The Good, The Bad, The Dead

The Swarm

I left the tent and put my mask on. Kent ran up to me. "Amigo! What happened? I heard the shot!" I shook my head and looked back at the tent. Kent understood and nodded, "We should go." I nodded and looked back towards the rest of the tents. How many other families that may have been turned.
"That bastard Sampson was right about one thing Kent..."
He looked to me. "And what's that?"
I stared into the visors on his facemask. I somehow saw the pity without seeing his eyes. It annoyed me.
"This is war. And in war, we have no choice..."
We left the tent and continued searching for survivors. Suprisingly all we found were bodies. Deadies shot either by themselves during their turning or by someone trying to protect themselves. We reached the other end of the field and decided to radio the others.
"Jules, this is Hamburg." I stated, trying to get through.
"We're at the entrance, how's your end going?"
As if on cue, an explosion rocked the whole prison. The fire and smoke came from the landing platform. The once quiet yard was suddenly filled with the screams and moans of deadies. One by one they came out of the shadows, looking for prey. Jules had still not answered.
Me and Kent backed into a wall, him covering our left and me covering our right. The deadies slowly moved in on us until we were surrounded with no escape. Suddenly a roar shook the entire prison, one I have never heard before. The deadies stopped and stared at us, like wolves watching and waiting for their alpha's order. I looked over them to see something pushing through the pack slowly.
When this mysterious alpha finally showed his face, my heart dropped. It was Patterson. His cheeks torn and his jaw hanging open. Skeletal and bloody hands pushing aside his swarm. His stomach gashed open, a pool of blood draining for what seemed endlessly from it.
His pure white pupils seemed smarter than the other ones. Intelligent yet full of rage and hunger... It spoke, yes you read that right, it spoke. "Haaaaaambahhhhhg..."
My gun suddenly dropped, along with my knees. I was in disbelief. How much more of this can I go through in one day?? I spoke back.
"P... Patterson?"
The alpha nodded, his jaw flopping around as he did. His jaw seemed dislocated and yet worked perfectly when it spoke.
"Youuuuuuu leaaaave meeeee!"
I shook my head. "No Lars! I tried going back! But Sampson-"
He stomped and grunted, the deadies seemed uneased by this. "Noooooo. Stonnnnne Colllllllld waaaaaasn't reeeeeeeasoooon fooooor thiiiiiis" He gestured to his face. "Theeeee blaaaaame iiiiiis ooooon... HAAAAAAMBAAAAAAAHG!"
He screamed at me, his voice like that of a snake, yet his lungs, I could see in the hole in his stomach, were not moving until he spoke. I looked down at a puddle into my reflection. My long, greasy, dark blonde hair was hanging out of my helmet. I removed my mask to see my own blue eyes reflect off the surface. The scar on my left cheek seemed wider than it was.
I got that scar from shrapnel that flew from a grenade that Patterson had thrown into a swarm two years ago. Patterson's fault for that scar. He never forgot. My dry, cracked lips tightened as I saw my greyish blue eyes turned from sadness to rage. It WASN'T my fault! It was SAMPSON!
No. Not Sampson. It wasn't even Patterson's fault. It was just... I stood up and stared into my friend's dead eyes.
"IT WASN'T MY FAULT! IT WASN'T YOURS! IT WASN'T EVEN THE DEADIES! IT WAS THIS WAR! YOU DIED FOR OUR WAR, GOD DAMMIT! And I'm sorry Lars. But you're not the friend I had anymore... he's dead!"
I aimed my gun straight at his forehead. "You're a monster! And monster's die!"