David Presley - Rise of the Undead 1943

Pender grinds his teeth but breaks, “Yes sir.”

Harris looks to Monte, “You wait for my orders to pivot. I’ll lead the other half and we’ll sneak along the rocks, I want prisoners.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But sir, they have the high ground, and it’s pretty open out there,” Pender objects.

“We’ll sneak. You hear that men, no one fires unless I give the order.”

Harris doesn’t wait for any more objections and moves around the rocks.

Pender shakes his head, “This should be fun,” and follows.

Harris leads the men along the rocks toward the German’s position. Pender tries to slow him down, “They got a bead on us, sir.”

Harris doesn’t slow, “You’re paranoid-- or you’ve lost your nerve.”

Pender’s eyes go wide with rage, “Why you snot nosed little…”

A bullet hits Pender in the chest with a smack of tearing flesh. Harris stops and turns around. Pender looks down at the neat hole over his heart and then up to Harris. His eyes blaze in their last moments of life, and the young lieutenant can see that those eyes blame him for his death. Harris stares into those eyes, doubt and fear pushing aside his cocky bravado and confidence in the face of mortal combat. He reaches out to take Pender, to try and do something when another round hits Pender in the heart and sprays the young officer with blood.

“Cover!” Pilch screams.

A bullet hits one of the Americans in the neck, and he goes down gurgling for breath, weapon discarded and hands vainly trying to stop the river of blood pouring from his throat. The rest of the men dive behind rocks for cover as more rounds whine in. Harris watches Pender’s lifeless face as his limp corpse falls backwards to the ground. More bullets zing by, kicking up dirt and debris.

Pilch looks to Harris, “Hey, sir.”

Harris looks down at his uniform and sees that he’s covered in Pender’s blood. He stands motionless and stunned looking at the blood as bullets smack the ground near him.

“Sir?” Pilch calls over.

Harris is too shocked to respond. He looks up to the young American that was hit in the throat; his neck is in shreds, and blood is running like a fountain from his wound and mouth as he kicks and squirms in vain. A bullet hits one of the new recruits in the face, and his helmet sails free with most of the back of his head.

Harris opens his mouth to speak, to give an order but nothing comes out.

Monte and the rest of the men come charging in, “Open up, open up!” Monte screams.

Pilch looks down the scope of his sniper rifle and fires, the round sparks on the rocks inches from a German, “But the Lieutenant didn’t say we could,” he chides as he lines up another shot. He has the distance now and holds his breath, relaxes, and fires. The German takes the round in the head, “He runs it by the books, ya’ know.”

A round clips Harris in the shoulder, and he snaps out of his trance, spins and starts firing wildly. Lead by Monte, the veterans fire carefully aimed shots and keep their cool while the new recruits spray out fire carelessly.

Another German goes down.

“Got’em!” Oddball calls from behind a rock.

“Bull-shit, I got ’em,” Lewis calls.

“You lyin’ sack of shit…” Oddball starts when another American goes down with a shot in the head. Oddball watches the man’s feet twitching in his death dance and drops his argument with Lewis. The last German tumbles from the rocks after the bark of Pilchs’ rifle, and the sounds of gunfire and crack of bullets subside to the quiet howl of the desert sands as fast as it had begun.

Smith kneels by the lifeless body of Pender, “Monte, Sergeant Pender is down!”

Harris glances over, “Leave ’em and move forward.”

“But…”

“I said move out!”

Monte gently pulls Smith away from the body, and the men move into the camp. Monte looks back to Pender’s corpse and then turns to the men with a sigh, “Check those tents.”

Johnson looks back to Pender and the other dead Americans, “We ain’t just gonna leave him back…”

“Johnson!” Monte snaps.

Johnson clamps his mouth shut and moves toward a tent. Harris looks to the archway and stops. The wind howls, kicking up the sand. Monte stops, seeing a leather book half buried at his feet.

Pilch, Oddball, and Johnson move toward one of the tents. Pilch eyes Yusif and Camir suspiciously, “Two of ’em now.”

Oddball smiles, “Relax. Sarge said they’re on our side.”

“Shit. Monte ain’t no Sergeant in my book. Just a second string Corporal.”

Johnson nods in agreement, “Yup.”

Johnson and Oddball enter the tent while Pilch moves to inspect the dead German that fell from the rocks. Pilch rolls the dead German over to see his round took him in the neck. The man has an old scar that runs from the top of his head and down his cheek. Pilch rifles through his pockets and pilfers a wallet.

Harris stares, riveted by the stone archway. The desert wind howls around him eerily.

Monte approaches, “Excuse me, sir?”

Transfixed, his jaw twitching and the desert wind filling his ears, Harris is oblivious.

“Sir?” Monte gently shakes his shoulder.

Harris snaps back to reality, “What?”

“Found this,” Monte hands Harris a leather-bound journal.

Harris opens it, “Professor Montclair. University of Paris.”

He leafs through the pages.

Yusif quickly steps in, “May I?”

Harris hands him the journal.

“I know this archeologist, left months ago, to England I believe.”

“Why would he leave his notes behind?” Harris asks.

Yusif shakes his head concerned, “He would not.”

Oddball exits the tent with a heavy serrated archeological shovel, “Look what I found.”

Yusif subtly pockets the journal.

Margrave looks to Oddball, “Swell, where you find that?”

“In that tent.”

Clint walks out with an ancient black-glazed wine amphora, “Oh yeah, well look at this.”

Pilch looks up from his pilfering of the German, concerned he may be missing out on the ‘spoils of war’.

Oddball smirks, “What you gonna do with some old jar?”

“Shit, it’s better than a friggin’ shovel. I bet it’s worth a fortune!”

Lewis comes out of another tent with an amulet hanging from a string of copper beads, “Swell!”

Oddball swings his new tool like a club. Harris looks to Monte with raised eyebrows.

“You knuckleheads knock it off,” Monte barks.

Harris looks to Yusif and gestures to the stone archway, “This the bunker?”

Yusif nods, “Yes. Come.”

Pilch moves toward the men and looks back to see the dead German is gone. He turns in every direction but can’t find the corpse. The rest of the men are entering the temple. The wind picks up with an evil howl. The sand moves near his feet.

“Pilch, get your ass over here!” Monte barks from inside.

A bony hand reaches from the sand just missing his boot as he hurries toward the temple.

Yusif and the Americans enter the temple with rifles at the ready. Matty looks around; the eyes of the statues seem to look at him no matter where he gazes, “Whoa.”

Monte looks down at fresh tracks on the ground. Yusif nods, “Germans. When we arrived, they had already disappeared behind the door.”

Monte and Harris approach the stone door. Yusif slips into the shadows and moves for the statue of the beautiful man.

Clint walks up behind Oddball, “Hey Oddball, got a smoke?” he asks quietly.

Oddball, eyes darting around the room, nods and pulls a pack out of his shirt pocket, “Sure, Clinty.”

Monte examines the stone door, “Looks like a door, but I can’t find no handle,” he works his hands around the massive stone block.