Undead Ally: Part One
General Disclaimer: This story may contain scenes of a graphic and/or sexual nature. As such it is not suitable for view by persons under the age of eighteen. Please respect the law in your area, it's in place for your own good.
Mission Statement: This story was written and collaborated on by one or more members of TheMishMash. We are a team of like minded friends who strive to bring humor, drama, adventure, and sordid affairs to the masses. Comments and questions are always welcome and we can be contacted through our user page here on SoFurry. Please denote who you're asking for when leaving a message. Sincerely... Ghoti, Bones, and Scratch.
Undead Ally: Part One
Written by: Scratch
Content: Zombies... And Guns... Need we say more?
Personal Notes: Scratch says, "This is a long running idea I've been sitting on for quite a while now... and uh..." Ghoti says, "Oh, go sit down. You're terrible at this. Ahem... Scratch wanted to test his wings (Figuratively of course... I'm the bat around here...) and see what he could accomplish outside of my... How did you put it?" Scratch says, "Limiting restraints?" Ghoti says, "That was it... asshole... So he wrote this, which in my opinion, is very nice and deserving of your attention. Please enjoy."
Everything had changed. Things had been turned around; he wasn't supposed to be like this. He had prepared and trained for this time, insomuch as one could. As he felt himself begin to slide into oblivion his mind cast itself back on how he had ended up here.
(A little over a month before)
Dante awoke to the sound of his alarm piercing his dreams and ripping him from the sweet embrace of sleep. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
Standing, Dante stretched and began his morning routine; pushups, sit-ups, chin-ups, weight training, and then the treadmill.
After his workout Dante stepped out of his clothes and into the shower. The warm water washed over him, matting his fur and runneling through it to cleanse the skin beneath it. He stood letting the water run over him in attempt to erase the sheer boredom of his life.
The closest the coyote got to actual action was the first person shooters he played on his Xbox. Oh sure, he also went to work, watched TV, or went to his friends house from time to time. His friend got pissed with Dante because he didn't play much of any classic or indie games. Dante wanted the complete experience when he played classic games and his friend preferred to take it however he could get it.
Dante had a medical condition that kept him from his lifelong dream of joining the military. Now the only time he had a semblance of fun was when he immersed himself in his own environment and hoped into a match on Live.
His "environment" was his iPod or a docking station for it if he happened to need his headset. He rarely needed one however, because his demeanor and ways had made of him a forced lone wolf of sorts. He teamed up with random people on Live, but random people doing their own thing did not make a team. Therefore the occasional win wasn't as gratifying because it meant being paired up with the better individuals, not the better team.
Dante turned the water off and dried himself. He dressed in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. He ran his fingers through the close cropped ashen fur of his head in an attempt to comb it. Dante went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of milk and a bowl of cereal for breakfast. He took the items to the living room where he turned on the TV and sat to watch it while he ate. His favorite show wasn't on; it had been interrupted by breaking news. "Stupid breaking news horseshit." Dante grumbled "If anything ever happened that wasn't the same ole shit with a different coat of paint then it might actually be 'breaking news." He stared at the TV hoping his show would come back on soon.
He couldn't help but catch snippets of the news he was 'watching.' Soon the coyote was enthralled in the story as it went on. It would seem a rash of assaults had broken out in and around his locale. The assailants were tough to put down and attacked with their bare hands and....teeth. Could it be? It had all the signs but could it actually be?
He picked up the phone and punched in a few numbers. After a couple rings, his otter friend picked up on the other end. "Cutter" Dante said "I think the day has finally arrived."
"Are you for positive?" Cutter asked, surprised.
"About ninety five percent sure, turn on the news and see for yourself." Dante told his friend. They both listened to the news for a few minutes and agreed that it did in fact seem that the day they'd prepared for had finally arrived. "Get ready, call Meta and tell him the news. We'll meet up there ASAP." Dante said as he hung up the phone.
Dante went to his room, opened his closet door and grabbed the two duffle bags there. He headed to the front door with the bags after flipping off the TV and exited the front door, locking the place up behind him. He threw the bags in the passenger seat of his El Camino, closed the door, and keyed the ignition.
He drove the few miles to his friend's house, avoiding the areas where the 'trouble' was brewing. As he pulled into his friend's driveway he saw a familiar blue Firebird next to the otter's POS. Dante parked, grabbed the bags, got out and went inside.
Cutter and Meta sat watching the news and arranging their gear. Cutter had disassembled and was cleaning his modified .45. He looked up and motioned for Dante to come on it. Dante did just that, sitting next to Meta. The groundhog in question was cleaning his own 9 mil.
Dante pulled his own sidearm from one of his bags and began the process of breaking it down and cleaning it. "So, you actually brought and plan to use that hand cannon?" Cutter observed.
"Yep I did and I do." Dante said. The 357 magnum wasn't exactly optimal for the job at hand but Dante had a backup pistol just in case and speed loaders for the revolver to boot. They all finished cleaning and reassembling their weapons in silence. They strapped on their holsters and holstered their guns after they'd finished. They went through and cleaned the rest of their gear and repacking it, talking as they readied themselves.
"So we make a positive ID and if things are as they seem then we do as we've planned." Meta said.
"Sounds easy enough, let's go." Cutter said. They picked up their duffel bags and left Cutter's house. They placed their bags in the back of Dante's El Camino, secured them and piled into the car. They drove to the outskirts of the nearest area where the crimes were supposedly occurring to observe any action.
At their destination sat a fat badger in a cop car. The deputy got out of his car and walked up to theirs. "Help you boys?" The badger drawled.
"Just come to see what's going on." Cutter answered.
"A big heap of none of your damn business is what's going on here." The deputy said. "Now turn your asses around and get the hell out of here, after you show me some papers for those weapons you're carrying."
The trio rummaged around for their papers. From close by came a strange moan and the deputy turned toward the sound.
"Shit, they broke through!" He turned to face the figure, drawing his gun as he went. "Stop." He commanded.
The figure came closer and from the car the trio could clearly see that it was a female fox, with blood dripping from her mouth and staining her clothes. She slowly ambled forward despite the cop's warning and the gun trained on her.
"Stop or I will fire!" The cop said, he didn't hear the doors opening and closing behind him. Fifteen yards was slowly and deliberately crossed by the fox.
When she was about five yards away the badger gave her his last warning. "Stop now or I shoot." The fox took one, two more steps and the cop fired aiming low. The bullet impacted the fox's leg causing her to stumble momentarily. She recovered her balance however and kept ambling toward the barrier and the cop beyond it.
The badger's gun bucked as he fired again, this time hitting the fox in the stomach. She kept on coming despite the wound and the cop had time to fire one more time before she was on him.
The round took her slightly left of her sternum, a kill shot that didn't even phase her. She fell on the cop who dropped his gun and caught her wrists in an attempt to keep her off him and the gnashing teeth from closing on any part of him. Thunder roared and the fox's head snapped violently backward, a neat red hole appearing in her forehead. The badger pushed the dead fox off and looked around at his savior.
Cutter stood next to the car lowering his gun and resting it back in its holster. "That was impossible! I shot her in the heart and she still attacked me!" The badger said "Must be drugs, no other way she could have kept coming like that straight."
"No" Dante said, "What's impossible is that Cutter hit her dead on with one shot, he doesn't aim ya know. He literally just points and shoots."
"There is one other explanation for her behavior." The otter ventured, ignoring Dante's quip "Ambulatory necrotic automatons."
"What?" The cop asked, baffled.
"Zombies." The coyote stated, "He means zombies."
"That's what I said." Cutter muttered.
"We have found ourselves in the middle of a genuine zombie outbreak." Meta said. "I know it sounds crazy but believe me it's true. I'm sorry we don't have time to ease you into this reality." The groundhog tapped his watch for emphasis.
The cop visually struggled with this seemingly outlandish information against what he had just witnessed for firsthand. He swallowed and asked "How do we stop them?"
"Headshots," Dante stated flatly "are the preferred methods for dispatching them."
"Doesn't HAVE to be a headshot though," Meta chimed in "Use any means necessary to stop the brain from sending signals to the rest of the body."
"Sounds easy enough." The cop said.
"C'mon" Cutter said "Let's go lend a hand in there."
"My friends" the cop gasped "I have to help them; they don't know what they're up against." The cop lumbered off despite protests from the trio. They stood at the barricade knowing that soon, if not already, this would no longer mark the perimeter of the infected zone.