Dead Ones

Chapter 23: Storm

I staggered out of my temporary room. My gear was already equipped. Magazines loaded and ready. Bladed weapons, as sharp as razors. I met Maria, John, and Aaron in the center of the town. We were waiting for any other people who were willing to fight to join us. Slowly, people began to trickle in. When there were a decent number of people, I spoke. "If you came here and are not going to fight, please tell me," I said. A hand was raised in the crowd. It was Wolf. If anything, I was glad he was among the numbers who were staying behind. He was someone I could trust to take care of the group, as he had saved my neck a number of times. "Wolf?" I asked. "I will stay back and protect the people staying here," he said. "As you wish," I said. "Any others?" I asked. No one spoke. We had a decent number of fighters, but less than half our total numbers. We were significantly outnumbered, out-gunned, and it was the enemy's own home turf. The odds were not in our favor. I had a small idea. I turned to John and Maria and Aaron. "What if we convince the workers to fight back against the Hive, with the promise of a better life in the Refuge?" I asked them. "I don't see why not," John said. "I tend to agree," Maria said. "Well, you are trusting an army of the dead to aid us, so sure, why not trust the enemy too," Aaron said sarcastically. I shot him a glance. I turned back to the people. "Everyone ready to die?" I asked half jokingly. No one laughed. "Thought so," I said with a smile. I slipped my mask over my face. "Remember what you're fighting for," I said. I escorted the group to parked vehicles. We fired the engines up. Rose came up to my driver's side window. "What are you fighting for?" she asked me. "A future for my people," I said. "I'm fighting for that too," she said with a wink and a smile. She went to another car and got into it, flicking her black dyed hair, with the characteristic pink streak down the left side. The sky was beginning to turn grey. We seemed to be due for another storm. I drove at the head of the group of vehicles to the gate. The people at the gate opened it for us and bid us good luck. We turned from the town and made our way down the barren roads towards the Hive. The raid had officially began...

About five minutes from the facility, raindrops began to fall sporadically. We were within sight of the facility edges. The steam billowing from the smoke stacks was visible. I decided to stop the caravan and travel on foot from here. Everyone got out of their cars and gathered around. "Everybody, weapons hot, safeties off, we're going in," I said. I turned to face the Hive and began my pursuit towards it. A screaming wail echoed in between the raindrops to my eardrums. I turned to see the source of the noise. It was the Screamer. It was accompanied by hundreds of the dead. Some of the common ones I had seen before. Several had armor, helmets, and weaponry fixed to their hands. My people raised their weapons at the dead ones. "Woah! Hold your fire!" I shouted. They hesitated, but listened. "This is the Screamer and the dead ones that we're fighting with," I said. I walked over, breaching the gap between my people and the dead. I stood mere feet from the Screamer. "If I find any of my own dead to one of yours, there will be consequences," I said. "Are we clear?" I asked. It nodded. "Take a good look. Memorize these faces. Kill anything that isn't one of these people here," I said to the dead ones. Whether they understood me or not, I didn't know. I wanted to make myself very clear though. If any died to one of the dead, the Hive soldiers were the least of their worries.  What I told them contradicted what I had planned, to turn the workers against the leadership. That was a cost I was willing to pay. They were all dead to me at this point. It didn't matter how. "We'll take care of the people. You free your own and join the fight," I said to the Screamer. I walked back to my group of people. "Recruit as many of the enemies as you can. Give them a live or die choice," I said. Strike hard, strike fast, don't give them time to react. That was the plan. I racked the bolt of my rifle, chambering a round. I walked to the edge of the quarry. People were milling about, doing their jobs below as if it were a normal day. Despite the occasional rain drop here and there, work seemed to carry on as usual. I almost felt bad. "John," I said. "Hm?" he said, looking over to me. "Think you can get me inside that building?" I asked. "Most likely," he said. "Good," I said. He pulled the skull printed gator I had given him over his mouth and nose. "Charge!" I shouted. I began to run down the slope that rounded the edges of the pit. I heard thundering footsteps behind me. A primal, inhuman noise filled the air as hundreds of the dead pelted down the ramp, sprinting faster than I was running. Others slid down the sloped edges of the quarry. I was met with a hail of gunfire. The dead ones running alongside me ate a few of the bullets, keeping me safe. Some of them howled in pain. Others seemed used to it at this point. Together, man and monster reached the center of the pit. "Fan out!" I shouted. My people took cover behind barrels and machinery, firing at workers and soldiers alike. The dead ones did not bother to dash for cover. They charged the workers and soldiers. They tackled them or slashed at them with their bladed appendages. The screams and howls nearly blotted out the gunfire. It was absolute chaos. Out of the chaos, I saw one man standing above the rest. Not even bothering to take cover, Stray stood out. He held his flammer at his hip and laid on the trigger. He painted soldiers with flaming liquid. The ones who were on fire immediately stopped fighting and attempted to extinguish the flames, but to no avail. The anguished screams of the burning filled my ears and rattled around my skull. He was a true fighter. I gave him credit. "Stray!" I shouted over to him. He left his position and rushed over to where I was behind cover. "Yeah?" he asked me. "Take that shit inside. Give em' hell," I said. He was out of breath. "Sir, yes sir," he panted. He rushed to one of the entrances of the building. Full force, he rammed his shoulder into the closed door, smashing it open. He let a burst of flames enter the building before he went inside. I signaled for others to follow him. I rushed inside shortly after he did so. Stray stood, facing a group of unarmed workers. They shook in their boots, raising their hands in surrender. "Stray, stand down," I said. He didn't move. "Stray!" I shouted. He turned to face me. "What do I do?" he asked me. "Let em' go. If they can survive and make it out of here alive, then they deserve a second chance," I said. He shrugged. He let them pass him, walking towards the front door in a single file line. One in the line made a quick movement as he passed me. He had drawn a gun from his waistband. I grabbed his arm and directed it away from Stray. The gun went off, striking a nearby pipe with pressurized steam in it. I broke the gun from the man's grip. "Get the hell outta here before I change my damn mind," I said to him. He quickened his pace as he and the others walked out. "I swear if I ever see him again I'll paint the grass with his brains," I said to Stray. He chuckled darkly. "Come on, let's clear some of the floor while the others come in," I said to him. And with that, we began simple sweeps of the floors, climbing our way upward...