The Case of Blackfield

Chapter 2 - Undead

They were not alive. Not even in the slightest. That thing in front of Detective Stephen Pou was not breathing like a normal human being. It was dead. The once man standing in the light of the ground was looking lifelessly with his grey eyes fixated on the detective. His once sturdy body was healthy, unlike now, as his intestine was hanging from his side as a string bag. The grotesque howl it made sent Steve back a few steps. His muscle reflexes instantly reached for the revolver tucked away behind his shirt. The zombie running towards him with open mouth and horrendous growls was not going to leave him be, as much as he would love for it to pass him by. The gun was out, the bag of his colleague fell however, yet the detective did not hesitate. Pulling on the hammer, the barrel exploded and launched the bullet. Its force was soo brutal that the creature before him fell on the ground almost a few meters before him. Its head was eviscerated. The loud sound of the shot though, still filled his ears with a mind-numbing hum.
  "What the hell is going on here?" - asked the detective.
What did he involved himself with? For god's sake, that was a zombie running towards him. All those thoughts rushed in, letting the man completely understand the situation. His past experience was not enough to further establish him. It was not every day he had to face an enemy that was not alive. For starters, whatsoever, it was not every day he had to shoot at the person he would find shady. Nevertheless, that was not important. What he had to do now, was note the things that happened in his mind and make a decision.
First, his longtime partner and friend had called him here in order for him to help with finding some people. Peter had to help some scientist in research he was not aware of. Once he got here though, he found out the dead corpse trying to kill him. In his mind, the first thing he had to do is call for backup. Reaching in his inside coat pocket, Steve grabbed his phone and almost felt a chill. The battery was dead.
  -Awesome! - He exclaimed and almost threw it.
Then however, he remembered there was a radiophone for special occasions in the glove compartment in the old Mercedes. He cursed himself for not bringing it with himself in the first place. Even so, he turned around and took a few steps. He had a plan and he was going to follow it. As he faced the direction from which he originally came from sadly, the detective was brought up with the missing people.
  "I found them..." - said the voice in his head in a comedic manner.
At least the shadows of fifty people stood in front of him. All dead, all disfigured and horrifyingly gutted like carcasses. Their void like eyes lighted by the red layers of the moon from the sky, made it look as if they were like a pack of coyotes. That was not the worst thing though. They were all walking toward him slowly. The car was not an option, and the bullets in the chamber were missing one of their own. The shell on the ground was still smoking from the fired shot, which was the exact thing that made those creatures come for him. Were they in the surrounding woods or somewhere else, it did not matter. What mattered now was that the detective did not have a clear pathway to his plan. What was the plan now? The zombies in front of him did not let him finish his question. They all screamed in unison. It sounded bone shattering; it resembled the cry of a wounded animal in its final dying moments. The undead beings started running towards the man who did not know what to do than turn around, face the empty city, and pick a building in which to hide in.
  "Run you fool!" - He heard the voice of Gandalf.
If a wizard was not enough to make him a split, he did not know what. Oh...maybe a horde of dead corpses trying to get him. Stephen faced the buildings again and picked one twenty meters away from the house that was nearly destroyed. His shoes were not exactly made for running, but that they did. Forcing all his might in his survival, he booked it out of there, leaving the discovered handbag, laying there to be never found again. The ghoulish creatures followed him as well, their screams closely by. He crossed the fountain and passed it by, finally managing to go beyond the mark of the established center. In front of him now stood an interesting wall of houses and other big buildings. Some were barricaded, as much as possible, some not as much. The building he was heading at did not have a classified name or a sign on which it said what it was. No biggie, it did not matter. He just needed to go inside of it, hope to all gods that it had a decent lock and could withstand the power of a few dozen undead marching against it. Pou could only hope at this point. He was sure that this place lacked any kind of holiness, or at least not anymore.
  "Please, please, please!" - Continuously pleaded the detective, running in his expensive pointy shoes.
His feet almost jumped through the front door, which was strangely open, the main reason he chose this building instead of the others. As he did, Steve quickly turned around and shut it up, turning the switch lock and rotating the key. Both locks clicked, and in the second he did not see the zombies, he heard them collide with the door. The thud they created, followed by the hollow screams and growls made him shiver. The door did not break however, which was probably the best thing that could happen to him.
  "Thank you!" - He said in his head.
To which God was it, he did not care. Some of them helped him, which was all that mattered. A huge sigh in relief went out of his mouth as he tried to reestablish his normal breathing. It was hard to think the things that happened, actually did, but they did. His plans to call backup were now stalled. His path was blocked, and all he had was this old dusty building in which he had locked himself in. At least he was safe from those things. Steve leaned on the large table covered with nothing but dust and cables scattered around like tiny snakes. Now that he could actually see thanks to the flashlight, Pou could observe the room and deduce in what kind of building he was standing in. The whole room was covered with tiny monitors with attached buttons on a plate bellow them. Was this a broadcast station? In this small town? If this was not the best of luck, he did not know what was. The thing is he had to make a plan in order for the whole building to operate. His mind started seeing the bright side of things. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way out of this place. One that did not involve him dying, since technically, he would still leave it. Would he become a zombie though? That was an interesting concept to think about, but not now. Now, he had to focus. Focus on making it out of "Blackfield" alive. Since he was in a broadcasting room, he could use the radio and send a message to the nearest police station. Easier said than done. The monitors were not operable since the power was out. There was a second story to the building so Stephen quickly climbed up and saw the thing he needed. The radio deck was set and only needed power. He could not see a generator nearby since the town was probably still using the old ways of electricity, hence the generators. Only problem was that the nearest source of fuel to activate said generator, was in his car's trunk. He did not really want to expose himself to the dead ones outside, so he had to figure out a way. The thing that guided them was the sound of noise. Any kind would immediately make them come to the producer of it. However, if he could somehow make them turn the opposite way, then make a run for it, and finally try to take the spare fuel and continue in his goal, that would be good. While there, he could even try to establish contact with others. That sounded like a plan. Now he just needed a distraction for said intention. Opening the window, he saw how the horde was dispersing throughout the small city. That was all right. He aimed at the farthest building from the broadcast station and pointed the revolver at the highest window. Trying to aim, he let the hammer hit the barrel, as the shot erupted from the weapon. It was loud, but when the bullet shattered the upper window, the noise was even louder. Glass scattered everywhere on the ground, calling up the undead. It was instantaneous. The horde quickly started running towards the other side.
  "Now it's my turn!" - He said and quickly ran downstairs, unlocked the door and sprinted with all the courage he had in him.
He could only hope the shattered glass was enough of a distraction for what he was about to do. Risk his life, in order to stop the undead.