After the Pandemic: The Enemy of My Enemy (part 1 of 2 -- hopefully) (2057 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesRating: 2 on 28 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by TheCaes (View user info) at 2005-03-08 17:57:17 EST
An addition to Jack's Pandemic series.
Introduction: http://www.ubersite.com/m/61238
Variant C: http://www.ubersite.com/m/61350
Outbreak: http://www.ubersite.com/m/61453
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It was getting darker. The sun was hovering just above the horizon, inching its way slowly into distant, unseeable lands for its nightly slumber. Its yellow had gradually darkened to a thick orange, and it bathed the city streets with an amber glow, a good night kiss. Soon it would redden and trickle from the sky. And when it died, so would Brianna. But she knew she wouldn't rise the next morning.
Or maybe she would, if she was unlucky.
Brianna tore through the empty streets as quickly as her legs would take her. Her pack was bulging with supplies; canned goods, batteries, tools. It bounced and tugged on her shoulders with every stride. Her breath was coming out ragged, and her legs felt like they were burning from the inside out.
It was just shit luck. Simple smash-and-grab, standard seven-man group. Get in, grab as much as you can, get out. Get back to the underground. Her party ran into that group of munchers. The leeches drove most of them out of the cities years ago. Brianna didn't really know why. They didn't seem to bother the vampires. She heard stories of munchers wandering around and bumping into the vampires like they didn't even notice them. Whatever the munchers were hungry for, leeches didn't have it.
But I guess if I was running things, I wouldn't want a bunch of scabby moaning stink-sacks wandering around my town either, she thought.
They didn't see them until it was too late. One of them bit John's foot halfway off before they even knew it was there. John unloaded his shotgun into its neck, but it was too late for him. He was bit. He only paused for a second before sucking down the barrel and pulling the trigger. He didn't even say goodbye.
The noise brought them all out of the woodwork. In minutes the streets were crawling with them. Brianna and her group fought, but there were too many. Just shit luck. She saw at least two more of her friends die, dragged to the ground and torn to fleshy pieces by those putrid things. Brianna broke free, but lost track of her remaining two comrades.
She had been running ever since. The path to their planned recon point was blocked. There were too many munchers for her to thread through. It wasn't zombies she was running from now, though. Now she was racing against an enemy that she knew she couldn't beat.
She squinted at the sun. Three minutes at best. Three minutes to find a foxhole or she was breakfast.
She took a left on Benton Street. There was a safehouse ten blocks from her - a hidden wine cellar in the basement of a dilapidated bungalow off the main streets. Her cell maintained regular surveillance on the foxholes, so she felt confident it was clear. Even if she didn't have faith, it didn't much matter. It was her only choice.
When she hit Givens Road, Brianna knew she wouldn't make it. It was too far and she was too spent. Panting like a pack-a-day smoker, she stopped and doubled over, hands on her knees. She looked around, eyes adjusting to the dimming light. The sewers were too risky - that's where the shakers slept. The buildings were offices and businesses, probably teeming with leeches, just waiting for a morsel like her to fall into their laps.
There. An old church. Not ideal, not ideal by far, but it was her best shot for finding something clear. Brianna thought she could already hear the rustling sounds of a city of vampires, waking at the final moments of dusk. It was impossible, of course. But she thought she could hear them. They were breathing down her neck.
The panic practically carried her to the door. Thank God, it wasn't locked. It was the only good fortune she had been shown all day. She closed the door shut behind her and ran to the altar, her legs struggling to stay underneath her.
There was no significance in her destination. There had never been any evidence that religion or its symbols had any detrimental effect on leeches whatsoever. But a lifetime of watching bad movies had formed habits, she supposed. Some ridiculously preened and square-jawed hunk would hold up a tiny cross, or fire his holy-water super-soaker, and repel the evil monsters. Then he would sharpen the cross to a stake and plunge it into the vampires heart, and it would explode into ash in dramatic and tidy fashion.
Scenes like that might have been entertaining at the time, but in the past five years their memory had become a cruel farce. If life were like that, thought Brianna, you wouldn't need anti-coagulant firearms. She sneered bitterly at her own joke.
Brianna reached leapt over the stone altar and crouched defensively behind it. Slowly she raised herself up, her head peeking up just far enough so she could see the door. The street lamps were automatically switching on, and the numerous windows blessed her with just enough light to see.
She focused on the door as if every leech in the world was going to smash through it at any second. With one hand, she hugged her knees. With the other, she held her only weapon; a hunting knife. She tried to aim the knife tip at the door, but it kept shaking and jumping in her hand; she couldn't keep it still like it ought to be.
She knew it wouldn't do her any good, and if push came to shove, she'd be better off using it on herself. Brianna wasn't sure she had the stones to stab herself to death. But she definitely had no qualms about taking as many of those bloodsucking bastards with her. She wished she had Johnny's shotgun.
Her sucking breaths echoed loudly in the small space of the bathroom. "Breathe," she said, forcing herself to take a long breath in. "Breathe." Out. "Breathe." In. " Breathe." Out.
Soon, she was back in control. Several minutes passed, and the undead horde did not kick down the door. Brianna's eyes darted around her like she was following the path of a spastic fly. It was too dark to see many details. There were dozens of unlit candles scattered along the walls and podium. Contrary to what Hollywood had taught her, there was nothing here that could be used as a weapon.
She resumed her vigil of the entranceway. She stared at it like a sentry for almost an hour before her thoughts started to wander.
She started thinking about the rest of her raiding party. No, be honest. She was only thinking about Tyler. With his clockwork smoking and army of cats treading underfoot. She hoped he had gotten past the munchers.
Brianna had drifted off into a jittery half-sleep when she heard the loud bang. Forgetting her training, she popped up into the open to investigate. She immediately regretted her rookie mistake.
"Helloooo, pretty girl," a voice called out.
"See?" Added a second voice. "I tole you, I TOLE you there was somethin' in here! I smelled it! I tole you!"
Standing in the arch of the doorway were two scruffy looking leeches. They were dressed in shabby army fatigues, with tattered white shirts visible under their open vests. They were spotted in rusty-brown stains, the color of dried blood.
Juicehounds. The bottom rung in the vampire hunting caste. Usually made up of leeches too young or stupid to be of much use anywhere else, they would prowl around the city streets at random, looking for food, or fun, or both. They had no centralizing force or discernable pattern, and so were hard to predict. Thankfully, they were about as smart as a bag of hammers. They were unorganized, never carried radios or signal devices, and rarely had any weapons more dangerous than a length of pipe or steel chain.
Unfortunately, in a face-to-face contest with a vampire, none of that really mattered.
Brianna abandoned her pack and backed away, keeping the point of her knife in the space between her and them. She didn't see another exit.
The first one swaggered down the aisle like John Wayne. A yellow smile split across his face as he smoothed his greasy hair back in its ponytail. "Whoa, whoa there, pretty girl. Don't run off!"
"Yeah, don't run off!" The second one echoed. His face was a scrapyard of amateur piercings. They stuck out of his skin at every angle, most of them lopsided and some of them rusty.
Brianna had no intention of trying to run past them. They were probably twice as fast as her. Fighting was almost equally hopeless. She might as well fight two gorillas with a set of brass knuckles as weapons. She had the choice of any cornered animal: fight or flight. With flight, she was dead for certain. It was fight or nothing.
Or maybe one other thing. She looked at the weapon in her hand. Strangely, she was holding the blade as steady as if she were cutting vegetables. She thought about the razor edge of her knife, and the softness of her neck. She thought about how comfortably Tyler's head felt resting there. She thought about dying, and about never dying.
"C'mon, sweetness," the cocky one said. "Put that thing down. You know it ain't gonna do you any good." He was halfway down the aisle.
"Hee hee, no good." The pierced one followed his partner close behind, hunched over like years of sniffing the ground had permanently curved his spine.
"Let go of the pig-sticker, pretty-girl. You'll only make it harder on yourself. We only want to have a little fun, ain't that right, Pins?"
"Yeah Tuck, you know it's right! Don't worry, girly-girl. It's not all that bad!" When he talked his head bobbed up and down as if he was enthusiastically agreeing with himself, causing some of his facial decorations to jingle quietly.
"There, you see? It ain't all that bad." He remarked, as if whatever Pins said was the honest to gospel truth. "I promise, you might even enjoy it a little." His voice was all honey-sweet confidence.
"Oh yeah?" Brianna said. "It may not be that bad, but if you try it, cowboy, I guarantee you'll lose an eye." She tried to make it sound like a promise that she could keep.
Tuck wiggled his fingers in the air in front of his face. "Ooooooohh. Scary. Don't worry sweetness, my eye'll grow back. And I bet yours taste mighty fine."
Brianna's face flushed red. Any consideration she might have given to ending her own misery was cast aside. The fucker's voice was so sickeningly creamy it was practically dripping with semen. If he was going to bleed her out, she'd make sure he'd lose just as much blood in the trying.
The juicehounds walked up to the altar, casual as a mid-day stroll, forming a V with their unwilling dinner. Brianna kept her knife back and low, ready to slash up at the first one to come close enough. Hopefully, she'd be able to sever the femoral artery or cut the hamstrings. They might not die, but it would give her enough time to get away.
She thought about her mother, and of Tyler, one last time. And then there was no more time for thought. Only action.
User Reviews
Submitted by Void_Where_Prohibited (user info) at 2007-05-25 11:26:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-04-06 09:59:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
First ATP by the Caes...
Submitted by zakalwe (user info) at 2005-08-17 17:43:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
belatedly reading the atp stories. this is a good omen.
Submitted by notyou (user info) at 2005-07-05 13:19:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2005-05-24 15:38:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You're great at discriptive writing. I hate those leeches.
Submitted by nrduncan (user info) at 2005-05-12 17:42:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I have just got done reading these all and I have enjoyed them all. Great work everyone, +2's for all!
Submitted by Benny (user info) at 2005-03-16 21:40:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This was fucking awesome.
Submitted by Faithless_Whisper (user info) at 2005-03-15 13:40:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Outstanding. And normally Vamp stuff makes me angry at the goth people who hang out in my mall. But this was not sucky at all.
Submitted by Professional_Peon (user info) at 2005-03-12 11:54:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Here is my contribution - http://www.ubersite.com/m/61730
Submitted by Avals (user info) at 2005-03-10 05:19:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
GO CITRUS JUICE WOO!
Submitted by Spam (user info) at 2005-03-10 03:35:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I've heard your name thrown around here a lot recently and never clicked on your stuff. needless to say I will in future - this is good.
Re: swearing in third person narrative, I didn't find a problem with it and understood that you were trying to lean the perspective to character
Submitted by TimeCop (user info) at 2005-03-10 01:06:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice work.
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-03-09 14:46:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by engine13 (user info) at 2005-03-09 12:46:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by indoninja (user info) at 2005-03-09 09:15:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-03-08 23:24:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
http://www.theregister.co.uk/2005/03/08/high_school_zombie_threat/
Submitted by tlozoot (user info) at 2005-03-08 22:35:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-03-08 22:22:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Thanks, guys.
Rawrg: I know what you mean, but at the point you're referring to, I was sort of trying to move the narrative towards Brianna's perspective, so I could flesh out her character a little more. I guess I need work on transitioning between narrators, which is not surprising considering I have no idea what the hell I'm doing...
Jack: "Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-03-08 18:05:34 (#)
Ranking: 2
That's right, they squeeze citrus fruit while killing you. Juicers. Jesus. I meant Juicehounds."
That was fucking hilarious. Don't retract your +2, but I was actually writing from home. I was running late for an appointment.
Well, I have Friday off and a rough idea where I'm going with this, so the second part should be up by then. Thanks again.
Submitted by spedmonkey (user info) at 2005-03-08 21:21:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Heh, semen in his voice. Eww.
Submitted by Rawrg (user info) at 2005-03-08 20:12:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Good stuff.
This is just me, and I don't know how serious you are with this story, but whenever an omniscient or abstract narrator uses slang or curse words, it pulls me right out of the story. Other than that, it was well written, strong and had a nice flow to it. Waiting on Chapter 2!
Submitted by Adamdidit2u (user info) at 2005-03-08 19:37:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Great
Submitted by stardamage (user info) at 2005-03-08 19:10:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I love this entire thing. As in, all of it.
I was expecting one from you, and now I got it, and you'd better get the next one up real fucking quick.
:)
Submitted by Saxon (user info) at 2005-03-08 18:54:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This is good stuff bring on the next one.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-03-08 18:05:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
That's right, they squeeze citrus fruit while killing you. Juicers. Jesus. I meant Juicehounds.
Submitted by Dannie (user info) at 2005-03-08 18:04:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! Clifffuckinghager from hell. ARGH!
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-03-08 18:04:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Here's another +2 for-
-Writing at work, like me, and
-Juicers. Good stuff.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-03-08 18:03:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I FUCKING liked this.
It was worth the wait.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-03-08 17:59:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Hell, I gotta go...running late. Wish I had more time to get a nicer picture and proofread a little more.
This story takes place about 5 years after the initial outbreak. Part 2 will answer a question that Jack posed in the review segment of another message...