Human Zombies: The Compound Read online

  “Of course you’ve already had the pleasure of meeting Dorian and myself. As for the others, I hope you’ll get more acquainted with them as your stay continues. Roger, who is at the end of the table is head of supplies. Next to Roger is Susan; she’s in charge of education throughout The Compound. And on the opposite side of the table seated next to Dorian is Phillip, who provides medical care for the people of our great community. He’s the one who took care of you when you first arrived. As for Dorian and myself, we take care of the infrastructure and military operations. It’s been an integral part of keeping the grounds inside these great walls safe. I’m hoping now we may learn a bit about you.”

  About myself? I thought… How long had it been since I had spoken to another person about myself, let alone a group of people this large? The idea in itself was extremely overwhelming. I couldn’t even fathom where to begin.

  “Don’t be shy. These people have not seen any of the outside world in a long time. You are a breath of fresh air.” said Susan.

  I looked out into the dining area to see all the eyes of the townsfolk fixed on me.

  “How long have you people been here?” I asked.

  “If you’re referring to what year it is behind these walls, I will tell you we refer to it as the year 3 A.I.” Replied Gregory.

  “3 A.I.?”

  “Yes, three years after infection to be exact.”

  Had it really been three years already? I suppose it shouldn’t be that shocking to me. I had little contact with people and always being on the run it was disorienting to try and keep track of time. After all, what is time other than a tool created by man to separate his schedule of the day? And what importance is a schedule of the day that needs to be accomplished when survival is your only goal? Life became one large appointment that never ended since humanity went AWOL. There were only two things about the day that were still important; night time and day time. And I can tell you, one was extremely scary compared to the other. I’ll leave that up to you to decide. I took a deep breath and stood up from the chair.

  “My, My name is Barrett, and….”

  Suddenly my introduction was halted by the sounds of a bell being rung. The townspeople began running. But they didn’t seem panicked. This must have been an all too familiar situation for the likes of these people. I turned to Gregory as if to question the normalcy associated with the situation. Maybe there was some way I could help without getting in the middle of things.

  “That bell signifies an undead attack. But don’t look so grim Barrett, we live for this! Come with us, and you’ll see how our best defense is a brutal offense. After all, what other pleasures are there in life besides pounding those zombie bastards into the ground where they belong? And the ultimate goal of recapturing the essence of what we lost those three years ago little by little. Man has fought this way since the beginning of time. The only difference now that brings us back to our roots is the justification of survival against the undead hordes. Kill or be killed, live or become one of them. You may be feeling drained and tired of this dismal world now… But do not fear! Killing will make you feel alive.”

  We fled from the dining hall, traveling through a labyrinth of hallways and staircases. Eventually we arrived in what seemed to be the armory of The Compound.

  “What type of ammo do you need?” Asked Gregory.

  “.40 S&W.”

  “Alright, here, take what you need. But if I were you, I’d take a rifle off of the wall to your left as well.”

  I turned to my left and was astonished by what I saw. They were armed to the teeth. No wonder they were able to fend off the undead hordes so successfully. They clearly spent a lot of time here, as there were weapons spread out across the room. I didn’t even realize there were that many survivors in The Compound. But I suppose you could never be too prepared.

  “Quickly, we haven’t got much time. They’ll be approaching the wall soon.”

  There was an AR-15 on the wall that I reached out and took. I don’t know why I had chosen it. Maybe from video games I used to play when I was younger. It’s funny how the subconscious draws on things like that. Especially in a time so disconnected from the past. There was always a debate whether or not children were subconsciously being trained by and recruited through video games. I guess this might prove the theory right to some extent. But I’d also confidently say that same theory was the reason I, like many other of my generation had possibly survived this long. Survival training without ever having to leave the comfort of your bedroom. Nonetheless, if I could put one between their eyes with it, it was the right choice for a weapon. Continuing onward we arrived at the front walls of The Compound. Our enemy was approaching sluggishly from beyond the tree line. That could only mean one thing, there would be massive numbers swarming us. I couldn’t help but think they had come here looking for me. I had put everyone in danger.

  Gregory began to prep his soldiers. But it didn’t seem like this was anything new in the life of a zombie apocalypse soldier.

  “Everybody listen up, get into firing positions and prepare to engage the enemy. Snipers may begin picking them off, but I don’t want the rest of you to waste your ammo. When they come in closer and we have a clear line of fire I want you to reign down on the bastards.”

  The expression on their faces led me to believe this speech was all too familiar. The fire that began to blaze in their eyes showed me why The Compound was still standing today. These men truly found enjoyment from fighting the undead. I guess it made sense though. In order to survive in a mad world, you yourself had to be truly mad. And quite frankly, I didn’t know if that gave me comfort or scared the ever-living crap out of me. I suppose being by myself for so long had made me hyper sensitive to the raw emotions others were experiencing throughout the aftermath of the apocalypse. Growing numb to your own emotions made it somewhat difficult to understand such passion others might be experiencing. For those living in densely populated areas it was very common to have to kill someone you knew that had changed. Do you realize the type of rationalization and mental disconnect that must be obtained in order to commit such an act? It’s the type of situation that would make or break a person, sculpting how they would survive from that point on.

  Suddenly they broke through the tree line. Immediately one of the men began picking a few of them off. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Although they had high numbers their slow movements made them easy targets. But then something they did not predict happened. Beyond the tree line approached more zombies. But not the sluggish hordes we originally prepared for; a group of freshly infected came darting out of the woods. They were the ones to fear. They had most, if not all of the physical capacity of a human, but with none of the negatives. Any damage inflicted on them, other than a head shot was a waste of ammunition. And the biggest advantage to a soldier on the field of battle in a conventional war is fear. The fear of death by the enemy made it possible for one side to gain an upper hand on the other, but the infected felt no fear. They only forced fear on their victims. There was no battle cry that would deter the attack of the undead. The most heavily trained soldier would have difficulty fighting through the mental stress. I don’t think soldiers were ever required to attend zombie-killing 101 in boot camp.

  “Dorian, keep the men in line and do not cease firing until they’re all gone. You, you and you, follow me, we’re going to flank them.”

  Three soldiers came off the firing line and began following Gregory. He motioned for me to follow them as well. And then we were off, back into The Compound; running down flights of stairs and through hallways into its underbelly. Suddenly I noticed we were entering a series of underground tunnels. They weren’t structured like the rest of The Compound. They were intricate mines that must have been dug out before they settled here. The whole community would be able to take refuge in the mines if they were ever overrun by the undead. If these walls could talk who knew what other secrets these mines might hold?

  Up ahead
in the distance I could see a couple of figures waiting at the end of the tunnel. That must be the exit to the mines. It made sense that they would have men stationed to protect it at all times. If they were ever infiltrated by the undead through the mines without a guard posted The Compound would not know before it was too late. They turned towards us and saluted Gregory sternly.

  “At ease boys, we need to go up to the surface. We’ll catch these bastards from behind and put an end to this puny skirmish.”

  There was a rope ladder, which led up about 15 feet to a hatch, and as we swung the door open and emerged from the underground we could see The Compound wall, as well as our enemy up ahead. But, they were unaware of our presence as we approached from behind. We quickly took care of the sloth’s without discretion. This was the way things were now. No names to be put with these faces. Kill or be killed. The runner's continued to bounce around clawing angrily at the walls. Nonetheless, they were neutralized with the same deadly discretion as the sloth’s. A cheer of victory could be heard as the front gate opened and we were ushered inside. This clearly was an activity practiced on what one could only assume as a daily basis. They were on point.

  “I want a squad outside now to secure the perimeter and clean up the bodies. Make sure they're all dead. The last things we need are rolling zombie heads nipping at our ankles.”

  I was extremely impressed with their organization. They worked together flawlessly, like a well-trained military unit would. Darwin would be proud to proclaim this as proof for his theories; survival of the fittest at its best.

  As we were walking back inside I saw a face that I knew I had seen before, but, where exactly? The man in question was balding with curly hair on the sides, wearing tattered clothing. I knew I had seen him before, and then it hit me. The day I first came here, as I approached The Compound I saw an undead feasting on his victim. I didn’t know how, but he was that man feasting! My legs stiffened and my heart felt as if it had stopped beating. I couldn’t draw in a breath of air to speak. And then finally I found the words. Pointing towards the man I yelled.

  “STOP, You. I saw you. You’re infected!”

  The attention of the crowd turned on the man.

  “What is the meaning of this?” He questioned.

  Gregory turned to me, “This man is Paul, and he’s been with us since the very beginning, why would you think he's infected?”

  “The day I came here, as I fled through the woods I saw him eating someone near the tree line. I was certain that it was an undead when I passed him, but now here he is in front of me. I don’t know how else to explain.”

  “Is this true Paul? What do you have to say to defend yourself? This is really an odd happenstance...”

  The man stood there squirming anxiously. Why would he have been outside The Compound doing such a thing? Not a word was spoken, when suddenly Gregory drew his pistol and painted the wall directly behind Paul with his brains.

  “He knew the rules; take his corpse to the Butcher.”

  Gregory walked away without flinching. The expression on his face seemed to show that some sort of unspoken justice had been served. There was more to this than I could understand on the surface. But maybe it wasn’t my place to be digging into the affairs of these people. What did he mean by, “He knew the rules?” As if this was some sort of common occurrence.

  “The Butcher?” I questioned aloud.

  Gregory turned around and looked at me.

  “Yes, please Barrett, why don’t you just come with me and I will explain on the way”

  Hesitantly, I caught up to Gregory as he escorted Paul’s corpse to the other side of The Compound with his men; his skull leaking fluids all over the floor as we walked.

  “You must understand, we don’t have an unlimited amount of human resources. So, some people must serve dual purposes according to their specific skill set available. The town butcher has a vast understanding of anatomy; both human and otherwise. Therefore he oversees the slaughtering of our livestock, as well as controlling the morgue.”

  As we approached a shack that was separated from the rest of The Compound the putrid smell of rotting flesh began to linger in the air. A man exited the shack wearing a leather apron; wielding a large meat cleaver.

  Gregory turned to me and said.

  “Barrett, I’d like for you to meet the Butcher.”

  As I looked this man in the eyes I could see vast emptiness. As if this man had seen things no other in The Compound had. I had a bad feeling about him…

  “Nice to meet you…Butcher”

  I stretched out my hand in a gesture to shake his. He looked down and let out a tremendous laugh.

  “Hahaha, please, please, the others here may call me the Butcher, but you can call me Jeffrey. I’d love to shake your hand, but I’ve been elbow deep in pig excrement all day and I’d rather not subject you to such a horrible first impression of me!”

  Was this guy for real? He was the first person I met all day that had such a wacked out mental disposition. This man was clearly a few cards short of a full deck.

  “Jesus, is that Paul?” Inquired Jeffrey.

  “Yes, yes it is, it seems he had gone mad and Barrett witnessed him feasting outside the walls.”

  “I see…Well, we can’t have any of that going on around here can we? In order for a society to function everyone must have the same standard of moral values. And that for sure will not stand.

  ”Quickly, bring him inside and I will prep him.”

  The men brought Paul’s body into the shack and as I began to follow them in I was abruptly stopped by Gregory.

  “I’m sorry Barrett, but we cannot allow you to enter this shack. Paul was one of our own and we must handle this ourselves. I’m sure the townspeople and council are anxiously awaiting your return to the dining hall. I will be back shortly.”

  I gave Gregory a nod as he shut the door to the shack. As I began to turn around I could hear a faint screaming but I couldn’t pinpoint its location. It was clearly not coming from one of the shacks around me. And I doubt it was coming from outside the walls. The screaming stopped abruptly as I made my way back to the dining hall. Almost as if they were forced to end.

  I reentered the dining hall but the scene was much different than when we had left it. The stoic glare I received from the townspeople as I walked back to the council table sent shivers down my spine. The love they had first shown to me when I arrived had seemed to turn into disgust. As if I had wronged them in some way…But how? I had never felt so relieved to be safe from the outside but at the same time felt so insecure in the arms of these people. Had I made a mistake pointing out Paul to Gregory? He was fast to condemn him.

  As I returned to my chair I began to eat the now cold food that had been served to me. The meal continued in silence until Gregory returned. His presence brightened up the entire room. He seemed to be the life-force of The Compound. I suppose without him the spirit of the people would wither and die.

  After the meal I returned to my room. I couldn’t help but think of the faint screams I had heard earlier in the day. Where could they have come from? Was it just my imagination? After all, how much screaming had I heard throughout the last three years? It was deeply ingrained into my brain. Or was there something truly sinister going on here. I shouldn’t think that way about the people who had saved my life. But what else could it have been? Pondering questions like that will surely cause trouble for me with these people. It was clearly the death of Paul that led to the silence in the hall today. They blamed me for it, even though it was his actions that got him there in the first place. Something seemed rotten within these walls. But was it really my place to find it? Maybe it would be best if I were just to gather my things and leave in the morning.

  I turned around as I heard a knock at the door. The door began to open and I could see a figure entering the doorway; it was Gregory.

  “Gregory, before you utter a word I have to tell you that I am sorry for the trouble
I have caused your people in such a short time I have been here. I am going to set out at first light so your people do not have to worry about anymore disruptions on my behalf.”

  “Nonsense, I won’t allow it. You were brought here by the grace of God and the safeties of these walls are the only hope you have left in the world. I’m sorry, but I must insist you stay and quite possibly try to integrate yourself in with the rest of our people for the time being.”

  “I don’t know…From the looks I received at the dining hall tonight I don’t feel very welcome among your people. And I can’t blame them. I caused the death of someone important to them.”

  “Please, they mourn the death of a fallen comrade. There’s nothing more to it. Paul has been in the community as long as anyone else here. Losing him will be hard on the people, but they’ll move on. We always do, or else we wouldn’t be here today.”

  Before I could catch myself the words were already spilling out of my mouth.

  “Alright, I’ll stay for the time being.”

  I don’t know if it was a subconscious sign of hope in the back of my mind. Being around people again, regardless of their disposition towards me, brought everything back to better days. Days when we tried to avoid people who we didn’t want to have a conversation with. Irony at its best. But I knew deep down I would come to regret it. In a world like this, you can’t fool yourself forever. Better days are memories of the past.

  “I suggest you get some sleep tonight, tomorrow we’ll try to find you some work. We start our days early around here; there aren’t enough hours in the day. Fall is fleeting, as winter is soon to arrive. And if we don’t all pitch in to prepare we’re no better off than the poor souls lost outside our walls.”