Foundered

Yarachmiel VIII: Inviting Terror

Yara was concerned, did Jasper even get his hints? Even if he did, would that have been enough time to mount a suitable defence? Are they even alive now? A thousand questions poured in. The voices had stopped though, which was good.

It was nearly midnight; the brown walls still seemed to retain the heat of day, turning his room into an oven. A few more degrees and the room would be unliveable, but even otherwise he could use the night's fresh air. Clearly he needed something more than interaction with metal devices and telepathic zombies.

He looked out into the almost-flat swamplands: it was calm outside, moonlight struck the very thin layer of water and reflected up into his room, giving the illusion of two moons.

He opened the window, resting his arms on the windowsill and looking out, taking in a deep breath of the cold night air – there was death in the air, and also life. Pines and oaks in the distance crackled and danced in the howling gale, like a troupe of dancers they swung one way and the other, bowing their sky-high cones with the breeze.

Wolves prowled the dry grounds, looking for fresh prey to sink their teeth in. He was happy to see them, for once he was looking out to not see ghouls. He watched as they frolicked about, five, maybe six of them. They danced in the night's shadow, and fled away at the sight of trucks.

Trucks! The soldiers were returning! The vehicles that left sixteen hours ago were not returning, an equal amount. Oh, thank goodness, nobody died it seems.

"Nobody indeed," a dismembered voice said to him, "you won this time, next time you won't be that lucky."

"Wait, you lost?" laughed Yara.

"What else do you think?" the Dark Walker wailed. "Although well, I have to give it to you this time: your plan was brilliant, I never thought I'd say that."

"What did they do?" asked Yara, "forgive me; I was left in the dark."

"I thought you'd use conventional means of carpet bombing, so I readied my flyers to take your planes down. Little did I know your comrades lade them with explosives, hoping they'd be caught in battle, and then burst into flames."

"Woah, that's some World War II shit there, Japanese that too."

"I know, I was surprised too. Shame I'm not military historian."

"Or rather were?" asked Yara, "You seem to still keep your intellect, unlike the others that are now just empty shells controlled around by telepathic viruses."

"Of course I still have it, and so do dread zombies. How else do you think we can reason our way around the traps you set up?"

"Then why are you after us? Why are you hell-bent on killing us, as if to vanquish humanity?"

"Exactly that," the voice said, "vanquish humanity. Yes, I wish we could do that without having to go through so much trouble."

"Vanquish humanity... why?"

"Go back a few years, who do you think started all of this? How exactly did it all begin?"

"How exactly? You mean the Third World War?"

"Humanity is frail and stupid, those who have the most power love to impose their will on those who don't. Think of it: Sino-American War, what was America's motive when it entered a war against a superpower? Was it truly just for the liberation of Taiwan and Hong Kong, or was it to eliminate the last remaining communist superpower in the world?"

"Mhm, you make a good point."

"And what of the Tenth Crusade? Was it really because EU wanted to free Israel from the Arab League, or was it to secure the supply of oil?"