Volume 1-6, Restricted Area: Part Two

The office building appeared new. Even though that aspect of the whole thing really bugged me, I really wanted to get inside. It was fuckin' cold out there in that parking lot. I limped to the front door, and went inside. Carl, Stevie, and Nate were all in there waiting. We were in what appeared to be some type of waiting room. I would go into some detail about the room, but if you've been to the doctor's, or a dentist or anything, you've been in this waiting room. It even had small speakers to torture people waiting with really bad music. There were no magazines though.

"Jim, what the hell happened?" Carl asked with this surprised look in his fuckin' head. Don't know what he was surprised of. Maybe he was surprised that I was still alive. God knows that I was.

"Dude, I don't want to do this job no more. I want out." I really didn't want to say that. I've never given up on anything in my life, and it hurt me to even think of quitting.

"They interrogated me hardcore, yo." Carl said, ignoring me but relaxing a little.

I had to know, "What did you tell them?"

"Those guys fingered my asshole tonight." He looked sad, and embarrassed saying that one.

Stevie of course had to chime in. "Awww man! No one ever fingers my asshole! What's a guy gotta do to get someone to finger his asshole 'round here?"

"That'll be enough." Nate spoke softly, standing up. He paused, quickly looked around, and made eye contact with each of us. "From all of you."

"Fuck that." Carl replied, with more of an assholeish tone than I'm used to coming from him. "This ain't fuckin' right, Nate. Me and Jim are gonna roll."

"You're not leaving." Said an unfamiliar voice from one of the speakers in the room. As that was said, the other door in the room opened up.

We all got real quiet. We stood there looking at each other for a minute. The room was filled with tension while we were waiting for someone to greet us, but it never happened. We moved on. Beyond the door was a long hallway with a red carpet, big archways, and high ceilings. It looked like it came out of an old mansion or castle or some shit. Goofy fuckin' office building. The four of us walked down the seemingly never ending hallway. Well, they walked, I sorta hobbled. I remember thinkin', "There's no place like home." I mean this was fuckin' stupid. It really did remind me of that scene in that fuckin' movie where that chick, her dog, a pussy lion man, and her fuckin' robot went to see that wizard in that big fuckin' green castle thing.

Fuck it.

There was a large doorway, which we all boldly forced open, at the end of the hall . By this point, I think all of our nerves were shot, and we didn't want to deal with bullshit. We went through the doorway only to be blinded by an extremely bright light shining directly into our eyes.

A man's voice called out from the light with a very relaxed tone. "Oh, I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect you all so soon." We all just stood there like a deer caught in somebody's headlights, literally. "I got the projector aimed at the wall behind you. It can be blinding. Good film however. Very..." He paused as if he were thinking of the right words. "...biographical when you consider where today's society is." His voice switched to a faster paced more excited, giddy, and stuttering tone."In this one, it all started in Europe, and they used a local pub for shelter, but the essence of the situation, the, the flavor of the moment remained the same, which is what I find to be the most poignant aspect of the piece. That being said, the idea that it's actually considered a comedy in most circles..."

"Dude!" Carl loudly interrupted. "Shut, the fuck, up!"

The voice paused, and continued. "Not a fan of the classics, I see. Pity. You're missing out on a lot of rewarding journeys."

"Will you please turn this thing off? We all have work to do." Nate interrupted, as cold and professional as always.

"Ahh yes. A business man. Good. You're much better at this than Mr. Thomas." The voice continued.

"How the fuck do you know who I am?" Carl asked, seemingly trying to sound intimidating, but I could tell he was getting worried.

We could all tell that Carl was getting impatient, and wasn't gonna just stand there to ask questions anymore. Nate softly grabbed his arm. "Stay close. Watch him but lemme handle this." Nate whispered to Carl. "I've dealt with him before."

"I am happy to see that you've all made it here unscathed. Let me rephrase that in light of Mr. Richter's obvious injuries. I'm glad you all exist." He said as he turned off the projector, and turned on the lights revealing a fuckin' huge office.

What was weird about the place was it was decorated in posters and memorabilia of old films from back in the day when people gave a shit. I couldn't believe some of the shit that this fuckin' guy had. You know what he had? He had a fuckin' mannequin dressed up as a fuckin' stormtrooper. Okay, fuck that, I'm fuckin' digressing again.

He was a skinny little fuck from what I could tell behind his desk. He kinda looked like the Monopoly man. If you know any thing about old games, you know what I'm talking about. If you don't, forget it. It's just that the guy had a big bushy mustache and a fuckin' suit on. We'll leave it at that. When he turned on the lights, Nate spoke up again. "Alright Dawson, why are we here?"

"Mr. Dobbs, I haven't been properly introduced to your partners, and I would have appreciated it if you would allow me make introductions before you began your interrogation." Dawson replied with a smug attitude.

"We don't care about formal introductions, man. We just want to know what the hell is going on." Stevie spoke up, and for the first time since I met him, he wasn't annoying. He simply stated what we were all thinking.

"Very well." He said, sounding disappointed. As he spoke, he moved out from behind his desk.

What struck me odd was exactly how he moved. The fucker was in a wheelchair. I don't want to get off on another unrelated topic again, but I gotta say this shit. I don't know what the fuck he was doing alive. There, I said it. You know as well as I do that people are assholes, their very nature is self-centered, and they care about no one but themselves. People in wheelchairs, and with other problems don't make it too fuckin' long 'cause they need too much help from other fuckin' people. Other people just don't give a shit, for the most part.

Anyway, this fuckin' guy wheels himself out from behind his desk and says, "About three days ago, I had sent two couriers into Boardman to do a job. They were supposed to return two days ago. We haven't heard from them."

"And you want us to go in after them?" Carl asked.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. It's not the couriers themselves that my associates and I are concerned with, as much as the item that we had contracted them to retrieve." He replied.

"So you don't give a fuck about those other guys, you just want yo shit?" Carl interrupted.

"Correct Mr. Thomas, but please don't interrupt me again." Dawson responded with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Nate got aggravated and jumped in. "Enough!" he looked at us all. "We walk. Now. Let's go." Nate turned around and began to walk to the hallway, I'm sure wondering if we would follow him. I honestly didn't know what I wanted to do. I wanted to hear more.

"As I stated before you came in here, you're not leaving. This job is not a request. It's an order. From where I sit, you simply have no alternative."

Nate stopped, and turned around. "Boardman's restricted. What the hell are you trying to pull, Dawson?"

"I'm trying to pull nothing, Mr. Dobbs. I'm simply stating that, not only do you have nowhere to go safely due to the 'condition red' status, but Mr. Dixon has requested your presence in this matter."

"Condition red's a joke. The dead's never bothered me. What else ya got?" Nate replied in defiance.

"Well, aside from your mistake in going against Mr. Dixon, I feel obligated to warn you that 'condition red' is not referring to the dead." Dawson said, leaning back in that fuckin' chair with a smile.

"Why the hell we on alert then?" Carl interrupted.

Dawson wheeled himself back behind his desk, and began toying with his personal computer. "I've taken the liberty of selecting some stills from my surveillance cameras throughout the region. Take a look for yourself." He motioned for us to look at the monitors on the right wall of the room. "The local squiggies have found a few of these while patrolling the region. Granted, It's not many, but I'm sure you'd agree that even one of them is cause for alarm." The four of us gazed at the monitors. The mood in the room shifted immediately, from a defiant, cautious one to a cold fear that I've never felt from this crew.

What we saw were blurry images of two or three people each in different locations. It was hard to fuckin' see 'em through the fog. They seemed to hover two or three feet above the ground. We could clearly see some of their limbs hanging from strands of flesh off of their bodies.

As it turned out, they were impaled by different objects. One of them looked like a yield sign. Understand the weight of that statement. A fuckin' yield sign! A lot of people don't drive much so you might not know, but a yield sign is a big assed upside down triangle. The motherfucker was put through that. Suddenly, walking corpses didn't seem like such a big fuckin' deal.

"Holy shit. Carl, what happened?" Stevie asked showing how sheltered his life had been up 'til this point.

"Them things are fucked up." Carl replied. We could tell he was still in too much shock to respond.

Not allowing the silence to continue, Nate began to explain, "When things started to fall apart, some people boarded up their homes and banded together to survive. The people who did this, didn't." Nate stopped for a second. "When people are surrounded by walking corpses, and alone for too long, things in their head snap. Their brains stop working on a human level."

"Yes, I find it very interesting that they, in a way, emulate the main thing they left civilization to avoid, the dead. That being said, you have to hand it to them. They've taken the horrors of it all, and added a calculating, intelligent carnage, and insanity to the world. They've really brought the situation to a whole new level. Wouldn't you all agree?" Dawson made a quick pause and continued, not giving anyone a chance to respond. "Fear them of course, but you must respect the simplicity of their way. The, the perfect and unwavering ..."

"Dude!" Carl loudly interrupted. "Shut, the fuck, up!"

"I see you, and they have much in common, Mr. Thomas." Dawson said in a very condescending tone.

Carl looked at Dawson like he was insane. "Don't make me put my foot in yo ass."

Stevie continued his questions. "So, who are they?"

"Most people call them 'Outlanders.' They're nomads. They never stay in one spot. They just move from one populated area to another literally devouring every living thing in their path." Nate continued.

"But Mr. Dobbs, they didn't eat those guys." Stevie responded.

"No, people are different. No one knows why, but when they go after people, it's handled with much more barbarism. Sexual assaults, torture, maiming, impalements, all of it, it's ritualistic." Nate stopped for a moment looking like an old soldier having a flashback. "I've never seen them in action, so I really don't have all the answers."

"If you had seen them, rest assured you'd find yourself out there on a stick yourself." Dawson added.

"So what's the deal Dawson? Do they have a unit protecting the region or what?" Nate asked.

Dawson smiled, confident that he had us where he wanted us. "The central government is sending a unit, but unfortunately, it's at least a day away. So there you have it. The choice is yours, Do you risk venturing into the deadly, restricted, and unrested Boardman, or do you leave and take your chances with the outlanders?"

"What are we going in there after?" I asked.

"Ah yes, Mr. Richter. It's about time you opened your mouth. I never would have thought you'd be able to keep it shut as long as you did." Dawson smiled and handed me a piece of paper. "You're to go to the address written here. There you will meet an associate of mine named Cathrine Spivey. She will give you an envelope. Return it to me. It's very simple."

"What's the pay?" Since I could tell that no one else was gonna have the balls to ask.

Dawson sat there, and thought about it for a quick second. "I'm authorized to give you each five thousand for your troubles, assuming that you return of course."

"No way." Nate jumped in. "Paper money don't work anymore. It's worthless. I need something more real.

Dawson responded. "Well, I have nothing else to offer, but cash will do fine.

Nate was getting annoyed. "No it won't."

Dawson smiled. "Cash WILL do fine."

"No it won't." Nate was getting loud at this point. "You people are all the same, clinging onto a world that's as dead as the people in it. Cash is worthless. Ask ANYONE who has any sort of worldly experience."

"I'll tell you what, Superman." Dawson continued smiling. "There's the door. Go get raped, and impaled while I sit, and do business with your more intelligent colleagues here."

Nate appeared to calm down. "Seven thousand."

"Six." Dawson replied.

Nate smiled. "I can live with that."

"Now you all DO realize that because Boardman is a restricted area, this job is unofficial, and can have no paperwork." Dawson paused, reached into his desk, pulled out two hand held radios, and handed one to Nate. "These are calibrated to a special frequency, coded specifically to avoid any unwanted eavesdroppers. Use them ONLY when you've completed the job, or if you feel you're in immediate danger. Agreed?"

"How you gettin' us in and out?" Carl asked.

"Since walking would simply be suicide, due to the 'condition red' status, my driver will take you to the Boardman gates. Knowing my driver, he will then leave very, very quickly. You'll be on your own until you contact me again. I'll immediately send a car back to the gate to pick you up. Very simple."

The trip to the gate was short and foggy with the fuckin' orange lights, not much to talk about. We were there in no time. The four of us stood in front of the gate, waiting for Nate to throw his rope over so we could scale the fuckin' thing. It wasn't a big ordeal. We made it over pretty easily. I even had no problem with my leg wound, and my fuckin' vertigo issues.

I don't know if it was us jumping down off the fuckin' wall and they felt the vibrations, or they somehow heard us, or even smelled us, but the moment we got beyond the city wall, the corpses showed up outta nowhere. The first wave started to come in from a block away. Granted, all we could see was fuckin' orange shit, but we heard em comin'. Ya' know, that fuckin' moan that they do? It wasn't a big deal though, only about twenty of 'em. They were moving slowly enough that it would've taken 'em at least two minutes to get to us. That was enough time for Stevie to find a building for shelter. Things were running smoothly.

So, Stevie found a house pretty fuckin' quick. We went inside, and began to quietly devise a plan to get where we need to go to finish this fuckin' thing. We were in luck, The address of the building we were supposed to meet our contact was only a couple blocks from where we were. All we had to do was map out our course and get it done. The only problem we had was the twenty or so anal herpes bumbling around outside.

We all came up with the plan. We agreed that we'd quietly go out the back door together into the alley, follow it one block up, hang a left onto a side street, and make a mad dash for the target building. I have no fuckin' clue why that was so hard to understand. Things went well for a minute. We went into the alley, and up the other street. No problem, right? Stevie fuckin' goes right instead of left, kicks an aluminum can, the sound echoes all over the fuckin' world. The moaning got instantly louder through the orange fog from all around us. Then, Stevie fuckin' runs back to the rest of us screaming like a little bitch. As the plan dictated, we bolted for the building, but by the time we got there, we were fuckin' surrounded.

Nate immediately took charge of the situation. "Everybody put your backs together in a circle formation. If you got weapons, defend yourself, but don't waste your ammo." Nate moved so he was facing the direction of the building, which was around thirty or so feet away. "Stick close to me, I'm gonna' thin these things out and inch us closer."

"I have no weapons." I replied without thinking.

"Well then, you're gonna have to make due with your fists." He stopped for a minute. At the time, he was sort of behind me so I couldn't see him, but I could hear him fighting with some of them. "You are one simple son of a bitch comin' out here unarmed. Just stay close to Carl or myself." Nate's a fuckin' dickhead.

"Even I have weapons." Stevie added. Little fuckin' prick.

The fighting continued, corpses were getting rekilled left and right from Nate, and Carl's crossbows. Stevie and I couldn't do much except try to keep them off of us. Nate inched us closer and closer until we came to the front of the building. The front door was locked. "Richter, switch me places, and make yourself useful. Pick this lock while I keep them off you." Dickhead ordered.

I stood there at the door, working the lock as fast as I could. They were still holding the dead off, but we were running out of time. That's about the time where things went really crazy. Shit went down, Stevie tripped, and fell backwards. They were all over him instantly. I remember hearing his gut wrenching cries. You know what I'm talking about... Well, maybe you don't. If you've never been in a situation where someone is being eaten, and torn to pieces, you probably have no comprehension of how their cries could go right through you. I couldn't understand what he was saying mostly. One thing I was able to translate through the cries was, "Get 'em off me, they're biting my legs!"

"Just get that lock open man. Don't pay no attention to what's goin' on." Carl yelled to me.

I kept working on the thing, still hearing Stevie screaming. Then either everything went quiet, or I blocked it all out 'cause suddenly, I heard absolutely nothing.

Click.

I must be the 'master of unlocking' because my pick gave way pretty fast, and the knob turned. The door flew inward as if it were in a fuckin' vacuum. I remember that exact thought going through my head when it opened. Then, I got sucked in. I can't remember much after that. Just that there were a bunch of them inside. Their hands were all over me. I blacked out.

"Hey fuckhead, wake up." It sounded like Carl. I opened my eyes to see him standing above me. I looked around, tryin' to get a feel for my surroundings. The room looked like a lobby to a fancy hotel. It had a big spiral staircase, and chandeliers, and shit. The lights were off. There were spider webs, and dust everywhere. It fuckin' looked like somethin' outta Scooby Doo.

I was sorta in a daze."What the hell happened, man?"

"They all grabbed you, and you fainted." He started laughing. "That was some funny shit, man. We took care of it, you're fine." He kicked me. Bastard.

"What about Stevie?" I asked, preparing for the worst.

"That nigga's wearin' four pair of corduroys. He ain't gotta scratch on him. He's passed out over there on the couch." Carl reached out his hand to help me up. Stevie's fine. I remember thinking at one time that it was a mistake to be wearin' so many layers of clothing. That night was the exception to the rule. I'm glad.

"So, what now?" Since I was out of it for a bit, I needed to know the next plan of action.

"Now, we call Dawson up and get the hell out of here." Nate replied.

"Yeah, man. You missed it. We found that Spivey bitch." Carl added.

I was surprised. "Nice. What happened, where's she at?"

"She tried to eat us. Nate shot her. We got the shit though." Carl said, with the excitement of a guy about to get paid.

"We got the envelope all right, no thanks to you." Nate said, again being a total dick.

Carl got quiet, and spoke softly to me. "Hey, don't pay no attention. I'm glad you here. You got the door open."

"Yeah Carl, that's worth six thousand bucks. Good contribution, Richter." The prick sarcastically interrupted.

"I've about had it..." I began to get ready to tell him where to stick it, but there was a loud pounding on one of the doors in the building. I think I heard some screaming too.

"Save it, Richter." Nate interrupted, running for the door. He quickly turned the lock, and opened the door. Two people came running through faster than I had ever seen anyone run in my life. They slammed the door behind them. Nate got knocked onto his ass in the commotion. He looked at me and said, "Thanks for the help, guys."

Hearing the ruckus, Carl came running in. "Sorry man, I was in the other room."

Nate quickly got up."It's cool. I wasn't talking about you anyway." He paused, and shook his head. "I had to help these people myself, since Richter was too busy cryin' to help me."

At this point, I was done biting my tongue. "You know what, cocksucker? You've been giving me an attitude since Milan, and I haven't done shit to you. What the fuck is your problem!?"

"You're my fucking problem. You're EVERYONE'S problem. I can't even count how many times in the past few days, I've heard you whine, 'I wanna go home. I wanna go home!' Then fuckin' go home!" He stopped for a quick second. "You have no respect for yourself, or the job. You didn't even have the brains to bring any type of protection. I don't like you because you're gonna get someone killed by being careless and stupid. I've seen it happen over a dozen times with guys like you. Now, cowboy the fuck up, and do your job!"

I didn't know what to say. Was he right? Am I wasting my time? I just nodded. "Alright, you done?" I paused. "Feeling better?"

I'm not gonna talk about how I was feeling at that moment. I'd rather keep that to myself. Things got quiet after that. You could call it an uncomfortable silence. That's when I heard possibly the cutest female voice I'd ever heard. That's the only way I could describe it, cute. Even in my current mood, it made me feel a little better. "Do you guys want us to come back some other time?"

"No, you're fine. I'm done with him." Nate replied.

I looked over to see who the hell just came through the door. It was just some pretty boy lookin' dude, and this drop dead fuckin' gorgeous redhead. She looked to be in her early twenties. I mean this girl looked so good, it was scary. She was wearing what appeared to be a really tight anti-shark suit underneath normal clothes. She was dirty too. You know what I'm talking about. Ever see a really good looking chick work on a car or somethin,' and then she gets that grease on her face, and although it's dirty, she becomes that much more sexy? Yeah, like that. I could tell immediately that before this little adventure was over, I was gonna bang this broad.

She held out her hand to greet us. "Hi, I'm Dory Flint." She motioned to the other guy. "This is my friend Rodney Maddox." We all made our introductions.

"I could just feel the love in this room the moment we got here. Don't let us stop you. Carry on with your verbal abuse." Rodney said, with a silly smirk on his face.

"Don't pay any attention to him. He woke up on the wrong side of the ocean." She said, with that cute little voice.

"Bed" Rodney said, to correct her.

"Huh?" She asked, obviously not knowing what he was talking about.

"BED!" He repeated, loudly and obnoxiously.

"NO!" She said, as if she were offended.

"Never mind." Maddox shook his head, and started to walk away. He quickly turned back around. "See? This is what I deal with, day in and day out, people who have the mental capacity of a ball of lint."

Nate took a step toward him, and spoke quietly, Only a couple of us could hear him. "You show the lady some respect, or you and I are gonna go 'round and 'round." Hmmf, that was the first time I actually respected Nate.

Dory spoke up to calm things down. "Nah, he's just kiddin' around. He does that sometimes."

"Alright everybody, we better contact Dawson and get the hell outta here." I said not wanting to prolong my time with ol' Dickhead Dobbs.

"Good luck with that." Maddox interjected.

"Why do you say that?" Carl asked.

Maddox gave out sort of a nervous laugh. "Little Dorian, and I called Dawson two days ago. He told us that if we didn't have the envelope that he wasn't coming."

Suddenly the room filled up with tension. Carl nervously spoke up. "Nate, get that radio out. Call Dawson."

As Nate pulled out the radio, Stevie came running into the room. "What'd I miss?" He looked around for a quick second. "Who the hell are you people?"

"Don't worry 'bout it right now, Stevie. Nate's callin' Dawson to get us outta here." I said.

Nate began to speak into the radio. "Dawson, you there? We got your envelope, send the car."

A voice came through the static on the radio. "Aah yes. The great Nate Dobbs. I'm pleased to hear from you."

"Yeah, we're ready to go." Nate responded.

"Wonderful. I will send my driver immediately." Dawson replied enthusiastically.

"Good, we'll be at the gate within thirty minutes." Nate put the radio away, and looked at all of us. "Alright ramblers, let's get ramblin'."

Many of the corpses that were outside the front door had moved to the back, where Dory and Rodney came in. We had to move quickly if we were to get to the fuckin' gate on time, and safely. The six of us ran out the front door, and ran as fast as we could toward the gate. Keep in mind, we had to make a right, and then go back down the back alley, and through that other house that Stevie found earlier. It was just the safest path.

We got to the gate just in time for the car to meet us there. We still had to scale the wall, but that was no big deal 'cause we had a good five minutes before any of the fuckin' corpses got to us. Anyway, we threw our ropes up onto the wall, and started climbin' that shit. We got to the other side, and guess what.

No fuckin' car.

Nate immediately got on the radio. "Hey, Dawson, we're here. Where's the car?"

"Oh, forgive me Mr. Dobbs. We've run into a little problem here." Dawson replied, sounding like he didn't give a shit.

"We don't want to hear about problems." Naturally, Nate was getting upset.

"Well, you see, my driver decided it would be best to cancel the trip, because of the continued Outlander threat. In light of the savagery they've shown as of late, I tend to agree." Dawson continued. "I'm sure you understand."

Nate looked as if he were going to explode. "Dawson, you better hope we don't get outta' here."

"Somehow, I don't feel as if that's something I'm going to have to worry about any time soon." Dawson paused. "So much for the late, great, Nate Dobbs." Nate screamed indistinctly, and slammed the radio down. It broke into a million pieces.

We didn't know what to do next. Rodney made it clear that when we got back to Austintown, Dawson would seriously be punished. I don't think he's gonna do anything though. He seemed like the type to be all talk.

The six of us stood there for a minute trying to decide what our next move would be. We didn't waste too much time because even through all that fog, we could see a few people off in the distance. They were impaled like the people we saw on Dawson's monitors. We'd decided that we had seen enough. A choice between zombies and outlanders, ain't no choice at all. We had to go back over the fuckin' wall.

Things were a blur for a minute there. I mean, it was sorta every man for himself. Just get the fuck over that wall A.S.A.F.P. That sounded great in theory, but well, I can only speak for myself, but when I got back up to the top of the wall, I hesitated goin' the rest of the way. Looking down from up there, granted, It was only about ten feet, but the worst thing that could have happened, did. While we were outside the gates, the anal herpes got to the wall, and were now blocking our way back in. They were all over the wall. straight down and at least five feet out was nothing but corpses trying to reach up to get us.

Jump for it and fuckin' pray. That was the idea. So that's what I did using every bit of muscle I had in my legs to clear the horde. I made it, but needless to say, it didn't feel good on this leg of mine. I didn't have time to think about it, so I blocked the pain out the best that I could, and kept running. While running, things seemed less of a blur, and I looked around to see the rest of the guys running along beside me. They must have decided to do the same shit that I did. There was only one problem, and it was a BIG one. Dory wasn't with us.

I stopped, and looked around. Naturally, the first thing that I looked at was the droves of zombies heading my way, but the second thing I saw was Dory, still on the wall. Her leg appeared to be tangled up in some of the old barbed wire that used to protect the wall. I didn't know what to do. Why am I always put in these positions. This trip has been one problem after another. I think I panicked a little, I remember thinkin', "I wanna go h..." I stopped myself mid thought.

I turned around, and went back toward the wall.

Noticing that I had turned around, Nate yelled at me. "Richter, you ignorant shit, you're going the wrong way!"

"I'm going back, Nate! Dory's stuck!" I replied, without stopping.

Nate stopped running, and took charge. "Everyone get back to the house, I'm going back for Flint!"

He followed me to the wall as the rest of the crew made a bolt for shelter. It all seemed like it was happening in slow motion. I looked back to see how close he was. He continued running, loading, and shooting his crossbow faster than I had ever seen. I wasn't sure if he saw her or not, so I yelled back to him, "She's caught on the barbed wire!"

"I see her, Richter! You just get your ass back to the house. I'll take care of this!" He ordered.

I slowed down enough for him to catch up with me. I don't know if it was fear, or if I did it just 'cause he told me to go back. Didn't matter, 'cause it was only a momentary lapse. I decided to keep movin'.

He cleared a path, jumped onto the wall, and climbed up. At the time, I don't think he even noticed that I'd ignored him. Well, after the bullshit he said to me, do you honestly think I'd actually listen to him? Would he have even given a shit?

So he climbed up there, and just ripped the wire off of her leg without protecting his hands or anything. Needless to say, a handful of fuckin' razor wire will fuck you up. His hand's were all bloody. So he literally lifts her up off of the wall, and jumps down only to find that they were all around us.

"I thought I told you to get back to the damn house." He yelled at me.

"Well, you need my fuckin' help." I copped a shit attitude of course.

He was gettin' pissed off again. "I don't need anything from you. Go back!"

He had Dory over his shoulders carrying her. She just looks up and says. "Come on guys! You can both rescue me." Her statement would have been funny if the herpes weren't closin' in. At the time, the way it looked, we didn't have a prayer. we were cornered. There was nowhere to go.

Nate put Dory down, and looked at me. "Jim, take her, and get outta here. I'll clear a path for you."

"You guy's are silly. I'm not a puppy dog! I can take care of myself." Dory said, with a giggle in her voice, obviously not understanding the weight of the situation.

Now, he said that he'd clear a path for us to get away, but I really didn't fuckin' see how. I mean, he was as cornered as we were. As that thought went through my head, he pulled out a machete and started cutting them things down two or three at a time. It was fuckin' crazy. Fuckin' heads and shit were flyin' all over the place. It was the most violent thing I'd ever saw. I couldn't stop laughing.

Nate, holding them at bay with his big assed knife, knelt down and opened up a manhole cover. "Jim, you guys get down there. Take care of her. I'm right behind ya." Dory went ahead of me, and climbed down the little ladder into the stinky poop water in the sewer. Nate was in front of me, holding them off as I began to climb down.

I started to climb down, but somehow, one of the dead guys lunged over me from behind, and got hold of Nate. I forced myself back upward to get the fuckin' thing to release him. Fortunately, I was able to break his grip on Nate. In the scuffle, some of Nate's clothing, or something ripped off of him and fell into the hole. It left his upper body pretty much naked, and vulnerable to attack. I started trying to fight the one off that was coming from behind, but I slipped, and slid down a couple of rungs on the ladder. Naturally, I climbed right back up.

When I got there, I couldn't believe my eyes. I was the sole living witness to the end of an era.

With his upper body exposed, he no longer had any protection from the multiple bites, and scratches that immediately followed. The first one came in from the left side, biting into his neck where it met his collarbone. The next three went to his abdomen. Three at once, blood spilled out everywhere, and I heard it trickle down into the manhole.

Knowing that sealing ourselves in would be our only chance, Nate kicked the manhole cover to me. Even in that state of being eaten, and torn to pieces, he was still trying to protect others. He was an arrogant son of a bitch, and full of pride. He didn't even scream. He fought them off the best he could as I stared onward.

With the raw, helpless flesh that was once Nate Dobbs in front of them, they pretty much ignored me. I grabbed the manhole cover, closed us in, and slipped down the ladder again. I fell all the way this time, and landed face first in the stankey water. The wind was knocked outta me, and I was in pain from the fall. I raised my head out of the nasty water, and opened my eyes to see a piece of cloth, snagged on some metal hanging on the ladder in front me. It was red, and bore a large yellow "S".

That's all I have to say about that.

Dorian came running over to help me up. "Jim, where's Superman?" She asked, obviously worried.

I stood up, "He's dead, Dory." I paused for a minute watching her tears well up. "With any luck, he'll stay that way." I grabbed the Stansfield/Superman flag from the ladder, and put it into my bag.

She looked at me in awe of what had happened. "I need a cigarette." She pulled out a smoke and put it into her mouth. Naturally she pulled out a lighter next and got ready to light up.

Was she really this dumb?

I snatched the lighter out of her hands before she had a chance to make a spark, ignite the methane down here, and blow the whole fuckin' town up.

Again, she looked like she was gonna' cry. I wanted to make her feel better, but I really didn't know how. At the time, I was dealing with my own inner bullshit. "It'll be okay, Dory. We'll get outta this. Just don't want the stench down here to mix with your lighter. Ya know?" I said, trying to let her know that I didn't mean to upset her.

"Okay, I didn't know." She responded not seeming as upset, now.

"It's better that we just sit tight for a bit. If I know Carl, he's gonna come for us. Don't you worry about it." I said, as I sat down on a dry spot along the wall.

"Yeah, you're probably right. I don't wanna go back up there anyway." She said, motioning to the manhole. "I'm drained anyway, after all that stuff that just happened."

"Alright. Just sit back and get some rest. I'm gonna write this shit down in my journal, and wait for Carl." I said, pulling my pad outta my bag. She was sleepin' before she even sat down.

So here I am. I'm underground, sittin' in shitty watter, and waitin' for the motherfuckin' calvary that might never even come.

This was supposed to be my day off.

11th Day Out---

I woke up to the sound of Dory's cute little voice. "Jimmy, you fuckhead, wake up! Come on man! Somethin's goin' on up there!"

"Alright. Alright. I'm up." I was pretty grumpy.

"Do ya hear 'em?" She started to climb the ladder. "Come on man!"

"Wait Dory! Come down here!" I yelled to her as she slid the manhole cover out of the way.

"Jimmy, the others are in trouble!" She yelled back to me as she climbed out of the hole.

Of course, I followed her. I climbed up the ladder behind her and outside, through the fog. I could see a shitload of zombies breaking into the house where the rest of our crew were holdin' up. Dory was running toward the house.

Jimmy! Hurry up!" She yelled, alerting the fuckin' corpses to our presence.

Many of the zombies that were assaulting the house had turned around, and were heading our way. Dory stopped dead in her tracks, obviously trying to decide which way to go.

"Dory, get back over here! They're safe!" I yelled, noticing that everyone was on the roof of the house. I had to think quickly. The last thing I wanted to do was to go back down in that fuckin' hole. I turned around to cover our back, and of course, they were coming from behind too. Now I know why the area was restricted. They're fuckin' everywhere.

Looking over, I could tell that Dory was headin' back my way. Also, I noticed some of the corpses that were headin' our way fall over from bolts to the head from Carl up on that fuckin' roof. As optimistic as that sounds, it looked like we were gonna end up in the fuckin' hole again 'cause they weren't gonna back off.

I don't know if I saw it first, or if I heard it. I think I saw it first. I fuckin' saw the corpses that were coming our way fall to the ground after seein' their heads nearly exploding. It wasn't Carl's little crossbow bolts either. After I saw the first few fall, I heard the gunshots, and the sound of helicopter blades overhead. I looked up to see the Ghosts soarin' over the area. The chopper was low enough to see that fuck Palmer on a gun turret hangin' off the side.

Why the fuck would Palmer be tryin' to help us? Based on what I know of him, and his buddy, Cale, it made no sense. Nevertheless, it was fuckin' Palmer in a suit and tie, in a helicopter, droppin' zombies like files with a fuckin' chain gun. The fuckin' thing made a few passes with Palmer fuckin' lightin' 'em up. Very quickly, there was a clear path for Dory and I to get to the house. We made a run for it.

We got within ten feet of the house when the rest of our crew came running out to meet us. Carl had his crossbow ready, and came right up to me. "Hey Jim, man, I saw what went down with Nate. There wasn't nothin' we could do, man."

I looked at him, and shook my head. "I know. I saw you shootin' at 'em a little bit ago. I appreciate that, though."

"I wonder what the fuck this shit's about." He said pointing at the helicopter landing nearby.

"I don't know, man, but you bet your ass that I'm gonna find out." I replied.

I started to hobble over to the chopper as Palmer got down off of his turret. He started to walk over to me. I didn't know what to say so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Dude. Thank you so mu..."

"Shut your mouth." He interrupted without even lookin' in my direction through those sunglasses of his. At least he stopped walkin', though.

I tried again. "What's goin'..."

He interrupted again. "Get everyone together, and get on board immediately." He paused for a quick second. "If you're not on board in thirty seconds, I'll shoot you."

I saw what that fucker did in the orphanage, so I knew he wasn't bluffing. I yelled out to everyone else, and told them to come to the chopper. That made me feel pretty fuckin' stupid 'cause they followed me, and were already there.

We all got on board, and my head was flooded with questions. I was pretty quiet for most of the ride, but I overheard Carl say something like, "I ain't gonna' kill nobody. Jus' gonna' scare 'em is all." I think he and Rodney were plottin' some shit.

The chopper set down on the roof of Dawson's office building, and before the rotors even stopped, his driver was there with a small arsenal. I don't know what the fuck he had, but the fuckin' gun was bigger than him. He pointed it at us, and it looked like he was gonna fire, but Palmer dropped him with one shot to the forehead as he stepped off the chopper. He was faster than shit too. I didn't even see him pull that little handgun out.

"Hey, what kinda' gun is that?" I asked pointing to the driver's body.

"M60." Palmer said, kicking the door to the roof open, and going inside. The other couriers followed him in, while I slowly limped behind. They were goin' for Dawson's blood. I didn't want any.

"Aren't ya gonna join them?" Said a familiar voice from behind. I turnd around to see the pilot walkin' toward me in the traditional Ghost business suit, and a big assed fuckin' pilot helmet.

"Why did you come for us?" I had to know. I'd never seen a Ghost do a kind thing for anyone before. As that thought went through my head, the pilot removed the helmet and threw it onto the ground.

Again, I thought my eyes were playin' tricks on me. It was Amelia. "I had to do something, Jim." She said, with a look of sadness on her face.

I was in shock. "You're one of...THEM?"

"I wasn't the other night!" She yelled.

I didn't even fuckin' remember what the fuck happened the other night. "I don't even fuckin' remember what the fuck happened the other night!"

"We talked." She said, calming down. "But right now, I don't have time to talk. I have a job to do." She said walking away from me, and going inside.

After a couple minutes of thinkin' about shit, I went inside, and downstairs. I walked into Dawson's office to see Dory standin' back at the door with Amelia, while Rodney was slappin' Dawson around. Carl was pacing in front of Dawson pretending to be the heavy.

Dawson saw me come into the room, and pleaded to me as if I were in charge of them, or somethin'. "Richter! Richter, Get them off of me. I swear, you guys got it all wrong. Please. It was my driver. He wouldn't come to get you. I told him, if he didn't he's fired, but he was willful, you see. He, he said that you'd be fine and..."

"Dude!" Carl grabbed Dawson by the throat. "Shut, the fuck, up!"

Dawson immediately shut the fuck up. It was then that Amelia chimed in. "Step aside guys." She said with an extreme aura of professionalism. "Dawson, you're under arrest for the violation of Restricted Area Codes, Forty-two, and Twenty-nine. You're also being charged with the murder of Nathan Dobbs."

She got behind his wheelchair put him into cuffs. As she was doin' that, that fuckin' Cale Raines showed up. I never wanted to see that fucker again, but unfortunately he was there with as big a mouth as before. "Amelia!" He yelled. "A word, please." He gave me a quick look. "OH! Hi, Jim!" He said, with excitement and stood next to me.

She came walking back to where we were standing, as he put his fuckin' forearm on my shoulder, and leaned on me as if he were a buddy of mine or something. "Hey Cale. What's up?" She asked, while Rodney started slapping Dawson again.

"You know that I love you like a sister right?" Cale asked.

I could immediately tell that she was getting pissed. "Yeah, WHY!?"

"You're relieved. I'm taking over this investigation." He said, with a look on his face similar to a guy that just told his wife that he wrecked the car.

"YOU'RE WHAT!?" It looked like her head was gonna fuckin' explode.

"The company's orders. They think you're a little too close to the situation. Right, Jim?" He said returning his facial expression back to that annoying fuckin' smile.

"FINE!" She said, as she stormed out of the room.

Cale just looked at me. "Women. Right Jim? Shut up, Flint." He said, as he walked over to Carl and Rodney. "Is this guy giving you two a hard time?"

"Nah, he's ready to go, we're just havin' some fun with him." Carl responded.

"Oh okay." Cale said, with his trademark smile. He pulled his gun with lightning speed, and put four in Dawson's chest. Executed. Dawson flew backward from the force of the bullets, and his wheelchair fell over. We heard the gurgling sound of the blood coming up out of his mouth as he hit the floor. Cale put one more shot in Dawson's head. "Can't be too careful, right? You people better get back to The Haven." Cale said, as he put his gun away, and walked to the exit.

Fuckin' time to go home.

Next: Mausoleum