Chapter XVIII

CHAPTER XVIII
GRAVEYARD

Garrison’s body jolted straight as an arrow, back to its original position. The Glock pistol firmly in hand, the fiery Lieutenant scoured the immediate area for the mysterious sound. Muffled grunting filtered throughout the dark. This place definitely was scarier than any of the foreign places Garrison had stormed into with Logan.
The rain powered up for another pounding upon the colony. The muck slowed Garrison’s trek considerably, causing the seasoned war veteran to compromise his situation. With every step, his feet would become entangled in the thick conglomeration of mud and decaying bodies.
Garrison had stumbled into the colony’s expansive graveyard. He barely had any room to maneuver his way through the collection of dead corpses that were strewn about. Others started to wash away underneath their shallow graves due to the rain’s heavy current. Garrison whirled his Glock around trying to secure the area. A flash of white lightning would only allow brief glimpses into the vast darkness. Wandering about the muddy graves, Garrison’s foot stumbled upon another body. Losing his balance, Garrison tripped and splashed headlong into a collection of dead colonists.
“Mother…,” he started to grumble.
His limbs became entangled between the corpses, dampening his chances of escaping through the area unscathed. Writhing about on his back, Garrison felt an unusual tug on his left shin.
He alertly fished out his pocket flashlight, and rested it atop the Glock. Garrison then illuminated the immediate area of interest.
A pair of grimy, curled fingers started to claw their away along Garrison’s left shin. The nails dragged about Garrison’s fatigues, slowly tearing the fabric.
Garrison angrily unleashed a forceful kick to the arm trying to separate it from his leg. Another flail and the dying colonist rolled along the ground into a pile of other decaying bodies.
Another set of hands sadistically grabbed him roughshod by the neck and started to claw and dig away at the fresh skin, surprising the distracted Lieutenant.
Garrison brutally beat upon his attackers gnarled hands, managing to withdraw the assailants nails from inside his neck. Blood screamed to the surface, gushing out of his wound.
Attempting to rise, Garrison was tugged down by more colonists, that were embedded into the mud.
“Save us!” they murmured. “Help us!”
Garrison started to lose control on the situation. He lowered the Glock, aiming it directly into the pack of swarming colonists. He was writhing around the muck, sinking with every twist and turn. His finger clenched the trigger and released a shot into his intended target.
The colonist that had Garrison by the ankles moved slightly to the right upon seeing the weapon, and escaped the barreling bullet.
The bullet ripped into Garrison’s left foot, shattering the bone upon impact.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” Garrison screamed in agonizing pain.
“Did you hear that?” Logan snapped his head around to Alethea and Zartan.
“That gunshot? Yes, I heard it.” Zartan nodded his head.
“Where did it come from?” Logan tried in vain to locate the shot in the darkness.
“It sounded like it came from the western end of the colony.” Alethea kept a watchful eye on the child’s condition.
“The graveyard,” Zartan repeated. “That is where I buried my son. I will go and investigate.”
Logan reached for his binoculars, pressing them against his face. He kept searching the darkness, unable to locate the gunshot’s location.
Garrison rolled left and right, grasping at his damaged foot. Using his elbows, he managed to brace himself up, dragging himself along the graveyard and away from the colonists.
His itchy finger let another round off. This one bore a hole into one of the colonist’s chests, fracturing their ribs upon impact, and driving deep into their heart, instantly killing the crawling man.
“Take that,” Garrison growled back. His eyes watched in horror, as the remainder of the colonists convulsed violently as steady streams of blood poured out of their mouths and eyes.
“What is this fucking place?” Garrison chided.
“Sir,” a voice echoed in the eerie rainstorm.
“What?” Garrison whirled his head around.
Zartan stood above the wounded Lieutenant. “Let me help you out of here.” He stretched out his arm for assistance.
“Can I trust you?”
“Who are you going to trust out here,” Zartan assured Garrison. “I’ve seen this virus infect my son, and eventually kill him. I have no doubt this truly is the devil’s disease. My name is Zartan.”
“Well, I can certainly agree with that.” Garrison looked around the muddy area. “I’m Lieutenant John Garrison. These colonists resemble something out of the ordinary.”
“Indeed.” Zartan helped Garrison up and assisted him across the haunting graveyard. A series of quick lightning rods illuminated the entire colony, even showcasing the mountaintop off in the distance that harbored an ominous skull atop its ridge.
“How far from the church are we?” Garrison asked.
“Twenty minutes or so. It’s right past the graveyard.”
Garrison limped along, nursing his ankle. “I must say this has been one hell of a night.”
Zartan felt a swelling taking hold inside his body. His eyes started to roll backwards, his muscles contracted, dropping Garrison harshly to the ground. Garrison landed on his ankle, suffering further damage and angst.
“What the hell was that?” Garrison questioned Zartan.
“I found them!” Logan peered through his binoculars. His fervent persistence had finally paid off. “Zartan and Garrison seem to be in trouble. Garrison’s in obvious pain, and Zartan,” Logan broke off in mid-sentence.
“What’s going on?” Alethea begged Logan.
“Zartan’s eyes are rolling around inside his head. His body has started convulsing. He’s feeling the stinging effects of the virus.” Logan gripped his gun and darted for the door.
“I don’t think so.” Alethea blocked off Logan’s exit.
“Get out of my way,” he barked.
“Zartan’s infected and in a few short minutes so will your friend. We need to concentrate on us now.”
Logan hated to admit it, but she was right. His speech about war’s casualties and the emotional attachments came into play here. Garrison was his only true friend. All good things come to and end eventually.
“Damn you,” he scowled at Alethea. Logan stormed back to the open window and again raised the binoculars and witnessed what was about to take place inside the graveyard.
Zartan’s grip on sanity loosened as he turned around and faced Garrison, seemingly ready to attack him. “Help me,” he asked of Garrison.
“What?” Garrison raised his Glock and aimed at Zartan’s chest. “Back off, or I’ll shoot.”
“This virus must’ve altered itself, yes?” Zartan’s words started to slur. He wavered from side to side. “I was only infected a short time ago.”
“Logan, do you copy?” Garrison spoke into his sliding earpiece.
“John are you okay?” Logan’s voice crackled over the communication device. “I can see you through my binoculars.”
“Zartan here has changed. He says the virus had morphed into something else. I wanted to let you know that this antidote might not work now, and Plan B is our only option.” Garrison’s fingers retrieved the black box. “I repeat, Plan B is our only option. I can ignite the colony right now.”
“John.” Logan shook his head in dismay.
“Your call,” Garrison responded.
Zartan reached out for the gun and successfully gained a firm hold on the nozzle.
“Logan, I can’t hold on much longer!” screamed Garrison.
Zartan’s hand wrapped around the weapon, trying to dismantle it from Garrison’s grasp. Garrison let loose on the trigger causing an abrupt jerk that blew through Zartan’s hand, shredding it completely. Blood splattered across Garrison’s wet face, as he stumbled backward from the sudden discharge of the weapon, losing the detonator into the muddy field. Garrison’s earpiece slid off his ear and became buried in the muck beneath him.
Static penetrated on Logan’s end, causing the Captain to wonder what the hell was happening out there. His vision became limited by the intense rain and rolling fog that had swept over the colony.
Zartan teetered before he too toppled over, clutching his bloodied hand, holding it close to his chest.
Crawling over to Zartan’s quivering body, Garrison pushed the nozzle into Zartan’s chest cavity. “I’ll help you alright,” he snarled.
Zartan began to violently heave, causing Garrison to back away a few inches.
“Are you okay?” Garrison’s sense of humanity briefly entered into the situation.
Zartan could feel every organ inside his body melt away into a bloody pool. It was only a matter of time now. His lips slit open a few inches and a lethal mist of blood burst through and into the air, releasing the virus with it.
Garrison managed to duck away from the first cough, evading the immediate infection.
Zartan’s nose swelled as he started to sniff and snort. A sneeze was barreling down his nostrils. The once mighty, towering man, was now a shivering quaking remnant of what he used to be. Zartan rolled around helplessly in the muck a corrupted man from the virus‘s infection.
Garrison closely leaned in inspecting Zartan’s deteriorating condition, seemingly unaware if another round of coughing was amidst. The thickening fog had restrained Garrison’s vision. He again pressed the nozzle firmly into Zartan’s chest and readied his trigger finger. “Rest in piece, my fellow man.” Garrison squeezed off a round into the beating heart of the dying colonist. Nothing happened. The gun’s inexplicable jam stirred Garrison. Perhaps it was from all of the sludge and muck that had sneaked its way into the chamber during Garrison’s scuffles.
The sneeze roared through Zartan’s nostrils discharging a bloody macabre of mucus and phlegm directly into Garrison’s face. Garrison sucked in the bloody mix through his nose and mouth, unable to defend himself from the rampaging virus.
The fog rolled across the ground wrapping around the dead corpses that still littered the fields.
Garrison unable to see Zartan, had decided to unleash the Glock’s contents into his own body. Thinking of Logan and all of the great times they shared, Garrison pointed the pistol inward, and pressed the cold metal against his left temple.
Praying.
Hoping.
Garrison wanted the bullet to escape the chamber and into his body.
BANG!
Garrison wilted from the concave blast. His dying body swayed left to right waiting to collapse with a meek transition into the foggy mist. Zartan would follow moments later, as his liquefied organs spilled from every cavity, emptying its contents onto the ground.
A thunderous crack split the sky in half, allowing ferocious lightning to bombard the colony’s graveyard, displaying its two new entrants, entrenched in their shallow graves.
The Glock became entrapped within Garrison’s tightened grip, as the Lieutenant finally buckled onto his back, listlessly landing upon the softened soil. Garrison’s dead eyes were fixated upon the devilish image high atop the nearby mountaintop. The creepy, misshapen skull seemed to portentously stare down upon the colony‘s doomed inhabitants.