Chapter 12

     I open my eyes to sunlight, I roll over but Alyx has already gotten up and gotten dressed.

     I slide out of bed, releasing a monumental stretch, my body fully rested and nourished from the brief but well used stay here.

     I walk to the bathroom and look in the mirror. Facial hair is starting to grow, not by much, but I've always hated having facial hair.

The graze on my cheek is going to leave a nice scar, it's clotted over the dried blood nearly blackened. I turn on the tap to see if there is still water.

     The water runs brown to start but then clears out, the rust in the pipes coming through. The smell of sulfur begins to fill the bathroom. This place is running on well water. I think to myself as the stench of eggs fills my nostrils.

I walk to the shower and turn on the hot water, within seconds the bathroom gets cloudy with condensation, the mirror fogging over.

     I step into the shower and instantly feel relieved. The water draining is brown with the dirt that had gotten stuck to my body over the past week. I quickly wash my hair, being careful not to rip the gash in my head open.

I wash the rest of my body and grab a towel and wrap it around my waist. I stroll back into the bedroom and raid the closet for something to wear.

Cassie bursts into the room while I'm sliding on a pair of distressed blue jeans.

"Bright and early." She says, mocking what I said last night.

"What time is it?" I ask, pulling another tight shirt from the closet.

"Eleven o'clock."

     I sigh and pull the shirt over my body and slip my socks and shoes on. "Lets go." Every one loads into the truck, Cassie takes the passenger seat. Alyx climbs in the back, a look of annoyance on her face. I look back at her and shrug my shoulders with an apologetic smile.

     "Alright, everyone, to Charleston it is." I say, cranking the engine and putting the truck into first gear. I look down at the gas gauge, there's still half a tank. Should be enough to get us into Philadelphia. I think to myself.

     The ride is mostly silent, a nervousness falling over the crowd.

The drive is peaceful, not a zombie in sight, which is a little nerve wracking. Where could they all be?

We pass a mile marker sign that says Philadelphia is coming up in twenty miles. I look at the gas gauge, quarter of a tank left.

"When we get into Philadelphia," I look over to Cassie, "keep your eyes peeled for a gun store. We really need something to defend..." all of the sudden an ear splitting headache erupts out of nowhere.

     It feels as if my brain is imploding. Images of a building float over my eyes, the words 'ealim jadid' are being repeated again. The image of the wheel chair crosses again, although a man is accompanying it. Cassie's father.

     He injects himself with a yellowish liquid from a syringe and he does the unthinkable, he stands from his wheel chair and begins chanting the words 'ealim jadid'.

     "Jack! Look out!" Snaps me back, the headache gone and the images with it. My eyes snap to the road, I swerve right hard to avoid an overturned car with a half-crushed undead underneath it.

     "What the fuck was that, man?" Terry asks.

     "Sorry, guys, got lost in thought." I lie, thinking about what had just happened. Cassie's father, a paraplegic, stood after injecting himself with that liquid. What the fuck is going on?

    A voice, very distant, almost inaudible, but very familiar says, "I'm in your head now, Jack." The Russian. After that, everything falls silent again. No phantom images crossing my eyes, no voices, no nothing.

                                  ...

     Philadelphia is almost as bad as New York City. Cars lie abandoned or burnt to nothing but blackened remains. Stores raided for everything they have, bodies strewn about here and there. Some whole, and some not so much.

The streets, other than the carcasses of the dead are clear. No undead or living can be seen. The truck sputters, running on fumes.

"Looks like it's going to be on foot until we find another vehicle." I say, addressing the crowd. Everyone unloads and we carefully make out way through the streets.

     You never really know the meaning of the word defenseless until your smack dab in the middle of the fucking zombie apocalypse with nothing but your fists.

The silence of the walk is killing me, "So, what kind of construction work did you do, Devin?" I ask to break it.

     "Concrete, laid foundations for buildings and houses. It sucked really, long days in the burning sun, breaks didn't really come often. But, I guess it better prepared me for the heavy lifting of the apocalypse." He says, with a chuckle.

     "Where are you guys from?" I ask both Terry and Devin.

      Terry answers first, "I was born in New York, not the city, but right outside of it. Westchester to be exact. My dad got a job in Ottawa when I was little so we moved. Stayed there until I was eighteen, until I came back to New York City for college. I ended up flunking the shit out of first semester and used up all my scholarship money and material items. Eventually got stuck as a UPS driver to pay off loans that I had a acquired. Was a driver for about almost two years, that's when this all happened." He says, motioning his arms to world.

      "I was born in the Bronx." Devin speaks up, "I've always lived in New York, this is my first time even being outside of the state. My family was too poor to travel growing up, the whole reason I got into construction was because it paid well and my family needed the money."

"I know us getting to know each other may seem stupid," I explain, "but it's always good to know the people you're working with."

They nod as we turn a corner. At the end of the street is the holy grail. 'Jensen's Ammo and Supply.' We pick up the pace and make it to the store within two minutes.

One of the windows on the front of the store is busted out, dried blood splayed across the wall behind the counter, along with chunks of gray brain matter.

     I step over the window sill into the store, everyone follows suit. Slowly, we make our way through the store, checking behind the counter and doors for any undead.

"All clear," I say after checking behind the door leading to the gun range. Army green duffle bags line a wall and I snatch two off.

I throw one to Terry and the other to Devin. "Fill them with as much ammunition and spare mags as possible." They both nod and go to work.

    I spot a glass counter that displays holsters and straps for rifles and shotguns. I drop an elbow through the glass and throw every one a pistol holster, along with one for a knife.

"Everyone load up, this may be the last time we come across a find like this." The store was surprisingly stocked. Not much had been taken, which was weird. I pull a .45 ACP, similar to the one I had before off the wall and slide it into the newly attached holster.

Cassie and her mother go for a smaller caliber pistol, the 9mm. Terry spots a Glock .45 and holsters it, Devin grabs a Smith and Wesson revolver. "I knew a man of similar tastes." I say, nodding towards the gun in Devin's hands. Alyx takes a 9mm pistol also.

    I spot an AR-15, equipped with a flash-light and a select fire, with the option of full auto, three round burst, and single. I pull a strap from the display and attach it to the gun.

     Cassie pulls a semi-automatic tactical shotgun equipped with a drum mag from a display case, "Oh hell yes." She says, shouldering the weapon.

     "Language, little miss," says Cassandra, pulling an MP5 off the wall.

     "Sorry, mom."

     Terry and Devin both take M-16's from the wall, along with straps from the display case. They finish loading the bags with the required ammunition for the weapons at hand and look to me.

Alyx takes a P90, a small sub-machine gun. A weapon of Belgium origin, designed for their special forces.

     "Alright, everyone, don't shoot if you don't have to, noise, as we know, attracts the undead. And I've yet to teach you how to properly shoot. I don't want stray bullets hitting anybody." I explain.

     They all nod, "now, let's find a car and head to..." I'm cut off by the sound of an engine.

"Get down," I say, quietly. That's one of the many things I learned from the military. Don't whisper. The hissing of the "S's" makes it ten times more audible.

Everyone ducks behind cover. There's a plank of wood that runs under the register to the floor with glass on both side. I take cover behind that.

     The sound of a second engine pulls up. Fuck, Cassie is the only one these guys don't even know how to shoot. I think to myself, running the possibilities of this situation through my head.

The crunching of feet on glass can be heard as the first of the raiders walks to the door. Adrenaline starts to flow as my heart rate rises, the warrior awakening inside my soul.

The front door opens, a slight squeak in the hinges. I stand from behind the counter and train the sights on his head.

"Woah, man, I wouldn't do that if I were you." He says, he has a balding head, and a few of his teeth are missing, all the others look like mini sticks of butter, they're so yellow. He has a small head on broad shoulders. He wears black cargo pants and tall boots with a gray tank top.

"Leave. Now," is all I say. The warrior smiling his bloody smile inside, hoping he refuses.

"I could just call my boys in here and they'll gun you down, you..." that was as far as he got. I pulled the trigger to AR and sent a three round burst of bullets into his smug face. He drops forward.

"Finn!?" A yell comes from outside and multiple steps run towards the building.

Cassie looks at me through a sheet of glass next to, "stay down, I got this," I say quietly.

The door burst open a revolver coming through first. I quickly switch to full auto and light the door way up. Screams permeate from outside, bullets entering body parts. Although gunshots return into the store, splintering wood and shattering glass.

My gun clicks on empty, smoke rising from the barrel. It stings my eyes and nostrils, the smell of burnt gun powder fills the air.

    The wooden front door is splintering, cracks spreading here and there, the other window in the front of the store is shattered outwards.

     "You're gonna die mother fucker!" Comes from outside, I scan what I can see through the two bursted windows. The front of a Chevrolet truck is visible, the hat of one of the raiders lays atop the hood, a bullet hole through the front of it.

The sound of reloading can be heard. I lay the AR down on the counter, since I don't have any spare mags yet, an unholster my .45.

The head pokes from behind the cover of the truck, within seconds I have the gun aimed between his eyes and fire. His head snaps back, blood spurting from the extra hole that I put in his head.

A loud roar comes out of no where. If the Tyrannosaurus was still among the humans, that is what I would imagine it sounded like. The ground begins to shake, not violently, but enough to be felt. What the fuck?

Screams rip through the air from outside, gunshots tear through the air, but none enter the gun store. The shaking increases and another roar splits through the gunshots.

I walk to the window, curious of what has the power to shake the ground underneath me. A body of a raider goes flying past the windows. His abdomen crushed like a finished Capri-Sun pouch. His intestines bulging out of his mouth.

Gun shots continue to slice through the air, blood curdling screams follow with them.

"What's going on out there?" Devin asks, his gun shaking.

"I don't know, but stay in cover, I'm going to check it out."

Cassie stands up, "I'm going with you."

"Cassie, no, I don't know what's out there," I say. "You're the most qualified to lead this group, I need you here."

"He's right, Cass," her mother agrees.

     "Jack, please, I don't want anything to happen to you." She looks at me with pleading eyes.

     "You stay behind me and follow my every move. Do exactly as your told."

     Cassie nods, "Take care of her, Jack." Her mother says, eyeing me down.

     "I will." I say. The ground shakes even more now, the screams are starting die, they have run out of ammo, the gun shots stopped while Cassie begged to come along.

     I snap a peak out of the window. What I seen shocked me beyond words.

    It was huge, around nine and half feet tall, I'd say. It's muscles bulged, literally ripping the skin in some places. The shirt it was wearing was ripped to shreds. Pieces here and there hung loosely, the pants, I assume, it had on are completely gone, Hanes boxer briefs are all that remain.

     I snap a look again, just make sure I wasn't imagining it. The monstrosity picks up one of the raiders and smashes him into an overturned car. The raider turns into a paste from his head down to his waist.

     The beast roars and slams a gigantic fist into the side of the car and it flies into a nearby store, an alarm blares as the windows smash through.

     The warrior in me stares in awe, finally seeing something that left it speechless. "Terry, load three AR mags immediately." I say, walking to the counter to grab my assault rifle. He slides 5.56 NATO rounds into one clip and tosses it to me.

     I slide the magazine into the gun and pull the bolt back, chambering the first round. He finishes the second one, "heads up," he says, and tosses it to me.

     I put it in my pocket along with the next one he throws my way. I snap another look outside, the monster stands idol, not seeing anymore prey.

     "Are you sure about this, Cass?" I ask.

     Her voice shakes along with her body, "I'm sure."

     "Get ready." I say. How the fuck am I going to do this? I ask myself. The warrior in me reading his weapons, letting out a war cry. I swing the door open and train the gun on its head.

    The monster roars as I send rounds into its head, the bullets do little to nothing, the monster barrels towards me, I dive to the left and roll onto my knees, the monster, lacking the ability to turn on a dime, continues forward.

    I aim the gun on the back of its head as it slows. I open fire until the gun clicks empty. Cassie lets loose a barrage of slug rounds into the body of the beast, the bullets enter but don't exit. This pisses the beast off.

     It charges towards Cassie.

    "DIVE TO THE LEFT, NOW!" I scream at her, she's frozen in fear. "CASSIE, NOW!" She dives at the last second, the beast flies past her. I load my second clip and open fire.

     The monster eats the bullets as it readies its charge towards me. I continue my barrage of bullets until the last second, I dive to the right, but it snatches me at the ankle.

    It squeezes and my ankle lights on fire with pain. I scream out, firing the AR into its wrist as it raises mine to its face. Its nostrils flare as it breaths heavily in and out.

    It's breath is rancid. It's eyes are so blood shot, almost completely red, including the Iris's.

The gun clicks on empty, it squeezes my ankle tighter, the bones start to grind together.

     I drop the AR and unholster the .45 and dump the clip into its wrist. The blood rushing to my head is starting to make me light headed. I unsheathe my knife and raise and start slicing at its wrist.

     The beast raises its other arm and grabs me around my arms and torso and tightens its grip. My bones creak and crack. "FUCK!" I yell in agony.

     It's grip tightens its grip, my vision starts to go black, it's becoming hard to breathe. An engine starts somewhere near, followed by the sound of crumpling metal.

     The monster releases its grip, my vision slowly comes back and oxygen fills my lungs. I hit the ground and land on my shoulder hard.

     The monster flies into a nearby building, Cassie had rammed the Chevrolet into it. The beast roars and begins to stand up.

    "Pin it against the wall!" I scream, struggling to get to my feet. Cassie revs the engine and drives straight into the monstrosity, the bricks of the building cave as it's pushed through them.

     The beast roars and swings its gigantic arms back and forth. It struggles to get a grip on the truck to throw it off of it.

    Cassie keeps on the gas, the tires spin, turning up smoke. I sprint to the front of the truck, my entire body aching but the warrior fuels my rage.

     I hop onto the hood and avoid getting pummeled by the arms of the rampaging beast. I squirrel my way onto its shoulders. I take the knife above its head and bring the blade through its eye. It screams and roars, the warrior in me screaming even louder -- or was that me?

    I pull the blade out and shove it back in, the beast continues its rampage, slamming its fists into the hood of the truck. Cassie keeps the pedal to the floor. The right tire explodes.

    I pull the knife out and let out a war cry and pull all of my remaining power into shoving the blade into its eye socket. The blade goes deep, nothing but the end of the handle sticking out.

     The roaring slowly dies down, his rampage dulls. My vision goes blurry, the warrior in me gone. The last thing I remember is falling from his shoulders and hitting the ground. Blackness devours me.

                                ...

     "That, my good friend, was mutation 57. Our latest creation." Says a familiar Russian voice.

     Mutation 57? I think to myself in the darkness of my unconscious state.

     The Russians voice is gone and I'm left with nothing but the darkness of my unconsciousness.