User:HybridSoul/The Urban Swordsman
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| This story is part of the Malton Chronicles. This story is fan-made, and is not officially part of any background history for Urban Dead. |
Contents |
[edit] The Urban Swordsman:Chapter One:Premonitions and Preparations
It was a rainy day in the suburb of Ridleybank, and Kevin wasn't too pleased. The streets had actually been deemed inaccessible because of mild flooding, so he couldn't make it to his deceased father's dojo to teach without anything less than a liferaft. Therefore, the young Korean boy sat on his stationary bicycle, lazily rotating the pedals while half-watching the english dubbed Naruto. Just as Naruto said "Believe it" for the umpteenth time, an emergency news broadcast interrupted his program to report that, "An unfortunate breakout has just occured at a NecroTech Research facility at an indisclosed (undisclosed?) location here in Malton. Information is limited regarding the breakout as of now, as NecroTech employees are being very secretive. All Malton citizens are requested to lock up their domiciles and take security precautions. There is no cause to panic, as authorities are...". The reporter continued to spew out assurances of security as Kevin pondered what NecroTech was and what an outbreak from such a corporation could mean.
Kevin hopped off of his bicycle and secured the doors to the house. Then he ran to the phone, hoping that he could dial his mother and tell her to be home soon. He banished the thought immediately, as his rationale kicked in and told him that the phones were to be used by the authorities only during emergencies. All he could do was turn on CNN and grab a few weapons. He went to his room upstairs and groped about under his bed for a smooth, metal box. He pulled it out and opened it, and gazed upon a sheathed chokuto, which had belonged to his father. He belted it after a routine shining and sharpening. He then went into his father's room, grabbed a box of band-aids and a tube of bacitracin, and opened the closet. He looked upon the small metal safe with distaste, then decided that it was necessary and withdrew the pistol. The thought of using a small, dishonorable machine to kill was alien to the family, but Kevin and his father were reasonable people as well. He pocketed the pistol after turning the saftey on and loading 6 bullets, then looked out the window. What he saw shocked him more than a little.
[edit] Chapter Two:Revelations
Kevin looked outside to see that a human corpse, wounds recognizable through the blurry windows, was floating downstream in the flood. Then he saw the man give a faint twitch of the arm. Vaguely bothered, the Korean ran back downstairs and threw open the door to help. A terribly wounded man leapt out the shadows and latched his arms onto Kevin's leg, and bit him on the calf. Fortunately, Kevin always wore tough black cargo pants, and the feral man's teeth slipped on the fabric. Kevin, disgusted, kicked the man in the face and attempted to beat him into submission before reasoning. However, this man was remarkably tough for one so scarred, and he kept getting up after receiving kicks that had felled wild boars before. Finally, Kevin got a good kick and accidentally crushed the feral's ribcage. The snarling man let out a desperate, pained groan that echoed louder than what one would expect from someone whose lungs had just been caved in. The mortified young man left the man outside and ran back inside, locking the doors and grabbing the phone to call 9-1-1. The line was busy, as he expected, but the man outside was still weakly scratching at the window pane, and this 16 year old boy didn't want to think about the legal consequences of murder, no matter how justified.
Kevin had actually been properly disciplined, was raised to be a good person, was highly gifted, had a strict moral code that was the result of conditioning at his father's dojo, and had ambitions of going to college and doing something important in life. Now this good boy didn't want to get in trouble with the law, so he kept dialing 9-1-1 as he stared disgustedly at the window. At last, he heard a voice on the other end of the line and began to speak frantically, then faltered as he recognized the automated message receiver reciting, "You have reached the automatic answering machine of Moggridge Place Police Department, there are currently 397 calls waiting to be answered. Please hold or leave a message at the dial tone. Beep."
Kevin snarled and threw the phone across the room, then followed it to the couch to contemplate. What the hell was going on? Was that man outside related to NecroTech? This was getting serious, so Kevin picked up the phone again and called his mother. After 5 minutes' futile efforts, he decided to call his friends Steven Hughes, Taylor Obazuaye, and Jonathan Choi. Only Jonathan and Steven answered, with similar stories of drunken men stumbling toward their houses and bashing repeatedly against the doors. The three then began speculating as to how these frenzied cannibals correlated to NecroTech.
"No, c'mon, that's completely retarded man," said Choi.
"Seriously, it all makes sense! NECROTech? Bloody men that don't die?! Cannibals! These are regular Hollywood zombies!" exclaimed Steven.
"It does make sense... but at the same time it's a bit far fetched," replied Kevin. "We have to be smart about this; after all, we don't want to mistakenly kill a few drunks and end up arrested for vigilantism (sp)."
"Alright then, lets- What was that? Oh my God they've broken in! F--- there's like 20 of them! Oh sh!t I gotta get outta here-"
"Choi! Choi what the hell is going on?! What are they?!"
All they heard was a dial tone and Kevin looked outside. There were now three men banging on his door; they must have been attracted by the earlier groan. Kevin knew now that these had to be some result of the situation at NecroTech, and decided that his life was worth more than the lives of three cannibalistic drunks. He quietly slipped into the garage and readied his bicycle and put on a raincoat. He opened the garage door; the mechanical rumble attracted the three zombies, who slowly ambled over toward Kevin.
He drew his chokuto silently, and readied himself. He began to circle the "zombies", and as soon as one lunged at him, he removed it's arms. The man merely looked at his stumps and lurched forward once more, further affirming that these were classic Hollywood zombies. He spun for momentum and cleaved off the armless zombie's head, and this time it fell down for good. The other two were now nearly upon him, and he backed out of the garage into the rain. The ghouls followed, and Kevin unleashed a devastating flurry of slashes that would have rent a living man into pieces. The zombie he had hit, however, continued moving despite the fact that he was now missing his intestines and an arm. Kevin prepared a less artistic strike by lining up his blade with the zombie's face and slashing him in half vertically with a vicious overhead chop. The last zombie, which Kevin had kicked before, had nearly caught up, but Kevin had been moving in a large circle while fighting. The zombie clawed at him, but the claws merely slipped on the slick raincoat. Kevin snap kicked the zombie's jaw, and it fell over. Realizing it lacked the coordination to stand, Kevin walked over cautiously and looked carefully at the still snarling man. He saw nothing but frenzied hunger in those eyes, and asked, "What the hell are you?" before digging his blade into the zombie's brain.
[edit] Chapter Three:Refuge and Allies
Kevin biked through the suburb northward, in hopes of reaching the police station and figuring out this mess. As he pedaled through the slick streets, he saw several sights that he had to ignore: shrieking coming from houses that had been broken into, a man crouching over another man and devouring him, and a woman trapped in a stalled car with a zombie bashing his way in. Kevin was torn as to whether he should help these people or not. One one hand, helping them would likely stop the zombification spreading before it got too serious. On the other hand, every horror movie he had seen had emphasized the importance of getting out of suburbs as fast as possible. He pedaled furiously and was at Moggridge Place before he knew it.
He entered the place carefully, calling out to the policemen inside. He heard no one respond, so he ventured in with his blade unsheathed. As he turned the hallway corner, he saw several bloody bullet holes in one wall coming from inside office 114. He called out, "Is anyone in there? Do not shoot, I am not a cannibal." He looked into the room carefully as he said, "Please, do not shoot, I- Oh God."
Several zombies, including a policeman, were standing there, swaying slightly. Several other bodies, including a woman clutching a child of no more than 4, were littered about the floor. Kevin was battle ready in a second and ready to kill the first zombie that came his way, but they didn't come. They didn't even seem to notice him. Confused, Kevin wondered to himself if even zombies needed to sleep. He shrugged and screamed as loud as he could to see if the zombies were actually still "alive". When none moved, he stepped in silently and started hacking away at zombie necks. Once that unpleasant job was done, he dragged out the bodies and laid them out in the street for lack of a better place to put them. He then cleared some of the mess in the place and searched for weapons he could use. He found a box of bullets, pepper spray, a walkie talkie, and a flak jacket. He donned these items and took off his raincoat. Kevin grabbed a sharpie and a dry erase board, and wrote a sign that read, "Help me". Then he ran down to the entrance of the building, placed the sign on the main doors, and locked them.
As he was about to find a good clean room to sleep in, he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. He called out, "Say something, or I'll shoot," as he pulled out his pistol.
"Please! Don't shoot! I'm still alive here."
"Who are you?" asked Kevin, pocketing his pistol. "What do you know about what's going on?"
"I'm Fred Krubbs, the janitor here," the man said shakily. He stepped into the light with his hands up, and Kevin saw that he was a middle aged man wearing a blue janitor's uniform. "I got here for my shift a few hours ago, and I was cleaning the basements when I heard gunshots above. I went up to see what was happening, and the next thing you know this... this zombie cop assaults me and tries to bite me. I had to bash him good to get him off me, and then I ran downstairs and locked myself in. Then I heard your voice upstairs, and thought I would go check who it was." He held up a mop with the tip broken off as a makeshift spear.
"Alright, you seem to be the only person I've met today who hasn't lost his mind, so help me out here. First let's find a good room that we can rest in. I plan to stay here for a night then go out to look for some real safety. This is probably the worst place to be in all Malton during a zombie infestation."
The two compared notes about what they had seen. They both came to the conclusion that these were zombies after relating similar stories of how the feral men would not die of conventional wounds. Fred pulled out a large ring of keys and they entered the basement to cut off all unnecessary power in the building. They found themselves in a locker room. A single trail of smeared blood led off behind a corner.
"We can cut off all the personal offices and the dormitories. We'll need power in the hallways and the hold, which is the safest place in here that I can think of."
"Alright then, make it happen, I just- sh!t, look out!" Kevin yelled as a zombie emerged from behind a locker and grabbed ahold of Fred.
"Aaaagghhh!" Fred yelled as he grabbed the zombie's face and held it at bay. "Shoot it! Shoot it!"
Kevin pulled out the pistol, pressed the barrel to the zombie's temple, and fired. The zombie fell limp and Fred threw it off with disgust. He shivered and dragged the corpse into a locker. "Alright, the breakers are over there in that box."
"You mean that one, in that room with five or six zombies in it?" Kevin asked. And indeed it was true; a good five zombies milled about in the room. One was totally nude and had bullet holes all over him, the others were policemen.
"Yeah, that one."
Kevin drew his pistol and reloaded it, while Fred pulled out a large pocketknife and began sharpening his broom. They looked at each other once, nodded, and Kevin shot open the office window. The zombies turned immediately, looking toward them first with confusion and then with rage. The ghouls let out unearthly moans that echoed throughout the basement and advanced on the two. Fred stabbed at the zombies as they clumsily attempted to crawl through the window space. However, the zeds were determined to eat human flesh, and made it through the window opening. Kevin unloaded his clip into one ghoul's face, putting him down. The other four were making it through, and the two survivors backed off. Kevin drew his chokuto and began hacking off extremities that got too close, but also sheared the tip off of Fred's makeshift spear. Kevin impaled one zombie in the gut and twisted the blade while Fred kept two at bay by poking them in the chests. The remaining zed lurched forward and nearly bit Kevin right on the arm, but Fred hurled his pocketknife at the last second and the blade embedded itself in the zombie's eye. The confused zombie fell over and began convulsing, and Kevin thanked Fred as he finished off his zombie.
Fred was now severely pressed; he was backed against the wall and one zed had gotten in too close for him to maneuver his mop handle. Kevin leapt at the zombie and rent it's back open, but it merely lurched forward and took a bite out of Fred's shoulder. Fred screamed in pain and dropped his staff to push away the zombie that had bitten his flesh. Kevin ran the zombie through and continued the thrust with such momentum that he impaled the other zombie as well. He pushed the rest of the blade deep into a metal locker diagonally, leaving the zombies trapped there. Kevin quickly loaded his pistol as Fred groaned in pain, and fired off 6 shots that killed the zombies. He then pulled out his blade, wiped off the blood, and ran over to Fred. The man's face was wrinkled with pain, and gasped for breath as Kevin turned off all unnecessary power and helped him up to the first aid cabinet in the office.
A few hours later, Fred had been treated and bandaged up, albeit rather sloppily. The two had barricaded the windows and doors of the building, and were soon asleep in the holding cells in the basement. The inmates were asleep at the time, so the two treaded silently as to not bother them. The day had been long, and the next would be even worse...
[edit] Chapter Four:Escape
The next day, at around 10 A.M., Kevin woke up to see that some of the zombies that they had killed were up and running again. The inmates of the holding cells were backed against the far walls as 3 zombies reached at them from outside the bars. Interestingly enough, the zombies that had been dispatched by head wounds had not arisen.
"Hey, Fred, wake up! Let's drop these guys and get the hell out of here," said Fred.
"Eh... what? Oh, sh!t how did they get in here?!" Fred exclaimed, backing far out of the ghouls' reach. "I thought we already 'caded up the doors!"
"Look, they're the same ones we killed last night; they've gotten back up," replied Kevin. "I guess they do that unless you take off their heads."
"Hey!" yelled one inmate in orange. "You're the janitor here right!? Get us the f--k out of here! Who the hell are these bastards?"
"Hang on, hang on," said Kevin, standing up. He stretched himself out, inspected his sword, cleaned his gun, and meditated a bit. He was feeling much less panicked now that he had become desensitized to the sight of real dead men walking. "Ok, Fred, pass me the keys," he said, and Fred tossed him the ring of keys through the bars conjoining their cells. Kevin unsheathed his blade and called out to the zombies loudly enough that he got their attention. He stood behind the safety of the bars, taking his time poking and thrusting at the zombies as to splatter as little blood as possible. When he saw a zombie start to falter in its clawing, he quickly thrusted the blade into its eyes. In a matter of minutes all the zombies were dead on the floor, and Kevin had opened Fred's jail cell.
"Well, good to be out of that situation. I really gotta get me one of those swords," commented Fred. Kevin gave him back the ring of keys.
They were about to leave for food and water when the inmate who had spoken earlier yelled, "Hey, what about us?! Don't just leave us here; we haven't eaten in an entire day!"
"You're here for a reason," said the janitor. "Why should we set you free?"
"Oh, hey, I know you," said the inmate, chuckling. "You're that janitor, Krubbs. Hey who the hell are you to be calling the shots? Seems to me like the kid's in charge."
"What are you here for?" asked Kevin. "I want to know who you are before I just set you free in a police station loaded with guns."
"Well I'm Jack Michaelson, and this is my bud Karl. We got busted for trying to sell weed to this undercover cop," he said, and snickered. "Pretty ironic. We got thrown in here for a week, and now you guys show up, along with your cannibal friends who tore up Karl's suit." He pointed at the gangly black man in the cell beside his, who pointed at claw marks in his orange suit.
"How do we know you're telling the truth?" asked Kevin.
"No, he's right. I hear what the cops say when I come and go," said Fred. "If we let you go, will you help us?"
"Ok, first things first. I assume you're talkin' 'bout those freaks you just ninja'd, right? Will you explain to us what the f--- they are and how they got into the station?"
Kevin sighed, knowing this next part would be difficult. "They're- they're zombies. Dead men walking. There was an incident at a NecroTech facility, whatever that is, and all of a sudden these things start happening. I got here and locked the place up, and Fred and I came down here for a rest."
"Alright, perfectly believable, so let me and Karl out," said Jack.
"Wait, you believe me? Are you being sarcastic?" asked Kevin quizically.
"Nah, man, my mama always told me this was gonna happen one day, now come on, let us out!"
"On one condition," said Fred. "You guys have to help us. These guys are dangerous, and we'll need some help."
"Hey, old man," said Karl, speaking for the first time during their encounter, "Who the F--K are you to be telling us what the F--K we gotta do, huh?! How about this: you let me out of this cell, and I'll come knock out the chink over there, and ram his sword up your ass and out your mouth!"
"Hey, hey, calm down Karl! These guys are our friends! They can get us out of here!"
"Ok. Fred, free Jack, but leave Karl. I don't trust violent people with weapons," decided Kevin.
Fred opened Jack's cell while Karl swore mercilessly at them. The man didn't seem to understand that all his swearing didn't do him much good in the face of sane people. Jack walked out, stretched his back, and said, "Sorry buddy, nothing I can do for you man. I wanna live, you know?"
"YOU F---ING TRAITOR!" he yelled as the three left the holding cells to get some weapons.
The three went up to the gun closets warily, on the lookout for any zombies that had gotten up. Fred opened the locks and the three found themselves staring at a veritable mine of law-enforcement tools. Jack grabbed a police uniform and three pistols, Fred grabbed a shotgun and a long knife, and Kevin stuffed a police backpack with all the small caliber ammo he could fit. The three then sat there loading clips for a good half hour, as to make reloading in combat easier.
"Hey, Jack, you've only loaded one partially there," said Fred.
"Oh, yeah man, I got it," said Jack.
When the three were done, Fred donned the backpack of clips and Jack said, "Hold on guys, I can't just leave my bud here to starve or get eaten, you know? Lemme just do somethin' really quick."
"I see," said Kevin, understanding. "I'll do it."
Jack handed Kevin a pistol that had a single shot in it, and they walked back down into the basement holding cells. Karl was still raging, at who knows what, and when he saw them he screamed in rage again. Ignoring the many swear words, Kevin sprayed Karl with pepper spray. While the man was blinded, Kevin tossed in the pistol and left.
"He'll be ok now," said Kevin, and Jack nodded. "Alright, now that we have guns, we need to get out of here. It looks like it's about noon, and we need food."
The three went upstairs, to look out the window. They saw that the lights from inside had attracted several zombies, who were banging on the large main doors of the building. Fortunately, central Malton was a very old town, and the doors were furnished of strong oak and unnecessarily think iron bracing.
"How many do you guys count?" asked Fred.
"I can't really tell... they keep moving, and I lost count at 32..." muttered Jack. "How the hell do we get out? There's no back entrance, is there?"
"No," said Kevin, "but there is a roof. We can get up there and hop buildings. Fred, you're a janitor, bring a crowbar to bash open roof hatches. If we want to hop the roofs, then we can't be weighed down, so pack light, and drop the backpack. Grab something sharp and light that doesn't need reloading."
The others nodded their agreement and Jack grabbed two batons from the gun closet and tossed one to Fred. The three made some more preparations, such as belting their clips and tossing the rest away, and drinking some water from a water cooler. When they were ready, Fred led the two up to the roof of the building, and they looked around from their vantage point. They were on a second story building, and as Club Capps was the only adjacent two story building, their choice was pretty much made up. The three hopped the small space between the buildings relatively easily, and Fred led them into the club, breaking the roof hatch and leading the way down the stairs. Kevin and Jack had never been in the club before, and Fred had never been on the second floor.
The three walked down cautiously, and so heard the moaning before the zombie saw them. The lights in the club were off, so none of them could see well enough to discern exactly where it was. They had no choice but to continue walking in silence. Each felt a measure of fear at the thought of walking through a pitch dance room that could have been filled with zombies, but said nothing and stuck to the walls. They sidled their way over to what felt like a barricade, which the three began clumsily taking down. They opened the doors, only to see by the light that the club's numerous zombies were asleep. Jack sighed and Kevin stepped out into the light, sword drawn out and ready. One zombie, milling about with the crowd outside the police department, happened to notice them and began shambling over to them. It let out a howl, to which zombies began turning toward Kevin.
"Crap," he whispered as the horde began charging at him. "Come on, let's go, let's go!" he yelled. They ran fast and hard, easily outstripping the 5 mile per hour zombies and tearing off in some random direction. It seemed the zombies hadn't gone too crazy with the homicide overnight, as the zombies stopped pouring out of buildings by the time Jack had to stop for a breath.
They walked at a good, steady pace through the evening, and it seemed the entire suburb was devoid of all life.
I'm still writing this. Please don't mercilessly edit this story until I'm done and have saved a copy for myself >.< Also, I am constantly reviewing and updating previous parts of this, so check back occasionally as well, or you may get lost. However, feel free to tell me about glaringly obvious typos, mistakes, or the story in general on the discussions page. HybridSoul 16:23, 15 April 2007 (BST)
