All Flesh Must Be Gnawed Upon

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(Blame Ara for the title...)


Edward slowed his partol car down and stopped behind the car he'd just pulled over. He checked his uniform and walked over to the other car. Just as the window was rolled down, he jumped slightly as the radio at his belt crackled into life.

"All units report in, all units required at station. Return to station immediately."

He swore, and waved the car away. Getting back into his own, he sped off back towards the local station.
What the hell was wrong that they were calling every unit back to the station? Did it have anything to do with the infection that'd been going around?

 

Caleb locked the office as he stepped out into the night. It had been a long day. He and Leah had argued about all kinds of things and he felt drained.

He had heard the reports of the infection but was more worried about being mugged. His office was in a nice part of town that sometimes lured the dregs out in search of white collar cash. He unlocked his BMW 328i and jumped in. He longed for the days when he investigated kidnappings and other misdemeanors. They introduced him to colorful people. Now he investigated white collar crimes and they usually were dealings with disgruntled employees to scared to get a gun and shoot up the office.

It paid him well but he would've felt better helping people. He was thinking about a trip to Cancun when he almost ran the red light. He noticed at the last second and stomped on the brakes. The 328's discs grabbed hard and he screeched to a stop just as 5 police cars flew past.

Catching his breath he waited until the light turned green he carefully eased into the intersection watching for the cherries that would signify the impending high speed crash.

It took him about 40 minutes to get home. Unlocking the door he was by Leah in a small lace set of lingere "Well today got a lot better." He muttered as she led him to the bedroom.

[ November 24, 2006, 06:39: Message edited by: Benan ]

 

BRAAAAAAINS, moaned the zombie I had just hit with a bat. I didn't really know if he was indeed a zombie, but by his very recognizable catchphrase and his fear of rap music, I just assumed. People had been saying things about some sort of.. infection, but I hadn't heard anything significant. By the look of his outfit, I believed he really did need the brains. His head squashed like an over ripe melon as I poked him with my bat. Oh my bat. How I love my bat. It's just so.. trusty.

"CUT! This line is soooo stupid. Why am I rambling on about a bat, when they are many many zombies parading around like they own the place."

"Because it's a movie. A crappy one at that. About zombies. You do the math. Just shut up and do your lines, it's not like you're a good actor anyway." His director stated matter-o-factly.

"Oh.. well, yes. Anyway, I try to make the best of things, and do as well as I--"

"JUST SHUT UP, AND DO--" Kyle giggled and whispered, your mom after the the word "do", and received a stern glare from the crew, "AND JUST SAY YOUR LINES!"

A bang on the window turned the crew's attention to the window, where a bloody, sickly-looking chap was banging on the window in a ferocious rage.

"Oh, that must be the zombie for tonight's scene." Various members of the crew then began commenting on his great acting skills.

"Oooh, he's good."

"He has his makeup done and everything!"

"I wonder if that froth is toxic.. I need to get some..."

[ November 28, 2006, 01:14: Message edited by: Elwithral Irenicus ]

 

Ed wandered in to the room, and leant over the desk of the dispatch sergeant.

'Rose, what's going on?'

She handed him a cup of coffee. 'Problems downtown. The riots have beeng etitng worse, and there's not enough SWAT to cover them all.

'So we're going in?' He took a sip of the coffee.

'Seems so,' she replied, and leant back quickly when he spat out the coffee.

'Rose! You always put cream in this!'

She smiled. 'Yeah, because it's fun when you do that.'

'Ed, in here please,' a voice sounded from the next room.

'See you later honey,' he said to her as he walked from the room.

'Ed? Be careful, okay? There's been strange reports coming in about these riots.'

'I'll be fine. After all, I owe you one for the coffee. Oh, Bartle's at eight, okay?'

She smiled. 'Sure. I'll dress nice for you too.'

'I can hardly wait.'

He walked into the other room, where it seemed like every officer form the station was present.

'If Edward is quite finished seducing my dispatch sergeant, perhaps we can begin the briefing?'

Ed waved a hand. 'Of course, Captain.'

'Right. As you know, the riots downtown have been getting worse over the last week. Rumpours about this infection have been spreading, and before you ask, no. We don;t have any more news on it.
The riot squads and SWAT are now unable to conain the riots by themselves, and have asked us to provide support. So, we're going to suit up and maintain the piece in the area around Dage's Park and the Southern Bridge.'

'Ah!' muttered Mike Jones, another officer. 'Hookertown!'

'You'll fit in fine then. Try to keep your mind on the job,' replied the Captain. 'Right everyone, go and get your riot gear. The vans leave in ten minutes.'

 

They call me Tracer, Tracer Bullet. I'm a private eye. Don't believe me? It says so on my door. I trace down bad guys and usualy put a bullet in 'em, hence the name Tracer Bullet. I only have two friends, one's in a holster and the other in a hip flask. Maggie and MacKay, the only friend a man like me can have. A knock came through the dim smoky room, a damsel opened the door and looked into the haze. I like to keep me room dark and smoky, it gives the mysterious arua. Don't worry the smoke is incense, I may be an alcoholic, but I don't smoke. It gives you cancer or something, well I guess everything these days gives you cancer. I even heard from one of my contacts that a sun roof is now called a moon roof, because the Sun gives you skin cancer. Talk about paranoid, but that's who my clients are, paranoid fathers about to have married kids, mothers who don't like the girls boy friend, wives who think their husbands a drunk, and husbands who think their wives are playing around with the neighbour, and not Scrabble if you get what I mean.

"Excuse me, are you Tracer? THe private eye?

"Who dares disturbed my rest?" I ask back as I lean back in the padded wooden chair. "What you here for? Your husband?"

"Yes, actually. How did you know?"

"You seem the type." I say, I try being coy. Chicks like *******s.

"Well, actually my husband is acting strange, he has been in the bathroom for two days, fumbiling at the door handle, finaly he just broke down the door, and walked out the door. He hasn't been back since."

"Before, stop saying actually, it's annoying. But it seems we've got a runner. He got sick of you and left you. If you send me after him, I'll just find him doing a girl in some motel bedroom." He smiled devilishly. "If you need a shoulder to cry on and a bed to share. I've got a couch"

The damsel was shocked, like she didn't believe me, she was playing hard to get. I like when the dames do that. But, unfortunately she was a runner. She left, and slammed the door bearing my name.

"Another dame," he stated into the recorder. "Out di by my charm."

I reach into my jacket and pull it out. It's empty, I need to get a new supply. There was a store below, I went into the hall and pressed the elevator button, the dame must've took it and it was on the bottom floor. I guess I'll walk. I walk into Eddy's Everything Emporium, I walk to the end of the aisle, and grabbe the stuff, I slip in a slushie, Eddy ws getting careless, I could hear him thrashing about, in the back room. I put my monay down, and yell out I owe him a fiver. As I step out into the new rain, a running man nearly clips me off. He doesn't even have the decency to say sorry. I hurt, but I got over it. I'm tough, I'm a man. I take a swig, I had you guessing there, I went to get more Scotch, as I told you before, I'm an alcoholic. The residents in the ****ty apartment, beside my ****ty office building were thrashing about aswell. I hate this city, everyone's getting laid, escept me. Well, my foot long paper lovers are waiting under the couch.

 

Ed leant against the wall, shield and baton held loose in his hands, helmet unstrapped.

Nothing was happening. Where the hell were the riots? Where were the...who's that?

A figure was slowly making its way down the street, shambling almost.

Drunk or stoned, Ed wondered. It moved closer. It was a woman, he noticed.

'Do you need some help?' he shouted.

She moved closer. She seemed to be injured.

'I said, do you need some help?'

The woman lifted her head.

'Holy s**t!' She had her throat ripped out, her skin was a grey-green, and she looked more like a corpse than a living person. 'What the hell?'

 

Sam poured some more hot water onto the windshield of his car, it had frozen over again. He wandered if it was some cruel twist of fate that his leave from the army always seemed to herald bad weather, nevermind, he was just glad to be home at all.

He carried the tea pot back into the house and put it in the kitchen, then rapping his scarf around his neck he grabbed his keys and left. He was going to the theatre tonight, a bit of culture would do him good he thought, a few months in the barracks could blunt ones tongue a bit he chuckled to himself.

He saw the diversion sign as he pulled up to the junction, and sighing turned to follow it, lucky he'd left nice and early. Hopefully it wouldn't force him to go through the downtown area, he'd been hearing about the riots on the radio...

 

Caleb was standing at the front window of his small house. Drinking a glass of water he watched as a few people lumbered around on the street.

There was a pub a few blocks away so Caleb figured it was a couple of guys who had enjoyed the night a wee bit to much. Nothing wrong with that, nothing at all.

With a sudden bang, a woman slammed into the front window, causing Caleb to jump and spill his water. He stared at her as she turned a stumbled away.

"Jesus, I'm going back to bed." He muttered to himself and he walked up the stairs to his and Leahs bedroom.

 

There was nothing else Ed could do. She was hammering away at his riot shield, and she'd get past it soon. He smashed her head with his baton. She should have stopped. She should have dropped. She should be unconcious.

He wasn't. She carried on scrabbling for him. So, he hit her again, and again, and again unti, she dropped.

'Did I kill her?' he asked in horror. Then he heard the moans behind him.

There were more. Many more. Many hundreds more.
He started to run.

 

Adam had kept the bar shut all day. It was bad for business, but with the riots, the police had ordered it. The only thing worse than civil unrest was drink fuelled civil unrest.

He was standing behind the bar with a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass when there was a loud bang on the door. He jumped a little, but got over it quickly. "Piss off!" he yelled at the door. No way was he letting the rioters in. Another bang, and scratching. Fingernails on the door, scratching incessantly.

With a growl, Adam grabbed an empty vorka bottle from off the floor, and ran around to the door. Taking a breath, he slid open the deadbolt and pulled the heavy door open. The visitor had obviously been leaning on the door, because he collapsed face first onto the pub floor. Adam took a sudden step back, and raised the bottle.

The guy was a mess. His clothes were dirty and there were several large patches of blood on his shirt. As Adam watched him, shocked, he dragged himself to his feet and gazed at Adam with blank, dead eyes. Blood poured from a wound on his neck, and his entire bottom jaw was missing. As he lunged forward, the vodka bottle collided with the side of his head. He stumbled sideways, and as he went to get back up, Adam drove the now broken bottle into the side of his skull.

Silence dropped over the room for a full 5 minutes, before Adam slid to the floor against a wall. What the hell was this? Without a word, he picked up the half full bottle of whiskey he had been drinking, a short pool cue, and dashed out into the street.

 

Ed cannoned into a man emerging from a pub. He grabbed tha man's arm and hauled him to his feet.

'Run!' he yelled, as he saw the crowd of infected people round teh corner behind him.
'Get moving, quick!'

He pumped his arms, sheild strapped to his bicep, baton at his waist, and he fumbled at his belt to make sure the pistol was still there.

He looked back over his shoulder, and saw that some of the crowd were moving faster than the others. Some seemed to be almost normal, apart from the wounds. They were starting to run now, catchign up to the Police Officer and the man from the bar.

'Run faster! Next left! There's a few squads in the Square,' Ed panted to the man.

 

As Adam stepped out of the pub, he was sent flying by a cop dressed in riot gear. he landed heavily on his side, and pain shot through his arm. The bottle he'd carried out the pub had smashed, and a piece of it was lodged in his arm. With a grunt, he was pulled to his feet. When he turned to where the cop was pointing, he barely believed his eyes. Hundreds of them, maybe a thousand or more. Some shambling, some running. And he wasn't moving. And they were running. it didn't take him long to realise this was a bad thing.

Snatching the pool cue off the floor, he spun round and ran after the cop, a trail of blood dripping behind him.

 

"Dammit" exclaimed Sam as he turned another corner, he came face to face with a trail of tail lights stretching into the distance, this was rediculous. He waited a few minutes, listening to the beeping of horns in the distance, he decided that he wasn't going anywhere fast so he got out to stretch his legs.

Wandering down the queue of traffic he saw other people had done the same as him, he walked up to a friendly looking guy.

"Hey, any idea whats going on?"

"Haven't you heard!?" the man looked genuinly surprised "Theres a massive riot down town, police have practically shut down the roads around it, its like a bloody quarinteen!"

"Dammit, any idea how long until they get the traffic moving?"

"Sorry mate, you might aswell try and make pigs fly, I've been here for a good hour or so"

"I'll go see if I can go find someone to talk to, thanks for the info." Sam began to walk away.

I was a good 10-15 minute walk to the front of the queue, and when he arrived all he saw were riot police and riot vans blocking the road...where was this so called riot?...suddenly there was a lull in the noise, and in it could be heard a low moaning noise, like a thousand people sighing in unison...looking down the street he saw a mass of shadowy figures walking towards the riot vans, the police began to form into a line.

What was going on?...people in riots don't walk...or moan so forlornly for that matter...

Then the crowd was close enough to see in all its macabre detail, they were stained in blood, some missing limbs...one appeared to have a chunk missing from his side...there was no way those people could be alive surely!...Sam felt sick...There was a struggle, then they broke through the riot line and Sam was running for his life...

 

Ed hurtled round the corner, and thanked God when he saw the vans and large group of police officers. He skidded to a stop next to the Captain, who raised a questioning eyebrow at the blood stains over Ed's shield.

'Riot...coming...hundreds...infected...have to leave,' he panted.

His statement was verifed when the first of the crowd rounded the corner after him. The Captain;s eyes widened.

'Form a shield wall!' he ordered, hefting his own one.
'There's hundred of them behind that lot!' Edward proested. 'We can't hold them!'

'Form wall!'

'Damn it all!' Ed raised his sheild, and drew his pistol, keeping it hidden. He had a feeling he'd have to use it soon. As he moved to the wall, he noticed a shotgun sat in the open back of a van. He filed this piece of information away for later use.

He took his place just in time. The horde reached the line just as he settled, and were beaten back by batons. A second rush was suitably knocked back, but the crowd was getting larger.

The third rush knocked the line back and broke it, people streaming through, clawing at officers. A man bleeding heavily from the head grabbed at Ed's arm, and tried to bite it. Ed pistol-whipped him, and tried to move back, but he was surrounded.

'Fire at will!' The cry came from furtehr down the line, the Captain's voice. Ed nodded swiftly, and raised his gun. People crowded him, trying to tear him apart. He opened fire, and broke out of the enclosing circle, pushing with his shield, making for the vans. He reached the one he's noticed earlier, and grabbed the shotgun, pumping a round into the chamber.

 

Sam had lost track of where he was going, but as he came hurtling around a corner he saw a group of riot vans and police in the centre of an open square, they were beginning to form up and a quick glance to one of the streets revealed why, another crowd of...well whatever they were...was coming.

He charged across to the riot vans, safely behind the wall...or he was for a few seconds, and they the tide of bodies hit the wall, he clambered to his feet glancing around for some means of defence, spotting a spare baton he grabbed it just in time to hear the cry "FIRE AT WILL!" and then a great carcophoney of noise as officers fired into the crowd...Sam noticed an officer break off towards the vans and headed towards him...

 

As Adam dashed for the police officers in the square, he couldn't help but notice they were putting their shields up in a wall. He turned his head to the crowd - they were gaining on him. He'd only hit the wall slightly before them.

With no good ideas in his head, he turned to plan B. As he neared the wall, he readied the pool cue. About 2ft away from the wall, he slammed the chalked end into the ground and jumped with all his might. Thing is, snooker cues aren't made to be pole vaults, and it snapped under his weight. As he crashed into the legs of 2 riot officers, a zombie dashed straight into the broken end, lodging it firmly in it's stomach.

Adam got up, turned around, and stabbed between officers with the other end of the pool cue, hearing a satisfying crunch and feeling a little blood splatter at him. Turning to keep running, he spotted the cop that had crashed into him earlier. He was holding a shotgun. Adam wasted no time in running over to him.

 

Ed booted a rioter away from his van, and clubbed another one with the stock of the shotgun. He saw the man from teh pub heading towards him, along with another guy. They looked so different from teh rioters, they stuck out like sore thumbs.

A woman whose face seemed to be rotting grab hold of the van door and started to climb up.
Ed fired the shotgun, and almost immediately, otehr shots echoed it. The area aorund his van was clear for a few moments, and officers and other people climbed into the van.

Ed leapt into the driver's seat, and heard the van doors slam shut. He started teh ignition, and slammed on teh accelerator, swerving round the other police vehicles. He flicked the sirens on, and powerslid round the corner and away from the square.

He didn't see any other vans following him...

 

Sam leapt into the back of the riot van along with the a few officers and civilians, the dorrs slammed shut and he felt the van accelerate and swerve. Everyone in the back of the van slammed to one side almost tipping the vehicle.

He was safe....or atleast he hoped so...he heard mutters from the officers about the "infected" but decided to wait for a more appropriate time to ask what they meant...in the mean time he noticed a guy clutching half a pool cue and bleeding from the arm, Sam stumbled carefully over...

"That looks pretty nasty want me to take a look at it?" The guy nodded and Sam sat down to examine the wound.

It looked like there was a large shard of glass stuck in it, informing the man he should prepare himself he pulled it out, blood began to pour out and Sam quickly unwrapped his scarf and tied it around the mans arm as a makeshift bandage...

 

'First Aid under the back left seat,' Ed called out. Reaching down, he flipped the radio into his hand.

'Dispatch! Dispatch! This is Sgt Tremaine! We have a serious situation here.'
'Ed? Is that you?'
'Rose!' He breathed a sigh of relief. 'There were hundreds of them. They broke the line. T'Captain gave us a fire at will. I'm on my way back with a few guys, but I don't know how many otehr managed to get out. The whole area is infected.'

'Oh God,' he heard her gasp.
'Pass the word further up- we need reinforcements. Get the weapons out back there too. This many infected will spread.'

 

Adam bit down as the stranger pulled a fragment of broken bottle from his arm. The makeshift bandage wasn't great, but it'd do for now. The helper introduced himself as Sam. "Adam... Delighted."

The cramped van fell back into silence. As Adam looked around at the survivors, he couldn't help but notice one of the cops acting funny. Twitching a little, sweating a lot, and not much else. Suddenly he stopped. He slumped forward, and a large bite mark on his neck became overly apparant.

Adam watched in silent horror as he raised his head again, the blank eyes staring straight through him...