Zombies Hunter; New Sunrise Part 1

 

New Sunrise

 

Jimmy Loong

July 2013

 

1.

The colonies of New England were rockier and colder than the other colonies. They also had a narrower coastal plain than the colonies. The first people to arrived there were the survivors of the biohazard war. They had no place to go, as the borders of New England ended up against the open sea. Farming was not an option with contamination, but they found the fishes were healthy to be consumed. The plains of the ground allowed them a view of the enemies before it reached their homes. It was then New England had found its future; the last bastion for the survivals of the zombie infested continent. It was ideal to name the house; Last Drinking Post as it was the only standing structure out here on the plains which we could take refuge. After all, I did stored the only available wines within five hundred miles radius inland. I had them collected from around the neighboring states and kept them in the most ideal condition in the cellar. My prized possession was the large barrel from Virginia state; prime and darned good crop that year.

My name is Jimmy, never had a last name; was raised in a foster home with nine adopted siblings and one abusive parent. I slugged it out through adolescent and assumed leadership in my young adult days. I learned to kill with my bare hands when I was five; darned chicken were tough bastards then. Since then, I had moved from domestic to national ranking with kills that ranged from pit bulls to wild gun toting bastards. Name me a fight and I would showed you the scars. I operate this last place out of derelict looking two levels brick house outside the safe walls. It ain't much of a home, with its hinged off windows and scarred paintworks but its safe. I got Billy and Milly on the roof; holding vigil for the clients or the solitary aimless dead minded zombies. They are twins born within a few minutes; caused their mum to die from blood loss, but they are bloody shooters. I had them armed with the Winchesters Model 70 complete with scope; lightweight synthetic stock and the twenty four inch barrel. The rifle weighed under seven lbs and chambered in .30-06. Its a sure kill at five hundred yards.

On the perimeter on his horse was my Texas buddy, Ian Shane who cover the mile radius for any crawling varmints. He was twice my age, bespectacled but held a fast draw Colt on his right side of his belt, or if need be the foot long hunting blade could removed any bad intentions. Ian does not stopped there as he also had on his back the Colt M4 carbine fitted with 'Aim-point' red-dot sight with the single fragment grenade on his chest pocket for that last second throwaway gift before death. He also have a sawn off double barrel shotgun on his saddle for any close up.

In my bar, next to me, would be Sally; my waitress and counter help. She's an amazon with her towering height of over six foot nine, wrestled in the rings with others of her breed, and known to thrown out more men of her bed for bad performance. She was normally dressed in the lowered zipper blouse with matching tight skirts and trainer shoes. On her back would be the foot long machete and in placed of her chesty bosom was the twin grenades stored in the full cups of her bra. For her backup, she had a .38 short stub on her garter belt; she named it her secondary dildo for bad days.

In the kitchen was my cook and personal friend, Uncle Bob; like Ian was past his prime in years but not his ability. He can ruffled up a delicious baked fish dish with the self growth herbs he had grown in the box garden with uncontaminated soil. Bob carried no guns but his cooking knives around his slim belt waist are real choppers and skewers. He was known for his cleaver; the saying was you won't feel nothing after its chopped. When he was not cooking, he was dressed in an apron with the poster of a radioactive contamination warning. It was sanctioned but we preferred he wore some clothes beneath the apron.

With my compliment of staff, you would had thought that the place would be a fortress but that was not to be on one cold morning. We had the splashing of blood to flood a tub over the rim.

 

2.

It was just another morning, with Billy doing the night shift had buggered down only one solitary zombie. Ian was saddling his mare for the morning trot while Bob was hitching up his pants. He was watching Sally still on the bed, stretching herself after a morning rumble. You can't deny Bob can give any Colonel a good licking on any day and Sally would attest to it in a sworn affidavit. I was still on my solitary cot upstairs watching the ceiling creaked. It was probably Milly getting up to do her turn on the watch. I was dreaming of my life back then in the younger days; bashing the lads and humping the girls. It was good those days, but with the contamination, all was gone. Its a hellhole we are in, and the lucky ones get either killed or shipped off to the other continent. Its a sad thing, as only one in ten get shipped while the unlucky ones tries their luck by swimming or suicide. It matters not to the others as they need to keep us from contaminating them.

The bells clanged on the rood; that was our warning for visitors.

I got up and dressed up quick; round neck shirt with denims for jacket and slacks tucked into a set of heavy boots. I pulled on the shoulder harness and holstered in the twin Glock Nine with the foot long ice pick in my right boot. I went downstairs and out the front door. I walked the long wooden bridge way build by Ian to received the guests as he termed it.

 I was joined Ian who had not rode off yet, holding his M14A1 cradled on the elbow. From the distance, I could make out the convoy of vehicles including SUV and even one long silver limousine. It was a convoy of five vehicles seldom seen together but it was there. They were doing top speed over the uneven terrain and does not cared about any rabbit holes on the route.

I knew all of them singularly but hardly knew they travel in a pack.

The vehicles lined up in a row on the front lawn

The first vehicle was the SUV of a far east manufacturer, favored by its occupants; the Asian descent hunter family, Soon comprising father, mother, two sons and one sister. They are searching for their lost grandmother and any lost relatives or ending their misery if they have been contaminated. The second vehicle was the Humvee; eight cylinder diesel with 4x4 works driven by a pair of Nordic kins; Bjorn and Brigid Soderstrom, direct descendants of the Vikings and bad asses to meet on the road. They had this poster of the Ultimate Zombie Warrior pasted on their Humvee hood. They idolized the man in the poster like Stan Lee was to the Marvel fans. 

The third vehicle was a long silver limousine driven by an ex-pimp, his guard and his lady in waiting. They were from Pittsburgh and made the annual trip to seek out our rivals who had turned mindless. His name was Pierre; reckon he had French blood although he looked darker, with his personal guard, Tiffin; built like one except this one shoots bullets. His lady in waiting was Stephanie; forty inches long legs and equal distribution on the weight on the chest with a mean B&D preference. She was always seen with a biohazard gas mask and seldom removed it. Sally commented that she was a heavy breather for being too long in the trade.

The fourth vehicle was the three tonnes military truck with armored sides, and housed a family of hunters'; Pa, Mom, and three sons named the Henderson. The last was a hijacked armored truck that was used to transport gold bars but now housed a trio of prison inmates from Federal Penitentiary of Virginia. Unlike the inmates, these are older inmates named Tom, Dick and Harry. They had escaped the contamination as they were busy trying to dig through the laundry room but ended up in the armory instead. That saved their asses from other abuses.

"Jimmy, we were waylaid by a group of them 'zomlies'" It how's Senior Soon named them. "They are coming on this way."

The Soon siblings were unloading their stuffs from the SUV and laying it on the ground. I could see that they had been busy; gold coated items lined the crates. 

"Heck, them mindless gone bonkers or we are faced with the new breed." That was Pittsburgh talking as he exited from the limo with his dance shoes and pink suit complete with fedora hat lined with ostrich furs. His personal guard stepped out holding a M-40 with both hands and the bandoleer hanging over the shoulder. His bitch stepped out later from the other door with leather wear and heels while holding on a long katana blade. On her waist line was two more shorter blades with a set of knives on her left forearm.

"Sit it, Pumpkin." Inmates Dick hates these pretzels who was his bane behind bars. They ply their trade anywhere and on anyone. "They are not mindless; they are driven by a scent or signal over here."

"I trust Dick theory. He was a bio-chemist professor before he was arrested." Harry answered for Dick as the former was his bank roller on those poorly dished out food supplements. He was handling out the shotguns and rifles from the rear of their truck. Tom was past speaking then as he was busy arming himself.

"Pa saw them too and followed the limo. We reckon you would know something." Sid Henderson was talking then as he pimped the bullets into the Winchester model 700 rifle. "Marty and myself going to go up there and watched for them."

The two brothers then holding a rifle each ran up the hill. I was not surprised that Mom did not stopped them; she raised them tough and brave. I whistled to Milly to assist on the lookup. Ian walked to the corral next to the house and saddled up two more horses. He had five of them in his barn; for the rides, one stallion and four mares. They all fed from the hay strewn on the abandoned Ford truck of some farmers in the corral left there a long time ago. Sometimes on nicer dusk, Ian may be seen on the truck doing a pelvis impersonation for his horses. He claimed it helped them to stud with the stallion.

"Waterloo.... " Them crazy Nordic kins were humming as they checked their wares for what to carry into the house.

"Hey. I got rooms for only two paying customers. There are five of you and we ain't got no couch for rental." I raised up my hands but they were past listening to me. They just paraded into the bridge and made their way to the house. I gave up as what I lack in rooms, I have food and wines.

If they have the gold to pay.