Help yourself... or don't.

Zombie or Post Apocalyptic themed fiction/stories.

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Spazzy
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Help yourself... or don't.

Post by Spazzy » Fri Jan 24, 2014 1:26 pm

Ok so I've been lurking here for a while and read a TON of awesome stuff, and some not so awesome stuff. :rofl:

Been writing off and on for many many years, but never anything like what is here, and nothing even close to a professional level, always wanted to though...

With that being said, I'll throw caution to the wind, and add a short (is 4600 words short?) piece I started writing yesterday afternoon and finished up this morning.

I started with a VERY vague idea of where I wanted to go and well see for yourself where it ended up.

Please be gentle with comments, I can take criticism and I really do try to not take it personally!

But some of you can be brutal. :(

Anyway... here's hoping you enjoy it.
Overheard at my USN retirement ceremony....
"So he's not a team player then?"
"You mean Spazz...? Hes not even a fan of the team."

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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by Spazzy » Fri Jan 24, 2014 1:26 pm

The current thoughts running through his head were that he was tired, hungry, dirty, stressed out, pissed off, and most of all scared shitless. That last part he admitted to himself freely and often. He couldn't believe how screwed up the last week had been, everything went to complete and utter shit almost overnight. Last week he was happily employed as the manager of the human relations team at a state run office which controlled all the social services departments in the state, an important job, now he was running for his life through these damn trees and bushes looking for a safe place to go.

He muttered quietly to himself as he unsnagged his suit jacket from a thorny bush for what seemed like the fiftieth time today, "How did it all come to this?" Of course the coat ripped. He screamed in his mind, "Stupid coat, stupid bushes, STUPIDSTUPID STUPID..." He wanted to fall down and cry, and thought to himself, I still might as soon as I feel safe enough to do so. He was heading what he thought was South, the sun rises in the East... is that right? Who cares, just get anywhere away from the city.

A week ago he had been at the office when screams sounded from the reception area, multiple screams of pain and shock. He thought it was another of those office shootings so he immediately locked his office door, turned off the light, and hid under his desk hoping he wouldn't be noticed. He quietly grabbed his desk phone and dialed 911, only to get a computer telling him all circuits were busy and they would get to him as soon as they could. The screams continued, and he wasn't proud of the fact that when something large slammed into his door he pissed himself like a frightened child. He heard running, shouting, screaming, smashing, and it was all happening at the same time. He heard someone, a woman, yelling, "GET AWAY FROM ME! NO! NO! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH." That last scream seemed to go on for hours, sounding like a siren fading in and out, over and over.

He waited for the police to show up and take him out of there. That was their job. It was what they were paid to do. They would come save him. If he only waited for them to get there. He heard sirens, outside his window, so he knew they were on their way. He also heard what he would swear were gunshots at one point, and more screams right outside where the parking lot was. Then the slamming of car doors and the roar of cars speeding off.

He was wet, and cold, and scared out of his mind.

He stayed hidden.

He stayed quiet.

He had eaten his lunch during the night in the glow of the parking lot lights, hardly making a sound as he did so in fear that whatever was out there would come through his door. The city sounded like it was falling apart outside. He urinated timidly in a darkened corner of his office, trying to be quiet by letting it course down the wall to the carpet, the whole time only thinking about how embarrassed he would be when everyone found out. He knew they talked about him behind his back, and this would just make it worse. He could smell it and wondered if when the police got there they would see and smell it too, but he wouldn't dare spray air freshener because of the noise it would make.

The next day he heard nothing more from outside his door for hours. He wasn't sure if he had slept or not, but he had watched the room lighten from under his desk as the sun came up.

The police had not come... Why?

He listened for any noises. Any people saying anything that would mean he could leave his office. But there was nothing, just silence outside his door. Out in the city he could hear gunshots, cars speeding off this way and that, sirens far off in the distance, a helicopter overhead moving fast, a car had even crashed somewhere close. Once he even heard an explosion! He was terrified. He silently wondered, what is going on? Why is this happening? When are the police going to get here?

He waited until midday, then he decided he could carefully risk a look outside his door. He steeled himself for anything, ready to slam the door shut at the least provocation. He cracked the door open, just a tiny fractional amount, barely enough to look into the hall, and saw... nothing. He waited, straining to hear anything, he heard and saw nothing. There was nobody at all left in the office. He debated what he should do, standing at the door, for almost an hour, thinking, watching, listening, finally coming to the decision that he should at least look down the hall. So he looked, still saw nothing but the normal office décor, even if it had been deathly silent and not the usual hustle and bustle of his typical office day. He moved into the hall, ready to bolt in a second back into the safety of his own office. Quietly he moved down the hall, determined to see if he could leave and go home, so he had chosen to head towards the exit and not deeper into the office. He peeked around corners, into cubicles, and back behind himself constantly. It wasn't until he got to reception he knew something very bad had happened here, there was blood everywhere. Blood on the walls, floor, doors, desk, and when he looked behind the desk, a body.

He screamed and ran out through the front doors to the parking lot in a blind panic. He thought he saw a few people in the parking lot, one of whom may have even called out to him, but he focused only on getting out of there. He didn't care, he wanted only to go home to his apartment and lock the door where he could be safe from whatever had happened in his office. He ran to his car, started it, and in full on flight-or-fight mode he slammed the gas to the floor and roared out of the lot barely noticing the figures in his rear view mirror. They can find their own ride, he thought. Besides, he couldn't let anyone see his stained pants, they would know what he had done then.

He drove for home through a city gone mad, it did not take him long to see something was seriously wrong. He drove past several cars that had smashed into either other cars and in one case into a building. He wondered aloud, "Where were the police? Why aren't they here at these accidents? Where are the people?" He saw nobody at first, then he watched as a man came around a corner and staggered right into the street towards him. He swerved to avoid hitting the man and kept going, yelling, "IDIOT! Watch where you're going! MORON!" Not that the guy would hear him in the car as he sped by, he would never actually yell out the window where a person might hear him and confront him, but he did feel better when he yelled things like that in the safe privacy of his car.

He was headed out of the city towards home, he couldn't afford to live in the city but hoped to do so someday, he saw more and more disturbing things with every passing block. Things like that car smashed onto the sidewalk with a body obviously under the front wheels. And there was a baby carriage with what looked like blood smeared over it tipped over on the side of the road. He saw people walk out into the road behind his car as he passed, but no other cars moving and he was not going to stop until he was home unless he was pulled over by the police. He stayed at the speed limit but that was the only traffic law he followed, only slowing for the stop signs. He slowed to a stop when he caught a red light, looking around nervously. He saw several people start walking towards his car. He nervously spoke, "Hurry up you stupid light... cmon... cmon... CMON!" BAM! Something hit his car in the back! He looked and saw a man smash his hands onto the hood of the trunk! Ye yelled, "What the HELL? What are you doing?!?" BAM! As he struck the car again. "Get away from my car! STOP THAT!" BAM. BAM. BAM. All as the man walked around towards the driver's door of the car. He was denting the trunk, and now the roof probably. There were about five or six people, including the man, all walking towards his car now, several of them moaning like they were hurt. He pissed himself again as he looked closer and saw a woman who had her arm mutilated with only a raw red stump sticking out of her dress on the right side, slowly walking to his door from the side of the street. "Screw this!" He yelled as he stomped on the gas and the car shot forward. "What the hell is going on?!?!" He hit the radio button looking for answers.

A male announcer was speaking in a calm steady manner: "...State emergency management officials issued the following statement this morning: There have been outbreaks of violence throughout the city. There have been hundreds of reports of people attacking others with extreme violence. The CDC has issued a warning stating that if you are approached by any persons who appear to have suffered any bite type of injuries you must avoid all physical contact. The Army National Guard has been called in by the Governor to assist local police to ensure public safety, protect property, and to evacuate people to secured areas. National Guard members are currently manning checkpoints at strategic locations throughout areas around the city, if you approach a checkpoint, you will be stopped and checked out by personnel. Failure to comply with orders will be grounds for detainment, deadly force has been authorized.

American Red Cross disaster workers arrived in the area this morning to assist residents with evacuating. Anyone in need of assistance can contact the American Red Cross at their nearest emergency shelter. Military vehicles are being used to support evacuation missions from established secure areas to safe zones outside the city. Immediately make your way to the closest emergency shelter if it is safe to do so. Do not attempt to shelter in place no matter how secure or well supplied you feel you are.

Again, a state of emergency has been declared in the city, there have been outbreaks of violence and rioting throughout the city. As of 8AM the Governor has declared the city under Martial law. A curfew of 7PM has been put into effect and any citizen out between the hours of 7PM and 7AM will be subject to arrest and detention without council. All reserve, military, and law enforcement personnel are ordered to report for immediate deployment. All emergency, firefighting, and medical personnel have been federalized and are to report to their nearest station of duty to be deployed as required. State emergency management officials issued the following statement..."

The same statement looped twice more before he shut it off. I have to get out of here, he thought, where is the closest shelter? I don't know this area... I'll just keep going home, that's outside the city, I'll be safe there. I'm not going to be attacked. I'm not stopping for anything. Those people back there were the ones the radio warned about, the ones attacking people.

As he drove, he saw a woman screaming "HELP ME!" run from a building into the street in front of his car. She saw him and pleaded with him to stop. He drove right by her and watched in the rearview mirror as she was mobbed by three attackers. Not my problem he thought to himself, as long as I'm safe. He headed out of the city as fast as he could safely go, her screams fading in the distance.

An hour later he was frustrated because several times the road was blocked, either by accidents, stopped empty cars, or those "sick people" mobbing the streets. He backtracked and tried several roads out, but only gained a block or two for every three he had to go back. He only needed a clear street, he only needed to go a few miles and he would be safe. He finally had to abandon his car when he was stopped for a wrecked truck that had collided with two smaller cars, blocking the road. He couldn't go back because the road was filling with those creepy, slow moving, moaning sick people who seemed only to want to hurt him. So he ran.

He had seen people running, and others that were driving that he attempted to flag down and get a ride from and he could not understand why they did not stop and give him a ride to safety. It made him furious that they would leave him behind to run and hide while they were safe. They had room in their cars for him, he could see it when they rushed by. One even tried to hit him as he stood in the middle of the road to get them to stop. He had to dive to the side to avoid being run down. "Asshole" he thought, but did not yell out because what if they heard and stopped to threaten him? Then what?

Hours later he made it to his apartment. It was getting dark. He remembered the curfew and wondered if he saw a patrol if he should get help from them. They were the government, they would have to help and take him to safety. He decided if he saw a patrol he would demand they assist him. But as he watched from behind his curtains, he never saw any patrols. And not many other people either. He did see groups of people who moved slowly down the street though. He knew they were the ones hurting people though, so he did nothing to bring attention to himself. He did turn on the TV and saw only an "Off Air" background with a scrolling text message that basically said the same things he heard on the radio earlier. It did list shelters to go to, so that was different, but none of the ones listed were near his location. His apartment was in a small converted house with three other apartments, but he heard nothing from any of them. Either they were all gone, or they were staying silent like he was. The phone was dead, no help there either.

After dark he couldn't see much outside any longer, the shadows on his poorly lit street did not help. He had complained to the city several times but they never did anything about it. He whispered aloud, "Maybe now they will do something." He ate some cold dinner and decided he would stay on the couch listening for any type of rescue. He heard drawn out moaning several times during the night, some far off gunshots, then at around 1:30AM a frenzied banging, suddenly a crashing breaking noise, then frantic screaming from a house down the street. After that nothing close by. He stayed quiet, sleeping in fits, the smallest noise jarring him wide awake with fear coursing through him.

He awoke in the morning with a start when a truck drove by at a high speed. He was only able to hear it go as by the time he looked out the window it was past his view. He saw nothing else and decided to eat and change since he forgot to do that last night, sleeping in his dirty clothing for the second night. He wanted to shower, but was afraid of the noise so settled for dampening a towel and wiping himself as clean as he could. Then he heard them. A lot of them out in the street making their way slowly by, following the same direction as the truck had. He got a good look this time. He was now thoroughly terrified. All of them were torn up in one way or another with horrific looking injuries on most of them. Missing chunks out of arms, legs, even faces! They looked like they had been attacked by animals, as most were covered in bloody gore. A few were missing limbs and it seemed like they didn't even notice or care. What was wrong with these people?!? He watched, frozen, in silence, waiting for them to go away. It took three hours for them to walk or crawl out of sight. He had watched every minute of it, not daring to move, hardly daring to breathe. This was unreal.

He sat back down on the couch wondering what to do when he heard it, another truck! Wait! At least two trucks! Coming towards him. I have to get outside, they have to save me! He threw on his suit coat and ran outside. There were THREE trucks! Military looking ones! He watched as they turned off his street in the distance. "Oh NO!" He said out loud. He started to run up the street where they had turned, knowing he would not make it anywhere close for them to see him. He desperately ran on anyway. They never stopped. He suddenly realized that now he was out here... With THEM. In a panic he ran back to his apartment, tears streaming down his face, praying to a God he didn't believe in for safety. He made it back inside and locked the door.

He stayed there for four more days, waiting, watching, listening.

The power went out on the 4th day.

The water stopped on the 5th.

Half way through the morning of the 6th day, he decided he had to leave and make his way to one of the "safe zones" that the TV talked about. He had seen no other people, trucks, helicopters, or anything other than the slow moving sickly looking people outside since those three trucks days ago. He was almost out of food. He had only two small bottles of water left. He had no choice, he had to seek rescue. He knew the way out towards the closest safe zone, but he did not know exactly where it was. But he knew one should only be a few miles from his home, maybe six miles he thought. He watched out the window for over an hour, while thinking all of this, before he gathered his things into a small gym bag and left when he decided it was safe enough.

He quietly and quickly made his way down the street constantly keeping his eyes open for any signs of trouble. He saw a few of the sick people, they were looking really bad, moving even slower and stiffly. He avoided them, and they never saw him. After about two hours and several different streets, he made it to one of the main roads out towards closest the safe zone, but had to abandon the road almost immediately due to the sheer numbers of sick people along it. There were stopped cars bumper to bumper as far as he could see down the road. He could not go that way. He left the road and started walking through the industrial areas, never seeing another person. He went around buildings and fences, climbed over fences when he had to, always heading in the direction he thought he needed to go. This area of the city was more trees, dirty trash blown lots, and industrial type areas rather than residences. He kept going. He would make it somewhere where he could be safe.

He looked overhead when he saw several military looking helicopters heading from the direction of the city and out to where he thought must be a safe zone. It was about 3PM and he was starting to worry he would not get there before dark. Off in the distance he saw a warehouse type brick building with lots of windows near some railroad tracks and headed for it. He wanted to find a place to hide before dark. When he finally got there another hour had passed. It was a huge building, that dirty reddish orange brick color bricks get after being in the weather for decades. The sides of the building had to be at least 300 feet long and had huge multi paned windows on what looked like three floors. It looked abandoned, a lot of the windows were broken. The entire place was surrounded by an eight foot chain link fence with barbed wire bent inward at an angle on the top. The gate he could see was chained and locked. No way he could climb the fence with the barbed wire on it. But there was a road at one end of the building that crossed the three sets of train tracks that ran down the side of the building that had one of those crossing guard things with the lights and road blocking arm thing warning traffic about trains that was right next to the fence! He could climb the crossing guard box, climb onto the barbed wire, and then it was only a short jump down onto the big grey electric box that powered the crossing and be inside the fenced in lot. So he did, only ripping his pant leg once on the barbed wire.

Getting into the building was a bit harder. The doors were all locked and he saw no other way in. He had to break one of the small office door windows and open the door from the inside, relocking it behind him. He hoped nothing heard the glass shatter when he threw that brick at it. He went into the office and saw the building had indeed not been in use for years, some papers left on the floor were dated from almost 10 years ago. He searched through the offices until he found one with a door he could lock. It looked like a conference room with a scarred up heavy wooden table and a few chairs scattered around with shabby yellowish imitation leather cushions. With the fading light of the sun through the windows, it was getting darker by the minute inside, so he put the chairs together and made a couch from them against the door. He thought if anything tried to get in he would be best off sleeping on the chairs against the only door. In the dimming light he ate from his supplies, drank his last water, and laid down to sleep. His last thought being, "Tomorrow I will find those helicopters, and they will help me."

He woke after a fitful sleep not feeling very rested. He was hungry and thirsty, but only had a few remaining crackers to eat. He said, "Today I will find that safe zone, and they will have better food, and drinks, and a nice bed for me."

He left the building after making sure he heard nothing out of the ordinary and watching through the windows outside. He climbed onto the grey electric box and then the barbed wire using one of the chairs from the office to get over it and down the other side of the fence without incident. Then he started walking along the railroad tracks in roughly the direction he saw the helicopters going yesterday.

He walked for about four hours when he saw that the tracks were taking him near a highway that was not a place he wanted to be. It looked the same as the road he avoided yesterday, cars and trucks stopped along the entire length of it and the sick wandering everywhere around them. He had to leave the tracks and go cross country through the woods. He was not thrilled...

My only coat and now that bush went and ripped it, he angrily thought. How will it look when I get to the safe zone? My coat ripped, my shoes filthy, and my pants ripped. I'm going to make a great impression.

It was then he heard more helicopters in the distance. They were headed in the same direction he was but they were coming from his rear left and moving to his right front. He adjusted course and kept moving in that direction, they had to be going somewhere near the safe zone.

An hour later he crested a hill and before him there was a grassy field that stretched down to a roadway and on the other side of that he there was another field in which he could see a large fenced in area with tents, trucks, and PEOPLE! It was only about another mile or so away! He would finally get the help he deserved!

He started moving in earnest, almost smiling to himself.

He got to the roadway about 20 minutes later. He crossed with no problems as the only sick people he could see were away from him further down the road on both sides. He started crossing the field through the grass and brush when he saw two men who were obviously soldiers on the roof of a large truck parked right inside the fence of the camp. They were standing inside what looked like a sandbag fort on the roof of the trailer of an 18 wheeled truck. He needed to get closer so they would see and rescue him. As he made his way through the field he could hear the sounds of his salvation close at hand.

He was about fifty yards away when he yelled to the men, "Hey you two up there! Come down here and let me in!"

The men looked at him and raised their rifles as he came through some thick brush. One of them yelled to him, "STOP RIGHT THERE! Do not come any closer! You need to make a left turn and follow the fence to the entry gate where you will be examined and assisted from there."

He yelled up at the men, still walking forward, "I work for the Governor, therefore you people work for me! You need to..."

"SIR! If you take one more step, I WILL open fire! You need to immediately make a left turn and follow the fence to the entry gate," the second soldier said.

How dare they! He knew how to handle these types, he would NOT be talked down to... He yelled back, "You WILL come down here and let me in right NOW! THAT is your JOB! Don't make me inform your superiors about how you..."

Something grabbed his shoulder in an iron grip and spun him down to the ground. Then he felt a white hot pain where his shoulder met his neck. He screamed out in agony as he realized one of the sick people was biting him, tearing chunks from his shoulder. He felt more hands on him and then a ripping and more massive pain in his right calf. He screamed until he passed out.

"Why didn't you shoot the one coming up behind him?" asked the first soldier to the second.

"Guy was a dick." Was the only reply.
Overheard at my USN retirement ceremony....
"So he's not a team player then?"
"You mean Spazz...? Hes not even a fan of the team."

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TacAir
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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by TacAir » Fri Jan 24, 2014 1:41 pm

OMG, love the ending... WIN!
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Spazzy
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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by Spazzy » Fri Jan 24, 2014 1:43 pm

TacAir wrote:OMG, love the ending... WIN!

LOL Thanks! Means a lot coming from you, I love reading your stuff.
Overheard at my USN retirement ceremony....
"So he's not a team player then?"
"You mean Spazz...? Hes not even a fan of the team."

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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by Tinderbox » Fri Jan 24, 2014 2:35 pm

I did NOT see that coming! :lol: Thanks, Spazzy. I'm still smiling at that ending.
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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by Spazzy » Fri Jan 24, 2014 2:48 pm

Tinderbox wrote:I did NOT see that coming! :lol: Thanks, Spazzy. I'm still smiling at that ending.

Oh? How do YOU like it?!?! After what YOU did to your character! :rofl:

Yeah... see what I did there? LOL

Thanks! Looking forward to more from you as well.
Overheard at my USN retirement ceremony....
"So he's not a team player then?"
"You mean Spazz...? Hes not even a fan of the team."

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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by MaconCJ7 » Fri Jan 24, 2014 4:52 pm

Good short. Loved the ending.
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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by DTyra » Fri Jan 24, 2014 9:19 pm

"Guy was a dick."? Time to reappraise my attitude towards others. Good story...great ending.
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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by Kali » Sat Jan 25, 2014 12:38 am

Very nice!

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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by 91Eunozs » Sat Jan 25, 2014 8:54 pm

:lol:

Loved it! Nice job...
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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by DannusMaximus » Sun Jan 26, 2014 12:18 am

Pretty clever, Spazzy! Always, ALWAYS be nice to the grunts... :wink:
Holmes: "You have arms, I suppose?
Watson: "Yes, I thought it as well to take them."
Holmes: "Most certainly! Keep your revolver near you night and day, and never relax your precautions..."

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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by KentuckyRifleman » Sun Jan 26, 2014 9:24 am

Really good story - I like how you flip things on him when he is driving and doesn't help people and when is walking and seeking help from drivers.
Insert clever quote here

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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by DAVE KI » Tue Jan 28, 2014 12:21 am

Gotta admit I didn't see it coming either.Great ending for a dick.
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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by Nancy1340 » Tue Jan 28, 2014 2:13 am

Very good. Thank you.

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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by Spazzy » Tue Jan 28, 2014 7:30 am

Thanks so much all for the comments! They mean a lot!

I'm glad this was worth the effort to write! :D

I was angling for someone you would start out thinking like "Oh yeah, I could see doing that."
Then going into "What an asshole."
Finishing up with "I hope he gets shot!"

I'm happy it worked out ROFL! :rofl:
Overheard at my USN retirement ceremony....
"So he's not a team player then?"
"You mean Spazz...? Hes not even a fan of the team."

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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by Spazzy » Wed May 07, 2014 1:41 pm

Ok, here's another short I hope you enjoy.

Edited 06-10-14 only for the "wall of text" I hit you with before... LOL



Shit I hate these patrols, he thought, We always end up with someone dying... Just hope it isn’t me this time.

He moved quietly up the side of the street, the eight other squad members spread out nearby. All moving just as silently as he did, the only sounds the soft scrape of a boot, a whisper of cloth, or the light tinkle of metal against metal. All of the noises were swallowed by the natural sounds around them, the creaking of a tree in the light breeze, paper rustling in the street, leaves, whatever. Silence was the name of the game these days, if you wanted to stay alive anyway.

There were some who finally cracked under the pressure and just wanted it all to end though. Not always with a bullet or knife either. Like that guy last week when that zombified five or six year old kid wearing the torn and dirty dinosaur jammies came staggering out of the bushes with his tiny arms held up like he wanted to be carried. Guy just lost it. Started crying, dropped his rifle, picked up the kid, then ran off through an overgrown park bawling and wailing at the top of his lungs. Cradling what used to be a child to his chest while it tried to eat him through his vest. They had tried to follow him, but his blubbering started a riot of movement in the brush and weeds. We never even got close. But we were plenty close enough to hear him screaming as they tore him apart. But he didn’t want to think about that too long or he might just end up running off screaming to his death as well. Besides it would totally suck major ass to be daydreaming and die he mused.

A very soft, very short, whistle broke his thoughts. Everyone froze in their tracks and crouched. It was the squad leader getting everyone’s attention. Must be something up ahead, with a quick jolt of fear he wondered what it was. He strained his ears to hear anything like the moaning or shuffling that usually signaled they had been found and were now the first-come-first-served lunch buffet special. Nothing but the sounds of the decaying buildings around them, it was quiet.

He turned his attention, well some of his attention anyway, to his squad leader who was using the sign language they used in hot zones to indicate their next moves and orders. People rarely spoke out here now, as noise could mean a painful and maybe a not very quick but totally agonizing death these days. Hell, people didn’t talk much even when they could do so with impunity anymore it seemed. Nobody got very close to anyone anymore. Especially since doing so would open you up again to the horror of losing that person, possibly only hours after you became best friends, or lovers… And those who were close before everything went to shit lived in constant fear that every single day could very well be their last together. That shit wore on a person worse than just being alone in a crowded room.

He snapped back to paying attention when the squad leader pointed at him, then two others, indicating the orders were for them. He jerked his head slightly in a “yes” motion stating he understood that the three man team was to clear the house on the right, and he watched as another team was given the same signals for the house on the left. The rest were ordered to spread out and keep watch in the street for any roamers or other issues. Those “issues” being anything from sighting more survivors, raiders, crazies, even squad members flipping out.

Raiders were worse than the zombies in his opinion. Since the military easily outgunned most other groups, the raiders in this area were known to throw noisemakers near a squad to lure in the undead to finish them off. The raiders would simply mop up after the feast, collecting any spoils.

That thought got him to thinking, sick bastards deserved what the squad did to the last ones they caught. They had seen where the raiders were hiding when they tossed the string of firecrackers at their feet from the window above. The squad cleared the small group of Z’s that had showed up, but it could have gone horribly wrong very easily. They had gone hunting for the fuckers after that. The building only had two entrances, easy to cover any escape. The squad had quickly broken up into three teams and the winners of the impromptu paper-scissors-rock tourney got to go hunt the building, the losers stayed outside and covered the entrances.

They found the raiders on the third floor, hiding in a closet of all places. The stupid assholes didn’t even have guns, only kitchen knives and baseball bats. They pleaded for their lives while they were dragged outside, saying they only wanted the weapons as it wasn’t fair they didn’t have any. They had forced the four of them to lay down in the street side by side, head to feet, one face up, the next face down, then face up again, and so on… Then they had zip tied their wrists together, none too gently either, in a twisted version of one of those paper people chains that children cut out with scissors, every other man upside down and backwards. They took their remaining fire crackers, lit them, tossed the whole bunch on top of them, and then they took off double time for the building to watch from the same window that the raiders had been in.

Only three Z’s showed up. Two of them started eating on one end, the last one on the other. Took them over an hour to even get to that one middle guy, he was one of the face down ones, screaming and crying into the dirt how sorry he was the whole time, still “chained” to his buddies remains. When the squad finally left, after sharing what they had found in the raiders backpacks of course, the Z’s were so fat they couldn’t even walk right, and one of them had burst his stomach. THAT was gross.

His team started moving to the house, so he fell in with them and they made their way quietly and carefully to the place. The house looked like it was a nice place before the current times, he noted. It was a smaller white vinyl sided one story place with those dormer windows sticking up out of the roof that tried to trick people into thinking they bought a two story place.

The team did a sweep down the right side of the house, down the driveway that went into the backyard, and had started to make their way through the backyard, headed around to the other side of the home. Standard procedure was to watch and listen the whole way around the place, looking for any indications of anyone, or anything, inside. Made it a thousand times safer than just busting in the door like in the movies and hoping you didn’t find fifty deadheads inside where they made their last stand and all of them had died doing it.

All the windows were boarded over, which was pretty common now, so those were a loss for recon. But noise might carry, especially if a Z started hammering on the doors, walls, or boards in an attempt to get out and say “Hello.”

The team member in the front froze, crouched, and raised his fist in the “STOP RIGHT NOW” signal. We all immediately took a knee facing in three different directions, each of us looking and listening as hard as we could. Coming from the house on his left he could hear muffled noises. He listened even harder, if that was even possible. After observing for a few minutes, all he could tell was that there was definitely "something" in the house, whether it was alive or not was another matter entirely.

The team quietly moved out when the signal was given to do so, continuing on around the other side of the place and back out to the street. On the side of the house there was a refuse pile, a grocery bag of fresh shit had ripped open when tossed out the “second story” window. Evidence that whatever was in there was still alive, or had been during the morning anyway. The team made it back to the street and indicated what they had found out through silent gestures to the squad leader, who then signaled two more members to join their team in case of hostiles inside, as a group they headed for the door.

He always hated this part. Receptions in general went one of three ways; the best, and rarest, was “Thank God you have come to save us!” Another was sudden gunfire. The worst, and most common, was what he thought of as a "chorused moaning of Welcome to dinner, you look fabulously delicious” type noise. You just never knew which way it was going to go, so he prepared for the gunfire as that was the one that would get you dead the quickest.

Since they knew there was something in the house, they would try for a stealthy entrance if possible, a fast surprise if not. Usually people would solidly board the windows, then lock and barricade a main door but never seal it completely, after all, how would you get out if you had to leave quick if you had no exits? This door opened in, and he found it was locked after he softly tried the knob.

He took out the “snap gun” that at least one member of each team carried and was also trained in its use, otherwise known in the movies as a “lock pick gun.” The thing was basically a thin metal strip attached to the front of a gun type tool with kind of a hot glue gun trigger on it. You inserted the strip into the lock, pulled the trigger, and the device made an audible snap like the breaking of a popsicle stick, then you turned the whole thing quickly like you would a key to unlock most door type locks. However, if you were too slow in turning the thing, the lock stayed locked. It was a noise risk, but it was nothing like kicking a door in, or firing a weapon.

This door knob unlocked easily enough, so he tried the door again, the deadbolt was locked... So he used the gun to open that next. That one took a few tries. He was sweating, but so far so good, no indication they had been heard, not that that actually meant they were free and clear. This could easily turn into an ambush, and rightly so. How would you feel in this world if someone was breaking into your fortress of solitude no matter how good their intentions? He softly tried the door again and it opened a few inches before he stopped. They were in luck this time, there was no barricade he could see, and no holes magically appeared in the door, or frame, at about chest high either. The place was tomb quiet, it made him nervous. The door opened into a living room, a dining room was separate on the left, a kitchen could be seen behind a breakfast bar type thing beyond that.

What they could see was clear of threats, but there was obviously someone living in here, they moved in fast and quiet, covering each other, and each point, as they did so. Two of the team made their way towards the kitchen, he and the other two men moved deeper into the house. They were headed down a short hall towards the back of the home when they heard noises coming from behind a door in the back right corner of the house. That was the only closed door, the rest were open revealing a bathroom and two small empty bedrooms to the left side of the house. A quick sweep of those showed they were empty.

The closed door must be the master bedroom he thought. He could hear noises from behind the door and a male voice speaking softly, but he couldn’t make anything out. Then he heard a muffled slap, a feminine sounding yelp, and what sounded like someone struggling. He heard a man’s laugh. He had seen enough of this shit by now that he knew whoever the guy in there was, he was first and foremost, an asshole. He indicated one man would throw open the door, he was going to enter and hook right, the third man would enter and hook left. Both men then nodded and all three got ready.

The door was quickly thrown open, and he burst through going low and sweeping the room, the other two following. He saw a bed with a woman tied spread eagle to it, with a gag in her mouth, a shirtless man of about forty standing to the side of the bed straightened up and shouted “WHAT THE FUC..” and that was all he ever got to say. He immediately shot the man twice in the chest and yelled “CLEAR.” The other two men yelled “CLEAR” as well and he made his way towards the woman.

She was tied to the bed with ropes around her wrists and ankles, she was topless, wearing only skimpy panties, and fear was clearly evident in her face. She was screaming and crying against the bandanna gag in her mouth, shaking her head back and forth rapidly, and struggling to get away. He moved closer and said “You’re ok now, nobody is going to hurt you.” He quickly untied her and she untied the bandanna over her mouth, spitting out another that was balled up in her mouth. She leapt off the bed to the man he had shot and cradled his head in her lap, crying and screaming “NOOOOOOOOOO!” at the top of her lungs.

She looked up at him from her kneeling position with tears streaming from her eyes, and screamed at him “WHY DID YOU SHOOT MY HUSBAND?”

He really hated this job.
Last edited by Spazzy on Tue Jun 10, 2014 6:50 am, edited 1 time in total.
Overheard at my USN retirement ceremony....
"So he's not a team player then?"
"You mean Spazz...? Hes not even a fan of the team."

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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by 91Eunozs » Wed May 07, 2014 4:38 pm

Wowzers... :shock:

I guess folks still do what they're gonna do...end of teh world or not!

Wall of words aside, very nicely done... Thanks!
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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by Spazzy » Thu May 08, 2014 11:43 am

91Eunozs wrote:Wowzers... :shock:

I guess folks still do what they're gonna do...end of teh world or not!

Wall of words aside, very nicely done... Thanks!

Yeah I was thinking I could have broken it down more as well, problem was that I was *cough* at work and it was 5 min before the end of my shift when I posted it...
:oops:

LOL
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"So he's not a team player then?"
"You mean Spazz...? Hes not even a fan of the team."

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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by Groucho » Fri May 16, 2014 10:23 pm

Nice. I didn't see either ending coming.
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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by Spazzy » Mon Jun 09, 2014 1:43 pm

He had been at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park when things went horribly wrong. People started screaming, running everywhere, all to get away from those things that looked like people but smelled like death. Things that only wanted to tear you to pieces and then eat those pieces. Pens were broken both into and out of in the chaos caused by those things, doors broken, fences knocked flat, gates torn asunder.

He was scared out of his mind by the sheer horror of it all. The dead things attacking anything living, both people and animals running, flying, climbing, anything to get away. He heard the trumpet of one of the big matriarch elephants as it charged a mass of the things defending its herd. He heard the crash into the fence, saw bodies go flying for yards through the air, heard the pained trumpeting bugle as the huge herd leader went down and still tried to fight as it was being feasted on alive.

He had never seen or heard anything like that in his whole life and had done the same thing everyone else that witnessed the scene did, he had run. He ran and left all the others he had been with behind as he heard some of them torn apart, their screams of pain mingled with the moaning horrific sounds those dead-but-not-dead things made.

He had run through a broken open gate and headed off into the park-like setting the city maintained around the zoo. He watched warily as suddenly from behind him burst three of the lions from the zoo mingled in with five zebra and a single giraffe, all of them seemed beyond caring that they were running together as a strange herd. They all seemed only concerned with running as fast as they could from the terror of the moment, maybe they thought even their mixed company was safer than what they were running from. He hoped the lions would attack one of the zebra instead of him, if they suddenly got the urge. They all veered off to his left as they went past him and he just kept running himself.

The parking lot was not an option as it swarmed with undead, all of them seemed hell bent on getting to the feast in the zoo he had just run from. The screams of the dying implied there was great eating to be had inside the zoo. He headed towards the trees and ball fields of the park, away from the parking lot, main gate, and judging from the noise he could still hear, the apparent feeding frenzy in that area.

He had run blindly, not caring where he was headed to in his haste to leave. Two hours later he found himself in a suburban neighborhood he had never been in before. Passing houses whose occupants only watched from behind curtains that twitched slightly as he went by. He was exhausted, he was ravenously thirsty, and as he passed one home he heard water splashing. He altered his route to see what it was and if he could drink from it, he found a hose where someone had been watering plants. He saw nobody there now, but saw and smelled a bright wash of blood a few feet from where the hose had come to rest, still gushing water down the lawn into the street. His thirst overrode his caution, he slowly made his way to the hose to get a drink but remained extremely vigilant for any signs of the undead.

He was reveling in the taste of the cool water, it was so cold and refreshing, he took the largest swallows he could to alleviate his thirst. Out of nowhere something grabbed his foot from behind. It startled him to no end as it tried to bite through the tough leather he was wearing. It was over half eaten and could not maintain any leverage, it had crawled from under the car in the driveway to get to him. Scared, he snatched his foot away from the thing that had him. He then angrily raised his foot and repeatedly stomped its head in. He ran again when he saw more of them come from around the car heading to him and the noise he had made. These things were terrifying, and he would readily admit he was easily startled.

He ran again for what seemed to him like forever. Avoiding all other living or undead things in his path. Once a car came screeching around a corner of the road up ahead and saw him running in the middle of the road as fast as he could go. He saw the drivers eyes get as wide as dinner plates as he swerved to avoid hitting and possibly killing him. He heard the car crash into another car on the side of the street behind him but he just kept running. He never even looked back to see what happened, never mind stopping, he was that spooked by everything going on.

He cut through a yard when the road was blocked by a car on fire. He was halfway through the backyard when he saw a garden with tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, all kinds of fresh produce growing. He slowed to a walk, nervously looking around, listening, straining to sense any of the undead, or any others, nearby. After all, he did see those lions earlier, who knew what else was out here? But he was very hungry and tired, he needed to eat and rest or there was no way he would be able to keep this up. He slowly made his way to the garden, and started to eat some tomatoes.

He awoke with a start when he heard a bang in the distance. It could have been a gunshot, it could have been a car hitting something, it could be a tree branch breaking for all he knew. All he knew was that he had fallen asleep right there in the middle of the garden. Other than the noise, nothing seemed amiss. He must have slept for hours, it had been near dusk when he stopped and was just after dawn now. He felt thirsty and hungry again so he ate some more tomatoes, both for the food and the juice in them. The whole time keeping his eyes and ears open for any indication danger might be nearby. He wished he knew where the others he was with at the zoo were, but he had always been a loner and if he was alone for now that was fine, he thought. He relieved himself on the edge of the garden and decided to move on.

Walking through backyards instead of the middle of the road seemed to put him more at ease. Plus there was more water available, stopping to drink from whatever was there. Hunger could be dealt with, but when you were thirsty you needed to get water soon, lack of water would kill you.

He made his way aimlessly, no specific plan or place to go. He didn't know what to do in this type situation, he had never come across anything like this ever.

A dog challenged him in its yard once, he stomped one foot to attempt to shoo it away quietly. It did not come near him, it was a small dog, not very aggressive but more of a loudmouth type. It would not shut up, so he left quickly and headed away before it alerted anything in the area a free lunch was wandering around. If the dog wanted to be eaten that was its problem, not his.

The suburban area was giving way to more and more of an urban type landscape. He did not like this at all, he wished he was back in the park where things seemed a lot less dangerous. He was forced back into the street by heavy duty fences with razor wire. He did not like being this exposed at all.

Lots of cars and smelly bodies were everywhere now. He was headed deeper into the city looking for a safer place to be. There was no food or water to be had, and he would be damned if he was going into any of these buildings looking for it.

He was lost, disoriented, tired, hungry, thirsty, and getting more than a little irritated with all of this. That was when he heard them. Coming up the street in front of him. A large herd of those things. He turned in a panic, only to see more of them behind him. He had nowhere to go except forward or back. Through them. He had had enough of this shit. He heard the ones from the first larger group moaning loudly when they saw him before the second smaller group.

So be it.

He turned back towards the first group, and he roared a challenge. If he was going to die he would do it on his terms.

They moaned back an awful counterpoint to his yell and they surged forward.

Mad as hell, he charged. He would show them. He would make an accounting of himself.

In a window on the third story of a typical apartment building, two sets of ears had heard first the primal roar, and then the answering moans. The curtains opened. And two sets of eyes silently watched the huge white rhino charge into the undead scattering them like bowling pins.

"Did you see THAT mommy?!?!?" Said a timid five year old voice.

"Yes I did baby."

"Is he going to beat all the monsters mommy?"

"Let's hope so."

Then they both softly started cheering for the rhino, as the fight raged on in the street below.
Overheard at my USN retirement ceremony....
"So he's not a team player then?"
"You mean Spazz...? Hes not even a fan of the team."

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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by DAVE KI » Mon Jun 09, 2014 3:27 pm

Wow a White Rhino, now that I did not see coming at all.Hoped it wouldn't be left in the air how(he) got out of it. That was great!
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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by Groucho » Mon Jun 09, 2014 7:53 pm

Doah! You got me again. I'll be ready next time. Good job.
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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by Halfapint » Mon Jun 09, 2014 8:33 pm

Just wanted to give some encouragement! I read the first few lines and so far I like it don't have time to read it all but I'm excited already!!!!!!!
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Re: Help yourself... or don't.

Post by Spazzy » Tue Jun 10, 2014 6:14 am

Thanks guys! I really do appreciate the feedback! Are the twists at the end a bit of overkill or do they work well?

I thought of this angle about two days ago and it was floating around in the quagmire I call a brain trying different situations and scenarios, I wanted the character to be female with a daughter in tow but just could not pull it off with my "no speaking" style, it just wouldn't work. Originally it was going to be two men on a roof with rifles watching the epicness, possibly even assisting, but I liked it better this way.

On a side note I did get a tad too attached to the character, so I left the ending as I did rather than finish it. :ohdear:
Overheard at my USN retirement ceremony....
"So he's not a team player then?"
"You mean Spazz...? Hes not even a fan of the team."

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