User:Cpl attari/The Generator Society pt2
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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. |
Chapter 1: Caiger Mall
Malls had been a sort of focal point of people ever since their advent. People would congregate to shop, eat, or even simply hang out with one another. Caiger mall was no different. Ian looked around in amazement at the people that trickled toward the mall from all directions. Some were sad looking, downtrodden and broken, tired of living in a dead city. Others were happy, they smiled and laughed, glad to discover that people besides them had the will to continue. And others still were like Ian, shocked that so many people were alive.
The ex-cop gradually became aware of the music, Spirit in the Sky was playing. Norman Greenbaum had been one of his favorite musicians before the quarantine.
From deep in the city behind him Ian heard the familiar poof sound of a flare being launched. He looked back over his shoulder and saw the glowing orb rise into the air about ten blocks away. Immediately after it there was a quiet poping of small arms fire. It kept up for a few seconds then suddenly stopped. The short lived firefight attracted the attention of only a few other survivors, most simply continued there slow trek toward the mall.
Ian collected himself and proceeded toward the large white building. Ian became aware of armed men that seemed to been patrolling the pereimeter of the mall. They blended in well the survivors except for the look in their eyes that said they expected combat. The only other difference was everyone of them had a red piece of cloth tied onto them somewhere, tied around there arm, around their wrist or worn as a bandanna. The cop looked at the banner that adorned the side fo the mall, just above the entrance, he saw that the mouse depicted as a 'Caiger Mall Rat" was infact wearing a red armband. Ian natuarly assumed that these were the previously mention Caiger Mall Rats. The closer he got to the mall the more defences he noticed. The roof of the mall was dotted with peopl that could only be snipers and it had several fixed gun positions, they looked like heavy machine guns and a few were clearly flamethrowers fro mthe blue pilot light flame at their tip.
"Oi! Mate!" a voice called. Ian looked to his left and saw a man with a red bandanna on. Ian approached him. The Mall Rat was holding a fancy assault rifle that Ian recognized right away as a Kalashnikov, it had a bayonet mounted on it and an extra clip taped to the side. The man also had three bottles in his belt full of what ian first assumed was beer until he saw the rags in the top. They were Molotov cocktails.
"Yes?" Ian asked. The man looked him up and down.
"You've got to sign in first." he said and pointed to several tables that had been set up and had long lines of people forming behind them. Ian nodded.
"Okay." he shuffled toward the sign in when the man with the Kalashnikov shouted.
"We've got a spotter!" Ian turned to see what he was talking about, it was a lone zombie dressed in a tattered buisness suit. The people all around it scattered. There was a loud crack of a rifle and the zombie lurched back a step, a spray of congealed blood came fro mthe baco of his torso. The rifle cracked again and the zombie's head snapped back. It went down and lay still.
"Good work all clear." the mall rat said into his radio. Ianturned back and walked over to a clear table. The woman sitting at it looked up at him and smiled.
"Name?" she inquired.
"Ian Nathaniel Carson." he replied. Her hand come up holding asheet of paper and she began writting. Ian noticed she too had a red cloth tied around her wrist.
"Pre-Quarentine occupation?"
"Police Officer." he answered. She nodded enthusiastically.
"We can alwasy use more of you guys." she replied. Ian found it hard to be enthusiastic after having all his friends die. "Okay, what about weapons? You have a pistol? Any ammo for that shotgun?" she asked.
Ian shook his head.
"Hm...Well I'm sure we can hook you up with some." after a second she reached into a safe box and pulled out a card. "This is your pass card." she explained, it is needed to get into the mall."
"Thank you." he said.
"Don't mention it, and maybe we'll see each other around." Ian looked back at her,
"Sure, what's your name?" he asked.
"Becky." she answered. "See you around Ian." then she smiled and turned to the next person in line. Ian trudged ownard. Spirit in the Sky had given way to a song that Ian didn't recognize, but he would venture it was Break on through by The Doors.
"Tired of letting Zeds push us around? Join the Mall Rats now! Only together can we fight back!" a Mall Rat called from beside the entrance to the mall. Ian paused, he had nothing to fight for. Maybe he could punish the living dead for what they had done to his life. He approached the recruiter.
"How do I join?" he asked. The man's smile broadened. Ian was unpleasantly reminded of a scam artist at a carnival.
"Quite simple sir. You go talk with the boss. He'll hook you up with an ID and equipment. He should be on the roof. Just ask for Hawker." the Mall Rat told him. Ian thanked him and entered the mall. The change from the last time he had been here before the quarentine was startling. The stores had been cleared out and filled with office cubicals. The mall was alive with people going about their daily lives. As Ian walked along he soon realized that the cubicals were housing for people. Some also took up the center of the walkay.
"Hey mister!" a little girl's voice called. Ian saw a girl who looked no older than 8 run over. "I'll give you a sandwhich for your badge." she offered him the delicious smelling chicken sandwich.
"Okay. Sounds fair enough." Ian gave her the now useless badge and accepted the meal. It tasted better than he could have ever imagined. Ian had been living off canned foor for weeks now. He had forgotten what fresh food tasted like. Instead of Muzak playing over the mall's PA sytem it was an assortment of songs, everything from Oldies to rap. And each intercom seemd to play a diferent song.
After what felt like hours he came to a large graffitied sign that said, "Roof Acceses" Ian pushed open the door and walked up the cement stairs. He finally emerged into the overcast outside of Malton. The roof was also full of activity. It had a number of tents covering its surface and the edge of the roof had a series of fortifications built along it. Mall Rats bustled around, carrying ammo, medical supplies and sometimes just weapons around and between the tents. Ian stopped a teenage kid who was holding a crate labled, "Ammo".
"I'm looking for Hawker." Ian said. The kid lookedf back at a large cammoflague tent.
"Captain's in there." the kid said and the rushed off with the box. Ian went to the tent and stepped in through the open flap. A large wooden picnic table dominated most of the center of the tent, smaller tables holding radios, laptops and even a coffee machine line dthe edge of the tent. The center picnic table had a map of malton in the middle with red and green pins stuck in it. A number of important looking men line dthe table, talking quietly. In the cneter of them was a man wearing a British Army jacket and slacks. Although his shirt was clearly civilian in nature. It bore a picture of an Anarchy A. He wore sun glassesd Ian had come to associate with Arizona policemen.
"Captain Hawker?" Ian called out. The man in the army jacket looked up.
"Yes?' the man asked. Ian stepped forward.
"I was looking to join your army." he told him. The 'Captain nodded.
"Of course, come with me." Ian obliged and followed the man. He lead him to the edge of the 'Ramparts' together they looked out over the steady stream of refugees. "What's your name son?" he asked.
"Ian sir." Ian replied. Hawker held out his hand.
"May I see your card?" Ian placed the card in his hand. Hawker studied it for a moment.
"Police officer?" he asked. Ian nodded. "Not only that, but you were second in command of your department." Hawker sounded impressed. Ian again nodded. "We can use you. You have the position."
"Thank you sir." Hawker waved this off.
"Do you see those people Ian?" he asked. Ian looked at the survivors again.
"Yes sir, I do."
"One day, they will stop showing up here." he looked at the cop, "Do you know why that is Ian?" Ian shook his head.
"Becuase Zed is right on their tails. We've been getting radio reports from our forward observation posts that he is comming, and he is comming in force. Current counts place his numbers between two and ten thousand."
Ian shivered, he had seen packs of 50 or more, but never a pack thousands.
"Once he gets here though, we will be ready for him. Have you heard of the Seige of Caiger mall?" Ian said that he had not.
"There have been three so far. The first two were victories for the humans. But the last one....we were overrun. I aim to not let that happen again. This Fourth Seige of Caiger Mall will decisevly break Zed's proverbialy back and he won't have sufficient numbers to mount another single attack of any signficant proportions."
The pieces fell together for Ian. "You mean, you're making a stand here, with all these people?" Hawker nodded.
"That's right. This battle will go down as by far the most significant ever. We'll meet Zed in battle, and we'll beat him. Thus proving to the Quarentine force we're salvagable." Ian blinked in suprise. He hadn't thought about the possibility that the government wouldn't come to help. hawker continued., "We've stockpiled enough food and ammo to last us for months. I'm not really worried about being starved out. I'm worried about being beaten out." The captain turned to fix his stare on Ian. The cop saw a reflection of his own dirty face i nthe mirrored lenses of his glasses. "They broke into Bale Mall not but two weeks ago. Those guys thought they had the situation under control. But steadily there numbers fell, partly to dessertion, aprtly to suicide. Until only thr diehards were left. THen the zeds broke in. THey didn't leave one of them left. that was 250 men i can't afford to replace." Hawker looked back over the fortifications. "All the while we grow weaker while they grow stronger. And we have no hope of reinforcment." he waved his hand back at the numerous tents then over smoldering the skyline of Malton. Eventually there won't be anything left in Malton to help us. No ammo. No food. No water. No viable safehouses. Then the army won't have anyreason not to nuke us. Our only hope is to invoke outside help." Ian nodded in agreement. It all made sense.
"Here you are sir." a young man said from behind where Ian and Hawker stood. The two men turned and saw a young Mall Rat holding a box of shotgun shells, a small pale white book, and a red bandanna.
"Welcome aboard Ian." Hawker said and handed him a small ID card. Ian smiled at Hawker. Hawker then pointed at the book, "I'd take time to study that if I were you. It may come in handy. But I'm sure you already know most of it by now." Ian look at the cover of the book. It said, Zombie Survival Guide on it. it was both sad and ironic to Ian that other people had thought about the possibility of such an occurence.
"Well thank you sir. But, I'm very tired. I jsut sawa ll of my friends die today. I would liek to get sme rest." Ian told Hawker. The paramilitary officer nodded.
"Understandable. Jenkins. Get him a room." Hawker ordered. The young man who had brought Ian his equipment saluted Hawker and turned to Ian.
"Follow me sir." he said. Sir? Ian thought. He looked back at Hawker who nodded in his direction. Jenkins lead Ian back into the labyrinth of the mall.
"You get used to all this stuff eventualy." Jenkins explained. Ian looked at the large civilian hunting rifle that hugn on his back. "Maybe you'll get called for some combat recon." he continued. Ian looked over his shoulder at a group of children playing with a large inflateable ball in the walkway. "Here you are sir. Rember it, Daniels Electronics." Ian looked at the store. It was missign the wide plate glass windows usualy associated with mall stores. It was also filled with cubicals and people making there ways in and out of them. Jenkins lead Ian to the nearest oen and Ian stepped through the curtain that served as a door. It was empty save a cot and a small empty crate that served as a table. Ian sat on the cot and slowly removed articles of clothing and theri contents until he had a pile of stinking rags and a pile of personal items. His now useless wallet, a picture of his parents. An spent bullet shell and a black book. Ian picked it up and read the cover. It was Jack's Journal. ( Journal: Jack Cooper )
Ian smiled, he finally would be able to get to know the man he idolized.
Notes
i screwed up when placing my first part of the story so part two is a seperate article, sorry. Unlike my last part i won't put it all in at once.
You know I like to leave ya hanging. Cpl attari
oh and one more thing to apologize for, the timing of my story is all screwed up, I don't know if you noticed, but just ignore it. It's best not to ask questions.
New note, I have been really busy lately with several projects I have begun, including a joint story (Promises to be good) and a website dedicated more toward the Max Brooks book World War Z than Urban dead but still a must see. (It is under construction still but it has begun) if you are interested in helping let me know. [[1]]
Cpl attari 04:20, 22 February 2007 (UTC)
