Help Me I'm in Hell (post-apocalyptic zombie story)

[CountAlucard]

One day I had a tremendous urge to right about zombies, this was my result. I think it's pretty good for a spur of the moment story, I'll post more chapters later if anyone is interested.


Chapter 1: One short night

Dermot walked along the side of a country road in Northern Ontario, it was slightly chill as winter was coming to an end and spring was on its way. “****ing great” he thought as he took a sip from a travellers coffee mug, the contents of which had long gone cold “the bastard’s bodies will reek come the summer heat.” He said to himself, there was no one living around to talk with for kilometres. The sun was setting fast while he walked south, he needed a place to stay, but he hadn’t come across any houses. 'I really don’t want to camp’ he thought, knowing the undead lurked in the fields to his left and right, he could find himself one of them by the time he woke up.

Suddenly though it seemed as though luck was upon him, up ahead was a small farmhouse, one story only but he could barricade the door and secure it for a few nights stay. He began to walk in that direction, hoping it would be empty. The items attached to his pack began to rattle with every heavy, tired step, he had on him an axe for protection and firewood, kitchen knives for pretty much everything, a kettle, some pots and a lamp. Inside the backpack was some clothing, a sleeping bag some matches, cigarettes and lighter fluid. He was always a light traveller and found it all the more useful to him now.

As he approached the house, he noticed the back door was smashed to pieces, looks like whoever had lived there left in a hurry, so much of one they didn't open the door first. That wasn't a good sign, it means it'll be harder for him to barricade and that something might be inside, it was times like these he wished he had found a gun but it wasn't like he had past many gun shops or police station since the fall and his long walk south. Now, only a few steps away from the driveway, he saw what poor shape the place was in, broken windows and a hole in the roof, he didn't want to spend one night here much less several but he had little choice otherwise. His hand went for the doorknob, but a slight breeze blew the door open for him, a black steel-toed boot hit the wooden floor, it had fallen from the closet. Picking it up and checking the size, he found the other one and sat down to put them on "good boots like these are hard to find" he said quietly and after putting them on he stood up and went to work securing the house.

-

A few hours later, with his work finally done, Dermot put his kettle on the woodstove and sat down in-front of it. The heat warmed his frost-bitten hands and the coffee would keep his mind sharp before he finally settled in to sleep. The back door had been boarded up, he had torn up parts of the floor and found some nails and a hammer in the garage, it would prove enough to keep the cold and maybe a few of those filthy ****ers out, he had simple closed the front door, locked it and shoved a couch in front of it. As for the windows, closing them and pulling the curtains was the best he could do. "I hope I last the night" he said while laying back in the rocking chair, it was hard and uncomfortable but he didn't want to go into too deep a sleep, he was never sure if he was afraid of dying, becoming one of them, or just failing to find someone else in this world but he would rather live for another day and find out.

Dermot had been asleep for two hours before the scratching at the window woke him up 'it's not even light-out' he thought in a sleepy daze 'a racoon is it?' suddenly his mind was wide awake and full of fear, he got up, grabbing the axe by his chair and ran towards the window, slowly he made his way closer, he would throw back the shudders and hopefully discover he was wrong, no such luck. A decayed hand tore through the window, a lashed out at him, a hunk of glass stuck in its wrist, he ran back to his chair to grab his pack just as the boards over the backdoor began to fly off. "Shit" he yelled, he had to get out, he could never fight them off in such an enclosed place, but how? Quickly and quietly he ran to the door leading to the garage, he opened it just slightly and walked out to see an old car parked inside, a smile crossed his face as he ran back in to check for keys.

Upon returning inside, Dermot saw hands reaching through all the front windows and the holes in the boards at the back door, he didn't have time to conduct a long search so he ran into the bedroom and grabbed the first set of keys he saw, hoping they were for the car and not the shed out back. He ran back into the garage, grabbed a can of gas and shoved it into the backseat just as the door inside was broken down, six zombies rushed in and Dermot knew more would follow. Sliding across the hood he scrambled into the driver side door, shoved the keys into the ignition and started the engine, it worked. He crashed through the garage door just as they began to flood the place, grasping at the car, the door and a few bodies were crushed under the spinning tires as he raced out of the driveway and onto the main road. By the clock on the dashboard it was 3:00 am but Dermot knew he wouldn't sleep again tonight.

[CountAlucard]

Chapter 2

Also I'm sorry to bother any mods again, but could they edit the title to "Help Me I'm in Hell" no "Hellsing" I messed up while typing it


Chapter 2: What a convenient time


It was dawn by the time he came up to another building, Dermot hadn't had a good night sleep all week but was so full of adrenaline he felt as if he'd never sleep again. The sky was a mixture of purple and red and from the light of the rising sun he noticed the people lying to the sides of the road, it looked as if they had fallen asleep but he knew better, someone had taken that convenience store and these are what are left of any unwelcomed guests. He pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car to stretch his legs and check the place out, he took the keys out in case someone was hiding and tried to take it but left the door unlocked, he might need to take shelter in their very quickly.

The parking lot was cracked and dull grey, the yellow paint dividing it was old and faded. The building was two stories, the top was an old video store while the bottom was where the convenience store was, he glanced around to the side and looking at all the bodies in the field and cars to the side of the road "how convenient" he thought with a smile, he might check the cars and bodies too if he had the time, of course he had the time, these days that's all he ever had.

Popping the trunk, Dermot moved the gas cans from the backseat, he also put his pack inside and the sleeping bag. The trunk had little inside, a tire iron that would be useful to both change tires and break open a window, and a carjack "yet no spare tire" he noted. Picking up the tire iron, Dermot walked towards the convenience store and shoved it through the window by the cash-register. Glass exploded inwards covering the desk and floor, he lifted himself inside and jumped over the desk. Grabbing a shopping basket he loaded up on non-perishable foods, matches and smokes, alcohol and a battery-operated flashlight, behind the counter he found a .38 revolver, but only 3 chambers full and no bullets in sight.

After checking the store and finding nothing, Dermot went to look in the cars at the side of the road, he didn't want to go too far so he only checked two, neither which had anything useful. He proceeded to the field, and on one of the bodies found another gun, a magnum. It was lodged in a man mouth, but despite the blood and saliva Dermot knew he'd need it, so stepping on the man's bottom chin and forcing the mouth open he slid it out and wiped it off on the bodies’ clothes.

-

When he finally arrived back at the car he noticed he had left the back door open, and upon hearing a sound he drew the magnum and slowly walked closer. He was only a metre from the door when a small figure jumped out, in surprise he shot off a round that went flying harmlessly into a telephone pole, glancing down he saw his attacker, a small cat. Gently kicked it off of him he yelled for it to leave, "**** off." The cat walked away but when he went to the driver side he noticed it had followed him "I thought I said **** off?" It didn't appear to understand, as it just began to paw at the door, he let out a sigh and opened it for it "goddammit" he said, as he walked back into the convenience store for some cat food.

[CountAlucard]

Chapter 3: The motel

"****" he yelled, kicking the tire "what's wrong" came a voice from inside the car, the girl got out and looked at him, she was in her mid teens, 5:7 with long straight blonde hair and a pale complexion, wearing a white top and blue jeans. "Nothing's wrong" he snapped "the tire just blew out, we must have run over something, glass maybe" he walked around to the back of the car and opened the trunk "just sit in the car, Marion." She followed her grandfather’s command grudgingly and sat in the backseat, thinking over things while waiting for the old man to finish.

'How long have we been on the road for?' Marion wondered 'a week maybe, all the days seemed to merge together now.' She supposed it was good fortune she didn't know, it'd drive her crazy knowing how much has happened in such a short while. Her grandfather had taken her on the road from her house during the early days of this whole mess, she had been "just sittin’ there” he had told her "starin' at the wall." She wondered why, waiting for her parents to come home, or something from outside to get in, who knows? most of the time is only a blur of memory now 'I guess that's best' she thought, then slid her seatbelt on as she saw her grandfather stand up and walk towards the driver's side. 'He looks terrible' she thought with pity, he had hardly slept or talked the whole time, is grey hair was dirty and wild, he had grown a beard that was just as dirty. His clothes, a wool jacket, white shirt underneath and faded blue jeans were all dirty, covered in mud, oil and blood. Marion pulled a blanket up to her chin, he had taken her in such a hurry she couldn't grab any warmer clothes and she was freezing. "Grampa?" she asked concerned, seeing him troubled, he looked at her through the rear-view mirror "I'm sorry I yelled" he said "I'm just tired. What do you say we find a nice place to rest and eat, get some warmer clothes for you too" he feigned a smile "sure" she said, smiling back.

-

The pulled into a motel, it appeared empty on the outside but Cole wasn’t going to take any chances. On the passenger seat laid a pump-action shotgun, picking it up and checking the amount of shells inside, he got out of the car. Marion got out as well but he signalled her to sit tight, she slumped back into her chair and watched anxiously for her grandfather to come out. Cole passed through the front door, to his side was the front desk, on the other side a nicely decorated room for paying customers to sit, chat and enjoy a breakfast. He walked inside and looked around, seeing nothing he turned back to be confronted by a small orange cat, he kneeled down “what are you doing in a place like thi-” his words were cut off as a tall man rushed at him from behind the desk, planting his foot into the old mans face. His nose cracked and he fell back, his hand lashed out for the shotgun but the other man kicked it away, Cole felt incredible pressure on his chest as the men stepped on him, then looked up to see the barrel of a magnum pointed in his face. “Who are you and what the hell are you doing here?” Dermot yelled at the old man.