Night of the Nazi Zombies (17 page)

Smith finally found a single container that whilst broken, was slightly different to the rest.
 
This one contained fragments of ripped clothing.
 
It was as if somebody had been inside it and broken their way out.
 
He thought for a moment then looked at the inside in more detail; the wood was covered in scratch marks and blood.
 

He spoke quietly under his breath, “Not good.”

He left the containers and joined Lewis at the building at the far end.
 
The door was locked and Lewis was busy fiddling with a piece of metal trying to force it open.
 
With a dull clunk the lock popped open and the two men went in.
 
Inside it comprised of a long corridor with three small rooms at one side and a room at the end of the corridor.
 
Above each door was a small glass window.
 
Lewis clicked open the first door and Smith moved in slowly.
 
The window provided a small amount of light; luckily there were windows opposite the door so the room was surprisingly well lit.
 
There were three large desks and lots of shelves containing fluids and what looked like samples.
 
Smith moved forward and looked at the first one; it had the usual toxic symbol on the front and had a thick, slime type substance inside.
 
Alongside the glass vessel were small glass tubes, slightly smaller than test tubes, each filled with what looked like the substance.
 
Smith pointed to them to Lewis could and also pointed to his bag.
 
Lewis started loading items into the bag, being careful not to break anything.

From what Smith could see it looked like this base was some kind of research centre, though he was surprised at the lack of security.
 
Maybe the building was more a delivery place, where people came to collect something, maybe even to be given doses of this stuff.
 
Smith shivered at the thought, what could they be up to?

The two men moved to the next room that featured the same layout, but this time the shelves were bare of anything resembling the glass containers with the fluid.
 
There were a large number of books and reports though.
 
Smith had a quick flick through them; they appeared to be medical journals and books on human and cattle biology.
 
He took a few of the reports but left the books; they were heavy and didn’t seem to be particularly useful.
 
The third room was full of dusty boxes and containers, mainly with used glass containers in them along with spare paper and supplies, hardly anything the soldiers could make use of.
 
All that was left was the room at the end of the corridor.
 
Moving close to the door it was clear that this room was different in some way.
 
The handle and lock were not the same as the other rooms and there were no windows to provide any light inside.
 

In the distance they heard the sound of gunfire, Smith instantly recognised it as short bursts from a submachine gun.
 
The other team must have run into trouble, they needed to leave, and fast.
 
Without pausing Smith slammed his boot into the door and with one meaty kick simply smashed it open.
 
The two men stood in shock at what they saw.
 
The room was lit by a small window in the centre of the ceiling and underneath it, chained to the floor was a completely naked man.
 
This man was no ordinary man though.
 
He was one of those things, the creatures that had been attacking them.
 
Along his arms and chest were metal fittings that had been stitched into his flesh, almost as if they were intended for use with cannulas, the flexible tubes that may be inserted to deliver medication or drain fluid. The creature, like the others they had seen, had a quantity of a vile, blood like substance dripping from its mouth.
 
It saw the two men and opened its jaw wide and howled in the awful groaning sound they were now very familiar with.
 
Smith told Lewis to leave the building and he followed closely behind.
 
As he left the room he turned around and fired a single 9mm shot into the creature’s head.
 
It snapped backwards and crumpled to the ground with a sigh.
 
The two left and emerged into the yard at the centre of the compound.
 

Smith started running, shouting as he ran.

“Come on, we need to get back!”
 

They ran past the gate and pillbox and jumped down into the ditch, making their way to Gardner who was still watching them and the area for hostiles.

* * *

The inside of the church was now a hive of activity with both the soldiers and now seven survivors from the village, all sheltering.
 
The civilians had been explaining what had happened to them over the last two days to Madeleine, whilst she then translated to Captain Scott.
 
So far the survivors had brought several keys facts to light.
 
The first was that these creatures had been in the area for at least two days and that that had some specific attributes.
 
They were drawn to sound and light, which he had already worked out, but it was good to get confirmation.
 
More worrying though, was that these things only turned on you after they had already been killed or had died from some other natural causes.
 
The second thing was that they had appeared shortly after some kind of incident at the base.
 
According to one of the old men the base had been there for several months and the Germans had been using it to move something to depots around the countryside.
 
After the incident two days ago nobody that left the village had returned, apart from these creatures.
 
It seemed from what they told him that this area right up to and probably including the Orne River Bridge, was likely to be exposed to these creatures.

Word came from the tower that Jones was approaching with another survivor.
 
The surprised soldiers opened the door and stopped what they were doing as they watched Jones enter the church, closely followed by Wilks and a German soldier.
 
Jones was out of breath and had to pause for a moment whilst he took in air, he held onto one of the pews for a few seconds.
 
Captain Scott approached him cautiously whilst a few of the soldiers pointed their weapons at the German.

Jones spoke up, “Sir, we found him in the house; it looks like those things were after him.
 
I don’t think he’s a problem.
 
He doesn’t speak English though.”

With a gesture from his hand, Harris stepped forward and checked the German for weapons.
 
The soldier, sensing the danger of the situation raised his hands and turned to help Harris.
 
He shrugged after confirming he had no weapons.

Captain Scott stepped up to the German, eyeing him carefully, assessing him as best he could.
 
Everything he knew told him this man wasn’t a threat but he had to be sure.

He asked the German if he knew where what was happening.

“Mein Name ist Captain Scott.
 
Ich bin von der 101st Airborne Division.
 
Weißt du, was ist hier passiert?”
 

The German looked a little confused at what he had to say, he paused and then spoke, “Die Untoten?”

Harris, having no idea what was going on interrupted, “Unter what?”

Captain Scott beckoned the German to continue, “He asked if we wanted to know about the undead,” added Scott.

The soldier continued in German, explaining to the Captain as much as he knew.
 
According to him his unit from the Ost-Battalion had been stationed further north at a small barracks, halfway to the bridge.
 
Several nights previously there had been news of a problem at the base in this area and they had been sent to investigate.
 
They were met by officers from the SS and told where they had to go.
 
Apparently when the Germans arrived in several trucks at the base they found it empty.
 
That’s when they were attacked by the creatures waiting in the containers.

After the German finished his explanation he slumped down, obviously physically and mentally exhausted from his experience.
 
Captain Scott put his chin in his hand and muttered to himself.

 
“We’ve got a big, big problem.”

Steiner had taken refuge in an outbuilding near the farmhouse that he’d found.
 
The building was small but it did have a solid roof and four ramshackle walls.
 
The only real problem was the lack of a door so he kept in the corner, safely out of sight.
 
For now he couldn’t be seen and he was dry and out of the cold.
 

In the distance there had been sporadic shooting going on for several hours, but now it seemed to have quietened down.
 
He assumed the Allies must have started their much awaited invasion of France.
 
Either that or it was another one of those resistance groups trying to make a statement.
 
Steiner really couldn’t give a damn either way.
 
He’d already spent months fighting the Soviets in the East only to end up sent to the West in disgrace.
 
To make matters worse he’d been stationed to a unit made up of soldiers from many of the places he’d been fighting.
 
His unit was known the Ost Ballation, these were battalion size formations that wore German uniforms and equipment and were fully integrated into larger German units.
 

Right now Steiner was almost happy to just have his own company for a change.
 
He wasn’t popular in his new unit and this almost made a pleasant change.
 
What he didn’t like though was the pounding in his head from his drinking.
 
With no water he was dehydrated and now suffering from a substantial headache that felt like somebody was inside his head and pounding away at his skull with a hammer!
 

Steiner had been sat there safe and dry for some time now and it was starting to drive him mad!
 
It was time to leave the shelter; he was hungry and had little ammunition for the PPSh-41 if he hit trouble.
 
He needed to get back to his unit and quickly.
 
The question though was which direction to head in?
 
He could head east to the village and the church, where there seemed to be something going on, or he could head north to the base.
 
He went outside and looked all around.
 
The road continued back to the base he’d left, more worrying though was that in the direction he could make out more of those staggering monsters.
 
It looked like they weren’t heading for him, but it certainly made that way far too dangerous.
 
Of course, the benefit of taking that road would be that there were friendly forces there as well as weapons, ammunition, food and more important than anything else right now, water to fix the dehydration!
 
Dying, whilst trying to get a drink, wasn’t particularly appealing though.

Looking back at the village he considered the option.
 
He’d visited the village several times and knew it contained a number of houses, various shops and of course the church.
 
Certainly a place occupied by actual people was substantially better than dying in the open.
 
The village offering a population that wasn’t trying to bite him seemed a far less foul option than succumbing to those animals out there.
 
He walked back into the shelter and checked his equipment.
 
One Soviet submachine gun and what was left in its drum magazine.
 
He reached down to his ankle, lifting up his trouser leg to reveal a small boot knife.
 
He took it out and examined the blade.
 
The condition was good, probably because it had seen so little use.
 
Putting it back he hoped it wouldn’t come to the point where it would have to be used in anger.
 
With the knife put away he picked up his pack and weapon and then walked out towards the lightly used path across the fields.
 
Looking in the two directions he made up his mind; the village was his destination and he needed to leave this area quickly.
 
He would take a slight detour that would avoid the crashed tank from earlier; he didn’t want to bump into anything with bleeding teeth and the sight of the bodies from the previous battle, if you could call it that, was not something he wanted to see again in a hurry.

* * *

Smith could see the church in the distance, now only about two minutes running distance from his current position.
 
He’d headed back on a slightly different route and this meant they would approach the crashed tank at some point soon.
 
The gunfire that he’d heard before had stopped, but he could hear noise coming from the church.
 
Luckily it sounded like tools or equipment being moved rather than fighting.
 
At least he hoped that is what it was.
 
The three men kept going, Smith leading and the other two following in a wide spaced column.
 
As they reached a low ridge Smith ducked down and waited for the other two to catch up.

Along the other side of the ridge was a small field, bordered by a low wall which the tank had ploughed into.
 
With a brief signal the three crept forward, Smith moving to the tank, the other two stopping short and providing cover.
 
Once Smith reached the tank he found the stink of decaying corpses.
 
He turned and covered his face from the stench.
 
Fighting the urge to retch he moved closer, stepping carefully to avoid the mangled bodies.
 
They had all been killed by a substantial amount of gunfire and the evidence of the bullet casings was all around the tank.
 
He climbed up onto the tank and peeked inside the turret, there was another body inside but nothing unusual, well, nothing more unusual than what was outside.
 
He jumped down, narrowly avoiding landing on a splattered hand.
 
He moved out into the road and towards the other side.