DEAD FACTIONS - the Zombie War Narratives - a Novella (3 page)

Corey can only ask further “Me? What would I do?”

Thomas crosses his arms and begins to expand on the operation, “We were friends once...allies!” Corey understands he is getting somewhere but must act disinterested to gain more information, but not so disinterested as to upset the situation, “A lot has happened since then! You are not even...
(Corey hesitates a bit)..
.human now.”

“Yep, I'm nothing more than a savage!”  Even though Thomas’ physical state impairs his memory at times, there is something he does recall. “However, I am a savage that can
protect
you while you continue your journey and possibly get your
family
back!” Thomas opens the restaurant door and motions Corey in.

“No...
MY FAMILY!?!
How do you know anything about them?” Corey yells. This was not news he was prepared to hear.

Corey remains steadfastly at the entrance as Thomas gives in and enters the restaurant first hoping to win Corey's trust. Thomas continues into the somewhat barren wood-finished room, dusty and unkempt. He turns and sits facing the entrance at a desk covered with scattered papers. With his arctic-mist colored eyes, Thomas follows the long dark shadow Corey casts into the restaurant until he makes direct eye contact with the human. Thomas offers more, “Your family is what you want most. I remember them. You were close. I believe I have located them, news I thought you would appreciate.”

With some sense of mental exhaustion, Corey exclaims, “I’ve dealt with enough! I can find them on my own... Just tell me what you know!”

Thomas is pleased that he has Corey's attention. “I suggest you come in. The grunts are about to eat. You do
not
want to be out there when that happens...they tend to wander.”

Corey enters...Thomas stops him, “You’re going to need to shut the door.” Corey looks at Thomas as if he does not appreciate the direction, but he walks over to the entrance and slams the door closed with extra force.

Thomas goes back to business and begins thumbing through the numerous papers laid out on the desk in no particular order. Corey approaches Thomas.  Thomas states without looking away, “There’s food in the pantry over there. Help yourself. I have no use for it. As you can see I have some intelligence to review before we leave.”

Corey, not happy with the assumption that he is going anywhere quickly remarks, “We? Leave?!? I am not going anywhere! You were about to tell me more about my family.”

Thomas looks up and smirks, “The intelligence on your family isn't complete. We have a stop to make before we get to our primary target. I will brief you on the way.”

Corey slams his fist on the desk raising his other hand showing the drill. “NO WAY! TELL ME ABOUT MY BROTHER AND SISTER! NOW!!!” Thomas leans back in his chair, brings his hands together in front of his mouth trying not to smile ear to ear.

“At Ease Corey! Please have something to eat.” Thomas stands and turns away from Corey and approaches a window. Corey has not eaten lately and needs food. He throws some food in his bag and begins to wolf down a jar of peanut butter. Thomas sticks his fingers through the blinds and separates them to welcome in the view of what is about to happen outside. As he continues to look out the window, he offers Corey more insight. “Your family is believed to be in a facility we are about to obtain... I will require your help to achieve this. My mind is not what it used to be since I became infected...it has become cloudy. I could use one like yours...to assist me.”

Corey presses, “So, I have your word…if I assist you, you will lead me to my family.” 

“Yes.”

Thomas quickly changes the subject to the events outside. “I see the troops are feasting.” Corey approaches the window but grabs the strings to the blinds and jerks them to make the event on the other side instantly observable.

Corey's eyes have not had a chance to adjust to the strange lighting in the restaurant. Dim in areas and bright in others resulting from hanging lamps that sway to the entering draft, “Should I ask what’s for dinner?”

Thomas narrows his eyes and simply gives an excuse, “Our preferred option is in short supply.”

Corey is now able to make out an army of zombies devouring farm animals...of all types. He seems to pick up where he left off earlier with his wit, “Animals aren't in short supply?” He chuckles a bit until Thomas looks at him out of the corner of his eye.

Thomas looks back out the window with envy. His hunger is starting to get the best of him; but he knows there is a prize to be had at the Colony. As he battles the ache, he expands more on how the system operates, “The animals satisfy the troop's hunger, but I require a higher level of protein to maintain my sense of intelligence. It is my conditioning before the outbreak and exposure to the infection that makes me different...
a constant hunger, a need to lead and to control the Colony.” Thomas is in awe of himself. He appreciates his abilities and is not afraid to display his confidence.

Corey now more curious than ever states, “That’s all very interesting, but why me?” Thomas turns to Corey and leans in “I’m not a total savage. Besides, you’ve always been a risk-taker.  Just know protection is yours, as long as you stay with us as we divert to the Colony...where I believe your family is held.”

“Here we go with this Colony thing again. Damn Thomas! You've lost more than your complexion!” Corey would continue but two officers entering the restaurant interrupt him.

Thomas makes his way over to the officers and reminds them in a low tone, “Protect Corey at all costs! He is vital to the completion of this mission.”  Thomas turns away from his officers and approaches Corey, “You will go with Malcolm and Jordan. I will meet you at the vehicle.”

Corey is confused but believes that Thomas knows more than he is letting on about his family. He also thinks it is worth sticking around to find out more, just keep his guard up. The two officers direct him to a personnel carrier where they wait for further direction. A caravan of eight or so vehicles is lined up with a mass of armed infected soldiers waiting to board the carriers. They stare Corey down.

Corey wonders at what point the protection Thomas offered is in effect. He hopes it is immediately because the troops’ leering and overwhelming stench begins to sicken the young survivor. He pulls a bandanna from his back pocket to wrap over his nose and tie behind his neck to block the unpleasant odor. Unfortunately, as distasteful as their smell is to him, Corey’s scent is disturbingly appetizing to the troops.

Thomas finally appears...jumping on top of the lead military vehicle. Corey is somewhat relieved that the attention is taken off him for a moment. Thomas stands with his arms spread out, “The moment has come. We are ready to roll out! Gear up and fall into your assignments!” After the announcement, the vehicles are heard starting up. A lot of movement is seen... undead soldiers running to their positions and finalizing preparations for an obvious planned attack. Corey feels a need for his hood.

As Corey continues to stand and observe, Thomas startles him. “Get in Corey, it's time to move.” Corey gets in the carrier without an issue, quickly shutting the door. Without any delay, the carrier and the line behind it pull off…on to the first stop.

“It is important you stay close to me. No need for you to be involved in our first stop…
a minor skirmish
.” Thomas senses Corey's uneasiness. Corey opens the window slightly...hoping to clear the vehicle’s smell of decay.  Malcolm, the driver states something to Thomas sitting in the front passenger seat. Corey is unfamiliar with this dialect. He thinks to himself,
“Great, not only are they armed but they have their own damn language too.”

Corey needs more explanation. He lowers the cover on his face, “Seriously, what is this about?” Thomas stares ahead as thoughts of what he expects formulate in his mind. He smiles widely and with satisfaction, “I told you earlier about what is happening beyond the confines of your cities. There is a struggle going on among the undead! One to which you are about to be introduced…one that I plan to control.”  Corey's eyes enlarge to the sound of Thomas’ handgun, the sound of a magazine being loaded.

Thomas puts the weapon in a shoulder holster and then reaches for a sawed-off shotgun under the seat. He pulls out the shells from his breast pocket and begins to load, “You need to know that there are many types of infected wandering around aimlessly. Zombie warlords have taken notice and gathered their armies. They all want control over humanity and the ruins we now consider paradise. I am different, I can assure you.”

“Is that what you are now...a warlord?” Corey shifts a bit in his seat.

Thomas grabs the rear view mirror...turning it to bring Corey into his view, “Not HARDLY! I am a leader…natural born.
You
know that!”

Corey is not surprised by Thomas' continuing egotistical banter. He was like that most of his life. Corey chooses not to listen any longer and turns to press his head against the window looking out. He wants a moment to think.

He starts thinking about the time he came to pick up Thomas to get his first tattoo when they both were eighteen. Thomas was just weeks away from basic training and already the best solider...in his own mind.  His mom, Sandy, did not care for Corey. She considered him odd. Therefore, when Corey arrived at the house, he stayed in the car. As Thomas came out of the house, his mom gave Corey the same glazed look of uncertainty. She felt Thomas' rebelliousness was a result of being around Corey.

The previous night they had sketched an idea for a skull that was divergent from anything they had seen before. It was edgy but unfinished...using only the colors red, black and yellow. They were thinking cheap, but narly. Tats are expensive. The more colors and the more time they take, the more moolah…something of which they both had very little.

At the tattoo shop, Thomas was in the chair and Corey sat across from him looking at all the patterns and designs of a cryptic flair that layered the parlor's walls. The buzzing of the needle had a soothing and restful tone...Corey sank back in the seat and just watched the old, bald dude work on Thomas' chest. He was your stereotypical veteran. A dirty old man... he smelled, wore a sleeveless tee allowing his shoulder hair to protrude in all of its glory. He loved to talk. The old guy rambled on and on about once being a sailor and all the shit he had seen. How he had been successful with women of every nationality and was still giving discounts to the girls from the community college across the street.

Corey was an artist too...hell, he did most of the artwork for Thomas' tat. Moreover, like any young artist he was doing a lot of soul searching...what did he want to do with his unrefined talent?  He took the opportunity to ask the seasoned artist, “What is the hardest part about doing a tat?”

The buzzing stopped and the look on Thomas' face suddenly changed to absolute horror as he looked up at the old guy. Thomas tries to back out of the chair. The old man abruptly stood up and turned towards Corey. His face had grown grotesque with large fiendish eyes and fangs that projected from his mouth...He spoke in a demonic tone, “We are just outside the target!”

Corey jumps...roughly awakened in the backseat to the sound of a message coming through a communicator. “
I repeat…we are just outside the target.” 
Thomas confirms receiving the message, “Good! Remind the others of their assignments.” He then grabs the mirror again to view Corey. “I see you are awake.
Sleep,
one of the downfalls of being human. Such an opportunity you survivors provide.” Thomas and Malcolm chuckle in the front seat. Corey's temperament does not allow him to find this amusing...in fact he becomes a bit alarmed.

An impatient Corey wants answers, “Just be straight with me Thomas!”

Thomas looks out the window to his right, with some irritation, “Ultimately this is a revolution against those that did this to us…the ones that placed this infection in us and those who now stand in our way!”

Corey tries to put it together, “So this place where we are going, do they stand in your way?” Thomas had forgotten that Corey was so inquisitive, but answers nonetheless, “This is just a weapon pickup.”

Soon after, the convoy stops and parks just outside what…from a distance, looks to be a large crater. The army of undead exits their vehicles and moves to predetermined locations around the hole. Some actually move down into it. Corey gets out of the carrier and walks up to Thomas who is watching his chess pieces move into place. Thomas grins as he senses Corey's presence. He feels empowered and anticipates a checkmate.

Corey can now see into the opening...a large military base is hidden inside. Weapons of all kinds sit idle. “You are attacking them?!? Are you shitting me?”

Thomas gestures as if he is profiling the entire base with his hands. “They have the weapons we need to satisfy the bigger picture. It's their small sacrifice that will help lead to a better world.”

Corey steps in front of Thomas to gain his full attention. “I CANNOT be a part of this! My family is
everything
to me...but I will NOT take part in premeditated murder!” Corey begins to leave...

Thomas grabs his arm, “WAIT! It is NOT what it seems... GO...look closer.”

Corey looks at Thomas as if he has lost his mind. He then looks and sees some brush a little way down into the hole. He is careful and decides to move quietly towards it. Once he reaches the shrubbery, he ducks down. He sits for a minute to let things come together before he dares peer over. He looks back at Thomas who gives him a nod as if to go ahead and look. He slowly turns around and bends the brush just slightly. Corey cannot believe what he sees. It is an army regiment that is completely infected…another zombie military. Corey mutters under his breath
“Holy Shit! He isn't lying!”

He cannot help but wonder what really happened to Thomas before the infection. At the same time he thinks no one would be this determined if it were not true. The undead are actually at war with one another. But, why?  Yes, Thomas claims they want control of the lands, the weapons. It is all too much for one person to comprehend. Corey still struggles to wrap his head around it.