideal."

"How so?" Alex asked, pressing the heels of his palms back into his eye sockets.

"There is a little, well, machismo, going on between the security chief and our guys," Dr. Cahn said.

"Machismo?" asked Alex.

"Okay, the security chief is a dick," Dr. Cahn snapped. "The son-of-a-bitch confiscated all of our weapons and supplies, claiming they were a 'security threat.'" He shook his head when he thought about the conversation that had taken place between them. "We are basically glorified prisoners here. We're not locked up, but we can't really go anywhere either."