DEAD FACTIONS - the Zombie War Narratives - a Novella (7 page)

[scene:  A nightstand with a small lamp and a framed picture of Core and his siblings.]

I know you are upset with me. But know I needed a way to escape the continuing pressure...the emotional wrap that makes breathing difficult. The triggers are not initially definable...but I pace aimlessly looking for them. I look for something to offer as an explanation for my unusual actions.

              [
scene: A wider view of the bedroom…a hand dangles from the edge of the bed.]

Possibly it’s because I feel alienated, disposable and forgotten.

Regardless, putting an end to it all is not a cowardly act. It is a means to an end. The expectation to perform daily in this evil circus of a planet can be exhausting. Functioning in a world of liars and selfishness is depressing…especially when those you have trusted with everything abandon you.

[scene:  A lifeless female on the bed, her hair in her face and, not far from her hand, an empty pill bottle

Someone once said, “In life I have found everyone will hurt you. You must decide the ones that are worth suffering for”…when there are none, consider your options.

      
Tara

A teary-eyed Tonya holding the note looks at Corey. Brushing his long bangs back she questions, “
Why does life have to be so hard. Why do we suffer so much?”
Wanting to assure him of her
sincerity,
“
I will look out for you Corey. I promise!”

“ARRRGH!” Tonya in the jeep with Corey hears a man yell. She looks back to see an unknown fighter has thrown Chief to the ground. Chief feels something pop internally followed by an unusual and intense burning sensation. He tries desperately to defend himself. Patrick runs towards the fighter, gripping a large wrench. Tonya begins to run behind Patrick but he turns yelling at her “Get Corey out of here!!” She jumps into the jeep, punches it, and barrels toward the base.

Armed guards furiously motion her to stop at the checkpoint, but there is no stopping her. She crashes through the checkpoint, finally braking before hitting a building. Gunfire is unleashed towards the jeep but is immediately stopped by a ranking official's command of “Cease fire!!”  Tonya hunched over in the driver seat shakes frantically, scared as the soldiers approach.

Back at the fight, the warrior is unlike anything ever seen by the survivors. It has a wasp-like helmet head. Humanoid in stature, its body in black and yellow has a reflective glare to it, almost shiny. Though it is of average human height and build, it acts with significant strength. Not heavily armed, it holds a staff-like weapon, exactly as those carried by the Zlys. The attacker stands over Chief with staff raised, about to strike down. Patrick drawing near, swings and hits the strange fighter in the side of the head with the heavy wrench. The militant staggers and Chief sees an opportunity to get away. He rolls onto his stomach and begins to crawl. Patrick pulls a handgun from his side holster and fires at the fighter. The bullets tear at the warrior’s polished body armor, slowing it down slightly, like the Zlys earlier. Chief continues to crawl, making his way towards the vehicles. Patrick, locked in a struggle with the fighter, uses his right foot in an attempt to sweep its leg out from under him, but every attempt fails. 

Chief finally reaches the tank. Struggling, and in a lot of pain he begins to make his way to the turret. Patrick, still in battle is able to hit the warrior in the chest knocking the fighter away. He continues to fire at the fighter. Again, the bullets do not seem to affect the polished colored warrior…just push it back. Patrick has no choice but to unload the clip and hope that he finally inflicts some damage.

“Damn it!”
he shouts to the sound of clicks. He is out of bullets and starts looking frantically for the wrench.

“DROP!!” Chief yells in the distance.

Patrick falls to his stomach and looks up.  The warrior has no stop in it. It is driven to see this human dead. But Patrick is safe as Chief’s mounted gunfire connects with the attacker…the warrior spins, twitches and falls apart.

Patrick, on his stomach covered in the warrior’s entrails, is relieved and disgusted at the same time.  He looks over at Chief, “Thanks!” The young jock jumps up and runs towards the tank, trying to remove slime as he goes. After climbing into the driver seat, he looks around trying to determine which pedal is the gas and which is the clutch. Chief turns the turret towards the base and yells down, “Treat it like a stick shift...the clutch is on the left!” Patrick mashes the gas...grinding the gears as they go. As Chief rocks back and forth from Patrick’s wretched driving, he notices the launcher that is left behind.

The tank stops. Chief, frustrated with the young man shouts, “Hey! What are you doing man?”

“Um...Chief, don't you think it would be a better idea to walk to the base instead of approaching it in a tank?”

Chief thinks for a minute…the kid is right. If this truly is a military base they would be destroyed before they got close. Patrick already out of the driver seat, extends a hand to help Chief out, but he is determined to do it himself and avoids the gesture.

They approach the base seeing the damage visible from Tonya’s entrance. Patrick, who is quite tall, slumps over to support his injured savior as he walks. He prays that the slow pace will let them pass as friendlies, but the advancing soldiers consider nothing safe. Before they can reach the base, armed guards wearing gas masks surround the two.

“You have entered government grounds without authorization…put your hands on top of your heads!”

Chief looks up at them with a shit-eating grin. “Does that seriously look possible, amigos?”

Patrick and Chief walk onto the base with a guard escort and their hands restrained. One of the soldiers assists chief. Once inside the building, they are forced to walk down an isolated hall passing a series of air-pressured blowers. They stop and look up as an intercom overhead makes an announcement,
“Try not to breathe when you feel the air running against you.”
The two look at each other with puffed-out cheeks and hold their breath momentarily. Continuing through the segregated hall, they look around but there is not much to view… just a vinyl-looking material that lines the walls and ceiling.

After they complete what is assumed to be a decontamination exercise they are quickly led through an institutional-looking hallway.  They pass rooms with small windows that remind them of hospital rooms. Having only enough time to glance into the rooms, they are able to see medical beds and people in examination gowns. Their attention is quickly transferred to a soldier waiting for them at the end of the hall.

The soldiers usher them into a meeting room. Upon entry, they see Tonya seated at a beautiful oval mahogany table seemingly out of place in this stark room of bare floors and concrete walls painted in a sickening vomit green. As the guards remove the men’s cuffs and direct them to sit, Patrick looks around and notices the cool clean air coming from a large air vent in the ceiling...a welcome relief from the harsh elements to which they have become so accustomed.

The soldiers exit in silence. The door shuts and Tonya tells them, “They have Corey in an infirmary. You are ok, aren’t you Chief?”

Chief leans forward in his seat, “Oh…I can’t take a beating like I used to. Whatever that thing was, it was strong. It threw me on the ground like I was nothing!”

Patrick joins the conversation, “The bullets I fired just slightly peeled away that armor-like coating. What
was
that shit?”

Tonya cuts her eyes towards Patrick, “Did you two not hear what I said about Corey?”

Patrick and Chief look at each other puzzled, they are still caught up in the recent events since they last saw Tonya and Corey. Before they can respond, the door opens and an officer enters the room with a guard. The man is of obvious high rank, based on what his medals imply, “Look, I am General Anders and I’m going to give it to you straight. The three of you are lucky to be alive! Your approach to this base should have been considered an act of hostility. Who are you and why are you on my base?!”

The three look at each other in disbelief. Tonya jumps to her feet, “Excuse MEEE!?! In case you are not aware, there is a world turned upside down out there! We are just a fortunate few that have not been infected and came here for help.
WE
are the ones you are supposed to be protecting!”

The General slams both of his hands on the table, “You are trespassing! You are in MY sector! Now, what is your true purpose here?”

Tonya comes closer to the General, “For protection and to get medical treatment for our friend!” Bringing her hand over her nose, “Maybe we can assist you in finding a breath mint!”

Patrick and Chief chuckle. “Oh! My side!” Chief’s laugh stop short, the pain is intense.

The officer, unphased, barks, “This is not fun and games that you are dealing with you IDIOTS!! You three will be given a medical review, questioned and depending on your answers, potentially released.”

Tonya bangs her fists on the table, “Released?! How long do you think we will last out there? We barely made it this far!”

Anders turns his back to walk out, but stops at the door. “Remember, you advanced this base with weapons and did not yield to security! Not to mention the damage you caused!” He points at them as he is halfway out the door, “As General, my duty is to protect the soldiers that serve this sector.”

Tonya is frustrated as the General grins and exits.  She sits with her arms folded, “He is playing us. The interrogation process has begun.”

Patrick puzzled, “What did we do wrong?  It is like we are the bad ones. I don’t understand.”

Tonya sits, exhausted, putting her face in her hands, “I don’t know anymore. I would give just about anything to be able to go back one year.” She ponders further, “What about Corey? We need to see what they are doing with him.”

Patrick looks over at her, his opinion has changed, “What about him?  We wouldn’t be IN this mess if he hadn’t come around.”

Tonya turns and points at Patrick, “You do not know that! Think about it…”

Chief has heard enough, still holding his side “Both of you stop! We need to decide what we are going to do. We have come to a fork in the road and there is no turning back now kids.”

In an observation room not far away, a Doctor reviews a chart with Corey lying unconscious on a bed. The patient has multiple IVs and machines connected to him. His condition is being monitored closely.

“Looks like we just sit back and wait…see if the magic does its thing.” Pleased with himself, Dr. Timothy Richards looks over at the door to verify no one is there. He looks down at his arm, rolls up his sleeve deciding which vein to reward. Looking up at the clock, “I’ve got some time before the next specimen needs to be taken, let’s see how this new batch came out.” He holds the vial up and inserts the syringe to extract the drug.

The door to the exam room swings open and the General enters, “How’s our patient?”

Richards a bit startled sets the drug vial down under a nearby counter and slowly unrolls his sleeve. “Stable, General Anders…I’m anxious to see how the latest application takes.” Anders stands over Corey to inspect him visually.

Just above them is a large air vent, like the one seen in the meeting room. It looks to be big enough to hold a pint-sized fireball. Tonya has made her way through the air vent to find out more about Corey. The General steps back, “What type of drug was administered?”

Dr. Richards quickly responds, not wanting to disappoint, “I thought it best to go with the Lu-Ci-4. He has not responded to the others as anticipated.”

The General looks at Richards, “Others? How many have you given him?”

The Doctor gets up to show the stat sheets, “I started him in the same order we did with prior candidates, but since he was bitten by the Zly, I felt it was time to see how the new drug acts against that infection.”

The Doctor looks over the sheets again, “SZ1A did not seem to stimulate the results required.”

Tonya sits back in disbelief and turns away from the opening not wanting to hear more. She takes a moment for a selfish thought, thinking back to a time she was younger, before the outbreak. Her youth was not a happy time. Though she was never physically abused, her environment was her torment.  She would close her eyes hoping the daily nightmares would end. But to no avail, the yelling and banging continued. The madness was persistent…being a good little girl did not distance her from the abusive displays around her. Now, older...Tonya sees that a different evil has presented itself but the emotional response is still the same for her. The aggravation never seems to end; the mundane struggle to exist can only be achieved by doing the same the thing over and over. She now finds assurance with the belief,
“Whatever it takes to stay alive!”

“I need him alive!” Her attention is immediately brought back to the exam room.  The General, stressed, continues, “….alive and improving, not doped up!” He is very aware that he will need Corey.

Dr. Richards holds up the stats again, trying to prove his actions.  “The patient has a serious wound infection. I'm afraid that may keep the drugs from working as rapidly as they have in past subjects.”

General Anders asks, “What type of wound?”

Richards hesitates, “A battle wound…to be expected, right?”

Anders knows what he wants and has no problem relaying it, “Past candidates have been bred and honed for the SZ1A program. I need to see results. I'm tired of sitting here letting the Swarm use our country as a breeding ground for their army. It is pissing me off. I need the soldiers you promised me!”

As the General walks out, the Doctor acknowledges the need, “Understood!”

Richards turns back to the patient, pulls back the gown and again, stares at the branding…and mutters, “brotherhood”.