David Presley - Rise of the Undead 1943

“Then what?” Pilch asks.

All eyes look down the tunnel.

Matty gulps, “Scared to death.”

Johnson shakes his head, “Bullshit.”

“No, I heard about it from a guy in Baker Company at Kasserine,” Matty claims.

Monte stands, “Matty, shut up.”

“It’s true; my pa saw it in the Great War,” Clint says.

“We should go back,” Oddball turns to leave. Monte grabs him and turns him around.

“All of you, shut the hell up,” Monte barks, eyeing the men.

A distant whump of a grenade shakes the tunnel.

Monte, satisfied that the men are listening, looks down the tunnel, “Let’s get moving.”

Screams and gunshots come from ahead. A bullet whizzes past.

“Johnson, get that other Thompson up here,” Monte orders.

Johnson moves forward, and they both have the submachine-guns pointed forward, “Let’s go, slowly,” Monte tells him.

Johnson holds the Thompson tight, ready to shoot. Bullets breeze past them. The screams get louder. Something moves from the shadows ahead. Johnson stops.

“Steady,” Monte says.

A German soldier comes at them, walking backwards and firing wildly. He turns to face them.

One of the Americans steps on a discolored brick. There’s a click from the floor. The American looks down.

The German and Johnson lock eyes. The German brings his weapon up, Johnson fires, blowing him down. There’s a loud crash, and Monte spins to see one of the Americans pinned to the ground by a large lead spike that has fallen from the ceiling and now sticks out of the man’s neck where his head used to be. It holds the twitching corpse up right like a pin through a doll.

“Nobody move!” Monte screams.

Camir looks at the brick; he points out another booby-trapped brick nearby.

Monte nods, “I got it.”

A bullet whines in and hits an American in the head, and he falls back dead. Some of the men drop to the ground for cover at seeing this. Another American lands on a bobby-trapped brick. A metal spike plummets from the ceiling, the tip of the spike impaling him through the skull and exiting his mouth. He writhes and groans in agony, vainly trying to pull himself free.

“God-damn-it. Nobody move!” Monte screams even as more rounds fly in, “Yusif.”

Yusif waves Camir forward, and he walks confidently, pointing out the bricks they should avoid. Monte looks to the men, “Everybody got it?”

The men nod.

Monte looks back to the impaled man to see he’s no longer moving, “Alright, slowly.”

The men move down the tunnel cautiously, on edge, stepping over the booby-trapped bricks. German bodies litter the corridor, some impaled by spikes, others with bloody wounds.

“Who are they fighting?” Oddball asks.

“Shut up,” Monte says over his shoulder.

The hallway ends at an octagon-shaped room with passages leading in eight directions. Gunfire and screaming echo through the room, and the nervous Americans look down every corridor for the unseen enemy.

“Which way?” Pilch asks.

A sickening scream of agony comes from the dark, and Pilch spins, looking for the source.

“Which way!” Pilch yells.

The scream intensifies into shrieks of pain and then suddenly stops.

Oddball turns around to go back the way they came, “Fuck this.” Monte grabs him, spinning him back and into the room. Gunfire continues to echo through the passage.

Monte listens but can’t discern which passage the sounds are coming from, “Yusif, get us out of here!”

Yusif examines the hieroglyphic carved into the stone floor. He indicates a passage, “This way.”

“Are you sure?” Monte asks.

Yusif nods and leads off.

Pilch watches him go and leans in close to Monte, “We can’t trust him.”

“Yes, we can.”

“He read that gibberish on the fuckin’ floor Sarge, come on!”

“We can trust him!”

“How you figure?”

“I don’t know, but I do.”

Monte follows Yusif into the tunnel.

“That’s real fuckin’ reassuring,” Pilch mutters.

Yusif leads them to an open doorway and stops. He peers in.

Monte looks in to see a dimly lit room with large, gold double doors and a tunnel leading off in the opposite direction.

Monte points to the gold doors, “Looks like an exit to me.”

“Yes,” Yusif agrees.

“Clint, Matty, lead off.”

Matty and Clint lead them into the room.

Clint gazes at the large gold plated door, “Think it’s real gold?”

Something moves from the shadows at the end of the room. Matty taps Clint and points.

Clint calls out in German, “Halt and surrender!”

Two figures step from the shadows.

Clint continues in German, “Hands up!”

Clint looks to Matty, “See, told you my grandfather was from the old country.”

The figures move into the dim torch light, revealing two Napoleonic soldiers in full uniform.

“What the fuck?” Clint says.

The Frenchmen come at them, bayonets fixed on their ancient rifles. Clint and Matty open fire. Round after round slam into the Frenchmen, but they keep coming. Both rifles click empty.

“Oh shit,” Clint says reaching for his pistol.

Monte pushes his Thompson forward and fires into the approaching Frenchmen with no effect. Yusif knocks Matty to the ground to face the charging Frenchmen. He swings his scimitar wide, cutting a Frenchman in half at the waist.

Clint draws his pistol as a bayonet hits him in the chest with a wet pop. “Momma,” he cries out.

The Frenchman pulls the bayonet out with a spray of blood. Clint raises his pistol and shoots the Frenchman in the face, and they both fall to the ground. The scream echoes through the room, and as the Frenchman falls back, the ball of energy exits his head. Monte stares at the ceiling where the ball of energy disappeared, “What the hell was that?”

Camir and Yusif move forward, scimitars in hand to clear the room.

Oddball pulls Clint back, “Aw, Clinty.”

Matty looks over from where he lays, face down on the ground, “Clinty, you okay bud?” Clint doesn’t move, “Aw no, Clinty.”

With a hiss, the legless Frenchman that Yusif cut in half crawls toward Matty with a dagger in its hand. The men get a good look at the mysterious soldier from the past. Its skin is dried out and has withered tight onto the bone. Its eyes are sunk deep into the skull and its voice comes out as dry hisses.

“Jesus!” Johnson cries out.

The Frenchman crawls up to Matty and drives the dagger into his back.

Oddball shrieks and crawls on his butt backward in fear.

Matty claws at the Frenchman, “Get ’em off, he’s killing me!”

Oddball continues screaming, and Johnson stares in horror. Monte calmly steps up and, using his pistol, shoots the Frenchman in the head. There’s another evil scream and a ball of energy shoots toward the ceiling, Monte falls back on the ground watching it go.

Not realizing the Frenchman is dead, Matty continues to struggle, “Help! Get him off me!”

Oddball is still screaming.

Monte stands up and goes to Matty, “Hold still, and Oddball, for fuck’s sake, will you shut up,” Monte pulls the half corpse off Matty’s back and throws it down the hallway.

Yusif and Camir return. Yusif shakes his head, “No more.”

Monte pulls the dagger out of Matty’s backpack and then pulls the pack off.

“How bad is it Sarge?” Matty asks concerned.

Matty tries to get up as Monte feels along his back for wet spots indicating blood. Finding none, Monte looks at Matty’s pack and pulls out the gold box. He hands the broken box to Matty, punctured by the dagger, “Lucky bastard.”

Yusif looks at Matty’s box, “Luck had nothing to do with it,” Yusif indicates the symbol on the box, “This talisman wards off evil.”