The Dead in River City (10 page)

17

Alan helped Kendra get back on her feet. The smoke
had cleared, and there was no one else to be found in the room, save for the
corpse of Robert Vaughan. Alan and Kendra were both distraught at his loss, but
they could allow themselves no time to mourn. Their heavy breathing was the
only sound still in the room.

“Grab all the weapons you can.” Kendra broke the
silence. “It’s time we took the war to the Dead Ones.”

Alan was already way ahead of her. He darted all
around the room, looking for anything destructive. He found multiple pistols
around the room, and split them into two groups: one for Kendra, and one for
himself. With Kendra only having one useable arm, she would need as many
pistols as she could carry. Alan found a shotgun for himself. It was
double-barreled and looked like it could pack a punch. It would be a perfect
zombie-killing tool.

Alan attached as many holsters as he could find to
himself, and began to fill them with the pistols he’d gathered. He found
holsters for Kendra, loaded them, and helped put them on her. She might not
ever admit it out loud, but she enjoyed him fitting all the holsters onto her.
Having his undivided attention was nice. She trusted him more each day, and
now, she wouldn’t trade his company for anything.

Alan then fitted the shotgun on his back. “Anything
else you think might be useful?” He asked Kendra, seeing if she saw something
he missed.

“Ummmm. Have you found any grenades or explosives?”

“Let me see.” Alan scanned the room for anything
that might go boom. He located a few grenades, but they were crudely made,
definitely not military grade. “I found these, but nothing else.”

“They’ll have to do. Give them to me. I still have
one good arm.” She instructed him.

He handed the grenades to her. “About time we got
down there. They need all the help they can get.”

“Right. We should go.”

The air felt almost static, like a field of energy
had been created between them. Almost simultaneously, they leaned in to kiss
each other. They knew that one or both of them might not come back. Neither one
of them wanted to join the fight without what could be a last kiss. The kiss
lasted for only a few moments, but those few moments were filled with passion
and care. They highly enjoyed kissing each other, and even in the midst of a
zombie invasion, they were happy.

The kiss finally broke, and they both drew the
revolvers that Mr. Vaughan had gifted them. The Dead Ones were gaining ground,
and there was no time to lose. Alan and Kendra worked their way down the
stairs. There were fewer people in the stairwell now, but the crowd was still
sizeable. It took awhile for them to push through the mass of people and reach
the ground floor.

By the time they had reached the ground floor, the
Dead Ones had already breached the front doors of Refuge. While there were
still many people fighting, a great number of them had fallen. Many were on
their way to becoming on of the Dead Ones, and others had killed themselves,
knowing precisely what would happen if they hadn’t. It was becoming evident
that this wasn’t a fight that they could win. They were simply holding off the
inevitable.

Wasting no time, Alan a Kendra began firing their
new revolvers into the horde. The heads of the nearest Dead Ones exploded into
a mist of gore the hue of their discolored blood. In a flash, their guns were
empty. They holstered the revolvers and switched over to other weapons. Kendra
grabbed the next gun on her waist and started to fire. Alan reached for his
shotgun and joined Kendra in slaughtering the undead.

The fight had been going well. The people of Refuge
fought well, even as their ranks thinned by the minute. Alan and Kendra were
some of the most experience killers of the undead that now resided in Refuge.
They led the defense and were holding their own more than expected. The air
became thick with gun smoke, and the noise of the firearms was deafening.

Kendra was draining her pistols of ammunition every
second. As a pistol would empty, she would throw it at one of the shambling
corpses in an attempt to slow it down. At this rate, she’d be out of pistols in
mere minutes. Alan’s shotgun was running low on ammo as well, and the horde of
Dead Ones looked as though it had grown no thinner. They’d held their own this
long, but things were looking grim. Without a plan, they wouldn’t survive the
next hour.

The Dead Ones kept flowing into the door, and the
people of Refuge couldn’t hold up their defenses any longer. They were about to
be overrun. Kendra emptied her last firearm and chucked it at the closest
zombie. She remembered the crude grenades that Alan had found, and she hatched
a last-ditch plan to buy them some time.

“Everyone back!” She yelled out.

The citizens of Refuge didn’t give it a second
thought. They retreated in an instant. Only Alan stayed where he was standing,
refusing to leave Kendra.

“Alan, go!” She yelled to him.

“No! I won’t leave you!” He yelled back.

“I have a plan! Just stand back!” She insisted.

Alan knew there was no arguing with her. He simply
did as she asked and stepped back. All he could do now was hope that she knew
what she was doing, and pray that she would be safe. Kendra readied her
grenades, and took a deep breath as the Dead Ones inched ever closer.

Kendra tossed the first grenade in front of her. It
hit the floor and slid into the crowd of Dead Ones. Seconds later, the grenade
erupted in a storm of shrapnel, dismembering a sizeable amount of the crowd of
corpses. She had 2 crude grenades left, and she hoped her plan would work. She
tossed the remaining 2 grenades in quick succession at the door of the tower.
It was already damaged, and she hoped this would finish its destruction.

The grenades exploded and the door of Refuge began
to break and collapse. A cloud of dust and smoke formed in the room, and by the
time it had cleared, there was no longer a door to Refuge. The door was now
nothing more than a pile of rubble. The horde of Dead Ones was now trapped
outside, and the survivors were trapped inside.

Kendra smirked, realizing that her plan had actually
worked. She had saved Refuge, even if only temporarily. She was so elated with
the success of her plan that she never heard anyone behind her.

“LOOK OUT!” Alan shouted out to her. He was,
regrettably, too late to warn her.

Kendra screamed out in pain as she felt the teeth
sink into her flesh. The skin was broken and she began to bleed from her arm.
She looked to see a Dead One, still animated, driving its teeth down into the
flesh of her right arm. Her face turned to horror, knowing that she was
infected. She knew that she would turn into one of those walking horrors.
Although she didn’t know it, she’d begun to cry, thinking only of losing the
only person she truly cared for.

Alan brandished one of his pistols and unloaded into
the Dead One. He emptied the entire 13-shot clip into the corpse, shredding the
head and killing the undead creature. Alan rushed forward to Kendra, catching
her as she dropped to her knees. He examined the wound and knew, just as she
did, that she was doomed to become one of those abominations. Alan wanted to
comfort her, but he knew there was no real way to do so. Instead, he just
kissed her forehead and held her.

The room fell silent, and the survivors looked on,
saddened that another of them was infected. Suddenly the silence was broken by
the sound of a slow clap. Malcolm entered the room, applauding, seemingly happy
about the chain of events.

“Kendra, that was a brilliant plan.” He spoke,
complimenting her. “However, I couldn’t allow you to go unpunished. I brought a
Dead One to me and commanded it to attack you. You may have won the battle, but
at what cost?”

Alan drew his revolver, pointing it right at
Malcolm’s face. “Fix her, NOW!” He spoke with unbound fury.

“I know that revolver is empty, Alan. Don’t take me
for a fool.” He replied. “Kendra will turn, then I will force her to turn you,
Alan.”

Alan was at a loss. He knew he could do nothing to
save her or attack Malcolm without making the situation worse. He simply stayed
close to Kendra, refusing to leave her side. It was then that the tables turned
without warning. Malcolm was knocked to the floor. Over him, stood Luke Jones,
the man who had given Alan information on Malcolm. Luke stood over him, and
pinned him to the floor with his foot.

“Luke?” Alan said in disbelief.

“No need to thank me, Alan. I was happy to slug this
piece of scum. He’s all yours.” He replied, as he kicked Malcolm in the head,
forcing him to pass out.

Alan stood and picked up Malcolm’s dead weight, and
proceeded to carry him back upstairs. “Come on Kendra, we’re going to fix
this.”

“Where are we going?” She asked, rising up onto her
feet.

“We’re going to interrogate Malcolm, find a cure,
and then kill the bastard.” Alan replied, full of anger.

He carried Malcolm all the way up the stairs to the
15
^th
floor, where the weapons were all kept. There, he tied him to a
chair and gathered some weapons to use as torture tools. He was going to make
him fix Kendra’s infection, no matter the cost.

Kendra followed him up, feeling sick and drowsy. By
her guess, she had a day at most before she became one of the dead.

18

Alan brought his fist down hard on the side of
Malcolm’s face. “Wake up, maggot.” He said scornfully.

Malcolm opened his eyes, his vision blurred. “Is all
that really necessary?” He asked, groggily.

Alan gave no response. He simply readied his
improvised torture tools, and prepared to begin his interrogation. He would
make Malcolm talk, he would find a way to save Kendra, and then he would end
Malcolm’s existence without a second thought. Alan had come very far in the
past weeks. He knew he was fully capable of murdering this man. Truthfully, he
thought he would even enjoy it.

“Tell me how to cure her, Malcolm.” Alan said, not
even looking at him.

“What makes you think she can be cured?” He replied.

“Call it a hunch.” He said, sharpening two knives
against each other.

“That supposed to scare me?” Malcolm asked with a
smirk.

Alan shot him a look. “I don’t expect to scare you.”
He said, stepping towards Malcolm. “I expect to break you.”

Alan drove a knife into Malcolm’s left arm. He
screamed in pain as the knife ripped through his flesh. A stream of blood
flowed down his arm, and the blood stained the iron blade jammed into his limb.
Malcolm couldn’t move his arm, and the knife had been driven all the way
through, jutting out the other side of his arm.

“Feel like talking now?” Alan asked.

Malcolm breathed heavily. “Piss off, boy”

Alan didn’t like that one bit. Without warning, he
took a second knife and jammed it into Malcolm’s right leg. He howled in pain,
screaming and cursing in a language that Alan didn’t understand.

“Oh, so you are foreign.” Alan spoke, just before
giving him a backhanded smack to the face. “Talk, now!” He roared.

Kendra looked on. She wasn’t feeling well, but tried
to ignore it as best she could. She was glad that Alan captured Malcolm, and
that he was trying to find a way to cure her, but she didn’t like seeing him
like this. His rage, his fury, it was scary. It almost reminded her of her
father when he got angry. Tears welled up at the thought, but she tried to
focus on the important thing. Alan was trying to help.

Malcolm’s breathing was getting heavier. “Yes… I am
foreign…” He took another deep breath. “What… of it?”

“I can’t quite identify the accent or language. I’m
curious to know where you’re from. What information we found on you sheds no
light on your origins.” Alan said. “You can tell me where you come from… or I
can drive more knives into your waste of a body. Your choice.”

Malcolm pondered this for a moment before speaking
again. “The accent and language you hear are from a small country outside
Russia. It’s a local dialect that makes it somewhat more difficult to
identify.”

“Russia…” Alan said. “The same Russia that bombed us
and created this living nightmare?”

“Is there any other?” Malcolm quipped.

Alan picked up a rope from the table and began to
tie the end of it into a crude monkey’s fist. “You were a scientist of some
kind, yes?”

“I was. What of it?”

“The kind of scientist that could help create bio
weapons?” Alan pushed his interrogation further.

“I’m not inclined to answer that question.” Malcolm
replied.

Alan, having finished the knot on the end of the
rope, swiftly turned and swung the rope at him, with the monkey’s fist hitting
him in the side. Malcolm’s reaction would have been much louder had he not had
his breath knocked out of him.

“Feeling inclined yet?” Alan said, his voice still
dripping with anger.

“Fine…” Malcolm said, regaining his breath. “I grew
up as a scientist in Russia, developing weapons. Happy now?”

“Far from it. Tell me, Graves… is this all your
fault? Did you create X7?”

Malcolm said nothing, prompting Alan’s rage to
bubble to the surface. “Tell me now, you bastard!” He roared. “DID. YOU.
CREATE. IT?” Alan threw punches at his face between each word, and Malcolm’s
face was sure to bruise and bleed with further punishment.

Malcolm was in agony. Alan was hurting him bad, but
a part of him couldn’t help but laugh. He found Alan’s rage humorous, but at
the same time, he knew he couldn’t survive this much longer. He was cut off
from his horde for the moment. There was only one way to stop the torture.

“Yes. I created X7.”

Alan moved like lightning. He grabbed a gun from the
table and held the muzzle to Malcolm’s head. “You’re going to tell me the
everything, or you’re going to get this entire clip of bullets right between
the eyes.” He spoke in a more demanding tone than he had ever conjured up
before.

Malcolm sighed before beginning his story. “Years
ago, I was contacted by the Russian government. They wanted me to help develop
new weapons of warfare. They were specifically looking for chemical weapons.
They paid me a substantial amount of money to create a chemical weapon that
would cripple America. In the years that followed, I created my X-Series of
chemical weapons.”

“There’s more than just the one?” Alan interrupted.

“Why’d you think it’s called X7?” Malcolm asked.

“Just keep talking.” Alan commanded.

Malcolm did just that. “The first 6 attempts at a
devastating chemical ended in failure. I was beginning to think it was
impossible, and the government officials were breathing down my neck. It was then
that I found my golden goose, as it were. I synthesized a stable chemical that
wreaked havoc on the human body. I began testing it before I told my
benefactors about it. In my experiments, I learned the most extraordinary
thing.”

“What? That your chemical turns the living into the
undead?”

“Precisely.”

Malcolm continued before Alan could speak again. “X7
was almost magical. It could deform the body, make organs shut down, and could
easily be dispersed through aerial bombing. The curious part was that it never
killed the brain. It reduced it to nothing more than an engine for the body,
keeping it moving, but reducing itself to nothing more than a primal instinct.
The infected people were driven to infect the still living through biting them.
By sheer accident, I had created functional zombies. It occurred to me that I
could devastate America, and perhaps even the world.”

“So that’s it? That’s how we got into this
situation?” Alan asked, pressing the muzzle of the gun against Malcolm’s
forehead.

“Well there’s still my little secret about
controlling the zombies.” Malcolm began the final part of his story. “Once I
had finalized X7, I dared not tell my employers until I had a way to capitalize
on it. I secretly began developing an extension of X7. I created a substance
that held sway over the functionality of X7. In essence, I made something that
controls anything infected with X7. I can’t control anyone only partially
converted, like Kendra, but anyone who has become one of the Dead Ones is fully
susceptible to my control.”

“Very interesting.” Alan said, completely deadpan.
“One more thing. TELL ME HOW TO FIX HER, NOW!” Alan roared out.

“You won’t fix her.” Malcolm laughed like some kind
of psychotic, deranged clown. “The X7 will be working its way through the blood
very soon. You cannot save her.”

Alan cried tears of rage. His anger reached new
heights, and without warning, he pistol-whipped Malcolm across the face,
knocking him out again. He turned to Kendra, who stood near the entrance of the
room. Next to her stood Luke Jones, who had been watching Alan’s interrogation.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Alan apologized to
Kendra. “I just couldn’t handle the thought of you becoming one of those
monsters. I’ve never felt so much rage.”

Kendra wrapped her arms around Alan. “It’s ok. I
probably would’ve felt the same in that situation. Kendra began to cry, wishing
this embrace could last forever. She was slowly realizing the reality of the
situation. She was going to die.

Alan held her close, wishing there was something he
could do to save her. Malcolm had said there was no way to save her. Once the
chemical began to work its way through her system, it would destroy her, and
turn her into another walking corpse. Alan scraped over those thoughts in his
mind, and suddenly, his eyes widened.

“Luke, go down to the medical bay and tell them they
have an incoming patient. Go! Quick!” He instructed Luke.

Luke didn’t question it, and he began to run all the
way to the medical bay, carrying Alan’s message. Alan grabbed Kendra’s hand,
and spoke. “We have to run, now.”

“What’s going on?” She asked as they began a mad
dash to the medical bay.

“I have an idea. I think I can save you.”