Dead Ones

Chapter 2: Existence

Present time

I stood in the middle of the street. The same place I had been extracted, months prior. I was pissed at the world. I was pissed at myself. The one thing I had been living for was gone. I had nothing left. No one left. Nothing but this anger, this raging fire burning inside of me. I drew my M1911 pistol and fired a single shot into the air. I lowered the handgun and stared at the ground. I heard a faint snapping sound coming from the nearby tree line. A lumberjack who had turned was walking from the brush. He was wearing a fur hat, blue jeans, and a black and reg plaid shirt. His wood splitting maul was still fastened to his left wrist and dangled loosely by his side, tapping against his leg as he walked. The weight of the tool caused him to be hunched over slightly to his left. I holstered my pistol. I approached it at the same feet-dragging pace as it approached me. I swung my left fist hard and quick. I made contact with its jaw with a crack. It was most definitely broken because it hung limply open on that side now, dangling off by a few threads. When it regained its composure and began pursuing me again I threw a second swing, connecting with the side of its head with my fist. Another loud crack followed, but this time I don't think it was the dead one. The back of my hand is flushed with pain. I swore loudly, either at myself or the dead I did not know. I wasn't satisfied. When it got close again I leaned back and balanced on my left leg, kicking it hard in the chest with my right leg. It stumbled backward and fell onto its back. It began to stand back up again. It did not give up, so neither did I. I rushed it and pushed it backwards. It stumbled onto its back again. It did not try to get back up. I walked over to where it laid on the ground. It spun around onto its stomach and grabbed hold of my ankle. I ripped my leg free of its grasp and brought my foot down hard onto the wrist that had the axe strap wrapped around it. Bone broke and flesh was torn. I reached down and grabbed the handle of the wood splitting maul. I ripped it upwards, breaking it free from its fixed place on the dead man's wrist. I swung the tool over my head and brought it down hard on the dead one's head on the flat end of the maul. The round bones of the skull became flat and the ground was recolored. It's body relaxed and it was no more. I stood up straight, balancing slightly on the maul in my hands. I looked at it from one end to the other. I surveyed the smooth wood at the handle and as my eyes traveled the wood began to become spattered with more and more red. I picked the weapon fully up and got a feel for it. My eyes left my local surroundings and fell upon the direction of the city. I was going to go back. I pulled out my handgun and shot a round into the still body of the dead one in frustration. I holstered my pistol and began walking with haste towards the city. I dangled the maul at my side from my right hand. I was pissed at everything and everyone and the only thing keeping me from aiming the gun at myself was taking out my rage on these things. These monsters did this to my wife. They drove her mad, like they were doing to me now...

 Maul, still in hand, fueled by pure emotion. I rammed the tool through the window of a nearby car, causing the alarm to go off. I drew my handgun. Banging the butt of the pistol on the roof of the vehicle three times, I shouted at the top of my lungs to get the attention of any of the dead that were nearby. I got my wish. The dead started to leave homes and appear from around corners. They seemed to be coming from everywhere. I approached the nearest one before it got to me. I left-hooked it across the face. Pain shot up my left arm as I made contact, but I didn't care. I hit it again, wincing in pain. It stumbled backwards for a second, and when it did, I shot it in the head. It crumpled to the floor like a limp doll dropped by a child. Another came charging at me with impressive speed and coordination. I side stepped and redirected its momentum. Now beside it, I grabbed the back of its head and slammed it on the roof of the car. It too collapsed. One had snuck up behind me. It grabbed hold of my back. I elbowed it in the nose before it could bite me, making it fall backwards. It sat up, attempting to grab at my legs, but was met with a swift kick to the head with my steel toed boots. It too lay still, faintly bleeding from its forehead. I discharged two more rounds, both hitting their mark and making two more of the dead drop. A third dragging itself along the ground around the car tripped me. I fell on top of it. I was now sitting on its back. Its head between my legs, it turned to try and bite my calf, but I pressed the barrel of the gun to its head and squeezed quickly. I stood and wasted one more with a swift shot. From the corner of my eye I saw one rushing me. I turned to shoot it, and I did, but I missed my mark. I hit it in the chest. It slowed its momentum, but it did not stop. It let out a cry of pain when the bullet made an impact. It tackled me to the ground. I put the gun to its head and squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened but a faint clicking noise. I was empty. I swore again. I slammed the empty pistol against its head, dropping it in the process. Stunned for a second, I pushed it off of me. I rolled onto my side, off of my back. I drew my knife. Both the dead man and I stood. It walked straight for me, but I danced around it. Knife in hand in a downward combat position. I got an opening and I took it. Swinging my arm in its direction, blade facing it. I slammed the combat knife into the side of its head. It fell, taking the knife with it. I knelt, putting pressure on its skull with my bad hand, pulling the blade out with the other. There were about three others around me. I pulled the knife from my cryo pod out of my belt loop with my left hand, holding it in an upright position. It was considerably smaller than my usual carry. Taking note of this, I lunged to my left, taking the single dead one on my left, head on, literally. It dropped, the knife still lodged in its skull and I left it for the time being. I quickly slammed my usual knife into its holster for the time being. I pulled the maul out from the car and swung it diagonally and upward in the direction of two approaching dead ones. The weighted and edged weapon carried through the soft flesh and spine of the first one, broke free, and decapitated the second, splitting its skull diagonally in half. I let go of the maul and approached the dead one I had cut in half. I brought my leg up and stomped its skull into the pavement.  I drew my knife again and approached the last one. I grabbed its head with my left hand. I stared into its eyes. It stared right back, trying to take a bite out of me. I plunged my knife hard with an upward motion through the underside of its jaw, and it exited through the top of its skull. I yanked it out and let the dead one fall to the ground. I stood in the middle of the street. The blood of the dead coating my arms and weaponry. It spattered my face. My knuckles of both hands were bare and bleeding. I wiped my knife blade on my pants, and sheathed it. I pulled the smaller knife from the head of the other dead one and did the same. I picked up my empty pistol. I exchanged the magazine for a full one and closed the chamber with the slide release. I holstered it and put the empty mag in my backpack. I walked over to and picked up the maul. I held it lazily by my side. I looked at the carnage surrounding me. The floor was littered with the remains of the undead, spent casings, and blood. I was shaking mildly. Partly adrenaline, partly pain, mostly rage. I wasn't finished. They took my wife from me and they needed to die. All of them. I walked to the corner of the street. Rounding the corner, immediately I backtracked. Around the corner was a horde, maybe two dozen of the dead. They all turned in my direction and started to pursue. They must have heard the commotion of the fight. My feet slipped and skidded on the ground as I desperately tried to change direction. Time for fighting was over. I couldn't take on this many at once...