Zombie Revolution Read online

  There were two other marines standing on each side of the stone staircase leading up to the church. Damon clung onto Chloe as they were pushed up the stairs. “What is going on?” Damon questioned. “What do you want with us?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  The four marines saluted each other as Damon passed. The heavy wooden doors groaned and creaked as they swung wide open on corroded hinges. Once inside Damon studied every inch of the medieval style architecture. Thick wooden beams supported the vaulted ceiling. Iron chandeliers were suspended from the beams near each pillar. The light bulbs in the chandeliers no longer radiated with light but sat in darkness and spider webs. He squinted his eyes in the dim light to see large wooden pillars rise to meet the high ceiling. Candles stuck in iron torch braziers that lined the outer aisles lit the church’s interior making it hard to find anything that resembled an exit. Hollow echoes filled the nave when their steps hit the wooden planks. They were led down the aisle to the polish wood altar. In front of Damon there was yet another marine. He was a tall man with dark eyes dressed in a uniform decorated with medals. He had deep red scare down his right cheek. The length of his hog-like nose looked somewhat misshaped from being broken one too many times. The marine’s barrel chest puffed up when Damon and Chloe were pushed closer. “I see you found your way into our sleepy little town.” He hissed. Damon could smell his stale breath from the first pew.

  “We were just passing through.” Damon was trying to understand what was going on. He had no idea what was going to happen, but he knew it couldn’t be good coming from this guy. They had to get out...and now. He was very aware of everybody at that moment in time. He made special effort to know how many marines were in the church. The General stood at the center of the altar with a marine on either side. The group leader was standing behind Damon and Chloe with the bloody faced Jackson adjacent to him and another by Chloe.

  “That’s what they all say.” The General stated. He picked his yellowing teeth with his index finger and spitting the contents of what he found on the floor. Not making eye contact with them.

  Damon remembered all the bodies in the streets. Not all of them were zombies? “Others…there were others?”

  The General ignored his question. “How long have you worked with the terrorists?” “Terrorists? You’ve got to be joking!” “You think this is a game?” He was angry now. “Tell me what you know!” His voice exploded in the church. His eyes met Damon’s. That was when he noticed the cold and darkness in them…the murder.

  “This is crazy! We’re just going to see if my brother’s still alive.”

  “Everyone is dead.” The General smirked. “Except us of course.” The leader of the group spoke up from behind Damon and Chloe. “Maybe Sir, they don’t know anything after all. We discovered them trying to find another car after we made them crash their first one.” Damon made a mental note of what the man said. He might actually have a friend amongst the crazies.

  “Speak when spoken to Master Sergeant.” He snapped. It was apparent to Damon that the General had gone mad with power after everyone started eating each other. It was his chance to take over. Damon looked at the other marines. One marine on the right looked at Damon with a degree of sadness. He noticed it was one of the marines that were in the group that captured them. His blond hair was plastered to his head from sweat. Damon made eye contact with him. The marine standing was taller than most of the marines in the room, probably about six three. He stared down his long skinny nose with bright blue eyes. Damon noticed that his face drooped a little when he saw Chloe, like he knew something bad was going to happen to her. He snapped his head up before anyone else noticed. The mechanic’s connection with the marine was broken. “How can you follow this guy? We are fighting zombies. Not people.” He could feel Chloe shaking next to him.

  “Silence!”

  Damon refused. “This is madness!”

  “Maybe you will change your mind after you spend some more time with us.” He looked at Chloe with disgust. “Alone.” Chloe grabbed onto the Damon’s waist harder, and he put a protective arm around her. “You won’t touch her!” That was the last thing Damon remembered. Jackson hit Damon on the back of his head with the butt of the rifle. Damon’s vision faded to black just as a marine grabbed the kicking and screaming Chloe. Her dragging heels disappeared around the corner. Then there was nothing but hazy blackness.

  Damon awoke with a hundred jackhammers pounding in his head. He was lying on the wood floor of a small room. The air smelled like his grandmother’s house, a mix of old perfume and dust. It was incredibly hot, and there was no air circulation inside the room either. Since there were no windows in the room, and the only light in the room was leaking from under the door Damon had to blink his eyes allowing them to adjust. Slowly, he rose. His legs were Jell-O underneath him, and he almost collapsed. Glimmering specks of dust floated in front of Damon’s eyes as he studied his surroundings. There was a small wooden chair in the far corner of the room and that was it. No bed. No closet. No way out. “Where the hell are we?” He whispered. The only answer he received was the creaking wood under his boots. Panic gripped him when he noticed that Chloe was missing. “CHLOE!” He bellowed in the tiny room. They had taken her; his only companion since the world died. He looked at the door, and in that moment he was a raging bull. He hit the door with such force that the room shook, but the door remained intact. “YOU GIVE HER BACK TO ME!” He hit the door with his fist. His injured shoulder seared in pain with every powerful blow.

  Silence.

  “YOU BETTER NOT HURT HER!”

  Silence. Damon continued to rage but received no response. He lost track of the time, which was easy to do in the dark room. He did not know how much time had gone by since he was knocked unconscious. Whether it was day or night, he could not be sure. Damon collapsed with his back against the door after his final unsuccessful attempt to bring it down and let his body slide down to the floor. He held his shoulder wishing he was stronger. Wishing he never turned the truck into Vail. Sorry any of this happened. In that moment he was going to feel sorry for himself, not that anyone gave a shit.

  At that same moment two rooms down Chloe pounded on the locked door to her room relentlessly with her tiny hands. She watched the marines drag Damon’s unconscious body up the stairs before they threw her into a dark room of her own. She took notice that there were no windows, and the only way out was the locked door in front of her. In the corner was a twin size mattress thrown on a rusty frame. Before the zombies came she was afraid of the dark. Now, it seemed that fear disappeared. She figured it was because there was much more to be afraid of with zombies and crazed marines out running the streets. “LET ME OUTTA HERE YOU BUNCH OF BUTTHEADS!” She never slowed down on the insults, but like Damon she got silence as an answer.

  The longer she was in the room, the more she wanted to be with Damon. She felt so alone at that moment. It was like being back at the gas station in McPherson when she lost her parents. The room was nearly the same size as the gas station bathroom. Chloe collapsed on the dusty bed and cried. Tears ran freely down her dirt stained face. The darkness caved in around her, suffocating her. Every breath was labored as she felt the fear constricting her chest tighter. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to conjure up some happy memories from a time before zombies. She remembered when her father taught her how to ride her brand new pink bike. He had just taken the training wheels off. She just turned five. The bright sun made the sparkles in the paint glitter like a million stars in the night sky. She remembered how the wind felt in her hair, how the tiny hairs on her head tickled her face. Her dad’s bright green eyes sparkled while he smiled down at her. The vise released her rib cage, and she was able to take deep soothing breaths. It was not long before the pre-teen was sound asleep.

  Days passed and nobody came to either Damon’s or Chloe’s room. Damon paced the perimeter of the room like a madman. Hunger tore at his stomach. The rumble in his abdomen w
as so intense at times he thought the dead could probably hear. Every now and again Damon would hear footsteps and muffled voices. Damon could make out two marines talking to each other. He heard that the marine known as Jackson was just a crazy as the General, and the Sergeant wants to leave with a few others of the marines. “Let me help you.” He said quickly through the keyhole.

  The marine on the other side kicked the door causing Damon to fall back, but he did not give up. “Just let us go.”

  Footsteps echoed down the hallway. They faded away.

  “LET US GO!” His fist hit the door. “YOU BASTARDS!” When Damon began the think that the marines had actually left them there to die because they thought him and Chloe were really working with the terrorists, the door opened. Damon threw his hand over his head as the bright light spilled into the tiny room as if the light was burning him. He was on his feet in two seconds but collapsed again. He was feeling the effects of not having enough to eat and dehydration. Damon looked up to see Private Jackson standing in the doorway. His face was cleaned up. A bandage was stuck to his right cheek and one across his nose. The swollen lumps on his temple had gone down, and his bruises were a greenish yellow color. Damon had done a number on him. He puffed his chest out a little further. “The General wants to see if you two have changed your minds.” He sneered.

  “Two..?” Damon perked up a little. His heart quickened. “Chloe’s still alive? Take me to her.” Jackson roughly ushered Damon out of the tiny room and down the brown paneled hallway. The marine ignored Damon’s question deliberately. Asshole. As they passed the second door on his left, Chloe jumped out of the dark doorway. She clung onto his waist, not letting go. Damon noticed her strength was failing. The trip had been rough on her. He was so happy that she was still alive that he could not hide his smile. He knew that he had to figure something out quickly or both of them would be dead.

  Jackson was joined by a short and stocky marine known as Mason. He remembered the jingle of the keys that hung at the marine’s belt. They led Damon and Chloe to the narrow staircase. After twisting farther and farther down, the group emerged into the main chamber of the church. Candles were arranged strategically around the church, which cast an extremely creepy mood over the entire area. He wouldn’t have been surprised it vampires popped out of the shadows. Dots of light peeked through the boarded up windows adding to the ambiance. An orb of light shone on Damon’s chest making him yearn to be outside even more. It was so close, but so far out of his reach. The General was leaning against the altar like he had been when Damon and Chloe first had the pleasure of meeting the mad general. The marines forced the two to sit in the first pew closet to the polished wooden altar. He sneered. “I am going to ask you only once more.” He leaned towards Damon and Chloe. “What do you know about the terrorists?” The General was only inches from Damon’s face. His breath reeked of alcohol and bad hygiene.

  Damon thought wildly. He already tried the truth with this guy, but that got them locked up. “The terrorists are gone, General.”

  “You lie.” He growled. “Everyone is gone. Except us.” Damon tried to get through to the General. He looked into the red streaked and hard eyes of the man in front of him and realized it was a losing battle.

  “Take them to the kill room.” The mad General’s face glowed in the amber candlelight. He looked truly frightening in that moment.

  The kill room did not need explanation. Damon tried to jump out of his seat at the General, but was immediately shoved from behind towards the room behind the altar. Chloe screamed as the marines pushed them into the room. Her high pitched scream cut through the stuffy church. The room was bigger than their rooms upstairs, but it was just as empty except for all the blood. Damon clung onto the little girl as if he could protect her from what was about to happen. He lashed out at the marines when they got too close. He received a vicious punch to his face. Damon tasted iron in his mouth and spat out the blood. “Please. Don’t kill the girl. She is just a kid.” He pleaded. “The General’s crazy! Leave here! And let us go!” He pleaded with the Sergeant who stood arms crossed in the back of the room. His eyes were dark and his face was grim.

  The marines closed the door. Their booted footsteps echoed in the empty room as they came up behind them. They forced Chloe and Damon to their knees. Chloe was sobbing now. She wanted her mom and dad. Damon was thinking about his wife and son. He would be with them soon. Damon hugged Chloe close. “I’m sorry I got you into this.” A tear fell from Damon’s eye. He felt the cold barrel of the M16 against his head. Damon closed his eyes and prepared himself for the next life. Time seemed to stop. Chloe’s sobs sounded so far away. He heard something, a faint pulsating beat. It was something other than the dull roar of his own heart. The marines hesitated. It was apparent that they did not agree with everything their leader was doing. The door to the kill room burst open. “They’re everywhere!” A marine shouted. Damon remembered the marine from the outside staircase.

  “What’s everywhere?” The Sergeant demanded.

  “Zombies! I don’t know where they came from but the church is surrounded. Cooper’s dead!” They had found him again. How do they always find him? Damon matched the sound like a lightning bolt to his brain. This time he was not so upset to hear them. Damon and Chloe followed the marines that were just about to kill them out of the room into the main chamber.

  “The zombies are breaking through!” Jackson hollered before disappearing somewhere in the church. “We have to get out of here!” The General was still sitting on the altar with his arms crossed like nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Crazy bastard!

  “Are the prisoners dead?” He questioned the frantic marine. He ignored the sound of splintering wood and gun shots. There was a loud thud against the solid oak door. The mob of zombies began their undead siege against the old church. “What? Forget the prisoners. Can’t you see what is happening?” The marine fired his weapon at a zombie that had broken through the wooden barrier stuck over the window. It fell back with a hole in its head.

  Mason went to cover the window. He let out a blood curdling scream as a zombie dressed in a tattered pinstriped suit threw itself through the splintered frame and grabbed a hold of his arm. The unarmed marine lost a chunk of flesh in the blink of an eye when the zombie dressed in a ski suit latched on for a hungry bite. The zombie’s head exploded the next second, but it was too late the damage had been done. The bitten marine stumbled back into a pew knocking over a candlestick onto the ground. He held onto the dripping wound. The General watched for a moment, and then heaved himself off the altar with a grunt. As he approached the injured marine, he unholstered his sidearm. “No...No...No.” He sputtered. Damon watched in horror at what happened next. The General raised his pistol and pulled the trigger without a word. The gunshot was masked by the chaos unfolding in the church. None but Damon and Chloe saw what just happened. The infected marine slumped in the wooden pew blood oozing from a single shot in the head.

  Damon and Chloe ducked behind one of the huge wooden pillars that stood behind the altar attempting to stay out of the General’s view. Damon pondered their next move. The Sergeant appeared at their side squatting to stay out of sight. His salt and pepper hair was covered in blood. “The only way out now is the roof.” Damon remembered the staircase. “We have a watch station up there. I think we can jump to the next building. It’s a long shot, but it has to work. There is no other way.” Damon was shocked at the unexpected ally. This bastard was going to kill them just a second ago. The Sergeant fired a shot and killed another zombie that had made it through the window. “Or we’re dead.” Then he was up and running along the backside of the church shouting at the marines as he ran. The smell of smoke filled Damon’s nose. The church was on fire now. Freaking fabulous!

  The two wasted no time. They were chasing the Sergeant along the wall pass the intricately carved tabernacle to the staircase. The Sergeant dropped two more zombies that were stumbling towards the group. Once on the stai
rcase, the Sergeant ordered the two up while he waited at the bottom. Damon watched the four remaining marines fight off the zombies as they climbed awkwardly through the broken windows. Damon noticed that the General had disappeared. Good Riddance. He could not count how many made it in or how many more were lying dead on the floor. There were just too many of the undead. One marine fell, his gun shooting wildly as he was drug to the ground by a legless zombie. His screams echoed throughout the open space in the church, but ended when his trachea was ripped out.

  A smoky haze filled the church, and Damon lost sight of the remaining marines. Gunshots and screams followed him and Chloe up the stairs. Damon pushed her up them faster. The Sergeant fired off another five shots before bounding up the wooden staircase after them.

  Damon and Chloe emerged at the top. “Oh no!” Chloe looked up and down the halls. “Which way?” Damon remembered the hallway from his time staying up here, but he had no idea which way the bell tower was. They were staring at three different ways to choose. Damon quickly eliminated the hallway on the right of them because that was where they were held. It would not be long until the zombies found their way up the stairs. He thought. Damon grabbed Chloe’s hand and took a step forward.