PART ONE FINALE!

 

Frank didn't waste any time jetting down the hall out of sight.  Sarge didn't hesitate much either but he did take a moment as the huge beast carried Donovan through the next wall into the conference room.  Instead of following Frank, Sarge followed the monstrous bulldozer of a zombie.  Running up to the massive hole in the wall, he arrived just in time to see that thing carry Donovan through the next wall and into the following room.  He felt the need to keep following even  though every part of him wanted the run the other way.  The smaller zombies were apparently smarter than the battle weary soldier for they had the good sense to stay away from the area.

As Sarge ran behind the grotesque freight train, he realized that the way was getting brighter and the lightning flying from Donovan was getting heavier and wilder.  That caused him to pause in awe as the two continued through wall after wall until they were both engulfed in a powerful green storm.  Before he realized what was going on, the two erupted into an explosion of green fury; throwing debris, smoke and lightning Sarge’s way.  He instinctively dodged behind a wall as the force of the blast reminded him of some the biggest bombs he had dodged back in the war.

After waiting for the smoke to clear, he pushed away part of a ceiling that nearly buried him.  Dusting himself off, he walked toward the epicenter of the blast.  The green lightning was gone.  It was dark as only the emergency lights were on and they were flickering to near extinguished.  He walked from room to room in utter amazement.  The damage that thing had done was amazing.  Just think if the military could bottle that much rage and power. There would be no stopping it.  Suddenly, Sarge couldn't help but think if it wasn't for the whole flesh eating machine thing, that would be great.

As a grin cracked his usually stern face, he heard coughing.

“Donovan!!”  He yelled as he broke out in a run.

He found the boy half covered in building debris and bloody, fleshy mess.  The muscle bound youth was dragging himself out of the quick-made grave.  Sarge hurried to help him to his feet.

“Where’s the monster…”  He asked almost as a young child would after a nightmare.

Sarge laughed and helped him to the side door that led to a hallway, “Well, apparently you blew it up..”

Donovan was shocked, “I didn’t mean to…I couldn’t control it…Frank…he cut me..”

Donovan collapsed into Sarge’s waiting arms as the soldier’s hands became doused with a greenish hot flow of blood proceeding from Donovan’s side.
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Frank didn't slow down at all.  He wasn't about to look back even though things had gotten real quiet after the explosion.  He just kept running haphazardly; bouncing off one wall and, then, another.  The finesse of the Samurai was gone.  He was now running like a scared rabbit from the most dangerous predator he had ever encountered.  He felt so different somehow.  He was showing the weakness that he hated seeing in others.

And suddenly he found himself standing in the halls of NASA surrounded by a mass of scared rabbits. His clothes were torn and tattered.  His hair was disheveled and his skin dirty.  But he felt exhilarated but confused.  He couldn't remember how he got here.

  The panic was pathetic as people ran through the halls.  Suddenly he was surrounded by scared rabbits.  There was a siren blaring and some voice over the speakers above calming telling the people to exit the premises.  But there was no calm here; only fear and panic.  He found himself stepping on people who had not been so lucky and found themselves trampled underfoot.  The floor was littered with them…the weak.

“There’s a bus out back!  We need to get as many as we can get on it…”  A man ran up and ordered Frank like he knew him.  But no one knew Frank; not even Frank.

Instead of helping the obviously injured man to the bus, he did what any sane person would do; saved himself.  He doesn't even remember stabbing the man in the side or slitting his throat, but there was the body.  And there was Frank robbing the keys to the bus and the man’s wallet and gun.  He watched as he walked calmly through the halls still littered with people scurrying to and fro looking for somewhere to hide.  He simply pulled the gun up and began to shoot them, one by one.  One shot, one kill, just like the video games.  Who said they wouldn't come in handy some day?  He dropped every living man and woman in his way until he got to the bus out back.  There were people trying to force the door open; a whole crowd of them.

“Back away from the door and I will open it, but you have to remain calm…”  Frank said with authority.

The crazed group reluctantly stepped back and allowed him to the door.  Frank walked up, unlocked the door and quickly entered.  The crowd stepped forward to their escape only to find the doors locked again.  They attacked the doors once more as Frank started the bus.

“What are you doing?” One woman carrying a small child asked, “There’s plenty of room!  You can save us!!”

Frank looked down at the woman with a blank look on his face, “Why?  You’re all so weak.  You’ll only die anyway.  Might as well get it over with…”

The woman stood there in shock as the bus sped off and plowed through the gate; disappearing from view.  In his place, pouring through the hole he made in the fence, were thousands of shambling zombies with a hungry look in their eye.  As frank passed out behind the wheel, he woke up on the floor of the hallway he had been running through.  Standing over him was Alex, Rachel and Dean.

Dean was leaning down close, “Where are Donovan and Sarge?  Huh, Frank?  Where are they?!!”

Before Frank could answer, he passed out.
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When Frank came to he was being dragged by Dean as the young soldier was using his right hand to gun down the advancing dead.  The team was working very well together; cutting a path out into the side street and down toward the square.

“Are you sure we can’t just leave him?”  Dean shouted.

Sarge didn't take his eye off the battle, but kept mowing them down, “Buck up soldier, you have your orders!”

Donovan had recovered a bit, but was holding his side as he ran and used his right hand to flash lightning into target after target.  Alex was in his element; both guns out blazing.  He was still missing about half the zombies he shot at, but he was still making headway.  Rachel was leading the way.  That woman was a wonder as she let loose both barrels of her shotgun clearing huge holes in the hoard.  Frank was almost impressed.

Suddenly, Dean looked to check on his patient.  Catching eye contact he realized Frank was awake.

“You have beautiful eyes…” was all the lunatic would say.

Dean pushed Frank off, sending him falling to the ground, “Better get up, freeloader or you’ll be zombie meat!”

Frank snarled back, “Best be careful you don’t go first!”

Suddenly, Frank pulled his sword and headed right at Dean.  The young military man almost shot him as the sword whizzed past his head, slicing through a monster that was a bit close to Dean.  Frank had saved him from being attacked from behind.  

Frank just grinned, “You’re welcome…”

With that, he exploded into his Samurai frenzy again.  With Frank at full force, the team began to mow’em down even faster.  In no time, they were at their destination, across the street.

“This is the police station?”  Alex asked sounding disappointed.

Sarge ignored him and began to bark orders, “Form a parameter and keep them back.  This may take a little time.”  

“What may take a little time?”  Alex blurted, “We risk life and limb just to get across the damned road and you’re gonna ‘take a little time’?”

Sarge had already tried the main door and waved Dean in, “Well, I was afraid of this.  The doors are locked down pretty heavy.  But, no fear, Dean can break it.”

Alex looked around as the hoard was licking his chops.  He reloaded and said a little prayer.  Rachel did the same as the zombies slowly walked forward.  They seem to take their time now; knowing their prey was trapped with their backs against the walls.

Donovan was leaning against the wall on the far right, his clothes drenched in his odd green blood.

Looking right at Frank, Donovan questioned, “Why the hell did you cut me, man?”

Frank was cleaning his sword, but not just cleaning it, draining it into a vial.  Without looking, he answered, “Oh, quit your blubberin' !  You’re fine aren’tcha?”

“The HELL I am.  You cut me!”  Donovan returned.

“Oh, really?  You look ok to me.”  Frank said motioning toward the cut.

Donovan checked his wound.  It was totally healed.

“What da HELL?” Was all the boy could muster.

Frank corked the vial and added it to a collection of vials in his backpack; one of which was glowing bright green.  The dead continued to advance and the group became a bit fearful.

“Whatever it is you gotta do to get in that station, do it fast!”  Alex was now yelling quite loud.

Sarge wouldn't even look, “Just hold them off.  The lock’s jammed.”

Alex rolled his eyes, “Easier said than done.”

The hoard was almost on them and they knew there were too many of them to hold off for any amount of time.  They began looking at each other as if to say this was the end when they felt a strange vibration deep down inside.  Across the square, at the Marriott hotel, lights came on and pierced the night; illuminating the whole area.  Thousands of zombies were there and most were looking at the rag tag little group with their backs against the wall.  That is, until the lights went up and a horn was heard blowing.  It bellowed across the square and the hoard as one turned to face the source of the light and sound.  Alex along with the whole group (including Sarge and Dean) were starring at the powerful lights.

There was movement on what seemed to be the second floor of the Marriott as figures stepped out into view.  Suddenly, all the recently dead turned away and began moving toward the lit up hotel.

“What da hell?”  Donovan blurted.

They had been given more time as none of the zombies were paying them any attention.  Hopefully, this would be the time they would need to get into that police station.


END SECTION ONE