...continued from page 6.

That was it - the final showdown.
On the one side dozens of slow but powerful gray undead bodies in various degrees of decay, slowly lurching forward, on the other side six undead of another kind who were both quick and intelligent and also stronger than your average human, charging at full-out running speed.
The battle's outcome was anyone's guess at this time - each side thought they had the advantage. But only the larger side had a secret ally, and It was very angry...
It took a closer look at the incoming foes. The only thing that kept them apart on first glance was that one was a young woman and one was a slightly older man. The rest were young men. All of them had hatred in their eyes, but it was the girl who seemed the most agitated and eager of them all. The older man initially looked somewhat frail and stiff, but it was easy to imagine the experience of age in him, and only a closer look betrayed the stiffness as a mask to hide his real agility. He would be dangerous.
Two of the boys stood out a little with exceptionally well built muscles and a fanatic look on the face one of them.
It made a decision on the first target and waited.
Finally, they were only a few feet away. Now!
And from behind one of the gray shapes, a smaller shape separated itself from the group and quickly pounced at the unexpecting Monica. She just saw a blurred something fly towards her and tried to duck and deflect whatever it was that was coming at her, and she managed to hit it and send it flying off to the side. But it also slowed her down and distracted her enough for some of the bigger gray shapes to close in and surround her.
Andrew and Giles didn't bother with strategy, and side-by-side they simply plowed right into the front of the wall of bodies in an attempt to divide them.
Lewis held back a little and stood his ground, punching, swiping and kicking at any incoming opponent while trying to keep an eye all around him to avoid any surprises.
Philipp also fought conservatively, but more elegantly than Lewis. Where Lewis's punches were raw and powerful, Philipp moved fast and with an admirable agility that pointed towards years and years of martial arts training, and his elaborate kicks and punches were well aimed and executed.
Gerard had suddenly changed direction just two feet before reaching the crowd and was now running parallel to the front row of enemies. Towards the end of the row, he turned again a little, and before any raised arms could grab him he had run past the front right corner and taken a spinning kick at the head of the body that had until then occupied that corner. The kick was strong enough to sever the head from the rest of the body which collapsed. Gerard kept running, but turned around again and repeated the same quick maneuver on others that stood out.
Jimmy meanwhile had managed to land on all four, turned around and found himself close to Lewis who was facing away from him at the moment. The baby body slowly crawled forward a few steps and then tensed and jumped at Lewis' head. But it did so not unnoticed, and Lewis had just finished a turning punch when he spotted Jimmy. He forced his fist to change direction and put all his strength into another punch that aimed straight for Jimmy's open mouth.
And it hit, right between the toothless jaws. But Jimmy countered by opening his mouth so widely that his jaw bones separated enough to let the fist pass through before closing it again around Lewis' fist and trapping it. Suddenly, Lewis' left hand held an open switch blade knife. He brought his arms together and sliced right through Jimmy's small throat. The rest of Jimmy's body fell limply to the ground, and Lewis turned back towards the other opponents and threw the now lifeless head at them, knocking one over who then got trampled by others who could not stop in time.
Monica battled fiercely. Her finger nails had somehow grown to 8 inch long blades that were harder and sharper than they should be, and she was dancing a ballet of anger, swirling and slashing tirelessly and without mercy. While others of her group usually concentrated on one opponent at a time, she simply sliced through multiple bodies at once, and she didn't really care so much what she hit. In some cases, she sliced away legs from underneath their bodies, and in other cases she simply beheaded them. Her arms were a blur as she sometimes randomly changed direction and alternated between jumping and ducking. Soon, piles of bodies built up around her, and she had to retreat a few feet just to be able to move freely again. Then she continued her dance.
Gerard with his slow but effective method of dispatching key elements of the opposing army had significantly rounded out one corner, each time barely running past them and striking one target while himself staying out of reach of their hands.
Andrew and Giles relied on their superior muscles and were still digging a path through the middle of the army. Whenever an arm grasped for them, they either broke through it or ripped it off with one hand before ramming the fingers of their other hand deeply into the throat of the same attacker and then following up with another punch to sever its head. When the body pressure became too tight, they sometimes picked up bodies and slung them high into the crowd. After only one minute of this, they had made their way through and out the other end. The path they had cut was slowly closing again. They turned around, nodded at each other and started again.
Philipp had been doing a good job at felling one opponent after the other. Most of the time he aimed for the throat or forehead, and more than a few times his technique was flawless enough to kick a head off the body in one go. Sometimes, when it seemed as if they were expecting high kicks, he switched to sideswipes that brought an enemy down on the ground where Philipp would finish it off by ramming the heel of his foot into its throat instead.
The gray army had taken severe losses within just about one minute.
Enough child play, It decided - it was time for It to put the blood suckers down once and for all. And by now It had had plenty of time to analyze the strategy of the enemy...
On Gerard's next approach, the outer shape of the group suddenly changed and no longer allowed him to single out any one body on the outside. He still charged, and suddenly they all moved towards him and made a grab for him. He barely managed to adjust his direction and avoid getting hit. He briefly started wondering why these bastards suddenly were smart enough to make tactical moves like that, but the bastards in question did not give him time to really think about it as a big group disconnected itself from the main army and started attacking him exclusively.
Andrew and Giles suffered a similar fate - they had fought their way about a third of the way back again when suddenly every body around them pulled back about a foot, raised their arms and then attacked all simultaneously, bringing their fists down heavily as they let themselves fall forward on the two. Giles was a little faster and managed to roll off backwards into the path they had just created, and he was back on his feet in time to pound on more bodies that were about to close the gap.
Andrew did not fare so well. He had been able to avoid most of the fists, but a few had managed to hit him painfully on the shoulders, and then a whole pile of bodies had thrown themselves on top of him from every direction with hands that started grabbing him immediately. He tried his best to get back up, but the sheer weight of the load kept him pinned to the ground, and no amount of punching and kicking seemed to be able to shake them off.
"Giles!", he yelled. "Help meaaaaarrr..." The scream ended abruptly as hands dug into his body and severed his windpipe before they ripped his head clean off.
"Aaandreeeew!" Giles turned around and furiously fought his way back inside in spite of the danger of doing it alone. All he could think of was reaching Andrew and getting him out of there, and the fear of losing his friend and brother in all but blood gave him an extra edge as he whipped his opponents through the air. He nearly would have walked right past Andrew's body which was covered with bodies, but he found him - or what was left of him. A quiet whimper escaped his throat. "Noooooo..."
A few hands approached him from behind and aimed for his throat, but suddenly he whirled around and knocked both opponents out. "You'll pay for this!", he hissed. Then he bent down, picked up the nearest enemy body by its feet and with a display of strength that was even unusual for him started spinning in place while still holding on to the body, his spin growing faster and faster until the body in his hands stuck out horizontally. He created a circular blur of movement and started mowing through approaching opponents in all direction, the body's arms connecting again and again with gray flesh until the repeated impacts started wearing them down, and they started getting shorter. And still Giles kept going. The blood vessels in his throat were sticking out and pulsing with effort. Now the arms of the body he was whipping around were gone, and its head took their place in knocking down more and more approaching enemies while Giles roared "Rrrrrrrrrrr!" with exertion. The beast in his blood that was part of who and what he was had a hold of him now, and it was angry, but it also gave him strength. And it wanted to kill.
Lewis was still using his blade in fast snake-like movements, but he was also slowly and cautiously retreating so he only ever had a few opponents to deal with at the same time. He carefully and patiently waited for a good moment each time, "time" being relative and "patience" in his case often meaning only the tenth of a second before he spotted the perfect moment - and struck. His arm shot forward and the fist lightly connected with the opponent's throat while the wrist made one fast and powerful turn that drove the knife through the flesh, often cutting a head off completely in one go. He still was in the best shape, and he also had the fewest opponents to deal with at this time. And since he was constantly retreating, they were unable to surround him. From time to time, one of them would pick up one of the heads of their fallen comrades and throw them at Lewis, but he was too fast and easily dodged every single one.
It soon lost interest in him since he also seemed to do the slowest damage, but instructed the crowd following him to slow down their advance. He could be saved for last.
Philipp had more to deal with at the time - he had a half circle of enemies in front of him and was still taking them out one by one. He did not wait for the right moment like Lewis did but simply chose the optimal location for each hit to do the highest possible damage, and his feet often were a blur, moving this way and that way in split seconds. As he executed one particularly high kick that covered the distance from the ground to the chin of an attacker with lightning speed, he failed to notice that some shapes had stopped following Lewis and were now approaching him from behind. A pair of hands landed on his shoulders and tried to grab. Philipp let himself fall to the ground and out of reach of the hands, rolled on his back and brought up both feet at the same time, and both hit the attackers behind him, but not strongly enough to do more than push them back a little. But that was all he needed. Still continuing his back roll, he pressed his hands into the ground and performed a hand stand with bent arms while his feet whirled around to keep other attackers at bay. Then in one smooth and powerful movement, he straightened his elbows and lifted eight feet off the ground. He turned one and a half somersaults before his feet landed just behind the most recent attackers, and his fists rammed two necks in front of him and broke them instantly. When a quick glance over his shoulder showed no further ambushes, he continued kicking as if nothing had happened. But now he also incorporated leaps in his attacks, jumping between openings like a rubber ball and felling one more opponent each time.
Monica had just exited her third circular pile of bodies that her slicing hands had created, and she kept going at it, sometimes cutting high, sometimes low, never being in the same body position for too long. But she did not look above her. After Its instructions, a few of Monica's opponents that were hidden behind a wall of bodies had picked up one of their own and thrown it through the air, unnoticed by her until it was too late. By pure instinct she noticed the movement above her and protectively raised her arms with her fingers pointed up. Her nails went right through the flying body but did not kill it, and its arms now had a clear path towards her throat. Trying desperately to free her trapped hands, she managed to start an angry scream of "Noooo..." that quickly was replaced by a bloody gurgle and then stopped.
Gerard realized he had lost two of his people already, but he needed time to think. So he turned and ran away just enough to give him a few seconds of peace. He closed his eyes and calmed the turmoil in his head with practiced ease. Then he began to sense his surroundings - and froze up. Then his eyes opened, and a low growl with the hatred of eons came from his throat.
"Youuuuuu!"
He slowly turned back to face the bodies that had followed him. Now he knew what was going on. He had never encountered this entity before, but his sire had told him the stories and legends and been very descriptive when he thought Gerard was ready to receive the mental images. Now there really was no going back - they somehow would have to wipe them all out, no matter what. And they would have to be even more careful since now he knew that there was an intelligence at work that did not belong to those that he and his group were fighting.
He allowed himself a brief glance at the battle field. So far, they had done a decent enough job as far as he could see. About one quarter of their opponents lay in piles in the area where he had last seen Monica. The ranks had been divided straight through the middle by Andrew and Giles, and Giles had killed maybe another 25%. Lewis had lured a few away, and so had Philipp who also had destroyed his fair share. Overall, the army had probably been decimated to one third, but they were still dangerous, especially with It leading them.
Gerard yelled: "Regroup! Regroup! We need to talk - now!"
Everyone reacted except for Giles who could or would not hear Gerard. He kept rotating again and again, and more and more of his attackers were thrown back by the force of the flying body in Giles' hands. In triumph, he raised his head and screamed "Yeeeeaaaah!" at the top of his voice, still turning and still whacking more and more incoming enemies. Suddenly, he lost his footing. While he had not paid attention, one of the gray shapes had crawled underneath the whirl in Giles' hands and managed to grab his feet. Carried by the centrifugal force of his own spin, he slowly keeled over before he let go off his choice weapon which flew through the air and collided with more bodies over 15 feet away. He managed to break the fall with his hands and tried to push himself off the ground again, but he still had not noticed the attacker on the ground next to him who was still holding his feet, and he heavily connected with the asphalt as he fell again. A couple of angry kicks freed him from that nuisance, but it was not enough against the dozen others that took its place. He never got up again.
So now it was only Gerard, Lewis and Philip who were left. Gerard briefly tried to explain what he had sensed, and Philipp's already pale face turned a few shades whiter.
"So we will have to fight intelligently and be prepared for anything that It might throw at us", he concluded.
"You mean besides them?", Philipp asked and pointed a thumb at the few dozen bodies that were still slowly approaching and starting to form a semi-circle with the three of them in the middle.
"Never mind that now!", Gerard cut him off. Then he continued, still facing Philipp: "You and I will pick them off at the tips. Lewis, I know your previous experience, and I saw you fight today, so I know what you are capable of. Go for the middle and keep doing what you did, but be very careful and do not let them surround you! Retreat as often as you need. We all need to let each other know where we are at all times, so shout out every once in a while. Ready? Go!"
And off they went in separate directions. Gerard fell back on his previous tactics of hit and run maneuvers towards areas with the fewest opponents where he picked one out and attacked it in passing. Philipp mostly stayed in place, dancing lightly on his feet, and let them come to him before picking them off one by one with fast kicks to the throat. And Lewis continued his knife attacks that looked more and more like the pouncing of a cobra. It would have been nice if there had been any light so it could make his blade shine and glint dramatically, he thought briefly and then chopped away again.
And slowly the rows of attackers shrank.
Philipp was the first to fall. Some of the bodies in his path, which were hidden from his sight by others, had ripped out arms and legs of one of their own and were getting ready to throw them. As soon as Philipp's leg lifted for yet another devastating kick, one shape stepped out on each side of the band of attackers, and both threw their improvised weapons at Philipp when his balance was at its weakest. And still he was able to deflect three of them, but he failed to notice the last of the missiles that landed by his still grounded foot. It did not harm him at first, but when he brought his raised leg back down, he stumbled over the broken off arm on the floor and lost his balance, and they had been ready for that. Philipp fell but never reached the ground, and the last thing he was able to do was to shout a warning to Gerard before he fell silent.
Lewis heard it, too, and was briefly distracted when he made the mistake of looking over where Philipp's body was slowly being ripped apart. Just as his head was turned, a number of attackers used that moment to move up and grab for Lewis. But he had expected that and was ready. His left hand suddenly also held a knife that he had pulled from his boot, and he used both blades expertly as he used their hasty attack to his advantage. He felled half a dozen in the time that he had so far spent on attacking two of them, then he retreated quickly before they could recover and regroup, and he moved towards the area where Philipp had fallen to continue his work in a safer location - he didn't feel like giving these bastards the satisfaction of surrounding him.
And they kept on chopping and kicking and reducing the enemy lines down to half a dozen.
Gerard killed the slowest, but he did so with precision, and he was beginning to make his mark in wearing away at the enemy. He kept running and running past them and with each pass whacked one heavily in the head. But suddenly, a head that he had aimed for was no longer there - the entire upper body had simply disappeared and folded back, and Gerard's kick failed to connect with anything. Carried by his own momentum, he spun around further than he had planned and lost his balance.
For the first time ever Lewis heard Gerard sound frightened as he screamed for help. Lewis reacted by shoulder-ramming his way through the remaining bodies to clear a direct path to Gerard, taking a heavy blow in the stomach himself that nearly knocked the air out of him. He reached Gerard, but it was too late - two bodies were on top of him and had already managed to rip his head clean off. Lewis furiously threw himself back into battle and finished off the last half dozen bodies with screams of rage rolling over the square.
Then it was quiet, and he stood alone, his blades pointing down, his whole body a pillar of agony. Finally, he lowered his head, closed and pocketed his knives and walked over to Gerard's body. His head had rolled away a few feet, and Lewis picked it up to place it where it belonged. Suddenly the eyes in Gerard's head opened and stared straight at him, and Lewis heard Gerard's voice in his head: "I always did like you the best, Lewis. I die, proud of having known you and having fought at your side. Please remember us fondly. Fare well."
Then the eyes slowly closed again.
How sentimental, It thought snidely. Oh well, there went this plan. But in the course of this night It had taken note, learned from mistakes and developed an idea for a new plan that seemed a lot more promising. It would be back...
Lewis slowly lowered Gerard's lifeless head. He was so caught up in mixed emotions that he did not notice the loud thunder-like roar that was approaching him rapidly. It was motorcycles, well over a hundred, led by a chopper with ape hangers. They all slowed down when they saw the carnage, and most of them pulled out weapons they had brought along - there were chains, knives, clubs and also a few guns and machine guns. Two had even brought chainsaws as a backup. They were ready to fight whatever needed to be fought.
TCruz on the first chopper held up his hand to signal everyone to stop, and he turned off his engine. He got off his bike and looked around for a while, then he made a few hand signals to send his friends out to look through the battle field, and an army of bikers spread out. TCruz walked over to the only shape that still seemed alive. It was crouched over a body that no longer had a head.
TCruz stopped a few feet away and respectfully waited for a while before audibly clearing his throat and saying: "Hey, buddy, what's up?"
Lewis answered quietly: "They're all dead, that's what's up."
TCruz hesitated. There was something about this guy that seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. "What happened?"
Lewis, still crouched over Gerard's body, chuckled quietly. "What happened? Zombies, man! A bunch of damn zombies happened! Probably made this whole stinking town into more friggin' zombies and killed the rest. We came here because HE insisted!" He prodded the lifeless body of Gerard with an accusing finger. "If we had not come here, they would all still be alive! Why the hell did you have to bring us here, you stupid idiot???" He pounded Gerard's chest a few times before he calmed down again. "Anyway, that's what happened. I don't think there's any more of them - I'm pretty sure they were all sent out to get us, but we showed them. Yes, we sure showed them... 6 of us against a hundred of them, and we won, dammit, yes, we won! In your face, undead scum!"
Then TCruz realized why he had recognized that voice. "Storm? Is that you? What happened to you, man? You disappeared, just like that!" He snapped his fingers to demonstrate the point.
Lewis slowly turned his head. "TCruz? Go away... Storm is dead!"
"No, you're not. What the hell is the matter with you?"
Suddenly, Lewis was standing inches from TCruz with his long fangs bared and snarling: "I'm a damn vampire now, that's the matter! There, hope you're happy now!"
But TCruz did not even flinch. "Yea, I thought so... We killed one of them around the time you vanished, so we kinda figured they'd gotten to you. But hey, that's cool, man. You're still family. We'll figure out this vampire crap later."
Lewis stopped growling and relaxed. Then he dropped his head. "No, I'm not one of you anymore. Go, all of you."
But TCruz insisted: "You're still family. Why are we still talking about this?"
He turned around, walked back to his bike and sat down. Then he pointed at another biker and said: "You, give Storm a bike." The biker, a new aspiring member of the club, complied without hesitation, and someone else immediately offered to take him along in his side car.
TCruz turned and looked expectingly at Lewis. "You coming, man?"
There was no answer for a while. Then Storm nodded. He followed TCruz, took the offered bike, and they all drove off.

End of Book One

...new book page 1.