The Sanctuary Season 2 Episode 4

[Zombie Gunn]

Sanctuary Results – Season Two – Without A Bang

Episode Four – Tactical Advantage

I.

Three hummers and two tanks rolled west down Whittier Boulevard.  Each hummer contained four armed men.  In the center vehicle, Michael McCabe sat with his Lieutenant, Santos Amelia.

SANTOS: "It's just one man..."

McCabe stared out the window.  Not finding Wallace was a devastating blow to his ego.  He worried what it could mean, though he knew the man couldn't be doing well.  He had inspected the collapsed church tower himself, saw the trail of blood going to the door.  There was a lot of it.

MCCABE: "It's not just a man... you don't know what he's capable of, he... no.  Thankyou, you're right.  I'm going to get hung up on this too long and delay what's necessary."

SANTOS: "So, what's the next move?"

MCCABE: "I want our presence known throughout the city.  I'll need pickets placed every five miles in constant contact with us.  Snipers to take out any rogues."

SANTOS: "How will they know?"

MCCABE: "Yellow armbands.  Have a squad hit a fabric store and get as much yellow cloth as you can find.  In three days, I don't want a single one of our men to be caught without one on.  Then we take the rest of the city.  Eliminate the competition.  Round up all the infected we can find, load them into the backs of trucks for future use."

Even as he gave the orders, his mind drifted backwards to another time.


II.

Indonesia, 2003.  In contract with President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, McCabe and two others led tactical squads to combat the GAM, a separatist Islamic group that had been plaguing the country for seven years since its rebirth.

McCabe looked up from the map showing the Aceh region of Sumatra.  They were to assassinate a high ranking member of the GAM, which consisted of a paltry 3000 rebels.  Across from him was De La Cruz, without a care in the world and Masters who hid his feelings behind a mask of brutality.

MCCABE: "Hasan di Tiro's chief deputy is Zaini Mahmud.  The latest intel says that he's vacationing in Lho-nga with his wife and two daughters."

He laid a photo of a house onto the map.

MCCABE: "He normally keeps two armed guards within his vicinity at all times.  As you know, they recently received a cache of weapons smuggled in from Thailand.  They are well armed and should be considered so.  We have to take him out or we may not get another chance, any suggestions?"

MASTERS: "Rig his vehicle with explosives.  Wait until he leaves the home and blow 'em.  Standard procedure."

MCCABE: "Won't work.  He has no vehicle present.  In four days, a car will arrive to pick him up.  From there, he'll disappear.  Impersonating this driver will be impossible, because it's his cousin Abdullah."

JORGE: "Take out the two guards silently.  Sneak into the house and extinguish anything that breathes."

MCCABE: "My thoughts exactly.  The house itself is built on four acres of land, the nearest neighbors are three miles away.  No need to be silent, except that we don't want to alarm Mahmud until it's too late for him to make a difference.  Taking out the guards quietly will give us a chance to get the drop on him before he can react.  Once he's cornered, the job is done and noise won't be a factor."

MASTERS: "How do we get close enough?  I can see from the photo that there's no tree cover within two hundred feet of the house."

MCCABE: "We do it under cover of darkness.  We go into Lho-nga as tourists.  There's a villa in town that we'll have pre-stocked with all the equipment we'll need.  From there, it's a four mile hike along the coast to Mahmud's home.  Masters, what's that look for?"

MASTERS: "Nothing.  Forget it."

McCabe knew what he was thinking.  This was their fifth independent assignment since they had been discharged thanks to Wallace's report.  Masters was thinking what Wallace would be thinking right now.  He was concerned with what would happen with Mahmud's family once we got in there.  That was none of his concern, though.  Knowing, McCabe smiled thinking about how he had Masters under his thumb.  The old boy wouldn't say a word against him.  Jorge was too dumb to know any better, but Masters... he was smart and he was a coward.


III.

Clarence looked over at Jacob, who sat quietly on the lower bunk bed.  He didn't know where Nina or the baby was.  Presumably, they kept women and children in a separate area.  Understandable concerning the present situation of survivors.  They hadn't spoke yet since waking up.

Captain Kangaroo, as he called himself, had invited them for dinner.  Dinner consisted of rice and beans side by side with three dozen other men.  Everybody spoke pleasantly, and if you had simply listened to the other survivors... there was nothing unusual about the place at all.  It was extremely calming, their nerves lowered dramatically.

A guy named Randall nibbled on a biscuit, talking about how the one thing he'd miss more than anything being bowling nights with his buddies.  He and Jacob weren't quite ready to divulge all their favorite moments and memories of life before shit hit the fan.  Nina and the baby weren't present, though Randall assured them that it was normal.  "Separate but equal."

Dinner had finished and they were brought to a room with a bunk bed.  Clarence looked back at Jacob again, finally speaking.

CLARENCE: "So, what's the plan?"

JACOB: "Plan?  I don't have a plan."

CLARENCE: "We gotta get out of here."

JACOB: "I know that, Clarence.  But what the fuck do you expect me to do?  Waltz on in to Captain Kangaroo's cliché office, slam my hands on his desk and demand he let us go?"

Clarence walked out of the room halfway through Jacob's mockery.  Jacob got up, following him out.

JACOB: "Wait, where are you going?"

Jacob followed him down the hallways, realizing they were headed straight to where he joked.

JACOB: "You do realize I was joking, right?  Clarence?"

Clarence opened the door, seeing Nina with her back turned.  The man calling himself Captain Kangaroo had the baby in his lap, bouncing her on his knee.

CAPTAIN: "Uh, boom-boom-boom, you are such a cutie, aren't you?  Oh, hey look at this.  It's some visitors."

JACOB: "What's going on?"

CAPTAIN: "Nina here brought over the baby, and she is just so adorable.  You must be a very proud father."

JACOB: "Woah, hey.  She's not our kid, we just rescued her."

The man seemed to smile even wider than he already was.

CAPTAIN: "Oh my, well what happened to the parents?"

JACOB: "The mom was one of the flesh eaters.  Had to blow her head off."

He didn't see Nina staring daggers into Jacob.  And wouldn't know why, even if he had.

CAPTAIN: "Oh, such a shame.  This poor little baby here won't know any different though.  Years from now, she won't even be a memory."

JACOB: "Yeah, well... we just came in here to apologize for the other day.  And thank you for dinner.  The weapons, consider them yours."

CAPTAIN: "Oh, but I already do.  Thankyou."

JACOB: "And uh... we were just going to head out now.  Move on, you know."

CAPTAIN: "I understand.  And you have my blessing, you may leave."

He made a shooing motion with his hands.  Jacob smiled, motioning for Clarence and Nina.  Nina stepped forward, reaching for the baby.

CAPTAIN: "Now, wait a minute.  What right do you have to this child?"

Jacob's heart sank into the pit of his stomach.

JACOB: "What?"

The man got a serious look on his face now.

CAPTAIN: "It's dangerous out there.  And I honestly just can't see putting this poor child's life in harms way.  No, I cannot allow her to leave.  You three... you may go, but this little darling is staying put right here."

NINA: "We're not leaving without the baby."

The captain stood up now, extended his right hand with the baby over his left shoulder.

CAPTAIN: "Then welcome to the family."


IV.

The Journal of Jack Cromwell:

"A lot's happened since I've had time to jot down any notes.  Two days ago, Tanner and Art got killed by a couple guys shooting at us from the rooftop.  Rather than investigate further, we set our heels to pavement and got out.  Riggs and Gavin bitching the whole way, the stretcher bobbing this way and that, the sleeper nearly fallen off.  I knew shaking him up was no good, but nothing I could do.  We had to get the fuck out."

"We eventually stopped in Glendale, running into a family that was also headed north.  Come to find out, the guys shooting at us were likely part of McCabe's group.  A military outfit that get this... started before all the shit hit the fan.  Somehow, the guy knew what was going to happen and got his chickens in a row before it happened.  They parted company and we were on our way.  Izzal in front, watching for trouble.  Jin at the rear.  The pack mules, Gavin and Riggs in the center hauling the sleeper.  You'd think with Izzal and Jin so far apart, they'd stop messing with each other.  You'd also think that the sight of rotting flesh or a companion falling would be enough to make them forget their petty fued.  Not these two.  We were walking through Burbank when Jin got an idea and fired a couple shots over all our heads.  It was meant to spook Izzal, but all of us ducked down.  Izzal started firing madly at the apartment buildings, meanwhile Jin was laughing his ass off behind us."

"'Cease Fire!' Sean called out, but Izzal couldn't hear him over the sound of the gun."

"Cindy was closest, so she had the honors of slapping him on the face.  Izzal stopped firing, and looked back at the rest of us, just staring at him.  Jin in the back practically rolling on the floor.  Izzal got up and started yelling all sorts of profanity at Jin, only half of which were English.  Cindy and AJ tried to restrain him, and the sight must have sobered Jin.  He stopped laughing, not really getting it though.  This was the first time Izzal had shown any real anger, up until then it was all practical jokes and laughs, even if untimely ones.  Things were getting to him though."

"Donnovan was the only one on the ball, watching for the obvious threat.  After a moment, he grabbed me by the shirt and pointed down the street.  At least a dozen flesh eaters were on their way."

"'Uh... guys, we have company.' I yelled out.  It was too late to run.  This street had no alleys, and if they did they likely led to dead ends.  Sean took charge, dividing us up.  He put Izzal and Jin closest to each other, directly in the center of the street.  Sent AJ, Gavin and Riggs to the opposites sidewalk as us.  Sean, Donnovan, Cindy and I stayed on this side, readied our weapons.  In the center of the street, Izzal and Jin climbed onto a box truck.  Jin actually lent a hand to help Izzal up.  You know they were scared when they actually put their fued aside to be serious a moment.  They setup on the top of the truck as the horde got nearer.  By now, we could just see a long column of them.  At least four dozen, probably more.  The buildings were emptying out, which is why we were each on the sidewalks.  We each carried pistols and were watching the closest buildings.  If anything deadish got out alive, we were to send them back.  Thus far, only two or three on our side got out.  I wasn't sure about across the way."

"The sound was incredible.  The horde must have just gotten into range, because Izzal began firing.  Jin covered the rear, but only a couple dozen ever emerged from that side.  Picking them off was easy.  Suddenly, my temporary distraction to watch the two clowns bit me in the ass.  Well, not literally.  I'd be dead, otherwise.  But an infected had jumped out a second story window, completely oblivious to the idea of heights.  It actually moaned in hunger and rage even while it fell.  Damn near landed on me, clipping my shoulder.  I dropped the gun.  Stupid.  Luckily, Donnovan was there.  He fired two shots, each one hit the thing in the head.  Now, in the stairwell in front of us an entire family of them stormed out, blood curdling screams of hatred filling the air.  Cindy and Donnovan mostly took care of them.  Sean was as useless as tits on a boar.  I was only a bit less.  I hazarded a glance behind me, seeing the infected horde growing closer.  Nearly a hundred lay in the street, either dead or immobile.  Izzal had ran out of ammo and Jin now was firing in that direction.  They switched off effortlessly, as if they had done this for years.  Izzal reloaded, then went to cover the rear where only another 6 or 8 were emerging.  The infected... they just kept coming.  The fallen horde had formed into a hill of corpses, and the emerging infected were crawling over them.  For all the good it did them.  They just made the hill higher.  Soon, the noise subsided as most had been killed.  A few more were on the other side of the corpse barrier, but were unable to climb it."

"Izzal was shaking, I could see.  We had spent at least half our ammo, that I was sure of.  The two of them needed help climbing down.  Nobody said a word for a long time.  Nobody had to.  Eventually, I did a quick headcount... realized we were missing somebody.  AJ.  Poor kid, he lay on the other side of the street.  The Sleeper had pulled through.  I don't know how, I had completely forgot about him.  I guess the infected must not have noticed him or considered him as much of a threat, just lying there motionless.  The moving flesh was more appealing, you could say."

"We set out with a stern word at Jin, reprimanding him for the joke that cost AJ his life and nearly the rest of ours.  There were now nine of us left.  Jin out in front this time, Cindy and Donnovan close behind him.  Riggs and Gavin hauling the sleeper.  Sean and I behind them, with Izzal watching the rear.  It was survival.  It was what we had to do.  Nearly two hundred infected lay dead or immobilized behind us.  Must have cleared out five blocks of infected from Burbank.  The citizens can thank us later.  For now, we just headed north.  By the time I got down to write this, we were in the canyons north of San Fernando, camped out under the stars.  Still about a thousand miles from our goal."


V.

McCabe peered through nightvision goggles.  Masters was in position on the other side of the house.  De La Cruz was out of sight, but Masters could see him.  Masters signaled him that all was clear.  McCabe and Masters began to move.  Silently, simultaneously, they both edged forward out of the treeline.  The guards were on the porch, one asleep in a chair and the other looking out towards the driveway.  McCabe clapped a hand over the guard's mouth, cut his throat then broke his neck.  He turned around, just as Masters reached the sleeping guard.  He covered that one's mouth, dug a knife into his lung.  The guard kicked a bit, but Masters had it under control.  He twisted the guard's head around practically backwards, snapping his neck and ending his movement.

McCabe breathed into his transmitter in no more than a whisper.

MCCABE: "Sloppy, Masters.  De La Cruz, any sign of activity in the back."

DE LA CRUZ: "Negative.  Still asleep."

MCCABE: "Keep an eye on that window.  We're going in."

McCabe climbed onto the porch, not worrying about creaking boards.  They would be accustomed to the sound of their guards.  They each went to opposite sides of the front door.  McCabe checked the knob, unlocked.  Silently, he swung the door open and stepped in.  Masters was behind him checking the corners.  No sign.  Silently, he crossed the living room to the kitchen.  Nothing.  McCabe turned around, saw the little girl standing in the hallway.  Masters got her first, hitting her in the head with the butt of his gun.

MCCABE: "You're getting soft, Masters."

Again in barely more than a whisper.  That's all that was necessary.  McCabe saw something out of the corner of his eye, turned faster than lightning and raised his gun.  The man dove at him with a machete.  Too late to shoot.  He dodged out of the way, the blade clipping his forearm.

MCCABE: "Fuck!"

Masters covered him, planting a bullet in the man's chest.  He toppled to the ground just as the lights turned on.  McCabe and Masters flipped their night vision onto their heads and whirled in the other direction.  Another girl, about 14 was in the hall.

GIRL: "Ayah?"

She saw her sister crumpled on the floor, blood coming from a cut on her forehead.  Saw her father bleeding on the floor, barely alive.  She took off screaming.

MCCABE: "De La Cruz, you got company."

DE LA CRUZ: "I see her."

The wife came out next, but this time McCabe was ready.  He took out a knife and stuck her in the stomach as she rounded the corner.  She let out a horrible scream, and collapsed onto the floor.  The knife still stuck in her belly.

MASTERS: "McCabe, that's enough."

MCCABE: "Oh, it's never enough."

De La Cruz emerged from the bedroom area with the teenage girl.  Her wrists were bound with a ziptie.

DE LA CRUZ: "Look what I found."

MASTERS: "Let's finish with Mahmud and get out of here."

The girl was rambling incoherently, crying to her mother.  Her mother was crying back to her in much the same manner.

MCCABE: "I see no reason to rush.  Not when the spoils of war are plentiful."

De La Cruz gave an evil smile.  Masters was staring daggers at McCabe.

MASTERS: "This is not why we came here."

He raised his gun to finish off Mahmud.  McCabe put a hand on the barrel, lowering it.

MCCABE: "No, let him watch.  If you don't want to, you can wait outside."

Masters stared at him a moment, then swallowed his words and walked out.  He sat on the porch, hating himself.  Hating McCabe and De La Cruz.  But mostly himself.  They were off the reservation, no longer working for America and its interests.  Instead, they were hired mercenaries.  Men without souls.  The sounds emerging from the house only did more to cement the hatred that he felt.  He got to thinking about Wallace, thinking that maybe he should have gone with him.  More than anything he wished for a normal life, to forget the horrors of what he's seen.  The horrors that he's done.

Nineteen men, he had killed.  Four women.  But never children.  And never did he partake in the evil desires that McCabe did.  It was getting bad in there.  He got up and walked down the driveway a bit, trying not to hear what was happening.  Trying not to think of the faces of all those he had killed.  This was it.  The last time he'd go along with McCabe and De La Cruz.  Honor was the only thing keeping him from leaving right now, abandoning the mission and becoming a farmer like Wallace.  And the money.  God damn if it wasn't good money.


VI.

Johnston looked at the photograph.

JOHNSTON: "Is that... a pyramid?"

KELLY: "In a way.  Look closer, those aren't bricks."

Johnston had a hard time seeing, since the photograph was taken from such a great distance.  Finally, he saw the shapes jutting out.  It wasn't a perfect pyramid, but it amounted to the same.  It was corpses, all piled on top of each other.  Some care had gone into it though, making it into that shape.

JOHNSTON: "The fuck?"

KELLY: "There's a museum at Golden Gate Park.  Much as I can tell, they're using this pyramid both to deter living guests and to attract the nonliving ones.  The scout reported that he couldn't get anywhere near the park itself, which is why this photo was taken from so far away.  But he think they're inside the museum.  They've also got pickets setup in various buildings surrounding the park."

JOHNSTON: "Pickets?"

KELLY: "Look outs.  Watches.  They're scattered throughout the entire area.  They'll report anything out of the ordinary before we even get close."

JOHNSTON: "So, we take out the pickets first."

KELLY: "I'm telling you this because I respect what you've been through and your willingness to help.  I'm not telling you for your opinion or strategy.  You're a helicopter pilot.  Leave the thinking to those trained for it."

JOHSNTON: "Jesus Christ, you guys are a laugh.  Just how many campaigns have you fought with zombies trying to eat you?"

Kelly didn't respond, but simply walked away.  The next morning, they readied themselves for battle.  The scouts hadn't been able to report back any definitive numbers on how many militants were in that area.  He had identified at least five pickets, but there was no hope in discovering them all.  From the map, Kelly and Rusch had identified three other likely points.

KELLY: "We haven't seen any surface to air missiles in their possession.  So, until we know differently we must assume that we have a tactical advantage with the air.  We have three pilots among us.  We gather all our supplies and prepare for war, but we go here.  Buena Vista Park.  From there, we send one helicopter to fly over Golden Gate.  Circle there for a while, make sure my suspicions are correct and that they can't shoot us down.  Then return.  Anything out of the ordinary happens or if they fire RPGs, you get the hell out of there."

JOHNSTON: "I noticed you're looking at me.  That mean I get the lucky job?"

KELLY: "You're our least experienced pilot.  Sorry to say, but if you don't make it back at least we have our combat pilots to go in there and do some damage."

JOHNSTON: "That's fucked..."

KELLY: "As I said before, I highly doubt they have RPGs.  They're not the kind of weapon that would be a lot of help in this sort of situation.  They'll just be unlucky enough to wish they had them."

Half an hour later, they all took to the air.  Johnston's helicopter contained Quinonez and two other soldiers he had not been introduced to.  Kelly's chopper led the way to the park.  While the other two landed, Johnston flew out to the park.

The park itself is a rectangle, two and a half miles east to west and 3000 feet north to south.  The far west end has a small golf course, while the east end contains the museums.  The pyramid of corpses is just to the south of the museums.  Johnston circled the area a few times, peering down at everything.

QUINONEZ: "You're going to have to go lower.  I can't see anything.  Besides, if they have RPGs they won't be able to use them from this distance."

JOHNSTON: "You say that like I want them to be used."

QUINONEZ: "We have to test their strength, that's why we're here."

Johnston grudgingly lowered the helicopter on his next pass.  The smell of the rotting corpses began to drift in through the open window, making him nauseous.

JOHNSTON: "I don't  see anybody."

QUINONEZ: "Weird.  Wait, there."

Quinonez pointed and now Johnston saw.  Four men stood near a water fountain, watching them.  Suddenly, gunfire rattled against the helicopter.

JOHSNTON: "FUCK!"

QUINONEZ: "No RPGs, I guess."

JOHNSTON: "A bullet can still puncture something.  I'm pulling up."

QUINONEZ: "No, wait.  Men, return fire."

The two soldiers in the back began firing out the side with mounted machine guns.  They took out a couple of the men from the fountain.  A few more began firing from the windows of the museum and they began firing that way.  Suddenly, the helicopter began to shake and an alarm started blaring.

JOHNSTON: "Fuck.  They hit something.  I'm getting out of here."

Johnston finished turning the helicopter around, but then more machine gun fire came.

QUINONEZ: "Pull up!"

JOHNSTON: "I'm trying.  The controls won't respond."

The ground began to come closer.  He was still in the slow turn, but losing altitude.  Johnston tried pressing the blinking alarm button, but it didn't help.  They were now a thousand feet from the ground.

JOHNSTON: "We're going down, damn it.  I'll see if I can't get us as far from the park as possible though."

QUINONEZ: "The streets are too crowded there to land.  Go for the west end of the park.  Try to land at the golf course."

JOHNSTON: "Got news for you, sunshine.  We're not going to land at all.  Everybody, you better fasten yourselves in and hold on."

More machine gun fire from the museum, a bullet pierced the cockpit glass.  Four hundred feet from the ground.  The golf course looked like a distant dream.  The small lake looked like the more likely place to crash.

QUINONEZ: "We're going to hit the water."

JOHNSTON: "I know.  It can't be that deep though, and it'll cushion our fall.  Everybody hang on."

CRASH!

Johnston opened his eyes, water pooling in all around him.  He unstrapped his belt, saw Quinonez was already swimming away.  Johnston unstrapped himself, thought quickly and grabbed the radio.  He held it up, keeping it out of the water as he waded away from the helicopter.  The other two soldiers were now swimming away as well.  They got to the shore, soaked to the bone but nobody hurt.  Yet.  Machine gun fire ripped through the trees ahead of them.  Johnston ducked down while Quinonez and the other two soldiers returned fire.  One of the two got hit, fell over and landed in the water.  He didn't move again.

QUINONEZ: "Johnston, call for help!"

JJ flipped on the radio, heard Kelly's voice bellowing and demanding to know what's happening.  He finished and JJ sent the message.

JOHNSTON: "We were hit by machine gun fire.  The helicopter went down.  One man down."

As he said this, the other soldier was now hit.  Quinonez cursed.

JOHNSTON: "Scratch that, two men down.  Just me and Quinonez left.  No RPG fire that we've seen.  But we need help, fast!  We won't hold out long."

Johnston dropped the radio and picked up one of the soldiers guns.  He sent a spray of bullets into the trees, not really knowing what to aim for and not wanting to poke his head out enough to get a line of sight.  More gunfire came from behind them now, the other side of the pond.  The helicopter behind them gave them a little cover, but not much.  They were surrounded.  But in the distance, they could hear the sounds of helicopter rotors.  Would they get there in time?


VII.

Richie and Eddie York were travelling through San Francisco, when they saw it.  A pileup of cars, at least forty of them.  Completely blocked the highway.  Thirty miles ago, they had swapped out the blood soaked truck for a Jeep Cherokee, but if they were going to keep their motorized transportation, they wouldn't be able to use the freeway for it.  They backtracked down the highway, finding an exiting onto Central Freeway, then using the sidestreets to get to Highway 1.

Unfortunately for them, Highway 1 runs through Golden Gate Park and Golden Gate Park is controlled by a man named Ian Staziak.

Richie looked out the front window at the squad of soldiers in front of them.  Richie rolled down the window.

RICHIE: "It's about time.  You know, you're the first sign of military we've seen since the Sierra.  What the fuck's going on here?"

The men looked at each other a moment, then the one closest began to speak.

SOLDIER: "Not sure, but the world sure has gone to hell.  If you'll proceed this way to the park we'll get you checked in."

RICHIE: "Checked in?"

SOLDIER: "Anyone passing through San Francisco has to check in, state their business and turn over all weapons."

Richie looked over to Eddie, who was silent.  For once.

RICHIE: "Do you really think that's wise?  With these things everywhere, I mean... it's only for our personal protection."

SOLDIER: "I don't make the rules, I just enforce them.  You can leave your weapons here.  But drive down this road to the museum, that's where they're at."

EDDIE: "We're not turning over our guns.  It's ridiculous.  Come on, Richie... let's get out of here."

The soldier then aimed his gun right at Richie.

SOLDIER: "Tried playing nice.  Do as I say or I will kill you."

RICHIE: "Just give him the fucking gun, Eddie."

Eddie sighed, handed over his weapon to the soldier on his side of the vehicle.  Richie likewise gave his gun to the man closest to him.  The soldier lowered his weapon and waved them through.  As they drove, Richie and Eddie went back to arguing.

RICHIE: "What was that shit about?  These are the soldiers.  It's they're job to kill these things, not ours."

EDDIE: "It's just some bureaucratic bullshit, Richie.  We haven't seen a single soldier until we got here.  What makes you think they're actually trying to kill these things."

RICHIE: "If you'd open your fucking EYES and LOOK!"

Ahead of them, a pyramid of corpses lay on the lawn leading up to the museum.

EDDIE: "Holy..."

They drove in silence for the next minute as they pulled up to the museum.  Once there, they were greeted by the man himself, Ian Staziak.

STAZIAK: "How can I help you gentlemen?"

RICHIE: "They said we had to check in."

Staziak's smile grew large.

STAZIAK: "Did they?  My, they are clever aren't they?  I suppose they had you hand over your guns as well?"

Richie and Eddie were now out of the vehicle.  Eddie looked over at Richie, giving him an eye that seemed to say 'I told you so.'

Before anything else could be said, a helicopter began circling above.  Staziak seemed particularly interested as did the armed man with him.  After a moment, Staziak took out a radio.

STAZIAK: "I want that helicopter taken down, immediately."

Moments later gunfire emerged from the museum.  The man next to Staziak began firing as well.  Richie and Eddie ducked down by the side of the Jeep.  After another moment, the helicopter began returning fire.  The soldier next to Staziak was hit.  Staziak himself ducked down near Richie and Eddie.

RICHIE: "What the hell's going on?"

STAZIAK: "Just a few of my rivals, it appears."

RICHIE: "Rivals?"

STAZIAK: "Oh, come off it.  You don't actually still think we're part of the U.S. Government, do you?  You two must be the biggest idiots this side of the Mississippi."

After a few minutes, the helicopter looked to be hit badly.  It began swaying back and forth and slowly declining.  Staziak got on the radio.

STAZIAK: "That's it.  It's headed for the west end of the park.  Cut them off on both sides.  I want as many taken alive as possible.  Only kill those necessary."

He turned to the York brothers.

STAZIAK: "If you'll excuse me, I have some work to be done."

He yelled out to a couple of soldiers that were passing, motioned them towards the York brothers.  Without a word, they understood and rounded on them.  Before Richie and Eddie knew what was happening, their arms were being tied and they were being hauled off into the Museum.

ELIMINATED – Richie & Eddie York - Detained


VIII.

Fnord cursed at his luck.  He was an asshole, that much was true.  But he didn't deserve this.  He kicked a rock about twenty feet ahead.  Looking around, he figured he must be near the Illinois and Iowa border.  He had helped these people, had gone against his better judgement and actually helped them.

FNORD: "Just my luck, the one time I actually do something nice for somebody it comes to bite me in the ass.  Just as well... I should have known not to go helping people."

He spoke to himself as he wandered west down 88, hoping maybe he could hitch a ride.  The problem was that the family was the first life he had seen since leaving Chicago.  He didn't know how to hotwire a car and thus far, nobody was kind enough to leave their keys behind.

FNORD: "I need a nice little hot rod.  Maybe an old Mustang or a Viper.  Yeah, why don't I ever come across something sweet like that?  It's the end of the world and everything is mine."

He had drove with them west for a couple hours learning all about them.  He had shared his philosophy on life, on how you can only look out for yourself and expressed how different he had been when saving them.  He wasn't a hero, that much he could be sure of.  After a while he stopped at a gas station to load up on supplies.  While he was inside, they took off with his car!

FNORD: "I mean, the nerve of them.  I saved THEM!  Against my better judgement, mind you.  I leave the keys in the car as a sign of faith.  And they took it.  Just left me there to die.  Who would do something like that?"

He picked up the rock he had been kicking and threw it as far away as he could.  Just his luck, it managed to hit something.  The thing it hit had once been called Susan, once been a grandmother of seven children.  Had once spent her free hours knitting and eating rhubarb.  More recently, her pastimes include eating human flesh and moaning.  The rock hit her in the shoulder, getting her attention.  She turned around, saw Fnord and let out an old lady zombie scream.

FNORD: "Oh fuck."

All his weapons had been in the car.  All his drugs too, which was the biggest setback at the time.  Now, he wished more for the weapons.  He looked around, looking for anything he could find that would help him.  Nothing.  Not even another rock.  Instead, he simply took off in a run.

The old lady gave chase, tripping on her own ankle length nightgown, ripping it off.  Now Fnord was being chased by a naked old lady zombie, running for his life.  The highway looked endless ahead of him, a completely flat terrain without a single object that he could use.  The old lady closed in fast, running on bruised and bleeding bare feet.  Her breasts flopped menacingly as she closed in.  He could hear her coming closer.  He could feel the pain in his legs growing.  His chest was getting tight, not liking the exercise.

Was this it?  Is this how he'd die?  Eaten to death by a nude granny?  Hardly the way that such a superior asshole such as himself should go.  It was with these thoughts that he felt her hands grasp at the back of his shirt.  Ahead of him, he saw three more infected coming his way.

ELIMINATED – Fnord – Surrounded

[Black Death]

I always love the past history of Mccabe ... thought it was nice touch