HERE LIES: NO ONE [09]
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Last weeks vote:
>What was your reaction to the Goliath? [51%]Holy Crap!!! [39%]They're dead! [9%]*shivers* [0%]*Yawn* [-1%]weird...
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>Will all of Raf's group make it out of this situation alive? Yes 28% No 72%
>What was your reaction to the Goliath? [51%]Holy Crap!!! [39%]They're dead! [9%]*shivers* [0%]*Yawn* [-1%]weird...
>Do you like the idea of mechs vs. special infected? Yes 100% No 0%
>Will all of Raf's group make it out of this situation alive? Yes 28% No 72%
Chapter Nine: Heatwave
-So many people have been praying for years that their deceased loved ones could come back; could spend one more day with them… and now their prayers have been answered.-
-quote unknown
Something was different about these monsters. These… these were worse.
Tyler charged through the cornstalks, smashing his way through as his arms flayed about, pushing aside the plants. They whipped past him, smacking his exposed limbs and preventing him from seeing where he was going. There was a scream in the distance. Mason. The poor scout had been dragged off by the dead. Apparently he was still alive. By the noise though, it wouldn’t be for long.
A high-pitched shriek rang out from off to Tyler’s left. There was something inhuman in the noise. Tyler held his makeshift spear tighter and changed direction, carving a path in the field as he crushed the cornstalks. He could hear movement right at his heels. Multiple things were following him.
He glanced back, chancing a look. Half-seen between the vegetation were peeled back lips and sunken eyes. Hands reached forward and at the fingertips—thin webbing, like sticky string, stretched out; tangling between the digits. As the hands brushed past the corn, residue would be left behind, stretching out and sticking to other stalks. Like a fishnet. Like a spiderweb. Yeah, these monsters were different.
Tyler cut to the right, turning sharply. He tripped then picked up his speed, feeling his lungs and heart protest. Where were the others? Where were Hayden and Austin?
There was movement in front of him. Multiple forms. Groans emanated out and Tyler turned right again, now going back towards the distant road. These creatures were everywhere! Something snagged his left foot and he went sprawling, slamming his body down onto the dirt. His leg was tangled in something. He looked down, already pulling at himself and trying to get up. It was that residue stuff; that web. He hadn’t noticed where he was going and had ran right into it. He wrenched at his leg, trying to get free. He hissed as the stuff dug into his skin. It was strong! It stuck to him like wet glue, stubbornly not wanting to come off. The monsters were able to produce it from their fingers; those rotting split-end fingers, black and green… mutated.
There was a shuffling in the bushes and something came scuttling out. Tyler spun to face it in horror, squealing out weakly. It was one of them. One of the dead. It was a man; a rotting, legless monstrosity with pocketed skin and blood caked on his beard. He dragged himself forward, his disgusting fingers, like rotten split-open fruit, smeared and spread that sticky stretchy residue all over the dirt. Making a mess and dragging himself over it, he crawled forward towards Tyler, opening and closing his mouth with a clack.
Tyler couldn’t get away in time! He desperately looked around for something to defend himself with and remembered his spear. He picked it up from where it had fallen and pointed it at the dead man. The monster was already upon him and all Tyler could do was jab out furiously. The sharp end struck the man on the cheek, sticking through the skin and lodging down its throat. The creature didn’t even notice, but instead kept its wide primal eyes focused on Tyler. It continued to crawl forward, pulling itself along on its putrid hands. It slid up the spear shaft and Tyler gagged as the stick went deeper into the man’s throat, stabbing into and through organs. The monster pushed itself forward again and began to crawl up Tyler’s stuck body. Its fingers smeared and stuck to Tyler’s jeans and the form shoved forward again, trying to bite through the stick. It was now on top of him.
The monster’s face was inches away and Tyler did everything he could to keep the man’s head from coming down on him. He grunted and cried out, trying to shove the web-covered body off himself. The monster got its hands free and they came forward, grasping Tyler’s face. Those disgusting, wet, split fingers touched and stuck to Tyler’s cheeks. Tyler retched, mind racing to figure a way out of the nightmarish situation. The monster gurgled, blood drizzling from between its twitching mouth and punctured cheek. Tyler pushed up on the spear and the man lifted upwards somewhat. He let go of his weapon with one hand and reached around in the dirt with the other, trying to find a rock, a stick, something.
Tyler remembered the pocketknife he’d used to carve the spear. He fished in his jeans and pulled it out. Flicking it open, he plunged the blade into the monster’s eye socket. The creature still moved and Tyler pushed the blade deeper. Dark thick blood oozed out over his arm and the man stopped moving, going limp.
All of Tyler’s strength left him and the monster’s body dropped against him. He heaved in and out, feeling tears stream down his sticky face. His tears stuck to the webbing and to the creature’s fingers. Around him, the dead moved past, some shuffling and others half-running. They didn’t notice Tyler who stood still under the fetid corpse. When they were gone, Tyler began t work his way free; first yanking the rotten fingers off his face, careful not to tear his skin or expose himself to any chance of infection—something he’d learned in scouts when dealing with animal corpses—then he worked the strands of sticky substance from off his leg. Standing, he pulled the spear free from the dead man’s throat and slid out covered in more blood.
Tyler shuddered and ran off into the corn.
The radio back in Camp Stubborn had called the product of the infection zeeks. Living death. They had never mentioned variations of them. Mutations. These, these must be something new. They were like spiders, trapping their prey and crawling over them, eating at their own leisure. Tyler shuddered again. Spider zeeks. Ziders.
The field was unusually quiet. Tyler could no longer hear any other scouts screaming nor hear any zeeks–or Ziders—groaning out. He stopped, looking about. Over the tops of the tall cornstalks he could see the mountain peaks. He oriented himself to face left. That way was the road. He turned around. This way was the direction all the scouts had sprinted towards to get away from the attack. If any scouts were still alive, they would have gone that way. Tyler took off, sprinting through the vegetation.
In what seemed like twenty steps he broke through into a clearing and came to a dead halt, mouth opening in a silent scream.
Mason, cocooned in webs upon webs of sticky, slimy strands lay propped against a row of cornstalks that bent against his weight. The web covered most of his bottom face, tied his arms and legs either to each other or against the corn and pinned him down. The boy’s eyes moved about wildly as he weakly shook his head. Four Ziders slowly chewed away at his insides, enjoying their trapped prey. They moved about him, creating webbing that stretched across the entire clearing and stuck to everything, even the dead shambling corpses. They were having a buffet.
Mason was split wide open. One of the monsters stuck his entire head into the boy’s open cavity and began to chew. Tyler turned and ran, doing everything in his power not to scream. He headed away from the road, deeper into the fields. Faster and faster he moved, trying to get away. Mason! Oh Mason!
His foot met air and he tumbled forward, falling into a ditch he hadn’t spotted earlier. His body rolled down, slamming into rocks and branches. He came to a halt at the bottom, groaning in pain. A form approached him and Tyler sprang up, looking for his spear. He was going to kill them! All the zeeks! But it was only Hayden.
“Tyler! You made it! I thought you were dead! I thought… I thought…” Hayden began to cry, putting his hands up against his sand-colored hair. The boy removed his glasses and wiped at his eyes.
Tyler looked beyond him and saw they weren’t alone. Austin, Hayden’s younger brother rested against one side of the ditch. Blood soaked one of his legs and Tyler could see the brother’s two spears split and used as splints. Austin’s head bobbed up and down and the scout blinked slowly as if fighting unconsciousness.
“What happened to him?” Tyler asked, his voice sounding raspier than he’d like.
Hayden sniffled and looked up. “We ran. You disappeared in the corn and we had no idea where we were going. We didn’t see the ditch. I landed okay but Austin tore something on the way down. It was either a stick or a rock; I don’t know. He had a big chunk of his skin and muscle hanging out like a loose flap. It was all red and gross… I could see this layer of fat too.”
Tyler held up his hands to stop the boy. “I get it.”
He looked up and down the ditch. One direction led off back up towards the corn and the other end—the end that disappeared into the horizon—mountains rose up.
“What do we do now?” Hayden asked.
Tyler pointed towards the mountains. “We go that way.”
“Aren’t we climbing out of here?” Hayden asked.
Tyler shook his head, re-tightening his backpack and strapping his spear across the top. “Not with Austin like that. And not with the Ziders.”
“Ziders?”
“You saw them. The spider zeeks. They’ve got that entire field bobby-trapped.”
Hayden shuddered, giving a nod. “Yeah. What about Mason?”
Tyler felt his stomach roll. Whiting. Zito. Quinn. Jacob. Mason. He didn’t answer Hayden’s question.
The two scouts walked forward and grabbed Austin each by one arm, lifting the injured boy up. Together they helped the scout as the three of them walked along the ditch. Austin let out a groan, then went silent. The boy must have gone deep within himself to hide from the pain he was feeling. After the groan, Austin didn’t speak anymore.
It was over a mile before the ditch slopped upwards and onto a dirt path. There was no cornfield on the other side of the road. Instead they were met by rolling dry grassland. Flat yellow terrain that they could see for miles. No zeek would be able to sneak up on them. The road traveled out towards the distant blue and purple mountains. Tyler could see a dark line across the bottom of the horizon, indiscernible behind the heat haze. Maybe a forest. They silently turned towards it and began to walk.
A blur in the distance; the heat waves making it smear across the horizon. The mountains in the background never grew larger. The blur was wide, that was all Tyler knew. His mind had melted in the fire from the sky. The three boys stumbled on for hours, half the time not even aware of each other.
Tyler had fallen twice, only to wake up moments later left behind. He caught up, only to find the other two boys had fallen as well. Wordlessly he would reach down, hoist them to their feet, and they would move on. His tongue was swollen. His eyes felt like they permanently stuck out. His lips cracked and bled.
The blur was a mirage. It teased them with its darkness. Pointing out its coolness. Sanctuary from the heat. At one point Austin lost his backpack. They never went back to retrieve it.
Memories rushed through Tyler's head as he shuffled his feet. Places in the past filled with cold wetness. Swimming pool splashes. Snowballs thrown. Boating in green lakes. The blur wasn't much of a blur anymore. It was a green expanse filled with glittering sunlight. Like jewels strung on strings hung up from icicles. Mocking him. Watching intently as his body melted into slag. Blew away as gray ash in a hot wind of despair. Burst from eternal hellfire within.
Tyler fell. He heard the other two scouts fall beside him. Dominoes.
The asphalt wasn't as bad as he thought. It wasn't as hot as it seemed. It was actually very soft and fluffy. It was wet and rainy. It was comforting and not trying to kill him. It was time to sleep.
Above him he heard chirping and the rusting of leaves. A cool breeze played with his face, tickling his eyebrows. He reached up to scratch them and a rash scraped against the asphalt.
Pain. The asphalt was merciless.
Tyler's eyes jerked open. He slowly stood and looked ahead. A mere foot ahead of him was a forest.
“Hey.” he rasped. It felt like chunks of his throat-skin was flying out of his mouth.
The two scouts didn’t stir. Tyler shuffled to them and dragged them to the shade of a nearby tree. When he finished, he collapsed in exhaustion. But again, despite the ache, he stood back up. He walked into the forest. A sound beckoned him to it. A mountain racing in a booster car.
When he found the river, there was no excitement in his body, just basic animal instinct to drink. Tyler fell face-first into the water.
It was a shot of heroin to his brain. Ice into his belly. A grin of satisfaction came over him. Even though his brain protested against the sudden change in temperatures, he still swallowed greedily. Minutes passed before he remembered his friends. Feeling his strength return to him, he jumped out of the river and ran to find them.
It took forever for him to bring both to the edge of the riverbank. It took even longer for him to wake both up with the water. When awake, both brothers drank like pigs.
Their voices found them again and soon all three were laughing and enjoying the luck of being alive. After they recuperated, they cleaned Austin's wound and put a fresh piece of cloth over it. They filled their two remaining canteens to the brim and decided to walk alongside the river in the direction of the mountains.
Always the mountains.
They had to ditch the river; their progress had been blocked by a mess of tangled trees and other plants. They moved back up to the road which now would between the trees. The walk was a lot faster for the boys. Energy had been returned to their bodies by the blessed water.
Tyler spent the time staring up at the sky and enjoying the wind rustle through his hair. Hayden and Austin did the same.
At first, none of them noticed when a structure appeared right in front of them in the middle of the road. It was hastily constructed and resembled a dome. Maybe something similar in architecture to what Indians used to live in.
When the scouts finally realized what they had stumbled across they became knock-kneed and a shiver of pure fear ran through their bodies. For the dome, the particular dome, was made of bones, flesh, and propped bodies. A house of meat.
-quote unknown
Something was different about these monsters. These… these were worse.
Tyler charged through the cornstalks, smashing his way through as his arms flayed about, pushing aside the plants. They whipped past him, smacking his exposed limbs and preventing him from seeing where he was going. There was a scream in the distance. Mason. The poor scout had been dragged off by the dead. Apparently he was still alive. By the noise though, it wouldn’t be for long.
A high-pitched shriek rang out from off to Tyler’s left. There was something inhuman in the noise. Tyler held his makeshift spear tighter and changed direction, carving a path in the field as he crushed the cornstalks. He could hear movement right at his heels. Multiple things were following him.
He glanced back, chancing a look. Half-seen between the vegetation were peeled back lips and sunken eyes. Hands reached forward and at the fingertips—thin webbing, like sticky string, stretched out; tangling between the digits. As the hands brushed past the corn, residue would be left behind, stretching out and sticking to other stalks. Like a fishnet. Like a spiderweb. Yeah, these monsters were different.
Tyler cut to the right, turning sharply. He tripped then picked up his speed, feeling his lungs and heart protest. Where were the others? Where were Hayden and Austin?
There was movement in front of him. Multiple forms. Groans emanated out and Tyler turned right again, now going back towards the distant road. These creatures were everywhere! Something snagged his left foot and he went sprawling, slamming his body down onto the dirt. His leg was tangled in something. He looked down, already pulling at himself and trying to get up. It was that residue stuff; that web. He hadn’t noticed where he was going and had ran right into it. He wrenched at his leg, trying to get free. He hissed as the stuff dug into his skin. It was strong! It stuck to him like wet glue, stubbornly not wanting to come off. The monsters were able to produce it from their fingers; those rotting split-end fingers, black and green… mutated.
There was a shuffling in the bushes and something came scuttling out. Tyler spun to face it in horror, squealing out weakly. It was one of them. One of the dead. It was a man; a rotting, legless monstrosity with pocketed skin and blood caked on his beard. He dragged himself forward, his disgusting fingers, like rotten split-open fruit, smeared and spread that sticky stretchy residue all over the dirt. Making a mess and dragging himself over it, he crawled forward towards Tyler, opening and closing his mouth with a clack.
Tyler couldn’t get away in time! He desperately looked around for something to defend himself with and remembered his spear. He picked it up from where it had fallen and pointed it at the dead man. The monster was already upon him and all Tyler could do was jab out furiously. The sharp end struck the man on the cheek, sticking through the skin and lodging down its throat. The creature didn’t even notice, but instead kept its wide primal eyes focused on Tyler. It continued to crawl forward, pulling itself along on its putrid hands. It slid up the spear shaft and Tyler gagged as the stick went deeper into the man’s throat, stabbing into and through organs. The monster pushed itself forward again and began to crawl up Tyler’s stuck body. Its fingers smeared and stuck to Tyler’s jeans and the form shoved forward again, trying to bite through the stick. It was now on top of him.
The monster’s face was inches away and Tyler did everything he could to keep the man’s head from coming down on him. He grunted and cried out, trying to shove the web-covered body off himself. The monster got its hands free and they came forward, grasping Tyler’s face. Those disgusting, wet, split fingers touched and stuck to Tyler’s cheeks. Tyler retched, mind racing to figure a way out of the nightmarish situation. The monster gurgled, blood drizzling from between its twitching mouth and punctured cheek. Tyler pushed up on the spear and the man lifted upwards somewhat. He let go of his weapon with one hand and reached around in the dirt with the other, trying to find a rock, a stick, something.
Tyler remembered the pocketknife he’d used to carve the spear. He fished in his jeans and pulled it out. Flicking it open, he plunged the blade into the monster’s eye socket. The creature still moved and Tyler pushed the blade deeper. Dark thick blood oozed out over his arm and the man stopped moving, going limp.
All of Tyler’s strength left him and the monster’s body dropped against him. He heaved in and out, feeling tears stream down his sticky face. His tears stuck to the webbing and to the creature’s fingers. Around him, the dead moved past, some shuffling and others half-running. They didn’t notice Tyler who stood still under the fetid corpse. When they were gone, Tyler began t work his way free; first yanking the rotten fingers off his face, careful not to tear his skin or expose himself to any chance of infection—something he’d learned in scouts when dealing with animal corpses—then he worked the strands of sticky substance from off his leg. Standing, he pulled the spear free from the dead man’s throat and slid out covered in more blood.
Tyler shuddered and ran off into the corn.
The radio back in Camp Stubborn had called the product of the infection zeeks. Living death. They had never mentioned variations of them. Mutations. These, these must be something new. They were like spiders, trapping their prey and crawling over them, eating at their own leisure. Tyler shuddered again. Spider zeeks. Ziders.
The field was unusually quiet. Tyler could no longer hear any other scouts screaming nor hear any zeeks–or Ziders—groaning out. He stopped, looking about. Over the tops of the tall cornstalks he could see the mountain peaks. He oriented himself to face left. That way was the road. He turned around. This way was the direction all the scouts had sprinted towards to get away from the attack. If any scouts were still alive, they would have gone that way. Tyler took off, sprinting through the vegetation.
In what seemed like twenty steps he broke through into a clearing and came to a dead halt, mouth opening in a silent scream.
Mason, cocooned in webs upon webs of sticky, slimy strands lay propped against a row of cornstalks that bent against his weight. The web covered most of his bottom face, tied his arms and legs either to each other or against the corn and pinned him down. The boy’s eyes moved about wildly as he weakly shook his head. Four Ziders slowly chewed away at his insides, enjoying their trapped prey. They moved about him, creating webbing that stretched across the entire clearing and stuck to everything, even the dead shambling corpses. They were having a buffet.
Mason was split wide open. One of the monsters stuck his entire head into the boy’s open cavity and began to chew. Tyler turned and ran, doing everything in his power not to scream. He headed away from the road, deeper into the fields. Faster and faster he moved, trying to get away. Mason! Oh Mason!
His foot met air and he tumbled forward, falling into a ditch he hadn’t spotted earlier. His body rolled down, slamming into rocks and branches. He came to a halt at the bottom, groaning in pain. A form approached him and Tyler sprang up, looking for his spear. He was going to kill them! All the zeeks! But it was only Hayden.
“Tyler! You made it! I thought you were dead! I thought… I thought…” Hayden began to cry, putting his hands up against his sand-colored hair. The boy removed his glasses and wiped at his eyes.
Tyler looked beyond him and saw they weren’t alone. Austin, Hayden’s younger brother rested against one side of the ditch. Blood soaked one of his legs and Tyler could see the brother’s two spears split and used as splints. Austin’s head bobbed up and down and the scout blinked slowly as if fighting unconsciousness.
“What happened to him?” Tyler asked, his voice sounding raspier than he’d like.
Hayden sniffled and looked up. “We ran. You disappeared in the corn and we had no idea where we were going. We didn’t see the ditch. I landed okay but Austin tore something on the way down. It was either a stick or a rock; I don’t know. He had a big chunk of his skin and muscle hanging out like a loose flap. It was all red and gross… I could see this layer of fat too.”
Tyler held up his hands to stop the boy. “I get it.”
He looked up and down the ditch. One direction led off back up towards the corn and the other end—the end that disappeared into the horizon—mountains rose up.
“What do we do now?” Hayden asked.
Tyler pointed towards the mountains. “We go that way.”
“Aren’t we climbing out of here?” Hayden asked.
Tyler shook his head, re-tightening his backpack and strapping his spear across the top. “Not with Austin like that. And not with the Ziders.”
“Ziders?”
“You saw them. The spider zeeks. They’ve got that entire field bobby-trapped.”
Hayden shuddered, giving a nod. “Yeah. What about Mason?”
Tyler felt his stomach roll. Whiting. Zito. Quinn. Jacob. Mason. He didn’t answer Hayden’s question.
The two scouts walked forward and grabbed Austin each by one arm, lifting the injured boy up. Together they helped the scout as the three of them walked along the ditch. Austin let out a groan, then went silent. The boy must have gone deep within himself to hide from the pain he was feeling. After the groan, Austin didn’t speak anymore.
It was over a mile before the ditch slopped upwards and onto a dirt path. There was no cornfield on the other side of the road. Instead they were met by rolling dry grassland. Flat yellow terrain that they could see for miles. No zeek would be able to sneak up on them. The road traveled out towards the distant blue and purple mountains. Tyler could see a dark line across the bottom of the horizon, indiscernible behind the heat haze. Maybe a forest. They silently turned towards it and began to walk.
A blur in the distance; the heat waves making it smear across the horizon. The mountains in the background never grew larger. The blur was wide, that was all Tyler knew. His mind had melted in the fire from the sky. The three boys stumbled on for hours, half the time not even aware of each other.
Tyler had fallen twice, only to wake up moments later left behind. He caught up, only to find the other two boys had fallen as well. Wordlessly he would reach down, hoist them to their feet, and they would move on. His tongue was swollen. His eyes felt like they permanently stuck out. His lips cracked and bled.
The blur was a mirage. It teased them with its darkness. Pointing out its coolness. Sanctuary from the heat. At one point Austin lost his backpack. They never went back to retrieve it.
Memories rushed through Tyler's head as he shuffled his feet. Places in the past filled with cold wetness. Swimming pool splashes. Snowballs thrown. Boating in green lakes. The blur wasn't much of a blur anymore. It was a green expanse filled with glittering sunlight. Like jewels strung on strings hung up from icicles. Mocking him. Watching intently as his body melted into slag. Blew away as gray ash in a hot wind of despair. Burst from eternal hellfire within.
Tyler fell. He heard the other two scouts fall beside him. Dominoes.
The asphalt wasn't as bad as he thought. It wasn't as hot as it seemed. It was actually very soft and fluffy. It was wet and rainy. It was comforting and not trying to kill him. It was time to sleep.
Above him he heard chirping and the rusting of leaves. A cool breeze played with his face, tickling his eyebrows. He reached up to scratch them and a rash scraped against the asphalt.
Pain. The asphalt was merciless.
Tyler's eyes jerked open. He slowly stood and looked ahead. A mere foot ahead of him was a forest.
“Hey.” he rasped. It felt like chunks of his throat-skin was flying out of his mouth.
The two scouts didn’t stir. Tyler shuffled to them and dragged them to the shade of a nearby tree. When he finished, he collapsed in exhaustion. But again, despite the ache, he stood back up. He walked into the forest. A sound beckoned him to it. A mountain racing in a booster car.
When he found the river, there was no excitement in his body, just basic animal instinct to drink. Tyler fell face-first into the water.
It was a shot of heroin to his brain. Ice into his belly. A grin of satisfaction came over him. Even though his brain protested against the sudden change in temperatures, he still swallowed greedily. Minutes passed before he remembered his friends. Feeling his strength return to him, he jumped out of the river and ran to find them.
It took forever for him to bring both to the edge of the riverbank. It took even longer for him to wake both up with the water. When awake, both brothers drank like pigs.
Their voices found them again and soon all three were laughing and enjoying the luck of being alive. After they recuperated, they cleaned Austin's wound and put a fresh piece of cloth over it. They filled their two remaining canteens to the brim and decided to walk alongside the river in the direction of the mountains.
Always the mountains.
They had to ditch the river; their progress had been blocked by a mess of tangled trees and other plants. They moved back up to the road which now would between the trees. The walk was a lot faster for the boys. Energy had been returned to their bodies by the blessed water.
Tyler spent the time staring up at the sky and enjoying the wind rustle through his hair. Hayden and Austin did the same.
At first, none of them noticed when a structure appeared right in front of them in the middle of the road. It was hastily constructed and resembled a dome. Maybe something similar in architecture to what Indians used to live in.
When the scouts finally realized what they had stumbled across they became knock-kneed and a shiver of pure fear ran through their bodies. For the dome, the particular dome, was made of bones, flesh, and propped bodies. A house of meat.
