literature

Omega One chapter 1

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"What is TAKING so long?"

I gnawed my lip for a few seconds, letting my question hang in the air, then turned to look at the person taking up space beside me. "Seriously. You think it wouldn't take them fifteen whole minutes just to figure out no one's home."

The face that peered into mine—male, freckled, partially covered by an oxygen mask—was impassive, and his reply was as vague as it was annoying. "Nnnhh."

"The way you grunt, you might as well be one of them," I muttered under my breath, shifting my weight. My foot slipped a bit, and I had to remind myself that the slightest indication of our position would blow the whole operation. So I froze, relaxing my muscles, trying to zero in on my objective and get "frosty". Ha. Funny, because the midwinter air was already so cold, it felt like my whole face was numb.

I glanced over at the skeletal-looking oak tree that was about twenty feet from mine. I could barely see Omegas Six and Seven; they were blending better than I had ever seen them. But I knew they were there, just as I knew that the rest of Omega Team was roosting in the broken ring of trees that surrounded the creepy-looking old house. They would remain hidden… until it was time to party.

I checked my watch. It was getting close. If we didn't move now, our ride home would leave without us.

I flicked on the team-wide radio frequency. "Okay. Screw the original plan. Looks like they aren't in the mood for some outdoor frolicking," I whispered. I knew that several pairs of ears were listening, and they were just as eager as I was to kick some butt. "So we do some breaking and entering, then give them the big surprise."

I looked down and mentally checked off my list of weapons. It was a rather long list that started with knuckle knives and ended with a meat cleaver. When I was confidant I hadn't forgotten anything, I turned back to my team. "Omegas, commence attack… now."

Omega-Two shifted beside me and down slithered a line. We rappelled down the length of the tree, me going first, then him. As soon as my feet hit the ground I heard an inhuman roar from inside the house. 'Yeah, yell all you want—it's not gonna save you', I thought, feeling a familiar rush of venom through my veins. With it came a welcome heat that seemed to charge every muscle in my body… the rage of battle. The pure, unadulterated desire to pound the unholy beings inside that house to paste, and then some.

I saw glints of metal and shadows racing across the frost-crusted span of dead grass. I picked up speed as I ran, pulling out two knuckle knives as I did so. I charged like a speeding bullet toward the house.

Omega-Two was faster, though. What with his incredible athletic ability and long legs, he outdistanced me in a few strides and was barreling toward the door like a raging bull. Though his emotional output was kin to that of a block of wood, I imagined the fury that drove his speed. It was probably the same cold fire that burned in my heart… revenge.

Though the moonless night afforded no natural light, we could see just fine. I'll fill you in on the details later. I got a first-rate view of Two's epic clash with the enemy. The wooden door had been wrenched from its hinges, but the screen door was ajar; apparently the enemy had simply barged in through the flimsy lock. Two grabbed the screen door, popped it off with a seemingly easy movement, and promptly rammed it through the midsection of the creature that had been stumbling toward him with its jaw hanging almost eight inches off its face, tongue blackened and lolling horribly. The attack cut the creature in half, but it still let out a strangled yowl of blind hate and scrabbled with its lanky, decomposing arms. Two grabbed its arms and used them as handles, putting his booted foot on the thing's chest and stomping it on the floor. Its arms dislocated and literally came off, knobby bones and all. Two then pulled the sawed-off shotgun from his back and blew the creature's head wide open. Brains and blood and bits of bone went everywhere.

One down, possibly ten more to go.

I was right behind Two, and I stepped over the now-truly-dead zombie without so much as a glance downward. From the sound of things, the rest of Omega Team was doing a good job. There was a lot of screaming, a lot of swearing from a member of Omega, and a lot of slicing and dicing, but there was an absence of gunfire. I'll explain that later on, too.

I went up the stairs and spun to one side as Omega-Five and a zombie tumbled down the steps, Five still stabbing at the creature's eyeholes as they fell. When they hit the floor, Five left the knife sticking in an eye socket and proceeded to grab its head, even as it flailed at him with rotting arms. He twisted, and its neck broke. But that wasn't enough. He kept twisting until flesh shredded and the head was free of the body. Then he stood and stomped it to mush.

I kept going up. Not much to see here except the usual.

I got my first head-on zombie attack when I turned a corner and was met by a slavering, snarling beastie that had once been female. Now it was a desiccated horror with wisps of hair still clinging to a split-open, bone-baring scalp. It shrieked and tackled me, and only my honed reflexes kept me from falling flat on my back. I resisted, turning with the force of the attack, moving like I was going to punch with the knife in my hand. But the two-inch-long razor-sharp spikes that adorned the knuckles of my hand slit through rotten skin and muscle and raked bony ribs, opening a gash from shoulder to the opposite hip. Some half-decomposed organs sloughed out, and I winced slightly, glad I was wearing a breath mask that would filter out the nasty smell. I kept fighting, finally using those same spikes to punch directly at the monster's neck. There was a definite snap above all the cacophony, and the head lolled, though it was still jeering with a slack jaw.

I knew what I had to do next. Destroy the head. Destroy the head, and permanently put this disease out of its misery.

I risked freeing one hand and used it to procure a hatchet from my belt. Then I raised it high above my head, preparing to put all my strength into this final attack.

SHPLAK.

After it was done, I lowered my arm, letting the gore slide off the hatchet blade. The body slumped to the floor, halves of the head falling to either side. It was done.

But the fun was just beginning. I returned my hatchet to its place on my weapons belt and continued on my way, ready to do the same to whatever else I might find lurking in the shadows of this place.

….

The whole ordeal was over in about ten minutes. Omegas One through Seven gathered round in what had once been the living room, standing in silence as we observed the pile of bodies we'd assembled.

"Okay. Do we have a full body count?" I asked, cleaning my knuckle knife with a shred of drapery. It was yellowish with maroon flowers embroidered on it. There wasn't much blood to wipe on it, just bits of flesh and bone. Zombies generally don't bleed, unless they're "fresh"; they're just messy anyway.

"Yeah. Four females, six males, one unknown—too rotted to tell, and I'm no judge of bone structure. Anyways. That's all of 'em. Unless there were more that didn't get noticed," Omega-Five piped up, his voice oddly chipper despite the gruesome situation.

"There are always more that don't get noticed," Two said ominously, his low and intense voice full of loathing.

"Two's right, but I think this is all of 'em—if there were more around here, they would have come sniffing when they heard all the ruckus," I guessed.

"And we found out why they weren't coming out like we expected they would," Omega-Six said, her voice a little weary. "There was a cat living in the laundry room… must have moved in after this place was abandoned. Had kittens."

We were all silent for a moment.

"Well, anyway," I said, sheathing my knife and tossing the scrap of cloth to one side, "We'd best get moving. Five, Four, I want you to plant the charges and once we're all clear, blow this place to the moon. Everybody, hustle—I don't know about you, but I'm ready to go home."

A chorus of murmured agreements went up from the team, and we all made for the exit. Except for Four and Five, though—they were planting C4 and priming detonators like professionals, which they were.

The rest of the team marched past the oak trees and climbed over a rickety old fence. We all sat down in the tall grass, feeling the midnight chill and the bite of a slight winter breeze. None of us spoke; we were in our pickup zone, and we weren't feeling too chatty. Nothing special had happened tonight. This was just routine, like wiping dog poo from the rug; this was cleanup. We were exterminators, not war heroes. We had done the same thing countless times, and would do it again until we either died from wounds or old age.

But when Five and Four came hurrying over the fence, we all stirred and sat up a little straighter, anticipating the coming lightshow. Buttons were pressed, signals sent, and our former battleground went up in a marvelous cloud of flame, smoke and debris. One of the most terrifying and awesome sights you will ever see.

I glanced at my team, watching the fireball bathe them in a red-gold glow. They were kids. Just kids, some of them barely adults, but kids all the same. And here we were, with gore and goop on our hands and weapons, still sweaty and pumped-up from another round of zombie-smacking. It was eerie, it was messed up, but it was our lot in life. Our job. Our calling.

The only thing most of us had left besides going completely nutso and spending the rest of our ill-fated days in a straitjacket, to be honest.
Chapter 1, in which we get an understanding of what it is the main character and friends do for a living.
© 2010 - 2024 AetheriumDreams
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Zuniga-Lalita's avatar
This is amazing, and incredibly well-written. The details and imagery are fantastic. I look forward to chapter two ;)