Blood And Fire

Chapter 51-The Living Dead

CHAPTER 51

     Thousands of zombies billow from every underground orifice in the City of Aldin.  Their recently re-animated corpses move stiffly along alleys and boulevards.  Some of the undead have skin, others are little more than bone and dry sinew.  All represent the dead of the plague that had ravaged Aldin many generations past.

     The same disease that nearly wiped out humanity so long ago still lingers in these walking cadavers.  The bodies may be weak and slow, but the germ they carry is voracious.

     Vampires, of course, are impervious to all disease.  The plague has no more effect on them than a grain of sand would have on the ocean.

     But as for the people of Aldin...

**

     A keeper of the peace patrols a usually quiet neighborhood.  Since there is very little crime here, the patrolman's presence is more for peace of mind for Aldin's citizens.  Armed with only a billy club and a whistle, the officer is more akin to neighborhood watch.

     He feels something spatter on his face and turns to the sky.  Dark clouds have concealed the stars and the moon.  A few lightening buds flair in the distance.

     "Goin' be a wet one tonight," murmurs the patrolman.  He is thankful for the trench coat that is standard issue with the uniform.

     As the weather changes, people hustle about him trying to get to their homes before the sky really opens up.

     The peacekeeper notices one individual at the end of the street that appears as if he might be having a rough go of it.  The person's steps are halting and irregular.  A few times the cop thinks the stumbler might fall.

     He goes to investigate.

     "Evenin' there," the patrolman begins.  A light shower has started up and the fumbling pedestrian has his head lowered.

     Instead of responding to the officer, the person takes another clumsy step.

     "Easy there, sir," says the patrolman.  He places a steadying hand on the man's shoulder.   "Had a couple a' nips too many?"

     Finally, the stumbler raises his face to the cop.

     The keeper of the peace's face instantly changes from the smug, self-assuredness that law enforcement are notorious for, to an expression of horror.

     The man before him cannot possibly be alive.  His eyes are clouded over in the middles and the whites are beyond the yellow of jaundice.  His gaunt face is covered in paper dry skin that is a greenish – brown.  A flap of this tissue has torn away from the side of his cheek and is hanging below his jaw, exposing rotting molars.  The nose is gone and the facial bone beneath protrudes stubbily.

     Before the patrolman can withdraw his hand in disgust, the zombie has already seized his arm and a foul display of ragged brown teeth shred into the skin of the officer's wrist.

     The cop howls in pain and thrashes the undead's face with the billyclub in his opposite hand.

      Startling enough, the entire head of the creature snaps back, splitting the dry skin of its throat wide open.  A sporous dust billows from the torn windpipe and esophagus and blows right into the patrolman's face.

     Upon inhaling the sandy substance, the peacekeeper instantly is seized by a fit of coughing and sneezing.  Within moments, huge bubbles of mucous start to form from the cop's nose and spit and foam are coming from his mouth.