User:Matt Aries/History Chapter 3
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Prologue * Chapter 1 * Chapter 2 * Chapter 3 * Chapter 4 * Chapter 5 * Chapter 6 |
Chapter 3: Amicitia
“... Some people aren't wired to handle stress, and with the MAOA3R genetic marker we found, it makes him even move volatile. It's not safe ...”
The door swings close behind the doctor and the soldiers as they enter the prison's holding cell. They find an empty cell that used to hold Matt Aries.
The doctor enters the open cell and finds a quickly scratched note on the cot.
“You'll never see the ending coming.
Game 13, move 50, rook takes bishop D5
Matt”
The guard sits at the desk head down and appears to be sleeping. Nate checks on him to find he is passed out, looking down the long hallway, there is no sign of Matt or any other person.
“How did he pick the lock, incapacitate the guard, and walk out of here without anyone noticing? We were in the next fuckin' room!”
“Doe a deer, a female deer, Ray a drop of golden sun, Mhr a word this zombies said, I got no clue what it means, so I bash in it's fucking head, this shit is so much fun, then I kill another zed - ”
The clown falls backwards in a sitting position, and views the book that he bludgeonded the zombie with, and begins a fit of uncontrolled laughter and snorting.
“Now that is what I call Bible thumping, a truely religious experience if I ever had one! HEHEE!”
He pauses, ponders, shrugs his shoulders, and then tosses the book over his head behind him.
“Too many plot holes. NEXT!”
Picking up a random book, which the spine is gold leafed saying Alan Seeger. Aries beigins to read.
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.
It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.
God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear...
But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.
“Boring!”
He stands and looks around, noticing their isn't anything left to barricade the new opening and has a mock temper tantrum.
“Exit stage left!”
He strolls carelessly outside, and is bombarded by the sound of a firefight a few blocks to the south. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he heads off in the direction to watch what the commotion is all about.
It's been several months since Matt slipped out of the police station, and is now wandering the northern suburb of Roywood. Walking the highway overpass an exit sign reads Whitlock Monument Circle next exit.“Extinction ahead be warned” is sprayed over the sign to all that potentially wander further.
Aries continues to skip merrily while using a zombies intestings to jump rope, as a whip, as a make believe lasso, but after a while just drags it behind him in boredom, then decides to let it fall to the ground finished with his fun.
The walls bookending the off ramp echo with gunshots, and Matt knows this is like a dinner bell to any and all undead in ear shot.
The walls descend into nothing, revealing the suburb. Matt needs to hide, as moans of the walkers are growing closer, attracted to the constant popping from guns. A skeleton highrise tower casts a looming shadow over the area in the cloudy moonlit night. From that height Matt can probably see the majority of the suburb, and get a front row seat of the impending doom for those causing the ruckus.
The clown looks down from a 4th floor opening that used to be a wall onto Lowndes Square. Sitting with feet kicking in the wind like a child, and watches a Battalion of roughly a thousand New Zealand Special Air Service members surrounded by hundreds of dropped rotting bodies and more still walking craving their flesh. Some of them are speaking English, while others are speaking a language Matt has never heard before.
Watching closely at the tactics used while bandaging his head, the clown notices similar strategies that were made famous by the roman army but updated to fit a more modern combat style, as well as modified to get rid of any guerrilla tactics as zombies pay it no mind.
Four lines of twenty soldiers each move out into a new formation. First row is kneeling down on one knee, as the second line stands behind them. These two lines create a wall of bullets shredding everything, and when these lines need to reload, they step back and allow the third and forth lines to move forward. This creates a continuous rate of fire and slows the progression of the undead.
Aries mockingly shoots his shadow like a cowboy with two flint pistols.
These ranks are also flanked on both sides, creating a pocket in the center for the leadership to observe and make amendments as needed. The remainder of the forces are surrounding the commanders. In unison each of these reserve members begin to remove their armaments covering their chests. Each of them bare similar tribal markings, and begin a chant, something that Matt finds mesmerizing.
Kei waniwania taku tara
Kei tarawahia, kei te rua i te kerokero!
He pounga rahui te uira ka rarapa;
Ketekete kau ana to peru kairiri
Mau au e koro e – Hi! Ha!
Ka wehi au ka matakana,
Ko wai te tangata kia rere ure?
Tirohanga ngā rua rerarera
Ngā rua kuri kakanui i raro! Aha ha!”
Grunting, slapping on their thighs, stomping, tongues are sticking out. It appears very barbaric, but, amazingly empowering.
All goes quiet, no talking, no shooting, and each of the surrounding ranks part ways suddenly at the center and the Maori warriors charge at the zombies. These fighters are not using standard weaponry that Aries has seen. Everything about this was awe inspiring and shocking at the same time.
Continuing to spar with his shadow Aries, starts with the crane technique made famous by that movie back in the day, then switches to shadow boxing, and then ends off with a Bruce Lee impression that has him land square on the floor hard.
“WAAAAHHHHH! …. Fuck!”
This action brings him back to the fight below. There was a visceral brutality, that brought unwavering respect from Matt, and Aries alike. The tactics, were sound and battle tested for centuries. Matt and Aries take turns watching for what seemed to be hours as the Maori pushed back the horde and thinned their lines. After a constant ten minutes of hand to hand combat a whistle would shrill, and the warriors would pull back behind the ranks to rest and allow the lines of ranged soldiers to continue. This allowed both teams time to rest, and rebuild the adrenaline. A well oiled machine of never tiring, never wavering morale, and endless devastation.
The sun rises and Matt can begin to see the full efforts of the military forces. Few of the numbers had fallen, while hundreds if not more undead lay lifeless. The New Zealand forces found a way to create actual death, decapitation. Something so simple, yet overlooked by everyone in Malton somehow.
Standing now, and serious, Aries watches not allowing Matt to dominate control or even view what he sees. He waits to see any sign of movement. How is it no one ever noticed this. The only conclusion he can determine is that it was overlooked as everything seemed to not work, and using mostly guns this would not produce the proper results.
Mentally he tries to will a headless body to rise, hoping that it doesn't but expecting the worse. If this is correct, Aries has the means to now achieve his plans of stopping the apocalypse. If every single person can be killed, he can potentially break the chain, and restore humanity by killing each zombie. This thought is diverted at the sound of a death rattling cry.
A small band of rotters broke threw the ranks somehow. Shocked from this, Aries resolve wavers, and Matt forces his way back into mental control. The reserve units try in vain to correct the error with a spearhead, unfortunately with only bayonets at close range, more of their numbers fall. The domino effect foreshadows the inevitable end of the engagement. Out of respect for the bravery of the warriors, Matt turns and walks down the steps unable to watch the last of them turn into what they fought so hard against. His thought is by the time he leaves the building he will have enough time to slip by as the zombies would be feasting on the remains. This is not the expected outcome Matt envisioned as he exited the building. Two Maori were still fighting. Before Matt could understand his actions, Aries moved himself to fight side by side these mighty fighters, just as one of the pair had fallen.
The bigger and more tribal covered of the Maori touches foreheads with the other who had just lost his battle. He hands over his shark tooth club, and holds the wound on his neck that is pulsing life fluid. He turns with eyes widen, tongue out, in the traditional war face to strike fear in the enemy, then runs into the swarm. A single punch cuts through the neck of an undead fire fighter snapping the neck, while the other hand is used to grab another zombie by the jaw and use its skull as a battering ram on the walker behind it. With this mans dying deed he takes another three attackers.
“Kia Ora brah! Are you ready for a good death? Today we meet our ancestors in Haiviki!”
He bends down low in a charging stance, Greenstone Mere in his left hand and a Sharktooth Club in his right, and like a bull charges head first into the closest in front of him literally running him over and caving in its skull as he progresses like an unstoppable juggernaut. The Mere slices through another vertically while the club severs skull from jawbone of a third. With a backspin the jaded weapon guts another three.
Aries watching in shock, is overcome with the raw intensity, and he too runs into what remains of the horde. Eager to test out the theory of actual death on the undead. Pistol in his left hand he shoots and then finishes off the dazed reanimated elderly man with a swift swing of his axe at the neck. Thick dark oozing blood drips out as the body falls hard to the road below.
Matt jumps at his next target and gets the axe buried deep into the face of a lifeless man with a name tag reading Shaun. Feeling a bump from behind, the clown turns to see the tribal tattooed chest of the Maori who towers over him by several heads. Both men turn backs together and face what remains of the shambling monsters.
“... well you fight like the Maori brah. May my ancestors lead your spirit into the Haiviki when you leave dis world Bob. The warrior way is with you, you fight as if you are possessed. The Maori soul.”
They fluctuate from personalities regularly now. Matt is loosing more and more in his fight for control of this body. In the attempt to hide what could be an issue Aries blurts out the first name that comes to mind after Matt is asked what to call him.
The Maori turns his attention away from the psychopathic killer. Giving a small prayer, Maru picks up his friend and lovingly touches his heads, severs the head from the body, and sets both on fire to not have his brothers in arms rise.
“Maru, Maru Wata, is my name and we are now brahdahs in battle. You will not die alone as long as I am by yuh side, and I will tell all in the next world of your deeds of glory.”
What happens next Matt is wide eyed at the site of the spectacle, as Maru, rips open the chest of one of the dead, and takes a bite out of the heart that was removed from it's chest.
“So, what's wit the bandages?”
Ignoring the question asked, Aries misdirects and replies with a question of his own. Curious to the matter of why Maru is decapitating and burning his fellow soldiers.
“Why not just revive your Army, instead of putting them in the ground?”
“It is our custom that all that fight and die honorably in battle shall be brought before those that have passed on. In this land, there is no such honor, so we all agreed that when we fall, we will make sure the rest of us will be given death. Cuttin' the head off increases the time needed to rise, burning the body after makes returning impossible. None of us want to be one of these things, and doing things like this is the most natural thing we came up with.”
The killer clown for a moment wavers in the thought that everyone here has to be killed. He for as far as he can remembers is impressed and honored by this mans loyalty to his comrades in arms. This thought is quickly fleeting as he regains his composure, but, is brought out of thought by Maru's words.
“We need ta go, and quickly. While dese are all dead, more will come.”
Matt Aries, and Maru Wata spent the days sleeping in shifts on the roofs of buildings, and now enjoy eating the venison breakfast of squirrel while walking into Shackleville.
Subtle grunting of enjoyment of this rare treat of food. They stop at The Stanbury Monument smiling and taking in their surroundings. Aries eyes go wide, and his smile contorts.
“I'll be back Bro, there's something I gotta get!”
“You make it quick, or I'm coming to find you after five minutes, hear me?”
Maru doesn't expect a answer, and understands his friend needs no bodyguard. He turns and relieves himself over the base of the monument of some important figure carved in concrete.
He's already out of ear shot, but even if he was he wouldn't have cared. The only thought he has is, they have to have one.
He dives into Joe's Joke Shop on the corner of the Rodgers Boulevard. The building is ransacked, dark, and burned down mostly. Tossing sealed plastic packages over his head behind him. He throws caution to the wind, not checking for living or dead inside.
“... NO! NO! NO! NO! Where is it, it's here somewh ...”
“Hurry dit up, you're ringing the dinerbell wit all that noise.”
“Leave me alone! You're not my real dad!”
While Matt is inside frantically going through shelves of items, Maru is outside battling against a group of zombies with his melee weapons. He lifts a undead by the neck as it scratches leaving a burning tingle. Frustrated by this infection he tosses the lifeless body into a group of three other zeds.
With a surprise the head explodes, only to be followed by the sound of the shot from far off to the North. He looks around wondering if it's friend or foe, but before Maru can react, a shotgun blast, then sticky warm wetness splashes the right side of the Maori's side.
