Category: Zombie Strike

Monday Fiction – Zombie Strike – Part 7 – Chapter 72

Fifteen miles north of Redencion, Panama, 3 February 2011, 1915 hours local: Countdown: 10 months, 28 day

Eric Stahl slid through the darkened forest. For the first time in a long time, he felt alive. He barely kept himself from grinning as he crept through the trees. The vampires were good. They might have even detected him if they weren’t busy escorting the prisoners. Apparently, entranced humans tended to make a lot of noise tromping through the forest. More than enough noise to hide Stahl. At his heart, Stahl was a true LRRP. He might have been a US Army Ranger, but most Rangers were little more than jumped-up airborne soldiers. Stahl made his bones in recon, and had been mentored by one of the few remaining LRRPs. The old sergeant trained Stahl to be silent, steady, and deadly. Ninjas were rank amateurs compared to LRRPs. They just worked at night. LRRPs owned the night. Now, it was his turn to pass on the traditions.

Montgomery and her wolf were about twenty meters behind Stahl. The girl mimicked Stahl’s movements through the forest. She wasn’t as quiet as Stahl, but she was quiet enough. The raw talent was definitely there. Then, there was her wolf. Stahl didn’t know how Billy went from a mottled white coat to the brown-black pelt. He was pretty sure it had something to do with the wolf’s origin. Stahl also suspected the wolf was somehow helping Montgomery creep through the forest. He’d made the mistake of dismissing the wolf as a simple pet. If he got out of this forest alive, Stahl would figure out exactly what was going on with those two.

The trio trailed the vampires and their prisoners. The Zombie Strike and Truth people shuffled along behind a new vampire. This one looked like a traditional vampire, instead of the seven to eight-foot man-bat monsters the team had been fighting. The vampire was very tall, easily six-six, with the stereotypical pale skin and black hair. His features were smooth, reminding Stahl of a long-list of pretty-boys he served with over the years. Except for his eyes. Human eyes tended to show up like bright orbs in nightvision, but the vampire’s eyes didn’t show up at all. There were just pockets of black in the white-green face. The vampire was talking constantly in a low, even voice. It was probably part of how he controlled the others.

The vampire and the group continued up the mountain. Stahl and Montgomery followed cautiously. He still wasn’t sure how he was going to free the prisoners. Heck, he wasn’t even sure they could be freed. Mind control was new territory for Zombie Strike, much less the mechanics of it. All Stahl could do right now was follow the group and hope for an opening. It was maddening, but that was part of the job. He learned that lesson the first time he watched a hostage die in a place not too far from this forest. The air started to warm noticeably. Musky scents floated through the air like invisible clouds. Stahl instinctively slowed down. He was picking up something from the six vampires guarding the prisoners. They weren’t as tense, and their gait opened up. Stahl stopped behind one of the thicker trees. Montgomery almost ran into him when he didn’t move. Instead she just slid past him and took up a position behind another tree five meters away. The girl was good.

Montgomery flashed the question hand sign. Okay, she needed work on her patience. He hand-signed back for her to wait. Stahl could make out her grimace as she took up her position. Stahl ignored her expression. He scanned the trees in front of him. They looked like a big clump of dark with a few shadows of green from the tiny bits of starlight. Did vampires act like humans, or was that just normal for them?

There was a sudden glint from a tree to Stahl’s eleven o’clock. The branches rustled. Something big just landed there. A sentry. They just wandered into the home of the vampires. Stahl waited patiently, intently watching the tree. He couldn’t see the vampire. The creature was hidden in the blackness of his nightvision. There were other ways to figure out where it was. The vampire couldn’t hide from the entire physical world. One of the branches was much lower. Stahl guessed the vampire was about halfway out. It looked like a good vantage point. Minutes stretched out endlessly as Stahl watched the tree. It always amazed Stahl that something could be exciting and boring at the same time. Finally, the tree shook again as the sentry continued his rounds. This time, Stahl did smile.

Montgomery followed as Stahl hustled towards the tree the vampire just vacated. Stahl didn’t know how many vampires were on guard duty, but he wanted to be inside their line before the next sentry came round. After about a hundred meters, the trees became sparse. Stahl could see where the vampires cleared out the forest. Jagged stumps littered the clearing. Carcasses of dead animals were strewn carelessly about. Stahl found a standing tree next to one of the carcasses. The putrid smell turned his stomach, but it should cover his own scent. Montgomery followed his lead, and dragged what had once been a panther next to her position. He couldn’t see the wolf.

About a dozen vampires were clustered in the center of the clearing. The prisoners were lined up in the center facing away Stahl and Montgomery. Pretty-Boy looked like he was talking to someone on the other side of the prisoners. Someone short and powerful from the way Pretty-Boy was bending over with his head pointed directly at the ground respectfully.

"These were the ones sent after us?" asked a beautiful soprano voice from the other side of the prisoners. Stahl almost dropped his weapon at the sound. The amulet burned under his chest plate, snapping him out of his stupor. Montgomery shot him a sidelong glance.

"They look different from the last time we came to this world," the voice said, "Why aren’t any of them wearing crosses? Aren’t they supposed to be knights?"

"I don’t think so," Pretty-Boy said, his voice finally loud enough for Stahl to hear. "These ones here are tainted." He pointed at the Truth soldiers and sorcerers.

"Tainted, how?"

"I don’t know. Something is protecting them. Something we haven’t dealt with before," Pretty-Boy answered. "The others are just common thugs with very good weapons." He waved dismissively at the Zombie Strike team.

"No paladins or clerics of this world’s god?" the voice asked surprised.

"Not amongst this group. Just the one cleric in the village when we came in this world." Pretty-Boy quickly stepped to the side as a small form emerged from behind the prisoners. She was barely five feet tall with a slight, but definitely feminine, form and cascades of black hair. As she turned, Stahl could see her doll-like face with the black abysses where the eyes should have been. An evil smile darted across her lips. She gently laid a hand on Pretty-Boy’s forearm, and then brought the tall vampire to his knees with a powerful jerk.

"Then where is the little bauble causing all of the commotion?" she asked pleasantly. The smile returned as Pretty-Boy gasped in pain, unable to answer. Stahl swallowed. The little form’s head snapped up. Her face locked onto Stahl’s.

"Oh never mind, I found it."

Zombie Strike Part 7 Chapter 73

Monday Fiction – Zombie Strike – Part 7 – Chapter 71

Fifteen miles north of Redencion, Panama, 3 February 2011, 1800 hours local: Countdown: 10 months, 28 days

Eric Stahl looked up at the sky. Daylight was vanishing. His team had less than thirty minutes before the sun dropped below the horizon. The Zombie Strike shooters and the Truth soldiers were trained and equipped to fight in the dark. The two sorcerers, on the other hand, would be lucky not to trip over the few branches and debris littering the forest floor. It was hard enough already to keep those two’s noise down to a dull roar compared to the rest of the team. Then there were the vampires.

The team was following the small copper amulet Father Rodriguez gave Stahl. Or at least, they were following it the best they could. The amulet didn’t actually point out the vampires, but gave odd pulses. It was kind of like playing hot and cold with a kindergartener, but with lethal consequences. The amulet kept pointing them up the mountains, but every time the team seemed to get close, the vampires retreated. Tredegar, the FBI special agent assigned as liaison to Zombie Strike, suspected the vampires were evading the team until the vampires were fully evolved into the creatures of legend. Stahl didn’t know what he was going to do if that happened. Zombie Strike didn’t normally pack silver bullets, holy water, or wooden stakes.

"I absolutely despise when an enemy refuses to go along with a decent plan," Evans said quietly as he walked over to Stahl. The lead soldier for the Truth was acting as Stahl’s second-in-command for this mission. Much as Stahl hated to admit it, he kind of liked the man. Evans was formerly of the French Foreign Legion before he’d joined the Truth. That experience showed in his steadiness under fire and tactical deviousness.

"It probably wouldn’t have worked anyway," Stahl said, looking at the map on his PDA. "I wish we could just fort up and call in airstrikes." Evans nodded in wry agreement. "Could your sorcerers do anything to help?"

"They say no," Evans answered, "Actually they say a bunch of gibberish I don’t understand, but it boils down to no." Stahl grimaced. Since the team lost Jane, the last two sorcerers balked at any plan that put them in possible danger. Stahl was tempted to use the two as bait, but Evans and his soldiers were sworn to protect them. Stahl didn’t want to kill Evans just yet.

"Chief, can you do me a favor?" Montgomery asked as she strode up to the pair. "Can you put that amulet away if you’re not using it?

"Why?" Stahl asked.

"Because it screams like a dog whistle on steroids to Billy," Montgomery said, planting her hands on her hips. The girl was hyper protective of the spirit wolf pup.

"He can hear it?" Evans asked, his voice rising slightly.

"Yeah," Montgomery answered, taking a step back from the Truth soldier.

"Not a problem, Jess," Stahl said, tucking the amulet under his armor. The girl nodded and went back to the others.

"That might just explain it," Evans murmured.

"What?" Stahl asked.

"We’ve been thinking that the vampires are running from us until they’re strong enough to just kill us. What if they were being driven off by that amulet of yours?"

"That doesn’t make any sense," Stahl said dismissively, "Father Rodriguez said that if I got too close, the amulet would draw them to us."

"You also thought it wasn’t working right because it was in your possession instead of a true believer’s," Evans said, "Imagine if this was another effect of you holding the amulet." Stahl nodded his head slowly as realization dawned.

"Let’s test your little theory," Stahl said, and then explained his plan. They waited until nightfall. Stahl led the team out along a game trail. The lack of a moon in the sky kept them hidden in shadows, but it also halved their nightvision’s performance. Stahl was tempted to switch to straight infra-red, but it occurred to him that vampires might be able to see infra-red lights. Not a good idea. The forest was quiet. Stahl couldn’t hear any of the birds, insects, or other of the myriad of sounds he expected. Sudden movement caught his eye. He didn’t try to twist towards the shape. Stahl focused down the game trail. The shiny face glowed green in the nightvision. Its eerily human face smiled as it looked directly at Stahl.

Stahl flipped on his weapon light. The beam of intense white light bathed the creature. It shrieked in pain and clasped its face with its hands. Stahl opened fire. Bullets riddled his target as it tried to flee. More gunfire erupted as his team engaged the other vampires. Montgomery and Billy came up next to Stahl. Montgomery and Stahl slowly advanced on their vampire, pouring fire into it. Round after round slammed into its body. Finally, the creature shrieked and burst into flames. Stahl turned to help the rest of the team. Montgomery grabbed Stahl and dragged him into the forest.

"What are you doing girl?" demanded Stahl.

"Look," she answered pointing towards the others. The team wasn’t fighting. In the center of the team stood a man maybe six and a half feet tall. The rest of the team stood transfixed as the man spoke. Stahl couldn’t hear the words, but there was something about the tone that gave him a nasty headache. The tall man pointed down the game trail. The rest of the team lined up in a single file and rhythmically walked past Stahl, Montgomery, and Billy. The tall man followed the team. As he past, a shiver ran down Stahl’s back.

"Now what do we do?" Montgomery asked once everyone was out of sight.

"Not sure, but I’m going to kill whoever that was," Stahl answered.

Zombie Strike Part 7 Chapter 72

Monday Fiction – Zombie Strike – Part 7 – Chapter 70

Ten miles north of Redencion, Panama, 3 February 2011, 1600 hours local: Countdown: 10 months, 28 days

Eric Stahl froze as he felt the vampire’s eyes on him. He couldn’t see the creature in the dense mountain forest. The creatures were already evolved enough to be scary effective predators in this environment. His little hodge-podge of a team was already down a sorcerer and a Truth soldier learning that particular lesson. Stahl patiently looked around with the bare minimum of movement. At least one of the monsters, probably more like two. They showed a habit of hunting in pairs or teams of four. Time to put Tredegar’s hypothesis to the test.

"Sandoval, I want you to run past me. As soon as you see movement, hit the dirt," Stahl whispered to the man a few yards behind him. The nice thing about having religious zealots on the team was you didn’t have to do a lot of convincing for them to do suicidal things. All in the service of their god. And people wondered why Stahl had been an atheist. Sandoval sprinted from his position. The kid would’ve made a pretty decent track athlete. Two dark blurs launched out of the trees. Stahl pointed more than aimed his carbine at one of the blurs and squeezed the trigger. The relative quiet of the forest was shattered as nearly a dozen guns fired at the targets. The two blurs materialized on the ground. The creatures were seven feet tall and covered with matty, brown fur. They were slim with a wiry build. Their faces had a passing resemblance to human, if you could get past the bloated features, red eyes, and large fangs protruding from an almost comical overbite. The two creatures were bleeding black fluid from dozens of holes on their pelts. They looked surprised that humans managed to hit them.

"Jane, now would be a good time," Stahl said as he quickly replaced the spent magazine in his M4. These things were getting tougher by the hour. The sorceress stepped to the side. With intricate hand movements and words in a long-dead language, a brilliant white bolt of lightning lanced out and struck the left monster. Its shriek of pain was drowned out by the booming thunderclap. The other monster was moving. Stahl had barely a moment before the long arm slammed him with the force of a small car. Stahl was thrown several yards before crashing into a tree. He felt his breath whoosh out of him as he collapsed to the ground.

The Steve was already crouched next to him with McLintock covering the pair. Evans, the leader of the Truth’s soldiers, was issuing orders to the shooters. The light pops of M4’s and F2000’s were mixed with the louder booms of the cowboy’s big lever action. Stahl watched as the monster leapt at the Slim. The tall Brit blocked a blow with his rifle, but the force was enough to knock Slim off of his feet. The monster went after Montgomery next. Stahl knew the fight was over in that instant. As soon as the monster inched towards Montgomery, a brilliant streak of white erupted from next to her. Stahl hadn’t believed that the dog was actually a physical manifestation of the Native American totem of Wolf. That changed once he saw the wolf glow a brilliant white and tear apart a monster with all the effort of a puppy with a newspaper. The spirit wolf and the monster blurred as their fight moved faster than the human eye could track. Screams and howls filled the area and then silence. Billy stood atop the torn carcass of the monster, his muzzle and front claws covered in black ichor. Billy leapt off the monster’s corpse an instant before it was consumed in a brilliant flash of flame and heat. The only traces of the two monsters were the two blackened scorch marks on the ground.

"You should be fine once the Happy Juice hits," The Steve said, looking down at his PDA. "You were lucky Chief. No broken ribs or a concussion." Stahl nodded absently as he let The Steve and McLintock help him off the ground.

"Tredegar, about how much time do we have before more come to investigate this?" Stahl asked the FBI agent.

"Maybe ten minutes," Tredegar answered.

"Ambush them like last time?" Evans asked. Stahl nodded. Three teams spread out along a ninety degree arc. Each team had a soldier and a sorcerer along with three from the Zombie Strike team. Stahl’s team consisted of the sorceress Jane, Sandoval, Montgomery, and Billy. They were at the center of the arc. It was their job to initiate the ambush. They would also probably take the brunt of any counter attack. Stahl crouched behind a thick conifer tree. He kept his M4 pointed in the most likely direction the other vampires of this hunting pack would approach. Sandoval crouched next to him. The young Truth merc wasn’t much older than Montgomery, maybe nineteen or twenty. He was solid, and pretty handy with that F2000. He kept the Belgian bullpup pointed in roughly the same area as Stahl’s carbine. A tree over to Stahl’s right, Montgomery lay prone with her suppressed SCAR on a bipod. Billy was lying down between her legs, ready to pounce on the first thing that came near her. Behind the three shooters, Jane was hidden. The three sorcerers were easily the most powerful offensive weapons on the team, but also the slowest to employ. The team learned that lesson when a vampire ripped the sorcerer Wallace apart in their first encounter after leaving the small village. That battle left Stahl in charge of the team. His first order was for the sorcerers to stay back until the shooters slowed the monsters down with weapons fire.

Two shapes emerged from the trees. Stahl wished in vain that the sorcerers could have raised some of those nifty shields. No joy as he’d learned. Those required an artifact, as the Truth called them. An object imbued with a deity’s power at some point. The Truth only brought two artifacts with them to Panama. One had been destroyed in the brief firefight between the Truth and Zombie Strike. The other was in Giant’s possession, and he was still back in Redencion with Cortez in accordance with the truce. Stahl pushed those thoughts away as he focused on the two vampires. They paused just at the edge of the ambush, maybe fifty yards from Stahl’s tree. Their heads jerked around, searching for something. The caution was something new. In the past battles, the vampires charged right to where their comrades fell. What new capability were the monsters evolving? Better to attack now before they sniffed out the ambush.

Billy leapt from Montgomery’s position and charged towards Jane. Montgomery rolled and opened fire as two more of the vampires appeared from behind. She placed a dozen bullets into the lead vampire. It ignored the holes the sharpshooter was drilling into it and sped down on her. Then, the lead vampire collided with Billy. That was that, as they say. Jane screamed in terror as the other monster attacked her. The scream was cut off abruptly. The sorceress’s body slumped to the ground. Stahl twisted and fired his M4 at the monster. It looked shocked as three streams of gunfire struck it. Surprise could work both ways. Then Jane’s death knell hit.

A bolt of black-purple light erupted from the ground and incinerated the vampire. When one of Xipe Totec’s sorcerers died at an enemy’s hands, their god called them back to him violently. In some ways, it was the ultimate booby-trap. Jane’s soul streaked up, and then swept through the other two vampires. They were immediately incinerated. Her final work done, Jane’s soul shot up into the sky and vanished. Stahl rose from his crouch and walked over to where Jane died. Just like Wallace, there was no body. Just some ash. Evans cursed as he walked up next to Stahl. From what Stahl gathered, the soldiers were supposed to guard the sorcerers. Now they’d lost two of them in less than four hours.

"Tanesh, will we have the same protection as we did when Wallace bought it?" Stahl asked one of the remaining sorcerers. The sorcerer nodded in stunned silence. "Okay, that gives us maybe a half-hour to rest and reload. McLintock, you and Sandoval are on ammo detail. Try and spread out what we’ve got left. The rest of you check your gear and get some food and water. Evans, you’re with me." The two men walked off to the side of the group.

"With these four, there’s maybe another thirty or so vampires left," Stahl said quietly.

"At the cost of three dead, everyone else walking wounded, and probably about half of our ammo shot up," Evans said, "At least Sport’s got all of his grenades left. I’ve got a feeling that may be our ace in the hole."

"Not Tanesh and Harold?" Stahl asked, surprised.

"Oh, those two could rain down torment and death on the Little Death. If they have enough time to call for the Flayed One’s blessings. All Sport has to do is squeeze the trigger to send down all sorts of nasty things." Stahl nodded in agreement. He reached under his armor and pulled out the little amulet Father Rodriguez gave him. He held it out at arms’ length, trying to discern what the magic item was telling him.

"I think the next pack is that way," Stahl said pointing north.

"You’d think that amulet would be more definitive," Evans mused.

"I think it works better if a believer is using it," Stahl conceded, "I don’t know why the priest insisted I was the one who needed to carry it."

"You’re not a Christian?" Evans asked in surprise

"Nope. I was an atheist until I started up with the Army’s anti-zombie task force," Stahl answered, "Kind of hard to keep being one when confronted with deific power being thrown about all the time. Extraordinary evidence and all that. God and me still aren’t on speaking terms though. And don’t think about trying to convert me to your cult either."

"I’d love to you, but I know you too well. I’m not going to insult you by trying. I’m still hopeful you’ll see the Truth and join us though." Evans said. Stahl gave the soldier a sidelong glance. Evans was sincere. Sometimes there were honorable enemies.

"Well, we aren’t going to be able to ambush them again," Evan said, breaking the silence between the two men. "They sniffed us out and counter ambushed us."

"We made the mistake of trying to pull the same trick twice," Stahl said. "We’re going to have to assume each vampire knows how we killed all of the others, and figured out to counter the tactics we’ve used so far. We’ve got to outpace their learning if we’re going to kill them all and survive."

"Makes sense," Evans agreed. He paused for a moment, thinking. "I’ve got an idea." A predatory grin spread across Stahl’s face as the soldier laid out his plan.

Zombie Strike Part 7 Chapter 71

Monday Fiction – Zombie Strike – Part 7 – Chapter 69

The village of Redencion, Panama, 3 February 2011, 1210 hours local: Countdown: 10 months, 28 days

Eric Stahl stood on the small church’s steps and looked across the plaza. Standing in loose fitting black fatigues was Giant. The leader of the Truth held his infamous whip in his gloved right hand. The whip twitched like a downed power line. The Zombie Strike files were thin on the man, if you could call a seven-foot humanoid who wielded dark powers and could survive whatever destroyed the heart of Mexico City, a man. One thing Stahl couldn’t deny, Giant had presence. Even from a hundred feet away, Stahl could feel the pulsing of energy coming from Giant. It was all Stahl could do to see past Giant to measure the other Truthers he’d brought along.

There were ten of them. Two were definitely minions. They wore the almost standard ninja costume of a tight fitting black jumpsuit with black masks. The taller one was caressing a gold statue of what looked like a Greek hoplite about the size of an Academy Award Oscar. Four others were in jeans with brightly colored capes and feathered headdresses. From what Stahl remembered, the costumes looked suspiciously like traditional Aztec get-ups for their holy men. That made those four sorcerers. The last four looked like mercenaries. They were decked out in jungle cammies with expensive-looking gear, including Belgian-made F2000’s. The mercs had camo-painted faces and floppy hats. Stahl swore under his breath. The presence of the mercs meant the Truth was getting smart.

"Hello Mateo. It’s so nice to see you again," Giant oozed sarcastically. His voice was deep but artificial.

"One of these days Mikhail, I’m going to find something that kills you," Cortez said, using the only other name known for Giant. If the Truth’s leader was surprised by Cortez using the name, he didn’t show it.

"What is Zombie Strike doing here?" Giant asked, ignoring Cortez’s threat. "I was expecting Jesuit monks."

"Someone thought he saw a Sasquatch and asked us to kill it. Oh, look. It was you." Cortez said, bringing up his carbine. The rest of Zombie Strike followed their leader, each drawing a bead on one of the Truth. Stahl placed the holographic reticle of his M4 on the merc leader. Giant and his followers ignored the weapons aimed at them.

"Was that humor?" Giant asked, "I can never tell with you Americans." Stahl traded questioning glances with the cowboy, Collins. Giant sounded like he was from the Midwest. If Giant wasn’t an American, where exactly had he come from? Tredegar looked like he was going to burst with questions. Give the FBI agent a crumb, and he wanted the whole cake. Sometimes his curiosity got the better of him. McLintock kept Tredegar stable on the line.

"You will leave now," Father Rodriguez commanded, striding into the plaza. "You have completed the deed Heavenly Father compelled you to finish. Your role is completed."

"Compelled me?" Giant bellowed indignantly, "Your God has no control over those sworn to Xipe Totec. It was the Flayed One’s own power that sealed the tear. He has told us how to stop the Little Death!" Giant paused in his rant. He looked over the Zombie Strike team.

"So that’s why you’re here, Mateo. This priest brought you in to stop the Little Death instead of the Jesuits. Priest, your resourcefulness is unexpected." Giant’s eyes pulsed with purple energy as he glared at the priest. Cortez fired a single round at Giant. Brilliant purple sparks crackled as the bullet stopped a few inches from Giant’s head. The Truth’s leader tore his eyes from the priest to look at Cortez.

"Giant, I may not be able to kill you, but I can hurt you pretty bad," Cortez said in a neutral, controlled voice. The team tensed as it recognized their leader’s tone. Cortez’s rage was up, and bad stuff was going to happen. Giant cocked his head, as if seeing Cortez in a new light.

"Mateo, please, go home," Giant said sincerely, "It is not time for you to face the Death, even the Little Death. If you go out now, you will die. If you die, so does the world. I can’t kill you, but I can hurt you." Giant’s eyes danced with amusement as he threw Cortez’s words back at him.

"Why don’t I believe you?" Cortez asked.

"Mateo, I’ve seen the prophecies. They are quite specific. Even more than those your God handed down in Revelations. Your role in all of this has already been determined. They also warn against you fighting the Death before it is time."

"I’ve already fought against the vampires, Mikhail," Cortez said, spitting out Giant’s name, "My team’s killed several of them."

"What? How did you do that?" one of the sorcerers blurted out.

"Amazing what can be accomplished with the judicious application of firepower," Stahl said, keeping his weapon trained on the merc leader.

"Mateo, did you kill any of the vampires yourself?" Giant asked. The big man stared at Cortez for a moment and then shook his head. "Thank the Flayed One, no. Your aura is clean. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to raise a small force to deal with the Little Death." Giant turned and started to walk away from the plaza.

"I will not let you defile the bodies of my flock!" the priest screamed. The tiny man started to charge, but Mountain grabbed him. The medic forced the priest to the ground as Sport fired all five grenade rounds out of his XM25. The plaza rocked with thunderous sound as the grenades exploded right behind Giant. These weren’t the normal fragmentation grenades. These were designed to generate incredible walls of pressure and force. The Truth’s energy shields were great for stopping bullets, fragments, and such. They weren’t so good at stopping energy transfer. The shock wave of the five grenades hit the shield and passed through with only a small loss of energy. Giant was thrown off his feet and slammed into the bank building. The minion with the statue held it like a protective ward. The gold statue glowed as the shock wave flowed around them and knocked down the mercs and sorcerers instead.

Collins brought up his lever-action and racked off two rounds. The first round hit center upper mass on the second minion. The minion jerked as the round bisected his spinal cord and fell to the ground. The second round tore the first minion’s right shoulder apart. The .500 S&W round shattered the ball socket and shredded the flesh and muscle to little more than tatters. For a brief moment everyone stopped and stared at the two minions.

The Zombie Strike team recovered first and opened fire. Stahl fired off a short burst at one of the mercs. The man rolled just in time for the three rounds to pass over him. Another merc returned fire, forcing Stahl to dive for cover. Not that there was a whole bunch in the town plaza. Stahl raced behind the MRAP. Bullets sparked and clanged off the big armored truck. Stahl heard the distinctive booms of the cowboy’s lever action and the crackle of lighter small arms. Stahl leaned out from behind cover and fired a long burst at a merc in a doorway. The man ducked back into the building as the bullets shredded the wood around him. Stahl cursed and took a deep breath. He was a better shot than that. Time to calm down and focus on the killing.

"STOP!" The voice was louder than an artillery shell going off. Stahl let go of his weapon as his head rang with sound. As his eyes cleared, Stahl saw one of the sorcerers standing in the middle of the plaza with his hands outstretched. "You imbeciles, we are wasting time!"

"Get out of the way Wallace!" Giant said angrily. His whip was flicking back and forth angrily as he stormed towards Zombie Strike.

"Mikhail, stop. We can’t waste the time to fight these people. Zombie Strike’s appearance changes things." Giant stopped, but his whip continued its angry dance. Wallace turned to Zombie Strike. "I’m offering truce. We need to put our fight aside and join forces, before the Little Death becomes too powerful."

Zombie Strike Part 7 Chapter 70

Monday Fiction – Zombie Strike – Part 7 – Chapter 68

The village of Redencion, Panama, 3 February 2011, 1120 hours local : Countdown: 10 months, 28 days

Former Chief Warrant Officer Eric Stahl followed Father Rodriguez into the church. He felt a wash of unfamiliar energy as he crossed the threshold. For a moment, Stahl felt warm, cold, blissful, and alone all at once. It was perhaps the weirdest sensation he’d ever encountered. This, after over a year fighting the undead and their minion masters. The chief looked back at the others as they walked through the threshold. Cortez, McLintock, the Brits, and the cowboy, Collins passed through without any sign of discomfort. Tredegar looked queasy, but stepped through without an issue. The Steve looked as if someone hit him with a live wire. He actually flinched as he stepped into the church. The strangest one was the girl, Montgomery and her pet dog. They just stood at the threshold.

"Come on Jess," Cortez said.

"Um, I can’t. Neither can Billy," Montgomery said, motioning to the dog. Father Rodriguez turned around in surprise at the comment. The tiny priest studied the girl for a moment and then shook his head.

"I am sorry, Little Wolf," the priest said. Stahl could hear the capital letters as he addressed Montgomery. "I wasn’t very specific when I called down the blessing on the church. I was trying to protect my flock, and I only asked for believers to be allowed in."

"I believe in God," Montgomery protested.

"Yes, but your loyalty is to Wolf, and you are bonded to one of his sons. That takes precedence," the priest explained. "I will try to modify the blessing on the church, but it may take some time." Father Rodriguez sounded contrite over the incident.

"Don’t worry about it," Montgomery said, "Billy and I will keep watch outside." Before anyone could stop her, Montgomery and Billy trotted back out into the town’s plaza.

"Mountain, go with them," Stahl ordered. He didn’t want the girl out there on her own. Granted, that dog of hers was scary, but the chief would feel better with one of the other shooters out there.

"The Steve, Chief," Mountain corrected. He cocked his head suspiciously at the door way before bulling his way through. The medic let out a yip as he went through the invisible barrier. The boy may not be right in the head, but he was solid enough. Plus, it kept the medic from making another stupid comment to the priest.

"Father, Zombie Strike killed eight of the vampires so far," Tredegar said, "That leaves another fifty-eight in this world. According to the papers you sent, we need to move quickly to kill them before they grow too powerful." The priest nodded absently as he led them out of the narthex. The sanctuary was crammed with people. The pews were pushed to the sides so that they could spread blankets on the stone floor. Several of the people rushed up to Father Rodriguez as he led the team across the sanctuary. He blessed them in Spanish and sent them back to their families. The chief felt the villagers’ suspicious eyes on them as they walked. It was obvious they didn’t trust heavily armed men, especially those walking on sacred ground. Behind the sanctuary was Father Rodriguez’s quarters. It was a plain affair, true to the spirit of Jesuit order. The team crammed into the small space as the priest sat on his small cot.

"How did you seal the tear?" Stahl asked after everyone was situated.

"I didn’t. Others did," Father Rodriguez answered cryptically.

"Who?" Stahl pressed.

"The ones chosen by God to complete that task," Father Rodriguez said, as if that explained everything. "You have been chosen to remove the host remaining on this Earth."

"Chief, stand down," Cortez ordered. Stahl traded looks with his team leader. The chief nodded slightly. He didn’t like it, but orders were like that sometimes. He’d talk it out with Cortez later. "You were saying Father?"

"Thank you, my son. The ones you killed were the weakest of the host. The others fed on some of my flock before I could banish them. Unfortunately, I could not destroy them. They have their link to this Earth, and that is all they need. That, as they say, is the bad news. The good news is that this host is supposed to be the eyes for the rest of them. Spies, if you will."

"Why does the Truth need vampire spies?" asked McLintock, "They have plenty of human ones." Father Rodriguez looked at the big man quizzically.

"No, the host holds no loyalty to Xipe Totec or the Flayed One’s chosen acolytes," Father Rodriguez answered.

"What?" Cortez asked, surprised, "Is this something from Satan then?"

"No, Lucifer follows the plan set out by God," Father Rodriguez said, "This host is beyond the realm of God or man." A cold, unsettled feeling ran down Stahl’s spine. As he looked at the faces of his teammates, Stahl could see they were just as uneasy about the priest’s words.

"So how do we stop them?" asked Tredegar. "Your notes aren’t very clear on that matter."

"Until they change, you can kill them by inflicting many deadly wounds on them. Their corporeal bodies cannot take the stress. Holy power will also cause their Earthly bodies to immolate and destroy themselves."

"If holy power can kill them, why didn’t you bag any?" Collins asked. It wasn’t accusatory, just a simple question.

"I had a choice. Kill a few of the host or protect my flock," Father Rodriguez answered. The cowboy nodded in appreciation.

"Okay, so we have to do this the hard way," Cortez said. "Not the first time. Father, do you know where the vampires are?"

"I can do better than that," the priest said, digging into his jacket. He withdrew a tarnished locket wrapped with a silver chain. "Let this swing on its chain, and it will lead it to you to the host. When you get close, you must wrap the amulet and hide it away. If you don’t the host will know you are close as well." Father Rodriguez handed the amulet to Cortez. The team leader reverently tucked the amulet into a pocket.

"Boss, you need to get out here," Mountain said, over the radio, breaking the solemn atmosphere. Instinctively, the team gripped their weapons.

"What is it?" Cortez demanded.

"Giant’s out here, and he brought along some friends."

Zombie Strike Part 7 Chapter 69

Monday Fiction – Zombie Strike – Part 7 – Chapter 67

Ten miles south of the village of Redencion, Panama, 3 February 2011, 1000 hours local : Countdown: 10 months, 28 days

Former Chief Warrant Officer Eric Stahl pointed his M4 at the biggest of the five creatures as they strode out of the tree line and onto the dirt road. They all walked with a precise steady nature. It reminded Stahl of tigers stalking their prey. The primitive part of his brain was screaming for him to run and flee. Stahl suspected the moment he tried, these creatures would pounce.

"How are they walking in sunlight?" Quentin McLintock asked, transfixed by the creatures. "All of the lore surrounding the vampire says direct sunlight will kill them."

"Let’s try and figure that after we kill them," Stahl said, "Cortez, we could use a hand up here." Mateo Cortez, the Zombie Strike field team leader, was busy helping the team members in the truck flipped by the first vampire. Cortez’s head popped out from behind the vehicle. A string of low curses followed. Cortez was almost as good at coming up with new swear words as a SEAL chief petty Stahl worked with once.

"Jess, see what you can do," ordered Cortez, "Keep them busy for a minute." Montgomery hopped on top of the overturned MRAP. Her SCAR was already up as she drew a bead on the big vampire. Three against five were not good odds. Stahl hoped Cortez knew what he was doing.

"Everyone, focus on the big one," Stahl ordered, "Then roll to the one to the left." A radio click meant Montgomery was ready. McLintock just nodded. The suppressed SCAR gave its distinctive cough as Montgomery placed a 7.62 mm NATO round dead center in the vampire’s head. The vampire’s head snapped back from the impact. The sudden jerk caught the creature off-guard and it tried to keep from falling over. Stahl opened up with his M4.

An M4 would have burned through a standard 30-round mag in a few seconds. Stahl quit using those after nearly running out of ammo on Corsica. He was using a new quad-stack 60-round magazine. The M4 chattered for nearly ten seconds as he dumped every round into the vampire’s torso. The rounds Zombie Strike were designed to cause maximum damage by shredding as much tissue as it could. Stahl was tearing huge chunks out of the creature as he kept the burst stitching across the vampire’s torso. As soon as the M4 went dry, Stahl dropped the magazine and slapped in a fresh one. The vampire took two steps towards Stahl. Then, it burst into a flash of intense heat and flame. The four remaining vampires paused.

"Chief, get down!" Cortez yelled. Stahl dropped into the dirt. Someone fired one of the team’s XM25’s. The rapid thumps were distinctive. Less than a second later, Stahl felt more than heard the string of explosions. He felt a couple of fragments whistle past him. That must have been Sport. That Brit found his calling with the grenade launcher. It was kind of scary how close he could drop those airburst grenades without killing friendlies. Stahl was on his feet as soon as the explosions dimmed to echoes. The other four vampires were reduced to scorch marks on the dirt road.

"Chief, you two alright?" Cortez asked. Stahl looked over at McLintock. The big man was already poking at the scorch marks. Crazy eggheads. Almost as if to prove the point, Tredegar trotted past the chief to join McLintock.

"Yeah, we’re good to go," Stahl answered. "What about the truck?"

"Well, it works, but we can’t flip it back over." Stahl looked over the wreck. The MRAP was lying on its back about ten yards off the dirt road. "Even if we could, we don’t have anyone to drive it."

"What about the Panamanians?" Stahl asked.

"What Panamanians?" Cortez asked in response, "They all booked when they caught sight of the vampires. I’m going to have Jim drive. I want to get up to the village quickly." Stahl nodded in agreement. The good news was none of the team members riding in the flipped vehicle had been injured. The team spent about fifteen minutes dragging gear to the other vehicle. Well, all except Tredegar and McLintock. Those two were examining the documents they’d got from the priest. They still hadn’t come up with a good intel by the time the team was ready to move out.

Stahl stayed on the heavy machine gun as Jim Colllins carefully drove the truck up the mountain trail. The chief manned the fifty-cal on the basis he had the most time with the weapon. The truth was, until he got some definitive answers on the vampires, he wanted the biggest gun he could find to kill them with. After a few miles, the forest was cleared for farmland. Stahl counted about six or so small spreads. It looked like little more than subsistence farming. At least it wasn’t coca. Stahl hated dealing with narcos.

Another few miles, and the team drove into the outskirts of Redencion. Most of the houses were solidly built, if somewhat primitive. The villagers may not have much, but they knew how to use what was available. These weren’t shanty-town people. Assuming any were still alive. The streets were deserted. There were no sounds or signs of life as the MRAP rolled down the main road. There weren’t even any animals. Stahl looked towards the town’s center. For a moment, he could have sworn there was a spotlight on the church. It just seemed to glimmer.

Collins gunned the MRAP into town center. Stahl saw two more creatures slamming themselves against the doors of the church. Collins saw them as well and swung the MRAP alongside the church. Stahl had a clear line on the vampires without shooting into the church. The two creatures were focused so intently on the church they ignored the big metal vehicle and the gun atop it. With a grin, Stahl pressed the big machine gun’s firing paddle. The big fifty caliber bullets easily shredded the vampires. After a few seconds, the vampires finally screeched and burst into a flash of flame.

The team was out of the vehicle and taking up positions around the church before Stahl finished firing on the two vampires. They braced as they waited for the next onslaught of creatures. The doors of the church swung open. Every weapon was trained on the darkened opening. Out stepped what looked like a miniature version of a Catholic priest holding a cross in one hand and a bottle of clear liquid in the other. The priest gave the Zombie Strike team an appraising look.

"You took longer to get here than I expected," the priest said in unaccented English. The voice sounded old, but flat with no emotion. It unnerved Stahl.

"Sorry?" Cortez said, unsure if he should be apologizing or demanding one.

"My apologies," the priest said, "It was a comment, not a criticism. I am Father Rodriguez. Please come in. I’m sure you have many questions for me." The priest’s head turned towards Stahl. The man’s black eyes bored into Stahl. The former soldier felt ice shoot down his spine. Stahl had the distinct feeling the priest had been waiting for him to arrive in this village. The chief shook his head. That was just ridiculous.

"I appreciate the offer Father, but I think we need to make sure there aren’t any more of those vampires in the village first," Cortez said. The tiny priest waved his hands dismissively.

"Oh don’t worry. Those two you destroyed were the last two in the village. The rest are out in the jungle," Father Rodriguez said.

"And you know this how?" Stahl asked, suspiciously. Something about Father Rodriguez was ringing every warning bell in his mind.

"God told me," the priest answered, matter-of-factly, "Or more to the point, Metatron told me."

"The bad guy from Transformers?" The Steve asked.

"No, the archangel Metatron, the Voice of God," Cortez corrected, "Metatron does the speaking because the true voice of God would destroy the mind of a human."

"Cool, just like Cthulu!" the irrepressible medic replied. There was a long moment as the entire team just stared at The Steve in either shock or disbelief. The Steve ignored it all with his trademark brilliant smile.

"Please excuse The Steve. His mind to mouth filter isn’t always the best," Cortez said.

"Believe me Mateo Cortez, I know quite a bit about your team," Father Rodriguez said enigmatically. "I have been tasked by our father to answer many of your questions." Stahl could feel the undercurrent in the priest’s voice. His fight or flee instincts were screaming at him to run from this priest and the village. He couldn’t flee, so that left fight. The chief slid down the side of the MRAP and strode over to the priest.

"Perhaps you could answer the big questions. How many vampires escaped into our world, and how are we going to seal the crack between our worlds?" the chief asked, trying to keep his voice calm. The priest gave him a knowing smile.

"Those aren’t your big questions, Eric Stahl, but they are important to the team," Father Rodriguez said. "To answer your questions though, the crack, as you called it, has already been sealed, but not before sixty-six of the creatures escaped into our world."

Zombie Strike Part 7 Chapter 68

Monday Fiction – Zombie Strike – Part 7 – Chapter 66

Tocumen International Airport, Panama City, 3 February 2011, 0700 hours local; Countdown: 10 months, 28 days

Former US Army Chief Warrant Officer Eric Stahl walked down the ramp of the small cargo jet. He’d spent a few years in and out of Panama in his twenty years with the US Army. He liked the country and the people, and he was glad to be back. He just wished he’d come here on vacation instead of having to fight a bunch of monsters. Chief Stahl wasn’t quite sure what to make of the transmission from Adams and Tredegar.

The plane taxied into one of the smaller private hangars on the outskirts of Panama’s big international airport. Waiting for them was Adams, Tredegar, and a uniformed Panamanian officer. A colonel by the sigils on his epaulets. The three were waiting by a pair of big armored trucks that reminded Stahl of the MRAPs the Army was using. Adams rushed up to Mateo Cortez as the team departed the plane. The two were doing their little courtship ritual. Stahl didn’t like the idea of the team lead and their employer’s liaison doing this half-on/half-off dating dance, but he kept his tongue. The rest of the team seemed happy about the match. Stahl would wait and watch until it became a problem. Then he’d solve it. That was what he did.

Chief Stahl had fallen into the role once occupied by the now-deceased Collin DuBois. He was the professional mentor of the team lead. After a couple of months, Stahl decided he liked Cortez. The man knew how to handle himself and the team. As much as Stahl hated to admit, he’d seen a marked improvement in Cortez’s performance about the same time he and Adams had started up. Jess Montgomery waited a proper minute or two, and then slammed into Adams with an enthusiastic hug. That was a relationship Stahl approved of. Montgomery was decent with her SCAR rifle, but there was more to life than just killing the bad guys. She needed a good role model for life beyond the scope of her weapon. Adams was somewhere between a foster mother and a big sister for the girl.

Stahl motioned for Tredegar and the Panamanian officer over as the rest of the team unloaded their gear from the plane. Tredegar looked like a casting call for Ichabod Crane. Taller than average, gangly, and with a balding head that made his nose seem even longer. He was wearing a dark suit with a white dress shirt that was plastered to him. His normally pale face had the unhealthy red glow of too much tropical sun. The Panamanian officer was a contrast to Tredegar. The colonel was barely average height, but obviously enjoyed his food. A thick bushy black mustache seemed right on his round face.

"Colonel, I’m Eric Stahl, but you can call me Chief or Chief Stahl," Stahl said, introducing himself. "If you’ll tell me how you want us to load up, I can take care of it."

"SEAL?" the colonel guessed in moderately accented English.

"Hardly. Former Chief Warrant Officer with the Army. Used to do some Lurp-Work before I started killing zombies for a living," Stahl said.

"Oh good," the colonel answered, sounding relieved. "When I heard this outfit was led by a civilian who’d never spent a day—" Stahl held up a hand to cut the colonel off. The officer’s eyes flashed with indignation.

"Colonel, that man is one of the most experienced zombie hunters on the planet. He may not be military, or even former military, but the American military listens to him on matters of dealing with the undead. You may want to remember that when you talk to him."

"Talk to who?" Cortez asked, joining the group. The colonel shifted uncomfortably as an awkward silence fell over the small group. When no one said anything, Cortez turned to Stahl.

"Chief, we’re going to have to brief on the move. Put The Steve, Jim, the Brits, and the extra gear in the first truck. Everyone else on the other." Chief Stahl almost saluted out of habit. He turned and issued his own orders. In less than an hour, the two trucks were roaring down Panamanian highways towards the mountain village. It was a tight fit in the truck with all of the people, and the dog. Stahl brought up the document Tredegar transmitted to his PDA.

"These aren’t vampires like we know them," Tredegar began.

"They aren’t sparkly?" injected Cortez. Montgomery flushed at the backhand jibe. She liked Twilight, thank you very much.

"They aren’t even in human form. At least not yet," Tredegar said, plowing on before anyone else chimed in. "According to the intel from the priest, these creatures are from another time and place. I think that means from another dimension. In this world, they need human life force to survive. Usually through blood. The longer in this world, the more they can adapt and the more human-like they become."

"How does a priest in a mountain village have all of this?" Cortez asked.

"Not the first time the Jesuits have dealt with this," Tredegar answered.

"So how do we stop these vampires?" Stahl asked, "We didn’t bring along silver bullets or wooden stakes."

"Or those nifty UV bullets," Sport chimed in from the other truck.

"Would everyone please stop making movie references?" Tredegar said, annoyed. "Right now, they’re vulnerable. They haven’t had time to adapt to our world or develop any immunities. Right now, they’re big, nasty monsters that drink blood. Think of them as a variation of the monsters we fought back on Corsica." Stahl saw a shudder from the team members that had gone down into the Truth’s facility during that battle. "All of that changes in less than twenty-four hours. Then they get stronger, smarter, and harder to kill on an exponential level."

"Let’s not waste time then," Cortez said. "As soon as we reach the village, we fan out and look for survivors. Tredegar needs to see anyone who survived so we can try and piece together what happened and how many of these creatures we’re dealing with. If you find one of the monsters, do not engage it by yourself. Call for help. Any questions?"

"Yeah, The Steve wants to know how we’re going to close the hole these vampires came out of," The Steve said. Stahl reminded himself that under the crazy persona, former Staff Sergeant Mountain was a sharp operator. The man was still talked about among the Special Forces community.

"The papers reference some ritual the Jesuits did last time, but it’s pretty vague." The trucks jostled as they left the paved roads and started up the trail to the mountain village. Stahl hadn’t even learned the name of the place yet. He thumbed around on his PDA until he found a map of the village. Pretty standard layout. Church and the big merchants close to center with some houses and smaller stores as the village spread out towards the farms and the jungle. Probably no more than a few hundred people all told.

Stahl was torn from his PDA as the first truck was flipped into the air. It looked like an IED hit, but there wasn’t the deafening boom of an explosion. Combat reflexes took over. Stahl shoved a Panamanian soldier aside and jumped up into the turret to grab the Ma Deuce’s controls. As the first truck rolled into the tree line, Stahl saw the cause. The creature was maybe seven or eight feet tall. Its wire-thin body was covered in matty, brown fur. Stahl didn’t even pause to look at the thing’s face before he pressed down on the firing paddle between the machine gun’s handles. The familiar heavy buddha-buddha-buddha of the M2 machine gun filled the air. The heavy .50 BMG bullets tore gaping holes into the creature. Stahl heard its screams faintly over the sound of the machine gun. The creature took a step back, fighting to stay on its feet as bullet after bullet shredded its body. It lasted maybe ten seconds before Stahl nearly removed its lower half with the machine gun. The creature fell to the ground.

Stahl jumped up out of the truck and ran towards the creature with his M4 up. Next to him was Quentin McLintock, the big close-quarters specialist. As they neared the creature, it burst into flames. There was maybe a second of bright flames and intense heat. All that remained of the creature was a scorched outline in the dirt.

"Okay, that went pretty well," Stahl said to McLintock, "Let’s get back and help the others." McLintock put a meaty hand on Stahl’s shoulder. The big man wasn’t looking at the scorch mark. He was looking deep into the trees.

"Chief, he wasn’t alone," McLintock said. The morning air was filled with snarls as several more of the creatures stepped out of the tree line. Stahl gripped his weapon and prepared for the fight.

Zombie Strike Part 7 Chapter 67

Monday Fiction – Zombie Strike Part 7 – Chapter 65

Lisbon, Portugal, 1 February 2011, 1800 hours local: Countdown: 11 months

The man known to his followers as Castle was doing what most of the world was doing. He was watching as the last of the new GPS satellites was positioned in space. It was a bit over six months since the Truth’s mystics removed almost all of the satellites in orbit and brought them down on Mexico City. The general populace had been slapped in the face with their dependence on the artificial constellation that had floated in orbit. They demanded their leaders do everything to restore the needed satellites, regardless of cost. That demand provided the Truth with an opportunity for control that was now being realized.

Castle spent years cultivating his infiltrators. They were people in key positions in various sectors: political, social, cultural, and economic. For the last six months, these seemingly unrelated people had either stepped into roles or aggressively taken positions that gave the Truth enormous public influence. After all, it had been his infiltrators that forged a world-wide coalition and promised to rebuild networks and fight the economic depression that resulted from the loss of the satellites. With this last satellite, a large part of that promise returned. Now the Truth had their own secret satellite communications and observation network.

The satellite phone next to him buzzed. Castle picked up the now-working device and looked at who was calling him. He’d expected his infiltrator in the UN to ask to begin her operation. Instead, it was one of Alan’s sorcerers. Castle was going to be very annoyed if the sorcerer just called him to congratulate him on their success. He’d been very clear on that.

"Mr. Castle, we have a tear in Panama," the sorcerer informed him. Castle didn’t say anything for a moment as suppressed the urge to ask if the sorcerer was sure. They wouldn’t be calling him if they weren’t sure.

"Has it begun already?" Castle asked.

"From what we can see, it just looks like a small fracturing as our worlds come close to each other," the sorcerer answered. Castle relaxed. The Truth wasn’t quite ready to deal with the Great Death quite yet.

"Why didn’t we know that this might happen?" Castle asked.

"The prophecies were vague about this kind of thing," the sorcerer said, "To be frank, Mr. Castle, it isn’t like there’s a sentence in the prophecies telling us there’s going to be a tear and where it was going to be. The wording could have been interpreted in a number of ways. In light of this new development, Alan and several of the more experienced sorcerers are pouring over the prophecies to find out how often we should expect tears between our worlds." Castle bit back his annoyance and frustrated. The sorcerer was doing exactly what Castle demanded – telling him exactly what he needed to know, whether he liked it or not. Castle spent a great deal of time reassuring his people that he had no intention of shooting the messenger.

"I understand," Castle said, "Have a team of experienced sorcerers meet some Champions in Panama." Castle put down the sat phone and pressed the buzzer on the intercom at his elbow.

"Have Mikhail join me. I have a job for him."

###Plaza de Francia, Panama City, Panama, 2 Feb 2011 1700 hours local; Countdown: 10 months, 29 days

Robyn Adams fanned herself with a copy of La Prensa, the local newspaper. Even in February, it was hot and humid. She would need to take a long shower when she got back to the hotel. At least she had it easier than her companion. Edgar Tredegar was not only sweating in his light gray suit, but his normally white skin was now a bright pink from sunburn. He didn’t complain, but Tredegar was clearly uncomfortable.

"He’s late," Tredegar said quietly.

"He could be stuck in traffic," Robyn said, remembering the cab ride over from the hotel.

"Maybe," Tredegar said. "I don’t like it. We should have contacted the Bureau." Like Robyn, Tredegar was a liaison to Zombie Strike. She represented the interests of the team’s primary financial backer, the British insurance firm of MacKenzie and Winston. Tredegar, on the other hand, was an FBI special agent assigned to assist Zombie Strike on behalf of the American government.

"You agreed to keep them out of this. The priest wouldn’t have come otherwise," Robyn said. Before Edgar could say anything, a cab pulled up at the front of the plaza. A round Catholic priest lumbered out. He waved to the pair as soon as he saw them. Tredegar groaned at the lack of tradecraft. Robyn suppressed a laugh. What did he expect? They weren’t meeting some defecting Soviet spy, like in the FBI’s heyday. They walked down as the priest paid the cabbie.

"You are Father Timon?" Robyn asked as they met the priest.

"Si. You are from Zombie Strike?" the priest asked in heavily accented English. Robyn nodded. It was close enough to the truth. The priest let out a string of rapid fire Spanish. It sounded like a lot of thanking God.

"Father Timon, you said you needed Zombie Strike in Panama, but you didn’t say why," Tredegar said. "We need to know why before we can bring the team in."

"You are not zombie-killers?" the priest asked, his large dark eyes scrunched in confusion.

"Zombie Strike doesn’t have that many zombie killers," Robyn rushed to explain, "People like us are sent out to meet with the local contacts to see where the need is greatest." She didn’t add and to make sure that they weren’t wasting time with kooks.

"Of course. I see," the priest said, his head bobbing. "About two nights ago, I went to visit my friend, Father Rodriguez, up in the mountains. We were having dinner when it happened." The priest shuddered with remembered fear.

"What happened?" Tredegar asked.

"We heard screams. We went to see what happened," Father Timon said, "In the middle of the town, it was like the air had been ripped open. Unholy white light was pouring through. Then the first one came out. It was horrible. It grabbed little Martina and…" Father Timon put his face in his hands and sobbed. Robyn put her arms around the priest.

"Father Rodriguez pulled me back into the church. He shoved this packet of papers in my hand." The priest pulled out a weathered manila envelope. On the front was a series of odd symbols. Tredegar gasped as he saw the envelope.

"Do you know what this means?" Father Timon asked. "Father Rodriguez wouldn’t tell me. He just pushed me into my car and told me to come back here. He said I needed to call Zombie Strike and give them this." Tredegar snatched the envelope out of the priest’s hands. He tore the flap open and began searching through the papers.

"Don’t worry Father," Robyn said reassuringly, "We’ll take care of this." She escorted the priest back down the stairs. After the priest was in a cab back to his church, Robyn stormed back to where Tredegar was reading one of the papers from the envelope.

"What was that all about?" Robyn demanded.

"Call Mateo and tell him we need the team here," Tredegar said, examining the paper in his hands. "Make sure he tells Quentin that the Little Death has shown up here."

"What is the Little Death?" Robyn demanded as she keyed in the radio. With communications satellites out, long distance calls needed to be go through a relay of radio stations. Fortunately, M&W already had a network set up.

"From my best guess, vampires."

Zombie Strike Part 7 Chapter 66

Monday Fiction – Zombie Strike – Part 6 – Chapter 64 – Epilogue

Tampa Florida, 15 September 2010, 1630 Hours Local: Countdown: 1 Year, 3 months, 16 days

Mateo Cortez watched as his five-year-old daughter was lifted into the backseat of the silver SUV. Mateo buried all of his heartbreak as he waved back at the smiling Mercedes. The two of them enjoyed a very busy day at Busch Gardens, the biggest theme park this side of Orlando. The little girl was still clutching the stuffed animal Mateo bought for her. This was the last time he would see his daughter for some time. Christina, his ex-wife’s sister, almost slammed the car door while scowling at Mateo. He did his best to ignore the woman. She looked too much like Maria when she scowled.

"When will we get the money?" asked the impatient man Mateo had been ignoring for the last few minutes. Tim, Christina’s husband, was an annoying, pathetic jerk of a man. With a pinched, weasel-like face, balding head, and over-priced mall clothes, Tim looked more like a middle manager than an attorney.

"The funds will be transferred to the account set up by the trust company," answered Robyn Adams as she approached the two men. She pulled a manila envelope from her purse and shoved it into Tim’s hands. "The trustee will call you and set up a meeting. She will explain how to submit child care expenses for reimbursement."

"That’s not what the judge ordered," Tim protested.

"The judge required Mr. Cortez to provide for his daughter and place the full extent of his ex-wife’s estate to that end," Robyn shot back, "If you bother to check the paperwork I’ve just handed to you, you will see the judge has already signed off on the arrangement." Tim tried to stare Robyn down. Against the tall beauty, he had no chance. Without another word, Tim stormed back to the waiting car.

"What are you doing here?" Mateo asked Robyn.

"You disappeared after the hearing yesterday," Robyn answered. There was something odd in her voice. Over the past couple of months, Robyn worked closely with Mateo, both in her role as MacKenzie & Winston’s liaison with the Zombie Strike team, and in helping Mateo with the custody battle over his daughter. Mateo finally managed to get over his normal nervousness around attractive women and be able to talk normally with Robyn. He owed her that much.

"I was worried when you didn’t show back up at the hotel," Robyn said. Mateo’s nervousness surged back as her blue eyes seemed to twinkle in the afternoon sun. "Yesterday didn’t go as well as I hoped."

"Sorry, I should have called," Mateo said, "I visited Maria’s grave and then just kind of drove all night." Robyn smiled, and Mateo looked down at his watch. Damn it, he could face off hundreds of zombies. What about this woman made him so uneasy? Even Maria didn’t do that to him.

"We should head back to the hotel and get packed," Mateo said, "We’ve got a late flight to catch." He started to walk towards Robyn’s rental. She stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

"No need to hurry, I’ve rescheduled the flight until tomorrow," Robyn said, with a devious smile on her face. "I believe you owe me a tour of this little city of yours." Mateo’s nervousness vanished as he led her back to the car.

Skull Island, South Pacific, 15 September 2010, 1630 Hours Local: Countdown: 1 Year, 3 months, 16 days

Chief Warrant Officer Stahl, recently retired from the US Army, was getting used to his new home. He’d been surprised by the job offer from Mateo. He talked it over with Col. Allen, the commander of the U.S. anti-zombie task force. Stahl had literally grown up in the Army. His father and grandfather had both risen to master sergeant in this man’s Army. Stahl expected Allen to chew him out for even thinking of leaving. Instead, the colonel encouraged the move. The old soldier expected the battle between Zombie Strike and the Truth cult to heat up after the Battle of Rosca. The ZS team needed experienced soldiers, and the colonel needed someone he trusted on the team.

Stahl had taken to regularly walking the perimeter of the Zombie Strike compound. The old hotel and surrounding buildings had been nearly destroyed during the battle between the Great Horde and the Army. A new complex was rising up from its ashes. This one was built more like a modernized castle, complete with moat, drawbridge, and high surrounding wall. At the center was a fifteen-hundred-foot metal spire. Until the constellation of communications satellites was replaced, radio was once again based on atmospherics and radio towers. That tower could communicate with almost anything in the Pacific, including M&W’s office in Sydney.

As Stahl came onto the new firing range, he could see the girl firing a bench-rested SCAR. Stahl had put away his concerns about women in combat after his LRRP team was sent in to rescue a convoy caught by insurgents outside of Baghdad on the Tampa road. The women soldiers on the convoy proved themselves that day. This girl, Jess, proved herself numerous times, according to the rest of the team. The huge wolf that followed her around was curled up at her feet, ignoring the noise. There was something odd about that animal.

"Nice groups," Stahl observed as he stood behind Jess. She fired two more rounds before standing up and facing him. Even coated in sweat and cordite, Jess looked better than she had in weeks. She still wasn’t smiling much. The neurotoxin the Truth’s monster hit her with did some pretty severe damage to her mind. She’d only returned from some intensive psychiatric care two days ago.

"Thanks Chief," she said her voice almost normal.

"Listen, I know you just got back, but the team is going to be doing some field exercises. I think it might be good for you to come along." Jess turned back and picked up the rifle.

"I don’t know," she answered. "I think it may be time for me to quit this."

"Why?" Stahl asked.

"Because, it seems like every time I go out there, someone dies," Jess said.

"And you think you’re the reason," Chief Stahl replied.

"You think I’m foolish, don’t you?" Jess asked her blue eyes boring into the Chief.

"Nope. I think you’re in the middle of a nasty war," Stahl answered, "I think you just got hit with an evil weapon that terrified you. And it isn’t going to get any easier."

"So you think I should quit?" Jess demanded.

"Nope. I think you should want to murder them that did all of this to you," Chief Stahl said, "I can show you how." Jess looked warily at the former soldier and nodded.

Keflavik, Iceland, 15 September 2010, 1630 Hours Local: Countdown: 1 Year, 3 months, 16 days

Castle strode into the safehouse’s kitchen. He stared at the man busily stirring a pot of that American travesty, chili. The man didn’t seem to notice or care that the leader of the Truth and the Flayed One’s own chosen was impatiently tapping his leather shoe on the linoleum.

"I see you’ve finally recovered," Castle finally said, breaking the silence.

"Pretty much," Alan said, ladling up a bowl of the horrid stuff. "I see you finally had time to come and see me." Castle hated the American’s flippant attitude. If he didn’t need Alan’s incredible skill with the mystic power, Castle would have rid himself of the sorcerer months ago.

"Some of us have better things to do than nearly get themselves killed in a project that they had no business in," Castle answered. "You were supposed to be working on the Key."

"I needed to go to the nursery," Alan said flatly.

"Why?" Castle asked.

"One of the nasty side effects of spending so much time working with magical forces is that sometimes it lets you peek into the future. Sometimes just enough to drive you insane, or sometimes just enough to act."

"What does that have to do with you being in Rosca instead of Barcelona working on the Key?" Castle demanded. Alan set down the bowl of chili and motioned for Castle to follow him. Alan walked down the stairs into the safehouse’s cellar. It was cold, barely above the freezing outside temperature. In the center of the dark cellar was a crystal cage. Castle saw the man inside huddled under the blanket and gave Alan a quizzical look.

"I didn’t go to Rosca to stop Zombie Strike from destroying the nursery," Alan said. "I was fulfilling the prophecies surrounding the Flayed One’s return." The man in the cage turned towards the two. Castle’s eyes widened as he recognized the man.

"I found the Betrayer," Alan said, motioning to Collin DuBois, "I’m just keeping him safe until it’s time for him to kill Mateo Cortez."

Zombie Strike Part 7 Chapter 65

Monday Fiction – Zombie Strike – Part 6 – Chapter 63

The village of Rosca, island of Corsica, 14 August 2010, 0320 Hours Local: Countdown: 1 Year, 2 months, 16 days

Mateo Cortez watched as the monster slid on its snake-like body out into the corridor. That was the only part of the monster that was even remotely recognizable. Above the snake was a mass of gray flesh crisscrossed with pulsing vessels. Four appendages sprouted irregularly from the torso. Two ended in three finger hands while the other two were more like tentacles. And the eyes. Unblinking human-like eyes of different colors were dotted across the front of the creature. It was the closest thing Mateo had ever seen to the horrors that Lovecraft described.

One of the monster’s tentacles shot out at Mateo. He sidestepped, but he wasn’t fast enough. The tentacle ripped across his bracer and tore the PDA off. Mateo winced. It felt as if he’d just blocked a fast ball with his forearm. The other tentacle punched his chest plate. Mateo fell back as the wind was pushed out of his lungs. He gulped air trying to get his breath back. Before he could get back up, Jim stood over him. The tall cowboy fired his Big Horn .500 as fast as he could into the monster. The booms came fast and furious. It sounded like Jim was firing a machine gun instead of a lever action rifle. The bullets tore ragged holes in the monster. Thick, black fluid spurted out. A noxious odor filled the corridor. The monster made no sound. It whipped one of its tentacles across Jim’s face. The cowboy dropped to the concrete floor and didn’t move.

Mateo raised his M4 and emptied the magazine in one long burst across the front of the creature. It flinched back as a line of black ooze billowed up from Mateo’s burst. Mateo quickly jumped to his feet. He could hear the others firing, but after the concussive blasts from Jim’s big rifle, they sounded far off. It took Mateo a moment to realize they weren’t firing at the creature in front of him. He needed to see what was happening behind him, but Mateo didn’t dare turn away from the monster. Not until it was dead. Both tentacles shot out at him. He ducked the first one, but the second wrapped around his M4. More from instinct than tactical knowledge, Mateo let go of his carbine and drew his pistol. The tentacle yanked on the M4. Connected by the weapon’s sling, Mateo was jerked off of his feet and flew towards the monster. He lined up the Sig’s sights on one of big holes from Jim’s rifle. Mateo squeezed the trigger. The pistol roared once, twice, and kept on firing until the slide locked back on an empty magazine. The tentacle quit pulling on the M4. Mateo fell to the concrete floor. He felt his shoulder dislocate as it took the brunt of the fall. As Mateo changed the magazine on his carbine as fast as he could one-handed. Another thing Collin drilled into him over the past few months. The monster’s left side didn’t seem to be working. The tentacle and hand on that half of its torso hung limply. All of the haunting eyes were fully dilated, to the point they were almost completely black. The other tentacle and arm swung wildly. Mateo aimed the carbine at another hole. His shoulder screamed in pain. Blinking back tears, Mateo fired a two second burst into the hole. The other two appendages froze in mid-swing. The creature slid back into the doorway it had emerged from.

Mateo wanted to sink down to the floor and wait for Tredegar to come and fix him. He didn’t have that luxury. Letting the M4 hang on its sling, Mateo turned to see what the rest of his team was fighting. Quentin, Sport, and Tredegar were fighting a five-foot tall humanoid creature. Humanoid in as much as it had two arms with hands and two legs. It had no head. Two red eyes the size of saucers blinked from the shoulders. A mouth of dagger-sharp teeth snarled from the creature’s midsection. Mateo watched as Sport poured an entire magazine from his MP5/10 into the monster. The bullets didn’t even puncture the thick leathery hide. Billy was facing off with what looked like a red leather saber tooth tiger. Jess was still balled up on the floor.

Billy could probably handle his enemy. Mateo wasn’t exactly sure what Billy’s limits were, but he was pretty sure the pup wasn’t going to hit them facing off with the monster. The others needed his help. Mateo strode over to them, his shoulder protesting every movement. The headless monster jabbed at Sport with a meaty fist. The Brit nearly tripped over his legs as he scrambled back from the punch. Quentin saw an opening and clubbed the creature in its mouth with his warhammer. Two of the teeth broke. A booming scream of pain filled the corridor. Tredegar uselessly fired his M4 at the creature.

"Sport, can you pitch a grenade into its mouth?" Mateo asked.

"Are you bloody insane?" Sport said, "The blast will kill us all."

"We’re going to die if we don’t kill this thing," Mateo countered. Sport clearly didn’t like either option, but he plucked a concussion grenade off his chest. Sport fell into a pitching stance and froze. A few seconds passed as Mateo, Quentin, and Tredegar placed shots at the monster’s huge eyes. The bullets didn’t puncture the eyes, but they did hurt the monster. It roared in anguish. Sport hurled the grenade into the monster’s open mouth. The maw clamped shut as the grenade slammed into the back. There was a muffled thunderclap an instant before the team was coated in sticky pieces of monster. Tredegar and Sport both bent over and vomited. Mateo turned to face the last monster. It was already over. Billy had the monster on its back. Fleshy bits were strewn around the spirit wolf. The wolf’s pure white pelt wasn’t even dotted with blood or gore. Billy leapt back over to Jess. He stood protectively over the girl’s still form.

"Well that was disappointing," Alan said from behind his invisible shield. Mateo stormed to the edge of the shield. Alan met Mateo’s glare and shivered involuntarily. There were reasons Mateo was the leader of Zombie Strike.

"Lower this shield, give us Collin, and I’ll let you live," Mateo said in a tight, controlled voice.

"I don’t think so," Alan said.

"The rest of my men will have cleared out your few remaining cultists upstairs and probably have the horde you made out of the townspeople under control," Mateo told Alan, "We’ve beaten back everything you could throw at us. We can wait you out." Alan cocked his head like he was listening to an earpiece.

"Right now, the rest of your team is holed up at the edge of town with the zombies surrounding them. I will give those Army boys some credit. They did manage to wipe out the Truth’s forces here before the horde pushed them back into that little store." Alan looked sincerely impressed.

"I can hold this shield up as long as I need to," Alan continued, "Which is about three hours. After that, Mikhail and his elite forces will port into the facility and take all of you. So, why don’t you make yourselves comfortable and just wait for the inevitable? I’m sure that medic of yours could patch up that shoulder. It must hurt something fierce." Mateo snarled incoherently at Alan. The sorcerer laughed.

Mateo hit the floor as the sound of gun shots boomed through the corridor. Alan collapsed to the floor. Behind him, Mateo saw Collin’s outstretched arm fall limply back to his side. The Glock clattered across the concrete floor. The man looked utterly exhausted. He must have expended the very last bit of his energy to shoot Alan in the back. Mateo got up off the floor and walked towards Collin. Pain and purple light sparked across him. The shield was still up.

"Go Mattie," Collin said breathlessly, "I don’t know how long that shield is going to be up."

"You know what’s going to happen if we leave?" Mateo asked.

"Better this way," Collin said. An uncomfortable silence fell between the two men. "One other thing Mattie."

"Yeah?"

"Get that warrant officer on the team," Collin said, "You’ll need him." Mateo nodded. He already decided to make the offer to Stahl. Collin’s request gave Mateo a boost of confidence. Mateo turned away from Collin, unable to say good-bye to the man. His emotions were still too conflicted. The team didn’t say anything as they collected Jim and Jess and hustled up the steps. Mateo looked back at Collin just before he climbed the steps. Collin simply nodded. Outside the town center, corpses littered the plaza. Mateo could hear the gunfire coming from where the rest of his team fought the zombies.

"Stahl, this is Cortez," Mateo said over the radio, "Can you be extracted?"

"Yeah," came the clipped reply, "We’re on the roof right now."

"I’m calling Blackout," Mateo told the warrant officer.

"We’ll be ready." Mateo switched frequencies on his radio. His team had overheard his half of the conversation. They were already getting prepared.

"Blackout. I say again, Blackout," Mateo said into the radio.

"Confirmed. Blackout," a neutral voice replied. Mateo signaled to Sport. The man cracked two large chemlights. No visible light came from the two sticks, but they would glow brilliantly in the infrared goggles of the helicopter pilots. Ten minutes later, the night was turned to day by the brilliant halogens from a hovering helicopter. Three black-clad soldiers rappelled down. In less than two minutes, the entire team was secured in the cargo bay. Mateo saw a similar helicopter hovering above where the Stahl’s team was fighting. He closed his eyes as the helicopter roared seaward.

Fifteen minutes after the two teams were extracted, the C-17 Globemaster loitering over the town opened its cargo doors. Two GBU-43 MOAB’s opened their drag chutes and were pulled out of the cargo bay. The designers joked that MOAB mean "Mother Of All Bombs" with good reason. These were the most powerful non-nuclear bombs that the American military had in its inventory. The first bomb dropped quickly and detonated about five hundred feet above the town. Everything standing was obliterated. Then the second bomb pounded into where the town center once stood. It penetrated down into the base’s lower level and exploded.

Zombie Strike Part 6 Chapter 64 – Epilogue