Class of 2013 - 30

Chapter Thirty

“James!”

Only a single word of Lea’s message made it through before a piece of buckshot destroyed the hand held radio. Throwing the shattered device away, James fired off his last two shots as he ran around a corner, having lead the Viking nearer to the front of the store, where the food aisles were. Just around the corner he waited, knowing that the blond would be close behind. As soon as he came around the corner, the muzzle of the shotgun was jammed into his abdomen. The pursuing young man dropped the sawed-off shotgun, and a flick of James’ eyes to the side let him see that it hadn’t yet been reloaded – meaning it was totally useless to him. Thus, as a follow up to his initial strike James went for a butt-stroke across his opponent’s jaw. Unfortunately for him, the blond grabbed the butt of the shotgun to stop it and kicked him hard in the thigh – giving him a wicked Charlie-horse.

The next move for the Viking was to grab the cut-down sledgehammer that hung at his hip, and with an upward stroke he knocked the shotgun out of James’ hands. Staggering back thanks to his knotted thigh, James pulled his Colt .45 to bring it up, but before he could get on target, a quick kick sent the pistol to the ground with a clatter a few feet down one of the food aisles. James went for it, pushing past the soreness in his leg, but the Viking was faster, and grabbed it before he could get to it. The Viking was on target quickly, and James nearly skidded to a halt at seeing down the barrel of his own gun, but when the Viking went to pull the trigger… nothing happened. It wouldn’t even pull!

Realizing what saved him, James grinned and turned on his heel, running back out of the aisle as the Viking brought the gun back only to roll his eyes in frustration and flick the safety off. Cocking the hammer back, he pulled the trigger – not just once, but four times as he chased James out of the aisle. Making sure to take the wide way around the corner, he fired another three shots, the rounds whizzing past James’ head before the breech was locked open to signify that the gun was empty. Tossing it away, he went down the next aisle, following James, only to see him near the top of a rack of foodstuffs. By the time that the Viking reached it, he’d rolled onto the top of it, out of reach and scrambled a couple feet away from where he’d climbed up. The blonde followed close behind, climbing the rack quickly and reaching the top in seconds…

…only to find the tip of James’ slicer at his throat.

James looked down at him with a bit of a smirk, but the blond biker knew exactly what the weapon was – and knew that it wasn’t exactly made for stabbing, much less cutting like a sword or machete might. It was a bludgeon with an edge, that was about it, and with that in mind his leather jacket covered arm smacked it away from his throat before he hefted himself up and rolled – springing up into a standing position. Now that they were on the same level, James realized what they were standing on: an aisle-long open air refrigeration unit. That fact didn’t stay with him very long though, his focus returning to the opponent before him… and the cut down sledgehammer in his hand. It would be difficult to get off him, as there had been a hole cut through the shaft, and a leather band tied through it. Said band was around the blonde’s wrist, ensuring that the hammer wouldn’t be lost if it was knocked from his hand.

Both young men stared each other down for a moment, and then charged one another. The hammer was swung from the side and upward, aimed at James’ ribs, but using some of the limited saber fighting I’d taught him he stepped to the side, spinning and parrying the incoming blow. Now behind the Viking, and with the slicer in a ready position, he aimed his own strike at his opponent’s kidneys, but was blocked as the blonde span in the opposite direction – the hammer positioned perfectly to intercept the strike. Being within range for a blow, but having no time to build momentum with a swing, the Viking pushed the slicer to the side a bit and then drove the hammer forward – slamming the head of the sledgehammer into James’ abdomen; much like James had done to him earlier with the muzzle of the shotgun.

Even so, through the sudden pain James realized that his opportunity had come. The slicer was a great weapon against zombies, but in a fight against someone wearing leather and wielding what might as well have been Mjölnir… not so much. Thus, it was time to level the playing field completely. Letting the slicer drop from his hand, James grabbed the head of the hammer and turned, pulling hard to free the handle from the blonde’s grip. At the same time, the continuous turning helped slip the leather band off of his opponent’s wrist. As soon as the hammer was free, he dove forward and rolled; spinning and springing onto his feet. Looking at the hammer in his hands, he quickly tossed it away; down into the aisle near his own slicer before facing off with his blonde opponent once more.

Getting into a boxing stance, he watched as the blonde grinned and moved fluidly into the Kokutsu Dachi stance of Shotokan Karate… which nearly made James look like a deer in the headlights for a moment. He knew exactly what this guy was using. He recognized it; had seen it used before. Normally he didn’t give a lot of credit to Karate because so many people thought they knew how to use it, and really didn’t know a damn thing about it. That wasn’t the case right now, however. No, this guy knew exactly what he was doing, and from the way he moved… James didn’t doubt that he was at least a Shodan – a basic black-belt. Now, James had seen this style before, even fought a few practitioners, and while he was incredibly good at hand to hand…

…he’d never fought a fucking black-belt before.

Sparring with Sweet didn’t count.

However, sparring with Sweet had gotten him improved with the martial arts he did know and use often. One of which he now chose as a counter to his opponent; switching into an appropriate stance. What did he choose? Wing Chun Kung Fu. He was certainly no Yip Man, but he was proficient in Wing Chun and western Boxing, so it seemed the most natural counter. There was something that seemed fundamentally odd about this though: Shotokan Karate put an emphasis on punches and striking with the hands. The back stance associated with the style usually wasn’t used for the primary offensive capabilities that were taught. Even so, they quickly closed the gap that was between them. Both martial arts – and in fact most eastern martial arts – were meant for self defense; they weren’t really meant to be used offensively. It was like using a shield as a primary weapon: it could work, but that’s not the purpose it was intended for.

James was thankful that his opponent was the first one to take to attacking; Wing Chun’s strong suit was taking the defensive first and parrying attacks while waiting for an opening. The flurry of punches that came moved at incredible speed; and may not have hurt bad enough to take him out with a single strike… but their combined power likely would have quickly racked up damage. Yet, it was apparent that the more attacks that he parried, the sloppier the punches were getting. Finally one was thrown that came in wide enough to give him an opening for a straight punch with his left. It wasn’t his strongest arm, but one good hit was better than nothing at all. The incoming punch was parried with little effort, and then his own arm sprang forward like an uncoiling spring… only for him to discover too late that he’d just been set up.

As his arm extended, the attack he had parried changed. The parry hadn’t taken much effort, and thus his opponent’s arm wasn’t moved very far. With it still positioned so close, the blonde turned, and as he did, he grabbed James’ shoulder and pulled him forward – just enough to get him off balance. James quickly tried to regain his footing, but soon found a knee being introduced to the same thigh that had been kicked earlier. The previous wound was agitated easily by the reminder of its existence, and the nearly immediate follow-up of a kick to the same leg’s shin served to keep his balance in limbo. A shove from essentially behind him made him stumble forward, before finally losing his footing and slamming down onto the top of the refrigeration unit. Despite the pain in his leg, he was on his feet quickly, though the pain in the leg from the repeated power strikes was obvious.

Looking at the Viking now, James was left with a conundrum. Shotokan Karate emphasized the upper body – but not a single punch had been landed. In fact, instead of landing a punch, the blonde biker had used a punch as a diversion. Hell, more than a diversion – he’d predicated what would be done in retaliation. This guy had known beforehand that if a sloppy enough punch was thrown that he would parry and go for a strike, and had used that to setup a series of strikes that weakened him. Watching carefully, he saw the blonde go into a very basic ready stance used in just about every style of Karate… and it dawned on him. This guy wasn’t a practitioner of Shotokan Karate… at least not exclusively.

No… rather, he’d used that stance to setup the entire thought process of the fight. How better to make sure you could use your legs unhindered than to make your opponent think that you were using a style that was known for punching! The entire thing had been a setup from the start! Setting his jaw, James closed his eyes; realizing something else. He’d let someone else set the tone of the fight. Instead of acting, he’d been reacting. He’d let himself be tricked into fighting in a particular way, rather than the way he had intended at the beginning, and it had cost him. This guy knew his stuff, knew how to fake out opponents, and that made him dangerous. It also meant that he needed to remember to follow what his great hero Bruce Lee told his students: to not use any one particular style. It was always better to have all options on the table, for it made you a more effective combatant.

With Bruce Lee in mind, he also had an idea.

Moving once more into the ready stance of Wing Chun, he waited for a moment before the two of them rushed one another once more. The fight went just as it had gone the last time – a flurry of punches from his blonde adversary, and a shield of parries to counter. In came that sloppy punch just like the last time, and once more James parried and went for a strike. This time, however, when that knee was driven toward his thigh, he stepped further forward and span to the right – using his left leg to kick his opponent in his raised shin. A rapid follow up came in the form of his leg coiling and driving his heel into the black-belt’s hip; sending him down hard onto the top of the refrigeration unit. As the Viking moved to stand, James wasted no time, and charged him; tackling him back down onto the top of the unit. However, their weights combined made the unit’s roof give way under them, and a whole section of it collapsed; dropping shaped sheet metal, glass, wire, and destroyed food containers of various kinds onto the aisle floor.

As the section of the refrigeration unit’s roof slammed into the goods below it and angled itself, the two combatants rolled off of it and quickly got to their feet. Neither wasted time, but after being tackled and having no time between that and the collapse of the refrigeration unit’s roof the Viking was the slower of the two. Due to the repeated attacks from earlier, James knew that his footwork was potentially in trouble – so he went with a tactic more commonly associated with fights in a hockey game: he grabbed the shoulder of the biker’s jacket and started throwing punches at anything he could hit. Shots were aimed at his abdomen, ribs, arm, and head, though only the body shots were given the chance to connect… as the blonde had quickly begun using the same tactic. Blows were traded back and forth, and as each of them tried to move they ended up dancing about in a circle as they took each opportunity they might have.

At the same time as their dance and wild punches, they slammed each other into the rack of canned goods that made up the other side of the aisle; both of them bouncing off of it in turn. It wasn’t until they suddenly heard a sickening, raspy screech from off to their immediate side that they stopped… only to notice the zombies that were crowding in around them from both sides of the aisle. Without hesitation they released each other, and the blows that were previously being traded between the opponents were soon unleashed upon the horde that was closing in on them. Zombies were dropped left and right, and the two young men that had been such quick enemies found themselves making even quicker allies. Back to back they stood, fists up and ready to fight.

“So… are we friends now?” James asked over his shoulder, panting a bit.

The Viking laughed a bit, “Yeah, sure…” He paused, “…If we survive.”

“Then I vote we do that…”

“I concur.”

James was quiet for a moment, then turned and asked. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Thor.” The blonde biker replied as he turned and offered his hand.

“James.” Came the reply as they shook hands. “Now uh… how do we get out of this?”

“Probably be a good idea to get our weapons.” Thor replied, glancing past the horde that blocked the way deeper into the store. “Which are over there…”

A second later a can of soup flew past him and slammed into the head of a zombie, downing it. Blinking, Thor looked at James.

“What?” James shrugged. “It was chicken noodle. Seemed appropriate.”

“We’re gonna get along just fine…” Thor grinned, chuckling a bit, then noticed that the zombie that had been taken out by the can of soup was also the one that had been closest to his hammer. Glancing from it to James, he had a questioning look.

“I played baseball a couple years.”

James grinned, and then immediately Thor ran for his hammer. Snatching it up, he slipped his hand through the leather band, and with a couple of quick attacks enough zombies were felled to reach the slicer, which he kicked to James. As soon as the slicer was in his hands, the two warriors began dropping zombies left and right, heading deeper into the store – back in the direction that they had come. A couple of seconds into their trip they began hearing gunfire, and headed in that direction; James grabbing the Colt .45 that had been tossed down earlier and reloading it as they went.

“We’re heading toward friends of yours, right?” Thor asked as they made their way through the zombies that were starting to flood into the store.

“Yeah. We came to search this place.” James replied, “Where the hell did all these zombies come from? This place was empty up until now! We made a lot of noise, but not that much!”

“I dunno… me and my sister led these zombies away from here, into the residential area nearby. I know they didn’t follow us back; we came back into the store through the car repair bay.” Thor said as they went, and soon enough they reached the assembled group; Chien, Lea, Artemis, and I. Thankfully nobody mistook them for zombies with how many were around us. As soon as they reached the group, James joined in with the rest of us, taking careful shots with the Colt, while Artemis ran up and hugged Thor tight.

“Damn it, Thor…” She said as she squeezed him, “…don’t shoot at people!”

“Sorry sis…” He replied, making a gasping noise, “…I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Good.” She said firmly as she leaned back and looked him in the eyes.

“Shouldn’t we be helping kill the zombies?” Her brother asked, and she grinned sheepishly before stepping back, spinning, and firing an arrow into the head of one.

“Like that, big brother?” Artemis said cheekily.

“Good enough.” Thor smirked before bashing a zombie’s head in with a swing of his hammer. Artemis just rolled her eyes.

“What made them come back?” She asked the tall blonde Viking.

“No idea. Somebody must have lead them in.”

“Who?”

“Someone not with us, probably.” James said between shots.

“Who isn’t with us?” Chien asked as he reloaded.

The answer came from Lea and I at the same time.

“Johnny.” We replied together, and our words were followed by the loud crash of the pharmacy’s metal window visor closing.

We were all put at pause, but glancing at James I saw him nearly drop the Colt. He was in shock, but only for a moment. His shock was quickly replaced with blood boiling rage, and he bolted away from the rest of us; his injured leg ignored as that wrath filled him with new energy.

He’d always been the fastest of us, and with only the Colt and the slicer to carry he moved away at incredible speed. Lea and Chien called for him to come back, but to no avail. Thor was the first of us to go charging after him, then Artemis as she followed her brother, Lea followed her, and Chien and I brought up the rear as we ran through the infestation. As we moved, I noticed Artemis put the bow on her back, and at first thought that she meant to make her way through without a weapon. Of course, the next thing I knew she had drawn a side sword (more often called a “cut & thrust” – which basically amounted to it being the bastard child of a rapier and a longsword) from beneath her cloak and was taking out anything that came near her. My mind caught something though; noted that something was off. The blade of the sword wasn’t cutting through them at all: it was only acting like a melee weapon, despite the edge of the blade being what hit their skulls.

Upon closer inspection of the weapon, I noted that the tip had been hammered over and bent so that it couldn’t be used to actually thrust. It was a practice sword; not meant for really doing damage – which also meant that it probably wasn’t meant to be used as she was using it. Despite that, the sword held up… though the blade did wobble a bit whenever she struck down one of the zombies. It wasn’t long before we caught up to James, who by that time was pounding and bashing against the metal roll door that served to blockade the pharmacy’s service windows. Again and again the slicer was pounded against the roll door, but to no avail. As well, it seemed that all of us but James had noticed that the zombies had changed course and were coming for us here. Thor tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t hear it.

“You son of a bitch! Fucking traitor! Get out here and face me you fucking coward!” James screamed at the metal defense, but there was no answer.

“Come on man, we gotta go! We’ll be lunch if we stay here any longer!” Thor said, pulling James away from the roll door. “Pull yourself together, gods dammit!”

Only when James turned to face us all could we see that it was not only rage that had come to him, but sorrow. Tears filled his eyes, though he quickly looked away from us all and pushed past, shrugging off and even jerking away from the empathetic hand that Lea tried to rest on his shoulder. The group quickly made to follow him, Chien taking the lead and mentioning something about going out through a rear exit near electronics. Meanwhile, I brought up the rear, though right before I moved to follow, I paused. Through the metal door I could hear a soft sound; muttered words, the word 'sorry' being repeated time and again, and sobbing. I turned, wanting to stay to try and talk our friend on the other side, but seeing the gathering horde I had no real choice but to follow the group as we left.

Something was wrong with this. Johnny wouldn’t do this sort of thing without some sort of coercion. He was our friend. We knew him, trusted him… why would he betray us? Why lead a horde of zombies into the store instead of just shooting us? It didn’t make any sense. In any event, there was no way to figure things out right now. Right now we had to escape before we ended up as zombie bait. Rushing through the store, we headed toward the back, but when we reached electronics there was already a full fledged horde in our way. We headed for the automotive repair center, but the situation was exactly the same there. It was becoming blatantly apparent that the zombies were pressing in from all sides, and with few options left, we fell back to the toy aisles – all the way in the furthest corner of the store.

We were quiet, and yet, for some reason they continued to come toward us. Chien and I were in the midst of trying to come up with a plan – ideally to push toward the automotive repair bay, as it wouldn’t trigger the activation of an alarm. The other exit was meant for emergencies, and thus would sound an alarm… and potentially bring even more zombies to the store. We would likely come back at some point for supplies, so we didn’t want every zombie in the city to form up there. We also knew that we had to do this quickly. We were almost out of ammunition. After a quick ammo check, we discovered just how close to being out we were, and the zombies were closing in quickly. Lea and Artemis were designated as sharpshooters. James and Thor were to be their guards, and Chien and I would provide general cover as we moved.

The plan went off well at first, save for the fact that our sharpshooters were down to about ten arrows and fifteen rounds after having run through the store back and forth. Their ammunition dwindled quickly, as did the ammo that Chien and I had left. Without our main supply in the suburban there was no way for us to have enough ammunition to push through. Soon enough we were down to just pistols, and we didn’t have much ammunition for those. We’d nearly reached the door when we found that we were surrounded – and our objective changed from reaching an exit to simply surviving. Too close for what was left of our ammunition to take care of, we switched to our melee weapons and began to fight with those. One after another the zombies went down… but with no end in sight.

It stayed like this for a few minutes. We were tiring quickly from the fighting, and even Thor and James, our two most experienced hand to hand fighters were slowing – thanks mostly to their combat with each other earlier. The thought that we were done for crossed my mind, and it seemed that death was closing in on us… until we heard five shotgun blasts ring out. That was followed by a voice shouting at the top of its lungs.

“Hey! Over here!” It was Johnny, though somehow we could tell that he wasn’t talking to us. He was moving through the gathering horde, clubbing zombies with the shotgun. “Come on you motherfuckers, fresh meat, right here! Come and get it!” Soon enough we could see him, in a self-made clearing in the zombies – clubbing any that got within striking distance… and at the same time, he saw us. “Everyone! Stop making noise! I’ll draw them away, and when I do, you guys get the hell out of here!”

Kicking a zombie away, and clubbing another, he quickly pulled the thin chains that held his locket and his father’s dog tags around his neck up over his head. “Lea! Get this to Christine! She’ll know what to do!” He shouted, and threw the chains toward us; Lea reaching up and catching them – surprised to see that one of the chains also had a small key on it. “And James… you’re a good friend… please believe me when I say I’m sorry…” He paused for a moment in his movements, “I was afraid… but now I know that I can’t be afraid anymore… because that’s what lets good people get hurt…”

Another flurry of swings with the shotgun-turned-club and more zombies dropped, meanwhile our own movements had grown quiet… the zombies beginning to focus on the Tennessean.

“I hope you can forgive me… all of you…” A tiny, forced smile came to his lips, “Even the ones that don’t know me yet… I really hope I haven’t made that bad of a first impression…” He shrugged a little, starting to back away, drawing the zombies ever closer to him. “Looks like this is it, guys…” He swallowed thickly, then looked toward James again. “Auctoritas non veritas facit legem. Et ipsa scientia potestas est.”

A nod was given, and then in an instant he shoved into the horde that was forming around him, pushing zombies away and clubbing others as he headed toward the forward portion of the store. The zombies followed, ravenous in their hunger for flesh, and though we dared not yet speak, we looked to James – curious about what it was Johnny had said to him. Yet, when we saw his face, he looked as confused as we were.

==X==X==X==

Of all the ways that he could have screwed up, of all the horrible things that he could have done and had done in his life, this was the worst of all. This was a true betrayal, and he knew it – but he hoped that somehow, some way, he could make things right. The zombies near him had given way easily as he shoved them, using the shotgun like a buffer and plowing through them. Once he was through the immediate horde, he continued shouting, calling for the zombies to follow him, and making sure that he never got too far away from them. He wanted to keep their attention, and if possible, lead them back outside. Thus he began heading for the gardening section of the store – and the exit there.

When he reached the gardening section though, he found that zombies were pouring in from there as well – far too many of them to take on with the shotgun alone. Thus he brought out his secondary weapon: a .357 Magnum revolver, and fired off a couple shots as he began clubbing his way through some of them. He made it all the way to the door before seeing just how packed the horde was around the door, and backing away. He moved back quickly, looking around, and finding himself trapped…

“…like a rat…” He said softly as he looked around, watching as the zombies closed in on him. “Wow… I’m actually gonna die…” He chuckled once, and began walking backward toward the greenhouse, and the racks of plants, whistling as he made his way through. “Oh I wish I was in the land of cotton…” He sang softly, raising the revolver and firing a round; dropping the shotgun as the zombie hit the ground. “…old times there are not forgotten…” Another shot, and another dead zombie, “…look away, look away…” A third shot, and a third dead zombie. It was then that he felt his back hit the metal of a rack of plants, and he sighed.

Looking at the revolver, he swung the cylinder out to view the last round and chuckled dryly as the horde closed in. “One round… well, isn’t that lucky?” Slapping the cylinder back in, he leaned back on the rack and rested the muzzle of the gun against his temple, closing his eyes. Hammer cocked back, he heard those raspy screeches closing in, and paused. His eyes shot open, and immediately the gun muzzle was pressed against the bridge of the closest zombie’s nose.

“Work for it…” He growled the words out, and pulled the trigger.

==X==X==X==

We had counted five shots, and then a long pause, waiting as the last zombies moved away from where we stood. Then we heard it. A sixth shot, and our moods became that much more bleak – the only thing that made it worse was the scream that followed. He hadn’t used the sixth shot for himself, and we all knew what that meant. Heads hung, and we all turned our heads away, as if somehow that would help us block out the mental image. It didn’t. However, Chien and I slowly got everyone moving toward the door that went to the repair bay. The only one that lingered was James, as if he was lost in thought. With a sigh, I stepped near him, tugging on his shirt a bit. Slowly he focused, and I nodded toward the door. After a moment, he nodded, and began following me.

It wasn’t until he was about to step through the door behind me that he stopped and turned – having heard the tell-tale noise that these horrid creatures made. There was only one of them, but it was moving toward the door after us. James blinked, looking at it studiously, and then slowly drew his Colt. He made no sound, but the zombie continued toward him, and James’ eyes focused on the eyes of the zombie. As they did, he fired, and then quickly moved through the door and up with the rest of us.

Our journey… home… would take much longer than we had anticipated now. With no vehicle, we would have to go on foot. Making our way toward the freeway first, we decided we would go around the center of town to avoid the zombies by crossing the freeway and then heading toward P.M.A. As we walked, Lea took out a small flashlight that she tended to carry, and popped open the locket that mirrored her own. Gazing sadly upon the small photographs therein, she held back her tears.

She knew that our friend wouldn’t want us to cry.