The zombie game

chapter 30

Ron was driving the truck, speeding down the cracked street. He had glanced in the back before leaving and had found a worthy stock of weapons, most of which he was able to use. He had been a cop, yes, but he had went to shooting ranges with some buddies and had fired a variety of different weapons, so he knew how to use most of them effectively. He would soon be to the CDC—he had to stop the impending massacre.

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Dave paced back and forth, his hands clasped behind his back, wondering when he should kill Joe, Ken, Linda and Tom. He figured he would force them to watch was he was about to do next, and then in the chaos he would kill them before taking over the CDC. He walked back into the room and looked at a hapless Joe just sitting there, bound, unable to move.

“You know,” said Dave, “how I said I had something to show you?”

“Yes,” nodded Joe.

“This is it,” said Dave.

“What?” People were beginning to act weird. A couple of sudden gunshots rang out and Joe turned his head in horror, watching as a man fell to the ground, landing face down. Blood was pouring down his back. A chatter of machine gun fire echoed through the halls. It had begun.

“This my friends is stage one,” said Dave, chuckling to himself.

“You monster!” shouted Joe. He tried lunging at Dave, but was effortlessly pushed backward. Joe turned his head and saw a couple of guards shooting unarmed people brutally.

“How the fuck can you live with yourself?!” demanded Tom. “What the fuck did these people do to you.”

“They did nothing—the thing is, you were the ones who tried thwarting me...tried killing me...and now all these innocent little people need to die,” said Dave. A man was crawled toward the door, blood bubbling up and out of his mouth. Dave raised his pistol and fired, shooting the man through the head. Joe and his friends just watched in disgust and horror at what was happening. He was wriggling around in his chair, trying to get out, wanting to jump on Dave, pounce on him, strangle him, make him suffer, and then wring his neck.

“Dispose of them,” Dave spat, “I have no use for them anymore.” A couple of guards that were standing in the room grabbed Joe, untied him, and pushed him forward toward the horror beyond. Tom, Linda, and Ken followed, being pushed by soldiers. Joe had just given up.

He knew what was happening; everyone around him was dying. He briefly thought back to when he had gotten back from school seemingly so long ago and had seen his mom and dad lying in the bed, dead, bloodstained, unable to move, unable to do anything again. A man was felled up a shotgun, the pellets carving a trench in his side. Blood soaked his side, dripping onto the floor.

The events unfolding before Joe was like a slow motion shot from a movie; it seemingly took forever for Joe and his friends to be led to the chamber where they would die, or wherever the hell they would die. Joe wished that the soldier could just throw him to the floor and shoot him right there, where everyone else seemed to be dying. The world seemed to be ending all over again.