Decay (Book 2): Humanity (7 page)

“What do we do?” Jonathan yelled. He was brilliant, but he was far from a military strategist. He turned to Guillermo, only to see that his friend had disappeared. “Great! I will figure it out, guys!”

The helicopter slowed down and hovered over the center of the small town. The roar was deafening above Jonathan and the rush of freezing air brought tears to his eyes as he fought to keep them open enough to see. He felt frozen in place, amazed and scared at the same time. The gunshots from the north end of town reached his ears like the sound of distant firecrackers. The strong arms grabbed him around his chest and pulled him back toward the swirling fire.

“Take these!” shouted Guillermo as he handed Jonathan the Springfield pistols. Guillermo had Jonathan’s ammo belt slung over his shoulder, and he raised Kadavre high, ready to strike.

Jonathan looked up at the horrifying sight above him. The cage was unnerving as it hovered overhead, and he felt the terror the cannibals felt before their deaths were rained down on them in the same manner. “Well, I don’t know if we will make it through this one!” Jonathan shouted over the roar of the helicopter. He wanted to sound tough like an action movie hero, but he was terrified.

“We’ve been through worse!” responded Guillermo.

Jonathan smiled at this. Not because Guillermo was right, but because they both knew they hadn’t been through anything like this.

The cage above them shook, gave out a metal-on-metal squeal, and then the floor fell open with a loud
clank
. The fiends rained out, hitting the cold ground with sickening thuds. Guillermo wasted no time waiting for them to stand. He charged in, driving his blade through as many of their heads as he could. Jonathan joined him, stomping on a dead woman’s head until her brains oozed out through her nose.

Hugo ran past on his way toward the oncoming horde that crawled down the mountain like an army of ants. He drove a long metal stick, like the ones used to pick up trash, through the heads of any fiend he had to step over. Slung over his shoulder was the rifle he had used to take out the cannibal brute the day they met. Jonathan watched through the forest of undead bodies as Hugo began to fire shots into the horde.

A flash of red alerted Jonathan that Laikynn had returned. Her hair whipped wildly in the wind from the helicopter blades. She held up a large tube. Jonathan hadn’t seen one in real life, but he recognized the long cylindrical weapon as a rocket launcher. The pilot must have seen it as well, Jonathan watched the powerful aircraft attempt to maneuver, but the large machine wasn’t capable.

The small rocket left the tube, trailing smoke as it shot through the air. The explosion rocked the helicopter and the surrounding snow flashed orange. The engine whirred loudly as the powerful engines struggled to recover from the impact. The helicopter spun in a complete circle before the pilot was able to gain some level of control. The spinning had stopped, but the flying beast drifted sideways. Jonathan was sure he could see the blades wobble as if they would shoot off the top.

Laikynn watched as the helicopter drifted toward the common area. Gunshots came from flaps in the roof of the tin building. She knew that it was the most secure place to be, as it was designed for an event like this. Shooters could lean out of the covers and take out their enemies with little fear of being put in any real danger. Behind the tin walls, a layer of steal and bricks made it impossible for the ghouls the break through.

Yet the force with which that heavy cage collided with the side of the secure building was like a wrecking ball, knocking most of the west wall down. This impact forced the nose of the helicopter down, causing it to slam into the ground just to the east of the common area. It ground dozens of the undead horde into the earth and destroyed two of the small houses.

Chapter 11

Elliot woke up to the smell of smoke and rotting flesh. There was a small fire in the helicopter, but even through the fuzz in his head he could tell that it wasn’t at risk of spreading. The choking smoke smelled of burned wires and hot metal. He tried to pick himself up; he was lying against the window on the passenger side of the cockpit. Blood and flesh was splattered along the inside of the helicopter and looked like raw hamburger.

The pain in his side assured him that he was alive. It hurt like hell to move, but he twisted his body the best he could. A long piece of glass stuck out of his side. He couldn’t focus well enough to know if he should remove it or leave it there, but he decided it had to go. Searching for something to bite down on, he came across a severed finger. Wrapping it in a piece of his torn shirt, he placed it in his mouth and bit down as he pulled the glass from his body.

Consumed by the urge to pass out, Elliot fought with all of his strength to stay awake. He knew that passing out now could mean he bleeds to death in this helicopter, and that would ruin his whole day. There was one more helicopter in that building, and that was his ticket home. After all, there was a hero’s welcome for him when he returned. He focused his mind and controlled his breathing.

Luckily the glass didn’t go in too deep, and after a few minutes of searching he found the med kit. Elliot applied all of the antibiotic gel and bandages he could find and downed several Tylenol more then what the doctor would recommend. He sat back, hoping he could afford to give the painkillers a little time to work. Straining to hear anything from outside of the helicopter, Elliot decided it must be now or never.

The screams and gunshots echoed deep into the mountains. It became an all-out defensive battle as they attempted to keep the fiends out of the common area and away from the families that sought shelter there. The downed wall made it almost impossible to formulate a decent defensive strategy, and the panic that created so much chaos moments before the fiends reached the town had many of the residents spread out and hoping to survive the onslaught in false safety of their own homes.

Laikynn watched in terror as her friends were torn apart. The ghouls were not fast or strong, but their numbers were great, and that made them a terrifying force.  She knew she couldn’t save everyone here. It was too late for that, but she was sure as hell going to try to save as many as possible. Then she would find the one responsible and rip him apart herself. Standing on her small porch with the rocket launcher at her feet, she fired off shots from an assault rifle.

Jonathan and Guillermo spread out around the bonfire. Guillermo swung Kadavre at anything that came within distance while Jonathan took calculated shots with his Springfields. He looked across the way to Laikynn, bodies piling up around her. She screamed, not a war cry, but a panicked, horrified scream. He followed her gaze to the common area.

Fiends poured in through the wall, scrambling over each other like starved animals wanting to be the first in line to receive their meal. Occasionally, one of their heads would burst as it found itself in the way of a bullet. Most of the fiends, however, made it through just fine. Over the roaring fire, Jonathan could hear the screams. The gunshots died down, and soon so did the screams.

The stench of rotting flesh and coagulated blood was quickly becoming overpowering. Laikynn had moved from her porch and was now standing back to back with Guillermo on the opposite side of the dying fire from Jonathan. The cold night was slowing down the fiends, but it was starting to overcome Jonathan’s adrenaline, as well. With the heat of the fire fading fast, they were all finding it harder to squeeze the trigger as their fingers began to freeze.

Several shots burst from up in the trees. Jonathan wasn’t sure who it was, but they were drawing the fiends away for now. That bought the survivors enough time to regroup. Eleven people met by the fire. All of them were armed and ready to take care of the remaining fiends. Jonathan looked at the disheveled group that surrounded him. He didn’t see Tyler or Layla among them.

“Chris is in the trees,” Brew Master Eric said. He held a twelve gauge shotgun and a vest with plenty of extra shells. “I sent him up there with like a thousand rounds of ammo,” he laughed. “I can’t believe he even made it up the tree.”

“Well we need to use this time to our advantage,” Laikynn said. “Especially since he is a terrible shot.”

Chris fired off shots, missing most of them. He had always bragged about being a great shot, and he would later use the excuse that it was harder to shoot while sitting on a swaying tree branch. He knew, however, that he was leaning comfortably against the tree, and it was fear and panic that impaired him. He was doing what he was sent up there to do, however, and that is all that mattered to him. The ghouls came for the noise.

Jonathan stared at the common area. Blood ran out from under the doors. The last time he had seen Tyler and Layla they were running in there to be safe. So many people ran in there to be safe. Now they were all dead. Laikynn placed her hand on his shoulder and they made eye contact. He could see there was just as much sadness in her eyes as there was in his. After all, she was losing her entire home.

“We have to clean up this mess, Jonathan,” Laikynn said softly.

He didn’t hear anything she said. For the first time he felt pure rage. Looking around at the small town, he saw the aftermath of what had happened. Children lay in the red snow, stomped into the ground, their small bodies broken. Their mothers and fathers lay close by. One man’s head had been completely busted open. His brains were splattered for several feet. Jonathan’s fists clenched and his heart raced so hard he thought it would explode.

Jonathan walked away. Laikynn watched as he did, unsure of what she should do. She would give him some space, but she would make sure to stay close by. He glared into the common area as he walked by. It was a mess. There would be no way to identify anyone that was in there. The smell was wretched, but he wouldn’t gag. Rage would see that he accomplished what he set out to do.

Elliot stuck his head out of the side of the helicopter. He could hear the gunshots from the other side of the common area.
Time to go
, he thought.
While they are busy trying to survive
. He pulled himself up, looked around, and dropped the .50 cal to the cold ground before landing next to it. His side felt like it burst open. Holding back the urge to scream, he sat up, controlled his breathing, and worked his way to his feet.

He had walked about thirty feet before he saw the fiend walking toward him. It was only one, moving far too slow to catch him. The forest would be his salvation. Trained to survive, Elliot could live in any conditions under any circumstances. Before he could take another step, however, a nine millimeter bullet tore through the skin on the back of his right knee, blowing out the kneecap as it exited.

Elliot hit the ground hard, this time he couldn’t hold in the scream. He felt the blood trickle from his side, but the pain in his knee dominated his senses. Then he saw the shooter. “Jonathan?” he asked. “Did you really just shoot me?”

“You piece of shit!” said Jonathan as he walked closer to the fallen man. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, I tried to stop it. One of the guys guarding the caves, he went crazy and–“ Elliot started before being interrupted.

“Shut it!” Jonathan ordered.

“You’re not a killer Jonathan. I’ve seen it in you. You’re a good kid. I can change. Let me go and I promise I’ll fix this,” Elliot pleaded with a hint of a lie on his tongue.

“You are wrong, Elliot. After what I just saw. After what you just did. I am a killer, but I am not going to kill you.”

“Thank you, Jonathan. I need bandages for my knee.”

“He is going to kill you, though.” Jonathan stood up and walked back toward the fiend that Elliot had seen shambling toward him. The dead man reached for Jonathan as he walked up to meet him, but Jonathan spun the man and dropped him to the ground. Grabbing the dead man’s feet, he raised his legs and stomped on the man’s knees, snapping them backwards.

“What the hell are you doing, Jon?” Elliot asked in a friendly tone. The fiend was heavier than Jonathan had anticipated, but the snow made it easier to drag the body over to Elliot. “Oh shit. Come on, Johnny. We’re friends, you and I.”

Jonathan slammed the fiend down onto his stomach right in front of Elliot. “Are you ready to feel the pain that these people have felt? I will not give you the honor of putting you down when you come back, though. I will hang you from a tree for all to see.”

“If you do this, Jonathan, how will you ever learn more about what your father was working on?” Elliot said calmly. “There is so much more to the story than what you know. I know it all. I was there.”

“You lie!” Jonathan exclaimed. The fiend flayed his arms around wildly underneath the young man.

“I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll tell you what I know if you let me go.”

Jonathan thought about it for a moment. Of course he wanted to know the whole story. He wanted to know how to stop this, but what if his father wasn’t the good man he thought he was. Could he really use anything Elliot said to help put a stop to the undead? Jonathan lowered his pistol to the back of the fiend’s head and fired a round through it. Chunks of skull and brain erupted back up at him, covering his face and giving him a more menacing look.

Elliot told the story, or at least his side of the story, of what went down prior to the day Sam came back from the dead in the BCRC laboratory. Jonathan listened closely to every word, every detail of Elliot’s story. Some of it sounded too outrageous to be true, but when dead people came back to kill, nothing was impossible.

“Now, run and get me some bandages for my knee,” Elliot ordered when his story was finished.

Jonathan stood and turned back to the town. Seeing the destruction brought back the rage. He never intended on allowing Elliot to live, but once again he wanted him to feel the pain. “I think I have another idea,” Jonathan said. “Wait here.”

He disappeared around the tin exterior of the common area for several minutes. Elliot wasn’t sure what Jonathan was up to, but he didn’t have a good feeling about it. He fought through the pain as he rolled to his stomach and began to crawl into the forest. He knew that at the rate he was moving, he wouldn’t make it far. The .50 cal was only a few yards away. He started toward it. Then he heard Jonathan’s footsteps.

“Where do you think you are going? I brought back someone who can help you,” Jonathan said.

Relieved, Elliot rolled onto his back. He found himself face to face with a small child, six or seven years old. Blood gushed from her chest. Bones stuck out from her flesh in several places on her chest and legs. “What the hell are you doing, Jonathan? This isn’t funny. Remember our deal, man. You don’t want to be a killer. Trust me; it is the hardest thing you will ever have to live with.”

“Then I better get used to living with it,” replied Jonathan as he released the girls arms from his grasp.

Elliot’s scream filled the air as the child fell on top of him. He stuck his hands in her face to keep her away, but she bit through the rough skin. He could feel her teeth grinding against the bones in his fingers. Pulling his hand free caused her to fall on top of him. Blood poured from her mouth as her hot breath washed over his face. With her mouth open wide she bit down on his head. Her bottom teeth scraped across his eye, causing it to burst open. The pain caused him to drift in and out of consciousness.

Jonathan listened to the man’s screams. He watched as he was torn open. The girl was small yet violent. She stomped and scratched her way through his body. She pulled veins and muscle from his neck, spraying blood over of the snow. When Elliot finally stopped screaming, Jonathan put a round in the girl’s head, picked up the .50 cal, and turned around. Laikynn was staring at him with a horrified look that confused Jonathan. She was responsible for the same atrocities. She too had played judge, jury, and executioner, condemning people to the same brutal fate. Then he realized that he had a smile on his face.