David Presley - Rise of the Undead 1943

“They wish to join us. Trust me!”

“Fuck ’em, he’s traded sides,” Pilch says.

Monte nods, “Covering fire! Protect the Germans!”

Pilch moves his rifle toward the Romans, “God-damn-it!”

The Americans open up on the Romans.

Oddball looks to Monte, “Grenades?”

“Not yet!”

A German goes down under a Roman’s blade. Pilch picks off the Roman before he can take down another.

“They are not going to make it,” Yusif says.

Another German falls with a spear in his leg. A German Sergeant stops to pick him up. The Romans pause in their advance to fall on the pair, quickly slashing them to pieces with short swords and spears. Camir and twelve German survivors are able to make it behind the Americans’ firing line.

“Get them back in the tunnel!” Monte yells.

“Fuck it. Let ’em fight,” Oddball suggests.

Monte looks at the German soldiers, a tough bunch, and nods in agreement. A spear sails in to take a German in chest. Everyone crouches for cover as more spears sail in. Vanessa moves forward and pulls the injured man back. Johnson scoops up a dropped Roman shield and uses it for cover.

Monte looks to the Romans and then to the Germans, “Can you fight?”

Muller steps forward, “We need ammo.”

Monte picks up a rifle from a German corpse and tosses it to him. The other Germans start picking through the bodies of the fallen looking for ammo. Muller slams a round into the chamber and glares at Pilch.

“Take your best shot, fuehrer,” Pilch spits at him.

The sniper moves forward to confront Pilch, but Muller pulls him back.

“Karl, relax.”

“Gutless…”

Monte jerks Pilch back and roughly tosses him to the other side of their position.

“Here they come!” Johnson screams.

The Germans and Americans open fire. Long muzzle flashes from the weapons reaching out, empty shell casing dropping to the ground and a wall of death shattering the Roman line. The assault slows, but the Romans keep coming, pieces of their bodies being blown away as they approach. The horde looks unstoppable.

“They’re gonna break through!” Johnson screams.

A scared German soldier stands up and dropping his weapon, runs from the onslaught.

Johnson watches him go, “Hey! You dirty yellow son-of-a…”

The scared German only makes it a few steps when a bullet hits him in the back. A German sergeant, Krugger, stands looking at the man he just killed. The other Germans and GIs look to the smoking gun barrel and the monster of a man.

“Fight!” Krugger yells and points toward the Romans.

The Romans are almost on them, snarling, screaming. A wall of lead sprays from the Americans’ position. A spear takes a German in the neck with a sickening crunch.

“Grenades!” Monte signals Oddball.

Oddball tosses them. The grenades explode. The air is filled with debris and bones. The second wave of Romans breaks through.

“Again!” Monte yells.

Oddball pulls two grenades and throws them. But it’s too late. The Romans are on them. One jumps over the bodies and lands on Oddball. He screams as the Roman thrusts a dagger at his head.

“Oh shit!” Oddball cries out trying to keep the dagger from his face.

As Oddball grapples with the Roman, another jumps over the bodies, meeting Yusif’s blade. Oddball struggles with both hands to keep the dagger away.

“Keep firing! Johnson, look out!” Monte screams.

Another Roman tackles Johnson. He rolls away from its knife and fires into its head and then uses his shield to bash the skull in of another Roman that’s crawling toward him. Krugger picks up the Roman trying to stab Oddball and throws it, flailing, into the incoming horde. Oddball pulls out his archeological shovel and starts hacking for his life. He doesn’t see a Roman charging him from behind. The Roman readies his spear to run Oddball through when Karl fires point-blank. The Roman drops to the floor. Oddball spins and gives Karl a nod of thanks, but Karl doesn’t notice because he’s lining up on his next target. Pilch fires and drops a Roman; then Karl fires dropping another. Shot by shot the two snipers fire, looking to each other and trying to out do the other.

One of the Germans is disemboweled by a Roman’s blade. Oddball slips on the bloody mess, “Join the Army they said; who wants to be on a ship? Yeah, good choice Oddball.”

“They’re flanking us!” Muller yells.

“Advance, on me! On me!” Monte screams.

Monte steps forward and leads the group through the horde, counter attacking to break out before they are surrounded.

“Kill ’em, kill all the sons a’ bitches!” Monte yells, and they fight for their lives.

With a hail of fire the soldiers advance, anger replacing fear. Krugger uses a dead Roman like a battering ram to clear a path. Another German goes down screaming, his entrails spilling onto the ground from the slash of a Roman’s short sword. Monte slams a new magazine in his Thompson and fires a long burst into three Romans coming at him. He guides the burst high and stitches all three through the head. He spins to see the floor is piled with bodies and the combined group of Americans and Germans are killing off the last of the Roman horde with single shots. He sighs and lowers his weapon, out of breath, blood dripping down his uniform, “Alright.”

Muller looks to him, “Thank you. I’m Captain Muller.”

Monte glares at him, “Don’t thank me. We came to kill you, not to save you.”

Muller nods and smiles, “If I am your prisoner, under the Geneva Convention, you are responsible for my protection.”

Krugger starts to gather the German troops behind Muller.

“That’s funny,” Monte says sarcastically.

The two stare each other down. Muller holds his pistol at his side. The Germans and American eye each other suspiciously, fingers on triggers, weapons at the ready.

“We gonna have a problem?” Monte finally asks.

The two men look over their opposing forces, evenly matched.

Muller shrugs, “Could go either way.”

Monte grips his weapon tight and nods, “Could.”

Muller turns to his men, “Stand down.”

Monte slings his Thompson and the Americans relax. Muller extends his hand.

“Let’s just get one thing straight. I’m in charge,” Monte says firmly.

“I understand… Sergeant.”

Monte extends his hand, and the two men shake.

Pilch steps forward and spits at Muller’s feet, “No fucking way. I ain’t joining forces with no murdering bast…”

Karl hits Pilch with a hook.

Pilch glares at him, “That the best you got, Jerry?”

Pilch draws his arm back to strike when Monte grabs him and tosses him back out of the way. Weapons are pointed on both sides.

Muller gently pushes Karl back. Monte nods an apology to him and turns to Pilch.

“If you haven’t noticed, we’re in the shit here.”

Pilch rubs his jaw, “Bastards killed my brother. U-boat sunk his transport; he drowned in the North Atlantic.”

Pilch moves for Muller, and Monte has to push him back.

“Seventeen and drowned ’cause these fucking bastards want to take over the world!”

“If you can’t control yourself, soldier, you can hand over that weapon.”

Pilch and Monte lock eyes.

“He’s a god-damn Kraut officer; they butchered us at Kasserine! Larry, Tom, Harrigan all of ’em.”

The mood is tense, soldier eyeing soldier.

“Give me your weapon.”

“Fuck you.”

“Now!”

Pilch tosses Monte his rifle, and the soldiers on both sides lower their weapons. Monte slings Pilchs’ rifle and turns to Muller, “Any way outta here?”

Muller points toward the tunnel, “It goes deeper.”