Authors: Mark Campbell
Naked men and women started to emerge out of the breached
dining hall sally port, moaning and staggering towards the fresh prey.
Chains were draped around their legs and meat hooks dangled from their
flesh like gaudy jewelry.
The marauders fired at the people pouring out of the gate but the
numbers were too great; the marauders had no choice but to pull back for
the time being and take their place back up on the hill.
Inside the back of the dining hall where the bodies had been
hung to drain, hundreds of chains lay on the floor. Most of the corpses
had shuffled away but a handful remained snared by their chains. They
snarled and pulled at the chains that bound them, entangling themselves
more in the process.
One of the vegetable freezer doors in the corner of the room
slowly opened and Andrew and Jones stepped out of their hiding spot to
survey the scene, weapons ready.
“Don’t waste the ammunition,” Andrew said, glaring at the rabid
corpses as they swayed. “Gunfire would just lead the ones outside right
back towards us.”
Martinez and Jerri crept out of the freezer next.
Jerri held the bundled baby against her chest.
“Now we sneak out the back and hope we avoid the gunplay
going on at the front of the building,” Andrew said, nodding towards the
rear sally port.
“On it,” Martinez said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. He ran
towards the sally port and searched for the mechanical override
mechanism.
Jones rolled his eyes.
“And what part are you playing? The nagging wife?” Jones asked.
Jerri seethed with anger and stepped towards him.
“Knock it off you two. Jesus Christ,” Andrew muttered, shaking
his head. “This is not the time. Hopefully the horde flushed the civilians
out the front gate and overwhelmed the marauders, forcing them to back
off and give us a little breathing room. Now is the perfect chance for us to
make our move. Jones, watch Jerri’s back.”
The group walked out the rear of the building and found that the
area behind the dining hall was in complete disarray. Multiple shamblers
were clustered around the slain lying on the ground, gorging on them.
Smoke was thick in the air and the cries of the dying coming from
throughout the camp were deafening.
One of the gangly corpses, a former FEMA officer, turned away
from his eviscerated meal at the sound of Andrew’s voice with a tattered
piece of intestine hanging out of his mouth. He dropped the meat and
stumbled to his feet, moaning.
The other shamblers nearby stopped eating and looked up
towards Andrew and his group. They all started to clamor to their feet and
move towards him in an awkward gait.
Martinez fired and blew the top of the officer’s skull open.
The creature stumbled and fell to the ground.
The gunshot drew even more attention.
Andrew took off running down the alley next to the dining hall,
the alley next to Jerri’s torched dormitory. Martinez and Jones followed
close behind, popping off shots at any shamblers who got within arm’s
reach.
Jerri struggled to keep up in the rear, cradling the baby against
her. Her leg muscles throbbed and her lungs burned as she started to lag
behind.
Andrew turned the corner and ran down another alley situated
between two sealed dormitories. Both were on fire. The tent encampment
in the alley had been torn to shreds by the earlier barrage of arrows.
Haggard tenuous reanimated corpses staggered out from behind the
tattered tents, swiping at Andrew with their boney hands.
Andrew shoved the infected back, shooting only when he had
too. Most of the frail bodies were flung aside and went down easily
enough .
Jones and Martinez stayed close together, terrified. They popped
off shot after shot and ended up going through their limited supply of
ammunition in no time at all. They dropped their depleted weapons and
drew their batons, caving in the skulls of any infected who encroached
upon them.
Jerri shoved her way through the clawing infected and kicked
their dusty skeletal frames aside. A reanimated woman emerged from
behind one of the tents and clawed at baby Jacob, moaning, tearing
through the shawl that covered the child.
Andrew turned another corner and saw the medical barrack
ahead. Unfortunately, the alleyway was thick with shamblers and it would
be impossible to pass though unscathed.
The shamblers in the alley took notice of Andrew and started to
trudge towards him, arms outstretched, making hungry guttural moans.
Two FEMA officers wearing riot gear were at the head of the pack,
tainted arrows protruding from their thick tactical vests.
Andrew stepped back and searched for an exit. Dorm 16 was on
his left and Dorm 17 was on his right; both were standard dormitories so
both had skylights.
“We’re going to have to take one of dorms, go through one of
the skylights, and jump down in front of medical,” Andrew quickly
explained. “The alley isn’t going to cut it.”
“Medical is on the other side. We need to snake through one of
the dorms,” Andrew said. He ran towards Dorm 17 and pressed his ear
against the sally port door, listening carefully. “The dormitories are still
under emergency lockdown, but my pass can override the lock. Now it’s
just a matter of picking the right curtain…”
Jones stared at the approaching horde and panicked. He ran
towards Dorm 16 and started to bash the sally port’s keypad with his
baton, making it spark.
“One dormitory is as good as another! Stop fucking around!”
Jones yelled. He bashed the keypad one last time and the controls shortcircuited.
“I tried warning that fucking idiot! The skylights are not arrowproof!” Andrew shouted. His hand was forced as the infected approached
from every direction. He quickly punched in his code and Dorm 17’s sally
port opened.
“Manual lockdown? That’s odd,” Andrew muttered at the
computer’s response. “This dorm was locked down by the occupants
before the emergency lockdown took effect…”
D
orm 17’s hallway was far from welcoming. Most of the lights
were off and the skylights had been covered by plywood. The air smelled
like rot. Dried blood streaked the sides of the wall. Thick puddles of
crimson caked the carpet. Along the length of the corridor were many
candles, melted and long since extinguished. Most of the dormitory doors
were closed and the buzzing of flies filled the air.
The air was stale.
The dorm hadn’t been accessed for quite some time.
“I don’t like this,” Jerri muttered, scanning the area cautiously.
She slid the knife from underneath her belt and gripped it tightly, ready.
Jacob made muffled cries into her chest, kicking and screaming.
Many religious talismans covered the dresser. A half-decomposed
man lay dead on the center of his bed, both wrists slashed. He held a
razor blade in his left hand. An aged, tattered bible lay on his chest. Two
pennies covered his eyes.
The skylight above his bed had been boarded shut.
Martinez stepped back into the hall and looked over at Andrew.
“Fanatics,” Andrew said. “That plywood wasn’t to keep the
arrows out, but rather to keep the sunlight out. Let’s just keep moving and
see if we can find an empty room to work in. I’d rather not choke on
decay while I’m trying to pry plywood off the ceiling with my bare
fingers.”
Jerri didn’t like any of it. She heard about the fanatics – even seen
a few around - but never saw a dorm full of them. The fanatics thought
that they had been left behind on Judgment Day and were tasked with
making penance through various forms of mortification of the flesh. It
seemed their perverse take on religion had grown popular throughout the
camp recently.
Jerri lost her religion many years ago and wasn’t too concerned
with finding it again. She held Jacob against her chest and walked down
the middle of the hall. The child screamed and wailed; his cries echoed
down the desolate hall.
Room after room they passed reeked with the same stench of
decay and excrement. They passed the bathroom and saw that the FEMA
poster hung above the sink had been vandalized.