"Sinking" Crossover

[MyLittleHellhound]

A crossover from "Sinking" by perfectlemonade...

5 years after the Carnival Cruise Ship Incident-

April 23 2014

North Carolina Military Base

[i am sitting down across from a man. No, not a man, a boy. He couldn’t be a day over 20. We are in a small concrete bunker, one window and only a solid door. I sit across from him on a dirty plastic chair that has seen some better days. Outside is a dark grey mess of skeleton skyscrapers and burned out shacks, where snow settles and coats everything in a soft white powder. There is a distant chatter of gunfire.]

It’s been…5 years and 3 days since that incident. Five bloody years. And you know what? I still think about it. Them. Mom. The horror of it all. The blood, the moans, and the screams. It's happening out there as we speak.

*He waves his hand towards the dirty window*

You know how I got through it all? That's right. I don't know how I did either. But I came back to this, this hellish place they call Earth. What we used to call home.

{How did you end up here?}

Let me see...well, first you have to start out at the beginning. The cruise ship. By God, there must have been 5000 of them on that cursed boat. We planned to get to the engine room and stop it from blowing us sky-high...but first the hurricane had to extinguish the fires y'know? That day and night was one of the most uncomfortable experiences of my life. The boat was rocking back and forth; I could see those things getting swept over the edge by the huge waves. I wanted to throw up for half the time.

*He laughs*

We managed to escape that little dilemma after all.

{Where did you end up?}

I went back to stay with my dad, Colin, and Emily. Things were good for a bit; we could pretend life was normal. Or…as normal as it would ever get. But I could never forget those things aboard the boat. Could any of us? Maybe Colin…maybe Colin. But not me and not Emily. As you might have seen from my records, we have lived here since. This military base with my dad? Yeah, it’s nice. That all changed. All good things come to an end right?

{Yes, unfortunately they do.}

This place, the city…I thought it was safe. How could the infection spread? How did it spread? None of us carried it; we were checked about a million times! Nonetheless, the disease got here. It got everywhere. Earth became a hellhole. A complete and utter catastrophe.

Our platoon was sent to deal in Wilmington, to help contain the infection, and to also “control the crowds.” Whatever that was supposed to mean. I thought that was a stupid idea, considering how chaotic it was to the East.

I remember the first days, the initial panic.

Wilmington was burning oily black smoke in the sky, and choppers and planes were flying over the whole thing. There were all these ships in the harbor, smashing into each other, trying to dock, trying to maneuver through the mess. Smaller boats were getting crushed under the hulls, and people were even trying to swim! Some boats were shooting at each other and boarding parties wreaked havoc. Oh I almost forgot! The fucking Navy was there alright, shooting at everyone and everything that looked like it had a trace the infection.

*He traces the scars on the side of his face*

We pulled up in Hummers on the major road to the harbor armed with some gas canisters. But no riot gear. How the hell were we supposed to control crowds if we didn’t have proper gear? What half-assed commander thought that one up! Anyways, we got out, and formed a small line, bolstering the shaken and outnumbered police and local “volunteers”. There were a shitload of people running down the road, and did we fire? Hell, we had to. We didn’t know if they were infected or not.

*A shadow crosses his face*

The first shots stopped everyone in their tracks for just a second. Then they rushed forward like a tide, sweeping away our defenses like wind against a leaf. I remember the panic, the people rushing past me. I just gave up after that. Just held my gun and said “Fuck no.”

{Where were the infected?}

They were right behind them, coming from the city. Our platoon leader managed to assemble us into a more ragged line. Those people that had just rushed past were the stragglers, the last of the city to make it to the harbor. I remember just seeing a dark line on the horizon, and then I could see them all. The undead, in all their glory. Rotting flesh, missing limbs, they brought it all to the party.

We started firing, on full-auto. God knows I was. My finger was jammed down on the trigger the whole time, my M4 spitting out bullets. I switched out my mags automatically, hardly pausing. But they just kept coming. And that’s the thing that gets most soldiers. The fact that they never stop, no matter the losses, no matter the danger. You’d see one go down, and then it gets back up even though you blasted off half its limbs!

*He shakes his head*

A lot of the guys just froze, just gave up against this enemy. The Humvee’s 50.cals were blasting away, ripping apart the zombies. But like I said, they just get back up again. You gotta aim for their heads, take it right off. Our platoon, like every single platoon in the army learned to aim for the center of mass. Not the head.

*He taps his skull*

This is the smallest target. Half of our bullets missed, just thudding into the bodies. The other half…well, it was pretty damn bloody. I saw this one zombie, a man in some ragged suit. His face was all torn up and the eyes…the eyes. Black, soulless. Like demons, but worse. A rocket streaked by and exploded, taking out a dozen behind him. It tore his legs off, but he still kept crawling, gnashing those dirty pointy teeth. I shot him after that, burst his head like a melon. The others around me had used all their ammo. Most were on the Dead Man’s Click.

{What?}

When your gun is empty, when there are no bullets left. You jam on the trigger and it makes this “clickity click” noise, and you know you’re going to die because you don’t have anything left. We hadn’t killed many of them, just tore open a couple. Even the Humvee’s were out of ammo. They were closer soon enough, so close you could see the details on their face. Every open sore, cut, wound, bite mark. A lot of the men turned and ran, and we didn’t even bother trying to catch them. It was a lost cause, a lost battle. Good men died that day.

They slammed into our lines, growling, screaming, and the usual. I remember it too clearly, the one in front of me smashing my gun from my hands and pushing me to the ground. It was disgusting, being up that close to one. Its breath suffocates you, and the eyes just…turn you stone cold. A buddy of mine managed to take off its head though, thank god.

*His face darkens*

That guy is dead now.

{What about the retreat?}

The platoon leader ordered us to fall back, blowing on his whistle. Some of us managed to get in the Humvee’s. That small truck was what got us out of there alive. The zombies were overtaking us now, pinning us to the ground, surrounding us and tearing us apart. We couldn’t do shit. Bullets didn’t hurt ‘em, nor knives, nor conventional explosives. The military was equipped to fight people, not goddamn undead. I drove that time, gunning it and knocking down a whole shitload of zombies. Some Humvees weren’t so lucky though. They got caught in the crowds, the wheels, they get clogged up by the limbs. A ton of the passengers just got eaten alive, right in the seats. The screams…they were everywhere.

{But the last thing…that was the worst wasn’t it?}

Yeah, for sure. We were in the middle of a full-scale retreat, about 40 of us, when some big-shot commander called in support. Fighter jets...fighter jets...They screamed over us, firing DM 111 20 mm cannon rounds. You know what those are?

{No.}

They’re used for close range air defence. Completely useless against things that can’t feel pain or wounds. Man, it didn’t even kill one! Just gave ‘em more bullet holes…and what? They dropped bombs. Shock bombs. Which also, conveniently, did nothing. Nothing at all, to them. It killed a shitload of our men though, threw them through the air, roasted them, left them screaming on the ground to get eaten. Worst military decision I have seen to date.

*He takes out a crumpled picture*

Wilmington is dead. Gone. Nothing left. And soon, the rest of the world will be…

*He picks up his rifle*

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go kill some zombies.

[perfectlemonade]

Beastly.

My crossover coming soon. ;)

[heillingalj]

Wow, MLH, this is pure awesomeness, good work yet again!

Looking forward to your one now perfectlemonade!

[darkflareon]

I think it's great. I love the inteview style, it really suits this piece of writing. The detail is amazing painting a clear picture of the horror that the guy had to go through. I think this was great and would love to read more like this.

-Flareon