Further up the River

[fluxchild]

This is a story that I'm writing as a freestyle blog on myspace....It's about zombies done in a new way. You'll see, anyway I like your honest opinion, I don't bruise easily. It's not complete yet, and as I write it, I'll post it on here as well.

In one night several nondescript antique cars rode through major cities of the United States spewing a lethal gas into the atmosphere. A war that no one knew of had begun and ended before anyone knew what was happening. With one fatal swoop three quarters of the population had died.

A ray of light shone through Antowan's window, pestering him to wake up. At the request of the sun Antowan dragged himself out of his bed. He was not a morning person, or an afternoon person. As a matter of fact, he wasn't any kind of person, except maybe a loner. He had no friends, and his girlfriend just left him to move to the city. This was why he was living with his grandparents.
Antowan groggily walked out of his bedroom and into the kitchen. He expected to see his grand ma-ma sitting at the table doing her crosswords as she did every morning, but today was different. Something else was different; the kitchen was in shambles. The cabinets were flung open, and most of the contents were on the floor, and counter-top. All the burners on the stove were lit, and a frying pan lay smoldering on the stovetop. Antowan backed away from the stove beginning to get nervous. Where was his grand mother?
From behind him, he heard the shuffling of feet. Antowan spun around but no one was there. He walked out of the kitchen hesitantly, hoping that he found his grandma well.
"Grandma?" he said softly.
There was no answer. Antowan was beginning to get nervous. Suddenly something moved in the corner of his eye. Antowan quickly backed up, and knocked his grandmother's vase off a table.
Time to get out of the house, he thought.
He turned towards the door, and saw her. His grandma-ma was standing, blocking the door. At first everything seemed fine. That is, until she slunk from out of the shadow. Her bloodshot eyes were gray, like a cadaver, and it seemed she was suffering from a broken neck. Her head rested on her shoulder, and flopped around limp. Antowan noticed vomit stains on her dress.
"Vaaaaaaasssseeeee," she said in a gurgled voice.
Antowan stepped away from her slowly. For every step backwards he took, she took a step towards him. A tear ran down his cheek as he realized her intention to harm him. Suddenly with a burst of unnatural speed she was on him her teeth snapping. Antowan fell to the floor hard with grandma on top of him. The years of nurture that she provided for him flashed before his eyes.
What the hell was going on? Why was this happening? How could he get away without hurting her?
Antowan grabbed his granny by her broken neck, and snapped, completely severing her spinal chord. Grand ma-ma went limp, and Antowan pushed her off him. With tears freely flowing from his eyes he picked up the phone. With three button pushes, he put the receiver to his ear, but heard nothing. Now he knew something was wrong.

Antowan hung the phone up on the receiver. He was unsure of anything at the present moment. He had no clue what was wrong with his grand ma-ma. How had she walked towards him with a broken neck? The sweet old lady he knew had a hard time walking in perfect health. She had arthritis, and usually got around in a walker. How could she move so fast?
"What the **** is going on?" he asked out loud.
Antowan began to search the house for any clues as to what was happening. Where was his grandfather? Usually he went to work early in the morning, but today could have been different. When did all this mayhem start? Everything was normal when he went to sleep.
Suddenly he had an epiphany. With his attention on his television, he didn't notice a shadow dart behind him.
In his room, he turned on the giant TV his ex gave him for his birthday. Without cable he couldn't turn on national news, but the local channels should be working fine. That is if all hell hasn't broken loose in the outside world.
To Antowan's dismay no channel worked. On every channel there was nothing but test patterns. He now felt more alone than he ever felt in his life. Up until now he liked being alone, but in a world where he had to break his grand mother's neck, he felt weak and powerless.
Antowan looked out his window for the first time since waking, and vomited. He saw his neighbor beating his wife's head into the sidewalk. The woman's face oozed blood onto the sidewalk, as she sobbed for her husband to stop. Antowan banged on his window to get the man's attention, but to no avail. He didn't stop until the woman stopped moving. The man stood up looking confused. He sniffed in the air searching for something and then turned towards Antowan's window. With a snarl the man turned to his door. Was the door locked? He quickly spun around to short cut the maniac looking to do to him what he did to his wife, but realized that he was in more trouble than he thought.
His grandfather was standing at his door with an outstretched arm towards him. Antowan noticed his fingers had been gnawed on, and some were actually bit off. He was moaning as if he was in pain, and moving towards him.
Antowan couldn't stomach killing another of his family members. He backed away, allowing his grandfather to back him into a corner. Tears streamed down his face as his father figure limped towards him. Antowan closed his eyes as he waited for his grandfather to kill him.
He felt the rubbery touch of his paw paw's deformed hand, and knew it was almost over for him. But what was going on? Was his family zombies, and did that mean he would become one too?
Suddenly there was another sound filling the house of death. His neighbor was now at the door, and looking at him like he was a giant steak. His grandfather growled, and turned to face the second monster. It seemed that they were communicating, but it didn't look like a civil one. Suddenly the neighbor ran at Antowan's grandfather with the same blinding speed that his grandmother attacked him with. Before his grandfather could react, he was thrown out the window, closely followed by the neighbor.
Antowan lay on his floor for what seemed like ages. The fact that his grandparents tried to kill him today, weighed heavily on his heart, and he felt that he might snap. His grandmother was a pacifist, and would never harm anyone. What the hell was going on? He pulled himself from the ground, and began stuffing some of his belongings in his backpack.
Someone had to know what was going on, and he would find him, even if he had to walk a thousand miles.
After he finished packing, he walked downstairs, and out of the house. He wondered how many people had turned rabid. Antowan realized that he might have to fight a lot of zombie people. Then he remembered. His grandfather kept a huge desert eagle .50 caliber handgun in the tool shed. Antowan remembered the argument that ignited when his grandfather brought the gun home. His grandmother didn’t want anything to do with what she called a, “death bringer.” The argument lasted three days and eventually his grandmother got her way. The handgun was banished to the tool shed in the back yard. The gigantic back yard with plenty of space for crazed people to jump out from.
Antowan looked out over the back yard to the tool shed. Fifty yards to the tool shed, and the most powerful handgun in the world, he thought.
He sat the backpack on the ground, and gathered his strength. With a loud grunt his right foot quickly dug into the grass propelling him towards the tool shed. Antowan surprised himself with how fast he moved across the back yard. He had never liked any sport in which he had to run, and that was most sports, so he never participated in gym class. Now he sort of wished he did.
Antowan stopped at the doorway of the tool shed. Breathing heavily, he opened the door, and stepped inside. He didn’t know exactly where his grandfather kept the gun, but he was sure he could find it. First things first, he thought, he had to find the light switch. He fumbled blindly in the dark. He knew it was on the wall, he just didn’t know if it was high on the wall, or low. He finally found the switch, but nothing happened. Then he remembered the light bulb was turned on using a dangling chain. Antowan knew that finding the chain would prove to be harder than finding the wall switch. He had no idea where the chain could possibly be. Waving his hands in a wide arc he fumbled for the chain. He heard the shuffling of feet suddenly. Was someone in there with him? He shrugged it off as his imagination. After a few minutes of searching he finally found the dangling chain. After pulling the chain the tool shed was flooded with light, exposing potential weapons, and a snarling zombie standing in front of him!
Antowan fell backwards with the zombie on top of him. The zombie bit at him drooling long gobs of spit. Antowan looked around finding a hammer lying in the corner.
Antowan reached for the hammer with his right hand, and held the zombie back with his left. He knew the hammer to be out of reach, but he tried anyway. Maybe the hammer would magically slide to his hands like in the movies. This was no movie however, and he was no magician. The zombie bit at him more forceful now. Antowan slammed his fist against the left side of the zombies face. It rolled his eyes into the back of his head, stunned momentarily. Antowan pushed the zombie off him, and crawled quickly to the hammer. As he turned around the zombie was at his throat again.
“You ****ers are fast,” he snarled breathlessly. “I am too, bitch!”
Antowan’s eyes widened maniacally as he slammed into the zombie’s skull with the claw end of the hammer. His grandfather called it the business end of the hammer. Now he knew why. The zombie’s head fractured and leaked out all over the tool shed, and he kept swinging. He kept swinging until he saw in red, touched the concrete of the tool-shed floor. For an eternity he sat there staring at what was left of the zombie’s head, but not seeing his handiwork. His chest quickly expanded and contracted. He was lost in the mindless violence that up until now had only seen in the movies. He was covered in the blood of someone’s father. He stood up. With a sickening slopping sound, Antowan wiped the blood from his eyes. It was time to find the gun, and a safe place away from the zombies.
Antowan didn’t really think they were zombies. That meant that almost everyone in the world was now dead. Just like in the movies. He began to wonder if he was in a movie or not. After twenty minutes of searching he found the gun. He smiled at the fact that it was underneath a pile of his grandfather’s dirty magazines. He had always searched for them when he was younger. He laughed maniacally at fact that he didn’t have to fight as hard now. He was armed, and dangerous.
Antowan stepped out of the tool shed and thunder cracked ominously. In addition to his grandfather’s gun he also found a couple boxes of ammo, and a holster. He looked, and felt like an action hero.
Suddenly an explosion boomed from the streets in front of his house! He made sure that the gun was concealed, and he ran to investigate. As he approached the front side of the house he slowed to a snail’s pace, inching slowly forward. His hand slowly moved to the gun on his right hip. As he unsnapped the buckle to the holster he felt cold steel against the back of his neck. Antowan dropped his hand hoping like hell the snap wasn’t heard.
“I’m gonna need you to walk to the street,” a gruff voice said calmly. “Let’s do this real slow like.”
Antowan began walking with his hands raised. He hoped the mystery man assumed that an ordinary person wouldn’t have access to a weapon. He realized that his backpack was still in the back yard. He didn’t dare forget that if he wanted to survive. He couldn’t rely on the gun. It could run out of shells, and if that was all he had, he was ****ed! Antowan began working out a plan. As he reached the driveway he saw a van crashed into a telephone pole, with his zombie neighbor in between the van and the pole. He wondered where his grandfather was. He also saw three men in white lab coats poking around in the front yards of his neighbors.
“Looks like you got the drop on me,” Antowan said trying to sound embarrassed, and friendly.
“Wasn’t hard,” the man responded dryly. “You make a lot of noise. For someone not affected by the gas.”
“Gas?” Antowan said turning around. “A gas started all of this?”
The man lowered his weapon. Antowan had never seen anything like it before. It was black with red glowing buttons across the side. The closest thing to it was an old laser tag gun. Or something Batman would carry to swing across rooftops.
“As far as we know, it has affected about eighty percent of the populace.” The man said softly.
Antowan saw a great sadness in the man. He had a scar across his left cheek, and wore wire-rimmed glasses. He didn’t wear a lab coat, but a blue skintight outfit that looked like some kind of body armor of sorts. Maybe he was the scientist’s bodyguard. Maybe they all just fell in together because of the situation. Any story the mysterious man gave would be plausible. Who would believe that someone without training took on four zombies, and lived to tell the tale?
“So,” Antowan said. “Who are you guys, and what are you doing here?”
The man in blue holstered his gun as he walked to the van. With a slight grunt he slid open the lightly damaged van door. Inside the van, a woman sat at a high tech computer station. Antowan immediately fell for the nerdy but attractive lady scientist. He sensed that she was powerful, and very good at what she did. Whatever “it”, was.
“I can probably answer that question far better than the hired help.” She said snidely. “We are a team of brains from a government think tank. We are on a mission to discover the cause of this catastrophe, and a cure.”
Antowan smiled. That meant that the so-called zombies weren’t dead at all! If there was a cure they could be brought back to their senses. He tried hard not to think of his grandmother laying in the hallway with a twisted neck. Or the man in the tool shed with his head split open.
“We don’t even know if there is a cure.” She continued. “We haven’t been able to capture one alive. We do know that they exhibit all the symptoms of your typical zombie. Bernard here pumped a full clip into one.”
“He didn’t go down until a headshot.” The man now known as Bernard said.
The woman flashed him a irritating scowl. “We can’t be sure of that. How do you know that you didn’t shoot him in the head with the first shot.”
“Because I was aiming at his ****ing knee-cap.” Bernard yelled. “I’m paid to be one great ****ing shot. And you know what? I am. I might not be as smart as you science ****s, but I know where my shots land!”
Bernard stormed away grumbling something to himself about putting the gun where the sun don’t shine.
While Antowan watched Bernard in blue walk angrily away, the woman took her chance to test on him. He felt a small prick in his arm, and by instinct he whipped around pulling out his gun. He quickly realized his mistake. A large shadow loomed over him. He turned around just in time to see Bernard in blue swinging the butt of his gun down on his head.
Antowan found himself swimming in a sea of blackness. What was he gonna do. How was he gonna escape his current situation?

[fluxchild]

come on guys tell me what you think!

[fluxchild]

Further up the River continued
Written by Rod Reed






As Antowan lay in the icy grasp of unconsciousness, he dreamed. He dreamed of a beat up Chevy Nova riding down a deserted street. He found himself on the street watching the car drive by. A bluish green gas followed the car. Antowan carefully trailed the slow moving car taking care not to be seen. He looked up to the street sign. The poorly lit street sign indicated his worse fears. He was close to his home. The car was on his street!
Antowan picked up a rock, and slung it towards the car. The mid sized rock traveled two feet and dropped. He picked up another rock. The rock also stopped two feet after thrown. Antowan snapped. Like a madman he ran towards the car. He grunted as he exerted every muscle in his body. To his horror he barely moved. He was running in slow motion. With every once of his being he screamed.
Antowan awoke abruptly still screaming. The woman, and Bernard both jumped as if shot suddenly. Antowan reached for his gun, but found nothing but air. Bernard smiled at him waving the desert eagle mockingly.
The young loner backed into a corner of the van. They were moving. He slumped onto his butt, and dropped his head into his hands.
“Everything alright back there?” cackled a voice over the intercom.
“It’s under control,” Another man that Antowan hadn’t seen replied. “Is everything under control?”
Antowan looked at the three faces staring back at him. He noticed Bernard tensing his right hand. They meant to kill him if he wasn’t going to go along with the program. Some deal, he thought.


An hour later, Antowan found himself listening to the man talk to the woman about the catastrophe. They were in a heated debate over how the gas was applied. The man thought canisters were dropped over the United States, and the wind did the rest.
“That is the most ridiculous thing I ever heard,” she retorted. “Then, where are the goddamn canisters?”
“Just because we haven’t found any canisters,” the man said dryly. “Doesn’t mean anything!”
“I’d rather believe they put it on money.” She said mockingly. “Everyone carries money of some sorts.”
Antowan laughed to himself. His girlfriend always said that very thing. She believed that if anyone attacked us through our money that we would lose. He used to think she was crazy. Now he wasn’t so sure. But he did know that money wasn’t the delivery vessel for the gas.
“What if they set up their cars to deliver the gas, and just drove around the United States?” Antowan said. “How long would it take?”
“To drive all of America?” the woman asked. “It’d be a long time.”
Antowan hung his head. He knew that scientist wouldn’t listen to someone they thought was inferior. He waited for the chuckles, and ridicule.
“Actually,” the man said. “If they had several drivers, they could have done it in a few nights. This is possible. It’s better than the ideas that we came up with.”
The woman looked at Antowan in a bizarre manner. She smiled, and turned to her computer. She typed faster than anyone he knew.
“Talk with me,” the man said. “I am Ted Gedman.”

Antowan found talking with Ted fascinating. Ted, and the woman seemed to enjoy talking with someone who had another point of view. They laughed uncontrollably as Antowan gave them idea after idea.
An hour later the conversation was over, and Antowan found himself dozing. Bernard eased towards him giving him a light nudge. Antowan opened his eyes to see Bernard standing over him with his gun extended towards him.
“Time to earn your keep, smart guy.”
Antowan stood up taking the gun from Bernard. He smiled as he slammed a clip inside the weapon. The gun clicked as he chambered his first shell. He felt the van slowing down as he shoved the gun into his holster.
“So what are we doing?” Antowan asked.
“Just a simple clear and enter,” Bernard said smirking. “No problem.”
The van came to a complete stop, and Bernard stood poised to open the door. He looked at Antowan worriedly. “Are you sure you’re up for this? This could be dangerous.”
“Come on, “ he said irritated. ”Let me earn my keep.”
“Don’t shoot anyone that talks,” Bernard said, as he opened the door. Antowan exploded out of the van, gun raised. He saw two that were obviously viral. He squeezed the trigger to the Desert Eagle twice. The Virals kept coming towards him. He squeezed off five rounds hitting both Virals in the chest and abdomen.
A loud crack of lightning cracked behind him twice. Antowan fell to the ground with his hands over his head.

[ccorniuk]

Maybe I have read too many zombie fics, or maybe not enough. I'm not quite sure how to see this as being something "different" yet. It has the makings of a good story, though, so don't take that as an insult. Of course, basic grammatical errors and the like, but I assume since you said it was a free writing you're putting up on myspace, it hasn't even begun to go through the editing process yet. You have what you need, but I'm not seeing enough charecterization yet. The descriptions of the characters, their voices and mannerisms are lacking--so, in all honesty, what I see here is just another zombie fic. With some spit and polish, though, I'm sure you'll get where you're heading.

[KH]

I'm with ccorniuk --- it's going to be hard as hell to differentiate from the other gabillion other zombie stories out there.

and honestly i would ensure the reader knows from basically word number 1 that this is going to be different somehow --- know what i mean?

i'm not a huge zombie fan so I'm actually OK reading it. In fact, I really enjoyed it for some reason! The genre hasn't gotten stale on me. I would imagine folks that do read the zombie comix, see all the movies etc would wonder how this is going to be different.

A couple of weird things that are happening out of the blue that you might not even realize:

- You just introduce the zombies as "The Virals" in part II. There's gotta be some discussion I think to come to a conclusion as to why they're called this.

- It seems a little odd that of the millions of easier ways to infect the country with a zombifying virus, antowan comes to the correct conclusion. If he were to use Okham's Razor it would be in the food, water supply. They don't even mention that. He uses Okham's Curly Straw.

- These dude's in the van are extremely mistrustful of one of the only other uninfected guy out there. Same thing with Antowan. There's safety in numbers, given their predicament ...

---- On the same note: Unless this was NOT a coincidence, they really do run into Antowan rather quickly in the story and worse, conveniently. The only way I can rationalize this in my head is that there are actually a lot of people out there that weren't affected by the gas.

Anyway, that it. Great start. It's gotta be tough doing this freewriting thing. It's going to take some SERIOUS foresight to somehow manage all of the logistical stuff and ad hoc conveniences that every writer tends towards just to faciliate their story. The thing is, most writers plan and edit. there's no such thing as a story that doesn't go through some kind of revision process. But you ARE doing the HARDEST part right now --- you're writing it.

[fluxchild]

hey guys I really appreciate the time you have taken to comment on my lil writing project. You guys are gonna make the re-write process much easier.

[fluxchild]

i realize that I shouldn't have written the small prelude at the beginning. That way it's not so convient that Antowan saw it....I do want to perserve some mystery so that's probably the first to go...I'm also gonna fix the viral thing....make it something that is explained by the scientist chick.
It's funny that you mentioned the food supply because I was gonna use that but I actually forgot since I'm writing off the top of my head.

[fluxchild]

the story begins to change pace a little

Antowan cupped his ears and looked behind him. Bernard stood, the barrel of his strange gun smoking. Bernard grinned. “Wait until you get one of these.”
Antowan walked over to the two corpses closely followed by Bernard. The two bodies bore gaping holes in the forehead. He held back throwing up in front of Bernard. “Yeah,” Bernard said. “This is a gross job. Here, take this.”
Bernard handed Antowan a small earpiece. The little black piece fit over the top of his ear and a wire piece that fit in his actual ear. He felt uncomfortable at first, but the discomfort soon disappeared.
“You better learn to shoot real fast kid,” Bernard said handing him something else. “Take this knife too. You’re going to need it the way you shoot.”
Antowan took the knife that was placed in a sheath. The sheath had a intricate design etched into its leathery hide. He placed it around his ankle and buckled the strap. Now he felt ready for anything.
“We’re at a motel,” Bernard said. “You take section B, and I’ll take section A.”
The young man nodded and walked towards section B. The entire motel wasn’t big at all. It only had twenty rooms split by a foyer. He began to smell an odor that he only smelled one time before. Antowan followed the scent to a door with paint beginning to chip off. The pattern the chipped paint seemed to hypnotize him. He slowly opened the door leading to a dark musty smelling room. No sounds came from the room. His breathing quickened as he unsteadily walked inside.
The room smelled unlike anything he had ever smelt. Spoiled raw meat was the closet thing in his limited memory. Antowan raised his gun and fumbled for the light switch at the same time. He didn’t want a repeat of the tool shed. He didn’t think his heart could take another shock that intense.
Only a moment went by before the room was bathed in artificial light. He ventured further into the small room. Figuring the smell was coming from the bathroom. Turning on the light and walking inside he found that he was right. On the toilet lay the remains of an overweight female. From the wrinkles in her skin Antowan figured her to be in her late fifties, early sixties. Her gray eyes sat motionless in crusted eye sockets. Her skin had a green tint, and some sort of oily residue. He wondered if the residue was from the effects of the gas, or something entirely different.
“Antowan to Bernard,” he said touching the earpiece. “I found something strange. Something neither of the docs has mentioned.”
“You think it’s worth something?” Bernard’s voice hissed inside his ear.
“She’s a stinker,” he said laughing. “But at least she’s not moving. Tag apartment twelve for extraction.”
“You sure she’s dead?”
Antowan waved his hand in front of the specimen. “I’ve been in here for ten minutes. She’d have attacked by now.”
“Unless they’re learning,” Bernard said worried.
Antowan laughed walking out of the bathroom. “Come one Romero. We are not in a movie. These people are not dead. They can’t be zombies!”
Suddenly the wall on his left exploded and two virals poured from the other side. Antowan quickly turned, only to walk into the body of the “dead” female. The woman tried to grab Antowan with a bear hug but Antowan ducked. Dropping to one knee he pointed his gun and aimed with one eye closed. As he fired, he dropped his aim an inch, and squeezed the trigger. The woman’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as the bullet exploded inside her skull.
Antowan rolled out of the way as the gigantic woman fell to the ground with a crash. The two virals from the next room stood staring at him deciding who was going to attack. The virals growled, and both ran towards him. Then Antowan did something he never thought he’d ever do: He ran towards the two snarling zombies, and at the last moment tucked and rolled. This motion gave him the upper hand by leaving him behind the virals. Antowan repeated his aim technique, shooting the closet viral in the eye. It fell with a sick wet thud. He turned his attention to the second viral, but it was gone. He was fascinated by the speed they exhibited. If they were zombies, he thought. The moviemakers had it all wrong. They may not run with amazing speed at all times, but they had their moments.
The door to the motel room creaked open. The zombie must have gotten out of the room. Were they opening doors? Antowan exhaled walking towards the door. Something seemed wrong in his mind. He couldn’t let Bernard get taken by surprise. He surprised himself again. The day before he watched out for one person. Antowan. Now he felt like part of a team, and not just to save his own ass. He genuinely wanted to help these people he had just met. If only he had felt that way when Kathleen was around. He reached for the door thinking about how Kathleen was making it in this horror show. Suddenly the bed flew into the air snapping him back to reality. He had been tricked. Did the dead have the intellect to outsmart someone?
Antowan tried to swing his gun arm around but was too late. The zombie was already in his face. Antowan cursed the monster and took hold of its arms. With a low growl he whipped around; and slung the zombie across the room, losing his gun in the process. Something primal stirred inside Antowan. He ripped the knife from its sheath and calmly walked towards the fallen zombie. He twirled the knife in the palm of his hand so the blade pointed upward. The zombie tried to stand but Antowan easily forced him back down. He smiled as he lowered the knife towards the snarling maniac.


Antowan fell against the bed now lying upside down in the middle of the room. He looked around wiping the blade of the knife on the bed sheets. The room was trashed as if a rock star spent a freaky drugged filled night in the room. A voice buzzed in his ear suddenly.
“Bernard. Antowan.” said the woman.” It’s Anna. Let’s try and find a live specimen.”
Antowan stood up as he shoved the knife into the sheath. He scanned the room finding his gun underneath a small coffee table. As he knelt to retrieve the weapon he heard movement from the room next door. He quickly scooped the gun up, and walked to the hole made by the two zombies. The desert eagle peered out of the hole first, closely followed by Antowan. Dust not yet settled fell onto his face tickling his nose. He stifled back a sneeze.
The next room was just as dark as the first one had been. He supposed that the gas was released at night, and everyone was sleep. It seemed that everyone was stuck in an endless dream cycle.
As he fumbled around for a light switch, he scanned the room for anything. In the corner of his eyes he saw movement. He raised his gun and silently walked to where the movement was.
As he got closer he saw that a figure was huddled against the wall, shaking slightly. It was draped in a heavy pea green sea jacket, and covered in dust from the inside of the wall. Antowan extended his gun towards the shape, and began to pull the trigger. Suddenly the dust invaded his nasal passages again. He tried to stifle the sneeze but was unsuccessful. A loud and powerful sneeze escaped his body. The shape screamed scuffling inside the nearby bathroom. He quickly holstered his gun, and followed the shape into the bathroom. He was unprepared for what he saw. A young woman no older than eighteen sat petrified trying to shield a kid from his sight. The kid was partly submerged in water. He wondered if the kid was sick from the gas.
“Please,” the girl pleaded. “Don’t kill us. We aren’t zombies!”
Antowan was floored. He was starting to find more living people. He wondered how many people survived the gas.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly. “I’m here to help. What’s wrong with your brother?”
The girl looked up as the small room was filled with light. She moved a few strands of hair out of her eyes so she could see him better. She smiled once she was positive he wasn’t out to get them.
“He’s not my brother,” she said. “I found him here, and tried to help. He says he’s sick.”
That must be the reason he was in the bathtub, he thought. He wondered if they had room in the van for the two survivors. He wondered why the two zombies plowed through a wall to attack him with these two here.
“What happened to the two men in here?” The girl asked suddenly. “You didn’t kill them did you?”
Antowan didn’t like the sound of her question. Why wouldn’t she want him to kill two zombies?
“I definitely killed them,” he responded. “What’s the matter?”
The girl suddenly pulled the boy out of the tub, and started drying him off with a nearby towel. The panic on her face caused Antowan to get nervous. He pulled the desert eagle from its leathery home. She paused for a moment and picked the boy up.
“I hope you have room in your car,” she said. “We have to get out of here now!”
Antowan peeked out of the bathroom. No one was out there. It didn’t mean anything because of the zombie’s talent for hiding in shadows.
“We have to move, now!” The girl cried.
They walked carefully out of the bathroom making a move for the door. Antowan stumbled, tripping over debris from the wall. That’s when he saw it. A stream of blood moved across the floor as if it had a mind of its own. He quickly stood up following the blood trail to the adjacent wall. Antowan watched as it ran under the wall and disappeared. He looked up to the girl who looked more worried now. The look on her face said that it was time to go.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said finally. “I don’t like the look of this.”
He grabbed the girl’s wrist, and reached for the door. Suddenly the wall shattered into a thousand pieces sending sheet rock, and nails flying. When the dust settled a hulking figure stood in the gaping hole that used to be a wall. The figure shrouded in shadow pulled something from his neck and dropped it with a metallic thud. Antowan threw open the door and bolted out. He wasn’t up to fighting something that big. He’d leave it for Bernard in blue.
“We have a huge emergency,” he yelled tapping the ear comm. “Crank the van, now!”
“Who are you talking too?” the girl asked.
“I’m not entirely sure, I’ve only just met them.” He replied. “What is that thing?”
The girl turned her head looking towards the boy in her arms. Antowan realized he wasn’t going to get any answers right away, so he focused on getting to the van. A loud crash boomed behind him. He saw the hulking figure staring a hole into them. Blood spurted from its neck but paid no attention to it. Antowan wondered what had just happened. He had never heard of blood racing towards something to give it life, if that was what actually happened. He was confused, and the girl seemed to know more than any of the current people in their group.

[fluxchild]

Antowan and the two survivors arrived at the van. The door slid open and Antowan pushed the two inside. He turned to see Bernard running towards the van also. The man in blue stopped panting at Antowan’s feet. Antowan pulled him to his feet. The man looked older somehow.
“We have to go,” the man said out of breath. “Section A is over run with zombies. They are coming.”
“How many?” Antowan asked.
“I think all of them.”
Antowan pushed Bernard into the van. He heard a low rumble, and saw a cloud of dust forming in the courtyard of the motel. How many people could have been here last night, he wondered. The hotel began to rumble as a low growl became more audible. He quickly closed the sliding door, and yelled for the driver to go. Suddenly a face banged against the window. Blood splattered on the window causing the girl to scream.
Anna grabbed one of Bernard’s guns and stuck it into a hole in the van’s door. The sound of lightning filled the vehicle as she squeezed the trigger. Antowan saw the zombie fall but another quickly filled its place. He quickly ran next to Anna and found another hole. Mimicking Anna’s actions he fired his gun upward, shooting a zombie through the chin. The zombie tried to screech but only managed to cough a puff of smoke. Blood ran from its eyes and it collapsed.
The van’s engine turned over, and began rolling out of the parking lot. The passengers in the back each fell over each other as the van hit a zombie running over him as if he was a speed bump. Antowan stood up to peer out the window as they sped away. Some of the zombies were chasing them but the hulking figure just stood there watching them drive away.
Antowan turned towards the girl once they were out of sight of the motel and the bloodthirsty zombies. At the present moment she was tending to the boy who had not moved a muscle since he had seen him. It was time to address several issues.
“What the hell was that?” he screamed. “What the hell is going on here?”
The girl wiped the boy’s brow visibly upset. Antowan walked towards her his patience beginning to wear thin. Anna gave him a concerned look, but he ignored it. He was determined to get answers.
“Listen,” he yelled. “You’re going to talk. I almost got killed back there.”
“You almost got killed?” she stood shouting. “I was there hiding from that monster all day.”
“What is it?” Antowan asked a little less forceful. He was beginning to feel bad. No one had any idea what she had been through. He remembered his grand ma-ma and snapping her neck. He stifled back tears trying to fight through the pain. What had this girl endured to be here talking to them?
“I don’t know what that monster is,” she said. “I’ve never heard of anything doing what it can do. No book, no cartoon, or movie could have prepared me for that thing. It stole their blood!”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Anna and Ted quickly. They sat with burning intent, listening to what the girl had to say.
“Every time I killed one of the zombies the blood ran to it. That thing is like the alpha zombie. The others get smarter when it’s around.”
That made sense to Antowan. Once he killed two of the zombies, the third laid the trap. He wondered if the “alpha zombie” was a lightning rod of sorts. A lightning rod for brain activity was the likely answer.
“I think the “alpha zombie” is like the queen ant in a hive.” Ted said. “An ant hive is a collective consciousness and it is the brain that connects each zombie.”
Antowan’s likely answer was shot down as soon as he thought it. That was why he wasn’t in charge, he thought. These guys got paid the big bucks to theorize, and hypothesize.
Anna also thought the theory was sound. She quickly turned to her computer, and began typing wildly. Antowan walked to her and tried reading over her shoulder. He soon stopped after realizing that she typed way too fast.
“I don’t know,” the girl continued. “But the thing is psychotic, and capable of speech.”
“It can talk?” Anna asked incredulously. “That is fascinating. Was it the first zombie you saw?”
The girl pondered a second and shook her head negatively. She then looked down to the boy who had now started moving. The boy groaned miserably then stopped as quickly as he started moving.
“So what’s the deal with the kid?” Antowan asked rubbing the boys forehead. “Is he sick from the gas?”
“I think so,” she replied hesitantly.
Ted walked over to the boy and looked intently at the sick youth. He rubbed his chin perplexed. Without saying a word he walked to Anna and began speaking in a low voice. Antowan and the girl strained to hear, but to no avail.
Antowan took the rag out of the girl’s hand and began wiping the boy’s brow. The girl looked at him sweetly. It had been a long time since anyone looked at him lovingly. He shot the girl a slight smile and continued looking after the boy.
“My name is Caitlin,” she said. “And his name is Scotty.”
Antowan introduced himself and looked to Bernard who was sleeping. He wondered if they would find more living people. It seemed possible. And if they did, they had to find a bigger vehicle for transport.
Anna stood up suddenly and walked over to inspect the boy. She produced a small pen light, and shined it in the boys eyes. Antowan saw that his eyes were turning gray. Scotty was close to death.
“He’s going to die,” Anna said. “It’s only a matter of time.”
Suddenly the boy hissed and grabbed Anna by the neck. Antowan reached for his gun as the boy dug his teeth deep into the woman’s neck and ripped out a chunk of flesh. The woman emitted a horrible scream waking Bernard. Bernard reached for his gun but Anna had placed it on her computer desk.
Antowan and Caitlin pulled at the boy but he was locked in a vice grip on the scientist’s neck. Ted picked up Bernard’s lightning pistol and squeezed the trigger just as Anna was shoved into him. Ted’s arm swung in an arc as the gun went off shooting towards the cabin of the van. Antowan suddenly found himself slamming against the side of the van. They were in the midst of a bad wreck. The windows of the van shattered sending glass everywhere. He closed his eyes as he hit the ceiling and the floor of the van. The van stopped moving with a grinding metallic screech. Antowan looked at the boy who was still biting Anna’s neck. He tried to move but his body wouldn’t respond. The last thing he saw was the boy walking towards him with blood running down his chin.

[fluxchild]

Antowan woke up startled. Bernard placed a comforting hand on his shoulder looking down at his feet. In the little time that he knew the man in blue he had never seen uncertainty in his eyes. At this moment Bernard was virtually on the verge of tears. Antowan wondered how long he was out. He looked around noticing that he was in the van, except it was hollowed out, and in two pieces. Glass, and metal was strewn across the worn and cracked black top. Now he remembered the wreck. He remembered the shrill high-pitched screech.
“What happened to Scotty?” He asked, rubbing a newly found bump on his head.
Bernard knelt down beside him. The look on his face spoke volumes. Antowan stood transfixed at the blood splattered on his blue armor. How many different bodies contributed to the gore collecting on his jacket? Was that carnage the last proof that a boy named Scotty existed?
“He was going to kill you too,” Bernard mumbled. “And I found my gun once the van flipped.”
“What happened after that?”
“I told you,” Bernard said rising. “I found my gun.”
Bernard walked from under the protection of the wrecked van. Antowan followed trying to shake the unsteadiness out of his legs. How many times had he lost consciousness since he woke that morning? He hoped that he wasn’t doing permanent damage to his brain. Yet in still, he’d much rather live life retarded then to die, and become a zombie. He planned to catch up with Bernard, and firmly demand that he tell him everything. As he started to quicken his pace, two tiny hands grabbed him by his elbow tenderly. He slowly turned to see Caitlin looking at him with fiery intent.
“Just leave him alone, “Caitlin begged. “He just buried the woman he loved.”
Antowan was taken aback. Sure, they fought all the time over the dumbest things, but he thought it was a dominance issue. The more he thought about it, he knew that he was only mad because of Scotty’s death. Was he mad that Scotty was dead, and he was still alive? Was he mad that he didn’t see the attack on Anna coming?
“Listen Antowan,” Caitlin said as if reading his mind. “You couldn’t have done anything to save either of them.”
They embraced tightly, both hoping that if they squeezed as hard as they could that the world would be returned to its normal state. Antowan looked into her eyes and felt as if he were drowning. He tried looking away but her icy blue eyes mesmerized him. His vision blurred as he tried to return to reality. Under his breath he muttered a vow to never let anything harm her. After what seemed like an eternity he realized that they were still locked in embrace. Antowan, and Caitlin both turned red from embarrassment, and quickly parted ways. Antowan watched as she darted into the makeshift sanctuary pretending to be busy. He smiled. A few hours ago this girl was at death’s icy grasp, and unable to stop crying, now she was trying to be strong. He worried that none of them had the strength to survive this crazy new world.
“Ain’t this screwed up,” someone said from behind him.
Antowan spun around his weapon ready to see the only remaining white coat besides Ted left. Antowan lowered the desert eagle and looked at the man quizzically. The man smiled uneasily, almost as if he were embarrassed.
“ I mean we don’t have a pot to piss in, “ the scientist said. “Or a pecker to wring the piss out of.”
Antowan looked at the man strangely. He didn’t know whether to pretend to laugh at the awkward joke or to ignore it all together. He chose a mixture of both which seemed to sound somewhere between a word, and the neighing of a horse on it’s deathbed. Antowan blushed deep red, which gave the scientist an opportunity to repay Antowan with a strange look of his own.
“Shit is about to hit the fan,” the man said nervously. “You don’t wanna be around when the shit storm hits.”
Suddenly the man reached over and grabbed him. He smoothly slid a file to Antowan, making damn well sure that no one could see the package or the action itself. Antowan started to open the file but was stopped by the man. “There is irrefutable evidence that the government knew about this man. They knew what we would make, they knew the horror that would be unleashed!”
The more the man talked the more animated and louder he got. Bernard and Doctor Ted walked from the shadows to listen in on what the man had to say. Suddenly everyone but Antowan started laughing. He sighed, and handed the man the file.
“I just wanted to lighten the atmosphere,” he laughed. “My name is Damien. I was Bolivia’s Assistant even though my G.P.A. and I.Q. eclipsed his own.”
“Let’s not get into that,” Ted groaned. “We have more pressing matters at hand. For instance, Transportation.”
Antowan rubbed the bump on his head for the tenth time in twenty minutes. They were in a vulnerable position with no means of escape. Transportation had to have priority, other wise they would spend many days in the guts of a wrecked van on a deserted stretch of highway. Eventually, the creatures led by the “Alpha” Zombie would cross their path. He envisioned a massacre. Three average shooters, and one expert against the undead.
“We also need to set up a perimeter against any attacks.” The scientist continued. “I don’t want any surprises while I’m trying to sleep. Bernard, you and Damien help me with that. After that we need to try and fix the satellite. We need a safe place to go once we find transportation. This will probably be a dangerous job, but you’re the only one left to do this. Kid, you have to find something that we can travel in.”
Antowan pulled out his Desert Eagle and allowed the spent clip to fall to the ground. He replaced the clip with a loud snort, and left the scientists to their own devices. Antowan thought that it was great the way Ted had taken control of the group. He didn’t like his new job, however. He would have to leave immediately; and there was no guessing how long the journey would take. He just knew that it would most likely be a long and eventless walk.
He walked to the van hoping to find something warm to wear for the nighttime sky. After rummaging through a mixture of damaged, and more damaged apparel, he finally found something he could get wear. The flak jacket was black on the outside, and navy blue inside, and boasted a pocket for any practical use. He found a large leathery strap that he could use to guard his neck. He found it peculiar that the equipment seemed to be perfect to fight zombies. As before in his house, he grabbed a duffel bag, and stuffed anything that wasn’t badly damaged into it. He found a screwdriver, a baton, and several small blades, and various tools.
He turned to exit the side of the van, but was blocked by Caitlin. Silently the girl gazed into his face as if trying to commit the image to her memory. She suddenly turned and ran away. Antowan wanted to chase after her but everything inside him told him not to follow. What he was about to do was potentially dangerous, and he needed his mind on the matter at hand. If he were to keep the vow he made earlier, he would have to have his mind clear. He decided he would stop and talk with Bernard before he left the makeshift camp. He had a sick feeling in his gut, and it didn’t seem like it would subside anytime soon. The best person to talk to would be Bernard. Bernard in Blue, his would be assassin.
His new friend stood next to Ted as the scientist explained how he wanted the perimeter to work. Bernard stood rolling his eyes, as he listened to the long-winded instructions given to him by Ted. Bernard smiled as Antowan approached him. Although he wore a smile on his face, he seemed worried. No one felt good about the job he was unluckily qualified for.
“Well,” Antowan said to the man in blue. “I’m on my way. Need anything?”
Bernard chuckled softly, which turned into a deep and hearty laugh that almost scared the joker. Antowan made a mental note to never make a funny in Bernard’s presence again.
“You be careful,” Bernard said suddenly serious. “There are plenty of things that go bump in the night out there.”
Antowan began to speak but caught a glimpse of Caitlin peeking outside of the wrecked van. Tears still ran down the girls face. He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but he needed reassurance as well. He didn’t expect to make it back alive but there was no reason to tell anyone that. This was his burden, and it was his alone. His fake smile faded and he silently walked away from the camp area. He dared not look back and see Caitlin being stopped from following him.

An hour later Antowan stood at an off ramp trying to decide if he should exit or not. As he read the highway sign signifying lodging, and gas stations he heard a rustle nearby. Was Caitlin able to get past Bernard and the others? Not likely, he decided. The Desert Eagle glimmered like a brand new pearl underneath the light of the highway sign.
“Who’s out there?” He questioned the unseen stalker.
The rustle continued, prompting Antowan to investigate further. He exhaled deeply, realizing that he was breaking horror movie rule number one: the investigation of a strange noise in a strange place. How many unsuspecting victims did he watch be brutally murdered because they didn’t have the sense to let the police handle their job? He was sure it was in the hundreds of thousands.
Finally Antowan decided that he didn’t have to kill every zombie that he came across. His job was to find a vehicle capable of carrying the crew, and the equipment not damaged in the wreck. He quickly started down the exit intending to stop at the first gas station he saw. If he was lucky he could find a large enough vehicle to suit his needs. If he were very lucky the gas station would have a television that worked, and something desirable to eat. He hadn’t eaten all day, and his stomach was starting to complain.
Antowan reached the bottom of the off ramp and had a decision to make. Which way should he go? He looked to the left seeing no hint of civilization. To his right he could make out the familiar glow of streetlights. He never thought that something as simple as a lit streetlight would give him such joy. Without a second thought he made his way towards the glow of artificial light. In his excitement he didn’t hear the continued rustling of foliage behind him.

It only took him thirty minutes to find the source of the light, and he nearly cried upon the discovery. A large convenience store loomed over him like a big bright neon sign. There were no cars in the parking lot, and no signs of life in the store. He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.
The excitement of food slowly faded as he approached the door. The store was open twenty-four hours, so he assumed that someone was there. He was sure the hulking creature was miles away, so he didn’t expect to run into any intelligent zombies. Antowan knew that the entire theory about the “alpha” zombie was assumptive, but it definitely seemed plausible.
Antowan pushed open the door and entered. The cool breeze from the store’s air conditioning unit licked at his face giving him a temporary feeling of euphoria. He stretched finally feeling the effects of all the physical activity he endured during the day. The sound of his joints cracking resonated through the building giving him a sudden feeling of anxiety. A feeling of dread crawled up his spine as the hairs on his arm stood up. He decided that he needed to grab and go. He still had to find transportation.
Antowan quickly began shoving food inside the duffel bag he found in the van. As he did so, he looked up, and laughed. A nice sized television was hoisted above the counter for all to see. On the screen a tired looking female reporter stood on what appeared to be a battleground. He dropped a can of fruit cocktail, which rolled underneath the adjacent set of shelves. Ignoring the can of food, he walked to the counter. Maybe he could find out where the survivors are being sent, he thought. He found the remote, and increased the volume. The picture and sound cut out arbitrarily causing mild irritation in Antowan. He walked around the counter and smacked the box on its side. After further inspection he found that the television wasn’t equipped with cable. The picture was as good as it was going to get. Antowan resigned to watching the broadcast with the audio transmission cutting in and out.
The woman on the television screen appeared as worn out as Antowan felt. Her clothing was torn and her hair was knotted with sticks and other debris. She held her microphone unsteadily and a look of extreme fear was evident on her face. At the moment no sound was available but she was very animated, moving erratically. Behind her, a group of ten men and women with large guns stood firing. The reporter jumped every time a shot was fired. Antowan assumed that she was learning her job in the field. Antowan could relate; he was in the same position as the nervous reporter. Antowan couldn’t read lips so he returned to packing the bag with food.
“All survivors are to go to Breeze city.” The reporter’s audio finally came through. ”The undead activity in that city is remarkably low. You will be able to find shelter, and maybe loved ones that have been missing.”
Antowan’s feeling of joy returned even though the audio cut out again. He bent to pick up the can he dropped, and heard a low guttural growl. He slowly looked up to see a huge Saint Bernard glaring at him with gray eyes. Soon the growl was joined by more growls, and the sound of padded feet on tile. Antowan’s eyes widened as he saw three more over sized canine surrounding him.
“Holy shit!” he said under his breath.

[fluxchild]

well guys...I guess I'm about halfway through with this project, and I really want to push it further...I'm thinking about doing more stories with this guy if he survives....i like him...hope you guys are liking the story as well, it's kinda getting away from the freestyle idea, becuz I think about this story all the time

bump

[xtylerx]

I wanted to critique this, but I was kinda overwhelmed by the amount of text here. i would recommend perhaps posting a little less.

[fluxchild]

it's only 16 pages...I know it's a lot of text...but hey that's what a writer does. Thanks for trying to read it tho...that's cool...

more coming soon!

[fluxchild]

bump.....I'm completely doing away with the intro paragraph....so disregard it....

[fluxchild]

bump