PaleFucks (Full Chapter)

PALEFUCKS

It happened around Thanksgiving. The air was turning colder and the nights were steadily growing longer. We had gathered a rather large group. We took a vote. I lost. Now we were too large. Not even knowing these other people, we allowed them to endangered our lives. A smaller group of about 8-12 people or independent groups of 8-12 working together, like us, are the best ways of combating this horde. Almost like an army. Squad by squad we move. Any more people and you may attract unwanted attention. It's the noise that does it. That many voices, all whispering. The sound really travels when people don't exist anymore. No more people. Only survivors. Of those , there are the useful, and there are the dead. Try being useful every now and then. You may live another day.
Our huddled mass was sneaking through the dimly lit streets of -LOCATION-OMITTED-. We tried to make it to shelter before sundown. We failed. Street lights were black sporadically throughout the abandoned metropolis. A few windows were still lit in random windows of random buildings. Some with random shadows. Passed apartments and office spaces we would sneak. Passed schools and homes. The Zombies here, like most places, took over quickly. They ate. A lot. So, when there's no more food, you go and find it. So they do. One by one they gather in the streets. They march. They hunt. They rarely get far. Usually sticking to the streets of their town or city.
One of the eeriest things to watch, a Zombie March. Brains simplistic enough to keep to the roads and follow them to more meat. They would fill the streets. Shoulder to shoulder all trying to get food. Shuffling their feet. Moaning. All in unison. It's not a soundtrack that I ever wish to here again. But at least they leave. It is nice to see them go when you need an open path to shelter.
Our smaller group had witnessed this event a few times before. Never a size like the last one. As our original group of 21 entered -LOCATION-OMITTED- we sought shelter immediately. Night was approaching. We found and cleared a small apartment complex. It took one hour. That's when we saw them. Thousands of them packing the streets. Like an equality march for Dead Rights to Eat. We stayed silent as they passed. Right below us. It was intense. The smell was impossible to ignore. We tried resting with the pungent elephant in the room.
It was the next day that we ran into this new group. Eighteen people. Meek. Cowardly. Lucky. They were alive when so many good people, better people, I know were dead. Yet we were set up to work as a majority. So we took a vote. Xander's group says “no” by a vote of 7-5. My group says “yes” by a vote of 6-3. I'm in the 3. The vote to keep them passes 11-10. Great. After this, they start listening to the 10 a little better.



The large group is whispering quietly to each other. Scared hushes from mothers to daughters. Trembling fathers attempting to comfort their sons. All of this will get us killed. Our mass was split into two, like always. Xander with 12 and me with 9 plus the additional 18. We were, after all, the “Yes” group. New rule: Democracy sucks in a Zombunist Society.
This cloud of stupidity around me is akin to a herd of grass-grazers being led to slaughter. Thinking that just because they're following the guys with the guns that they're gonna be just fine. Hunky-Dorie. But the truth was that these people weren't of any use except becoming more ammo for the other side. I should've done them in. I should've killed them all before we ever got going. Would've saved some trouble later.


"Where can we go? There's way too many of us to camp out now." Libby chimes in first. She speaks in our usual whisper words. She's almost always the first to get things rolling. Even if she never leads the conversation, her opinion is still well noted among us. Has been for a while now.
“THEY ain't US.” Erik wastes no time in getting his opinion heard as well. “The only place around here close enough, or BIG enough, is the gym. North about 2 miles. We can pretty easily control those entrances and exits too.”
"We can even get back into the locker rooms if we have to. Barricade ourselves in. The problem would be the exit..." the guy's got a lot of pull, so when Xander agrees, it's pretty much a sealed deal.
I remind them, "We DID check the place out on the way through right? So...who went into the locker rooms?"
"Me" James sounds off.
"Okay, are there any windows at all?"
"I don't remember. I think so."
"Alright, think harder. Who scoped out the West side of the building?"
"I did" Sara's confident, quite, voice.
"Do you remember it being a solid wall? Or were there windows? It'd be pretty obvious."
"There were, yeah. About this high.” gesturing a hand above her head. “About six feet tall. Kinda small."
"Could I-?"
"Get through? Yeah... It's some of the newbies..."
"If we have to, we leave them... End of story."
"WE VOTED! YOU CAN'T!" Emma. It's hard to say no to her sometimes.
"Shut it! It's done!” only sometimes. “I'm not risking all of us for these people. No way. Not his group. Not my group. Not you. Not me. If it comes down to it, we cut them loose. Got it?"
"...Fine" she begrudgingly concedes. "Just promise me you'll do everything you can before that happens to help them. Okay?"
"These people are not who I-"
"Shh!"
Collectively silencing ourselves, we hear it. A sound only 21 people have ever heard. Our twenty-one. Waiting in the apartment as they passed on the street. Now they're back. Thousands of them. Shoulder to shoulder for blocks. And the main coarse is on Main Street. Goddamn it. We run. All together, we run.


Xander's group takes point clearing away any stragglers that missed the march. There aren't many. Quickly the lead group heads north towards the gym. Emma stays behind our new crowd to make sure they're safe. Not her job.
"What the fuck are you doing? You do want to live, right?" I hold back as much as I can.
"I-"
"Get to the damn gym. NOW. I've got this." It's not that she wouldn't be of help. It's not that she wouldn't kick some serious zombie ass. She would. She can. I've seen it. I just don't want her putting herself on the line for strangers. I can't see her getting hurt for nothing. I can't see her getting hurt. Period.
"You can't." she's pleading now.
"I am. Go."
"Not alone you're not. I'll stay."
"The reason I'm here is so you don't have to be. Now go. Please." It's there in my voice. My worry. My heart. I can't hide it this time. It's always been there. She sees it. She's just never known for sure. Until now.
I see the tear she tries to hide as she ducks her head and sprints towards the others. She takes a clean shot with her bat to the head of zombie stumbling in from a nearby alley. As she turns her head, running, I see a single tear fall from her cheek. Suspended in mid air under the pale streetlight. Sparkling. Tough girl.
"GET YOUR ASSES IN GEAR!!! I'M NOT HERE FOR YOU!" I scream at the Guests. They scream. They run. Cows into the chute. For the first time showing some motivation.
A crackle on the walkie and I hear Xander, "What the hell are you doing? Leave 'em!"
"I told Emma I wouldn't."
Not that shit again...FINE." the dead click on the other end was comforting. Within seconds Xander is at my side with Aaron, Mike, and Chris. "We're down to fuck shit up with ya."
“Fine. but don't shoot until-”
AAAAAAAAaaauuuuuuuuhhhhh. uUUUUUuaaaaaah." a sick chorus line of death-heaves and scraping toes. They see us.
“Shit. Rifles.” with mine already out I release the bindings of the safety that have held back My Aggression. My MP4, she explodes. One round at a time. One skull at a time. Slowly. Methodically. Every. Bullet. Counts.
Xander and the others have already moved up and are prone on stoops and planters.
Carefully guys. One at a time. Aim Mike!!! FUCK!" Xander maintains control and carefully sweeps his M1 Garand across the school of dead fish on two legs. Eight rounds. Eight kills. The clear ping of an empty clip. "Goddamn that was awesome! I wish I had more clips..." He's smiling and laughing.
So am I as I fire a single round through the forehead of a charge nurse. "Maybe now you could just use it as a back-up bat!"
“Fuck that." He leaves the rifle and swings the AR15 from his shoulder as we advance up the road. Towards refuge. Chris takes down three entire rows before his M4 clip is done.
"Moving!" I pat Xander's shoulder to let him know I'm peeling. I round up the street, out of the others' line of sight, and set up further down the road. I squeeze off a few more rounds and a few more zeds go down. Xander taps Chris and then peels up the street alongside me. He takes a perch and opens fire. We continue like this for a while. Our well-oiled machine. We communicate well. We kill better.
Aaron takes his marksmanship a little serious. Posted up on a nearby rooftop, he clears the road ahead of us. Carefully taking down targets around our 18 new pieces of flesh with his 7.62 NATO rounds. They tear through their victims like a hot knife through Zombie brain. "Guys. We're clear up here. The path for our 'Guests' is open and they're almost to the doors."
I tap Xander on the shoulder one last time and run. Once he peels off we're all in a dead sprint for the gym. We must have put a mile and a half of deader bodies in the street on our way up to the gymnasium. Lots of rounds...Fucking new people..."Sorry about this shit guys."
"Don't...worry about it now. We always....find more. If we...cut the fat....tonight...we should...be okay.." Even in broken speech it calms me right down. Xander gets me to focus.
As we round the last corner we can see the gym ahead of us. It's what we hear behind us that gets our attention. Screams higher pitched then we've ever heard. Zombies for sure. It sounds like a band saw shredding vocal chords and gargling on the blood. A noise so loud and horrible everyone cowers. Except us.
Xander and I. We stood. We began looking down the street for the source. Half expecting something to be crawling on the walls. No such luck. Before the blackout we heard the virus can mutate the host in order to keep it alive. We never imagined this.


There were a few dozen of them. Pale. Pasty. Nearly skin and bones. The street lights shining off of them. Their dermis, almost invisible, tightly stretched across odd muscle. It has a distinct sheen to it. Eggshells. Through the skin you can see the obviously defined and toned muscles beneath. The creatures seem oddly strong and agile for looking so malnourished. Stretch marks and sores extend the length of their bulbous, blue, grotesque guts. They've been feeding. Often. Long, dark brown nails, resembling talons on the tip of every finger. Nearly a foot long in some cases. Long, thick, jet black hairs covering the head. The glowing red eyes easily visible through parts in the sheets of hair. The other zombies didn't leave because they finished eating. They left because they were out-hunted! These pale fuckers ate more than their share of this city. That was obvious.
"What the fuck are those things!?!??" Mike has a valid question.
"Dead." I fire my equally valid answer through the frontal lobe of the first PaleFuck. It dies in and equally agreeable manner. Then they're gone. In the blink of an eye the entire group vanished into the darkness. Imagine, if you will, a school of mackerel. All swimming in one direction. They see a predator and with a motion, all are gone. One single entity. Except our mackerel are 6 feet tall and like to eat us. They are the predators. "......fuck"
"RUUUN!!!" Xander gets our blood boiling and our legs pistoning towards the gym. Not far now. We hear the screams all around us as the PaleFucks close in.
“Run! RUN!! They're everywhere!” Aaron screams, looking back at us as he reaches the doors. The rest of us dare not look. We have to make it to the doors. We have to. Our legs are on fire. “RUUUN!!!”
We reach the doors just as we hear the first one on us. A sickly clattering of its overgrown toe nails on the concrete. Their speed is incredible. His reflexes are better. With a swing of the rifle Aaron has loaded a round and scoped his target. He drains the afterlife out of the PaleFuck four feet in front of me as I turn around. Its speed causes the creature to crumble into my shins. The touch of its flesh is impossible to describe. But the feeling it gave me was undeniable. Dread. For the first time I could feel the terror of the world at my feet. This is why I do what I do. This is why I got so good at it. To violently rip this feeling from the face of my Earth. I pound my size 12 through its skull. One bulging, red eye pops from its socket and rolls towards the quickly approaching school of wight.
Sara opens the door like a bullet when she hears the gunshot. The five of us cram into the doorway and we quickly barricade it with our usual supplies. Homemade door-jams, braces, the usual Lockdown Devices.
Emma's in my arms before I realize it. Muttering “...idiot..idiot...stupid...”, I have to cut her short. No time for this. I take her by the shoulders and stare into her. “I'm fine” I lip to her with a smile. She smiles coyly.
"W-w-w-what the fuck was THAT!?!! The last, shrill note of Martha's poorly timed question gets an even poorer response.
"THAT, BITCH, IS WHAT SHOULDA BEEN EATIN YOUR ASS!!!" Chris can't hold it back anymore. Like all of us, he's been pushed to the edge. We didn't make our promise to each other for THEM after all. We were in this for Us, not Them. Martha starts crying. Mr. Martha STARTS to get up. Mr. Martha looks at Xander. Mister sits down. Good boy.
"Are all the doors sealed already?" Mike asks the pertinent questions.
"Me, Wes, Emma and Alice sealed off the gym and swept the locker rooms when we got in. We're all clear." as Sara said it the first PaleFuck tried the front barricade. Throwing it's body against the doors causing them to nearly imploded in on themselves. Lucky for our homemade braces. They seem to hold just fine. We did design them for this after all.
More and more they try. Feverishly they try. Pounding the doors over and over. Wailing their malignant, throaty harmonies. Our new guests are just about pissing themselves. The children in the crowd are bawling. So are their parents. In every possible way the PaleFucks try to get at our Guests. Every way. Except one.
The breaking of the glass can faintly be heard behind the hollow screeching outside They're too damned fast. Too fucking smart. They used our exit against us. Bastards. Pale fucks...


The gym is dark as pitch. Nearly no visible light from the outside. The only light coming from the hands of the our group. Crisscrossing beams of light and dust flailing around the giant empty space. There's a double door at the far end. These lead to a hallway that connects to each locker room. There used to be two windows at the end of the hallway.
Racing for the double doors we hear the first one. Hear it in our bones. The band saw sound. Half cringe, half sprint the Cavemen are running. The Cavewomen too. Six people running for the doors, ten guns facing the doors, five guards around the Guests. A dozen or so lights trained on the door. A few trained on our Guests. Xander and I are in the first group. Always. Never send a soldier into hell before yourself.
"They're in! Lock down that fucking exit!!" The order comes from me but the group is already in motion. Not our first rodeo. We all have our parts. "Controlled shots! Cover the sides!"
The screeching grows massively louder as more and more funnel in. The clacking of their feet against the tile floors is a grim reminder of what's to come. We've never really fought these things. Two. Only TWO out of over three dozen were dead. Those two were hard enough.
"I'm goin in! Watch my ass!" Wes, in full sprint, throws himself against the door. Bad move. The odd muscle structure becomes evident at once as Wes is thrown 30 feet through the air the moment the first PaleFuck charges the entrance. He lands in a sickening pile, motionless. No time now. Get to him later.
At once we all open fire. Front row on a knee. Back row laying into the open doorway as they tighten formation. One, two, three...The Pales keep funneling in. Four, five, six, the bodies are starting to pile up. Slowly, methodically they approach the door. The back group of ten Cavepeople reach us just as the PaleFucks stop. Everything stops.
All at once there is a dead silence. Hearts pumping, Xander and I charge the doors. We drop our guns and take up arms. My katana, D34TH sings as she's set free of her sheath. Xander pulls both machetes off his back and we are thrown into hell. Even with the pale moonlight coming through the windows at the end of the hallway it was hard to see them. They were out the locker rooms and through the hallway before we could reach the doors. Three PaleFucks break through the threshold and are on us in an instant. Fuck they're fast!
D34TH takes a Pale life as the first monster slashes at my head. It misses as I duck under its arm and rise through the bloated body. For all their muscles, they don't do well against my Steel. The gut sack bursts open as the Pale falls to the floor. In two.
Xander screaming, on overdrive, charges his knees into the chest of the next Fuck and is claiming it's head before the two of them hit the ground. A scissor action from both machetes assured him of this trophy. The third gets away.
It's too fast for our gunners and quickly get us into a crossfire situation. Too fuckin smart too. Xander and I maintain our focus on the hallway doors while the others handle the situation behind. The straggler leaps over our lines with ease and is upon the Guests. Too close for guns.
The creature rips into a mother and daughter as they scream. The mother covers her daughter as best she can. It shows no mercy. Leading with its claws it quickly kills it's meal. The mother's scream dies out in a gurgle. The child doesn't stop. The crowd panics and runs towards the back wall. It sees them. It chases them. It catches one. A large man by the name of Edward is taken down like a safari dinner. Tackled from behind he heaves as he falls. Four teeth are knocked loose as Ed meets the court. Standing with both feet on the man's lower back, the monster swipes at the back of his skull. Brains and bone go flying as the creature removes whatever Edward had on his mind at that specific moment.
"FUCKER!!!" Sara drains the Pale with the .12 gauge and sprints towards the little girl. Stacy is only 8 years old. She's terrified. Sara is on her in an instant and wrapping her wounds. Stacy's bleeding from the head, arms, back. Her mother saved her life. Barely. "You're okay...you're okay...you'll be just fine. Don't worry...."
Two more Pales want to try their luck. Aaron and Emma put an end to that. One bullet in one eye each. Dead aim. I charge forward, with Xander just behind. Four more break into the gym. Too close to us for the group to open fire. So we handle it.
Two jump at Xander. One catches a blade, the other catches Xander. The monster is on top of Xander until a swift hook across the soft jaw topples the beast. Armed with a single machete he takes over the role of Hunter. The Pale is actually running from Xander as Kate separates its head from its stomach. Piano wire and a weight make for a surprisingly affective medium range weapon. If used correctly. Which she does. The wire wrapped around its neck, and with a tug, trophy time.
"That was mine!" Xander loves trophies. He's smiling.
"Doors!" Kate yells as she throws Xan his other machete.
Back at the doors I had my hands full. The two wights charge me. One survives. I pivot passed the first and thrust into the mouth of the next. It slides down my blade and I can see it's face. For the first time. Featureless skulls wrapped in skin. Massive jaws and mandible muscles. Elongated, brown, shark teeth lined the mouth. Deep sockets containing their engorged red eyes. Racquetballs. These things are built to hunt at night. Efficiently.
I can't wait another second. I continue my blade upwards through the base of it's brain and finish the job. This next Pale was a smart fucker though. Kept me between himself, and our guns. Most of which were still trained on the door.
"You good!?!?" Aaron yells.
"Fine for now!! Watch the door! NO MORE GET IN!!" I yell back. All focus is now on the door.
With one exception. Emma is running to help me. I don't need it. The maggotfarm in front of me screams as it swipes at my chest. I move in time. Just. I feel it's nails rip at my body-armor. It holds. Just.
Emma reaches my side and the skinny Ramone-looking bastard takes notice. She stands ready just behind my left shoulder. I try to block her but it's too damned fast. Pivoting to its right, the Pale takes its shot with massive claws. It hits, it runs Emma through the shoulder. Four fingers deep. I take the thumb in my bicep.
In one, flawless, effortless motion I attack. D34TH in my right hand and death in my mind. I swing tight across my body, under the monster's right arm. I remove it with ease. I follow the flow up and around into its left shoulder and out through the right armpit. It dies. She falls.
The four fingers that were in Emma's shoulder are now out. The arm attached to the thumb is still in my bicep, deeper now. She hits the floor. I charge the door. The fear for her is hurting more then the arm. I remove the pale stump at the thumb. Not sure if it hit the artery. Not gonna take that chance. But her...
The others are already surrounding the door. Xander had swung them shut and they barely hung on their hinges, ajar. We can see the light streaming in through the multitude of bullet holes and the cracks in the door. Occasional shadows break the light. We tense up. These things are smart. Fucking smart!
I have our braces in hand sprinting towards the others. One PaleFuck rips the silence like lightning in the sky. The loudest and highest pitched yet. A horrible sound that deafens. A concussion grenade in our eardrums. We're all stunned. Even more so when the other Pales start to leave. One by one they left. Not quietly. Every single one of them sounding off as they exit the building. They took our numbers down. We did better.
"They're.........leaving?" Emma asks through the pain. Her voice distorted by the ringing. Her hair covering her face. Sticking to the cold sweat. She's crumpled up on the floor clutching her shoulder. Bleeding badly. She smiles at me. I run to her.


We batten down the doors and barricade ourselves in. They kept at it all night long. PaleFucks singing us to hell. No one slept. Not that night. Some of us didn't sleep for weeks after wards. But it still wasn't over. Not yet. We had wounded. We needed supplies.
The group had lanterns out as we organized the end of the chaos. The Horde from earlier had long since moved on. This food was already claimed. I was sitting with Emma against the bleachers. Trying to be gentle as I treated her wound the best I could. She's lucky. It just got the superficial tissue and muscle. No major damage. But she bled a lot. She's weaker then I've ever seen her. It surprises me. She sees it.
"I'm fine." she says, looking up at me through a meek smile. Trying to comfort me. "Really. It just hurts. I'll be okay."
"I know....I just..." She's smiling at me. I can't help but smile back. I brush her hair away from her face. She closes her eyes and smiles bigger. No pain. Tough Girl. I lean in and kiss her on the forehead. She takes a deep breath.
"AAAAGH!!" Wes has a few broken ribs. X and Libby are bandaging him. Doesn't help the mood.
"We need to get to the hospital guys. We NEED supplies." Xander steps up.
"I agree with Xander. We need supplies bad. Plus, we can always take more for later." I tend to agree with X. That's why this works.
"Well we're not going anywhere tonight. We should wait for morning. See if they go away." Sara was right. She sat holding Stacy in her arms. The little,terrified, motherless girl was finally quite. Might be shock. Sara managed to stop the bleeding but we needed something to treat the wounds.
"If I had to make a call, I'd say their skin doesn't hold up well to the sun." Libby interjects.
"Or at last doesn't see it much..." I counter.
"If we go out, who goes?" Jacky asks.
"Xander and I will take Chris, Aaron, James, Chloe, and Libby." Only one person questions me. X.
"You good?" referring to my arm. He already knows the answer. It's all for show.
"Course I am, asshole. " I smile. We had carefully removed the thumb from my arm when I realized my blood flow was okay. Still hurts like hell. Some kind of bacteria in there. We need Antibiotics.
"Then it's decided. All in favor of waiting out the night and going for supplies tomorrow?" Xander takes a vote. We all raise our hands. Even some Guests. They don't count. "Good. Then a small group'll go out for supplies tomorrow. The rest need to defend this shelter. We may be here for a while..."


As dawn begins to break the hollow wailing outside fades. All save one. The "Leader" we've come to call him. Loud-ass bastard. He keeps it up as they move back to whatever shithole they came out of Somewhere to the north of us. Mental note. Finally it's over. No more sounds. No more monsters. No more blood. Yet.
It was completely silent as the dew began to form. A slow morning fog rolled into the gym. That pleasant sense the foggy air brings would be welcome in most cases. Not this one. This fog had rolled in the death outside. Bringing the stench with it.
The group votes to wait another hour before leaving to make sure it's clear. I decide to take a look outside anyways. Xander comes with. As always. We make our way to the locker room with weapons in hand. I give my katana D34TH the morning off and brandish Fury. A modern broad axe with a fiberglass handle and 16 inch blade. Xander holding his usual two hands of steely death.
As we approach the doors our group rises and covers us. I slowly remove the bindings of our Lockdown Device and we're in. Xander leads. I follow. Some from our group haul the bodies of the fallen into the hallway. Stacy is screaming for her "Mommy". Our guys do as we've trained and barricade the doors behind us. We're alone, save the bodies. For now.
No words are spoken between the two of us. We advance carefully. Planned out. Always. The hallway is riddled with bullets and body parts. At the far end we can see the sunlight through the high, small, broken windows. One entry point. The grey figures are scattered everywhere. We make sure they're dead. One hit in the skull each. For good measure. We also take count as we pass. We need numbers. We have to know what we're up against. Just in case.
Our pace slows to a crawl as we approach the Mens and Womens locker rooms. The doors are wide open. Scratch marks, deep gouges, lining the hallway all leading to here. From here. Their claws cut at the walls with ease. The traffic back here must have been pretty heavy. Bullets don't help.
"We have to take both at once."
"Just...go in?" Xander seems pleased. He's smiling again. Our confidence is as high as ever.
"I don't wanna get ass-raped by one o'them. Do you?" We laugh. We're both smiling. This is the good news.
We burst through the doorways in unison and are face to face with a trap. This is the bad news. The Pales didn't all leave. There, inches from my face. One, pale, fuck. Two more standing behind him. A few huddled in the corner. Xander was against similar odds. Two standing side by side a few feet from the threshold. A few more against the back wall.
X doesn't stop. He takes the fight to our enemy. The Pales may be fast, but in close quarters like these, that speed counts for naught. The Pale on Xander's the right makes the first move towards him just as X hits the ground.
At full speed, sliding on both knees, Xander takes off the first Pale's right foot. He plants his weight and is back on his feet in time to see the next creature dive for him. Xander leans forward and locks his legs. Trunks rooted to the tile. He thrusts his left hand forward. The machete attached to it anchors into the jumping Pale's sternum.
The creature experiences a sudden and violent stop. Frozen in time, hovering off the ground, kept weightless by the power of Xander. It stares into the abyss of X and, with a quick swipe, all is turned off. The black haired head falls to the floor as Xander puts the right machete to work. Holding the body aloft with one arm and lopping the head with the other.
The first Pale isn't hobbling for much longer. With accuracy only seen in comic books Xander throws his machetes through it's skull. Both of them. Bullshit. He laughs.
The Pale in front of me is less then a snail fart away. Close. I can smell it's acrid breath. Putrefying wastes funneling from the saggy blue belly. It roars. I roar louder. I turn my Axe over in my hands and lift the blade in between the beasts legs. I drop to one knee, Fury deep inside the Pale. I brace the handle on my shoulder and stand with my back to the monster, tearing my blade through it, rising Fury above my head. The creature's not cut entirely in half. A literal axe gash of gore running up the entire body and face. Entrails and rotting flesh pour out onto the ground just before the Pale collapses.
The next PaleFuck sprints towards me. I side-step just as the mutant hits the open gut-sack of it's comrade. The creature loses it's footing and slides towards the doorway. I swing Fury high through the middle of the room. The creature tumbles through the open door. It's head doesn't make the trip. Two down. One more.
I can see the bullet holes pocked across the white flesh of the next one before me. Wounded. Just how I like 'em. They say that's when animals are the most dangerous. Only, I'm the animal. I attack. Running forward I use both hands to contain Fury. I make a wild downward swing at the black-mopped head. The beast barely pivots fast enough to avoid the attack. Just as planned. I wait for the obvious counter-attack then strike.
The Pale swings high at my face. Seems to be the preferred method. They like fast kills. Noted. As the monster's left arm passes over me I begin my work. I go at the white bark with both hands. Chopping down a tree. I make first contact in the left armpit, the Pale begins it's scream. The arm hangs limply to the side, barely holding on. The Pale screams louder. I feel the bone splinter as I cut into the side of the knee. I chop down the trunk. It screams louder as it goes to down on the opposite leg.
Smiling and staring down on my prey I start towards it's end. The next blow goes into the left collar bone. The screams are now at a deafening tone. One more swing and I hit the throat. The screams fade to gargling wheezes. Two, three, four. I continue my work on through the middle of the chest, down into the abdomen. Gotta turn wood into kindling after the the tree's cut down. I split it. It's done. A heaving mass of ruined flesh strewn about my feet.
Xander and I pause. We take in the situation. The only ones left are too wounded to stand, let alone fight us. Huddled against the walls and in the corners. Away from the sunlight.
"You good?" I ask.
"Yeah, you're never gonna believe this shit."
"What is it?"
"I swear to god, I just threw BOTH machetes into this fuck's skull. LOOK..." He chuckles as he says it.
I look. We laugh. He did that shit. I know he's not lying. No need to these days. Crazy shit happens all the time. You gotta enjoy the little things. Besides all that, he wouldn't lie to me. Nor I him.
We go back to the locker rooms and finish the job. Nothing special. Couple head taps. Some whining by the victims. The usual.
"CLEAR!" I call to the group as I head back towards the shattered hall windows. I hear them unbarring the door. They come in and take a body count. I clear the glass from the frame and Xander and I climb out of the window.
"Where are you going?!" Aaron says worriedly. He made it to the door at the first scream and was anxiously waiting for news.
"We ran into a few speed bumps! We're good now!" I answer back. "Count the heads! We're scouting the area. We'll knock up front so barricade this when you're done!"
The group does as they're asked. Thirty-one white bodies. Two pink ones. One is particularly missed. Stacy won't recover from this. It's a shame. So young. Too young to have to grow up in this world. She'll never make it. I hate being the realist.
The walkie crackles alive once more as Emma gets on the mic. "The final count is 31 guys."
"Thirty-one? How many were there on the street?" I ask in disbelief. "I only saw a few dozen, at the most..."
"By the sound of things this morning, there were PLENTY more..." Xander answers.
"....fuck. Let's be careful about this. It's not like they burn in the sun light."
"They probably can't see very well though. You see those eyes?" James asks.
"Oh yeah. Up close and personal. Let's get to this." I answer.
Xander walks around the south side of the gym and I clear the north. Nothing. No movement at all. There were still tons of zombies on the streets when the Pales showed up. There are none now. It's too quite. We meet at the east entrance doors and our group has them opened and battened back down within seconds.
"So what's the verdict?" Emma starts.
"Looks clear." we both respond.


The group rests for another hour while we figure out a plan. We finally set on making a supply check at a nearby hospital. We would take a small group so that we could move quicker. Once we gather the supplies, one group would stay and the supplies would back with an escort. Then we'd continue looking for more. Ironically enough, the only person in the gym that knew about the closest hospital was, a Guest. Said it's a smaller hospital. Perfect. But, ironically enough, it was their fault we were in this mess. We should've never taken them with us. My voters are regretting their earlier decisions...
My left arm throbs. The pain is manageable for now. Anything is manageable when you have something to protect. Some one. Emma's doing better now. I can see the pain in her face. She's tougher then I gave her credit for. She's full of surprises.
"Alright. Let's get to the Hospital. Who's coming with me?" Like that one.
"No way." I say shooting a glare her way.
"Joking." she says through a coy smile. "Just had to get you guys off your asses. My arm's killing me..." she giggles. It's about the only sweet thing left anymore.
"Alright fags, let's go." Xander gets the small Hospital group up and ready. Chris, Aaron, James, Chloe, and Libby all gather at the east barricade.
"Okay guys. Weapons check." I get the routine started. We lock and load. We pack spare ammo into our side packs. We check or current medical supplies. We double check our weapons. We triple check the shopping list. Antibiotics, painkillers, bandages, stitching materials, scalpels, forceps, the list goes on. We mark the most important ones. Those we go after first. The rest we get if we're lucky.
"Check."
"Check."
"Good."
"Check."
"Golden." Aaron finishes the sound off.
"I'm good. Let's Roll." Xander takes lead out the door. We all have the plan embedded into our brains. The moment the sunlight touches our faces we're pedals mashing floorboards. Full speed. One thing on our minds.
We leave the group in the gym in good enough condition. Two wounded, six up. They would let the Guests sleep as best they could. They would take turns in threes on watch. Most of the ammo and supplies are with them. They have enough to survive without us. For good if need be. If there's not contact in 12 hours, they'd have to. Everything is planned out. Again, not our first rodeo.
The day is just beginning as we tear up the street to the north. The Hospital is "two miles north, about one mile east..." according to Jim the Guest. "...On -STREET-NAME-OMITTED-." We carefully take in our surroundings as we move. We stop periodically to listen. Then we're sprinting again. Faster than before. We listen for any noises. Slight rustles in the leaves send us down the next street east. Past more dark homes and apartments. A car alarm sends us back north. We pay attention to everything. We are the all-seeing, all-knowing, killers of undead asshats.
We stick as close to any shrubbery or tree line as we can. We're doing well. Halfway there now. A loud bang freezes us all for an instant.
"East." I say "Mile or so." We've become good at estimations after so much time. We at once break north. Our tight little group, Xander up front. I've now shifted to the rear. Farther and farther we go. Legs churning, feeling like butter. As we near -STREET-NAME-OMITTED- we are greeted by our first encounter in hours.
The rustling of doors. The clanging of tin. Sounds of bodies against wood. There were Zeds up ahead. We needed to be careful now. We're all breathing heavily. Only a mile or so to go. We break back to the east and in no time are upon the Hospital.
The building had gone dark. No lights. It was small for a hospital, but with no lights, it still managed to look massive and foreboding. The sun was slowly rising over the east wall, struggling to light this visage of a building. We still needed to find a way in. The entrance was a no go. There were zombies packing the first floor of the hospital and spilling out onto the streets. Must have been some of last night's marchers. A huge line of the undead in need of insurance. Our healthcare system STILL sucks. We split into two groups. By 3 and 4 we went. One south, one north. We scouted the outside of the building for any entrances or low traffic zones. We met again at the east wall. Where we were greeted by a most pleasant site.
On the outside of the building was a fire escape, ladder fully extended. We carefully checked it's weight-baring capabilities and noise factor. Then, one by one, we went up. Slight noises were made. We were careful enough not to attract any unwanted attention.
Finally. The Hospital. The need to get here seemed like a neverending tale of tragedy and stupidity. Hopefully it will be a bastion of hope. We scan the rooms as we advance up the steel steps. We reach the roof with no problems. Too easy. The sun is still blazing above our heads. Feels like a hot day, but, it's just the personal armory we carry. We are, each, armed to the teeth. Main weapon, check. Backup, check. Melee, check. Secondary melee, check. Ropes, lockpicks, first aid supplies, ammo. To. The. Teeth.
The door into the inner stairwell is slightly ajar. Perfect. We form up behind Xander. He stows his .12 gauge and wields his bowie knife, carefully sheathed against his left shoulder. The machetes in dual sheaths crossed his back. A .9mm Glock 19 Parabellum at his right hip. The shotgun slung low.
Xander wasn't the only one well equipped. On top of my Fox Motorcycle Armor I had my katana diagonally at my back and my wakizashi across my lower back, handle to the left. My daishō was complete. I had my favorite .45 ACP 1911 Colt attached to my hip and my MP4 in my hands.
The others were similarly outfitted. Aaron had forgone his typical rifle for a more appropriate USAS-12 Assault Shotgun. One of our few treasures. Lucky kids. The rest followed suit. All rifles were left with the others at the gym. We needed all the close combat weapons we could take.
The hospital had forgone it's usual sterile appearance for a more decidedly “red” flavor. The stench in the hallways of the former meals now rotting in every other bed was hard to stomach. But we had to. Every single one of use trooped ahead without flinching. Passed rooms with bloodstained walls. Passed bodies and body parts all left rotting.
As we entered the hospital we heard them almost immediately. There are zombies packed into the first floor. The moaning can be heard on the fourth. We carefully advance through the ever growing darkness of the hospital. Every room seems to have closed blinds. There are a few exceptions which make the situation bearable without flashlights. This might be a good thing. Zombies don't see well in failing light.
Room by room we clear. No bodies. Just blood. No supplies either unfortunately. We continue at a steady pace. One by one we advance. We make our way towards the center of the floor hoping to find something, anything. We round a couple more wings, more gore, and at last come across a centralized area for the doctors and nurses. Supplies everywhere.
We scramble towards the supply rooms and gather as much as we can. We weren't the first, but the last folks left plenty for us. We take it all. We fill a medium sized satchel with gauze-wrapped antibiotics, dressings, tape, bandages, syringes, painkillers...You name it, we got it. James carried the satchel. Libby and Chris accompanied him back to the gym. Can't waste any supplies once we finally have them. We cleared our first floor and began to move down.
The four of us remaining find a nearby stairwell just as our three runners exit the building. We advance down one floor. There we could hear the obvious signs of un-life clambering about. We slow our pace and hone in on the noise. With a gesture Xander sends Aaron and Chloe to one side of the hallway. I slowly twist the silencer into place at the tip of my MP4. Another one of our rare treasures. Xander was right about stopping that night.
I'm over Xander's left shoulder as he edges into the room, knife in hand. The undead don't see us and we act on instinct. There are four of them. Standing around the bed at the far end of the small hospital room. Daylight barely visible through the cracked blinds. There are two zombies on either side of the bed. Two with their backs to us, two staring right at us. They go first.
Xander is in low, stalking posture, taking large, swaying steps as crosses the room to the left. I line up my sights and plug the two facing me. Clack. Clack. Two beautiful new holes. Luckily the wall takes the bullets and not the window. Aaron and Chloe are keeping watch outside as X finishes clearing.
Sweeping in from their left he strikes. Hit stabs the first one in the forehead just as it turns. Xander switches his grip on the blade and with a twist the knife is free. He uses the shoulders of the first zed to propel himself over and on top of the backs of both, forcing them face down into the empty bed. With a final stab, to the back of the head of the second zombie, it's done. One more room cleared.
We make our way further down the hall. More noise. More action. On the right this time. I cover our fronts. Xander pulls his Glock and is covering our backs. Chloe and Aaron edge into the open doorway. There are three more zombies. Two are crouching in the middle of the room around a large bloodstain. Wishing food back into their mouths. They have no idea how close it is. The third is against the back wall. Next to the window.
Chloe and Aaron load their crossbows. Got 'em five-finger. They're beauts. With two quick snaps the crouching zeds are lying down. I spot the third turning and nod at Aaron. Before he can act Chloe is in the room and on the ankle-walker. She's pulled out her nightsticks and is proceeding to beat the mouth of the zombie into it's brains. She's successful. The only noise being the sick, wet, suctioning sounds coming from every blow. The zombie falls. Chloe is covered in gray matter. She smiles. It's beautiful.
We move down the hall without further interruption and find the Nurse Station and supply cabinets. Not much there. Enough for half a satchel maybe.
"Not much." I whisper.
"Better then nothing." Aaron whispers back, satchel in hand.
"It's gonna start getting packed tight in here on the next couple of floors." I remind them
"I've got an idea," Xander snakes in, "I'll create a diversion. Lead them out of the Hospital."
"And go where?" Chloe snaps back. Gleefully wiping brain from her hair.
"The church on the way in. It's about a half mile west." I say. Xander and I smile at each other. The others see it.
"....fuuuuuuck..." they whisper in tandem. I want to laugh. But now's not the time.
"Okay. Here's what we do," I begin laying down the plan, "X and I will create a lot of chatter and head to the front doors. Once you see the second floor has cleared, make your way inside and take EVERYTHING. Then double-time it back to base."
"Got it." again, in tandem.
"Give us your Primaries." Xander makes sure we're well equipped.
Aaron almost cries as he hands X the weapon. Chloe has no problem giving up her MAC-10. We trade their guns for our steel. They take the machetes, katana, wakizashi. We need to be as mobile as possible for this. With a crowd this large, those weapons are nearly pointless. NEARLY. Aaron and Chloe will be just fine with what they have. What they have is speed. They'll make it back to the gym before any greyboy takes notice.
I unscrew the silencer as Xander and I make for the exit. Xander trades me the .12 gauge pump-action for the MAC-10. No need to hog the shottys. We make it to the third floor room attached to the fire escape. We step out onto the steel and into the sun. Just in time to be spotted by a couple shufflers. We run down one more flight and get things started.


"This is it." My last chance to talk before we open hells gates.
"See you on the other side brotha." We tense up and jump. Two stories straight down onto the grass. We tuck and roll through the fall. My body's on fire when I land. At once we're up with guns blazing. Carefully placed shots. We need to call attention, not waste ammo.
One zombie receives a softball-sized hole in back of his skull as my .45 tears into his cheek. Xander shoots the eye out of a young college student with his Glock. Her sweatshirt reps her sorority. She'll see them again soon. We head north around the building to the main entrance.
As we round the northwest corner we're greeted by a horde. Hundreds. They are already on us. Xander quickly draws the USAS-12 and shreds whatever human feature the first 20 zombies had left. He lays into the horde with half the rounds in the first clip. The second floor windows come to life at the noise.
We turn and run west, towards the church. The church. The noises earlier. Fuck. Forgot about them. We'll deal with it when we get there. The first row of zombie-pulp is tripping up the horde as it follows us. Like slow moving music fanatics, they will eventually trample whatever they have to, to get what they need. Contact.
We sprint towards the church as fast as our legs allows us. We're on the open road. Here for the taking. Everything is behind us now, and Hell follows them. We see a large group massing in the middle of the street in front of us. Came to investigate the ruckus.
"COMING THROUGH!!!" Xan screams as he lights up middle of the group. I follow behind briefly before sprinting ahead to clear the hole. I get off three clean shots with the .12 gauge center mass on the wall of undead before going in. I tuck my shoulder as I throw my entire body horizontally into the mini-horde. It looked bigger but the dozen or so up front were all limp. Easy to get through. I plow the back dozen over and create the perfect hole. As I begin to stand I see X jump over me and back on course for the church. He stops, turns, pulls the Glock, squeezes 6 rounds in 4 zombies reaching for me. They go down. I'm on my feet and running towards him again.
We're nearly on the doors of the church now. It's a larger building then I remember when we first ran by. The doors were large, maybe 12 feet tall, made of ornately carved wood. Not much further. I pause to take a look back. There was no more visible street past the horde, only crooked feet. Slowly approaching. We're at the front steps in seconds. Our legs are on fire. My body still sore from the fall. We struggle up the steps, one by one to the doors, only to find them locked.
"FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" with all his might Xander screams. He takes aim at the center of the doors and opens fire. The USAS-12 makes quick work of the wood and locks.
The doors swing open. For the most part it was very dark and empty. No light except the little streaming in through the stained glass windows. One busted out. It lit their skin rather beautifully when they stood. Dozens of colors sparkling over the nearly clear skin and odd muscle structure. Dozens of PaleFucks.

We had found their refuge. Their twisted home. We could smell the sour excrement that covered the walls and pews. Like bat guano, only worse. Maybe if the bats spent the day eating dead or dying flesh. They stood before us, wall to wall. The whitest congregation I've ever seen. Each one staring into our eyes. We stared right back.
We react first. Xander had changed clips before the doors opened and was again letting her rip. One jumps for the ceiling. I shoot him in the head with my .12 gauge as he peaks his jump. Another two jump across the pews near the south wall. Xander spreads them against a statue of the Virgin Mary. She's bleeding.
PaleFucks were falling left and right as Xander swept his hot death across there many numbers. I was getting off as many rounds as I could. X was in control. The creatures were frantic. Jumping into rafters, screaming their bloody screams, we killed them. ALL. I run out of shells and sling the pump-action. I trade for the MP4 and I have a field day sweeping through the leaping crowd.
They begin to charge us. I place a series of tight bursts into their faces as they pile up in the pews. Five more dead. Their screams are music to my ears for once. Xander and I are at the Holy Water. It's not working. We are. Another seven fall to Xander before he breaks out the MAC-10 and Glock. All seven couldn't be recognizable from ground beef. Most of the floor looked that way. Entrails were strewn from the rafters to altar and back. Dozens of gory piñatas. Blood and the putrid smell of their bloated guts floated in the still air. Of the few dozen Pales when we opened the doors, only six were left. And Him. The Leader. Sitting in the rafters. Hiding, watching, waiting.
X breaks for the other six. Utilizing the MAC-10 he sweeps the gun across and lights up the three on the right. Two take rounds to the head. One is hit a few times in the chest and goes down. Taking cover behind the first row of pews he fires off three .9mm shells and kills the Pale on the left. Only two more. Then the big one.
I sprint to the right, towards the confessional, as I open the head of one of the Pales. A good burst across it's face and it becomes a Pez-Dispenser. Flopping backwards sickly. The final Pale takes a Parabellum round to the right temple as it leaps at me. It rag-dolls into the pew in front of me like a string-less marionette. Our focus turns finally to Leader in the rafters. There's nothing.
"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!?!" I scream, demanding an answer. It answers back.
Hiding in the shadows of the pews and bodies, it was upon me. Leaping forward with both claws aimed at my chest. I get off a few rounds as it makes contact. The rounds land in the creature's gut and my bike armor holds. It feels like being hit by a car. I land on the floor with the Pale on top of me. Not my favorite position.
Looking up I see the monster screaming and about to attack. Without thinking I grab it's arms at the wrists. Fuck they ARE strong. It spreads it's arms as wide as they'll go. I hold on as tight as I can. My legs are still on fire but my arms feel like they're about to be torn from their sockets. Leader doesn't stop screaming.
Before I know it, X is in the air, knife in hand. He catches Leader in the right side of the throat and tumbles away. Leader stops screaming. It slowly stands up, me still clutching it's wrists, arms wide open, hanging in mid-air. I let go and land on my feet. Leader turns slowly towards Xander.
"FUCK YOU!" Xander yells as he charges. I throw my body into Leader's left knee. It breaks. Leader goes down just as Xander, in mid air, grabs it's throat. They topple over. I stand up and take a hold Leader's right foot, cold, clammy, disgusting. I drop my right knee down and destroy Leader's other leg-bender.
With X around it's neck and two broken knees, Leader flails its arms, splintering any and all wood within arms reach. Xander coldly carries the knife through the neck of the monster and the arms go limp. Reaching out, I take Xander's hand and get him to his feet. X grabs a handful of the Final PaleFucker's hair and, with a tug, rips off another trophy.
We got up slowly. Forgetting briefly of the impending horde. Only one problem. They we no longer impending upon us. They had stopped a quarter mile down the road. Still focused on us, they didn't dare go towards the church. Odd. Very. Not a bad problem to have. They seem to be wary of their Pale cousins. Aren't we all? Xander and I gather ourselves and our new trophy and make for the gym.
It's a long jog but the two of us are laughing the entire time. Try as we might during the our run, we couldn't recount every kills. But we remember them all being a work of art. We reach the gymnasium with no further hitch. The horde never followed. Our muscles tight and barely working as we approach the doors. With a knock, and a quick, "Fuck you, that's who!" we're back to safety. We put the Leader's head on a tether-ball post and leave it in front of the doors. It was much quieter that night.
By the time X and I had got back, everyone else was already back with the supplies and patched up. A couple of our stay-behind guards even went out for food. Came back with a boxes of Clif bars and warm Powerade. We ate like kings that night.
I sat against the bleachers, legs spread, as Emma knelt in front of me tending to my shoulder. Xander hadn't stopped talking about the battle for the last couple hours. Everyone needed to know how bad-ass it was. Me? I was just fine right here. I'll let him do the talking.
Emma's touch was still soft. Even in all this hatred and filth. She never stops surprising me. I smile at her. She smiles back.
"Glad you made it back in one piece." she says.
"Me too. I mean, what would you've done without me?" I smirk.
"Snuggle with Xander I guess..." she smirks backs as she lets the joke sink in. I smile at her. She smiles back. I touch her hand. Slowly, carefully, we lean in.
She lays her head on my chest. Listens to my hear beat. It beats for her. She looks up at me slowly. Her beautiful blue eyes melt me. She smiles at me. I smile back. She closes her eyes and leans forward. I reciprocate and lean down to meet her.
We kiss. A familiar, but altogether foreign feeling rushes through us. Her lips are a painful reminder of all that's been lost. I love her. In all this shit. I love her.
...Shit.