The black corridors were bared with dead. Clickers lingered around all over the place freely, after their senses picked up the death of the boss that roamed pass the floors, whilst looking for food. As a matter of fact, it’s particularly the one human who had successfully escaped from the thing for who knows how many times without it detecting his presence. Not to mention after more events occurring in this quiet place, he brought more humans with him, now making the hunt for food harder to reach. None of them were willing to take a great risk by dying once more just to get a bite of flesh as their last meal. Some had seen with their own eyes on how the last Clicker who was dumb enough to get in their way, being bulldozed over by the man who was near as big as the deceased boss, leaving nothing but a searing smoke around the air where it stood before. Several conversations were heard, but their degraded mind only could help to inform them on either a snack was on its way or pure danger was under their noses, letting off a big bang if they got too close.
As the group reached the elevator, they prepared themselves to descend one floor down to go for the armory in search of a Dweller’s favorite sniper rifle. They had all the time in the world now that the survivor was secured, the rescue team didn’t hesitate to let him be. After all, most of the people in the group had something in common, to which the topic was being brought out by one who felt rather annoyed.
“Now why are we letting him get his rifle? I don’t feel like staying here anymore.” A Buster from the back spoke up and was quickly answered by the captain, whom he coldly dropped the man’s self-esteem within the second.
“Every one of us used to be a rescued survivor before, mister. And surely, some of the people definitely had a souvenir in mind to be taken home and remind themselves about their old one,” The captain turned his head to the right of him, adding in, “Besides, don’t make me remind everyone about the fact you had a teddy bear as your souvenir.”
There were laughs from the small crowd, with Francis turning his head away to hide a smile as the somebody could confirmed his face was getting redder behind a helmet’s opaque fiber glass.
“T-That…… that’s my childhood plush toy! There’s nothing you can argue about that! Jimmy! Don’t make me also remind the others you kept a binky instead!”
The laughing got harder and louder, making the Clickers ran away from a creepy group of steel armor. Another Buster protested but was not bothered when every living man was chuckling in their suits, excluding Francis who used his hand to cover his own mouth.
“Do you had to say that, Danny? Great, now the news will spread throughout our home once we get back……”
Jake suddenly held up a hand, silencing the group in three seconds. He had his head shifted to his left, towards the corridor they just went by, as if something was going to emerge from there. It wasn’t the Clicker horde though; the purification plant that was flooded by an alarming number of more than seventy Clickers had the men sweating profusely, leaving Francis as the one cool and collected as he passed by so often that it was a norm to him. However, no zombie dared themselves to overwhelm them with a major number, seeing how they retreated back to the corners of the wide room, not even budging forward and thus left alone to play with two advanced grenades thrown by one of the Busters and Bladers. The results were a double-boom happening simultaneously with some gore flying out of the door that was mercilessly crushed by many pairs of feet, each producing a squish or a squash. But since the matter was over and checked that there were no remaining undead, they continued their foot walk for roughly two minutes to the elevator, and Jake felt unsure of the thing he heard.
“What is it, captain?” The Tank asked.
“……” Jake shushed him, motioning with a finger.
“Captain?” Johnny asked again, this time with a soft whisper.
“I hear something……”
“Me too.” Francis added, joining in the guessing together with him, right until he mentioned an ‘Oh no’.
“What’s the sound, Roger?”
“It’s fire……”
Back at the hideout, the barrels of flammable liquid stood still, only to be able to find one of them to have a scratched dent, slowly leaking the gooey stuff down to the floor, apparently due to the shotgun pellet mostly deflected all but one that made a very tiny slit in it. The Mole Tank they encountered earlier had a large hole in the drill, revealing loads of broken circuits, creating sparks like fireworks that spewed over the floor, and as it landed on the little gasoline river near itself, the worst was coming.
A flame was awakened, growing bigger and bigger by the moment and dragging itself back to the source, sputtering smoke and crackled loudly to send the sound over the current floor. Only those who had good ears could sense a faint burst of it, where the expert duo had picked up a man-made disaster waiting to reap some souls of both the living and the dead.
“Jake, the gasoline cans!” Francis yelled to him and was answered quickly.
“Johnny, your shield!”
As fast as the Clickers, the large Tank set his cannon down in front of the team to make a pillar that started generating a blue barrier consisted of a honeycomb pattern. And without further warning, the fire had consumed the room, settling over the canister that could no longer withstand the heat, eating the fire to fuel its burning point. An ear-splitting boom went over the men, followed by a pathway to hell coming their way, crashing into the high tech shield which responded back with a crack upon impact. Johnny felt the push of pressure from the fire, setting his foot firmly on the ground to prevent him from falling. Everyone was feeling the heat even behind a wall of cyber and in ventilated armor. Francis himself stood at the far back, knocked off by a sudden hot force and gaping in shock as a part of the fire got out through the gaps of the shield they had. Just before it breaks and made them vulnerable especially to their survivor, the two red armor man held their weapons up, releasing a strong stream of flames to fight fire with fire, each like two dragons blowing their breaths against each other with anger. The temperature then dramatically increased by several degrees Celsius, making the only one who doesn’t have armor sweat trickling down his body. Fire engulfed everyone’s vision with a strong light of a marigold shading, blinding all including the Serpents. Luckily, after a few second of watching two orange fires from opposing sides stopping each other, the hostile flame died down first, steadily reverting the surroundings to a more suitable condition of suitable warmth after a momentary superheating from opposing sides. The two Serpents dropped and lay on the floor, breathing hard from the sudden counter with their weapon’s element, the backpacks they had wear revealed to have dull red lines with a whirring of an electronic shutdown.
“Sir, how about next time, we…… huff…… bring a Wolf with us?” Johnny asked with one knee on the ground, inspecting his cannon that had one part painted by the strong explosion with a clean layer of carbon black, the large blaster looking rather unstable from the inside after excess heating, giving glitches in the lights and diodes. His armor was too, looking slightly fried after his shield broke into shards and disappearing into nothingness, having a powerful blow of dents over his front from the thermal explosion, the glass possessing the smallest crack one couldn’t see with the naked eye of a common human. It was a tough concussion to get over with, by the time everyone recovered, they were unable to believe what stood before them. Looking back at the corridor, it was similar to a black abyss, there being as dark as the night and Francis got confused of whether this place belonged to his Vault or not. Some plates of metal used for the construction of this corridor got torn off in the blast, leaving a large part of the floor bared with overflowing wires and electronic software for their own purposes, some spitting sparks that vanished quickly into the air. What everyone could do was stare in disbelief of the damage done by six barrels of gasoline in a majorly confined space, as this was a first experience to all in a front row seat from an incomplete combustion.
“Captain, are you guys all right? We heard something from above just now. Are you all okay?”
Though without wasting another second after a reminder from the bottom level of five people, everyone else, even the Tank got ready to get down a level, for it was like something was staring from it and nobody wanted to find out. The harmless sparks however, only added in the extra horror they needed to be told that it was not worth the risk to walk into a smoldering tunnel of shadows. The embers still emit a scorching glow that lit one small bit of the tunnel’s end, creating a minor eerie spook of Halloween. The safety clips were clicked in place and disturbed the silence once in a while, as one by one the men with tensed emotions slid down the shaft’s rope. Although Francis doesn’t know, the team only began receiving expeditions and missions out of their home since several days ago, this bailing mission being their second one while Jake his sixteenth. With so little experience from the last one, this group of newbies still were able to take on the challenge of facing some little problems out of expectation. For such, the first day after their departure, they had been assaulted by many Z hordes, with some species beyond their league. It was fortunate for beginner’s luck, a good commander and a high morale group brought them here alive and somehow, unharmed. The journey itself was rough, but they were trained to face this beforehand, giving them the advantage first. As for the exploration in buildings, ruins, supermarkets or maybe…… Vaults……
They’re on their own for this, and relied on two things to get this far; instinct, with a path laid out by destiny.
This was the simple life of adventuring out in the unknown.
----------------------------------------
“Has anyone got a cloth?”
Roger asked the men, whom they stood still next to him as they responded to his request by looking for a rag or something when they reached the armory. They found his sniper rifle, slightly coated in dust when it was left behind for a long week. The group later obtained a little dirty cloth stuffed in somewhere in the lockers nearby, blasting off the lock with a devastating stream of white beams, turning a chunk of the door into new forged metal, bubbling on the ground with a hiss. They had shot a few of these locks to open it with brute force. At first, the team asked their survivor for the locker’s key, but when he said he…… ‘dropped’ it by accident down to the lowest level, nobody wanted to waste time to get a formal lock pick or a crowbar just to fish out a piece of sewn fabric. The cloth they searched from the fifth locker had an unhealthy number of cobwebs made by an insect’s predator, when the door won’t give way to let somebody in for months to come. Today, when that locker was open, the men were scared by one really large mutant spider whose fangs could pierce the armor they’re equipped with, surprisingly how it was able to cling onto life under the lack of food and stayed so silent for so long in an entrapment. The mouth of that monster drooled acid with a toxic and pungent smell, dripping the liquid that melted out a hole in the floor. And even when it was a dangerous beast that now craved for a big meal, another overkill was done on the poor thing.
With no further warning after it leapt onto the closest member who wore a torn Vault suit, it was cut off in mid-air by multiple slashes and a maelstrom of eye blinding beams. In a second, the body of one spider was diced into bite sized meat and disgusting organs that oozed out the same acidic slime, but everyone had to agree that how it looked a lot like monster sushi when they hadn’t heard much of the food before since the Apocalypse. Some of the floor and wall parts got singed in black. Decent sized holes were done almost perfectly to ruin the structure of the room.
“Ugh. Yuck.” A man in armor stated.
“Yeah, really gross, but I don’t know why, it looked tasty.”
Somebody in the front of the group answered back and the others solemnly nodded their heads, only to raise their guns afterwards when the dead spider’s legs twitched abruptly in the mass pile. After finding it to be just an after death reaction, the team lowered them but still felt jumpy and uneasy, since the events they faced were still being processed in their respective minds. Before the first wave receded, another one takes its place, then a third and fourth. Back outside the Wasteland, the rescue team just stumbled upon very little numbers of zombies whose attributes were of a common Walker that was many times less sensitive than the Clicker.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
And that was just a start. None of the zombies they faced had a new species of some sort, and the surviving creatures of the Wasteland were smart enough to not get so close to a moving annihilate squad. For many times, the team was on alert even in their sleep in case of an assault. However, when it comes to the terms of how well they were trained…… that was something new to the Dweller.
Seeing how that the slimey, gross spider’s body in pieces still moving, they just did an early preparation of ensuring it’s completely dead and not faking it, although the odds were zero.
All they needed to do was let one Tank use his malfunctioned cannon as a makeshift hammer that could shake the Vault with one hit……
“So I get to crush an insect to mash? Cool!”
“……”
……Although the results got out with a satisfying grin hidden by a helmet instead of hesitation. Everyone was able to witness the enthusiastic cannon held high under the dim light, and then swung straight down like an anchor with the help of a small portion of gravity and a generous portion of thrust.
“BAAAAAANG!”
The echoes were deafening, bouncing through every nook and cranny indoors but just enough for the Clicker on the lower level to pick up the source, and this time, they ran away from it.
They ran, jumped, and climbed away fast.
Really, really fast.
Francis fished out the cloth; dark, dirty and dusty like the sniper from the tangle of broken webs, violently shaking off the sticky strings and grabbing his spare bottle of water out in the meantime. The bottle cap was opened and the contents were poured over for a wash, with the cloth just enough for a good wipe on what was meant to be cleaned. By now, the second Clicker horde already recovered from the fright and some were currently on their way to investigate. A large group of the men were blasting at the door, a plain but beautiful light show with white illuminating the dark outside. Plenty of corpses were splattered perhaps with a new form of energy weapons, intrigued and curious of the insides by one Francis Roger. He had come up with a myriad of possibilities what weapon was it after the many involuntary demonstrations by the men, but to the point his mind was blank except for two words; no results.
So if he were to get to the bottom of this, he had to follow them back to wherever they came…… and correction; to the Borders of Beyoncé. Whatever it could be behind the thick mist laid over there will remain a mystery, as Francis was sure he won’t be coming back to the Wasteland anytime soon. What he could do before he set his two feet out into the scorching sunlight will be taking his trusty companion with him, even if there weren’t any bullets to fire with. Though, he was pretty sure the troop may have the ammo he required if they wished for any extra assistance.
He hummed himself a tune as he began cleaning the rifle, which started to gleam under dim radiance once it was tended well. Jake stood nearby and decided to take a seat next to him, surprised of the quality this weapon had when the leader had a better one.
“That’s a nice rifle you have as a souvenir.”
“Thanks. I appreciate the compliment.”
“…… I take it that you’re a Vault explorer?”
“Yes.”
“Then why choose this sniper? I heard it’s a bad weapon to use out in the open when you’re on your own, alone and no help from your home.”
“Yeah, you’re right. This is indeed a bad weapon of choice, though that is when you’re on your own.”
“……Wait, you explore in groups?”
“Exactly.” The man cleaning his sniper gave a firm nod.
Francis wasn’t going to brag or expose a secret or something regarding his Vault’s expeditions. Very often the Overseer was concerned about the safety of the Dwellers he sent out to explore and salvage some junk or Caps. So to add in the best insurance of their lives, Vault 256 had a unique rule of sending a team of six each time such a thing happened. Nobody complained on the fact they needed to stick together from the day this rule was enforced, but they were more like very grateful that at least someone will be watching their backs from now on. The only setback for the explorations was that every team instantly requested for a long ranged gunner, seeing that most of the weapons in the Vault were shotguns and revolvers. Medics were of no problem when the doctors from the med-bay volunteered to follow on an exploration. And from all of the teams that went out to scavenge, it was confirmed that there was a member being the scout, a doctor and one being the person to cover far places with bullets; that is the sniper man. The upside was that they do have one sniper wielder.
And unfortunately, the one and only.
“Wow, times must have been harsh when you’re going in and out a lot of times from your home sweet home, eh?”
“Yeah, and I can’t forget some of those tough moments especially during the time I was enlisted in several groups at once. That was a busy month I had to endure until the Overseer gave me half a year’s break to ease my tensed muscles. The experience of all of that walking and running…… that’s one unforgettable memory for me.”
“I know that feeling, dude,” Jake answered with a pat on Roger’s shoulder, “But trust me, you’re going to enjoy a better trip if you’re willing to join our team as soon as we got back to our home.”
“Ah, yes…… my soon to be new home……”
At that moment, Francis stopped wiping his rifle which should be clean enough to meet his standards. His eyes were looking at nowhere while his mind spaced out.
“Francis?”
“So…… how does your home look like, Jake? Is it comfortable? Is it relaxing?”
“Ah, that, uh……”
Jake was momentarily stunned by the little question, but was able to answer it after some time. The reason he couldn’t answer straightaway was because, as a matter of fact, never asked before.
“So how do I begin this……? Well, for a first, it’s indefinitely comfortable; if you ignore the point you had to live with twenty-nine more people in the same room and stuff. Though, life just couldn’t get any better. You get food, you get water and warm showers. Mm…… probably what I can say so far. Does it sound nice?” Jake abruptly twiddled his fingers as he spoke his thoughts, the simple ideas coming to him while he glanced at Francis with a flat blue face.
“Can’t say it’s not. Sounds exactly like what a Vault could give you.”
“Err…… It’s not what you think however. I had to admit, it’s is a Vault, but then at the same time, it’s…… not?”
“Sorry, I think you lost me over there. It’s a Vault and…… not a Vault? I don’t get it.”
“Yeah, most people don’t get it either, that’s what the men who rescued me said to me before. Until when I take a look inside the Vault, that is where I realized they’re right. You’ll find out yourself when we finally get back.”
“Ok……”
“……So you finished cleaning your sniper already?” Jake asked him as he watched the entrance.
“Just a little more while, Jake.” Francis replied while he proceeded in wiping the nozzle with care.
At first, Jake himself was feeling all right once he was done in securing the survivor, and yet he was now feeling unwell with a small bit of worry, the sound of gunning still piercing the stale air for quite some time. White streams of light just seemed to spit out at a ridiculous rate with no end. But Jake was actually multitasking himself while he had a chat with the survivor, and from his brain that was still storming out all the impulses to his body, he was sure something was off. Clickers don’t simply attack without an alarming number to overwhelm others.
“Ok, I’m done with cleaning my…… is there anything wrong?” Francis questioned the captain who stood up and stared at the entrance flashing with countless beams. The man in armor racked up his calculations as he answered back with a question.
“Francis, how many Dwellers live in this Vault?”
“A hundred and fifty including me, approximately.”
“Since how long did the corpses started rising into the undead?”
“Roughly a month ago, perhaps? Ah, correction, about two weeks ago.”
“Then how many zombies did you killed before we got here?”
“Thirty to forty, I guess? What’s the problem?”
“Sir, we can’t hold on much longer! Do hurry up! We’re almost low on ammo!” A man in the group shouted as he continued to fire shot after shot, the sound of growls and groans growing louder. At that same time, Jake’s mind had found the answer to the problem when his head blared a siren.
“Guys, we’re leaving, now! Johnny, make an opening and the rest of you, provide cover for him!”
“Sir, yes, sir!” The team responded.
For one thing, Jake was sure he did not suck in math.
Forty kills from Francis plus seventy and a hundred and fifty kills from the team does not give you a hundred and fifty.
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The horde just never seemed to stop coming. Rather than a decrease in bodies, the team was beginning to face a decrease in ammunition. This was actually and unusually expected by the large group of walking corpse deep in floor twelve, whom they smartly waited for the time being to expand their numbers through a significant cheating way. They had no clue on how they got the idea however, it’s simply just the instinct of a predator. The ones who lingered around the floor just went here and there, but never going upstairs. On occasional terms, a number of them came down for a…… ‘visit’. There was no proper word to describe that this wasn’t a small trip of a couple of floors down to the water excavation site, but the sight of a few zombies growling among each other was something new; if anyone was able to brave themselves to film it.
What became so common underground in the horde was them making groans and mild roars as their daily afterlife communication, chatting as they spared some time until they picked up foreign sounds from above and hunt down whatever did that noise. Until then, the talk was non-related to any kind of topic other than asking the well beings of others. It was really strange to see them do such weird chattering, as if the language came from a different world and was practiced by the undead. Though, it’s no doubt that evolution was doing its task to make anyone and everyone a faster, stronger being.
The sad part of this true fact was that it’s everyone included those who rose from the dead. The Clickers were made from living under a silent surrounding, giving them time to develop powerful and enhanced ears that could tell the difference between a Hertz out of two similar sounds. What was more difficult to understand about the evolution path of other zombies were pretty much concealed from within, since there weren’t much survivors to say how it was until they try it out themselves, and to which meant they’re dead already.
The water source dug out from a specific spot chosen a month ago remained crystal clear but was partially tainted black with some floating corpses on its surface. Because of that, not only the entire source was no longer a freshwater supply, but now the others were not willing to even get close to it.
If there’s one lesson for the zombies who made it until now, it’s don’t set yourself as the example for anything in your afterlife, or the end result will be death and no other way.
Today was like no other; there were a lot of ‘visits’ done by the Clickers of various floors, greeting each other with a light growl and continued with groans to start off a conversation. Somewhere in the fourth group that came here were proceeding with a daily talk relating to the human that was currently roaming around the floors with people in suits, laughing by making sad moans to describe their happiness and satisfaction that a plan had finally went well.
“Grarr…… Rarhhggg!”
One made some gestures with a pair of hands that came with limp fingers, swinging in the air about with a stiff motion, trying hard to let its friends know the situation, to which the other two nodded with bobbing heads, always tilting to a side.
“Rargghhh…… Grrr……”
A second zombie responded back, seeing how their so called plan was more effective than they thought it would be, claiming it was worth all the waiting.
“Grahh! Rahgg!”
The third one was on the other hand, more excited as it was glad that it will soon be over and more of them will be joining the group to unite as one.
“Rarrghhh……” The first two answered back in agreement.
So to say how did the place felt weird was that the trio were looking at the horde which now exceeded three digits and were wandering to where there was space to put their feet on. The ground floor…… as to say the lowest floor was piled up with loads of dead flesh, permeating the air with a horrible stink that could par with a mountain of decade-old socks. They were at first startled by the noise they usually would chase after, only to find that it was from a particularly heavy weapon smashing whatever that was squishy and were now on their way to get some fresh meat; the humans.
For a first, they hadn’t dared to venture out of their main hangout spot as they were no match to the guns these new people had brought in, demonstrated by the death of their local bully, the Mole Tank.
But now, something inside their dead hearts told them to wait for the right moment to strike, and when given the chance to do so, they didn’t hesitate for a second. The horde was unfortunately, not decreasing, and the more you look at it, the higher the odds you found the reason. If the black shade of water wasn’t enough to make anyone heave and throw their lunch up, then the hazy green fog that decorated the place will surely raise that probability to a perfect hundred. It was foul, it was a smell to be recognized. It was the air produced by concentrated stink and traces of the zombie virus. The noxious gas diffused through all over the crowded cave, seeping and infecting the soft, damp ground, turning its shade into a sickly shitty brown and green. Still, what made it suspicious was something that lurked beneath this polluted soil.
Because as if on cue when the site was emptying itself, there was a slight tremble coming before the undead trio as they took a glimpse around the coarse dirt they stood. The pebbles and bits of debris began to hop violently from place to place, making a dramatic entrance for what was about to come and haunt the Vault and any visitor who’s brave enough to peek in this hollow cave.
Or, in this case, a horrific entrance.
The dirt cracked open, and a decomposed hand poke out of the hole, grasping with a deadly strength, pulling what laid underneath the soil to be introduced into a world of dead trees, infertile lands and an eternal heat wave that blazed through both day and night.
“RAARRRGGHH!!!”
A frilling roar from a rising dead from the ground broke the silence in the green fog, the zombie climbing out of nothing but the dirt rather than a tombstone with a corpse buried in it. The nasty body got up from its non-existing slumber, stretching stiff limbs and shaking off the remnants of earth sticking to its decaying skin, letting out a second growl of fury to declare its very arrival.
That was however, not the first time this event had occurred, for the undead trio welcomed another dead into the horde with lifeless eyes, watching it dashing to the shaft with the others. They were used to this five minutes ago, their patience in the middle of paying off its efforts to grow a threat in numbers.
After all, there were many, many more hands sticking out behind the one zombie who just left, ready to bring more of the dead into this very battle with something one couldn’t imagine.
A zombie breeding ground.