Hello again to anyone that has read the first installment in the series! If you have not, Read the first one here. Lets see what Bill is up to…
Vietnam,1967
“Get your asses on to the MG’s! GO GO GO!,” The squad leader shouted, as he heard enemies approaching. Bill rushed over to an MG as quickly as he could. “HERE THEY COME!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. The first few came through from the right flank, and were immediately gunned down by the two MG’s. Then all hell broke loose. They streamed in from every corner of the jungle in front of the trenches, screaming, shooting, and running into a bloodbath. Bill kept firing the gun, mowing down row upon row of them. Then his ammo feeder was hit, and he was stone cold dead. Bill resorted to keeping the ammo feeding with one hand, and shooting with the other. The men in the trench behind him were shooting some of the ones that the other gunners missed, including Bill. Bill looked aside for just a second to check his ammo and was suddenly knocked to the ground. He looked and saw the man over him about to smash his face in. Bill rolled and tripped the other man. The man was stunned, and while he was, Bill pulled out his side arm and shot him in the head, point blank range. He got back up to see-
Southern California, 2008
Bill was woken up by an emergency broadcast signal. It, in layman’s terms, told everyone to grab every weapon they had and run like hell. Getting up from his easy chair, he searched around his house for his uniform from the army, for reasons unknown even to himself. He couldn’t find it on the first floor, and he looked with hatred towards the stairs.
“I hate stairs.”
He slowly walked up the stairs, his legs not enjoying the experience. Joints creaking, he reached the top landing. He looked in some old crates in his bedroom closet, and there was his uniform. There were three separate tears in the back, it was dirty, and the beret was inside-out. He smacked the hat back into its normal shape. He walked down the hall to his gun cabinet, and inspected what he had.
“An assault rifle! This brings me back.”
Blood on my hands. Squad gone. Alone. Alone…
Bill shook off the flash back and took as much ammo as he could fit into his pockets. He opened his front door, and ran into the war zone for the second time in his life.
World in Flames
He stepped out in the early twilight hours, and visibility was limited. Cars on fire, barrels burning, all the light mysteriously absent from the world. He started walking down the street, which was in a state that can be best described as reality fractured, and the shards thrown around like so many bits of glass. He spectated this grim reality, hardening himself for what was to come. He decided to walk further down the road towards Edith’s house. He knew that John may have kept his old gear, and may be he was heading out too. Bill walked slowly, for his joints were acting up in this cold weather, and he wasn’t particularly interested in wasting energy for no good reason.
Then, in a bizarre fashion, someone walked out a busted open door of a small house into the street.
“Hey! Are you ok!” Bill yelled.
He only received a mumbled groan in reply. He continued towards the person since there was no real way around them. As he moved closer to the person, the mist in the distance revealed a whole group of people, just standing there, stumbling awkwardly, as if in a drunken stupor. Bill then realized something was deeply wrong. Their hands are covered in blood. He kept his assault rifle aimed at the crowd as he drew closer.
“What are you people doing? You should be getting out of here!” He said.
The crowd came to look at him, and they started to groan, almost inhumanly. One woman screeched and ran towards Bill. Bill, not sure exactly if the crowd was even human anymore, shot her in the leg. She fell to the ground, and stayed there for a few seconds. Something was amiss about this woman. She slowly got back up to her feet, and ran at Bill and attempted to claw at his face with her nails. Bill, dodging the attack, thought, “What in gods name are these things? She just took a bullet the leg and got back up!” The crowd started to notice Bill much more than they already had, and started to walk torwards him. Still fending off the woman, he noticed the crowd was moving towards him. He had no choice but to hit the woman away with the butt of his gun, and she fell to the ground, bleeding. He had a sudden urge to run. Backing up, the woman aparrently knocked out, he realised that the woman was just a sign of things to come. He started to fire warning shots, trying to scare them back.
They… they just keep coming… they dont stop, they dont goddamn stop!
With this thought, Bill met his foe for the first time. He decided that it was either him or them, and he had no choice but to kill them. He started to fire into the crowd, and this provoked them into a rage. They started running towards Bill with an intent that can only be described as-
Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of…
-the right flank overrun, and the left barely holding out. He heard dying men’s screams as they were shot, beaten down, or otherwise slaughtered. Bill scrambled to get to the trench above him on the hill, turning around and shooting wildly at anything that came out of the jungle. He came over the trench wall, and landed next to a dead man. He ignored him and asked the man hiding under the trench wall why he wasn’t shooting. The man just stayed where he was, curled up, crying. Bill gave up on him and turned around and peered above the wall. The enemy seemed to be thinning out, and were starting to retreat. But when Bill looked back down the trench, he saw-
Holdout
Bill slumped inside the house exhausted. He couldn’t exactly remember what happened, but all he knew was that he was safe. He started to look around the place, trying to find supplies. He found a few cans of beans and soup. He searched around for a can opener, but the kitchen produced nothing that could be used as a opener. He put the cans aside and started to build rudimentary barricades on the window. He stacked a mattress against one of the upstairs window, and lodged a chair in the other. The downstairs windows were harder to bar. He attempted to put the table against one, but it was useless trying to lodge it in a position that was viable. He heard the sound of a car in the distance, followed by a loud crash and a large noise that sounded like metal crunching. Then he heard the sound of many voices screaming at once. He knew this wasn’t a sign of anything good. Then he heard footsteps outside the door, and he opened the door just a slight crack. He saw a black man running towards the house. The man was almost to the door when Bill opened it and pulled him in. He-
Survive
-a tell tale flare from the enemy signaling another attack. It was like a flood, enemies streaming out of the jungle, and he was all alone against them. He tried to shoot them, but they ran over each other’s dead bodies. Every obstacle, no matter what, they just kept coming. Bill kept shooting, just firing down the trenches. He stumbled backwards over a dead body, and the enemy was upon him. Like a mob, they started punching him, kicking him, just pounding away at his body. He tried to shield himself from the blows, but with so many, it was futile. His vision started to go blurry at the edges and he started to feel cold. But then, suddenly, they started dying. Falling down around him, the mob started to clear. He could finally see. He yelled for help from his unknown savior, saying “Help me up!”
The man came over and started to pick him up, saying “Come on old man, lets get up, lets get up!”
Bill replied “What is your name anyway son?”
“It’s Louis”
“Well Louis, I’m Bill, Lets keep moving.”
