zombies

The lieutenant did not like the look of the setting sun. Darkness meant only one thing to him, they'd be back. Gazing over the sandbag blockade, he saw the bodies were still out there. The plague victims who had attacked the night before were still lying in eerie and gruesome poses of a second death.

The houses in this neighborhood were typical American homes but the ravages of plague and disease took their toll. The houses themselves looked sick, windows were boarded up and the walls and streets were riddled with bullet holes and bodies of the dead. Pools of blood stained the streets.

The lieutenant lit a cigarette. He never smoked before joining the national guard and it had been in this latest crisis that he'd taken up the disgusting habit. He puffed. There was something about this plague that scared him and drove its victims insane. It somehow reanimated them after it killed them. And it spread from town to town. Hundreds of thousands had died already. The lieutenant did not care to know how many more were to follow.

"Lieutenant, come have a look at this," the captain called out.
"Yes sir," the lieutenant came over.
"A reconnaissance satellite took an infrared shot of our neighborhood here," the captain pointed. Most of it was dark, except for one small, red-orange figure. "As you can see, they found something."
The lieutenant threw away his cigarette. "Looks like an infant. . . how can we tell its not infected?"
"The victims don't give off a heat signature, since they're, well, dead." the captain answered. "in 30 minutes, 2 fighter bombers are going to incinerate this neighborhood and I can't call them off"
"Well, in that case, I'm going in sir." The lieutenant picked up his rifle and a few spare rounds. "I'll bring the child back or not at all." He gestured at a sergeant, "I'd like to take him along sir."
The captain replied "Alright, be careful though."

The lieutenant jumped over the barricade into the danger zone and the sergeant followed. They ran from cover to cover down the abandoned streets, past abandoned cars and swing sets. It was a surreal sight, a neighborhood with no people. The sun was setting.

The doors of one house open and a plague victim came out and shambled towards the pair. The lieutenant fired a shot, hitting the man in the chest. The shot should have killed him, but he mindlessly continued at them. The sergeant and the lieutenant opened fire, ripping the man to pieces with bullets of mercy before the man was stopped. The man's guts and body parts were spread about in a mix of blood and slime.

They moved on and found the house. The lieutenant kicked down the door and entered. Inside was a typical suburban home, two floors, with a stairwell going up. And a host of zombies. The creatures saw them and turned on them. They were in the darkness of the house where the sun did not slow them down and they came at them quickly. The lieutenant and the sergeant moved up the stairs and opened fire on the zombies.

"Reloading! Cover me!" the sergeant cried as he placed a new magazine in his rifle. But then a zombie attacked, knocking the sergeant over and biting a large chunk out of the man's neck. The lieutenant blew off the zombies head. The creature tumbled down the stairs.

The sergeant was turning pale and he was shaking. Then he suddenly jumped on the lieutenant. The lieutenant smacked him with the butt of his rifle. The sergeant was gone, the lieutenant knew. He was one of them. Out of mercy and grief, the lieutenant put a few bullets in the sergeant until the sergeant stopped moving.

All was clear. The zombies were defeated, for now. But now the lieutenant was alone. He checked his rifle and reloaded. He had a few magazines left. He moved on and found the room easily; the baby was crying in all the commotion. The lieutenant picked up the baby and carried him out of the house. The sun had gone down even further. He checked his watch. Five more minutes before the bombers showed up. He set off into a run.

And as if an alarm bell had gone off, all the doors of the houses opened and zombies came out. The lieutenant picked up his pace but the zombies followed. With the baby in his hand, the rifle was useless. He dropped it. He tossed a grenade. It blew apart the front ranks, but more followed. They were faster than he, but he saw the national guard barricade up ahead several hundred yards. He set off into a sprint. His chest hurt but he ignored it. Something grabbed his leg and he fell over.

The baby was crying even harder now, dropped on the grassy suburban lawn. The lieutenant kicked the zombie off his leg. The zombie bit down on him. He screamed. He could see the captain, who was shooting at the zombies behind him. The lieutenant got up and ran to the barricade. He handed the baby to the lieutenant. And then feeling the plague go through him, he pulled out his desert eagle and shot himself.

The captain watched the lieutenant die in horror, but the baby, although hurt, was fine. But the zombies were coming. His men opened up on the machine guns. There was a roar of jets and bombs were let loose and the neighborhood beyond the barricade was annihilated with fire. The remaining zombies were cut down by the withering fire of the fifty caliber machine guns.


Kind of a gruesome story but it is based on a dream I had.