Zombies! (Episode 5): Sinners and Saints by Ivan Turner Page A
Authors: Ivan Turner
Tags: Zombies
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floods?” Smith asked.
There were none.
He clicked his tongue against his lower lip a moment in thought. He was trying to focus but all that he could think about was his family. Finally making a decision, he pulled the men out of the staircase and began to line them up. With the power of so many lights, the room began to take shape. One light caught a zombie just standing in the middle of the room. It turned its head away from the light, but didn't make any other motion.
“Hold your fire,” Smith barked, worried that any unnecessary gunfire would bring a horde of the things down on them. “Keep that light on it.”
He set up four men to guard the stairs, including Spinelli, who was in charge of squad four. The rest of the men formed a semicircular skirmish line. Their lights found four more solitary zombies, just swaying in the middle of the room. On the left and right, they caught sight of the walls. Behind them, too, was a broad wall fashioned out of hard clay. There were dark corneres where the wall met the walls of the alcove, but they were clear. In front, though, was just darkness, no indication of an ending or a way out.
“Hong, Martin, Willer, and Ruiz, take aim and fire.”
Four shots rang out and the four zombies fell to the ground. The rest of the men held still while the echoes of the shots faded. Then they waited in silence. Smith thought hard about their next move. He needed to complete a sweep of the area, but was worried about branching tunnels. For now, at least, there was just one way to go. Taking up a position in the center of the line, he pressed forward at a slow pace. The men followed directly behind him, holding their positions along the line. Ironically enough, they had practiced this formation just two days before should they be overrun in a wide open space like a park or a city avenue. He didn't suppose Culph and Heron had considered they would be fighting in a medieval labyrinth. Smith half expected the Balrog to come crashing out of the darkness.
“I've got one,” someone called on the end.
Smith called a halt and ordered him to take it out. Once again there was a gunshot and then some waiting. Then they moved forward again. This process was repeated two more times, only a few paces apart. Finally, in front of them, the mouth of a passage appeared. It was directly ahead of Smith's position and appeared empty. To the left and right, they had not lost sight of the walls so he could only assume that the large chamber was clear of the undead.
He couldn't take twelve men into this passage. It wasn't as narrow as the one in the basement above, but they would get bunched up if they all crowded inside. In the end he chose Willer, Hong, Andreyev, and Ruiz. Willer and Hong flanked Smith as he moved forward while Andreyev and Ruiz kept three paces back, providing cover and light. Together, they moved slowly forward, their lights much more effective in the enclosed space. Up ahead the tunnel bent to the left. A lone figure crouched in the corner, her arms up above her head. Even when the light hit her, she did not look up. There were no visible wounds and she trembled in the cold.
“Miss?” Smith said, still several paces away. “My name is Gregory Smith and I'm a police officer. Can you understand me?”
Next to him, Hong's gun rattled a bit. Smith gave him a look, putting a hand on the barrel to steady it.
“There's nothing alive down here, Smith,” he whispered.
“Let's make sure of that, eh?” Smith stepped forward. “Miss, please look at me. We need to be sure that you understand.”
A small sound came from her. It didn't sound like their moaning, more like a sob. Slowly, she began to turn her head. Smith stopped in place, his own rifle shaking ever so slightly in his hands. When she turned her face fully toward them, they could see a pretty girl with black lines of
There were none.
He clicked his tongue against his lower lip a moment in thought. He was trying to focus but all that he could think about was his family. Finally making a decision, he pulled the men out of the staircase and began to line them up. With the power of so many lights, the room began to take shape. One light caught a zombie just standing in the middle of the room. It turned its head away from the light, but didn't make any other motion.
“Hold your fire,” Smith barked, worried that any unnecessary gunfire would bring a horde of the things down on them. “Keep that light on it.”
He set up four men to guard the stairs, including Spinelli, who was in charge of squad four. The rest of the men formed a semicircular skirmish line. Their lights found four more solitary zombies, just swaying in the middle of the room. On the left and right, they caught sight of the walls. Behind them, too, was a broad wall fashioned out of hard clay. There were dark corneres where the wall met the walls of the alcove, but they were clear. In front, though, was just darkness, no indication of an ending or a way out.
“Hong, Martin, Willer, and Ruiz, take aim and fire.”
Four shots rang out and the four zombies fell to the ground. The rest of the men held still while the echoes of the shots faded. Then they waited in silence. Smith thought hard about their next move. He needed to complete a sweep of the area, but was worried about branching tunnels. For now, at least, there was just one way to go. Taking up a position in the center of the line, he pressed forward at a slow pace. The men followed directly behind him, holding their positions along the line. Ironically enough, they had practiced this formation just two days before should they be overrun in a wide open space like a park or a city avenue. He didn't suppose Culph and Heron had considered they would be fighting in a medieval labyrinth. Smith half expected the Balrog to come crashing out of the darkness.
“I've got one,” someone called on the end.
Smith called a halt and ordered him to take it out. Once again there was a gunshot and then some waiting. Then they moved forward again. This process was repeated two more times, only a few paces apart. Finally, in front of them, the mouth of a passage appeared. It was directly ahead of Smith's position and appeared empty. To the left and right, they had not lost sight of the walls so he could only assume that the large chamber was clear of the undead.
He couldn't take twelve men into this passage. It wasn't as narrow as the one in the basement above, but they would get bunched up if they all crowded inside. In the end he chose Willer, Hong, Andreyev, and Ruiz. Willer and Hong flanked Smith as he moved forward while Andreyev and Ruiz kept three paces back, providing cover and light. Together, they moved slowly forward, their lights much more effective in the enclosed space. Up ahead the tunnel bent to the left. A lone figure crouched in the corner, her arms up above her head. Even when the light hit her, she did not look up. There were no visible wounds and she trembled in the cold.
“Miss?” Smith said, still several paces away. “My name is Gregory Smith and I'm a police officer. Can you understand me?”
Next to him, Hong's gun rattled a bit. Smith gave him a look, putting a hand on the barrel to steady it.
“There's nothing alive down here, Smith,” he whispered.
“Let's make sure of that, eh?” Smith stepped forward. “Miss, please look at me. We need to be sure that you understand.”
A small sound came from her. It didn't sound like their moaning, more like a sob. Slowly, she began to turn her head. Smith stopped in place, his own rifle shaking ever so slightly in his hands. When she turned her face fully toward them, they could see a pretty girl with black lines of
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