moving.”
Oddball sighs, “Shut up Oddball, keep moving Oddball, knock
it off Odd . . . ”
Something moves in the darkness ahead.
Oddball screams, “Here they come!” and opens fire.
The rest of the men take up positions, and the tunnel is
instantly a blinding din of flashing gunfire.
Monte signals them to stop, “Cease fire!”
“Zombies!” Oddball screams and continues firing.
“Cease fire!”
Monte snatches Oddball’s weapon from his hands. Oddball
looks at him guiltily.
Monte turns to the rest of the men, “Everyone take a deep
breath and calm down!”
Oddball shakes with fear. Monte shines his flashlight ahead
and illuminates a dead rat that’s been blown to bits. Monte looks to Oddball
who sighs and shrugs.
Monte hands Oddball back his weapon, “Johnson, take point.”
Johnson slips past. Pilch lights a cigarette and hands it to
Oddball.
“Thanks, pal.”
Vanessa puts a hand on his shoulder, “I would have shot it,
too.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah, he had it coming,” and she smiles at him.
Oddball frowns, embarrassed.
Johnson stops as the tunnel opens into a football-field-sized
room with a low crumbling ceiling that’s held up by rough timbers. German
bodies litter the floor entrance. He puts his hand up, “Quiet. Somebody is…”
and he peers ahead.
He can see a group of Germans behind a makeshift barricade
at the far end of the room.
Monte grumbles, “Germans.”
“Live or dead?” Oddball asks.
Pilch smiles, “Dead by the time I’m done with ‘em.”
The Americans get into a firing line as several figures move
toward them from a side tunnel jutting off from the room midway along its
length.
Johnson spits, “Looks like they aim to hit us.”
Some of the figures move toward the Americans; most move
toward the German position. Monte looks to the figures moving toward them,
“What kind of uniforms are those?”
“I was right. Romans,” Vanessa says.
The attacking undead wear the uniforms of Roman
Legionnaires.
Pilch lines up his rifle on a German,
“Congratu-fuckin’-lations Professor.”
As they get closer the Americans can see they are almost
full skeletons --skin dangles from bone and the uniforms fit poorly with little
meat left on the men.
The Americans open fire. The Germans open fire on the Romans
from their position.
“Go for head shots!” Yusif screams.
Pilch smiles and mutters to himself, “Just the way I like it,”
he fires dropping the German with a shot through the head, “That felt good,” he
says evilly and lines up on another German, a fellow sniper, “Hello,
sweetheart.”
Pilch smiles as his finger touches the trigger. Monte
notices and hits him in the helmet as he fires, sending the shot wild. Muller
and the Sniper look over.
“That way!” Monte indicates the Romans.
“But . . . ”
Monte smacks Pilch in the helmet, “Fire!”
Pilch mutters to himself as he lines up on a Roman. Camir
slips past them and moves toward the German position.
“Where’s he going now?” Monte cries out.
“To the Germans,” Yusif tells him.
“Think we’ve got enough on our plate right now.”
The Roman attackers go down under the heavy American fire,
heads missing or obliterated, bodies flailing like broken dolls onto the
ground. Eerie screams of longing and death echo through the enormous room as
balls of energy exit the skeletons as they are put down. Camir calls from the
German position in Arabic.
“More are coming from the tunnel ahead!” Yusif translates.
The Romans’ battle cries echo through the room. Monte puts a
hand on Oddball, who is visibly shaken, “Steady, son. Grenades.”
With quaking hands, Oddball pulls out two grenades.
“Wait for my command.”
Camir and fifteen German survivors make a run for the Americans’
position.
“Who do we shoot?” Pilch screams.
Monte is unsure, and looks to the two different forces
advancing toward them.
“The Romans!” Yusif screams.
Pilch is lined up on the Germans; he
Oddball sighs, “Shut up Oddball, keep moving Oddball, knock
it off Odd . . . ”
Something moves in the darkness ahead.
Oddball screams, “Here they come!” and opens fire.
The rest of the men take up positions, and the tunnel is
instantly a blinding din of flashing gunfire.
Monte signals them to stop, “Cease fire!”
“Zombies!” Oddball screams and continues firing.
“Cease fire!”
Monte snatches Oddball’s weapon from his hands. Oddball
looks at him guiltily.
Monte turns to the rest of the men, “Everyone take a deep
breath and calm down!”
Oddball shakes with fear. Monte shines his flashlight ahead
and illuminates a dead rat that’s been blown to bits. Monte looks to Oddball
who sighs and shrugs.
Monte hands Oddball back his weapon, “Johnson, take point.”
Johnson slips past. Pilch lights a cigarette and hands it to
Oddball.
“Thanks, pal.”
Vanessa puts a hand on his shoulder, “I would have shot it,
too.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah, he had it coming,” and she smiles at him.
Oddball frowns, embarrassed.
Johnson stops as the tunnel opens into a football-field-sized
room with a low crumbling ceiling that’s held up by rough timbers. German
bodies litter the floor entrance. He puts his hand up, “Quiet. Somebody is…”
and he peers ahead.
He can see a group of Germans behind a makeshift barricade
at the far end of the room.
Monte grumbles, “Germans.”
“Live or dead?” Oddball asks.
Pilch smiles, “Dead by the time I’m done with ‘em.”
The Americans get into a firing line as several figures move
toward them from a side tunnel jutting off from the room midway along its
length.
Johnson spits, “Looks like they aim to hit us.”
Some of the figures move toward the Americans; most move
toward the German position. Monte looks to the figures moving toward them,
“What kind of uniforms are those?”
“I was right. Romans,” Vanessa says.
The attacking undead wear the uniforms of Roman
Legionnaires.
Pilch lines up his rifle on a German,
“Congratu-fuckin’-lations Professor.”
As they get closer the Americans can see they are almost
full skeletons --skin dangles from bone and the uniforms fit poorly with little
meat left on the men.
The Americans open fire. The Germans open fire on the Romans
from their position.
“Go for head shots!” Yusif screams.
Pilch smiles and mutters to himself, “Just the way I like it,”
he fires dropping the German with a shot through the head, “That felt good,” he
says evilly and lines up on another German, a fellow sniper, “Hello,
sweetheart.”
Pilch smiles as his finger touches the trigger. Monte
notices and hits him in the helmet as he fires, sending the shot wild. Muller
and the Sniper look over.
“That way!” Monte indicates the Romans.
“But . . . ”
Monte smacks Pilch in the helmet, “Fire!”
Pilch mutters to himself as he lines up on a Roman. Camir
slips past them and moves toward the German position.
“Where’s he going now?” Monte cries out.
“To the Germans,” Yusif tells him.
“Think we’ve got enough on our plate right now.”
The Roman attackers go down under the heavy American fire,
heads missing or obliterated, bodies flailing like broken dolls onto the
ground. Eerie screams of longing and death echo through the enormous room as
balls of energy exit the skeletons as they are put down. Camir calls from the
German position in Arabic.
“More are coming from the tunnel ahead!” Yusif translates.
The Romans’ battle cries echo through the room. Monte puts a
hand on Oddball, who is visibly shaken, “Steady, son. Grenades.”
With quaking hands, Oddball pulls out two grenades.
“Wait for my command.”
Camir and fifteen German survivors make a run for the Americans’
position.
“Who do we shoot?” Pilch screams.
Monte is unsure, and looks to the two different forces
advancing toward them.
“The Romans!” Yusif screams.
Pilch is lined up on the Germans; he
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