home

search

Chapter Fifteen: The Rager

  The rager attacked first. It threw its head back and howled, like a werewolf in an old movie, and then rushed forward, into the classroom.

  Stu had his Midnighter out, but Lucky was standing in front of him and he didn't want to risk hitting the kid. Lucky himself fumbled for his railgun, but the zombie had closed the distance between them in a fraction of a second, and it was upon them before he could raise it into a firing position.

  Thinking quickly, Stu seized the back of Lucky's coat and threw him to one side, to get him out of the way. He would not have been able to lift the kid off his feet with his ordinary strength, but the Strong Arm skill had given him additional power, making it possible for him to simply toss the kid out of danger.

  But now the rager was coming for him. Instead of trying to bite him, however, as most zombies did, the rager raised its arm and tried to hit him. It was more of a swat or a slap than a punch, but it came down hard, striking Stu in the chest. It was a massive blow; he felt as though his chest had caved in. The Midnighter flew out of his hand.

  By now the other zombie, the female glowie, had stepped into the room as well, filling the classroom with its eerie green glow. It wasn't nearly as fast or ferocious as the rager, and the knife stuck in its upper thigh was causing it to stagger somewhat as it walked. It put a hand on a wooden desk, to steady itself as it entered the classroom...and the desk immediately caught fire beneath its scabbed-up fingers, green flames crackling to life.

  Stu paled. Lucky had explained to him earlier that glowies were capable of incinerating anything they touched; he wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. How was it even possible?

  But there wasn't time to think about it. The rager, having knocked Stu back a step with that tremendous blow, was now attempting to tackle him. Not wanting to end up on the floor, with the super-strong zombie on top of him, he slipped to one side, then swung his backpack off his shoulders and used it as a kind of shield when the zombie came at him again. Although the backpack protected him from the rager's snapping jaws, the monster nevertheless managed to push him back, driving him deeper into the classroom. The zombie, though it was only about the same size as Stu, was incredibly, unaccountably strong, and it was still snarling, bellowing, and sometimes even screaming as it pushed forward. Stu understood now why these things were called ragers.

  The zombie finally succeeded in ripping the backpack out of its face. Stu, once again thinking quickly, drew his long hunting knife out its sheath and tried to jab it in the rager's eye. To his astonishment, the zombie caught his wrist in its cold, slimy grasp and easily twisted the knife out of his hand. It then attempted to bite him on his exposed forearm. Panicking, Stu dropped the backpack, used all his strength to pull the zombie towards him, and, with his free hand, delivered an uppercut to its jaw. To his relief, the blow stunned the rager enough to release him, and both of them staggered away from each other.

  The glowie, meanwhile, was now menacing Lucky. The kid had finally managed to get his gun up, but his first two shots missed. His third shot grazed the glowie's ear, spattering the markerboard behind it with its blood...and causing the wall to burst into flames, as though it had just been sprayed with white phosphorus. Apparently even the glowie's blood was flammable.

  Stu wanted to help Lucky, but he had his own problems -- the rager had recovered and was coming at him again. Although he had several smaller knives on his belt, he didn't have time to pull one out before the zombie reached him; all he could do was backpedal away from it. But this brought him closer to the big hole in the floor. He was trapped now, between the rager and the hole, which was at least ten feet wide. They were only on the second floor, but the building had high ceilings -- it was probably at least a twenty-five-foot drop into the floor below, although the darkness made it impossible for him see for certain.

  The other zombie, the glowie, was closing in on Lucky as well, although he was being driven in the other direction, away from the hole in the floor. Half the room was on fire now, covered in greenish flames, and smoke was beginning to accumulate. "Lucky!" Stu shouted. "Are you all right?" He thought he had seen the kid stumble, but it was hard to make out what was happening amidst all the smoke and chaos.

  "Fuck no!" Lucky shouted back at him. "Ah, shit!" And he started firing his railgun again, as the glowie stumbled towards him; Stu could hear the peculiar thwipping sound the projectiles made as they shot through the air.

  The rager had taken a moment to study him, like a predator examining its prey. Stu tried to edge over to where his Midnighter had fallen, but the zombie cut him off. It picked up a broken-off chair leg -- which startled Stu; he had not expected the thing to have the intelligence to make use of a weapon -- and started swinging it, wildly, like a steel club. He barely managed to duck under its first blow, which struck the nearby wall with such force that it cracked it.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  The damaged floor, which had been making creaking and groaning noises all the while they had been fighting in it, suddenly shifted. Realizing that the huge hole behind him was about to expand, and possibly collapse the entire floor with it, Stu tried to dart past the rager, to get around it and get to the exit, but again, the zombie cut him off.

  "Lucky!" he shouted again. "Get out of here! The floor's about to--"

  And that was all he managed to get out, before the floor sagged and totally collapsed beneath his feet. Stu and the rager both fell at the same time, sliding down, but the rager fell forward, practically falling into Stu's arms. He grabbed the zombie's rotting limbs, spun it around, and rode it down into the depths, using it to cushion his fall. It couldn't have taken more than a second or two for them to fall down to the first floor, but it felt like an eternity; Stu, grappling with the still-raging zombie, was struck by falling debris and blinded by dust, and he hit the ground hard.

  The rager hit it even harder, though, because Stu was on top of him. Stu felt the zombie's bones break beneath him; he heard its ribs crack.

  Rolling off the zombie, and out of the way of more falling debris, he slowly got to his feet. He was stunned; even with the zombie taking the brunt of the fall for him, the impact had knocked some of the wind out of him, and a chunk of the floor had struck him in the head as he had fallen. He was bleeding from his scalp.

  But he was still alive, and still alert enough to take note of his surroundings. He had fallen into a very large, open room, which he quickly realized was the school cafeteria. It was packed with tables and chairs, but also with equipment, machinery, tents, blankets, oil barrels, and other oddments -- the Wild Pack gangsters had evidently been using the room as the base of their operations. There were also dozens of bodies strewn all over the floor, some of which had been badly mutilated.

  Looking up, Stu saw that he had indeed fallen at least twenty or twenty-five feet -- there was a big hole in the ceiling, through which the green fire of the glowie could be seen. Where was Lucky? Had the kid fallen into the cafeteria too? He didn't see him, but it was possible he had been buried under the debris.

  "Lucky!" he shouted. "Are you all right?" But he got no response.

  And now the rager was slowly climbing to its feet. The fall had hurt it, but it hadn't been enough to kill it -- the "Level 3 Rager" indicator was still hanging above its head. Stu wished that the ICON system gave him the ability to see the HP of these zombies, but there was no accompanying red bar over its head, showing its remaining health and fortitude; all he could do was guess.

  Hoping to kill the zombie before it could recover enough to attack him, Stu pulled one of the smaller knives out of his belt and used his once-a-day Dead Aim skill -- the skill which gave him the ability to throw any object with perfect accuracy. He drew back his arm, and as the rager got to its feet to face him, he threw the blade with all his strength, aiming for its right eye.

  But the rager raised its hand to defend itself, and instead of hitting its eye, the knife merely punctured its palm, embedding itself in the zombie's hand.

  Stu stared in disbelief. The Dead Aim skill was his secret weapon; he had thought he could kill anything with it. But now he realized, belatedly, that his ability to throw an object with perfect accuracy did not necessarily mean that he would always hit his target -- a knife could always be blocked or deflected, after all. The Brute hadn't been fast enough to protect itself, but the rager was a different type of irregular -- it was strong and fast and could even make use of weapons. It was ferocious, yes, but it wasn't just an unthinking monster. It knew how to fight.

  Shit. Panicking again, he reached for another knife, but by then the rager was already rushing towards him. Disregarding the knife, he decided to make use of his enhanced strength instead, and to use a maneuver he had once seen in a TV show. He had no idea if it would work, but...

  As the zombie came flying forward, he fell into a crouch, wrapped his arms its waist, and lifted it off the ground, heaving it completely over his head. The zombie landed on the table behind him, flat on its back.

  Whirling around, Stu grabbed it by the shoulders, pulled it forward so that its head hung over the table, and picked up a huge chunk of debris, which he brought down with tremendous force on the zombie's face. Though its head remained attached, the blow separated the rager's skull from its spinal column, its throat bulging out disgustingly as the bones shattered upward. Black blood, stained silver, leaked out of its eyes, mouth, and nose. It stopped moving.

  Stu stumbled away from the zombie, as an ICON message popped up in his vision:

  Level 3 Rager defeated!

  Level Up! 7-8

  Gained 2 SP!

  Access Menu?

  Defeating the rager had only gained him a single level and two skill points? Well, it was only a Level 3, he supposed; the Brute had been a Level 10. But if this rager had only been a Level 3...what would it be like to try to fight a Level 10 rager? He decided he didn't want to find out.

  "Lucky!" he called out again. "Are you okay?" But there was still no answer.

  He had to get back up to the second floor and help the kid; that glowie was still on the loose. He started for the exit...and stopped.

  While he had been fighting the rager, at least a dozen zombies -- heretofore hidden in the darkness -- had risen to their feet in the cafeteria. The ICON system began identifying them, one by one, their designations flickering to life all around him: "Level 2 Zombie", "Level 6 Zombie", "Level 1 Shaker", "Level 1 Bomber", and so on. Some of the undead looked to have been former Wild Pack gangsters, now reanimated as zombies.

  "Great," he muttered, backing away slowly. "Just great."

Recommended Popular Novels