The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Zombie or Post Apocalyptic themed fiction/stories.

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absinthe beginner
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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by absinthe beginner » Mon Apr 11, 2016 6:19 pm

TB, if we don't have an update by sundown tomorrow, I'm unleashing these oddly terrifying creatures against you....

http://imgur.com/gallery/7vCr1UW

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by Tinderbox » Tue Apr 12, 2016 1:28 pm

Three dead bodies came to the fence that night and dragged their bony hands along the corrugated steel. They moved slowly along, making soft tunk…tunk…tunk sounds against the barrier. Mundy figured that the gunfire from earlier in the day had drawn them in, though he was tempted to attribute it as much to the shouting match that Damon and Hannah engaged in around the evening campfire. As far as anyone could tell, it was an argument about which one of them got on the other’s nerves more. As their voices rose, Mundy caught Jekyll’s eye as the man gave him a heavy-lidded “I told you so” kind of look. To make things worse, instead of the quarrel creating a distance between them, the two inched closer and closer as they argued until their noses were nearly touching. Later, the sound of their furious lovemaking coming from the next greenhouse over was equally hard to ignore.

Though barely an inch of snow fell throughout the night, the freezing weather filled each of them with the grim realization that their chances for survival had been dealt yet another incremental blow. None of them said anything about it, but the tense looks on their faces when they woke at dawn and saw the white covered ground outside the greenhouse spoke volumes. The water treatment plant’s metal building would have provided more shelter from the elements, but the floor and walls were streaked with dried gore and it reeked of stale death and other unpleasant odors. Though Perry muttered about diluting some of the plant’s chlorine and using the mixture to sanitize the interior, they were content for the time being with the shelter provided by the greenhouse’s plastic sheeting.

The size of their afternoon and evening meals helped lift their spirits. Though lunch was merely tuna on crackers followed by ample amounts of dry, sugary breakfast cereal, dinner consisted of canned chicken, baked beans, flavored instant mashed potatoes and apple sauce in little plastic cups. Mundy felt his head swim as he finished his first portion and then realized that there was still plenty left for another helping. Still, he couldn’t help noting the kind of supplies that they took from the food locker.

“This stuff is all commercial brand,” he said, intending his words for Perry’s ears, “like it was scavenged here and there from grocery stores and houses. Not the kind of stuff I’d expect to come from some military supply bunker.” Perry’s neck stiffened and he turned his head as if to speak, but Damon spoke first.

“Yeah, Bowen bitched about the guy who he said left them here to rot. Said he talked big about having access to military supplies and shit. But in the end, it’s all just stuff they took from cabins and farm houses. Even the guns.”

Between the firearms they took from the gun locker and the ones they’d discovered lying around outside, there were more than enough to arm all nine of them. However, the three they’d found sheltering inside the control room – Hannah, Damon and Jekyll – remained unarmed. The decision had been made between Mundy, Acker, Katrina and Faye without discussion and it was one that Jekyll seemed to readily accept. Hannah and Damon, on the other hand, were less understanding.

“Okay, you’re not going to let us have guns?” Hannah protested from her seat around the morning fire. “The big – ” she dropped her voice to a whisper “ – the big retarded guy gets a gun, but we don’t?”

“Watch it,” Acker warned her. Though he undoubtedly heard, Wedekind merely looked away.

“They don’t trust us,” Damon said to her in a voice for all to hear. “They don’t know us, so they don’t trust us.”

“That pretty much covers it,” Acker replied lightly.

“Come on,” Jekyll asked the pair, “wouldn’t you do the same?”

“Oh, please,” Damon said, barking a bitter laugh, “don’t try ingratiating yourself with them by taking their side.”

“There’s danger all around – ” Hannah began to argue, gesturing widely.

“And as soon as we know for sure that you aren’t part of it, we’ll get you all fixed up,” Acker interrupted with an edge to his voice. “I always like to know a little bit about the folks I’m with. These people,” he said, indicating Mundy, Katrina, Faye and Perry, “they’re like billboards. You can see what each one of ‘em is from a mile away. But you three, I can’t quite read you yet.”

“You can see what we are?” Mundy said skeptically, slightly insulted at the man’s words. “Really?”

“Wannabe savior,” Acker said, pointing at Perry. “You,” he continued, waving his hand at Faye, “only care about saving one person. And you two,” he said, regarding Mundy and Katrina, “you think if you find your little lost lambs and bring them back into the fold, it’ll make everything all right, like the way it used to be. It won’t, though. And by the way,” he said, leaning close to Mundy’s ear and whispering, “I sure as shit can’t fault you for falling for her, but it ain’t ever gonna happen.”

Mundy stepped back and gave the man an annoyed look. “Telling what’s happened to us since it all began,” he said to everyone, though his eyes remained on Acker, “it’s a good way to get a…a read on a person, I guess. Why don’t you start?”

“Me?” Acker said with an amused look. “What’s to say? I stocked shelves in a little grocery store in Limbo, Nevada.” He poked the end of a stick into the fire causing sparks to rise. “Yeah, the name of the place pretty much says it all. The town joke was that when the end of the world happened, you’d wanna be in Limbo, Nevada ‘cause, like everything else, it would take ten years to get there. Fred Babjak was my boss. He always had the AM talk radio stations on at the counter. He heard the people calling in to those shows from around the country, saying what was happening. That was before they shut them down, of course. But Fred saw what was happening. Not me. Not until he stopped me in the back room one morning and laid it all out for me, how the delivery trucks were gonna stop coming and how we were all gonna be up shit creek before long. Still, it took me another two days to take him seriously. That’s when a car with California plates came in filled with some really freaked out-looking people and the guy who’d been driving vomited all over everyone waiting in line at the cash register. So, no, the end of the world didn’t take an extra ten years to get to Limbo, but living in a trailer outside town with no neighbors or nothin’ did have its advantages. Plus, when Fred got sick with the Gwailo and died, I had my store key and was able to fill up the old Cavalier with a month’s worth of non-perishables. When the carloads of refugees had stripped Limbo bare and I got tired of livin’ on Jack Rabbits and snakes, I drove toward the nearest FEMA camp. Along the way, some idiots tried stealing my car by shooting the engine full of holes and after that, I was on foot. Didn’t matter that I never made it the FEMA camp. Turns out, it was a bad idea to go anywhere near those places.”

The man nicknamed Jekyll snorted. “Tell me about it.”

“No family?” Faye asked Acker. “No one?”

“My family has a tendency…had a tendency,” he corrected himself, “to die young and to hate each others’ guts, so half of us were already dead and the other half lived hundreds of miles apart.” He shrugged. “No biggie. Actually, you know, this whole end of the world thing has been no big deal. Not really. I mean, except for no TV and being hungry pretty much all the time and really, really missing hot showers and…well, I guess the whole constant fear of being torn apart by a bunch of dead folks has worn a little thin. But apart from all of that, it’s been no big deal. I’ve actually gotten to do a lot of stuff I wouldn’t otherwise have been able to do, like sleep in big, expensive houses and drive a lot of different cars. Not many recently, of course, but early on I lucked into this Dodge Challenger with, like, two gallons left in the tank. Best five minutes of my life.”

“Okay,” Mundy said after it became clear that the man was done, “what about you two?” Neither Hannah nor Damon looked pleased at being addressed as “you two.” The woman answered first.

“Salt Springs,” she said in a flat tone. “I was in social work. The people on the local reservation stopped coming in and when I drove out, they had barricaded the only road in. Daniel Sand was there and he said it was…I forget exactly what he said, but it was his tribe’s version of the apocalypse. The ancestors were coming back, he kept saying. No one was dying anymore. I only found out what he was talking about two weeks later. Things got bad pretty fast. I saw Daniel Sand again, though, only this time he was walking down the highway with his face half gone.”

“And then you graced my life,” Damon chimed in, his tone sour.

“If I had only known, asshole,” she growled in return, “I would have told you to keep on driving.”

“And I would be in a happier place,” Damon rejoined. “I was on my way across the country. I got to see it all happen state by state. I got to see gas go from two-fifty per gallon to a-bullet-in-the-face per gallon.”

“Where were you headed going across the country?” Mundy asked.

“Where the wind took me,” he replied with a thin smile. “I was…” He swallowed and began again. “I’d just crashed and burned out of college…you know, grad school…and I wasn’t too eager to head back home to face my loving parents. I was going to keep going until my bank account went dry and then figure things out. Turns out, I never had to.”

“And that’s it?” Mundy asked after a moment of silence.

“That’s it,” Damon answered.

“That leaves you,” Mundy said, looking at Jekyll. The man stared back, clearly hesitant to begin. Then he blinked as though he had something in his eye, heaved a sigh and began.

“The guys on the TV said it wasn’t happening. Then they said it was, but it was nothing to worry about. Then they said it was serious, but the authorities were handling it. Then they said ‘Sorry, motherfuckers, you’re on your own.’” The man swallowed and shifted uncomfortably where he sat. “You’re just so…completely terrified…of what’s going on around you – the panic, the…the people running, shouting, shoving, killing each other over a working car or a little bit of food, not thinking that they’re just making more of the dead. And the dead, you know how they – the ones that have already squeezed all of the air out of their lungs – how they seem to just appear out of nowhere and fall on a…on a guy who’s just, like, sitting there? And then there’s the screaming and the wild shooting and more people get shot and die and…and get back up. But for some reason, through some stroke of luck, you get out. You get away and you find somewhere to hide for a little while. But then, when you’re sure no one’s following you and you have time to rest you…you start thinking of what you did to get away, the people you knocked down – the little kids you knocked down – the guy whose back you climbed on in order to get over that fence, the lady you pulled in front of you so that the corpse with the blood all over its mouth and the shattered ribs sticking out of its chest would get her and not you… Getting away and then having time to think back on what you did, that’s almost worse than…than not getting away.”

“What about family?” Faye inquired quietly, asking the same question she’d asked Acker. “Did you have any?” Mundy watched the man react as though she’d stuck a blade in him.

“Sue, my wife. Conner was six. Tara was five. We made it to one of those rescue centers, one they’d set up inside a big industrial park. For the first three days after we got there, we’d hear the Guard guys shooting about five or six times a day. A necro – or three or four of them – would come stumbling in toward the fence and they’d take ‘em down, drag away the bodies. That was right after we got there. But pretty soon we heard them shooting fifteen or twenty times a day. Then it was more. Then, you know, for that last day they were shooting all the time. None of us wanted to think about what would happen when they ran out of ammo. I don’t think most people there even considered it. But the next day we woke up to find the Guard gone and the dead at the fence.

“They left one truck behind that they couldn’t get started, but one of the guys there was a mechanic and he was able to get it working just as the dead pushed down a section of the fence on the other side of the industrial park. Then there was mad rush to get on. Only forty or so out of four hundred people were able to get on or grab hold. Sue and I and the kids were just barely hanging on the back. I had what remained of our food and water. Sue was behind me, trying to hold on to Conner and Tara. I wasn’t thinking we were going to get away with it. I thought we were dead for sure. I remember…” A fog had appeared before Jekyll’s face. His eyes seemed to stare into it, trying hard to focus on a distant point. “I remember having this insane urge to laugh. I don’t know why.

“So there we were, chugging through the parking lot, plowing dead people out of the way, running them over, getting nearer and nearer to the gate. And then the guy at the wheel smashed right through the locked gate and…and it wasn’t like it was in the movies. Smashing through really messed up the truck, but we kept going for a while, right through all of hose hundreds and hundreds of dead people that had been drawn in by all that shooting the day before. And I remember I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe we had made it with all those dead hands grabbing at us the whole way across the parking area. And I turned my head to say ‘Can you believe it?’ to Sue, even though my mouth was too dry to even say it and…and they weren’t there. They weren’t there behind me where they had been. I turned and looked and I couldn’t see any sign of them, just dead people, hundreds and hundreds of dead people. I hadn’t heard anything. I hadn’t heard her call my name or anything. They were just…gone.”

Mundy watched the man’s body language, noticing how he’d been gradually drawing in his arms until they were pressed at his sides and his hands were balled into fists.

“And you know what,” Jekyll continued, blinking at the memory, “I didn’t go back. When the truck finally melted down and came to a stop, I didn’t go back into that…that fucking sea of fucking dead people to fucking look for them. I just went on.” The man stopped talking and the silence that followed was like a sheet of ice.

“Well, that’s nice,” Damon said, shattering the brittle quiet. “You left your wife and kids behind and saved yourself. That’s just – ”

“Shut up,” Mundy said in a low voice, but Damon went on wearing a nasty smile.

“It’s just that I’m so amazed at the caliber of people I find myself surrounded with.”

“Shut the hell up!” Mundy told him loudly.

“No, no, you’re right,” Damon went on, shooting Mundy a dark look, “it’s good to know the kind of people around you. It’s good to know the things they’ve done.” He glanced at Jekyll. “Or the things they couldn’t bring themselves to do.”

“We’ve all done things,” Katrina countered.

“The stories aren’t to tell what we’ve done,” Mundy said to Damon with a penetrating look. “They’re to tell what a person might be covering up. Like, when a person’s story is skimpy on the details – like yours is – you can pretty much tell that they’re hiding something.”

Damon raised his chin indignantly. “Maybe I just don’t want to talk about it. Maybe I just don’t like reliving the…you know, the trauma of it all.”

“Maybe,” Mundy said. “But I don’t see you being so traumatized.”

“What about you?” Hannah demanded, glaring at Mundy. “No story of your own? Why don’t we get to hear your story and get a read on you?”

“Because I’m not joining your group,” Mundy replied. “You’re joining mine.”

“Who’s joining what, now?” Damon said with a humorless chuckle. “I never asked to join your group or anyone else’s.”

“Then you can pack a bag and head out as soon as you’re feeling up to it,” Mundy told him.

“We should…we should stay together,” Perry said weakly from where he sat. “We need to keep this outpost going and…and the more of us…the more of us there are – ”

“I hate to risk sounding like asshat here,” Acker said, giving a sideways nod at Damon, “but me and Wedekind never said anything about joining up with you either. This place,” he continued, looking around at the fenced in compound, “it has its charms, but we’re on our way someplace else.”

“An island,” Mundy said. “One that may or may not be there.”

“It’s there,” Acker replied. “Just gotta get there.”

“With winter coming,” Mundy added with a heavy dose of doubt.

Acker shrugged. “We came here with you ‘cause of the food and the bullets. I wouldn’t mind a day or two of rest before we head back out, but we’re not interested in anything long term here.”

“That’s stupid,” Mundy said bluntly.

“It’s all stupid,” Acker replied with a sharp, explosive laugh. “It’s stupid even trying. But we just keep on going. And for some totally insane reason, we’re still here. Who can say why?” He gestured at the cold, gray sky. “But someone up there must be enjoying the show, ‘cause here we are. And I think I ought to be going. And pretty damn soon.”

“We have a fenced in area,” Mundy argued, “and food for weeks – ”

“Shit!” Acker exploded. “I am not asking for your approval or your permission or any of that!” He paused, trying to recover his calm before continuing. “Listen, any time I hunkered down with any group for more than a day or two, it has ended badly. You understand? With the exception of Wedekind here, other people have brought me nothing but bad luck. That’s bad-with-buckets-of-blood luck.”

“I get it,” Mundy said heatedly, “but – ”

“No,” Acker interrupted, rising to his feet with clenched fists, “no buts about it. You know, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t need a day or two to rest here. I think I just need to get the fuck going.”

“I don’t really like greenhouses,” Wedekind said, looking at the structure next to where they sat. The comment had the dual effect of extinguishing the argument between Mundy and Acker and eliciting a snarky laugh from Damon who had been enjoying watching the two men bicker.

“You don’t like greenhouses?” Damon repeated with sharp derision. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“I camped out once in a greenhouse like this with my Uncle Snowy an’ my cousin Taylor back in the Fall. You know, when everything was fall-ing apart?”

“Yeah,” Damon sneered, “we get it. Thanks.”

“Uncle Snowy always said I took after him,” Wedekind went on, thinking that after the others had told their stories, it was his turn. “He always laughed and laughed every time he said it. Always treated me all right, though. Taylor never talked to me since I busted his arm once for makin’ fun of me. But my uncle took me an’ Taylor out to shoot the dead ones who killed his dogs. I went, even though Grandma was comin’ down sick. We went all around, shootin’ ‘em wherever we saw ‘em.”

“Wedekind,” Acker began, clearly having heard the story before, “you don’t have to – ”

“When we was out, we let it get too late and he said it was better to camp inside somewhere than just outside, so we knew the Hogans had packed up an’ left ‘cause of everything going on an’ we set up in their greenhouse for the night. Their greenhouse was glass,” he said, looking around him, “not plastic like these ones. And then, later on, we heard the door open at the far end an’…an’ I’d been getting’ good with my uncle’s twenty-two. I’d already put down three rotters with it, all head shots. So Taylor shines his light on ‘em – there’s two of them, a big one an’ a little one – an’ Uncle Snowy yells out ‘Get ‘em!’ an’…an’ I do, really quick, ‘cause I wanted to get ‘em before Taylor could. Bang-bang, bang-bang. Two shots each, but not head shots this time. An’…an’ the one starts screamin’… An’, well, you know the dead ones, they don’t scream.”

“You didn’t know, big guy,” Acker said quietly. “I told you that before.”

“The lady was alive for a few minutes. The little girl wasn’t.” Wedekind swallowed hard. “Uncle Snowy an’ Taylor laughed and laughed about it. They said…they said…some things. Turns out there was a car outta gas out on the road. Uncle Snowy figured they was just…just lost or somethin’. Taylor starts goin’ on about how I better hope this was the end of the world ‘cause if it wasn’t, I was gonna be goin’ to jail for a long time an’ how they was gonna do things to me in there.” Everyone present was quiet except for Damon who made a soft spitting noise and turned his head away as if in disgust. “It took me forever to get to sleep after that, but when I woke up, my uncle an’ cousin were gone. They’d took my uncle’s twenty-two and everything. I waited for ‘em. For half the day, I waited, but they never did show back up. So I went back home an’…” Wedekind’s deep voice cracked “…an’ grandma had died from the Gwailo an’ she was lookin’ at me through the kitchen window an’…an’ she stared pounding on it ‘til it broke an’…”

“Enough,” Acker said in a whispery voice. “That’s enough.” But Wedekind wasn’t finished with his confession.

“She never coulda crawled outta that window when she was…when she was alive, but it was like…well, the dead don’t care nothin’ about broken glass or bein’ too old to climb up over the kitchen counter. She just fell head first out into the yard an’ I heard all these bones go snap, but she got up anyways, all bent sideways, an’ started comin’ at me in this gross wobbly way. There was a shovel leanin’ against the garage an’ I grabbed it. I knew she was dead, but all I could hear was the time she told me once how granddad used to hit her an’ how mad an’ sad the thought of it made me an’…an’ I ran. I guess I shoulda, you know, not left her body up an’ walkin’ around, but I couldn’t hit her. Not after hearin’ how granddad used to. Pretty stupid, I know, but I wasn’t thinking too straight at the time. I don’t even remember nothin’ else until I was way on the other side of town near Mount Tartarus Road.”

“And a couple of weeks later, you busted down the door of the house I was sleeping in,” Acker said, eager to put an end to his friend’s story. “Scared the fuck outta me, you shithead.” The comment washed away the haunted look on Wedekind’s face and replaced it with a shy grin.

“The look on your face,” he recalled with a deep chuckle. “I can still see it.”

“You almost got yourself shot between the eyes,” Acker told him with a forced smile. “I still had bullets back then.”

“The only reason you’re still alive is that li’l girl scream you let out told me you weren’t one of them dead fucks an’ I didn’t bash your brains out,” Wedekind grinned.

“Yeah, well, anyway,” Acker said, turning to the rest of them, “the guy’s been a burden on me ever since.”

“An’ we’re goin’ to that island. The one you marked on the map.”

“That’s right,” Acker confirmed, suddenly eyeing the two vehicles parked side by side across the compound. “But there’s nothing’ sayin’ we gotta walk the whole way.” He stood and began shuffling through the snow, calling back over his shoulder to Mundy and the rest of the group. “You got two cars. You could part with one of them, couldn’t you?”

“You and Wedekind have been compensated,” Faye protested. “You have guns, ammunition and you can have all the food you can carry. Now you want one of the cars?”

“Sorry,” Mundy said after him, “transportation definitely wasn’t part of the deal.” But Acker was already halfway to the small hatchback and didn’t turn around. Mundy was no longer in any mood to argue with the man.

“Apparently, there was a big military truck at one time, too,” Damon commented in a disinterested way, “but Bowen said the asshole who was in charge here took off with it.”

Mundy watched as Acker went once around the older Mazda hatchback, wiping snow from the windows to peer into the interior and inspecting the tires. He was just about to try the door handle when Damon shouted across the distance between them.

“The little car’s dead. I asked when we first got here. They picked us up in the pimp-mobile,” he yelled, meaning the black Cadillac Escalade with the spoke chrome wire wheels and the windows tinted black.

Acker looked back at the group and then moved to the SUV. He brushed a bit of snow from the dark glass and cupped his hands on either side of his eyes, trying to see through the windows.

“If only one of them works,” Faye said to Mundy in a low voice, “then we definitely can’t let him take it.”

Mundy looked at her for a moment before replying. “Let him take it. His mind’s made up. We can’t force him to stay. At least,” he concluded, looking out across the compound to where Acker was reaching for the door handle of the SUV, “at least I don’t really feel like it.” Watching as Acker opened the vehicle’s door, it took him a moment to process what he saw.

Acker was suddenly on his back on the snowy ground. Another figure was on top of him, its face buried in the man’s neck. Faye let out a small cry of alarm and jumped up from her spot at the fire. Wedekind’s head snapped around to where his friend thrashed on the ground with the other body on top of him. He made a sound from deep down inside and was on his feet in an instant, running at full speed toward Acker. Katrina, Faye, Jekyll and Perry followed suit, scrambling to their feet and hurrying toward where the man struggled with his attacker. As Mundy began running, he heard Damon speak.

“So that’s where Priddy went to hide,” he said to the woman sitting next to him in a casual, off-hand way. Neither one of them made any move to rise from their seats next to the fire. “Huh. I guess they got her after all.”
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And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire..."

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by Halfapint » Tue Apr 12, 2016 1:42 pm

Omg omg omg omg! Squeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!
JeeperCreeper wrote:I like huge dicks, Halfapint, so you are OK in my book.... hahaha
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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by azrancher » Tue Apr 12, 2016 2:06 pm

Thanks for the update.

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by teotwaki » Tue Apr 12, 2016 2:43 pm

Wahooooooooooooooo!

Image

(yes, that is actually me jumping for joy)
My adventures and pictures are on my blog http://suntothenorth.blogspot.com

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by teotwaki » Tue Apr 12, 2016 2:46 pm

absinthe beginner wrote:TB, if we don't have an update by sundown tomorrow, I'm unleashing these oddly terrifying creatures against you....

http://imgur.com/gallery/7vCr1UW
Those freaky ducklings made ME want to write a story
My adventures and pictures are on my blog http://suntothenorth.blogspot.com

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by FlashDaddy » Tue Apr 12, 2016 5:08 pm

Thanks for the new chapter TB!
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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by Sheriff McClelland » Tue Apr 12, 2016 5:22 pm

It's Alive !

My week is complete . Too early for moar ?

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by URBAN ASSAULT » Tue Apr 12, 2016 6:09 pm

Thank you very much TB, a little moar Story is always a good thing.

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by TheWarriorMax » Tue Apr 12, 2016 8:00 pm

That was worth the wait. Thanks tb
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than facing fearful odds,
for the ashes of his fathers,
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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by absinthe beginner » Tue Apr 12, 2016 8:20 pm

Good update, TB. Now follow through for all you're worth. Don't make us wait another two months. Keep the plot & story moving forward.

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by 91Eunozs » Tue Apr 12, 2016 8:34 pm

Thank God TB is back!

That is all...
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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by jeepinbandtrider » Wed Apr 13, 2016 12:03 am

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:awesome: :awesome: :awesome: :awesome:
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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by 2T2-Crash » Wed Apr 13, 2016 3:03 am

His name... Was Acker. :ohdear:


ETA: I've been lurking for a long ass time and your story is one of the best damn ones I've ever read... Keep it up!

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by naanders94gt » Wed Apr 13, 2016 7:10 pm

Ohhhhhhhhhhh TB THANK YOU SO MUCH. I havent even read it yet but I had to thank you for not letting this story die. <3

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by naanders94gt » Wed Apr 13, 2016 7:25 pm

P.s. great update

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by akraven » Wed Apr 13, 2016 8:28 pm

Thank you TB. The story still lives!!!!!!!!!!! Great twist at the end.

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by independantGeorge » Thu Apr 14, 2016 1:26 am

yay. Destitute mountain in active topics again :)

Thanks TB, great update !!!

Gonna switch off the internet now and lay low in the bunker for 48 hours, before breaking opsec and checking back early for moar!!

powering down ... djeeeowwwwnnnnnn.
sent from my walther PPQ

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by selen » Thu Apr 14, 2016 5:45 am

That was super:)) Thanks:))

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by D_Man » Fri Apr 15, 2016 3:08 pm

Great update TB. Thank you!
To strive,
To seek,
To find, But not to yield.
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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by BadLands_Shooter » Sat Apr 16, 2016 1:40 am

Great update as always, TB.
Former Army Infantryman.

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by vthunter » Sat Apr 23, 2016 9:44 am

Well, that was another "killer" addition (sorry, bad pun there, TB :oops: ).

Luvin' some TDaDM story....... hope all is well and that you continue as possible....

Always looking forward to more!!

Thanks for giving us a dose to keep us going!!

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by Tinderbox » Wed May 04, 2016 8:44 am

Once again, Mundy wondered how someone so big could move so fast. Wedekind ran ahead of the rest of them, clomping over the snow covered ground until he reached the spot where Acker lay frantically trying to push the undead woman off of him. The big man didn’t slow his pace as he connected his size 15 boot squarely to the corpse’s ribcage, sending the dead woman rolling across the ground. Acker clutched at his neck as blood ran from the bite wound there. He held his other hand stiffly in front of him as blood dripped down his wrist from where one of his fingers had been bitten to the bone. Wide eyed, mouth agape, Acker scrambled away from the dead woman, staining the snow with crimson spatters until he had his back against the SUV’s front tire. Wedekind stared at his friend for a moment as the reality of the situation sunk in. Then as the rest of them finally caught up to the two and Faye knelt to help Acker, Wedekind finally found his voice, letting loose a yell of pure anguish and rage.

“Watch it!” Jekyll cautioned, pointing to the dead woman. “She’s back up!”

The corpse of the woman who had been named Priddy had gotten to its hands and knees and was looking at the buffet of live, warm flesh before it. With no air left in its lungs, the reanimated body dropped open its blood smeared mouth and make a wet, gagging sound from within its throat. In their haste to get to Acker, they had all left their rifles back at the fire and as the copse began to move, Katrina, Faye and Mundy all moved at once to the handguns at their sides. Wedekind, however, was quicker. His howl of desperation dying away, he turned angrily to the corpse and delivered a massive kick to its chin, causing its entire upper body to snap backwards. Like a rubber toy, it rebounded and crashed to the snowy ground. With its neck broken and its jaw smashed, only its eyes and mouth still moved. Wedekind stood over it and brought his boot down upon its skull again and again until it no longer resembled a human head.

“Wedekind,” Acker called out weakly, but the big man continued to stomp. “Wedekind!” he said again in a louder voice. Finally the big man stopped and turned. “I think you got her, big guy.”

Wedekind’s eyes flickered to the bloodied hand Acker held out in front of him. “You’re bit,” he said.

“Yeah,” Acker replied resignedly, “I’m bit.”

“I need to get the medical kit,” Faye said, rising from Acker’s side and turning back toward the campfire.

The first gunshot cracked through the cold air. Mundy felt the 5.56 round pass close enough to part his hair and ducked his head between his shoulders. Eight more shots came in quick succession causing them to scurry for cover. One nicked Wedekind on the shoulder. Another struck Perry, passing side to side through his calf muscle and sending him crumpling to the ground. Yet another blew out the dark tinted window of the SUV’s open door.

“I guess we’re armed now, motherfuckers,” Damon shouted at the group as they hurried behind the two vehicles.

Wedekind grabbed Acker by his jacket and quickly dragged him to the rear of the SUV where Katrina crouched. Jekyll and Mundy each grabbed one of Perry’s arms and pulled him behind the smaller car where Faye was waiting with a horrified look on her face. Four more gunshots from a different rifle followed the first ones. The 7.62 rounds - two sent into each car - punched clean through the vehicles and only missed the people hiding behind them by inches.

“Yeah, try hiding,” Damon shouted gleefully.

“You know who’s in charge now?” Hannah called out from beside him. “Yeah, that’s right, it’s us.”

“And those cars are not going to keep our bullets from killing each and every one of you.”

“Shoulda been nicer to us, assholes,” cried Hannah.

“Well, to be fair, we still would’ve killed you,” Damon added. The second rifle boomed again and another 7.62 round punched through the windshield of the hatchback, destroying the rear window and raining down small bits of glass over Mundy, Jekyll, Perry and Faye.

“What do we do?” Faye asked.

“Three of us have handguns,” Mundy replied, nodding at Katrina behind the SUV. “We shoot back and run in three different directions. Try to get around behind them.”

“Perry can’t run,” Faye said as she tended to the man’s leg.

“Give me that twenty-two,” Perry said to her, his teeth clenched from the pain. “I can’t run, but I can shoot back and give you covering fire. Maybe draw their shots so you can make it.”

“You’ve been hit in the leg,” Mundy told him. “As much as it hurts now, it’s going to hurt more. You’re five minutes away from passing out.”

“The bullet passed right through,” Faye reported. “It missed the bone, but I need to bandage you up.”

“What are you guys sayin’?” Wedekind asked.

“We’re going to start shooting back and make a run for it,” Mundy replied hoarsely. “Try to find some solid cover.”

“Then what?” Katrina replied. “They have all of our rifles.”

“They can’t shoot for shit, though,” Wedekind grumbled, clutching at his shoulder where the bullet had grazed him.

“I need time to dress his wound,” Faye told Mundy as she cut away at one leg of Perry’s pants with her knife, exposing the wound and intending to use the material as a bandage. “Stall for time.”

“Stall for time how?” Mundy asked.

“Hey,” Wedekind said, “someone’s got to patch up Acker.” He pulled a small, wrinkled, nearly empty package of facial tissues from his coat pocket and began applying them to the pale faced man’s bleeding wounds.

“Th-thanks,” Acker told the man in a quivering voice as the tissues instantly soaked red.

“Talk to them,” Faye said to Mundy. “Negotiate. Just play for time.”

“Okay,” Mundy yelled to Damon, “you’ve got us. So what do you want?”

“What do we want?” Damon replied. “What do we want?” He chuckled loudly so as to be heard over the distance between them. “Whaddya got? No, seriously. You know what that guy – the one who’s bitten – you know what he was saying about how this whole shit storm has let him do a lot of things he’d never have been able to do otherwise? Well, I started down that road before this whole fucking apocalypse thing even really got rolling. I got to that who-the-fuck-cares point and decided to do what I want when I wanted it. I wanted a car? I took a car. I wanted money? I took money. I think I was close to being caught there, too. But then the world was kind enough to start unraveling and the state troopers got busy with other things. So there, that’s my story. You wanted the whole thing? Now you’ve got it. I did crap out of college. Law school. That part was true. But that was almost two years ago. Two years and seventeen robberies. You know how many people manage to chalk up seventeen armed robberies and don’t get caught? That’s more than Bonnie and Clyde ever did.”

“Okay,” Mundy said, watching Faye tend to Perry. “So what now?”

“What now?” Damon yelled back. “Now you get shot and you die. You’re nothing to me. Nothing at all. You die and we get your stuff. That’s how it works. Especially now. But, hey, it’s nothing personal.”

“Damon,” Jekyll called out. “All that time we were stuck in that room, why didn’t you kill me then? It would’ve been more water and food for you.”

“I don’t know,” Damon replied, sounding genuinely pensive. “It’s hard to explain. There’s a right time to kill someone and I guess it was just never that time. Who knows? If these motherfuckers hadn’t come along, tomorrow might’ve been that time.”

“So,” Katrina shouted, getting into the game of playing for time, “when is it going to be the right time to kill Hannah? Is it going to be tomorrow? Or the next day?”

“Don’t even try it, bitch,” Hannah shouted back defiantly. “You can’t turn us against each other. He’s an asshole, but who cares? The world’s full of ‘em.”

“Hannah here sure thought the whole Bonnie and Clyde thing was a real hoot,” Damon called out. “Took to it real quick. I guess she hated her old life that much.”

“It sure beat dealing with sad sacks of shit day in and day out. Too bad the world ran out of convenience stores before we got the chance to hit more than just that one.”

“But we’ll shoot you and take your stuff,” Damon concluded. “You may be thinking about shooting back and running, but we’ll get you. Sorry this is so drawn out. I’m no sadist. Quick and merciful; that’s the way I think it should be. This whole back and forth between us, it’s just unnecessarily stressful to you. So…sorry. We’re going to end this now.”

“I think,” Mundy said to Katrina, “that’s all the time we can buy. Are you ready?”

“No,” she replied as she adjusted her grip on her Glock. “I’ve got sixteen rounds before I have to reload. I’ll fire ten while you run. You fire six while I run. Then me again. Then you…”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mundy answered, adding below his breath, “a really, really bad excuse for a plan.”

“I’ll run the opposite way you run,” Jekyll said, sounding thoroughly unnerved at the idea.

“You want me to run or stay here with Perry?” Faye asked.

“Stay put,” Mundy told her. “If there’s a lull in our return fire, maybe you can pop off a round or two in their direction.”

“Okay,” she nodded, her eyes wide and fearful. “Okay.”

“Acker, stay down,” Wedekind said. “Get yer ass down!”

In preparing for their suicidal run they had paid little attention to Acker. With Wedekind’s facial tissues stuck to his bite wounds like bright crimson patches, the man had hoisted himself to his feet.

“You and you,” he said to Wedekind and Katrina with all of the authority he could muster, “get on over behind that other car. And you,” he added directly to Wedekind, “take care of yourself.” He then turned and walked unsteadily around the side of the SUV toward the open driver side door.

“Acker!” Wedekind pleaded. “You’re gonna get yourself shot!”

“Probably,” the man muttered even as the first rifle round drilled a hole through the open door, missing him by inches. He climbed into the SUV as more shots slammed into the vehicle. “Glad someone had the brains to leave the keys in the ignition,” he called out as the engine rumbled to life. Five bullet holes appeared in the windshield and the rear window disintegrated above Wedekind and Katrina. “Missed, you motherfuckers,” Acker shouted in a strangely warbling tone.

“Acker!” Wedekind boomed again.

“What are they gonna do,” they all heard the man say as he put the SUV in gear, “kill me? They’re a little late.” The tires spun for a second or two spraying Wedekind and Katrina with dirt, snow and pebbles before the vehicle gained traction. The windshield’s tinted safety glass sagged inward as the Escalade accelerated away from the six of them and toward the campfire where Damon and Hannah began rapidly emptying each of the rifles they’d taken, trying to stop the charging SUV.
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And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire..."

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Re: The Dead at Destitute Mountain

Post by Sheriff McClelland » Wed May 04, 2016 9:10 am

... But it's death for Bonnie and Clyde.


I love this story !
Thanks for staying in the game Tb 8-)
"Yeah, they're dead. They're all messed up. "

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