A Special Kind of Hell Awaits Them

April 17, 2009

“OK boys get down!” The heavily bearded man yelled out as he ran back toward the trench, away from the heavily fortified building and trailing two detonation cords behind him.

Three days ago they had met him while scavenging through the now deserted mall. While they had been looking for food, he had been on a mission to collect very specific items. At first he was reluctant to tell them what he was after, but eventually they coaxed it out of him. He needed bomb making equipment. He already had enough fertilizer to take out a city block, he just needed some detonation cords, some flare guns and a few simple electronics. Dave and Mike agreed to help in exchange for food, it was either that or continue to dodge zombies and eat rats, and they were both sick of rats.

Over the next day they loaded the equipment onto a cart, carefully following his instructions, ever weary of accidentally detonating the device. In the evening they dined on canned beans, made ‘oh so sweet’ compared to the garbage they had eaten over the last three months.

On the third day, as the sun began to wane, they wheeled the cart from his abode and set off for the tall building. As they approached, they could see that was once a large office building had been heavily fortified, inside and out, with the occasional dark shape moving across the barricaded windows.

“Alright boys, there’s a ditch about 300 yards over there” Pointing toward some burnt out cars “You get your heads down, I’m going to set this stuff up and I’ll be with you shortly”.

As the man slid into the trench he grinned and pushed the first firing cord into the detonator “Lets watch the pre-game show boys!” and twisted the detonator. With a roar the thirty flare guns they had assembled, fired, sending a multitude of colors into the night sky.

“What the hell are you doing!” shouted Dave “You’re going to attract every zombie for fifty miles!”

“That’s right boy, and when they get here I’ve got a special present for them”

Mike, wide eyed with fear could see shapes rushing around behind the dark barricaded windows.

“The bomb? You’re going to try and blow them all up?”

“God no boy, I’m going to blow the door off of that building!”

“What? Why? What’s in there?”

In the distance they could hear the moans as a thousand zombies headed toward the now falling flares. The old man smiled, the flare light illuminating a dark glint in his eyes.

“Telemarketers boys, that buildings full of Telemarketers”

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The Great Wall

August 4, 2008

The great wall had been built long ago to keep the Mongolian hordes out, to stop the largest most determined armies from entering the motherland. Now it was stopping the group from getting out of the country. Moving slowly along the walls walkway were thousands of the walking dead, ex-Peoples Army who had been stationed there to stop the infection from spreading, but had instead been some of the first to fall, doomed to patrol the wall for all eternity.

At least until the fell off the edge… as some were now doing as they saw the group. The sickening crunch of shattered bones and broken skin drifted over to the four as they worked anxiously to hook the wires into the correct terminals.

Under cover of darkness they had planted their explosives along a small section of the wall. Now as the darkness faded the some of the closer zombies had seen them, come the detonation, thousands more would come, by then though they would be long gone through the broken wall.

Chen primed the igniter, and looked up at the other three of his group. As the power built with a low whine the three nodded back at him and with a quick twist of the key Chen detonated the planted explosives.

The sound, louder than anything they had heard before, tore through their heads, sending them falling to the floor clutching their ears. As they lay there, curled on the ground dust and smoke drifted past, while pieces of dirt and stone rained down around them.

Slowly the ringing in their ears began to fade and with it they could make out new sounds. The sound of a thousand moans and the thud of feet as every zombie within ten miles began to make its way to the detonation site.

Chen and the others feverishly grabbed their bags and started running through the thick dust toward the wall. As they came closer their thoughts of freedom and safety were crushed as the realization that not only had the explosives not blown a hole clear through the wall, but they had failed to do anything other than scratch its surface.

A thousand years of stone and history looked down at the four and watched as the first zombie reached the group.