Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Chapter 36 End or Beginning?
Parkson and her young charge came to the end of their parcour. They were only some 30 meters from the exit through the sewer when Alice made them stop. Facing them, silently and patiently were over 40 Z's. The plan was obvious: wait until Parkson opened the door or until who ever controlled them decided that time was up.
Parkson moved back with Yukio until they were hidden from the Z's.
- So, here we are. There are not many options. We wait until we have a better idea or we kill ourselves. We cannot allow the Z's to go in Tokyo under any circumstances. Do you understand?
- I do. While we wait for the Kami to make their wisdom known to us, would you mind telling me how you became like me?
Parkson took some time to formulate her answer. Then, she explained about the trip to the beach, the attack on the family and her surviving. Then, drawn by this young girl not unlike she had been years ago, she explained how she had struggled to be accepted in a society that was not only a secret but also highly elitist.
- You have to remember that at that time, women did not have the right to vote. Or only in some rare country. Imagine now a situation where Men are the leaders and some of them have been for centuries. It makes for a long debate until any changes can be accepted. There was one woman who was in their mist and who fought with the best of them. Her name was Chloe and she was from Greece. She fought with a spear, bow and arrows and a Falcate, the Greek sword. She was truly magnificent. And I was there, filled to the brim with anger, rage and an almost suicidal desire to fight.
You have to understand, I sought solace for my guilt. I felt responsible for the death of the young ones. Why should I survive and they die? It was so unfair! I felt…unclean and unworthy of my life. So, here I was, pestering the teachers to let me learn to fight and after a month, they let me join the men on the training course. But I was reckless. I sought to learn to fight but I forgot…I knowingly put my friends in jeopardy. I did not do anything to hold my blows; I used underhand techniques and did whatever I could to win.
Then, after two or three months, while I was practicing in the training court, she came. She came in the gym wearing combat fatigue. Her brown hairs were gathered in a tail on her back and she wore a silver pendent with a moon speared with a sword. She ignored me and started practicing. I was stunned by her grace, speed and power. Where I was stumbling, she was nimble. Where I screamed with rage, she was deadly silent. Where I looked like a berserker, erm…a barbarian full of rage if you prefer. So, where I looked like a berserker, she was calm and poised. I was…shamed. Here was a woman who did was everything I wanted to be but who refused to let anger rule her world. I moved to talk to her but she kept ignoring me. When I got close, she moved away. I followed her through the gym and finally, getting tired of the game, I stepped in her swing. I looked at her grey eyes as her blade moved toward my neck. I almost smiled, thinking that at least, the end was here. But, with a silent snarl, she held her blade and stopped before slicing my throat and decapitating me. Her eyes held nothing but contempt. Still keeping silence, she started to put away her weapons. I was shocked. Here was another woman, exactly what I was hopping and wishing to be. Obviously respected, accepted in this Male directed world while I had to struggle just to be allowed to learn the basics. I became angry. Which was not too hard in my state. I moved toward her and started yelling at her: “Who do you think you are? We are the only females here and you dare ignore me?” I then made a very stupid move. I Punched her.
Alice chuckled, remembering the scene. I was way too slow, uncoordinated and over all under-trained to be able to land a blow on her. She side stepped me, caught my wrist in her hand, moved behind me and with a sharp twist, sent me flying and crashing on the floor. I got up as fast as I could and launched a barrage of punches and kicks. None of them even came close to her. She totally dominated me. When I punched, she blocked, slapped and overall made it impossible for me to hit her.
When I kicked, she sidestepped, blocked and threw me on the floor without even breaking a sweat. It was humiliating and mortifying. But I could not stop myself. I tried and tried until I lay exhausted on the floor. Then, to my surprise, I started crying. I was lying on the floor, in a tangle unable to move and unwilling to do so and tears were flowing from my eyes like the Niagara’s snow melt. I felt a hand on my head and a compassionate voice spoke to me: “Let it out. Let it all out. You are not to blame for what happened and you could not have done anything to save them. It wasn’t your fault.
I cried harder. I felt that my heart would explode from the pain. I wanted so much to die. But the arms holding me tight would not let me go. The voice kept saying soothing things to me. Finally, I managed to get a hold of myself and the tears stopped. I laid there, resting in her arms totally spent by my tears. I felt a bit better and finally moved away. Still holding my hand, she smiled at me. Without a word, we left the gym and she took me to eat. We talked a lot. She became my teacher, my friend and eventually, with her help, I let go of the anger and hatred. It took a long time, but I finally made peace with who I was and what I had became.
Where is chloe now? Asked Yukio.
She is dead. She died 30 some years ago in a fire. There were humans trapped with Z’s and some idiot shot an incendiary grenade. Chloe tried to help the survivors but she never made it out and the whole building burned to the ground. We were in India. Fire there was a disaster. No water fountain to help the firefighters, streets to small to let the trucks pass, it destroyed two third of the city before it was contained.
What happened to the one who sent the grenade?
He… let’s forget this. Now that you know where I’m from, what I went through, I only want to offer you my help. Right now, you are still not processing everything that happened to you and the fact that there are monsters right that way makes it harder for us to…
Parkson stopped talking. Something had happened. She could feel it. Yukio turned her head so their eyes met and she too had felt it. “It’s the Kami. They are telling us to make our move.” Without hesitating, she grabbed Parkson and made it to the exit point. There, the Z’s were in a kind of fit. They shook on place. Some tried to raise their gun’s but were stopped by their own body. Other simply stared at the far wall. None of them was able to do much harm as Alice and Yukio made their way to the exit. The young Japanese girl pressed for more speed arguing that the Kami would not be able to contain their enemy for long. Just when Alice thought that her body yould simply crumble under the strain, they reached the extraction point and closed the heavy steel doors behind them. As the door locked with a sharp “click” sound and medics helped them lay down on stretchers, a wail of hatred rose behind them. Obviously, they had made it out alive to the disappointment of whoever controlled these Zombies. Now, with everyone safely out, the counter measure could be applied.
As they left the train station on a chopper, a bright white light shown through the dusk. It blinded the two women and a sound like a strong wind was heard. Where once stood the train station there was nothing. A huge crater the size of the station with smoke rising was all that remained. Alice rested her head on the pillow and smiled to Yukio. Her first true smile in a long long time. Well, it looks like we will be together for a while, it you want to? Yukio’s answer was to hold her hand. They made the voyage that way, each taking comfort in the other’s presence.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Chapter 35 Trouble in Japan
Being faced with Z’s in a confined space is everyone’s worst nightmare, well ok. Everyone who has had to deal with Zombies, point conceded. Still, being faced with youngsters changed in Z’s is bad. Being up close and personal is way worst. Her assault rifle was practically useless in theses vents and whoever had set the trap had done so with this in mind.
Thinking fast, Parkson took her breast knife and waited until the first one had his face near her hand to strike it straight in the eye. Without stopping, to think too much about it, she crawled over his body to find another one already reaching for her. It was bad. Killing it, she glanced behind and was appealed to see a toddler, probably 2 or 3 years old grabbing her right boot and pulling itself upward toward the unprotected calve. She had two choices: 1 was to get bitten and keep to the vent regardless of the consequences. They could probably patch her up at HQ. The second was less painful but equally dangerous: going out from the vent and making a dash for it. The decision was made for her when the combined weight of her, the Z’s and the not that strong wire made the whole contraption give up and crash on the floor.
Rising as fast as she could, Parkson found herself surrounded by mini Z’s and some bigger one. Dispatching the ones right next to her with the butt of her riffle, she glanced at her GPS and started moving as fast as she could without making undue noise. She was one floor up her goal and half the station away. Using her comlink, Parkson called for some distraction so the diversion would override whatever instruction the Z’s might have in their limited brain.
Five or six seconds later, she heard and felt and explosion and some crowd cheering. She smiled. Z’s would be attacked by the loud noise and the human voices would trigger their hinter reflex. Nicely done. Now, with only 1 spare clip, approximately 12 rounds in her current clip, she had to rely on her speed and some fancy foot work. She guessed that she would need every bullet getting out of there with her charge intact. She used a special combination of Parcour and Kukri to jump, tumble, slice, behead and kill as much Z’s as possible while keeping moving at top speed.
Using walls, hangings, rails, stairs and even Z’s, she reached the stairs where she stopped cold. Down and waiting for her were the security force. Each one of them was armed and said weapon was aimed directly at her. This time, Parkson was not so nimble. While she avoided most of the bullets, she was still hit twice. Once in the stomach and the other one way more troublesome, right through her left thigh. That would slow her down. And even worse, draw the Zombie to her. But she had been prepared and would not give-up.
Rolling quickly on her side, she threw a special grenade: the Z-99. This little black and red American football shaped piece of steel had been devised on an Aztec design of their frond munitions. The size was bigger of course and could be thrown either the classic way or the football way. The first method simply consisted at throwing it in the general direction and let it explode. The second one was for more precise attack and asked for a lot more precision and practice. One could even put it in a traditional grenade launcher. It would go once and an half the distance of a traditional grenade. But the very amazing thing about the device was that it was set to send most of its offensive charge upward thus augmenting the chances of red hot shrapnel’s finding their way to the brain. Using the first of only 3, Parker threw it at the mini swarm of Z’s preventing her from going down. Then, while pieces of dead corpses ran around and on her, she checked her injury. It was bad but the muscle fibers would be able to hold her weight. She did not feel pain as much as discomfort, being dead herself.
Peaking downstairs, she saw that the way was clear for now. Using her riffle as a crutch, she started down the stairs when she heard a soft voice calling: “Overhear! Quick! They can’t get in and you can look at your injury.” Surprised, Parkson saw a young girl, black hair disheveled, her face stained by tears and dirt. She was beckoning to Parkson and showing her the surprisingly secure hiding place she had.
She had moved from her original hiding place, probably attracted by all the noise and commotion. She had moved instead to a concession store. But this store had steel shutters held down by a series of chains who, when put together were the size of a big male thumb. She had obviously gotten the keys from the severed arm near the gate who still had the ring around one of its bloated finger. She motioned again and her eyes grew wide in alarm. Looking behind her, Parkson saw that she had not destroyed every Z and some were back with a vengeance. Half running half limping, she made it to the safe hole with seconds to spare. Enough to help the young girl put the chain back in place.
Then, while the Z’s where groaning, moaning and rattling the shutters, she introduced herself while taking care of her injury and giving a status report to HQ. Once everything had been taken care of, Alice turned to the girl who, in typical Japanese fashion had waited for her to be ready to talk. Tell me, Yukio…may I call you Yukio? Thank’s, so tell me. How much did they tell you about your condition? What would happen to you?
- They…they told me I was sick, that I could never see my family again and that I would have to leave the country. I was…unclean and…and…
And the poor 16 year old girl dissolved in tears. Alice, sighing, held her in her arms and remembered her own “coming of age”. It had been a lot harder for her since Zombies were not common knowledge at her time. But like Yukio now, she had had a friend who had made her promise to do the same as her if ever she was in the same situation.
- It’s ok honey, I understand. First, you have you understand that you are not unclean. You are lethal. There is a huge difference. Your very existence put’s people in danger of dying. But, like me, you have the potential to become much more. To help other so they will not become infected or forced to leave their loved ones. But first, we have to leave this place alive. In about 2 hours, a small tactical weapon will be unleashed on this station destroying everything in it down to the very last levels. And that’s with us in it. So, we have to get out of here. And the only way is through the vents but they are trapped. The only other way is through the sewages. Can you do this with me? Do you have the will in you to live a life of rejection, forgoing everything you ever knew and everyone who knew you? If you do not, I will kill you right now and leave you in peace.
The girl sat in the traditional Japanese way, legs under her and thought. Alice could almost see the thoughts coming and going in her mind. Then, the girl smiled a little and said in a clear and surprisingly strong voice: “After all you have done to help me, it would not be honorable for me to let you down. And the kami of the wind told me he would be waiting for me in Canada. So, down we go”.
A bit surprised, Alice nodded and they started to prepare and plan for the trek.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Trouble in Japan part 3
Note: the equation here is part of a real class thought in Ottawa. For more information go to:
P. Munz, I. Hudea, J. Imad and R.J. Smith? When zombies attack!: Mathematical modelling of an outbreak of zombie infection (Infectious Disease Modelling Research Progress 2009, in: J.M. Tchuenche and C. Chiyaka, eds, pp133-150).
Alice stood there for an instant before exploding in action. Moving forward she drew her Kukri in a smooth motion and an instant had removed the head from the Z’s shoulder. In the next, she punched through the right temple and destroyed the brain before it had had a chance to hit the floor.
Twisting on one leg, keeping perfect balance, she saw to her utter dismay another Zombie moving slowly toward her with another piece of paper. On it was written: (ßƝ) (S/Ɲ)Z = ßSZ . Alice froze in shock. It was the infamous equation of PHD Robert Smith? (yes, the question mark is part of his name) a mathematician who had used zombies as a mean to explain to his students the way that a zombie invasion would be unstoppable. It was a lot more complex than that in fact but the reality remained: humanity was doomed. And whoever controlled these Z’s knew about his work and had decided to put his theories to the test. Which meant that everything that had happened in the last year or so was part of a bigger and more sinister plan than originally believed. The Bringers of Light were not just a bunch of sadistic bastard bent on anarchy and destruction. They were a force to be recorded with. And it told her that they were bent on the destruction of humanity. Being a science officer among her various formations meant that Alice knew the equation signification: there would come a time, very soon when humans would be dislodged as the main characters on Earth, to be replaced by Z’s. Following this equation, it was inevitable.
This realization did nothing to help the little girl frighten and hiding in a closet. She had to get to her and save her. So, she changed her strategy. Putting her blade away, she took her assault rifle and its silencer and started shooting Z’s in the head as fast as she could. She had four clips with 35 shells in them plus one already in place on the weapon. She could to a lot of damage and maybe even reach her target.
Killing Z,s was always a pleasure but know, she was in a hurry so she forgo her pleasure and went for the perfect kill. Moving at a steady pace, she reached her destination and used a little contraption as a step to reach the air vent. There she was faced with a problem, the screws were rusted and she might not have time to lube them if she was to make it out alive.
Taking an ultra small plasma torch, she simply melted them and removed the vent. Then, she climbed in it and pulled a small string attached to the bench, collapsing it and preventing Z’s to reach her. She used a magnet attached to it to fix it on the vent wall, making certain that she could go back the way she had come if she needed to.
Using her com-link, she warned Control of the situation and of the implication of the message sent her way by the enemy. While doing so, she kept moving forward, crawling in the narrow space. On her right wrist, a small special GPS gave her exact position as well as the schematics of the layout of the vents and the rooms under her. She had made good progress, reaching an intersection when she heard a noise. Shining a light to her left, she saw a small child reaching for her. Its brown eyes expressionless and its mouth open in a small groan. From her right she could hear shuffling sounds and more coming from behind her. Somehow, her day had gotten from bad to worst.
P. Munz, I. Hudea, J. Imad and R.J. Smith? When zombies attack!: Mathematical modelling of an outbreak of zombie infection (Infectious Disease Modelling Research Progress 2009, in: J.M. Tchuenche and C. Chiyaka, eds, pp133-150).
Alice stood there for an instant before exploding in action. Moving forward she drew her Kukri in a smooth motion and an instant had removed the head from the Z’s shoulder. In the next, she punched through the right temple and destroyed the brain before it had had a chance to hit the floor.
Twisting on one leg, keeping perfect balance, she saw to her utter dismay another Zombie moving slowly toward her with another piece of paper. On it was written: (ßƝ) (S/Ɲ)Z = ßSZ . Alice froze in shock. It was the infamous equation of PHD Robert Smith? (yes, the question mark is part of his name) a mathematician who had used zombies as a mean to explain to his students the way that a zombie invasion would be unstoppable. It was a lot more complex than that in fact but the reality remained: humanity was doomed. And whoever controlled these Z’s knew about his work and had decided to put his theories to the test. Which meant that everything that had happened in the last year or so was part of a bigger and more sinister plan than originally believed. The Bringers of Light were not just a bunch of sadistic bastard bent on anarchy and destruction. They were a force to be recorded with. And it told her that they were bent on the destruction of humanity. Being a science officer among her various formations meant that Alice knew the equation signification: there would come a time, very soon when humans would be dislodged as the main characters on Earth, to be replaced by Z’s. Following this equation, it was inevitable.
This realization did nothing to help the little girl frighten and hiding in a closet. She had to get to her and save her. So, she changed her strategy. Putting her blade away, she took her assault rifle and its silencer and started shooting Z’s in the head as fast as she could. She had four clips with 35 shells in them plus one already in place on the weapon. She could to a lot of damage and maybe even reach her target.
Killing Z,s was always a pleasure but know, she was in a hurry so she forgo her pleasure and went for the perfect kill. Moving at a steady pace, she reached her destination and used a little contraption as a step to reach the air vent. There she was faced with a problem, the screws were rusted and she might not have time to lube them if she was to make it out alive.
Taking an ultra small plasma torch, she simply melted them and removed the vent. Then, she climbed in it and pulled a small string attached to the bench, collapsing it and preventing Z’s to reach her. She used a magnet attached to it to fix it on the vent wall, making certain that she could go back the way she had come if she needed to.
Using her com-link, she warned Control of the situation and of the implication of the message sent her way by the enemy. While doing so, she kept moving forward, crawling in the narrow space. On her right wrist, a small special GPS gave her exact position as well as the schematics of the layout of the vents and the rooms under her. She had made good progress, reaching an intersection when she heard a noise. Shining a light to her left, she saw a small child reaching for her. Its brown eyes expressionless and its mouth open in a small groan. From her right she could hear shuffling sounds and more coming from behind her. Somehow, her day had gotten from bad to worst.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Chapter 33 Trouble in Japan part 2
When Alice got to Tokyo train station, she was amazed by it. The Yamagata Shinkansen was still in full view and the moans of the Z’s were audible in the silence of the evacuated area. But the truly amazing thing was the 9 foot high steel fence. Not something with beehive steel links between weak beams of steel. No. It was a full plated fence with half a foot steel beams to make certain that no human or Zombie could get through it. Every 5 meters, snipers could take place on specially designed platform that looked like something a hunter would put up a tree to wait for his prey. But no one manned them. The invasion had been too throughout and fast for the army to get in place. This was designed to protect people inside from things outside.
Alice, wearing her familiar uniform and glad to be in it checked her weapons. Guns, Kukris and everything else was in place. A special enzyme had been recently developed by their labs to mask the smell and make her invisible to the Z’s. At least, those who used their nose to hunt. She walked to Kenjiro and looked at him in the eyes.
-If…scratch that. When I get out of here, you will swear to never write about Z’s ever. And if I find myself the star of another movie, I will personally hunt you down and cut your balls. Do I make myself clear?
Kenjiro simply looked her in the eyes and nodded. There was nothing to say. It was not a game anymore. Reality had caught up with him and had bitten hard. But, with some help, things would go well. If not, he had a gun hidden and…well. He hopped it would not have to get there.
Parkson walked to the fence and climbed the rope ladder to the top. There, she let if fall on the other side and started to go down. Now the true test began: would the new enzyme work? So far, not a single moan of recognition had been uttered. Things were looking good. Still. It would not hurt to be ready. Pausing in the middle of the descend, she loaded a shell and released the safety on her special sheaths for her trusted Kukri. In the courtyard, dozens of Z’s were shoveling around, moaning and snapping their empty jaws at the wind, feeling preys near but never near enough. Hunger, an insatiable hunger was their only felling. Nothing even remotely human was left in these brains. Already, their eyes had that milky look of being exposed to the wind for too long without blinking. The surface was scratched by the myriad of particles and pollution in the wind.
Moving slowly but never stopping in one place for too long, Parkson made it to the main door of the station. There, lying on the floor in a plastic bag was a picture of a family. A woman, a man and a teenage boy were all smiling at the camera. Weighting it down was a cell phone. Taking the picture carfully, she turned it and saw a message written behind it: “To my dear husband, I am sorry I could not come back to you. I love you and hope you will remember me as I was, not as I will be. To my son, become a man I could be proud of. I love you more than I ever could tell you.”
Placing it down, Parkson saw the lifeless eyes of a woman, the same one shown in the picture. She had found a screwdriver and had put it trough her brain entering it by her right temple. Her death had been fast at least. She saw other suicides and some unlucky ones. The unlucky were the one who had missed and died later from their wounds. One had his throat opened almost to his carotid but he had obviously missed it and died then rose to take his place, a macabre farce in a macabre circus of the dead. Knowing the enzyme would not last forever, Parkson picked up her pace and made for the stairs when she noticed one zombie standing there, a pen in his hands and a block of paper ready. Seeing her looking at him, he smiled and wrote something on a sheet of paper. Ripping it out, he lifted his arm, holding the sheet for Parkson. Taking a tentative step, she quicly took the piece of paper and read it with one eye, nervous. On it, only 6 words: Welcome to my play ground. T.B.L
Alice, wearing her familiar uniform and glad to be in it checked her weapons. Guns, Kukris and everything else was in place. A special enzyme had been recently developed by their labs to mask the smell and make her invisible to the Z’s. At least, those who used their nose to hunt. She walked to Kenjiro and looked at him in the eyes.
-If…scratch that. When I get out of here, you will swear to never write about Z’s ever. And if I find myself the star of another movie, I will personally hunt you down and cut your balls. Do I make myself clear?
Kenjiro simply looked her in the eyes and nodded. There was nothing to say. It was not a game anymore. Reality had caught up with him and had bitten hard. But, with some help, things would go well. If not, he had a gun hidden and…well. He hopped it would not have to get there.
Parkson walked to the fence and climbed the rope ladder to the top. There, she let if fall on the other side and started to go down. Now the true test began: would the new enzyme work? So far, not a single moan of recognition had been uttered. Things were looking good. Still. It would not hurt to be ready. Pausing in the middle of the descend, she loaded a shell and released the safety on her special sheaths for her trusted Kukri. In the courtyard, dozens of Z’s were shoveling around, moaning and snapping their empty jaws at the wind, feeling preys near but never near enough. Hunger, an insatiable hunger was their only felling. Nothing even remotely human was left in these brains. Already, their eyes had that milky look of being exposed to the wind for too long without blinking. The surface was scratched by the myriad of particles and pollution in the wind.
Moving slowly but never stopping in one place for too long, Parkson made it to the main door of the station. There, lying on the floor in a plastic bag was a picture of a family. A woman, a man and a teenage boy were all smiling at the camera. Weighting it down was a cell phone. Taking the picture carfully, she turned it and saw a message written behind it: “To my dear husband, I am sorry I could not come back to you. I love you and hope you will remember me as I was, not as I will be. To my son, become a man I could be proud of. I love you more than I ever could tell you.”
Placing it down, Parkson saw the lifeless eyes of a woman, the same one shown in the picture. She had found a screwdriver and had put it trough her brain entering it by her right temple. Her death had been fast at least. She saw other suicides and some unlucky ones. The unlucky were the one who had missed and died later from their wounds. One had his throat opened almost to his carotid but he had obviously missed it and died then rose to take his place, a macabre farce in a macabre circus of the dead. Knowing the enzyme would not last forever, Parkson picked up her pace and made for the stairs when she noticed one zombie standing there, a pen in his hands and a block of paper ready. Seeing her looking at him, he smiled and wrote something on a sheet of paper. Ripping it out, he lifted his arm, holding the sheet for Parkson. Taking a tentative step, she quicly took the piece of paper and read it with one eye, nervous. On it, only 6 words: Welcome to my play ground. T.B.L
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Chapter 32 Trouble in Japan
Alice stood there, angry and ready to take on some of that anger on the Japanese guy sitting on his butt. The four body guard suddenly appearing in front of her taking various Karate fighting stances made her smile. At least, some action to vent her frustration. Alas, it was not to be. From above her, red dot appeared on each of the four men. Some on their forehead, some on their hearts and other trailing on the floor to get their attention before stopping at their crouch. That got their attention all right. They stopped in their track and Alice sighed.
Kenjiro Tanaka stood up and made a hand gesture to which his men obeyed in silence, taking back their place in the background. Alice raised a hand and the snipers hiding in the upper level of the auditorium turned off their laser sights.
- Blease, gouh habe to listen to be!!! We need your helb!!!
With his broken nose, Kenjiro was even harder to understand but Alice new enough about the man to at least take the time to listen to him. She made an other motion with her hand and her aid brought the little group to her room where they would be able to talk.
After cleaning the blood, replacing the nose in its axis and giving refreshment to everyone, Alice sat on a chair and listened to Kenjiro’s story. Since the Zombies were public knowledge, Japan had made enormous efforts to upgrade the security of their public transportation. Airports were guarded and each plane was searched for sign of an infected. The same with the various harbors. Every train and metro station in the country had been equipped with Zombie fences. These were to prevent Zombies from getting out off a train or the metro and swarm a city. As an added protection, each station could become locked down to prevent anyone from entering or leaving it.
3 days ago, a speed train had had trouble and had had to make frequent stops. Soon, the police, the army and family members of the people on the train received frantic calls about crazy people biting others and looking sick. After the fourth call, they had looked the train and made it go to Tokyo Station, the most fortified of all Japan. There, the camera had showed around 300 people and 35 Z’s. Everyone was infected. They had had no choice but to initiate a lock down. The poor director of the station had evacuated everyone and had done the lock down himself. The, had performed Harakiri. His only son had been on that train.
They now had over 300 Z’s inside Tokyo and had had to prevent people from freeing them. But it was not why he was here. A girl of 16, Yukio Suzuki was still alive. She had been bitten but after the incubation period, had started to write to her family. She was hidden in a small broom closet and had escape notice so far. But...they needed an expert to get in, get her out and take her out of the country. The government had blocked cell phone in and out of the station so she could only contact government officials but the Kyonshi Task Force commander had asked for her to personally take a team there, clean up the mess and rescue the girl. That’s why he was here. To ask for her help.
- But why me? Asked Alice
- Because, you are the only one I know who ever did survive such a mission. And this girl needs all the help and support one of her kind can offer her… and because she is my niece.
Kenjiro Tanaka stood up and made a hand gesture to which his men obeyed in silence, taking back their place in the background. Alice raised a hand and the snipers hiding in the upper level of the auditorium turned off their laser sights.
- Blease, gouh habe to listen to be!!! We need your helb!!!
With his broken nose, Kenjiro was even harder to understand but Alice new enough about the man to at least take the time to listen to him. She made an other motion with her hand and her aid brought the little group to her room where they would be able to talk.
After cleaning the blood, replacing the nose in its axis and giving refreshment to everyone, Alice sat on a chair and listened to Kenjiro’s story. Since the Zombies were public knowledge, Japan had made enormous efforts to upgrade the security of their public transportation. Airports were guarded and each plane was searched for sign of an infected. The same with the various harbors. Every train and metro station in the country had been equipped with Zombie fences. These were to prevent Zombies from getting out off a train or the metro and swarm a city. As an added protection, each station could become locked down to prevent anyone from entering or leaving it.
3 days ago, a speed train had had trouble and had had to make frequent stops. Soon, the police, the army and family members of the people on the train received frantic calls about crazy people biting others and looking sick. After the fourth call, they had looked the train and made it go to Tokyo Station, the most fortified of all Japan. There, the camera had showed around 300 people and 35 Z’s. Everyone was infected. They had had no choice but to initiate a lock down. The poor director of the station had evacuated everyone and had done the lock down himself. The, had performed Harakiri. His only son had been on that train.
They now had over 300 Z’s inside Tokyo and had had to prevent people from freeing them. But it was not why he was here. A girl of 16, Yukio Suzuki was still alive. She had been bitten but after the incubation period, had started to write to her family. She was hidden in a small broom closet and had escape notice so far. But...they needed an expert to get in, get her out and take her out of the country. The government had blocked cell phone in and out of the station so she could only contact government officials but the Kyonshi Task Force commander had asked for her to personally take a team there, clean up the mess and rescue the girl. That’s why he was here. To ask for her help.
- But why me? Asked Alice
- Because, you are the only one I know who ever did survive such a mission. And this girl needs all the help and support one of her kind can offer her… and because she is my niece.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Chapter 31: Through the looking glass
Nadia sat alone in a large room. The room was white washed, white gauze moved from a gentle breeze from the huge widows that were letting lightly colder air in. Her eyes were closed and she was thinking about plans, and counters and other such things. She was sad about Mat. He would have made a marvelous addition to her team. She had felt him on the train station but had had not had the time to deal with him or even recruit him. Benjamin, her second in command had made a grave mistake in ordering an attack on the kid. But it was all in the past now.
Sitting on the floor in the lotus meditation pose, she supervised the battle ground from above like the Tsar of old guided their armies. She truly was the last descendent of the sadly famed Romanov and took pride in her heritage. She, like her famous ancestors wanted to conquer. Destroy humanity was a very different goal though.
On a small table next to her were lying a few books: The Art of War, Julius Cesar’s Gaul conquest, Churchill’s biography and surprisingly, a graphic novel from DC comics and one from Marvel. What did they have in common? No one would ever know but her. This was her sanctuary, her most sacred place of all. Those who knew about it knew enough to stay as far from it as possible. Nadia Romanov did not like to have her privacy invaded by anyone.
The whole house was like this room: white, almost bare of furniture and spread carelessly around the different rooms, books and weapons. The books were about all sort of topics, from history to psychology passing through mythology and obscure subjects like the habits of the Ithach’Ïa, a secretive tribe of Amazonian natives. The weapons were all exquisite craftsmanship. From a Russian sword with the Romanov crest on the scabbard to a hand crafted Ak-47 with the cross carved to resemble a blooming lily, everything was as beautiful as it was deadly.
Sighing, she stood up and went to the window. There she stood looking over the Huacachina Oasis in Peru. She had her own helicopter, a small and beautiful thing she loved her Dragon 334 gp from a small business in Italia, Dragon Fly. She had had to pay a handsome supplement to have a motor that was twice the power of the current one and to augment the flight distance accordingly. But it had all been worth it. The liberty of going and coming to her most beloved location in the world from the nearest airport was unparallel.
Something made her eyes lose focus: the battle in Germany had started. And she needed to concentrate over there. She had over 2 000 troops awaiting he command and she had 6 generals anxious for blood. Such inelegancy saddens her but, when the time was right, they too would perish, as would she. And all would be over and good.
Nadia followed the battle with her mind. She saw the leader of the small platoon move straight for her well planned trap. Then, without reason that she could understand, turn around and move his troops to safety. She ordered the use of her special force, recognizing the leader as Thompson, a man to be weary of. To her utmost amazement, he not only survived but repelled her assault. She had to give him and his troop’s credit; they had done a marvelous job with such feeble resources at their disposal. Opening her eyes, she looked at the sky. Over two hours had passed and the outcome of her plan in Germany for a swift takeover of the city was to be planed again.
With her mind still as the lake of the oasis, she turned her attention to Japan. There was a plan that would come to fruition. Soon, hundreds of undead would emerge from the center of Tokyo. Japan was not ready for this. They had planned well, but she was simply better. She understood their main flaw: their distrust of foreigners. Gaijin’s as they called them. They would never call for help outside their own country. And thus their fall would begin. They would be the first nation to fall. Nothing personal there, it was just that it was easier that way. She would attack every island nation out there as they were easier to infiltrate and they could not escape the Bringers of Light. In the end, on one would.
A small smile played on her beautiful features, warming her for a few instants as she imagined the earth pure and green as it would be in a few hundred years from now. And as the sun is masked by a cloud, coldness and serenity masked her face as she turned her full attention to a small drama that would soon become a blazing fire purging this magnificent land that had been Japan. She closed her eyes for the second time that day.
Sitting on the floor in the lotus meditation pose, she supervised the battle ground from above like the Tsar of old guided their armies. She truly was the last descendent of the sadly famed Romanov and took pride in her heritage. She, like her famous ancestors wanted to conquer. Destroy humanity was a very different goal though.
On a small table next to her were lying a few books: The Art of War, Julius Cesar’s Gaul conquest, Churchill’s biography and surprisingly, a graphic novel from DC comics and one from Marvel. What did they have in common? No one would ever know but her. This was her sanctuary, her most sacred place of all. Those who knew about it knew enough to stay as far from it as possible. Nadia Romanov did not like to have her privacy invaded by anyone.
The whole house was like this room: white, almost bare of furniture and spread carelessly around the different rooms, books and weapons. The books were about all sort of topics, from history to psychology passing through mythology and obscure subjects like the habits of the Ithach’Ïa, a secretive tribe of Amazonian natives. The weapons were all exquisite craftsmanship. From a Russian sword with the Romanov crest on the scabbard to a hand crafted Ak-47 with the cross carved to resemble a blooming lily, everything was as beautiful as it was deadly.
Sighing, she stood up and went to the window. There she stood looking over the Huacachina Oasis in Peru. She had her own helicopter, a small and beautiful thing she loved her Dragon 334 gp from a small business in Italia, Dragon Fly. She had had to pay a handsome supplement to have a motor that was twice the power of the current one and to augment the flight distance accordingly. But it had all been worth it. The liberty of going and coming to her most beloved location in the world from the nearest airport was unparallel.
Something made her eyes lose focus: the battle in Germany had started. And she needed to concentrate over there. She had over 2 000 troops awaiting he command and she had 6 generals anxious for blood. Such inelegancy saddens her but, when the time was right, they too would perish, as would she. And all would be over and good.
Nadia followed the battle with her mind. She saw the leader of the small platoon move straight for her well planned trap. Then, without reason that she could understand, turn around and move his troops to safety. She ordered the use of her special force, recognizing the leader as Thompson, a man to be weary of. To her utmost amazement, he not only survived but repelled her assault. She had to give him and his troop’s credit; they had done a marvelous job with such feeble resources at their disposal. Opening her eyes, she looked at the sky. Over two hours had passed and the outcome of her plan in Germany for a swift takeover of the city was to be planed again.
With her mind still as the lake of the oasis, she turned her attention to Japan. There was a plan that would come to fruition. Soon, hundreds of undead would emerge from the center of Tokyo. Japan was not ready for this. They had planned well, but she was simply better. She understood their main flaw: their distrust of foreigners. Gaijin’s as they called them. They would never call for help outside their own country. And thus their fall would begin. They would be the first nation to fall. Nothing personal there, it was just that it was easier that way. She would attack every island nation out there as they were easier to infiltrate and they could not escape the Bringers of Light. In the end, on one would.
A small smile played on her beautiful features, warming her for a few instants as she imagined the earth pure and green as it would be in a few hundred years from now. And as the sun is masked by a cloud, coldness and serenity masked her face as she turned her full attention to a small drama that would soon become a blazing fire purging this magnificent land that had been Japan. She closed her eyes for the second time that day.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Chapter 30 The Englischer Garten Park fight
*Note: due to the fact that I don’t speak, read or even understand most of the foreign language out there, everything will automatically be translated in English thanks to my “Babel Fish” (Thanks Mr. Douglas Adams). The Author*
Thompson moved his troops to the Pagoda, a 25 meter structure that was modeled on the Great Pagoda from London. There, he placed his fighters for maximum cover of the surrounding and waited for the very bad feeling to go away. It didn’t… It only got worse when he saw that instead of 12 or 15 Z’s, coming up; there were at least 60 of them. The German grunts started to feel uneasy. So he called for some reinforcement and sent some soldiers with the instructions to destroy the stairs using hand grenades so the zombies would be sucked outside or at least on the first floor. A huge explosion shook the whole tower some time later and the soldiers came back with a satisfied look on their face: they had destroyed most of the first round of stairs so no Z’s could climb to them.
Thompson then took his night goggles and tried to see their reinforcement coming. He did not. Deciding to take things in his own hands, he redistributed his resources: his sharp shooter, Hans Larsen, was on the top floor with the medic. With him were 2 of his four D.B.H regular. On the very first floor, were the second 2 with 8 German soldiers. They were his first line of defense. On the middle floor, were the rest of the German forces, 10 soldiers and 2 sergeants. Thompson gave the order to set the weapons on single shoot and to take their time so as not to waist ammo. Each soldier had 3 clips on him including the one in his weapon while the sharp shooter had 5 in all. Hans had special instructions: Hans was to shoot any Z that looked to be even remotely too smart. Thompson had the strong feeling that some of the Z’s would be controlled by the B.o.L and it would do them some mental strain to be “killed” and it might take them some time to recover, meaning that more Z’s would be without instructions.
The moans got louder and louder. By then, Thompson could see to his amazement that some of the zombies had weapons. Running upstairs, he was glad to hear the first of many calculated and evenly spaced shoot. Hans had obviously seen the danger and had started shooting the threat. Indeed, when he reached the top, Thompson could see that Hans had his eye on his visor and was aiming to kill the ones carrying weapons. Without bothering the guy, Thompson made another survey and gasped with horror: A zombie was aiming a rocket launcher at the Pagoda. Without taking his eyes, he gave the orders: “Larsen! Threat at 4 o’cloc, rocket”
- Hi sir, got it. Followed by a splendid head shoot.
Still making looking around, he called targets and Hans downed them. The fight was in full on every level of the towers. The one near the base were killing slowly and taking care of their aim while the one on the median level took targets that were farther away. Soon, way too soon, only Hans had any ammo left. The Germans had added bayonet to their riffle. They were two sided blades, more akin to spikes than actual WWII knifes. They had a single purpose: get through a skull and destroy the brain. And the soldiers were doing a good job with it.
Thompson was faced with a heavy dilemma: get everyone higher and try to keep the Z’s from getting to them, which would prove to be quite hard since there were way too many Z’s controlled by their enemies. The corpses where pilled so high that it made a natural ramp that the zombies could climb. The fight got messy. Thompson was on the front, a basket hilt in his hand and a dirk in the other. He cleaved through heads, knifed eyeballs to get to the brain and made a bloody mess of everything. The other D.B.H were with him on the front line while the regular guys were bringing the rear.
After what seemed like hours but was more akin to 15 minutes, heavy gunfire could be heard. Sighing with relief, Thompson ordered a full retreat to the top floor. There he made certain that everyone was safe, sound and that no one was infected. 6 or 7 minutes later, someone called and was helped to the top of the tower. It was a corporal of the German army. He gave his report: there were over 200 dead Z’s and their forces were still engaged in battle against around 50 of the undead. Thompson’s unit had a head count of roughly 147 Z’s and was relived from duty.
Thompson guided his man to transport trucks and sighed again. He hoped that the fuckers from B.o.L would be found fast. Otherwise, this war was lost…
Thompson moved his troops to the Pagoda, a 25 meter structure that was modeled on the Great Pagoda from London. There, he placed his fighters for maximum cover of the surrounding and waited for the very bad feeling to go away. It didn’t… It only got worse when he saw that instead of 12 or 15 Z’s, coming up; there were at least 60 of them. The German grunts started to feel uneasy. So he called for some reinforcement and sent some soldiers with the instructions to destroy the stairs using hand grenades so the zombies would be sucked outside or at least on the first floor. A huge explosion shook the whole tower some time later and the soldiers came back with a satisfied look on their face: they had destroyed most of the first round of stairs so no Z’s could climb to them.
Thompson then took his night goggles and tried to see their reinforcement coming. He did not. Deciding to take things in his own hands, he redistributed his resources: his sharp shooter, Hans Larsen, was on the top floor with the medic. With him were 2 of his four D.B.H regular. On the very first floor, were the second 2 with 8 German soldiers. They were his first line of defense. On the middle floor, were the rest of the German forces, 10 soldiers and 2 sergeants. Thompson gave the order to set the weapons on single shoot and to take their time so as not to waist ammo. Each soldier had 3 clips on him including the one in his weapon while the sharp shooter had 5 in all. Hans had special instructions: Hans was to shoot any Z that looked to be even remotely too smart. Thompson had the strong feeling that some of the Z’s would be controlled by the B.o.L and it would do them some mental strain to be “killed” and it might take them some time to recover, meaning that more Z’s would be without instructions.
The moans got louder and louder. By then, Thompson could see to his amazement that some of the zombies had weapons. Running upstairs, he was glad to hear the first of many calculated and evenly spaced shoot. Hans had obviously seen the danger and had started shooting the threat. Indeed, when he reached the top, Thompson could see that Hans had his eye on his visor and was aiming to kill the ones carrying weapons. Without bothering the guy, Thompson made another survey and gasped with horror: A zombie was aiming a rocket launcher at the Pagoda. Without taking his eyes, he gave the orders: “Larsen! Threat at 4 o’cloc, rocket”
- Hi sir, got it. Followed by a splendid head shoot.
Still making looking around, he called targets and Hans downed them. The fight was in full on every level of the towers. The one near the base were killing slowly and taking care of their aim while the one on the median level took targets that were farther away. Soon, way too soon, only Hans had any ammo left. The Germans had added bayonet to their riffle. They were two sided blades, more akin to spikes than actual WWII knifes. They had a single purpose: get through a skull and destroy the brain. And the soldiers were doing a good job with it.
Thompson was faced with a heavy dilemma: get everyone higher and try to keep the Z’s from getting to them, which would prove to be quite hard since there were way too many Z’s controlled by their enemies. The corpses where pilled so high that it made a natural ramp that the zombies could climb. The fight got messy. Thompson was on the front, a basket hilt in his hand and a dirk in the other. He cleaved through heads, knifed eyeballs to get to the brain and made a bloody mess of everything. The other D.B.H were with him on the front line while the regular guys were bringing the rear.
After what seemed like hours but was more akin to 15 minutes, heavy gunfire could be heard. Sighing with relief, Thompson ordered a full retreat to the top floor. There he made certain that everyone was safe, sound and that no one was infected. 6 or 7 minutes later, someone called and was helped to the top of the tower. It was a corporal of the German army. He gave his report: there were over 200 dead Z’s and their forces were still engaged in battle against around 50 of the undead. Thompson’s unit had a head count of roughly 147 Z’s and was relived from duty.
Thompson guided his man to transport trucks and sighed again. He hoped that the fuckers from B.o.L would be found fast. Otherwise, this war was lost…
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