Crossed Swords Productions

A short webstory, updated whenever i finish a new piece.

         Phil, Burt and Steve sat around the campfire drinking beer. "Another God damned day of nothing!" Phil said, Phil was a large man He had brown hair and a long beard. Burt sat up, he was the biggest of the three and oldest, his hair and chin stubble were gray, but his age didn't stop him from being just as tough as his two companions.
            "I think your smell scared them away Phil." He said. Steve laughed, he was smallest and youngest of the three, He was clean shaven a nicely groomed, because of this Phil and Burt would poke fun at him, This whole trip was his idea, hoping to prove to his friends he was as tough as they were, and tomorrow was his twenty fifth birthday.
       "What are you laughing at Steve? if anything they got scared by your perfume." All three of them laughed, while some of their jokes seemed mean, Steve knew they meant well. These three were probably some of the best friends in their town, they all met at the Mechanic Shop they worked in. It was unlikely for someone in that small town to walk into a bar and see one of these guys but not the others.
     Partway through the night they heard a loud groaning sound. "What kind of animal is that?" Steve asked.
       Burt stood up "Thats no animal, look" Burt pointed at the Human silhouette drawing near.
       "Look at that limp, he must be hurt.". Phil got up and walked a bit closer.
    "Hey, are you okay?" he yelled, the man grew closer they could see him in the moonlight, he was covered in blood and wounds. "He wont answer, look at his neck, he probably cant talk." Phil rushed over to help the man. "Its going to be okay sir, well take you to tow- aaaaaaargh!!!" he screamed as the deranged man bit his arm. Phil punched the assailant in the temple and threw him down. "The bastard bit me!" Phil yelled.
        "Quit your crying and get over here." Yelled Burt. Phil started to walk over when the injured man got back up, Phil pulled out the custom Revolver he spent almost three months salary on.  
      "Stay back you psycho bastard." The man creeped forward ignoring Phils warning. "Ill shoot you, you got three seconds to stop! one..two.." The man didn't stop. "three!" Phil shot him in the leg, it didn't even slow him, he shot the guy a second time in the gut. "What the fuck!" he shot the guy a third time in the chest, and finally shot him in the head, sending the man down just feet from Phil.
     "You killed him!" Steve yelled, Burt threw Phil the first aid kit, and inspected the body.
      "You all saw, he didn't stop i had to do something, it was purely self defense." Phil said as he began bandaging the wound on his arm.
      "We know, but still, you just killed a man."
     "That's the least of our worries, check this out." Burt said. The two walked over to the body. "This guys throat is gone, completely gone, he should have been long dead before you shot him."
    "Dude, that's fucked up, This must be the guy that the Sheriff said bit him out here." Phil said. There came more moans similar to what the man they had just shot. They looked around to see that various people were walking into the camp. almost all of them had visible wounds that should be lethal.
     "Are these what i think they are?" Steve asked.
      "Your guess is as good as mine." Burt said.
      "Zombies." all three of them said in unison. "Grab your guns boys, and aim for the head." The three of them scrambled for there rifles and backpacks which had all their ammo, and some supplies.
       "There too close for these rifles, use pistols, Steve take the shotgun." The three began to blast their way out, they were completely surrounded, however they were able to mike a sizable hole in the undead horde to escape.
     "Slow Bastards!" Phil laughed.
     "Stan's still at the rangers lodge with the truck right?" Steve asked. The group stopped
    "uuuh, we lent him the truck for the week, since we were gonna spend our vacation here we said he could go to Vegas." Phil said.
      "What! i have to get home to my family!" Steve yelled.
       "Hey now, i got one to get back to too, the sheriff was investing disappearances, maybe hes still down there, he could give us a ride!" Phil said. The three ran back to the nearby lodge. Upon reaching it they saw the sheriff limply leaning against the wall, covered in bite marks holding a revolver loosely in his hand.
      "Sheriff Carl? you okay?" Burt asked. The sheriff pointed his pistol at the three.
      "oh its you guys, no im not okay, i need a doctor." He said.
      "Okay, we'll drive you into town. give us your keys." Steve said holding out his hand.
      "Fraid not, i shot up the cruiser pretty badly trying to kill him" The sheriff gestured to a zombie lying against the door. "Arm hurt to much to aim properly, his the gas tank and engine, even if you fix it its empty by now" The sheriff began to make gargling sounds and shaking heavily, and then nothing.
       Phil put his fingers against the sheriffs neck. "Hes dead" Phil said, but then the sheriff sprang up and bit Phil on the forearm. Burt put his pistol against the sheriff's temple and fired. "he..he..turned into...one of them." Phil said, stammering.
       "Probably transmitted the disease through saliva, when they bite you." Burt said,
      Phil's eyes widened, "when they bite me!? I'm going to become one of those things!" Phil yelled.
     "shhh, not so god damned loud. we don't know for sure yet, for all we know its in the air and were all going to die. Until we know for sure, lets not get too hasty." Burt said. Phil pulled out his custom revolver and handed it to Steve.
        "If i turn into one of those...things...i want you to shoot me in the head, give me back the gun if at this time tomorrow I'm still alive. Now hand me the shotgun." Phil said. Steve nodded.
      "We should take the guns and ammo in the cruiser, then we should start walking." Steve said.



                                             To be Continued.

 "Okay, Go! Go! Go!" Ryan yelled, sending the rest of his team down zip cords into the casino. "Remember to aim for the head!" As soon as they touched the ground they began to open fire on the advancing undead.
   "Frag out!" Ramone yelled throwing a grenade towards the stairs, where a large horde had moved its way up. The grenade exploded turning the zombies into some sort of sticky substance.
       "This rooms clear, check closets, security rooms, bathroom stalls or any other rooms you find for survivors" Ryan said. "Regroup here, now move out." The squad spread out, searching every possible hiding place, eliminating any zombie's they find.
     "This building is clear, sir." Heather said.
     "Okay, set up the radio, barricade the exits, and throw the ladder out the window." Everyone moved out to secure, and barricade the doors. Ramone grabbed a rope ladder they had brought with them and threw it out the second floor window, so only humans could enter. Ryan set up a solar powered two way radio for any survivor to use. "Lets get to the roof for extraction." The team climbed up to the roof. The team stood in the sunlight as a helicopter came down to pick them up.
    Ramone was the first on, he was known as the Italian, because of his thick accent. He was the demolition expert of the team, and shotgunner, He wore the same uniform as all the other squad members, while it looked like a regular Grey S.W.A.T. uniform, it actually had a special chainmail mesh to prevent bites from piercing the skin. His chin was clean shaven and if it weren't for the bits of hair sticking out from under his beanie, and his eyebrows, you wouldn't know his hair was black.
    Marcus was the next into the helicopter, aside from being a infamous practical joker at the base he was a sniper expert, and scout. He had a bit of stubble on his chin, and had no hair to speak of.
     Heather was third on board, she was the stealthiest of the group and expert at various forms of hand to hand combat, knife combat, silenced SMG use, and silenced pistols. She was very cocky and the entire squad knew to stay far away whenever she was pissed off. Since the outbreak she has cut her red hair, so as not to give the clawing zombies a grip on her.
     Last aboard the Helicopter was the team leader, Ryan. He was skilled with a wide variety of weapons and combat, but preferred using the M4A1. He was very calm and level headed. He gave his Commander a huge headache with how often he would improvise with some crazy plan that usually barely works. But since the outbreaks he and his squad had been the only ones out there. He had short brown hair, and was clean shaven.
     "You guys did great!" Their pilot, Harold, said. "We got one more job for you guys, were coming up on a office building, clear it and we'll return to base for the last time." The team smiled at the aspect of there being only one mission remaining. "Only thing is, its not held by z's its full of psychotic nut cases. They could be cultists, escaped prisoners or psychotic nutcases from some asylum, in any case we know that they take human and zombie alike and turn them into mince meat, usually we would have you try and take them alive, but we have no housing to safely store prisoners, so rescue any hostages and kill all hostiles."
     Ryan was first out of the chopper when the reached the rooftop "Okay team, get ready" he said. The chopper began to pull away, but then a signal flare shot out of the building and into the cockpit blinding the pilot and sending the helicopter into a neighboring building. "Son of a bitch! what the fuck just happened!"
     "This is Ramone to base, Ramone to base, come in, I'm not getting any answer"
     "Of course not, the long range transmitter is in the chopper, we will have to clear this building then head down a few blocks to a civilian extraction zone, we can use the transmitter there to contact base." Ryan looked around at his distressed team. "c'mon, lets move out, and be quiet, they may think we died in the crash."
    The team slowly moved into the building, almost instantly they encountered their first hostile, Heather grabbed the man, covering his mouth and dragged him to the roof for interrogation. She cuffed him and began to ask questions. "Who are you people?"
    "Who are we? who are you? in fact what are you? what are we? hmmm..."
    "We are a special forces unit, and were human, now who or what are you people? and why are you butchering innocent people?" Heather asked.
    The man laughed "Nobody is innocent, nobody is innocent, nobody is innocent..." The man continued like this spaced only by the occasional chuckle.
    "Crazy bastard" Heather said.
     "Kill him, Heather" Ryan said.
     "Hes unarmed and secured, we cant just kill him, have you lost it Ryan?"
     "Okay then, here's your alternate options, you can carry crazy yourself through his buddies, then the zombies, all the way to the extraction point, or you can leave him here on a rooftop to slowly and painfully die."
     Heather shot the captive man in the head "I see your point, lets just take out these psycho's and be done."
   Ramone lifted up his shotgun, "lets do this"

                                                 To be Continued.

  Phil, Burt and Steve continued walking through the muddy forest, the rain poured down heavily on them. "Good news is, those zombies cant hear us, bad news, we cant hear them." Burt said.
   "When will this fucking rain stop, its so goddamned cold." Steve said
   "Cold? Im burning up, how can you be cold in this heat?" Phil added.
   "No Steve is right, its freezing out here, Phil you dont look so good."
   "No, no, im fine...I feel fine."
   "Im sure you do, just let me see your arm."
   Phil extended his arm, and Burt removed the bandages. Removing his hunting knife he sliced Phil's arm just below his wound. "Dude, what the fuck!?"
   "Did that hurt?"
   "Well...um, no, it didnt...Is that some sort of knife trick or something?"
   "No, the flesh around your wound is dead. you're turning."
   "Well im not a fucking brain eater yet, now am I? Lets go."
   "Right, lets keep moving."
   "Shouldnt you rebandage me though?"
   "Why bother."
   "Good point."
   The three continued to stomp through the mud. "Everyone quiet" Steve said. "Shambler, thee'o'clock."
   "Good eye" Burt said. "Phil, take the shot, you deserve all the revenge you can get."
   "You read my mind." Phil said, lifting his rifle top his shoulder. The two others watched as he took the shot with a loud bang.
    "Jesus Chris! You just about blew his head clean off!" Steve exclaimed
    "Ha, The rot must have weakened his skull, beautiful shot Phil...Phil!?" Burt said as he turned to see his friend lying on the ground having what seemed to be a seizure. Phil reached towards them, Violently swinging at them and groaning in pain. "Son of a bitch! He's turning! Steve..Shoot him!"
   Steve just stood there, Clutching the revolver his friend had given him, for this exact purpose. "Y..you do it! I cant!"
   "No, you made him a promise, you wanted to come out here and prove your a man? Shoot him, put him out of his misery. This is your task, not mine."
   Steve pointed the pistol at his friend. Closing his eyes he pulled the trigger.
                                          * * * * * * * * * *
   Jack sat in his house, enjoying a book he had recently purchased the other day. Suddenly there was a frantic knock on his door, he had barely heard it with his headphones on as he listened to his favorite music. On his way to the door he heard screaming "Jack!? Jack!? are you okay!?"
   Jack opened the door, and saw six other people who lived in the neighborhood, Jil, Jim, Patrick, Donald, Lauren and Margret and two of the children, July and Tom. "Im perfectly fine, what is wrong?"
   "You dont know!? The dead are walking around! They got July and Tom's parents!"
    Jack spied Patrick, who was holding a bloody crowbar. "Wait, what the hell is happening, and why is Patrick's crowbar covered in blood!?"
    "Long story short, Zombies! Zombies are walking down the streets, Patrick and Jim kiled a few, and we locked others in our homes."
    Jack looked past the group, seeing that they were seemingly right, as bloodied corpses were all over the streets. "What about Linus? Is he okay?"
    "That...goth? we got enough problems without him-" Jill was cut off as gunshots sounded through the air, looking behind them they saw Linus standing on his balcony, dressed in a trenchcoat and covered in various metal spikes and other objects, holding a sniper rifle, as he had just downed three zombies sneaking up on the group.
    "Hes coming with us..." Jack said.
     Linus ran out of his house "Hey guys, you all okay?"
    "Yeah, we are all fine, why do you have a sniper rifle?" Jack said
    "I have a fair collection of guns in the basement, you're welcome to them. Im sure Jim dont have enough for everyone."
    "Are they even legal?" Jim said, Dressed in his police uniform, as he was getting ready for work before the attack.
   "Well this rifle is, but this isnt." He said, pulling out a Mac 10 SMG from his coat.
   "I call the machine gun." Patrick said.
   "You can have it, its dead worthless against zombies. It just takes one precise shot to the head. Oh, Jack, follow me I got one you will really like, and you can help me bring these guys some guns."
   "Why dont we all go with you?" Jim said.
   "Because my basement is tiny and a third person would be too much, and someone needs to watch the house while we're inside." Linus siad, turning towards his house, followed by jack.
   Once down in the basement, Jack noticed it was actually pretty large. "I lied, I just dont want people I dont trust down here."
   "You trust me?"
   "You're the only person here who talks to me. Just because I like Gothic clothing dont mean im a freak. Now lets see....ah here it is." Linus said, Pulling a antique M1 Garand from his gun cabinet. "M1 Garand, 30-06 Rounds, Fits you perfectly. And here, 45. Caliber pistol, old military Issue model. Enjoy."
   "Thanks. What guns are you using."
   "This sniper for long to medium range, and a sawn off for short range. Now lets grab guns for everyone else, try to get all the bolt action and semi auto rifles.

                                                   To Be Continued.

   Ryan and the team jumped down into the building, blasting the psychopaths as they ran at them, carrying knives, hatchets, cleavers. Ryan was a bit worried, The guys were outgunned, and had no ranged weapons, yet they ran at them, attacking in force and number. Soon everything was quiet. "Okay Heather, Ramone start searching the building for more, Marcus, scout the extraction, Take out any Z's in our way."
     Marcus set up his sniper and soon began firing with precise accuracy. Soon Heather and Ramone returned "All's clear, I suggest we move now." Heather said.
    "How many left?" Ryan asked Marcus.
    "Not many, we should be clear for approach."
    "Lets go, before more arrive."
    The group ran out of the building, moving quickly for the extraction, abandoning stealth for speed. Soon they reached the building, and looked in horror as they saw the radio smashed on the street. "It must have been those psycho's from the last building."
    "Shit, there's going to be alot of z's coming to our position, lets get inside and defend this position"
                                                  * * * * * * * *
    Linus tossed Donald a .22 bolt action rifle. "Have fun, Jack give everyone else some guns, lets get moving."
   "Moving?" Jim said. "We arent going anywhere, we stay here until help arrives."
   "Were you always this stupid or did you work on it? The houses you didnt lock zombies in already arent feasible defensive position's. Let alone there isnt nearly enough supplies to keep us all alive for more than a week."
   "Hes right" Donald added "We need to go somewhere with food, and supplies."
   "Alright, we could head to the police station." Jim said
   "Ametuer mistake, all the survivors are going to be heading there, and so are the zombies, even if we could get in there wouldnt be supplies to go around and only a matter of time before they get in. We need to stay away from places people will try going to, grocery stores, police stations, hospitals, schools, churches."
   "How do you know so much about these things?" Lauren said
   "Well think of it this way, when we hunt our prey, we base our habits on their behavior, like waiting at a stream for a animal to get a drink, those places are our stream, and we are the prey."
   "So where do you suggest we go?" Jil asked.
   "Personally? The middle of god damned nowhere, but since were on a fuckin' island i would suggest the docks."
   "Thats straight through the city!" Patrick said
   "So is everywhere else, but we sure as hell cant swim off this rock now can we?" Jack said
   "Thank you Jack." Linus said. "Ok guys, we got our mission lets move, and we're going to need to work together if we want to survive, watch each others backs. Jim, Jack, you two better gather the supplies, food, water, all that stuff."
   "Why us?" Jim argued.
   "Because I have the extra ammo, and you two are the strongest here."
   Jim and Jack walked inside of Jack's house and began cleaning out cuboards into duffle bags. "Who put that asshole in charge?"
   "He isn't so bad, hes a nice guy if you get to know him." Jack said
   "He's a punk, he doesn't even have a job, yet he has all those guns!"
   "His dad was a collector, and he lives off his inheritance."
   "He's lazy, and a waste of space."
   "Just get the food, okay? And fill up a couple jugs of water from the sink, before the water treatment plant shuts down too."
                                           * * * * * * * *
    "You did what you had to..." Burt said.
    "It doesn't mean I liked it....happy fucking birthday." Steve replied.
    "Well if it makes any difference, you proved you're more of a man than I am. Now we best get moving."
    The two continued walking through the swamps, wary of the sounds and landscape around them. "What a fucking shit hole."
    "I always thought of moving north...maybe as far as Canada..."
    "What kept you?"
    "Im an old fuck who cant afford to retire, if I become a zombie, ill probably still be working!"
    "Gotcha, so were exactly are we going?"
    "Well it isn't Canada, that's for damn sure. We are heading back into town, you need to check on your family, and if Phil's wife is still alive...she deserves to know...."
    "Yeah, lets get going."

                                                  To Be Continued.