Joseph Talluto - America the Dead

As Hook turned the handle of the door, he glanced back and the last thing he saw before leaving was Private Gomez rising slowly to his feet, his milky eyes searching hungrily for his former friend.

Private Hook hurried out the door and slammed it shut behind him. Pounding from the other side hurried him away from the building. Cradling Gomez’s weapons in one hand, keeping the other on his own gun, Hook began running back to the convoy.

Thorton is going to be pissed, he thought as he ran.

Major Thorton was lounging in the sun when the three men he had sent to check the houses came trotting back. They carried improvised sacks and were grinning at each other. They stopped in front of the major and showed their prizes like kids with Halloween candy.

Thorton heaved himself upright and peered into the sacks. The first one held an assortment of canned goods, from Spam to Spaghetti-O’s. The next sack had a supply of ammunition, most of it for shotguns. Thorton was reminded about the nature of small towns in general. If they had any guns at all, they tended to be shotguns, which were relatively useless for zombies, or really big-bore handguns, which were good for one shot. The further east he went, the less he was finding for his men’s arms, which was going to present a problem if they ever had to face a serious horde.

The third sack held about three dozen cans of various fruits and vegetables, as well as a remarkably ample supply of porno magazines. Thorton looked up at the soldier who just shrugged. Ken shook his head and waved his hand at the three, who scurried off to show their comrades and share their booty. Chances were pretty good the men had found liquor as well, but they could keep it. Thorton figured it kept the men happy enough.

Just as he was going back to his chair, the front door of the hardware store banged open, spilling two soldiers into the walkway. They rose to their feet slowly and seemed unsteady in the bright sunlight. Thorton shouted out to them.

“You two! Get over here and report!” he said loudly.

The two soldiers jumped slightly at the sound of the major’s voice. Slowly swiveling their heads, they locked onto the major’s position and began moving in his direction. One, Private Ellis, seemed to have injured himself and had a nasty wound on his leg. The other, Private Barnes, looked like he had something fall on his face.

Thorton cursed them for their slowness and yelled out, “I said move, you worthless pieces of dog shit! I ain’t got all day!”

The two soldiers responded with their own outburst. As one, they both raised their heads, opened their mouths and groaned with enthusiasm. The sound, carried from freshly dead throats, echoed across the small town and into the surrounding countryside. It froze every living creature in their tracks for a brief second before chilling their blood to the bone. It was the calling cry of the zombies and they were on the hunt.

“Ah, shit. You dumbasses,” Thorton said as he realized what had happened to the two men. Somehow they managed to get themselves infected and now they just added to the zombie army’s ranks. Nothing is going right today, he thought to himself. Should’ve just passed this stupid town by. He walked over to the side of the road and picked up a small street sign that had been knocked over. The two former soldiers tracked his movements and moved to try and intercept him. At the trucks, soldiers spilled out with weapons at the ready, the groan of the zombies working better than a klaxon call to arms.

Thorton hefted the improvised weapon, then waited for Private Ellis to get closer. When the zombie came within range, Ken swung in a looping arc, catching the former solider under the ear and completely shearing his head off. The body of the zombie immediately fell to the ground while the head, still biting, bounced off a nearby car and came to a rest face up in the street.

Thorton didn’t waste time with the second zombie. Swinging the sign in an overhead chop, he brought the weapon down onto Private Barnes skull. The edge of the sign bit deep, completely halving the hapless soldier’s head. Thorton let the sign go and both it and the now completely dead zombie tumbled to the ground.

The major didn’t have time to reflect. Up the street, another soldier was running at him. Thorton’s first thought was Oh shit, they’re all running now? But when he saw the man waving to get his attention, he realized two things. One, this wasn’t a zombie and two, there was supposed to another soldier

Private Hook ran up to Major Thorton and bent over to catch his breath. Thorton waited impatiently with is arms crossed. When he had recovered, Private Hook was to the point.

“Sir. Gomez is dead, got infected by a little shit. Grocery store is full of the fucking things, nearly got me but I found an exit. Only got a few food items, sir.” Private Hook paused to take a breath. “They’re changing, sir.”

Thorton tilted his head to the side. “Explain.”

“Sir, we made a lot of noise getting in, but they didn’t come for us until we could be cut off. If it hadn’t been for the extra door in the butcher shop, I’d be dead, sir. We got trapped but good.”

Major Thorton nodded, processing this bit of news. It fit with some other information he had, none of it encouraging. He shook it off and shouted his orders.

“Get their weapons and gear, then mount up. We’re gone!” He strode to his vehicle and climbed aboard, just as his driver started the engine. They pulled out and moved away from the center of town.

As they passed the grocery store, Ken called a halt. Grabbing a Molotov cocktail from the back of the truck, he stalked over to the broken front door. He could see movement in the gloom and was glad he could send a few more of these bastards to hell.

Thorton threw the bomb in through the door, the flames bursting on an aisle of crackers. He could see several zombies milling about and a few actually came over to the flames to become engulfed. As he walked back to the truck, his anger was starting to mount.

He was infuriated because he lost three men to this nothing town and had very little to show for it. He was angry because he knew that what Talon had said would eventually creep through his men, undermining him and forcing him to take measures.

But worst of all, he was frightened by the implication of what had occurred in the town.

The zombies were showing signs of rudimentary intelligence. If it continued, that meant the end of every living thing on the planet.

Seven hours later, as the sun was winking its last under a darkening sky, Sergeant Milovich was looking over the preparations for the night. The men had travelled quickly and managed to reach the small town before nightfall. The town had been abandoned long ago and anything useful had since been rendered stolen or useless. The town actually sat in a small depression in the land, surrounded by trees. Off in the distance, Milovich could see the arching concrete arteries which once fed the nation, now just graveyards of cars and people.

He had stationed men up near the ridgeline to keep a watch for Talon. The ambush was going to be simple. As soon as the enemy reached the center of the town, they were going to cut him in half. This was going to be easy work.

Milovich was setting up his quarters in an abandoned house for the duration when Corporal Kazinski came bursting through the door.

“Sarge? Sarge?” he called.

“Right here, corporal. What is it?” Milovich’s exhaustion was evident in his voice.

“Found a couple of survivors, sir, thought you might want to see ‘em,” Kazinski announced. He pushed forward a man of about medium height and build, with a long ponytail hanging down his back. His hands were secured behind his back and his eyes darted over Milovich’s uniform and weapons before settling on the floor.