After the Pandemic: Genocide (10): The Feeding (661 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesLabels: After_the_Pandemic
Rating: 1.72 on 17 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Axolotl (View user info) at 2006-02-17 10:06:48 EST
Jack McCallum's Introduction - http://www.ubersite.com/m/61238
After the Pandemic: Genocide (1): The Variants - http://www.ubersite.com/m/79933
After the Pandemic: Genocide (2): The Armory - http://www.ubersite.com/m/80119
After the Pandemic: Genocide (3): Times Square - http://www.ubersite.com/m/80429
After the Pandemic: Genocide (4): The Highbridge - http://www.ubersite.com/m/80522
After the Pandemic: Genocide (5): Stars and Stripes Forever - http://www.ubersite.com/m/80836
After the Pandemic: Genocide (6): Against the Grain - http://www.ubersite.com/m/80897
After the Pandemic: Genocide (7): Infiltration - http://www.ubersite.com/m/81839
After the Pandemic: Genocide (8): The Crucible - http://www.ubersite.com/m/82506
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PART TEN - The Feeding
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"You just had to do it, Brandon," Michael said, clicking another round into his weapon as they sat there in the more subdued muttering of the armory.
"I couldn't help it...honestly...I can't go without blood..."
"You promised, Brandon!" Michael exclaimed querulously. "You said you could hold it in! What if you kill somebody else? What if you kill Jennifer, or...or anybody, even!"
"I promise, Michael, it wasn't on purpose," Brandon said, imploring him to believe him. "She was there, exposed, defenseless...I was just seized..."
There was an awkward silence. They were friends, and had had their share of squabbles and fights in the past, but this was different. Brandon had committed a murder. Variant C zombie or not, Brandon had performed a crime on an innocent woman.
"Attention, attention!" said a voice over the intercom. "To all adult males in the armory! Be prepared to be armed and called into service to defend your lives! Variant C forces are massing outside these walls."
"Brandon, what can we do?" Michael asked.
"I don't know, Mike," Brandon replied. "If I had any idea...this isn't normal, Mike. I don't have the slightest clue how to stop this, and it's scaring the hell out of me."
"Just...be careful...don't kill anybody. I don't know what to say to you, except that. I've known you for so long, but..." Michael said.
"I'm sorry, Mike! I'm sorry!" Brandon moaned. They sat together, not daring to look at one another. Michael turned away, and breathed deeply.
* * *
President Derringer and Governor Damien Richards sat in Hackensack Court House with a plan of battle before them. Roughly twelve thousand zombies had cut off the armory from the main American lines in Teaneck and Bergenfield. Several artillery regiments in Hackensack and Ridgefield Park were shelling zombie positions in Englewood and the Teaneck gold course, but the armory's fate was dismal.
* * *
The skies opened up and the cool September rain poured down in deluge upon the armory at Teaneck. Tobias Collins was standing on a bleak street corner of Ivy Lane, directing more companies of Tobians into the battle lines. He smiled in pride to see the long column of armored men, bearing swords, rifles and pikes, move down the street, led by Von Dorn, their commander.
"Set the 69th Street Brigade in echelon behind Thorpe's Wall Street Cohort," Tobias said. "And find me Kessel and Rodriguez."
"Aye, sir," said Von Dorn. The line of troops went onward, and more small units and platoons of swordsmen and spearmen moved in for the battle.
Tobias's superhuman senses alerted him to Father Robertson's specific scent. He turned around and saw the priest and advisor standing with a sheet of papers, with a rifle strapped across his back. Father Robertson moved toward Tobias, as the rest of the zombies moved toward the direction of the armory, falling into the siege lines.
"What kind of numbers are we looking at, Robertson?" asked Tobias.
"We have seven thousand of our own men, and about three thousand Kesselites are moving in as well," Robertson said. "Rodriguez is not coming to join our siege; he is pillaging Bergenfield and New Milford with his five thousand zombies."
"We can do without him," said Tobias. "We're looking at six or seven battalions of National Guard holed up in that armory, maybe around two or three thousand infantrymen and maybe four tanks."
"We have confirmed three Bradley fighting vehicles within the armory compound," Robertson said. "May I request a small detachment to destroy a battery of the 112th US Artillery Regiment that has been firing on our position from Queen Anne Road in Bogota?"
"Negative," Tobias replied. "We can't spare any units."
"Tobias!" called a low, threatening voice. Walking across the street was a tall black man, bearded and minus a patch of skin on his bare shoulder. His eyes were piercing and infected with Variant C, and as he strode toward Tobias, there was a small band of bodyguards surrounding him.
"Kessel," Tobias said warily, giving a false smile.
"I was told by a runner that you needed help on the siege of the armory," Kessel stated simply. He seemed to be unarmed, but Tobias knew better.
"We need no help...but it would be nice if you could support our forces," Tobias replied.
"You're joking, are you?" Kessel laughed. "You're going to take on a brigade of guardsmen with just the Tobians? I have three thousand men I can help you with, but I must remain in their control, and have our fill of the capture."
Tobias breathed deeply, incensed at Kessel's request. "You may have some humans. We were planning to entirely consume some, but merely several hundred others, so they could join the Tobians."
"Fine. Your zombies add to their ranks, my zombies add to my ranks. We both need the fresh blood inside that armory."
"Fine, it's agreed," Tobias hissed. Father Robertson moved a hand guardedly down toward the bolt on his rifle. "Set your units up by Hamilton road."
"I'll set my units where I please," spat Kessel. "Contact me whenever you desire to attack; we need to close the siege lines first. I'll throw up some earthworks."
Kessel departed with his guard, and the troops and companies of the Kesselites made their way down the long Ivy Lane from Englewood. The siege lines were arrayed all around the triangular-shaped compound of the armory. The base of the isosceles triangle faced west, which was the main entrance. The sides tapered out to a point facing east, filled with parking lots, storage houses, and trench fortifications.
"I hate him," Tobias said breathily to Robertson. Robertson adjusted his glasses, and turned his M1 Garand back toward the ground.
"Calm down, Tobe. Don't do anything stupid. We need Kessel's men to hold the full siege, and he's too strong to take on."
"I don't care...as long as he's around, there's a problem." Tobias replied. "It's going to rain tonight...As soon as night falls, send forward the Von Dorn's 69th Street Brigade, with all Variants, against the northern flank of the compound."
"Yes, sir, I'll alert Von Dorn," Robertson replied.
"Just don't tell Kessel. I want the survivors to join us."
"Yes, sir."
* * *
Jennifer walked into the bathroom, nervously fingering a combat knife that Michael had given to her. He had taken an interest in her safety since they had met, and she had felt flattered by the attention. Now, alone in the restroom, she was fearing for her own safety.
Back in the armory's main auditorium, Michael shivered in ghastly pain. His brain was filled with white lights, and his stomach felt shriveled and congealed. He had eaten regularly, but there was something else that he craved. He knew how Brandon had felt...he was jealous that Brandon had been able to sate his desires.
Jennifer pushed open a stall, but turned back in disgust at the human waste piled up inside. She prayed that there were no problems in the septic system; if they were really under siege, that would be a major problem. A strange sound emanated from another stall, and Jennifer turned toward the offending cubicle, knife in her hand.
"Is anybody there?" she asked.
On his cot in the auditorium, Michael looked up and searched the area for Brandon...where was he? His heart froze.
Jennifer pushed open the stall and gasped.
Brandon was standing on the toilet, holding a woman in his arms, his teeth sunk into her arm, tearing off pieces of flesh. Her neck had been cut to the spine, and her eyes were blank and fluttering. Brandon looked up from his feast like a deer in the headlights, caught in flagrante delicto.
"Jennifer..." Brandon began, blood dribbling from his mouth.
Jennifer stared for a moment at the horrific scene. It was easily the worst thing that her eyes had ever touched upon, and she nearly vomited at the bloody sight. Brandon dropped the woman, covering her massive wounds. Jennifer realized in grim knowledge that he had been standing on the toilet to drain her blood into it; there was a gory ring about the rim.
"Please, Jennifer..." Brandon pleaded, his guilty face smeared with blood.
Jennifer turned and walked out as calmly as she could. She wanted to run, but she made her way out slowly, leaving Brandon to his meal.
"Jennifer!" Michael called, seeing her come back toward their spot in the crowd. Jennifer looked shaken and dazed. "Jennifer! Is Brandon..."
"He killed her, Michael," Jennifer said quietly, moving back toward their place in the armory by the walls of the building. "He was in the bathroom..."
"Shit...I should have known...no...not another..." Michael sighed. His face was ashen, and eyes were bloodshot. His fingers twitched nervously, and his lips appeared to be turning blue. "Jenn...I have to tell you something..."
Jennifer braced in apprehension, but then looked at Michael's face, gaunt and deathly, and knew...
"Not you too?"
"I'm dying, Jennifer, I have never drank blood or killed anyone," Michael wheezed. "I can't...I'm not going to live much longer."
"But how? Why?"
"I need blood to live...and so does Brandon. He's done it, though. He's killed before, and he'll do it again."
Jennifer impulsively pulled up the sleeve on her left arm and presented it to Michael. "Here...take my arm. You can't die, I won't let you."
"Jennifer, I..." Michael said, trying to resist, but she could see the desire for her flesh in his eyes. "Let's sit down so no one can see us."
They placed themselves down on the cot, shielded by their bodies, and Michael descended to Jennifer's arm voraciously. In some trepidation, Jennifer held her breath as Michael penetrated her skin, sucking the sweet liqueur of her blood from out of her veins.
"Don't go too far, Michael," she said.
It was strangely erotic to Jennifer how Michael slowly let her blood slide down his throat. She pondered that she had never lost that much blood before, and began to get dizzy.
"Michael..."
He stopped, and drew himself up. Jennifer was bleeding freely; she wished she had thought a little more beforehand. Michael drew out a first-aid kit, and bandaged Jennifer's cut.
"Thank you, Jennifer," Michael said. "I think we need to leave."
"Where?"
"Anywhere. Before the siege lines close tonight...escape the armory with me."
A scream echoed from the direction of the bathrooms. "They've found Brandon!" Michael groaned.
"Or he wanted to be found."
"If we stay here, Jenn, we're both going to die," Michael said pleadingly. "I might be a zombie...but come with me! I can survive off your blood, and we can both live! Before we're surrounded, we need to leave the armory,"
"I will," Jennifer said firmly. "I'll come with you."
* * *
The rain poured down in terrible torrents, turning the trenches on the American Army side into so much mud. Gordon and Preston crouched in their bitter holes in the ground, flooded with rainwater, no noise in the air except the clink of drops on their helmets. Outside to the north, past the fog, was a flat ground, and then the unknown of the zombie lines.
"This is insane!" Preston said. "We can't fight in this!"
"They fought in this at Passchendaele and Hurtgrenwald, we can fight in it here," Gordon responded, clutching his rifle.
"Men, we're being charged to scout the upper streets," said Luke Hammond's voice. "Paterson, Delaney, Ignacio, let's prepare to get up and over."
"No...we can't go out..." Preston said, his face turning pale. Ten men had rallied for the scouting: Hammond, Preston, Gordon, Paterson, Delaney, Ignacio, and four other troopers. Out beyond the trenches, who knew what could be out there?
"Lets go, up and over, no drama," Hammond whispered. Gordon shot a look at Hammond's face; he looked as scared as the rest of them.
With the rest of the battalion covering them with machine guns, the ten chosen soldiers pulled themselves up and over the brink of the squishy, saturated ground, and made their way slowly into the no-man's land. Crouching, they entered the fog of war.
"Can you see anything?" asked Preston. The rain and mist made an impenetrable barrier to sight.
"Just be careful, and keep your head down," Hammond said. One of the troopers walked a little ahead, and turned around to face them.
"There's something up ahead," he said.
"What is it, Jackson?" Hammond asked.
Jackson opened his mouth, but before he could reply, a bullet whizzed through one shoulder, shattered his heart inside his chest, and burst out his other arm. He fell bodily to the ground, and Hammond cried, "Get back! Retreat!"
Evil voices cried out in bloodlust as automatic fire crackled around the Guardsmen's feet. Ignacio was hit in the neck, and two troopers shook as they were riddled with arrows and bullets. "Get out! Get back!" Hammond cried.
"Preston! Get back!" Gordon yelled furiously, ducking down as he strode as quickly as possible back toward the lines. Preston, impetuous and bold, plucked a grenade from his belt and hurled it at the enemy muzzle flashes.
The bomb rent the air, and the gunfire momentarily stopped. Hammond and Gordon looked in incredulity and pride at Preston, who then started to run like the rest of them back toward the rain-soaked trenches.
Gordon would have congratulated him if they hadn't been running for their lives. Preston was faster and younger, and he overtook Gordon and Hammond on the retreat. The automatic fire started up again, and a bullet whizzed past Gordon's ear and struck Preston in the back.
"Preston!" Gordon shouted as his comrade in arms fell, blood streaking against the asphalt. He leaned down and put an arm around Preston's skinny body, and bore him up, holding him around the chest and stumbling back toward his lines.
"Gordon! Leave him! Get back!" Hammond yelled.
"Wait a second!" Gordon cried. The photographer, Milton Paterson, was lying on the ground, an arrow sticking from his throat. He was still alive, but his convulsions and heavy bleeding indicated that his remaining life span would be short.
Gordon hurtled into the trenches, falling into a soft impact on the mud. Preston's intestines were hanging lopsidedly out of his stomach, where a massive exit wound had torn his skin. Hammond, still intact, leaned in to see him.
"You've done well, soldier, you've done well."
"John," Preston whispered. "Don't let me die here, I don't want to be dead,"
"It's all right, Danny, just stay here with me," Gordon said, his voice choking up. Two medics were inspecting the wound, piling his entrails back into his abdomen. His spine was cut, legs were immobile.
"I don't...I want to see my family again, I want to see my girlfriend..."
"Danny...stay here, don't close your eyes,"
Eyes wide open, Daniel Preston looked out into the cloudy night sky as the medics did all that they could. John Gordon held Preston's hand as they worked, easing his pain.
"John...I'll see you one day again," Preston muttered.
"Dan, I'll see you, I'll see you soon," Gordon said, biting his lips to keep them from trembling. His eyes burned with tears, and he squeezed Preston's hand tightly.
"Thanks for everything," Preston said, winking at Gordon with a soft grin. With that, Daniel Preston, at the age of twenty-one, made his peace with God, and passed on at the muddy bottom of a trench, in a pool of his own blood.
* * *
Michael and Jennifer left the armory in the early hours of September 25, just before the zombies cut off all escape routes of the armory. To the southeast, past some suburban roads, were train tracks cutting through a thick forest, and beyond that was the Hackensack River, their safety.
They had left the armory without much fuss; in the beginning, the army had wanted everyone to stay when they had first arrived at the armory. Now, a week later, they wanted all unnecessary baggage and people off the property. The zombies were closing in, and already making preliminary attacks on the few remaining scout parties.
"Nervous?" Michael asked, quietly passing through the suburban streets, now deserted. All he had with him was his handgun, knife, and provisions for several days.
"Yeah," Jennifer replied.
"We can probably get food from these abandoned houses," Michael noted.
It was so quiet in this place, Jennifer thought. Once, people lived here, loved here. It was a quiet suburban section of a rich country in America, where people walked their dogs, sent their kids to school, and made out under the stars.
Now, it was abandoned, and all was lost. The windows of the houses were blank and desolate. Not even looters or wild dogs would walk on these streets. Katrina was nothing compared to this disaster.
"It's sad," Jennifer said plainly. She stopped for a moment on the sidewalk of what was once a habitable place. Darkness had fallen. All was Night.
"Let's go, Jenn," Michael goaded. They walked on hand in hand, two souls facing a world against them.
User Reviews
Submitted by awesome_face (user info) at 2006-03-31 11:58:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
If this boner lets loose it will flood New Orleans again!
Submitted by nightshade (user info) at 2006-02-20 22:42:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Awesome story lines, but is there a 9th one? I've read 1-8 and number 10 but I cant find 9
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2006-02-19 07:02:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-02-17 12:48:44 (#)
Ranking: 0
I wasn't really feeling into this one...just a bit of lack of creativity on my part, I more or less just wanted to get it done. I could have taken longer, my apologies to the readers.
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I know how you feel. After my Pandemic series got to a certain point, I got less concerned with quality and more concerned with finishing the damn thing.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-02-18 21:37:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2006-02-18 17:40:23 (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-02-17 12:48:44 (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm just waiting for Caes to come around.
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Heh heh, here I am.
So! Not bad. I find sometimes I like your ideas more than I like the execution of them. Example: I like the idea of Jennifer and Michael running off together because of his infection, but I don't like how she's just like, "Sure, lets run off into the murderous zombie horde, stranger who needs to drink my blood to survive. My parents are sure to love you." I like that they've fallen in love (or whatever) but you never SHOWED that they fell in love. So it makes the whole situation look more plausible.
Also, I think you could have gotten a good sub-plot out of Michael killing his buddy Brandon because he can't stop killing people. There would be some good conflict there.
And the whole army-letting-people-leave-as-they-please doesn't seem right. What army would let innocent civilians leave a protected area and go into enemy territory with full knowledge of their tactical position, numbers, etc etc...not to mention that these civilians could get turned into zombies and end up fighting the army later on. I think you should have thought of a clever way for them to escape. That could be a post in itself.
And as for Preston and company getting killed -- that didn't grab me at all, but I don't know if it's a function of too many characters to keep track of, or too long between installments (which makes me forget who i'm reading about).
I also like the Jennifer and Michael out-in-the-world idea.
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I wasn't really feeling into this one...just a bit of lack of creativity on my part, I more or less just wanted to get it done. I could have taken longer, my apologies to the readers.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2006-02-18 17:40:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-02-17 12:48:44 (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm just waiting for Caes to come around.
*******************************
Heh heh, here I am.
So! Not bad. I find sometimes I like your ideas more than I like the execution of them. Example: I like the idea of Jennifer and Michael running off together because of his infection, but I don't like how she's just like, "Sure, lets run off into the murderous zombie horde, stranger who needs to drink my blood to survive. My parents are sure to love you." I like that they've fallen in love (or whatever) but you never SHOWED that they fell in love. So it makes the whole situation look more plausible.
Also, I think you could have gotten a good sub-plot out of Michael killing his buddy Brandon because he can't stop killing people. There would be some good conflict there.
And the whole army-letting-people-leave-as-they-please doesn't seem right. What army would let innocent civilians leave a protected area and go into enemy territory with full knowledge of their tactical position, numbers, etc etc...not to mention that these civilians could get turned into zombies and end up fighting the army later on. I think you should have thought of a clever way for them to escape. That could be a post in itself.
And as for Preston and company getting killed -- that didn't grab me at all, but I don't know if it's a function of too many characters to keep track of, or too long between installments (which makes me forget who i'm reading about).
I also like the Jennifer and Michael out-in-the-world idea.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-02-17 16:33:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I see Orgasmatron's house in that picture
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2006-02-17 16:22:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Shamrock Open, come play with us: http://www.ubersite.com/m/84210
Submitted by mbstateside (user info) at 2006-02-17 14:27:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Not quite a 2 for me this time. I think the fact that Jennifer and Micheal have gone of together will make for more intrest in future chapters but how likely is that? Some guy she met a few days ago has now got this bug that turns you into a blood craving Zombie and she runs of with him.
Also if Micheal and Brendan can hold of the blood lust for so long why can no one else?
I like the story but it doesn't feal very real.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-02-17 12:48:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm just waiting for Caes to come around.
Submitted by Amorphous (user info) at 2006-02-17 10:58:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
http://www.ubersite.com/m/84183
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GO BEARS WOO
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-02-17 10:57:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by OneCheapGeek (user info) at 2006-02-17 10:40:40 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2006-02-17 10:10:42 (#)
Ranking: 2
"There is an epidemic of mass murder being committed by a virtual army of unidentified assassins."
Night of the Living Dead.
Or White Zombie.
"Who will survive and what will be left of them?"
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Ah, I see.
Submitted by HighVoltage900 (user info) at 2006-02-17 10:53:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-02-17 10:36:56 (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by HighVoltage900 (user info) at 2006-02-17 10:30:23 (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 because the pic has inspired my next post.
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Really? Is it going to be something of a military nature, or what?
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Oh...you might say that...
Muhhahaha.....MUhahahaha....MUAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!!
Submitted by OneCheapGeek (user info) at 2006-02-17 10:40:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2006-02-17 10:10:42 (#)
Ranking: 2
"There is an epidemic of mass murder being committed by a virtual army of unidentified assassins."
Night of the Living Dead.
Or White Zombie.
"Who will survive and what will be left of them?"
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-02-17 10:36:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by HighVoltage900 (user info) at 2006-02-17 10:30:23 (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 because the pic has inspired my next post.
--
Really? Is it going to be something of a military nature, or what?
Submitted by HighVoltage900 (user info) at 2006-02-17 10:30:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 because the pic has inspired my next post.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-02-17 10:15:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2006-02-17 10:10:42 (#)
Ranking: 2
"There is an epidemic of mass murder being committed by a virtual army of unidentified assassins."
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??? Did I write that, wha'ts that from?
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2006-02-17 10:10:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"There is an epidemic of mass murder being committed by a virtual army of unidentified assassins."