A zombie story

[Maskan]

for your enjoyment 4 chapters in one post!

Chapter 5: No Rest for the Wicked
“Vaya con Dios, mothafu-”
*BANG*
*BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG*
“Ahh David! Just the Coke? That’ll be a dollar-fifty. How’s the family?”
*BANG BANG BANG*
*BANG*

David woke up in a cold sweat. He sat upright on the couch, unsure of where he was and what time it was. He raised his pistol and shakingly pointed it at the door, then spun around and took aim at the closet, then the window. “Where are you?” He said to no one in particular. “Where are you motherf*ckers?” He was panting heavily and the sweat dripped from his chin onto the blanket. After about a minute he realized he was all alone and lowered the gun. He flashed a look at the clock on the wall. 6:36. What time did I fall asleep? He thought to himself. He still felt weary. He wiped off the sweat with his right jacket sleeve, then pushed the blanket aside. He got up from the couch, straightened himself out, and reached into the shopping basket for a packet of Pop Tarts and a bottle of Aquafina. He chewed slowly. He wasn’t hungry.
After his silent breakfast David flicked the radio on again. Might as well try again, he thought to himself. The radio crackled to life.
“-And lastly, the city of Yonkers is a declared safe zone protected by the National Guard and the NYPD. All survivors should evacuate to a declared safe zone, no matter how safely protected they think they are in the city.”
The automated transmission looped again. David switched off the radio and got up from the couch. He looked around the room. It was a sanitary office, one previously occupied by a well paid physician, perhaps. The mahogany desk had a computer, several pens and a notepad. David checked the computer, but grimaced when he realized it was password protected. He pulled the notepad and pen over instead and began to write
*List of things to do*
-Barricade ER
-Get more food and water
-Get medical supplies
-Get to Yonkers
David then looked at the shiny pistol that he had placed momentarily on the desk. Along with the .38 that sat in front of his belt, it was the only means of protection he had against those things out there. He wrote again
-Get a better gun
-Get to Yonkers
David then placed the pen and notepad on the desk and picked up the pistol. He walked towards the door, turned the knob, and then hesitated. Whatever it is out there, I gotta be prepared for it, he thought to himself. He pressed against the door and walked out.
The hall was the same as he had left it yesterday, the lights still flickering on and off. Looking to his left at the emergency exit and it’s large, transparent door, he saw that the sun was just barely up for an hour now. He hadn’t seen a sunrise in ages, and it was a welcome change that lifted his spirits, if only temporarily.
Suddenly, from outside the door, a man walked into view from the left. David was startled backwards. The man was of African American descent, wearing a white collared shirt and tie like everyone else on Wall Street wore. But what startled David was the man’s jaw was held by barely a thread of skin on both cheeks.
The man turned right and for a second made full eye contact with David. His eyes were milky white, just like the man on the elevator’s. The man stumbled over to the door and began pounding slowly, but powerfully. The glass door began to crack.
David inched backward, pistol in hand. Then, from the outermost region of his ear, he heard a scream. A woman’s scream. But it came from outside.
The man at the door stopped pounding and turned around. He began walking away.
David walked ever slowly closer to the door. From a sharp angle he saw a young woman, Asian Descent, running away from a group of about four bloodied and shambling men and women. She turned to look behind her as she ran and tripped on the sidewalk curb. Just 20 feet away from where David stood.
Oh my God. David thought. Should I help her? If I run, they might forget about me. As he thought all of this the crowd stumbled ever closer to the girl. She got to her knees and then up on her feet, but fell again, clutching her ankle. She was going to die.
David pushed on the door and it swung out to the fresh, morning air. All rational thought had left his head. He only thought about this young woman’s life.
The first one he shot dead center in the spine with the .38 revolver. It crumpled as David heard its spine snap. It let out a moan and continued to crawl with its hands. He slowly took aim, this time using the sights, and shot it in the face.
The second one, a woman in a bloodied up white blouse with her arm chewed to the ligaments, he walked closer and shot her through the eye socket.
David was now breathing distance away from the two of them. In desperation, he charged into them, knocking one of them down on his back. He felt the man's grimy and dirty hands reach out for his shoulder and the man even managed to even tear a hole in his jacket sleeve. David turned around in time to face the last one, the man from before, the one pounding at the door. He descended upon the girl and opened his jaws. He bit down on her neck, hard, and she screamed.
David stood dumbfounded at what happened in front of him. He took aim at the man, just five feet away from him, and shot him in the side of the head. David then turned around and saw the other one that he lunged into earlier. He was still on his back and David walked forward, shooting him in the head at point blank range before he could get up. He spun around to face the girl.
She was in tears, clutching her bleeding neck. David was hesitant to approach her. He knew from watching the news religiously that infection spread through the bites. And he knew the only cure.
“Please… help me!” She begged.
“I will.” David said. He raised his revolver.
“I’m sorry.”

Chapter 6: Trust
David walked back into the hospital through the emergency side door. He continued for a few steps and then stumbled, falling against the hallway wall. He pounded hard on the wall with his right hand as his left covered his eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to tear his very being apart. Why? Why why why?? He thought to himself, each word punctuated by a slam with his fist against the wall. He laid like that for what seemed like an eternity. The only thing that broke the silence was the sound of blood dripping from his fist onto the ground. Then, he steadied himself up and got back on his feet. He walked back to the office where he slept, shut and locked the door behind him, and fell onto the couch, shivering.
…
When he awoke, the sun was already on the verge of setting. He got up once again, ate more Pop Tarts and drank more Aquafina, and then headed out the door like he did that very morning.
Outside, he remembered the revolver. He fished it out of his belt and fumbled around with it, finding the cylinder latch. He pushed it down and the cylinder swung out. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the loose .38 cartridges and stuck them in each chamber. Slamming the cylinder home, he realized he was getting good at this. Good at killing people. He shook his head and walked over to the stairwell.
By the stairwell there was a map of the hospital. Not like he needed it, as he’d been a volunteer there for a year and a half now, supplementing his job as data entry at the office a few blocks away. He checked it just to make sure. One floor down was the cafeteria. He would have to stay away from any places where people congregated, he thought to himself. Another floor below that was storage. Bingo. That’s where the non perishable food was kept, he remembered. The place was built like a fallout shelter, complete with a solid steel 2 inch thick door and no windows. If he wanted a secure place to stay forever, that would be it. But this wasn’t for forever. No, if everything worked according to plan, he’d be out of here by the end of the week and on to Yonkers. To safety. With living people.
David opened the door to the stairwell. As expected, no one would choose a stairwell to die in. It was empty and the walk down to the basement was silent except for the echoes of his own footsteps against the hollow walls. He reached the bottom floor and the two double doors that led to the basement. Cautiously, he peeked through the door windows to see through to the other side.
The hallway seemed empty and devoid of life. Along the message board on the wall David could see old memos for the janitors and managerial staff, belated Happy Birthdays and Merry Christmases and Happy New Years. Nothing out of the ordinary.
He pushed through the doors and looked left, then right. No one. Above him, the lights flickered on and off periodically. The sound of the boiler room was a low roar in the background. He walked along the tile floor towards the sign that said “STORAGE”
After a minute of walking or so David made it to the storage room. The sturdy, solid stainless steel door would have been a hefty barrier against whatever lay out there, but for now it was only a barrier between him and what he needed. David turned the latch and heard the click. He opened the door and walked into solid darkness.
The only light that permeated into the room was the light from the hall. David left the door open and prayed it didn’t lock him in here. He would go crazy if he were stuck alone in here for the rest of his life. But immediately upon opening the door, David noticed something. A sound. Something wet.
He pulled out the .38 from his belt and aimed at the darkness ahead of him. He could have sworn he heard heavy breathing as well, but after listening carefully he realized it was his own. David stepped ever closer to the sound, his eyes readjusted to fit the darkness. And there he saw it.
The Storage room was a slaughterhouse. Five bodies lay on the ground, two women, three men. He inched closer and found that four of them were torn apart, bite wounds everywhere and laying in puddles of their own blood. One of the men lay against the wall. Blood dripped from a neck wound down his arm to a puddle on the ground. The wet noise.
Suddenly David realized something. They were bleeding. The blood hadn’t thickened yet. They were killed recently. And as his eyes adjusted further, he noticed something even more chilling. Each of the bodies had a neatly placed hole in it’s forehead.
*Click*
“I’ll be taking that gun.”
The voice came from behind David. He hesitated to turn around. He felt something pressed against the back of his head, and he had an idea what.
David held his arm out slowly, letting the revolver dangle from the trigger guard.
“Thank you. Now against that wall, hands behind your head.”
David complied, fearing for his life.
“I’m just looking for food. I’m not infected. I’ll be out of your hair in-“
“You ain’t gonna get sh-t from here. See these guys? They looked healthy too. One of them wasn’t. Woke up in the middle of the night and killed them, all of them. I barely woke up in time before he started on me. Well, more food for me I guess.”
The man was patting David down. He was doing a sloppy job of it though. He missed the jacket pocket…
David slowly shifted his gaze from the wall he was pressed against. The storage room was huge, easily the size of a small gymnasium. There were aisles upon aisles of cans of food, every kind imaginable. And this man wasn’t willing to share.
“Please, you can spare a few cans of food can’t you? We can even work together, I’m going to Yonkers.”
“I don’t give a damn where you’re headed, I’m staying right here. And for even trying to bust into my home, I should kill you. Like I killed all of them. All of them.”
David listened to the man’s trembling voice. He had snapped. It was clear. And David was going to die.
David swung his arm back and caught the man’s right arm with his armpit. He grabbed with both hands, trying desperately to remove the man’s hand from the pistol it was securely attached to. The man gave a feral growl and pushed David back. The pistol fired twice, hitting the concrete wall twice.
David launched his left elbow back once, twice, three times into the man’s gut. The man finally released hold on his pistol and fell back onto the ground.
David spun around and saw the man’s eyes. They were human, not milky like the others. But they had the look of an animal’s. The man was wearing the uniform of a security guard. David had seen him before, the pudgy guard named Alan who guarded the front entrance.
But now he was someone else. Something else.
Alan gazed wild eyed at David. He spat at David, the phlegm hitting him on the right jeans leg. David took aim with the pistol and fired.
A bright flash followed that blinded David temporarily in the dark room. When his eyes readjusted again he saw Alan wheezing and blood seeping out of his mouth and a bullet hole in his chest. Alan gurgled and his head went limp on the ground.
David approached Alan and took a good look at him. He spat back hitting the dead man in the face, then he leaned down and searched the man, finding a spare magazine for the Glock 22 he now held in his hand. He took his revolver and stuck it into the small of his back. The Glock went behind his belt buckle.
David stood up once again, looking around at the Storage room. Besides for the food aisles, there was a desk near the storage room entrance. On the desk was a green satchel bag. David took the bag and walked down the aisles, throwing in cans of spam, chili and fruit. With the bag filled, he walked towards the door. Taking a quick look at the bodies in the room and the body of the man he killed, he closed his eyes and shut the door behind him.
Trust no one.

Chapter 7: A View to Kill For
Hours had passed by and David had set down the heavy desk in front of the double doors by the ER. The doors opened outward only so whatever was on the opposite side couldn’t get through by pressing the electronic door button. The heavy mahogany desk from the office made sure of that. As for the glass emergency exit door David decided that he might need an evacuation route one day so he would leave that door easily accessible. He covered the glass up with some holiday wrapping paper that he found in one of the offices and prayed that whatever was outside didn’t see him putting it up. That would only add to his troubles.
David sat down by the hall, wiping the sweat off his brow. He wasn’t by any means a buff guy, and it took quite an effort to move that desk. He pulled out his carton of cigarettes and patted the back of the box. Huh. Two cigs left, he thought. I’ll have to get more at the snack shop later. He stuck the crinkled stick in his mouth and lit it with his Zippo, snapping it shut on his leg.
David pulled out a pen and the sheet of paper he kept folded up in his pocket. He unfolded the list and checked off what was already done.
*List of things to do*
-Barricade ER V
-Get more food and water V
-Get medical supplies
David thought about this one and ruled it to be superfluous. After all, if he was bitten he was a goner any way he looked at it. And if he was shot, well those things would hear the gunshot soon enough and he’d be just as dead in no time. Check.
-Get a better gun V
-Get to Yonkers
He focused on that last line and all it represented to him. Hope. Salvation. Family. They would be there. Mom, Dad and Jen. They had to be.
David looked around at his surroundings. He’d only been here for twp days and already it felt like his permanent home. But he would have to leave soon. They would find him here eventually. And Lord knows how he would hold them off then.
Back when he used to work at the hospital David used to catch a breather and a smoke up on the rooftop with his buddies. Wonder if they’re still around, he thought to himself. He then shook his head. That was a depressing thought, and he didn’t want to sadden himself any further. He’d had enough of that recently.
He stood up and brushed off the cigarette ash from his jeans and jacket. He walked to the stairwell and climbed it to the very top, to the roof where he spent so many hours wasting time and enjoying the summer air.
Now it was winter, and the sun was setting early. He walked to the edge of the roof, stepped over and let his legs hang out over the edge. He tossed the stub of what was left of his cigarette and took in the view of the city that once was his home.
They were all dead. All of them. What used to be, what could have been, none of that matters anymore. He looked down at the streets, packed with abandoned cars that glimmered in the sunset. It would be the last time he ever saw the city like this, and he knew that well. He pulled out his last cigarette and smoked ‘til darkness overtook the skies.
He would gone by the next morning.

Chapter 8: Dawn
David slept early now, having little to entertain himself with when the sun came down. Similarly, he woke almost on cue for the second day in a row right when the sun came up. He reached into the shopping basket and pulled out a packet of Toaster Strudel and a bottle of Mountain Dew. He was getting tired of Pop Tarts fast.
He ate to his fill and decided to leave the basket behind. It would be dead weight. Plus, the food it contained wasn’t very nutritious or filling. He swung the satchel over his shoulder, checked his pistols, and decided on carrying the Glock. He exited the office and walked towards the emergency exit down the hall.
Cautiously, David peeled off the wrapping paper that he taped over the glass door. He stole a peek through the tear.
Looking off into the distance David could see the streets were mostly clear of them. Only a few here and there shambling around, but the closest ones were at least 30 yards away. In the dark morning he might be able to sneak past them. All he had to worry about was transportation.
And then he saw it. A shiny red Mongoose mountain bicycle, scuffed up here and there with a scratched paint job but otherwise pristine. It would be perfect. If it weren’t locked to the parking meter across the street.
David opened the emergency exit and looked to his sides. Nothing close by. He dashed as quickly as he could across the street.
As he dashed past the 2 lanes of immobile cars that separated the sidewalks, he noticed something eerie. His footsteps resounded throughout the area. Stopping at the bike, David looked around and saw to his horror the thing he judged to be 30 yards away. He miscalculated the distance. It was more like 15. And ever more disconcerting was that fact that it had heard David's footsteps and was giving it’s full attention to him.
The thing resembled a woman, wearing a bloodsoaked light blue blouse and with her upper lip and pieces of once beautiful hair torn off. She saw David but he merely ignored her and pulled out his Swiss Army knife. He hurriedly tried to saw the thick plastic chain off of the bike. But it would not yield.
The woman seemed to inhale. David wasn’t even sure if her lungs functioned or not. But then suddenly it let out a shriek, loud, that echoed through the canyon of buildings and throughout the entire city.
David became rattled, but doubled his efforts to cut the chain. He was about a quarter through when he heard something. Voices. Groans. Coming from what sounded like every direction. He looked up from the chain and saw them. From every alley, car, and crevice the city possessed, they came in droves. Dozens of them. Thirty of them, maybe more. And David began to panic.
“No. No. Not like this.”
They were maybe 20 feet away now, and closing in a circle around him.
David thought of dying. It wouldn’t be a bad conclusion to this mess. With the things he’d seen, he could think of a worse fate.
“No. Not like this!”
He drew the Glock from his belt and pointed it at the chain. He fired, and the crack of the .40 slug tearing through the plastic resonated on every surface the city had. But the chain broke and the bicycle was free!
David then turned, looking for a hole to pass through the crowd. He searched frantically, but could not find one. He’d have to make one.
He aimed the pistol at the largest man in the crowd, a fat CEO, and fired. But he aimed too low and the hollow point bullet hit the man square in the chest. The man stumbled back some, but otherwise was unaffected. David concentrated and fired again, this time striking the man in the nose, shattering the brain stem. The man stumbled backward and fell upon several other people, knocking them back. David fired several more rounds rapid fire, tearing into the crowd, knocking down the skinnier freaks flat on their backs. He then mounted the bicycle and pedaled as hard as he could, gaining momentum. As he reached the fat man’s corpse he pedaled harder with all of his might and the bike climbed over, just barely enough to clear the still writhing bodies that covered the floor. The sickening crunch of bones permeated the droning groans of the dead but after a few bumpy feet of pedaling, David made it past the crowd.
Woohoo! He could barely stifle his own excitement as the adrenaline coursed through his veins. He pedaled up Gold Street full force, running on pure sugar high and his endorphins. I might make it! He thought to himself.
I just might make it.

[cd2220]

AWSOME cant wait till the next one

[Kaz]

the story is pretty cool, ya know what would be a cool ending if he made it to the surviver camp but because of all he's seen he goes insane and kills every one! it be like a twist ending of awesomeness

[FLCL-SS]

Can't Wait For The Next, Man This Story's The Shit. I Love It.

[cd2220]

i was thinking the same thing kaz! lqtm,or he could hav gotten infected twards the end because the disease went air borne

[Maskan]

well you will see. 3 more chapters

Chapter 9: Exodus
After about 5 minutes of full force pedaling, David slowed to a medium speed pace, not wanting to wear himself out too quickly. To do that would be suicide, as every 20 or 30 feet he could see another one of those things on the street. Every so often they blocked his way and he had to weave past them. Along with the abandoned cars, this added more time to his already lengthy journey. The Brooklyn Bridge, Columbus Park, Chinatown, all of it passed by in a blur. Looking around at the City that Never Sleeps, David found an odd bit of irony in that it would finally live up to its name. He pedaled further uptown through the Bowery. Eventually he’d hit Broadway and It was almost a straight line from there to Yonkers. A 20 mile long road to freedom. Not bad, he thought to himself. It could be worse.
After about two hours of pedaling David noticed the buildings had gotten taller once again and the billboards started getting bigger. He slowed his pedaling to a crawl and stopped to catch his breath. He looked up at the behemoth buildings that rose from the ground and nearly blotted out the cold, early afternoon sun. He knew this place well, any New Yorker would.
Times Square.
The once brightly lit and shining beacon of the City was now nothing more than an empty wasteland. At the center of the square was a mess of abandoned cars, some of them still idling. Many of them had bloodstained interiors and shattered windows and windshields. Only these steel, gas guzzling death-boxes remained as silent witnesses to the carnage that unfolded and enveloped their passengers. At the side of the street laid an overturned double decker bus, the doors and windows smashed in. Those poor souls, David thought to himself. He reached into his pocket for the pack of smokes, but fished out an empty box. Damn, must’ve forgotten. Just when I could use one, he thought grimacing.
Suddenly, the cold air seemed to get colder and David looked up at the foggy sky, wondering what was coming. He got his answer in the form of specks of white floating down from the sky. Snow. He sat there for a while on his bike. As dangerous as it was, he could only admire the scene that was before him. Like a still-life in an artist’s studio, he thought to himself, it was almost as beautiful. Only bloodier.
Taking one more look at the scene, David noticed something he hadn’t seen before. Out of the corner of his eye, across the street and blocked by the sea of cars, a blue and white vehicle sat alone. The car was totaled; the front grill was fused with a Walk/Don’t Walk light. The driver must have lost control in the mess. But that didn’t concern David one bit. No, what caught his attention was the lettering on the car.
NYPD.
He biked over to the vehicle, stopping a few feet away. From his angle he could see that there was a passenger in the front seat. Secured tightly into his seat belt, the man wore the blue uniform of a police officer. But the uniform was in tatters and the man even more so. Nothing left but bone and specks of blood here and there. The impact must’ve killed him, David thought to himself. Those things picked him clean.
David reached over to the driver side door and pulled it open. He drew his Glock from his belt and looked carefully at the man. The man did not move. David unbuckled the man’s seat belt and pulled him out. The corpse fell to the ground, landing with a hollow thud. David searched the body and found a single spare .40 magazine for his pistol, but the cop’s gun was missing. David then searched the car. In the distance, he heard human voices. Whispers maybe. More likely hungry groans. He knew what those meant.
He hurriedly searched until he found a button on the dash labeled TRUNK. He bent down and pressed it and from behind him he heard a metallic click. He exited the vehicle and walked to the rear of the car. He opened the trunk and found a large, sturdy Pelican case, the lock unfastened. Upon opening the case, a smile stretched on his face from ear to ear.
Inside the case was a brand new Rock River Arms AR-15, chambered in 5.56 x 45mm and with five magazines, each loaded with 28 rounds to increase magazine life. It sported a vertical grip and a Surefire tactical light. Well, David thought to himself, this certainly beats the pea shooters I got. He picked up the rifle, pulled back the charging handle and shouldered it. Looking through the EOtech holosight he saw with perfect clarity a corpse in the driver’s seat of a car about a hundred yards away. Centering the red dot on the corpse’s head, he imagined the trigger pull. Bang, he thought. He chuckled silently to himself.
Another groan replied to his silent laughter, this time louder. Damn, lost track of time again! He thought to himself. He picked up the magazines for the rifle and tossed them into the satchel bag, throwing away two cans of chili to make room. That chili tasted awful anyways. David thought to himself. He mounted his bicycle and began pedaling up Broadway again. The snow fell heavier now, covering the city around him in a blanket of silent melancholy.

Chapter 10: Binary Choice
The snow fell steadily yet just as heavily as before, descending from the blank, white skies as if God or whatever Higher Being out there wept ice. The wind felt like blades on David’s knuckles as he pedaled onward. Several hours passed, and before he knew it he had passed the white blanketed, barren trees of Central Park. Those lumbering things appeared less frequently on the roads now, and the dire cold seemed to slow them down. After police began massacring them on the streets, those infected who were still alive must have sought shelter inside the buildings. David looked to the buildings to his sides, tall, red brick and window monuments that seemed to surround him from every angle. He imagined each of them festering from top to bottom with infected. And he shuddered to himself.
More hours passed, and David grew weary. His hands were now thoroughly numbed and he couldn’t feel his face. He fought the pain, but the pain was winning. Suddenly, he pulled on the brakes as hard as he could and the bike skid, slipping on the icy roads. The bike overturned and fell on its side. David hit the pavement hard, sliding for a few feet before coming to a rest. After making sure he was fine, he looked up at what made him stop.
In front of him was what used to be Washington Heights. But now it was no longer. A massive twenty, maybe thirty police car barricade cordoned off the entire area. The barricade was silent testament to a battle fought by man against man. It was broken, a large gaping hole formed through the line of cars that valiantly fought to hold back a sea of panicked drivers. And now the area was devoid of life, an endless sea of abandoned cars, blood stains and broken glass covering the pavement. Though the gaping hole, David saw them. The streets previously lined by the cars of the wealthiest people in the city now harbored their shambling, groaning bodies. The road was packed full of them. The mob of cars had a reason for passing through so urgently. They were being followed. And from what David could tell, their pursuers caught up.
Looking ahead, David saw his chances of escape from the desolate city reduced to nil. The crowds would pull him off his bike and devour him alive if he tried to bypass them. There were maybe fifty of them per block, stumbling here and there between the burning wreckages and rubble. The only choice was to turn back and find another route.
He turned around and picked up his bike, brushing off the snow that had stuck to the seat. As he duck his head in disappointment, he felt a sharp pain and the whiz of air past his hair. A large *crack* broke the silence and David fell to the ground, face flat, clutching his bleeding left ear.
“Aww sh-t didn’t get him.”
“Well then shoot him again!”
The two male voices bickered amongst themselves. David crawled as quickly as he could to the wreckage of a patrol car. He pressed his back against the front tire and kept his head low, looking up barely to scan the rooftops and windows of the buildings that surrounded him. Fear and panic filled him as his heart rate sped up.
“Hey!” He started. “I’m a human! I’m a survivor like yo-”
The hood of the patrol car then made a loud, metallic, *ting* noise and another crack filled the air. So they don’t care, he thought to himself. But at least they’re behind me. He breathed a bit easier. But where?
Looking back through the hole further up Broadway, David saw that the things that covered the streets beyond the barricade were turning to see where the noise came from. They saw him and fixed their attention, letting out hungry moans and the gnashing of their bloodied teeth. They began treading in his direction.
The hood sounded off once again as another gunshot filled the air. Ok, they’re behind me, probably using a slow weapon, a sniper rifle maybe. David thought to himself. That’s one… two… three shots. How many more until he’s empty?
The sound of another gunshot crackled through thick, foggy air as the pavement a foot in front of David popped. He’s no sniper, that’s for sure. He rolled over, his chest pressed against the cold ground, and stumbled to his feet, running as quickly as he could muster. The mob of those things was now within twenty yards. If that psycho in the building doesn’t get me, he thought to himself, they certainly will.
He ran, zig zagging and moving as unpredictably as he could, dodging a bullet every few seconds until he reached the stoop of a red brick condo. He hid under the rain cover and turned the door knob furiously. The door wouldn’t open.
David turned to face the crowd. They were close enough for him to smell their decay. The stench of death. Something that he would acquire in a matter of moments.
Not without a fight! he thought to himself, teeth bared furiously. He shouldered his rifle and fired rapidly at the crowd in every direction, not even bothering to aim. The bullets tore into their marks, ripping through the flesh of the formerly well dressed and affluent walking dead. A stray round flew and struck a tuxedo clad butler square in the face, shattering his jaw and dropping him like a rock. But otherwise David’s efforts were futile. He was going to die.
Suddenly, David heard the clicking of locks and the thump of wood behind him. The door swung open and he spun around in an instant, pointing his rifle square between the eyes of a woman. A young, blonde haired woman. She had her Ruger .357 pointed right at his throat, and her determined green eyes told him that she wouldn’t hesitate to twitch.
“I could just leave you here. But that’s entirely up to you.”
David locked eyes with the girl for a brief moment. Behind him, he could feel the crowd closing. He lowered his rifle slowly, expecting her to act in kind. She didn’t. Then, lightning fast, she grabbed his left arm and pulled him through the door. She slammed it shut and switched on all three locks, the door chain, and put a thick wooden board into the slot at the center of the door. She slid the revolver down the front of her jeans, let out a long, deep breath, and then turned to David.
“Good choice.”

Chapter 11: Live Together
David looked at the girl. A small, but not tiny five foot five, she wore blue jeans, a Hard Rock Café T-shirt and a long sleeve jeans jacket. She exhaled deeply once again, then walked past David and up the winding staircase.
“You coming?”
She disappeared around the corner and David was left staring. Beyond the door behind him he heard the incessant pounding and moaning of the mob that could have cut his journey short. Slowly, he walked up the stairs.
He reached the top and found the girl knocking on the door. One knock, two quick taps with her knuckles, then a slam against the door with her palm.
“Open up, it’s me. I’ve got company.”
The metallic sound of locks clicking and keys jingling followed, and the door opened. Two men appeared at the doorway, one of them aiming a sniper rifle at David, the other a pump action shotgun. The larger one with the rifle wore a wifebeater and khakis. He was shaven bald and looked about ten seconds away from joining the Aryan Nation. The shorter one sported a Mets jersey, a baseball cap and a sneer.
“We look like a homeless shelter?” The man with the baseball cap asked. “Then you sir can get the f*ck out. Now.”
“Brian, he can’t leave. They’re at the door.”
“I couldn’t give a flying f*ck if they were clawing after your feet. He ain’t coming in.”
“He could help us, Brian. He’s armed better than we are.”
“Then maybe I should blow his head off and take that rifle out of his cold, dead hands.”
David felt his finger wrap around the trigger of the Bersa .380 in his jacket pocket. He wondered if he could shoot through the pocket without setting his coat on fire.
“You do that and I’m leaving.” The girl said solemnly. He eyes narrowed. “I swear to you.”
The man named Brian exhaled disappointedly. He looked up at the bigger man in the wifebeater. The bigger man tilted his head to the side and shrugged. He lowered his rifle and tapped Brian on the shoulder.
“Come on. She’s right.”
Brian ever so slowly lowered his shotgun and let it hang from the sling across his shoulders. He stormed away muttering to himself. The girl walked through the door first.
“Come in. Welcome to our Home.”
David followed. The girl walked straight to the kitchen and opened the fridge. The inside light was off. Electricity must finally died, David thought to himself. She fished out a beer and using the table edge, popped the cap off.
“You drink Coors?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
She handed it to him, and then turned around and clicked on the gas stove. She struck a match and lit the stove.
“My name’s Sarah.” She said as she heated up cooking oil in the pan.
“I’m David.”
“I’m John.” A voice boomed from the back of the room. David turned around and looked at the bald man sitting on the couch, polishing the action of his bolt action rifle. “Sorry for shooting at you, we weren’t sure if you were friendly or not. And these days, it’s better to be safe than dead.”
David’s voice dropped low. “Your safety almost got me killed.”
“Please don’t blame us.” Sarah said. “A few nights ago a group of survivors came by here. They saw the lights from our candles through the windows. They almost took the front door off its hinges.”
“They were packing heat.” John continued. “The guns we’re holding right now. The ruckus they made attracted the attention of those things down the street. They tried to fight, right on the stoop where you just were.” John loaded a few rounds into the clip of his rifle, then slammed the bolt home in one fluid motion. “When those things dragged their corpses away, they left behind their guns and a small amount of ammunition.” He turned his gaze from the rifle and looked David in the eye. “This is all we’ve got.”
Suddenly, David realized that he wasn’t the only person living in fear in this disaster. There were others. And he knew where they’d all be heading.
“You guys have a radio?”
“No.” Sarah answered. “Who has one of those in their houses nowadays? Besides, this place isn’t exactly ours. I’m sure the former owners are in no shape to argue anyways.”
“Well I had one. I didn’t bring it with me, but I did hear on the Emergency Broadcasting System that there’s a safe zone just another ten miles north of here. Up at Yonkers.”
Sarah went wide eyed, but then an incredulous look crept across her face.
“Just ten miles? We’ve been here for 3 days and haven’t heard a thing.”
“Well that’s what I heard on the radio. I pedaled all the way here from Downtown.”
Suddenly, the room became quiet as John and Sarah immediately stopped what they were doing and stared at David. Across the room, a door opened and Brian’s head stuck out the side.
“Did he just say he came from Downtown?”
“Yeah, I did. What’s it to you?”
They all looked at each other. Brian spoke first.
“Dude, Downtown’s a sh-thole. What the hell were you doing there?”
“I was in my apartment at the time. I didn’t leave it because…”
A pause.
“What?” Sarah asked. “Why not?”
David was at a loss for words. A silence followed. Sarah asked again. Her voice turned sincere. “Why didn’t you leave?”
“Because my girlfriend Jen left me ok??” David snapped back. “She left me and I just couldn’t get over it! So I blazed up and drowned my sorrows for a few days and one day two punks burst into my room and shoved guns in my face! I killed them and it’s been one sh-tty mess after another til I wound up at your front door! So that’s how I got here, you wanna know my life story too???”
The room fell into a silence once again. Then, Brian slowly clapped. He clapped faster and stood up.
“Wow. That was great. Oscar worthy.”
He walked towards the room he came out of earlier and stopped for a second, then turned around.
“I almost gave a f-ck.”
He shut the door behind him and the metallic click of a lock resonated through the room. David sat down on a leather chair and put his hands in his hair, then covered his eyes. Something was caught in his throat.
Sarah stood up and walked over to him. She whispered something into his ear, then walked off back to the kitchen.
The words rang in David’s head, repeating themselves over and over again.
“Welcome to your new family.”

[cd2220]

ONLY 3 MORE, damn i was hopoing this would be really long, none the less its a great story

[Maskan]

well next time there will be 5 chapters

[cd2220]

i though u said there was only three left

[Maskan]

no there are 13 chapters left i said i posted 3 chapters and here you go 5 chapters.

Chapter 12: Intermezzo
“So how come you let me in?” David asked. Sarah was wrapping a torn strip of a white bed sheet around his head. He winced from the pain that burned at the tip of his ear. The wound was superficial as the bullet barely grazed his head. David didn’t stop to think about what would have happened had he not moved his head those precious few inches.
“I don’t know. And trust me, you don’t want me to change my mind. Hold still you pansy.”
David winced again and hissed from the pain.
“But if you let those other guys just die out there, why not me?”
Sarah looked intently off at the distance.
“They… they never gave us any warning like you did. They just ran at our doorstep and began pounding away at the door, shooting holes through it. John patched those up the next day from the inside.” She paused. “We didn’t know what they were here for. For all we knew, they could have been here to steal our food, rape me and then kill the three of us.”
David thought about her answer for a minute.
“So how do you know I’m not going to do all of that?”
She stopped, and then made eye contact with him.
“I don’t. But if you try, I’ll end you on the spot and dump your body on the stoop the next morning.”
She tightened the fabric hard, making David wince again.
“Good point.” He said with a forced smile. “But I’m one of the good guys.”
“That’s for me to decide.” She replied. She walked back to the stove and stirred the pot of pasta, then let it simmer.
“Dinner’s ready.”
…
At the table the four of them ate in silence. Looking around him, David realized he’d forgotten what it felt like to eat at the same table with other people. He’d been alone for two weeks in his apartment, hardly budging. The feeling was quite awkward.
“So how do you guys know each other?”
“We didn’t.” John said through a mouthful of rotini. “We just kind of stumbled across each other. I was passing through from Jersey. My parents are up at Boston.” He continued eating loudly. “Looking back on it, I’d say passing through the city was a bad idea.” He grinned.
“I met John on foot around the park.” Sarah said, poking at her pasta with her fork. “He was carrying a tire iron and was covered in blood. I thought he was one of them at first.”
David turned to Brian, who was rushing through his first plate and reaching at the pot for seconds. Brian stopped and looked at David.
“What? You want me to jump the bandwagon and tell you how I got here too?” His gaze went lower. David couldn’t help but stare right at the man’s bushy mustache coated in tomato sauce. “How about instead I shove this spoon up your-”
“We found Brian sleeping in a park playground.” Sarah smirked. “He was hidden away inside one of those plastic kiddy play pens, freezing his ass off.”
Brian shut up quickly. He cast a look at Sarah, then spooned more pasta into his plate and continued eating.
“We walked up Broadway,” Sarah continued. “trying our best to get out of the city as fast as we could. We found the police roadblock just in front of this house and the crowded streets ahead. We knew we wouldn’t make it past them. They saw us and we ran into the nearest building for shelter. This one right here. That was three days ago. The next day those assholes tried to break in.”
“Won’t they just stay in front of this house until you come out?” David asked.
“No, they’re easily distracted by easier sources of food.” Sarah said. She paused. “This neighborhood isn’t entirely dead.”
David went wide eyed. “There’s more people here?”
Sarah nodded. “We only know that from the screams we hear at night. The sound of a window shattering. A door crashing.” She poked at her pasta some more. “They’re being picked off. One by one. And we won’t last here.”
The table went quiet and for a minute, no one touched their food. Brian looked at his fork, turning it on his plate. He spoke.
“So what was this genius idea I overheard you talking about earlier? The one about Yonkers.”
David looked up at him. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised that Brian was eavesdropping on their prior conversation.
“I heard on the radio a couple of days ago that Yonkers has been secured by the military and police as a safe zone from infection. All healthy people in the New York area are to head there immediately, no matter how safe they think they are in their homes.”
John chuckled to himself. “When did we ever think we were safe?”
David continued. “If there even is anywhere still safe, I’d say it’d be Yonkers.”
“But how do we know it’s not just as f-cked up as the city?” Brian asked. He had given his full attention to the conversation.
“We don’t. The only way to find out is to get there. And that’s where I’m headed.” David hesitated. He deliberated for a moment, then he shot the question. “Do you guys want to come along?”
The table fell into a silence once again. Sarah, Brian and John exchanged glances with one another.
“I’m in.” said Sarah
“Yep.” confirmed John.
Brian looked around perplexed, the look on his face saying “Are you sh-tting me?” Instead of speaking though, he bit his tongue. He shrugged.
“Aww hell.”

Chapter 13: No Rest for the Wicked, Pt. 2
“Please… help me!”
David stood alone on the concrete. He looked around. There was nothing but darkness all around him. At his feet Sarah laid bleeding profusely from the side of her neck. Her face showed her fear, her uncontrolled terror. It was an expression he hadn’t seen on her face before. Her t-shirt was turning crimson from soaking up all the blood that she was quickly losing.
“I will.”
David raised his revolver.
“I’m so sorry.”
…
*BANG*

David woke up on the couch gasping for air. He pulled the Glock from under his pillow and aimed it straight at the door in front of him. The night air was chilly but quiet. Looking around frantically, waving his pistol from one corner of the room to the next, David realized he was alone. Well, almost alone. Sarah was resting on a separate couch on the opposite side of the room. She seemed at peace. Until David noticed the glimmer of the stainless steel .357 magnum Ruger revolver on her lap. David recalled semi-fondly that the thing was aimed at his Adam’s apple just a few hours ago. The revolver rested on top of her blanket, firmly under her hands. Damn, David thought to himself. She’d be ready for anything. He then listened carefully for the characteristic sounds of the night. The only things he could hear were his own heavy breathing and the soft, barely noticeable groans coming from the window behind him.
“I’d put that thing away before you hurt yourself, partner.”
David turned around towards the window and found himself facing John. The giant of a man stood to the right of the open window, a burning cigarette in his hand. He was wearing the same khakis and wifebeater from the previous day. The cold didn’t seem to bother him. Looking outside the window, David could see that the snow had stopped falling. The buildings across the street were covered in a light blanket of white that stretched from one roof to another. David pushed the blanket off of himself, stood up, and then tucked the Glock away in the front of his jeans. As he walked over to John, the gentle giant pulled out a box of cigarettes and offered one to David. David took it without a word and lit it with his Zippo. He snapped the shiny lighter shut with a pronounced *click* and leaned against the wall to the left of the window. The two men carried on in silence.
“So where you from?” Asked John.
“Used to live in Port Washington, Long Island.” Answered David. “After that, Downtown. You?”
“Newark.” Replied John. “Well, what’s an Island kid doing here in the city?”
“I picked up a job at the Downtown Hospital Office doing data entry work.”, David replied in between drags of his cigarette. “It helped pay for the rent and the weed.” He chuckled to himself.
In the distance, the shatter of a window was heard. Immediately after the sound of rapid fire gunshots echoed from far off. Then, silence. David and John looked down at the floor without saying anything.
After ten minutes or so David spoke.
“What about you? Why Jersey, why not Boston with your parents?”
John took a deep breath of the cool winter air. He exhaled for a solid half minute. Then he replied.
“I had a falling out with my dad a few months ago. The same bullsh-t about how I wasn’t living up to his standards, how I’m thirty and how I should do something with my life.”
“Yeah, reminds me of my old man.”
“Heh, you said it.”
John tossed his cigarette to the floor and grinded it out with the tip of his black, steel toed boot. He then stared off at the ceiling, somberly.
“After I drop you guys off at Yonkers, I’m heading off to Boston. I have to find him.”
David nodded. They were both looking for someone who mattered to them.
…
Off in the horizon the sky began turning a lighter hue of blue. Slowly, the buildings became illuminated and the first rays of sunlight entered the apartment flat. Sarah woke up almost on cue. She rubbed her eyes with her right hand, keeping her left around the grip of her gun. She stood up, took an odd glance at the coffee table in the center of the room, and sighed. She then walked forward and placed her gun on the table along with all the ammo she had in her pockets.
“That’s all we got.” John said.
“That’s it?” David asked incredulously.
“Yeah.”
David cast a look at the table.
On the table laid the loaded Remington 700 bolt action rifle and the spare 8 rounds of .30-06. The Mossberg shotgun laid next to it fully loaded and with another 5 rounds of 12 Gauge 00 buckshot. The Ruger revolver sat between the two along with the single speedloader of .357 ammunition.
“It’s not a lot.” David said disappointedly. “There’s quite a few of them out there on Broadway.”
“We noticed.” John replied, grinning. “So what’s your poison?”
David picked up his AR-15 and laid it on the couch, then pulled out the five magazines of ammo that he had in his green satchel bag. He pulled the Glock out of his jeans and the two spare magazines he had for it and laid them next to the rifle.
“That’s it?” John mimicked jokingly.
“Nope.”
David pulled out the .38 revolver and the 12 rounds of loose ammo he carried and laid them next to the Ruger. He then slipped out the Bersa .380 from his coat pocket and the spare magazine with two bullets left in it. He placed that on the table next to his revolver.
“I was kidding, you know.”
Brian let out a long whistle from the side of the room.
“Hoooolllly shiat. The man’s a walking arsenal.”
“Well we’ll need every bit of it to get there. Take your pick, but the black rifle’s mine.” David said.
John reached for his own rifle and the Glock. Brian took his shotgun and the Bersa. Sarah grabbed both revolvers left on the table. All of them checked their weapons and reloaded them as needed.
“Anyone hungry?” Brian asked.
“No.” Came the collective answer.
“Good. Let’s roll.”

Chapter 14: Long Hard Road Out of Hell
The heavy wooden door swung open and David was caught full blast in the face by the mid morning sun. He covered his eyes and the spots disappeared momentarily. Then he saw her. Ten yards away, a pudgy, middle aged woman in a purple dress with pearls around her neck. She turned to face David, her milky, white eyes showing the emptiness that lay inside her.
David centered the red dot of his sights on her head and shot her in the face. The loud crack of the rifle echoed in the otherwise silent morning.
“Go!”
He ran out of the building towards the barricade. Behind him, Sarah, John and Brian followed swiftly. The streets were emptier now; whatever caused the noise last night must have caught their attention. David looked through the hole in the barricade. He saw through the sea of cars the loosely gathered group of those things that stumbled here and there between the wreckages of the cars caught bumper to bumper.
“Head down the street! Watch your back!”
David looked over his shoulder just in time to catch Brian firing his shotgun at a crowd of them coming down the alley across the street. One of them got swept clean off his feet by the full force of the buckshot and lay twitching on the ground.
They ran through the hole in the barricade and up Broadway through the mess of cars. David weaved through the burning wrecks and past the shambling corpses he could avoid, stopping only to take aim and fire quick shots at the ones that blocked his way. Behind him he heard more gunshots and the rapidly paced footsteps of his comrades.
They ran up the street, it seemed the monstrosities thickened the road even more so as they progressed. Now there were thirty of them, maybe more, lining every block.
*BOOM BOOM*
David heard the blasts of the .357 magnum behind him and saw two walking corpses take hot lead straight in the upper chest, knocking one of them back and bringing the other one crumbling on its knees. Sarah took quick aim down the sights of her pistol and shot the one on its knees between the eyes. David turned back around to face front and slammed right into a large man. The man was covered in greasy and bloodstained fry chef’s apron and groaned from the impact. David fell hard on his back and shouldered his rifle, firing five times and pummeling the man’s body. He then held his breath, let the red dot center on the man’s forehead and put a bullet screaming just above the man’s right eye. The man fell to the ground and lay still.
Sarah ran up to David and stopped. She held out her hand.
“Get up!”
David nodded wide eyed and grabbed her hand. She lifted him up forcefully and he got back on his feet. In front of him he could see John taking aim with his rifle at a woman just barely 15 feet away. He pulled the trigger and a hollow “click” followed. The woman dashed at him and John pulled back his rifle, then sent it forward in a powerful motion, launching the wooden stock into the woman’s nose and sending cartilage fragments into her brain. The woman fell to the ground motionless. John slung the rifle over his shoulder and drew the Glock from his khakis. He racked the slide and continued running.
“AHHHH!”
David looked further down the street behind him and saw Brian, frantically spinning around. On his back was a small boy clad in pajamas. The boy’s mouth was jarred open and his empty, white eyes focused on Brian’s neck.
David took careful aim.
“Stop moving!”
“Does that sound like a good f-cking idea??” Came Brian’s reply.
But he did stop and the boy remained still, his head held at the throat by Brian’s left arm. David exhaled slowly, pulling the trigger. The bullet entered the boy’s right ear and exited the left, splattering the pavement with red.
Brian pushed the boy off his back and panted exhaustedly. He looked up at David, opened his mouth, but said nothing. David turned around and continued running up the street.
They had only run three blocks but already he was getting tired. From behind him he heard Sarah’s shallow and labored breathing. Yonkers was five miles away. The cars had begun to thin out on the road but the infected had not. At this rate, we’re not going to make it.
At that moment two corpses stepped right in front of him and David fired twice from the hip. The first round missed wildly and the second struck the bloodied man on the left in the abdomen. David could hear the bullet pass through and shatter a car window behind the man. He took aim at the two shamblers, just barely arms length away, and pulled the trigger. The gun didn’t fire.
“Oh sh-t.” David said to himself. The man on the left wore a bloodsoaked white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His jaws were coated crimson with the blood of his former victims, most likely his coworkers. The man reached forward and grabbed David’s arm, pulling with almost superhuman strength and trying to place the meat of David’s forearm into his mouth.
Suddenly, David saw a hand reach over his right shoulder. Inside the hand was a shiny, nickel plated pistol.
*BANG* The man latched onto David’s arm now had a third nostril.
*BANG BANG* The man to the right fell backward and twitched from the two .380 slugs that were now lodged in his spine.
David was deafened by the blast of the pistol just inches away from his ear. He clutched his ear and heard bells ringing. He turned around and saw Brian, pistol smoking in his hand.
Brian simply shrugged, flashed a forced smile, and then ran ahead.
David checked his rifle. He looked at the chamber and saw an empty cartridge casing stuck lengthwise in it. He pounded on the receiver with the palm of his left hand and pulled the charging handle back. The casing fell out the side and jingled on the concrete. He then dropped the almost-empty magazine to the ground and pulled a fresh one from his left coat pocket, slamming it home into the mag well. He ran, catching up to Brian.
*BANG BANG*
“I’m empty!” came Sarah’s voice from behind him. She swung out the .38 revolver from the small of her back with her right hand and fired more rounds at the corpses as they appeared from almost every direction.
Suddenly, Brian stopped running. David stopped short and gave a perplexed look. Behind him, he heard Sarah and John stop as well.
“Brian! What’s wrong?”
Brian’s gaze was fixed just off the road. He was staring at a car, an old car. David couldn’t make it out, but it looked like someone’s old, beat up grey Honda. It was in bad shape but it looked almost functional. Brian looked up from the car and back to the street ahead. Abandoned cars didn’t fill the streets as heavily as they did several blocks back. There were only a few here and there scattered on the road. About seventy yards ahead two burning automobile wrecks laid from one side of the road to the other, blocking the road. But besides for that, the path was almost clear.
“Brian!”
“Hold up guys!” Came the reply. “Gimme a second.” He started towards the door of the beat up Honda and pulled out a small, thin, metallic object.
“We don’t have a second!” John replied viciously. Behind him a bloody, shambling crowd was assembling. Two corpses crawled out from the front doors of a burned out SUV and clawed their ways across the pavement towards them. John raised his Glock and fired rapidly, hitting the pavement mostly but striking one of them in the cranium and the other in the shoulder, causing it to convulse.
“Just give me a minute! Hold them back!” Brian replied. He stuck the end of the thin metal widget into the door lock and began wiggling it around vigorously. “Come on, come on…”
David, John and Sarah stood in a semi-circle with their backs to the driver’s side door. Their eyes scanned the block around them. The crowd poured in from every dark alley that the city had. And now they were cornered.
“Brian.” Sarah said softly, yet sternly.
“Hold on!” Brian snapped back. A click resonated from the door lock and Brian popped the door open, sliding into the driver’s seat. He took his shotgun and pounded on the dashboard, shattering it and revealing the multicolored wires that were the brains of the vehicle.
The crowd was 10 yards away now. At this distance David could make out what had turned each of them into a mindless, cannibalistic freak. A bite on the arm. a torn off ear. A severed limb. A tragic, barely noticeable scratch on the face. Each wound was evidence of the last moments these people had while their minds still controlled their bodies.
David raised his rifle and fired at the closest one. Sarah and John followed, putting round after round into the lurching crowd. Searing bullets tore into the flesh of their targets, knocking some of them down and killing a few others. But for every one they killed, five more seemed to take its place. Their hope was dwindling quickly.
*BANG BANG BANG BANG* *click*
“Reloading!” shouted Sarah. Sliding the .38 down her jeans, she pulled out her Ruger, swung the cylinder out and dumped the empty shells clattering on the pavement. She slid the speedloader into the cylinder, twisted the rounds free and slammed the cylinder home, firing six more shots in the blink of an eye and dispatching more members of the mob. She then reached back and grabbed the shotgun Brian left leaning against the car door and turned around, firing again and again.
John picked his targets carefully and slow-fired, putting a round into the head of one after another until the slide locked back on the Glock. He backed up against the rear door of the Honda sedan, shoving a fresh magazine from his pocket into the mag well and taking aim once again at the crowd
David looked around, aiming carefully but quickly, killing two of them every second. They were five yards away now. In a few seconds they would be at arms length and the four of them would be torn to shreds.
*VROOOOOOM*
The sound of the car engine starting surprised the three of them. Brian looked up from the dashboard, his face covered in sweat. Inside the dash David could see several wires with their insulation stripped clean off and the ends reattached to one another.
“Get in!” Brian yelled.
John, leaning against the rear left door of the vehicle already, reached down and pulled the door open. Sarah fired another round from the shotgun at the crowd, then dove into the backseat. David turned around.
“Hurry up!” John said, holding the door open.
But they were too close. One of them grabbed David by the arm. He shook it off as hard as he could, and then backed against the front left wheel of the idling car. One of them grabbed John by his wifebeater and he kicked it off, propelling himself backwards into the backseat on top of Sarah. He raised his Glock and fired wildly at the hands reaching through the door.
Thinking fast, David jumped on top of the car hood. He grabbed hold tight onto the windshield wipers, and then faced Brian through the windshield.
“DRIVE!”
Brian stepped hard onto the gas pedal, sending the little car speeding forward. The inertia slammed the open rear door shut. Some of the freaks got caught under the tires of the vehicle. The sound of bones crunching and muscles popping made David sick to his stomach, but he held on for dear life.
One of the quicker ones fell onto the hood from the front, shattering its ribcage on impact with the grill. It grabbed David’s leg and let out a horrible moan.
David, holding onto the wiper with his left hand, placed the barrel of his rifle against the thing’s forehead. It seemed to realize what was coming and simply moaned again. David turned his head to the side, closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger.
The monster’s head disintegrated, showering the car hood with blood. The vehicle was moving a steady 30 miles per hour now and some of the blood got caught into the wind and speckled David’s clothes. The monster let go, then fell off the hood and under the left tire, giving the sensation of a speedbump to the occupants inside.
Brian continued for a bit and then slammed on the brakes. David heard the snap of the windshield wiper and fell off the hood onto the pavement. He stood up quickly, dazed but fully aware of the crowd that had now fallen to 20 yards away. He stumbled over to the right passenger door of the car, opened it, and collapsed on the seat. Brian hit the gas again and the door shut itself.
“Hold on!!!”
David looked up through the windshield and noticed that they were rapidly approaching the two burning wrecks that blocked the road. In fact, that little voice inside his head told him that they were on a crash course for those cars. He reached for his seat belt frantically. Too slow.
The Honda collided with the two wreckages at a good 35 miles per hour. David suddenly got a good taste of the glove compartment. He pushed back into the seat, his head pulsating with pain. When he pulled his hands away from his bleeding forehead he looked ahead through the windshield.
The roads were almost cleared. There were less cars on the road and the few that remained Brian could navigate past with ease. David looked behind at the backseat. John and Sarah were on top of each other on the floor of the car, breathing heavily. David began to laugh, but then cut himself short because he needed that oxygen for his burning lungs.
Everyone was panting heavily and quickly now. The cold car windows rapidly fogged up from the inside. Brian switched on the windshield wipers, grimacing when he realized that David was now clutching the right wiper in his hand. For a while, only the sound of the car engine and their own heavy breathing filled the air. No one spoke.
“Brian…” David began.
“Alright, before you start lecturing me about how I’m a dirty car thief and I’m the lowest of the low I want you to know I just saved your sorry asses and you can shut the hell-“
“Brian.” David began. He paused to exhale. “Thanks.”
Brian stopped mid-sentence. He passed a quick, nervous glance at David from the side, then focused on the road again.
“…Anytime.”

Chapter 15: Faith
The car hummed silently as it trekked across the vacant streets and past the buildings that seemed to get smaller and smaller. They were out of the big city and David let out a sigh of relief. His sigh was cut short by the stinging sensation on his forehead.
“Owww, take it easy.”
“Shut up and let me work.” Came the reply from the seat behind David. Sarah turned the bandages on David’s head around, letting a clean portion rest on the bloody gash on his forehead. “Why do I always have to play nurse?” She asked no one in particular.
David smiled. “Hey doc, I’ll show you mine if you show yours.”
She tightened the bandages hard and didn’t let go for a second. David cringed, but kept smiling. Déjà Vu, he thought to himself. She finally tied a knot and sat back into her seat, muttering to herself.
A few minutes passed by, and David looked up out the side windows. The sun was shining brightly in the early afternoon sky. The snow had mostly melted now and the air was warmer than it was the day before. For some reason, David felt like it was a good day to go to the park. If only it weren’t a festering hellhole, he thought.
“Hey guys!”
Brian’s voice broke the temporary silence in the car. John looked out the windshield and his eyes lit up like a kid’s on Christmas morning.
“There it is.” David said grinning. He was looking at the sign on the right side of the street. It shone like a beacon of hope in the desolate city that once was.
Welcome to Yonkers.
From the back seat Sarah let out a loud whoop and John was laughing loudly and heartily.
“Hah hahhhh! We made it! We made it out!” He said.
Brian continued driving with a smile on his face. David leaned back into his seat and grinned at the sign as it passed by the car.
We’re safe, David thought. Safe at last.
…
About a half mile into the city David saw another sign, this one written neatly with a thick Sharpie marker. He read aloud.
“To the Safe Zone”
An arrow pointed to the right and Brian turned off Broadway down Park Hill Avenue. More signs followed, one at every corner, redirecting them several times. Even if he wanted to, Brian couldn’t steer off the road that the signs were pointing them towards. All other roads were blockaded by patrol cars and armored SWAT vans. Brian steered into Van Cortland Park Avenue and continued down the road. Looking down the road, David saw Sutherland and Pelton Parks in the distance. But he also noticed something he hadn’t noticed before when he passed through here ages ago. Towers were erected in the park. Guard towers. And David could vaguely make out people inside them. Two people in each tower, one with a pair of binoculars and the other with a rifle. Looking down from the towers David saw that on each entrance of the park there were two large piles of sandbags, one at each side of the entrances. Behind the sandbags David could see men dressed in Army uniform standing behind large, bipod mounted machineguns. David saw that the guns were pointed towards the Honda. Looking around the car, he saw that everyone else noticed too. Then, David heard a sound in the distance. Something sharp and high pitched. It sounded like feedback. Then the crackle of speakers.
“ATTENTION. THIS IS THE NATIONAL GUARD. SLOW DOWN YOUR VEHICLE TO 15 MILES PER HOUR OR YOU WILL BE SHOT. YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS TO COMPLY.”
The voice boomed from the direction of the park. Brian shrugged, then hit the brakes and watched as the speedometer needle fell from 40 to 15 in just a few seconds.
“GOOD. NOW PARK YOUR VEHICLE TO THE SIDE OF THE ROAD AND EXIT IT IMMEDIATELY. IF YOU HAVE ANY WEAPONS, UNLOAD THEM IN CLEAR SIGHT AND HOLSTER THEM. THEN PLACE YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD AND WALK FORWARD, SLOWLY.”
“I don’t like this.” John said solemnly. His voice went low. “It could be a trap.”
David turned around and looked at him.
“We don’t have a choice anymore. If we turn the car around, they might shoot.”
Brian slowed the car even further. He parked it along the side of the road about a quarter mile away from the park. David noticed that both sides of the road were quite heavily packed with other cars. Brian pulled the wires in the dash apart and the car sputtered and died. The four of them worried exchanged glances. Suddenly, Sarah opened the door.
“Sarah, wait!”
David called out, but she didn’t listen. She walked out of the car, holding her hands up and letting the shotgun dangle from the sling across her shoulders. Then, slowly, she reached for her shotgun and pumped it rapidly several times, letting the shotshells in the magazine fall to the pavement. She pulled out both revolvers and methodically opened them one after another, dropping the empty shell casings in the cylinders on the ground. She slipped both guns into her jeans and walked forward with her hands held behind her head.
Brian got up next. He pulled out the Bersa from his jeans pocket and unloaded it, then slipped the gun and magazine away and held his hands behind his head in silent surrender.
David looked up at John. The giant had a look of regret on his face.
“I’m not going to die here.” He said.
“Neither am I.” David replied.
Slowly, they both exited the vehicle.
“YOU TWO THERE, WITH THE RIFLES. DON’T UNLOAD THEM. TOSS THEM TO THE SIDEWALK. NOW.”
John hesitated, then shot a look at uncertainty towards David. He held out his arm and reluctantly threw the Remington away. David followed, tossing his AR and hearing it clatter on the ground. They walked forward in complete compliance. They joined Brian and Sarah and walked the quarter mile in silence.
Soon they were within 100 yards of the park. As they plodded forward the men behind the mounted machineguns followed their every footstep intently with their eyes and the barrels of their guns.
At 50 yards, four soldiers darted out of the park entrance. They ran straight bee-lines toward the David and the others, surrounding them.
“Down on the ground! Face flat! Spread your legs!”
The soldiers held assault rifles and wore gas masks over their faces. They aimed their rifles square at David and the others. They complied.
One of them began patting down Brian. He finished, taking his Bersa, and moved to Sarah. The man snatched away her shotgun and revolvers then finding nothing, he moved on. He found absolutely nothing on David. And then he moved on to John.
The man patted John a few times then felt around the small of his back. He felt closer, to make sure he wasn’t imagining things.
“Huh? Sarge this guy has a gu-”
With lightning speed John spun around and grabbed the soldier who was searching him. He put his muscular left arm around the soldiers neck in a headlock and pulled him down so his own body was covered almost completely. In his right arm was the Glock, aimed at the shaking soldier’s head.
“Put down the gun! We’re here to help you!” One of the soldiers removed his gas mask, slowly. The man was of Latino descent, with light brown skin and curly hair. He appeared to be the leader. He spoke with a degree of calm to his voice that David hadn’t seen in anyone since he shacked up in his apartment.
“No, you put your guns down! And call off those f-cking snipers!” John was bug eyed. The soldier he was clutching was terrified.
The man shot a look to his compatriots. He tossed his rifle to the ground. The other soldiers followed. He reached for his ear piece and spoke into it.
“Overwatch, this is Sergeant Jimenez. Call off scout teams Alpha, Bravo…”
He looked back at the shaking soldier that John was clutching. A wet spot formed on the soldier’s camo pants. The boy soldier whimpered.
“…Just call off all of them.”
David looked up from the gravel and saw that the soldiers in the towers slung their rifles over their shoulders and stood up staring. The men behind the binoculars kept steady watch, their lips moving, delivering news of everything they saw to some unseen headquarters.
“Now what do you want?” Asked the unmasked sergeant.
“I want… I want…” John stuttered. He didn’t know what he wanted.
Jimenez spoke again, in the same tone he used earlier.
“We’re not here to hurt you. You came here looking for shelter right? Safety. We can give you that. Just put down the gun.”
He looked at John. David saw that the man wore the tired eyes of someone who’d seen far too much. Just like he did.
“John,” David spoke. “Remember yesterday I was at your door? You and Brian stuck guns in my face and he was gonna kill me, blow my head clean off.”
“Hey! I wasn’t go-”
“But you said no, and you convinced him to stop. You saved my life there, took a leap of faith and believed in someone you had never even met.”
David stood up and looked at John. The giant was on the verge of tears.
“Can you do that for me now?”
John looked at David, unsure of what to do. He closed his eyes and a tear escaped, falling from his left cheek onto the cold pavement, turning to ice. He lowered the Glock slowly and placed it on the gravel. A soldier walked forward gingerly and picked it up, clearing the magazine and the chamber. John released his grip on the soldier. The two other soldiers helped him up. Jimenez picked up his rifle. He dusted off the bits of snow that had clung onto the receiver, then in a swift movement, slammed the stock hard onto John’s forehead.
“John!” Sarah screamed from the pavement.
The giant fell backward, the two soldiers who helped him up catching his limp body before it fell to the ground.
“Take him to the holding cell.” Jimenez said.
He turned away and locked his eyes with David’s. David was shocked. Jimenez walked past David, patted him on the shoulder, and continued towards the base.
“You’re lucky I didn’t shoot him.” He said. The man raised a finger and pointed up to a building just 30 feet to the left of the scene. David looked around and just barely caught glimpse of two men in a dark window. One of them had a rifle shouldered as he looked down at John, making a gesture with his hand in the shape of a gun and then “firing”. They could have killed John and ended it right there if they chose to.
Sarah and Brian stood up. The two soldiers carrying John stumbled over to the base. The last soldier followed suit, still shivering from his near death encounter. David, Brian and Sarah looked at one another. They were no longer being supervised by anyone. They were free to leave.
Slowly, they walked towards the park.
A leap of faith.

Chapter 16: Elysium
“Follow me.”
Jimenez walked through the park without once turning around. Behind him, David and the others walked slowly through the fortified encampment. The barren trees glistened with melting snow in the afternoon sun, dripping water onto the ground into puddles that flowed around the park. David looked around himself. High, pointed fences surrounded the park on every side except for the entrances. It was secure, alright.
Inside the park David could see several large, brown tents pitched up on the wet grass. As he walked past the tents he could see tables and uniform clad men and women typing away on laptops. The sound of radio chatter surrounded him from all sides. As he continued, David looked into another tent to his right. Through the flaps of brown canvas he saw a uniformed man lying on a stretcher with a cast around his right arm. On his other arm were a series of bloody teethmarks that went through the sleeve and into the flesh.
Jimenez whistled and a tan skinned soldier who was running past him stopped and saluted. Jimenez spoke rapidly in the man’s ear; David could barely make out the foreign words.
“Pegale un tiro. Rapido.”
The soldier’s eyes widened, then he nodded and walked over to the tent where the wounded man lay on the stretcher. David continued following Jimenez past the encampment. After a short moment, a gunshot rang out behind him. Sarah and Brian stopped and flinched. Then, the three of them continued walking. In front of him, David saw Jimenez pass the end of the tents and continuing beyond the park, stepping out onto the street.
David stepped onto the street and looked to his sides. At the back entrance of the park there were two more pillboxes with machinegun emplacements. The men at the guns stood relaxed, but vigilantly. David followed Jimenez around the corner of the street. Looking down the ends of the road he could see a barricade of sandbags and more machinegun-toting soldiers at the ready. They were on every intersection that surrounded the park.
Then, turning around the corner, David saw it. A large and concrete building two stories high that spanned the entire block before him. His eyes searched the building, then came to rest on a large sign with gold lettering.
Yonkers High School.
“This way.” Jimenez said. He walked towards the entrance of the building and as he approached it the two men at the door saluted. He held the door open for David and the others.
“After you.”
David allowed Sarah to pass, then Brian, and then walked through the glass doors himself. Behind him he heard the doors shut and Jimenez following.
“Welcome to the Yonkers Safe Zone, aka Ground Base Delta. I’m First Sergeant Alberto Jimenez and I will be your guide on this tour of our facilities.”
David noticed that besides for the slight twang of what he could only guess was a west coast accent, the Sergeant spoke perfect English. They continued walking through the halls and turned a corner.
“The facility you are in is the main base of operations for the First New York National Guard, Company Foxtrot. It is home to all 96 of us as well as 30 some-odd NYPD boys and girls in blue. We all defend this facility with our lives. Lastly, it is also the current home of the 487 refugees that have made it here safely from the Tri State Area since we secured this facility a week ago.”
“That few?” David asked. He was surprised.
Jimenez shrugged.
“You guys were out there for a while. How many living people did you see on the streets?”
They continued down the halls. Looking to his left and right, David could see each of the classrooms in the building was occupied by several soldiers. The desks were cleared off to the sides of the rooms and instead sleeping bags lay on the floors. The soldiers lying on their bags were cracking jokes with one another. One of them was on the floor reading a dirty magazine.
Jimenez walked into the room with the same calmness he always seemed to exhibit. With lightning speed, the four soldiers who occupied the room stood up and saluted. One of the soldiers had his left arm hidden behind his back.
“I’ll be taking that contraband, Private.”
The soldier made a disappointed face and his hand reached out from behind his back, holding the rolled up copy of Penthouse. He handed it over to Jimenez.
“Thank you. At ease, gentlemen.”
The Sergeant walked out of the room and back into the hall where David, Brian and Sarah stood looking in. He continued down the hall, rolled up magazine in hand. They turned right at the corner of the hall and he continued talking.
“The Commanding Officer or CO of this base is Captain Richard Hein. You will refer to him only as Captain Hein or Captain for short, but nothing else.”
The four of them stopped at a set of double doors that stood before them. Above the doors was a sign with white lettering. Gymnasium.
The Jimenez stepped forward and opened the doors. Inside, David couldn’t believe his eyes.
There were people. Hundreds of them, crammed into a room the size of two basketball courts. They were all spread out on the floor, laying and sitting on top of towels and blankets that they had probably brought with them. The sound of chatter filled the air as David scanned the room from left to right. Over in the bleachers he saw more people resting, laying on their backs, holding each other and their families, kissing their loved ones passionately. One raggedly old man was even playing his guitar and singing solemnly to himself. David recognized the song.
“I look at the world and I notice its turning
While my guitar gently weeps…
With every mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently weeps…”
So many of them, David thought to himself. So many people who made it out just like him. He wanted to smile, but something in the atmosphere didn’t permit him.
The Sergeant then closed the doors. He turned around and looked at David and the others. His voice and his gaze went low and serious.
“I have to bring you to the Medical Bay first before I let you in with Gen Pop. Assuming you’re clear, then you can join the rest of the people in there. For some reason, I think you all will do just fine. Follow me this way.”
Jimenez walked past David and the others. Then, Sarah spoke.
“…What are you going to do with John?”
Jimenez stopped.
“He’s currently quarantined. We already ran a check up on him.” The Sergeant pointed to his earpiece. “I’ve been told that he’s healthy and now conscious. But we’re gonna keep him in there for a while until we’re sure he’s not a threat to my men or anyone else.”
“He isn’t!” Sarah yelled out. “He won’t hurt anyone!”
Jimenez turned around, slowly.
“Tell that to Private Garrett who almost lost his head this afternoon.”
He turned back around and walked forward once again towards the direction of the Nurse’s office. He held the door open for them.
“Right in here. I’ll come back to check on you guys after.”
David followed Brian and Sarah in. He looked back and took one last glance at the Sergeant. Jimenez flashed a forced smile, his eyes still bearing the weary look that never disappeared from his face. He let the door go and it closed by itself. David kept his eyes fixed on the door window and saw the Sergeant walk off down the hall and disappear around the corner.
…
The checkup was thorough but uncomfortable. Sarah was moved into another room and searched by a female medic in uniform. David and Brian were in the same locked room, searched by a man wearing a uniform, a surgical mask and latex gloves. After the thorough wound search blood tests were taken and medical histories were recorded. Sarah walked out of her room and back into the main room of what used to be the Nurse’s office. David and Brian were waiting patiently for her and when she walked out they both stood up.
“So…” Brian began. “What’s next?”
The three of them looked at one another in silence. Off to the side, a young brunette woman in uniform typed vigorously on her laptop, the sound of keys being punched rapid fire filling the air.
“I dunno.” Sarah replied, staring at the ground.
“Maybe we should ask to see John.” David said.
Sarah and Brian nodded. The three of them walked out the door and back into the hall. Leaning against the wall to the left of the door was the Sergeant.
“Your friend’s in the boy’s locker room. We tossed him in there and locked the door while he was unconscious.”
As they walked past the gymnasium and around the corner, David could hear something. It sounded like the thump of wood, over and over again. He looked around the corner and saw a door guarded by a single soldier, rifle in hand. The door was almost shaking off its hinges.
“As you can see, he’s awake now.”
Through the door David heard the muffled yelling.
“LET ME OUT! YOU CAN’T KEEP ME HERE!”
David turned to the Sergeant.
“Please, Sir, can you let him go? He doesn’t even want to be here. He’s just passing through. He’ll leave the base peacefully.”
“No-can-do. He attacked one of my men earlier. He’ll stay here at least until tomorrow, and then the CO will think of what to do with him.”
David shot another glance at the door. It still shook wildly. John kept screaming. Jimenez turned around and walked back up the hall.
“I’ll be in my office if you need me, room 231. Supper’s at 1800. I hear tonight’s Salisbury steak night.”
The Sergeant walked up the hall alone and disappeared around the corner once again. David, Sarah and Brian walked back to the Gymnasium. They pulled open the double doors and walked back inside, looking around at the people that filled every square foot of the large room. Off on the bleachers, the old man still played quietly on his guitar, singing to no one in particular. Somewhere in the deafening chatter, the sound of a woman crying could be heard. David thought to himself.
Just like Heaven.
...

[cd2220]

the soldiers may seem mean, but i can understand, there taking every measure possible to make sure nothing bad happens

[Maskan]

i know it makes me mad too

[cd2220]

ya, it must suck to be them, everyone probably thinks there mean and cruel, when there just doing there job, and there not even getting payed either!

[FLCL-SS]

This Story's great, I Was Thinking They Were Gonna Shoot John After He Let The Soldier He Had Hostage Go Though. You Never Know What's Gonna Happen Next In This Story Though And That's One Of The Qualities I Love About It. How Many Chapters Are Left In It? I Hope Quite A Few, Is All I Can Say.

[Kaz]

AWESOME when is there more, hmmm the military could be crazy or not crazy, they could be doing test on an infected and it escapes and kills ppl