A Zombie Story Thread
- Thread starter mordechaianiliewicz
- Start date
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zombienerd
Member
More, More, MORE!! 
I love it
I love it
mordechaianiliewicz
Member
I will have a little more in a bit
BHP FAN
Member
Good man!
jordan1948
Member
Sir I do thank you.
Autopistola
Member
Compelling, really. I very much enjoyed the story so far. If you're going to publish then I'd really like to add some illustrations (not for free, though).
sojournerhome
Member
Bump
mordechaianiliewicz
Member
The Linkup
Chapter 25
The Linkup
Carl Heinrich had moved like a bat out of hell once he got past the main mass of zombies. That was until he got to the town's Wal-Mart. The lot had several of them milling about. Heinrich had noticed a while back that the zombies moved fast, when they want to. The scientist and Doctor in him really wanted to know how this had happened. The man in him just wanted to survive, and find out if his family was still alive. The good Doctor got out of the truck a good 2 blocks away, the M-1A strapped across his back, the Ruger 10/22 at his shoulder, the .357 at his hip. He stalked along the road, head down, trying not to attract the attention of the zombies. Around his neck were a pair of binoculars.
Putting the binocs to his eyes he located the main doors and a freight dock. Most of the zombies were in the front. He only saw two milling about near the freight dock, so he decided to try to enter through there. He moved bent at the knees, trying to take the space of about a 1/2 mile as quickly as possible. Years back, he'd gone to biking and swimming for exercise, instead of running and jogging like he had for decades before that. The problem, of course was that for decades, he'd ran, and jogged, and now, his knees felt like they were going to fall off his body, leaving him to crawl towards the Wal-Mart.
Nevertheless, he made it there, seeing that there were 3 zombies instead of only two. Nevertheless, he thanked the lord above he'd purchased, and then brought here the little semi-auto. Though he could likely have popped all the zombies with a bolt or lever, there would be a good chance the others would be upon him by then.
He took aim, and hit the first in the forehead, the gun making a noticeable, but relatively light sound, compared to the boom, and sonic crack of the M-1A on his shoulder. That shot thudded into the head of a zombie who's Wal-Mart nametag read "Fannie." She dropped where she stood, only a small trickle of blood running down her forehead. But, he was onto the next zombie, an older man who probably wouldn't have been able to move fast, even if he had seen Heinrich working from a position of concealment behind a knotty pine tree. A single round nearly on top of his forehead, and the man fell over, dead. Then, the final round into a very confused, very lanky zombie who had also been a Wal-Mart employee. His name had been "Billy."
Heinrich was up from the spot, rifle on safe, across the way only 25 feet away from the one time zombies, and looked down at his handiwork. He saw the first zombie "Fannie" who now just had a blank look on her face, her dead eyes just looking up at the sky. He'd never gotten used to that look in all his time in medicine, and couldn't get used to it now. Blanking out, and trying to handle this situation the same way he'd dealt with death in the past, his sense of humor took over, and he made an attempt at gallows humor.
"I've been trying to kill Fannie for the better part of my career in Congress..." he said, mostly to himself, before gathering himself together, and rumaging through the zombie's pockets, and finding a key into the dock access door.
He opened the door to the Wal-Mart, and walked into a huge warehouse section. This was a Super Walmart and the inventory certainly was super. Heinrich moved from one section of palets to the next until he came across a door into the store. He looked through the window, and sure enough, there were zombies milling about. There were also... guns.
Deciding it was worth it, Heinrich slipped through the door, and was crouched down in a beeline to the Sporting Goods desk. He leaped over the counter, and landed softly on a body. A middle aged man with a beard, and a healthy paunch was laying on the ground, still tilted up against the ammo counter. His neck had been ripped apart, and he hadn't incarnated as a zombie. Or, maybe, he had and been killed. But there was no sign of it. Carl looked at the man carefully, and wondered if he hadn't zombified. And that the reason was that his Central Nervous System had been cut in the neck from the other zombies feeding. He didn't know for sure, and he kicked himself back into gear, looking behind the man, and pulling him out of the way.
Behind the counter was a shelf for ammo. But, it had been picked bare, except for a couple boxes of .243 soft points, and a 550 round value pack of Federal .22s. Heinrich decided that the place had to have more goodies than just this somewhere. But, first he decided to see if there were other supplies he could get. He found a pair of camo overralls, and grabbed a machete. Then, he found the CB radios. Grabbing one, he looked at the instructions. There was an earpiece, digital channels, and a 3 mile range. About all he needed he figured. He grabbed the merchandise and went back into the stock area, looking to see if there was a way to identify Sporting Goods items. He was confused until he looked up and saw signs.
He walked around the back, looking above the stacked pallets of merchandise until he found a fair sized section with "Sporting Goods" written above it. He automatically looked at the pallets, and decided that it was alot more confusing than he wished it was. But, fortunately for him the first pallet in the front was stacked with Winchester FMJ for multiple calibers of pistol. He already had grabbed a backpack, and got hundreds of rounds of 9mm, .45 ACP, and .357 Magnum. Then, he found a small section with .308 Winchester Core-Lokts. Grabbing as many as he could he filled a now rather heavy backpack to the top, and hefted it on his shoulders, looking around himself to see a zombie only 2 feet away.
His .357 was out and he shot it in the head before it could move, the point blank shot tearing through it's nose, and blowing a chunck out of the back of it's head the size of a baseball. The zombie crumpled to the ground, but the shot had been thunderous. Even under the earplugs Carl had been wearing since he escaped his house, foregoing his Honda for his Ford pickup, he could hear his ears ringing.
He decided it was time to go, and turned towards the dock's door, when he saw another two zombies, both storehands. He was about to raise the rifle when a short stocky man jumped off a pallet and drove a machete into the back of the head of one of the zombies. And, then, a pistol was out of a position on his waist and being used to kill the other zombie.
“Man, you f-d up now.” he said. He was only about 5’8” but had broad shoulders and no neck. A large tattoo of a python went from his biceps and triceps to the top of his forearms. “Come on old man. We gotta get outta here. These zombies seem to smell better than they hear.... but everyone in town coulda heard that.”
“I gotta Chevy Scottsdale out on the street.”
“I left my truck a couple blocks away.”
“What is it?” asked the man, moving faster than Heinrich.
“2006 F-150.”
“So we’re takin’ your truck,” said the man with a smile as he moved to the door picking up a Savage bolt action rifle in one hand and a Mossberg Maverick in the other.
Getting out of the side door, they piled out to face 25 zombies, learing at them through narrow, ugly eyes. Carl raised his .357 and put a round into the face of the closest while the short tatooed man stuck the shotgun to the face of an onrushing zombie, and pulled the trigger. Pink mist, bone, and brain fragments flew all over as the 00 buck tore the zombie’s top of the head off, leaving only a jaw and a ragged chunk of cranium.
Already, he was moving on, pumping the shotgun, the next shell in the chamber being aimed at the head of Angie Hawkins, the one time prom queen at the local high school. She was caught in the center of her chest with a smal fist sized spread of buck. As she stood she was the last of the zombies. Only 5 had “survived” the 10 second spree of carnage there.
Heinrich’s .357 had a fresh 6 rounds, and one of them went into a zombie who had had his legs taken out from him. Meanwhile, not wanting to waste the ammo, the short man looked at Ms. Hawkins, now her face twisted into a ball of animalistic fury, and drew his machete. Regretfully, he brought it down over her neck and chopped her head clean off.
Him and Heinrich sprinted the 2 blocks to his truck. Once in, Heinrich turned the engine over, and looked over at the stocky man. “So, um, I’m wanting to check out the CB, if you could hand it over to me?”
The young man, who looked like a late teens, early twenties kid handed him the black plastic unit, and Heinrich began to go tjhrough the signal band until he heard chatter.
Renee Lincoln sat in her chair moving over the CB radio bands of the unit her husband had bought a while back for a song, and began to call out asking if anyone was on the line. Then, she got back “Um, this is Steven Carter.”
On the other end, Carl Heinrich was using his alias, and decided to go for broke, saying, “I’m from Groesbeck and um... the zombies have taken the town. Me and another guy are out. Is there a place we can go?”
Renee thought long and hard, and though she had experiences which said this could be a bad idea, she figured all of them being armed to the teeth, even if these were bad guys, they could protect against them, so she gave directions to the house, and then prepared to tell her husband, knowing George probably wouldn’t like it.
Chapter 25
The Linkup
Carl Heinrich had moved like a bat out of hell once he got past the main mass of zombies. That was until he got to the town's Wal-Mart. The lot had several of them milling about. Heinrich had noticed a while back that the zombies moved fast, when they want to. The scientist and Doctor in him really wanted to know how this had happened. The man in him just wanted to survive, and find out if his family was still alive. The good Doctor got out of the truck a good 2 blocks away, the M-1A strapped across his back, the Ruger 10/22 at his shoulder, the .357 at his hip. He stalked along the road, head down, trying not to attract the attention of the zombies. Around his neck were a pair of binoculars.
Putting the binocs to his eyes he located the main doors and a freight dock. Most of the zombies were in the front. He only saw two milling about near the freight dock, so he decided to try to enter through there. He moved bent at the knees, trying to take the space of about a 1/2 mile as quickly as possible. Years back, he'd gone to biking and swimming for exercise, instead of running and jogging like he had for decades before that. The problem, of course was that for decades, he'd ran, and jogged, and now, his knees felt like they were going to fall off his body, leaving him to crawl towards the Wal-Mart.
Nevertheless, he made it there, seeing that there were 3 zombies instead of only two. Nevertheless, he thanked the lord above he'd purchased, and then brought here the little semi-auto. Though he could likely have popped all the zombies with a bolt or lever, there would be a good chance the others would be upon him by then.
He took aim, and hit the first in the forehead, the gun making a noticeable, but relatively light sound, compared to the boom, and sonic crack of the M-1A on his shoulder. That shot thudded into the head of a zombie who's Wal-Mart nametag read "Fannie." She dropped where she stood, only a small trickle of blood running down her forehead. But, he was onto the next zombie, an older man who probably wouldn't have been able to move fast, even if he had seen Heinrich working from a position of concealment behind a knotty pine tree. A single round nearly on top of his forehead, and the man fell over, dead. Then, the final round into a very confused, very lanky zombie who had also been a Wal-Mart employee. His name had been "Billy."
Heinrich was up from the spot, rifle on safe, across the way only 25 feet away from the one time zombies, and looked down at his handiwork. He saw the first zombie "Fannie" who now just had a blank look on her face, her dead eyes just looking up at the sky. He'd never gotten used to that look in all his time in medicine, and couldn't get used to it now. Blanking out, and trying to handle this situation the same way he'd dealt with death in the past, his sense of humor took over, and he made an attempt at gallows humor.
"I've been trying to kill Fannie for the better part of my career in Congress..." he said, mostly to himself, before gathering himself together, and rumaging through the zombie's pockets, and finding a key into the dock access door.
He opened the door to the Wal-Mart, and walked into a huge warehouse section. This was a Super Walmart and the inventory certainly was super. Heinrich moved from one section of palets to the next until he came across a door into the store. He looked through the window, and sure enough, there were zombies milling about. There were also... guns.
Deciding it was worth it, Heinrich slipped through the door, and was crouched down in a beeline to the Sporting Goods desk. He leaped over the counter, and landed softly on a body. A middle aged man with a beard, and a healthy paunch was laying on the ground, still tilted up against the ammo counter. His neck had been ripped apart, and he hadn't incarnated as a zombie. Or, maybe, he had and been killed. But there was no sign of it. Carl looked at the man carefully, and wondered if he hadn't zombified. And that the reason was that his Central Nervous System had been cut in the neck from the other zombies feeding. He didn't know for sure, and he kicked himself back into gear, looking behind the man, and pulling him out of the way.
Behind the counter was a shelf for ammo. But, it had been picked bare, except for a couple boxes of .243 soft points, and a 550 round value pack of Federal .22s. Heinrich decided that the place had to have more goodies than just this somewhere. But, first he decided to see if there were other supplies he could get. He found a pair of camo overralls, and grabbed a machete. Then, he found the CB radios. Grabbing one, he looked at the instructions. There was an earpiece, digital channels, and a 3 mile range. About all he needed he figured. He grabbed the merchandise and went back into the stock area, looking to see if there was a way to identify Sporting Goods items. He was confused until he looked up and saw signs.
He walked around the back, looking above the stacked pallets of merchandise until he found a fair sized section with "Sporting Goods" written above it. He automatically looked at the pallets, and decided that it was alot more confusing than he wished it was. But, fortunately for him the first pallet in the front was stacked with Winchester FMJ for multiple calibers of pistol. He already had grabbed a backpack, and got hundreds of rounds of 9mm, .45 ACP, and .357 Magnum. Then, he found a small section with .308 Winchester Core-Lokts. Grabbing as many as he could he filled a now rather heavy backpack to the top, and hefted it on his shoulders, looking around himself to see a zombie only 2 feet away.
His .357 was out and he shot it in the head before it could move, the point blank shot tearing through it's nose, and blowing a chunck out of the back of it's head the size of a baseball. The zombie crumpled to the ground, but the shot had been thunderous. Even under the earplugs Carl had been wearing since he escaped his house, foregoing his Honda for his Ford pickup, he could hear his ears ringing.
He decided it was time to go, and turned towards the dock's door, when he saw another two zombies, both storehands. He was about to raise the rifle when a short stocky man jumped off a pallet and drove a machete into the back of the head of one of the zombies. And, then, a pistol was out of a position on his waist and being used to kill the other zombie.
“Man, you f-d up now.” he said. He was only about 5’8” but had broad shoulders and no neck. A large tattoo of a python went from his biceps and triceps to the top of his forearms. “Come on old man. We gotta get outta here. These zombies seem to smell better than they hear.... but everyone in town coulda heard that.”
“I gotta Chevy Scottsdale out on the street.”
“I left my truck a couple blocks away.”
“What is it?” asked the man, moving faster than Heinrich.
“2006 F-150.”
“So we’re takin’ your truck,” said the man with a smile as he moved to the door picking up a Savage bolt action rifle in one hand and a Mossberg Maverick in the other.
Getting out of the side door, they piled out to face 25 zombies, learing at them through narrow, ugly eyes. Carl raised his .357 and put a round into the face of the closest while the short tatooed man stuck the shotgun to the face of an onrushing zombie, and pulled the trigger. Pink mist, bone, and brain fragments flew all over as the 00 buck tore the zombie’s top of the head off, leaving only a jaw and a ragged chunk of cranium.
Already, he was moving on, pumping the shotgun, the next shell in the chamber being aimed at the head of Angie Hawkins, the one time prom queen at the local high school. She was caught in the center of her chest with a smal fist sized spread of buck. As she stood she was the last of the zombies. Only 5 had “survived” the 10 second spree of carnage there.
Heinrich’s .357 had a fresh 6 rounds, and one of them went into a zombie who had had his legs taken out from him. Meanwhile, not wanting to waste the ammo, the short man looked at Ms. Hawkins, now her face twisted into a ball of animalistic fury, and drew his machete. Regretfully, he brought it down over her neck and chopped her head clean off.
Him and Heinrich sprinted the 2 blocks to his truck. Once in, Heinrich turned the engine over, and looked over at the stocky man. “So, um, I’m wanting to check out the CB, if you could hand it over to me?”
The young man, who looked like a late teens, early twenties kid handed him the black plastic unit, and Heinrich began to go tjhrough the signal band until he heard chatter.
Renee Lincoln sat in her chair moving over the CB radio bands of the unit her husband had bought a while back for a song, and began to call out asking if anyone was on the line. Then, she got back “Um, this is Steven Carter.”
On the other end, Carl Heinrich was using his alias, and decided to go for broke, saying, “I’m from Groesbeck and um... the zombies have taken the town. Me and another guy are out. Is there a place we can go?”
Renee thought long and hard, and though she had experiences which said this could be a bad idea, she figured all of them being armed to the teeth, even if these were bad guys, they could protect against them, so she gave directions to the house, and then prepared to tell her husband, knowing George probably wouldn’t like it.
jordan1948
Member
Awesome awesome awesome!!!!!! It just keeps getting better and better.
mordechaianiliewicz
Member
Chapter 26
You Could Say He Was Upset
“My G-d, Renee. Do you not remember the whole murder, rape, looting squad thing that happened?”
“George we can use all the help we can get out here. I noticed you weren’t complaining too hard when the Army people came?”
“They were Army people... Hurt Army people. These are just... local town folks, we don’t know who they are or what they’ve done.”
Renee looked at her husband, not wanting to back down, “Look, we’ve got machineguns now. Even if it’s 3 carloads of bad guys, we can take ‘em out before they get to the house.”
George looked at her, and was still mad, but he’d broke, and she knew it. She could be so impulsive sometimes, and it was a 50/50 proposition as to whether he was going to like it or not. Sometimes it took the form of a new T.V. or a computer they couldn’t afford. Other times it took the form of grabbing him and slamming him on a bed for a couple of hours.... He knew which he preferred.
He looked into her coal black eyes and smirked out a smile, and said, “It’s cool. We’ll deal. We will deal, one way or another.”
He went to the dining room where his Dragunov sat and picked it up, grabbing 5 freshly loaded mags. Then he said, “General, my wife said we might have company.”
“Zombies?”
“Don’t know. Probably just some people escaping the zombies. But, it’d be a good idea to get a few people outside. If they aren’t on the up and up, or if they have friends, we’ll wanna be prepared.”
He set up on the top of his roof after a little climb, and set up the Dragunov while the camouflaged military folks set up behind M-4s waiting. About 10 minutes later, a 2006 Ford F-150 rolled down their country road, kicking up gravel and dust. Checking to make sure the rifle was safetied, because he had forgot binoculars, he looked down the road to the inside of the truck and saw two people. And older white man and a young black man. And the looks of ‘em were such that he whispered, “Bet you don’t see that everyday.”
The black man was clearly a body builder and wore a tight black wife beater. Though he was fairly dark, it was pretty obvious he had blood splattered all over his neck. Next to him, the older white man wore a short sleeved light blue polo shirt. Though he might not have been out of shape, any training regminen he held wouldn’t have called for the level of lifting that the black kid had. Granted, both of them were covered in blood, virtually. George looked closer, and he noticed the white man. Or atleast he thought he did.
The truck stopped short of the helicopters, by now the men were out of their vehicle, and walking up to several heavily armed soldiers. Although both of them were armed, they didn’t move to draw any weapons getting out of the truck. From a distance of 10 feet one of the military men took off his right glove, and walked up to the gray haired man.
“Congressman, it’s good to see you.”
The black kid next to him mouthed “Congressman?”
“General Stapleton. A pleasure.”
By now, George and Renee were there as well. “I’ll be damned,” said George. “You’re Carl Heinrich. I thought you were dead.
You Could Say He Was Upset
“My G-d, Renee. Do you not remember the whole murder, rape, looting squad thing that happened?”
“George we can use all the help we can get out here. I noticed you weren’t complaining too hard when the Army people came?”
“They were Army people... Hurt Army people. These are just... local town folks, we don’t know who they are or what they’ve done.”
Renee looked at her husband, not wanting to back down, “Look, we’ve got machineguns now. Even if it’s 3 carloads of bad guys, we can take ‘em out before they get to the house.”
George looked at her, and was still mad, but he’d broke, and she knew it. She could be so impulsive sometimes, and it was a 50/50 proposition as to whether he was going to like it or not. Sometimes it took the form of a new T.V. or a computer they couldn’t afford. Other times it took the form of grabbing him and slamming him on a bed for a couple of hours.... He knew which he preferred.
He looked into her coal black eyes and smirked out a smile, and said, “It’s cool. We’ll deal. We will deal, one way or another.”
He went to the dining room where his Dragunov sat and picked it up, grabbing 5 freshly loaded mags. Then he said, “General, my wife said we might have company.”
“Zombies?”
“Don’t know. Probably just some people escaping the zombies. But, it’d be a good idea to get a few people outside. If they aren’t on the up and up, or if they have friends, we’ll wanna be prepared.”
He set up on the top of his roof after a little climb, and set up the Dragunov while the camouflaged military folks set up behind M-4s waiting. About 10 minutes later, a 2006 Ford F-150 rolled down their country road, kicking up gravel and dust. Checking to make sure the rifle was safetied, because he had forgot binoculars, he looked down the road to the inside of the truck and saw two people. And older white man and a young black man. And the looks of ‘em were such that he whispered, “Bet you don’t see that everyday.”
The black man was clearly a body builder and wore a tight black wife beater. Though he was fairly dark, it was pretty obvious he had blood splattered all over his neck. Next to him, the older white man wore a short sleeved light blue polo shirt. Though he might not have been out of shape, any training regminen he held wouldn’t have called for the level of lifting that the black kid had. Granted, both of them were covered in blood, virtually. George looked closer, and he noticed the white man. Or atleast he thought he did.
The truck stopped short of the helicopters, by now the men were out of their vehicle, and walking up to several heavily armed soldiers. Although both of them were armed, they didn’t move to draw any weapons getting out of the truck. From a distance of 10 feet one of the military men took off his right glove, and walked up to the gray haired man.
“Congressman, it’s good to see you.”
The black kid next to him mouthed “Congressman?”
“General Stapleton. A pleasure.”
By now, George and Renee were there as well. “I’ll be damned,” said George. “You’re Carl Heinrich. I thought you were dead.
sojournerhome
Member
Thanks for the new chapters. I am enjoying your work.
jordan1948
Member
Great writing, this book is seriously addicting............maybe I'M a zombie and this book is made of brains..................I don't think so but it's possible.
mordechaianiliewicz
Member
I am going to try to have something else up on this tommorrow
william731
Member
- Joined
- Sep 8, 2008
- Messages
- 3
bump
JColdIron
Member
Nice work on this!
shouldifail
Member
wow, i just found this thread an hour ago....now i'm left wanting more. very good stuff.
keep it coming!
keep it coming!
learn2shoot
Member
Maybe this has been mentioned, but I think this would make a GREAT!!! tv series...
you should pitch it to Fox.
you should pitch it to Fox.
jordan1948
Member
I agree with you completely
indoorsoccerfrea
Member
I'm hungry for more brain-food!
KC0QGL
Member
I must have more!!! Don't make me beg! 6 hours (I read slow), half a pack of Camels and 1 can of Mt. Dew.
Also before I found this thred I spent about an hour playing Resident Evil 4 (working on beating it for the 14th time, NO joke).
Also before I found this thred I spent about an hour playing Resident Evil 4 (working on beating it for the 14th time, NO joke).
testar77
Member
Is it tomorrow yet????? 
Must...............have..............Mooooaaaaaarrrrr
Must...............have..............Mooooaaaaaarrrrr
ChCx2744
Member
- Joined
- Sep 12, 2008
- Messages
- 1,228
Hmm...Interesting story mordechaianiliewicz. I like the whole idea of integrating the "Quentin Tarantino" type of story scenario hopping too. It is good to have multiple stories going on at the same time to show the widespread scale of the situation you portray in this fanfic. Keep it up, quite entertaining.
deaconkharma
Member
helllooooooo?
more?
more?
jordan1948
Member
MORE MORE MORE!!!!! Sorry but this story is just GREAT!
skipbadger
Member
OK, if this story isn't going to continue, I might have to finally break down and get a gaming system to get my zombie fix.
I can always say it is a Christmas gift for my 4 and 2 year old girls...
I can always say it is a Christmas gift for my 4 and 2 year old girls...
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