The Adventures of Steve and Terry: The Zombie Chronicles (3 page)

The second attacker started for
Terry when Steve leapt out from his clothes rack, or at least that’s what he
attempted to do. He got tangled in the clothes and he and the rack crashed to
the ground. The looter started toward him, but Steve managed to bring his weapon
to bear, an Airsoft pellet gun. He pulled the trigger and an electric gunshot
noise rang out as the full auto delivered plastic pellets at 320 feet per
second to the attacker’s groin. The man collapsed with a cry, cupping his
testicles. Steve disentangled himself from the clothes rack as Terry ran over
to him.

“It’s up to us to save the day,”
Steve said, leveling his weapon.

“Right,” Terry said, shouldering
his paintball gun.

Michael caught the fist of an
attacker and hit the man in the face. He and Brian were back to back, the
former cop using his shotgun to bludgeon anyone that got close. “Where are the
others?” Michael asked Brian.

“Everyone’s looking for weapons.”

“Well we need to—”

A high pitched, girly scream
suddenly filled the mall. Everyone froze where they were. “What was that?”
Brian asked.

And then Steve and Terry burst
onto the scene. Terry was once again adorned in his suit of armor. Steve was
wearing baseball catcher’s gear, complete with mask. Both had their swords
strapped across their backs. Terry was carrying a baseball pitching machine, an
extension cord trailing behind him. Steve was armed with an Airsoft gun in one
hand and a paintball gun in the other.

“I’ll hold the high ground,” Terry
cried.

“Gotcha,” Steve said, moving off
along the second story.

Steve was deadly accurate with his
weapons, hitting attackers in the face and groin at will. Many fell to his
weapons with cries of pain. When his ammo ran out he abandoned the projectile
weapons and took a flying leap off the second story, arms and legs outstretched
like a flying squirrel. He landed on two invaders and bore them to the ground.
The two men punched and kicked at him, but his padding protected him. Steve
head-butted one with his mask and the man fell back with a bleeding nose. He
then rolled off the second man and got to his feet. His opponent carried a
baseball bat and attacked in a flurry of swings, but again his catcher’s gear
armor saved him. Steve kicked the man in the shin, and as he fell back with a
cry, he body slammed him, the man bouncing off of Steve’s pads and into the
wall, his head hitting with a crack.

Steve turned to face five men
closing on him. But suddenly a barrage of baseballs came hurtling from the
second story at blinding speeds. Several men went down under the onslaught.
Steve looked to the second story to see Terry give him a salute. Steve moved on
to find more victims.

Terry was covering Steve with his
baseball pitching machine when two men tried to take him out. One of the men
carried a baseball bat, the other a sledge hammer. Terry turned to face them,
unlimbering a shield and drawing his sword.

“Come, you vile filth,” Terry said
in his Scottish accent. “I will dispatch thee with pleasure.”

The men attacked in a rush. Terry
blocked the sledgehammer with his shield, but it still knocked him to one side.
The other man swung with his bat, but it bounced harmlessly off Terry’s armor.
Terry swung his sword, but the men ducked and the swing pulled Terry into a
spin. He went with the spin and came back around with his shield to hit the man
with the sledgehammer. The man fell back with a cry, leaving just baseball bat
and Terry. Terry raised his sword with a warcry, which for him was a high
pitched, girly scream. He attacked, his sword coming down, but the man side
stepped. Terry’s sword struck the tile floor and sent a shockwave up his arm,
causing him to lose his grip and the sword fell from his hand.

His opponent kicked Terry,
knocking him into the side railing. The man came at him again, but he got his
shield between them. The man grabbed the shield and attempted to rip it from
Terry’s fist. Terry stomped on the man’s foot, causing him to stumble back. He
then charged the man, grabbing him in a bear hug and running into the wall,
smashing the man between the steel armor and the hard wall. Terry stepped back
and the man collapsed to the ground.

Terry turned as Steve came up the
stairs and joined him. “Zombies are flooding the mall,” Steve said.

“We need more weapons.”

“Quick, to the armory!” Steve
cried. He motioned to all the others as he and Terry ran for their favorite
store. “To the armory!” he yelled to one and all.

The whole group met at the novelty
store. “We need to arm,” Steve said. “Take anything you can wield.”

Everyone collected weapons and
they went back out to meet their enemy. The attackers had their hands full with
zombies; it would be easy for the group to pick them off. Steve motioned for
everyone to spread out. Terry once again manned his pitching machine. The group
approached the enemy quietly, but then, with sudden warcries, they charged.
Carla swung a flail over her head as she attacked, unfortunately Shane was
right next to her and she crushed his skull. She stood frozen in mute shock for
several seconds when a baseball hit her in the head and she went down.

“Sorry, sorry,” Terry yelled from
his position, “my bad.”

Two of the group, Oscar and
Tamara, attacked a group of three men fending off eight zombies. They ran the
men through, but as their victims fell, their swords stuck in the bodies and
were pulled from their grasps. The zombies attacked and both were eaten alive.

Angelo carried a medieval cross
bow, but as he ducked the wildly flying baseballs it went off and skewered Tom,
who collapsed dead. Angelo turned almost as if to run, but a baseball hit him
in the lower back and he was knocked to the ground with a cry. The zombies
quickly finished him off.

“Terry, you’re hittin us more than
them!” Steve cried.

“Sorry,” Terry said, “Too many
friendlies mixed with hostiles.”

“Then get down here and help us
out.”

“Got it.”

There was the clanking of armor as
Terry made his way down the escalator. Brian, Michael, and Stephanie were
holding off a group of zombies that had surrounded them. Brian, who seemed to
have suddenly gone crazy, yelled, “I’m not dyin for you!” and ran his sword
through Stephanie and threw her to the zombies.

Michael quickly turned and he and
Brian faced off, swords at the ready. They came together in a clash, swords
locking. The zombies came at their backs and both died amid horrible screams.

April was surrounded by zombies.
Steve started toward her, but he heard Terry cry out. He turned to see the man
flat on his back, unable to get up, zombies all over him. Steve looked between
the young girl and his best friend. Finally he made his choice.

“April!” he yelled. “Catch!” and
he threw her his sword.

Steve grabbed a nearby baseball
bat and ran for Terry. He clobbered zombies left and right, wrestling them off
of Terry. After hitting the last one in the head he knelt down and shook Terry.

“Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead.”

“You’re gonna break my neck, you
keep shakin me like that,” Terry said.

“Are you bit?”

“Nah, the armor kept them from
sinking their teeth in. Where are the others?”

“The invaders have all been killed
by zombies. Right now it’s just you, me, and April.”

“Then let’s get the girl and get
out of here,” Terry said.

“Right!” Steve said, helping Terry
up.

They turned to help April, but
they saw the girl lying amongst a horde of zombies feeding on her, Steve’s
sword sticking out of her chest.

“Oh, right,” Steve said awkwardly.
“That always works out so much better in the movies.”

“Shame,” Terry said, “I liked her.
Oh well, we still need to get out of here.”

They bludgeoned and beat their way
through the zombies until getting to the big rig wrecker. They climbed in.
“Hey, the keys are in it,” Steve said, pleasantly surprised. He started the
truck up and they left the mall behind.

“Do you ever notice that everyone
we come into contact with never makes it?” Terry asked.

“Yeah. Guess they’re just not as
prepared for the zombies as we are.”
“We are pretty good at this.”

“Yes we are,” Steve said.

“So, where to now, buddy?” Terry
asked.

“Wherever the road takes us.
Wherever the road takes us.”

III. The
Nest

Angela woke up on the floor. She
sat up, not sure what had happened. One minute she had been walking down the
hallway, the next . . . She couldn’t remember. She stood and looked around at
her unfamiliar surroundings. She was in a broad hallway, paintings on the wall
that looked expensive, and busts of people she didn’t know. She walked down the
hallway until she came to a bedroom. She was starting into the bedroom when a
loud crash filled the mansion. She ran out into the hall and came face to face
with a squad of eight men in full tactical gear. They were all holding
submachine guns and had pistols holstered at their side. They wore masks, so
she couldn’t see their faces.

“Report,” the leader said in a
deep voice.

“Uh, what?” Angela asked.

“Why did the security protocol
engage?” the leader asked.

“I . . . I don’t know.”

The leader turned to his men and
held up four fingers. He motioned into the rest of the house. Four men split
from the group and disappeared down the hall. It was only moments later that a
high pitched, girly scream filled the mansion. The four men returned, dragging
two pudgy, struggling men behind them. The men were hauled before the leader.

“Who are you? What are you doing
here?”

“We’re, uh . . .” the shorter of
the two stammered. Both were shaking. “We’re Steve and Terry.”

“What are you doing here? How did
you get into the mansion?”

“Dude,” Steve said with a shrug.
“The front door was open, man. We were just looking for a place to crash. We’ve
been on the road for days; we just needed some food and rest.”
“No help for it,” the leader said, “they’re coming with us.”

“Whoa, whoa, going where?”

“Into the Nest.”

“The Nest? What?”

But the leader walked away, his
men following, dragging Steve and Terry with them. They walked to the basement
where a train car waited.

“Cool,” Steve and Terry said as
they were pushed onboard.

“Where are we going again?” Terry
asked.

“The Nest,” the leader said.
“Watch them, I don’t trust them.”

Two men took up posts in front of
Steve and Terry, guns trained on them. Steve leaned over to Terry, “these guys
are pretty serious,” he whispered.

“So, what exactly is this Nest
thingy?’ Terry asked.

“Advanced research facility,” the
leader said.

“And we’re going there why?”

“A security breach was reported.
We lost contact with the Nest, so we went to the security checkpoint, there we
found the security team leader,” the man said, motioning toward Angela with his
head. “And two huge breaches of security,” he said, looking at Steve and Terry.
Both of the pudgy men gulped under his gaze.

The train car sped along a dark
tunnel for what felt like fifteen minutes or so. “This Nest thing is pretty far
away,” Steve whispered to Terry.

“No talking,” one of their guards
said angrily.

The train door opened and they
filed out onto a platform that would have been at home in any subway station.
Square metal columns divided the room, with a massive vault door at the far end
of the platform. The leader took point, heading straight for the door, with the
others following, Steve and Terry still being pushed at gunpoint.

They reached the vault door and
one of the team opened an access panel. He plugged a small handheld computer
into a USB port and started to hit buttons. There was the sound of metal slides
retracting and then the release of an airlock. The massive vault door swung
open on silent hinges. A dark, imposing tunnel greeted them.

“We’re in,” the man said, closing
his computer and unplugging. He held up a small device that almost looked like
a ballpoint pen. “I’m showing no signs of a viral threat, no airborne toxins.
Should be safe to remove the masks.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute,”
Steve said. “You brought us down here and there could have been, like, poisons
in the air or something?”

The leader just looked at him.
“Yes.”

Steve folded his arms angrily and
muttered under his breath, “Asshole.”

The group removed their masks one
by one. They all had clean shaven, square jaws, like they had come straight out
of a comic book or something. Three were dark haired with dark eyes, four were
light haired with blue eyes. The leader had a shaved head with an intense gaze.

“Ramirez, Regan, take point,” the
leader said. Two men leveled their submachine guns and started into the tunnel.

“Well,” Terry said, “have fun in
there. We’ll wait for you here.”

“You two are coming as well.”

“The hell we are,” Steve said.
“There’s all kinds of nasty and creepy that could be in there.”

“Either you come with us, or we
shoot you and leave you here,” the leader said.

“Okay, coming along sounds good,”
Steve said quickly.

“I thought so.”

Tac-lights were clicked on and the
group made its way into the Nest. “So what are we looking for down here?”
Angela asked.

“The Egg,” the leader said.

“The what?”

“System core, it’ll have a record
of all that’s happened in the Nest.”

“So we’re looking for the Nest egg?”

“Exactly.” Suddenly, Steve giggled
and both turned. “Something funny?”

“Nest egg, what a stupid name,”
Steve said.

Both shook their heads and turned
back around. The group walked down the dark tunnel for some time before coming
out in a large open area, almost like a cathedral. A large skylight let in
sunlight.

“I thought we were underground,”
Steve said.

“It’s a projection, a fake image
to make the people feel less claustrophobic,” the leader said.

“The Egg should be through here,”
the tech said, walking through an arched opening.

“Good job, Collins.”

“It’s about eight levels down,”
Collins said.

The group made their way through
the Nest. They passed through everything from small, cramped rooms, to large
domed arenas. The squad never let their guard down, their guns always up and at
the ready. They came out of one long hallway into a massive cafeteria with
flickering florescent lights. Most of the room was shrouded in darkness. Long
picnic-like tables filled the area. The whole group tensed when they heard
shuffling feet. Guns trained, the squad waited for whatever was making the
noise to appear. Steve and Terry were both behind the wall of men and firearms,
shaking uncontrollably. Suddenly a man wearing a white lab coat shuffled into
view. His head was cocked painfully to one side, his limbs stiff, as he moved
with an awkward gait.

Suddenly Steve blew out his
breath. “Oh, thank heavens,” he said with relief. “It’s just a zombie.”

Everyone’s head snapped around to
look at Steve. “A what?” Collins asked.

“A zombie.” Everyone looked at him
like he was crazy. “The undead, the walking dead, the living dead, take your
pick. A freaking zombie!”

“A zo-zo-z . . .” one of the men
stammered.

“Z, zo, zombie,” Steve said,
imitating the man. “Just shoot it in the head and we can move on. Look at it,”
he said pointing. “It’s just walking toward us, how easy could that be. We just
came from a place where the effers, ran, freaking ran, man!”

“You must be mistaken,” the leader
said in his deep voice. “No such thing exists.”

“Where have you guys been for the
last three weeks?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Terry chimed in. “Zombies
have overrun the U.S., they’re everywhere, man.”

“We haven’t heard anything in
Squirrel City,” Tombs said, one of the blond mercenaries.

Steve laughed. “Squirrel City?
That’s the name of it, Squirrel City?”

Suddenly one of the men leveled
his gun at Steve. “Are you disrespecting the Squirrel?”

Steve gulped. “No, of course not.
I love squirrels, right up there with raccoons.”

Now all of the squad was focused
on Steve. “Raccoons?” one of them asked.

“Uh, guys,” Terry said, but no one
looked at him.

“What do Raccoons have to do with
squirrels?” another man asked.

“Well, they’re both marmots,”
Steve said.

“Mar-what?” a third merc asked.

“Uh, guys,” Terry said again, but
no one paid attention to him.

“Marmots, rodents,” Steve said.

Now all the mercenaries had their
weapons lowered, engrossed in the conversation. “Squirrels aren’t rodents,” one
of them said.

“Sure they are,” Steve said.

“Uh,
guys
,” Terry said more
desperately.

“But rodents are pests,” another
mercenary said.

“Look,” Steve said, using hand
motions to get his point across now. “Just because squirrels are cute doesn’t
mean they aren’t rodents, or pests. Squirrels have all the characteristics of
rodents, I mean—”

“Guys!” Terry shouted.

They all turned. “What?” one of
the soldiers asked, but it was too late.

The slow moving zombie had had
enough time to reach the group, and as engrossed as they all were in the
conversation, none had noticed except Terry. Before they could bring their
weapons to bare the zombie bit one of the blond mercenaries in the neck. He spun
with a cry and they opened up on the zombie, driving it back into a table where
it lost its footing and went down. All of the soldiers took a step back as it
started to get back to its feet.

“Shoot it in the head!” Steve
yelled.

The squad leader leveled his gun
and blew the zombie’s head clean from its shoulders. The zombie shuttered and
collapsed unmoving to the ground.

“Son of a bitch,” one of the mercenaries
swore.

“Told you,” Steve said. “Zombies.”

“Simmons, you okay,” the squad
leader asked.

“Bastard got a chunk of me.”

“You’re going to die,” Steve said.
Terry, who was standing behind him, nodded emphatically.

“What?” Simmons asked.

“The bite transmits the virus.
First it will kill you, then it will bring you back.”

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“What can we do?” the leader
asked.

“Shoot him in the head, or wait
till he turns and tries to kill us.”

“You gotta be—”

That was as far as Simmons got
before the leader pulled his pistol and shot him in the head. The rest of the
squad stood in mute shock. The leader holstered his sidearm and looked each of
his remaining men in the eye. “Don’t. Get. Bit,” was all he said.
Angela reached down and removed the dead man’s weapons. She strapped the
sidearm to her leg and then looped the quick sling of the submachine gun around
her shoulder.

“You look like you’ve done this
before,” Steve said. Angela just shrugged her shoulders.

“Come on, we need to keep moving,”
the leader said. “Collins, lead the way.”

They descended deeper into the
nest. They didn’t encounter any more zombies along the way, but neither did
they encounter any of the some 500 staff. They finally reached a vault door.
Collins pulled out his small computer and hooked into a USB port. He mumbled to
himself as he hit keys with blinding speed.

“Got it!” he finally exclaimed as
the vault door opened with the sound of an airlock seal giving way.

A long mirrored hallway greeted
them. The leader checked the hallway out before looking back at Steve and
Terry. “You two go first.”

“No way!” Steve said. “We’re not
trained mercenaries.”

“Making you the most expendable
members of the group.”

“We’re not going in that creepy
hallway unless—” the leader pointed his gun at Steve. “You force us to at
gunpoint,” Steve finished quietly. “Damn.”

Steve and Terry looked into the
mirrored hallway hesitantly. With a nudge from a mercenary’s gun they stepped
into the hallway. Both looked at each other, then to the far side where a
second door stood. Steve nodded at Terry, who gave a confirming nod. With girly
roars and arms flailing over their heads they charged down the hallway. They
reached the second door and nothing happened. Both stood by the door, hands on
knees, breathing heavily.

“Well,” Terry yelled back. “It’s
safe for you pussies to come in.”

The leader led the way with three
others behind him. The leader placed something over the keypad of the second
door. Steve and Terry made their way out of the hallway. Steve had just stepped
out into the other room when the vault door closed. He spun around, but Terry
had been trapped on the other side.