Brass cased and blood lined.
Chapter 1
Ohio
"Death is a very dull, dreary affair, and my advice to you is to have nothing whatsoever to do with it."
Mason Krauss awoke to the sound of pounds at his bedroom door. He just moaned and rolled over as the bangs echoed again and again in his head, like tiny explosions trying to force their way out. He took a deep breath and sighed it out; sitting up as he rubbed his eyes. The previous night flashed through his memory like clips from a movie. Too much Gin, too much Windsor, and too many people he didn't know. He let his head hang back as another chain of pounds shook his door frame.
"What?" Mason moaned. He didn't want to talk to anyone, and he surely didn't want to get up. This was what Saturdays were invented for; hangovers.
"He-y, what are you doin'?" The voice of Tyler Thompson, Mason's best friend, penetrated through the wooden door. He was a good guy to wake up to; even with a hangover.
"I'm sleeping!" Mason wined loudly. He laid back down as his door creaked open. He winced as the light flickered on and Tyler walked in. H walked up to the bed with an evil smile on his face while Mason lay still with his eyes closed.
"Little boy, little boy... wake up." Tyler sighed and put his hands on his hips. He looked over the room; it was a mess. He shook his head. "You live in a pig-sty. Ish."
"Oh, fuck off." Mason rolled over on his side. "Why are you up so early? You drank last night too."
"Yea-h." Tyler said; thoughtfully. "I went home pretty early though. I'm starting to get a little bored with the whole thing. I'm pretty sure its not good for me anyway." He wandered over to Mason's desk. Mason had his laptop and pictures of his family on it. An Ohio Sate University sticker and a big Bold Map of Texas clung to the wall. It was Mason's home-state and he was proud of it. Tyler looked over the city names, slapping his legs energetically as his eyes swept back and forth. He was a Minnesota man and he liked it that way. Mason was used to the warm, mild, same old temperatures and conditions year round. Tyler had to deal with snow.
"Am I suppose to get up?" Mason asked dully; not turning over. "I don't think I'm going to."
"Well you wanna see something weird?" Most of the humor drained from Tyler's face. He had more of a check this out tone as he walked to Mason's TV. He clicked on the power and stepped back with his arms crossed. The sound of the every-day news caster's voice began to erupt from the TV's speakers as Mason watched tiredly.
"If this is another Terrorist attack, I'm joining the Marines."
"Just watch." Tyler hushed him.
"Now we are getting more and more reports coming in of the same thing. The Dead returning to life and attacking the living. Our associate in the Field, David Roer, has more on this unfolding story; David?" The Camera switched to a man standing in the middle of a city street. A line of cop cars with their lights flashing was behind him.
"Kevin, I've been to Kosovo, I've been to Afghanistan, and I've been to Iraq, but NOTHING, and I mean NOTHING compares to this. What we first thought was a hoax seems to have turned into much, much more. It seems, whether from some type of military research or some strange phenomena, the dead... are returning to life and attacking the living.
"I'm standing outside an Apartment complex down-town right now, and Tactical units from both the Sheriff's Department and the Police department have it surrounded. It seems as though-
Tyler turned the mute on and turned to Mason. He raised an eye brow and Mason looked at him with wide eyes.
"Is this serious?" Mason pulled himself up again and put his feet on the floor. He stretched; keeping his eyes on the TV.
"I guess..." Tyler shrugged. "How about that for some Good Morning America?" Mason shook his head and stood up from the bed. Dead people coming back to life? It sounded a lot like another war on terror to him. Just another reason for the American people to put their trust in the government. Oddly enough, an eerie nervousness had crept over his entire being; nearly eliminating his hangover.
"Want to go out to eat?" Tyler asked; energetically. He didn't have the character to take something like this seriously. He was too light-hearted and energetic. While he was interested in what was going on, and what would come of it, he knew that paying too much attention to it would do nothing but distract him from his real problems. He tipped his head; bored.
"Yeah, yeah." Mason responded as he sat up from his mattress. "Let me grab a quick shower."
"All right." Tyler sighed; impatiently. "Hurry up."
Mason showered quick; succumbing to Tyler's orders. Usually he'd just ignore someone's demand for his haste, but there was something about Tyler's personality that he'd always respected. The guy was appropriately laid back, but energetic in social environments. He was intelligent, but wasn't a fuck off. He was capable, but not overbearing. If there was any negative at all it was that he was a little impatient. Everyone had their kinks.
When he was done in the shower, Mason pulled on a fresh pair of Dickies Jeans and a black t-shirt and stepped in front of the bathroom mirror. He fixed his medium length brown-hair and flexed his muscles. He smiled at himself amiably and began brushing his teeth. Tyler and him were big boys. Having a College fitness center helped too, but he still wasn't happy. He needed to be ungodly big before his appetite would be satisfied. He wiped the toothpaste foam from his face and opened the bathroom door. Tyler looked at him; annoyed and impatient.
"Geez, did ya have to take a poop err what?"
"Pfft, I was in there for like ten minutes." Mason shook his head and smiled smartly as he stepped past Tyler and walked up to his roommate, Eddy's, room. He knocked on the door and opened it a crack. "Hey Eddy, I'm going out to eat. See you later." He closed the door and turned to Tyler who was snickering and shaking his head.
"What's so funny?" Mason crossed his arms casually.
"Eddy's gone. Everyone's gone." Tyler huffed. "I had to let myself in."
"Weird." Mason frowned. "Where are we eating?"
The two young men decided on Perkins as a good place to eat and they hopped into Tyler's 94 Cadillac. It was oddly still outside; like the way it was before a Tornado. It was... creepy.
Tyler pulled the Cadillac onto the road and took a left. For 1:30 in the afternoon, there was a lot of traffic. Tyler swore as a woman cut him off and sped off ahead of them.
"Geez, sure is a lot of action today." Mason rolled down his window and rested his arm on it. He stuck a cigarette in his mouth with his free hand and lit the end. He took a deep drag. "Don't see this much traffic around one very often."
"Everyone's already going crazy." Tyler said; obviously not pleased. "It's like 9/11 all over again."
"Cops" Mason motioned ahead of them with his head. At least five Squad cars cut across the intersection a block ahead of them. A few more followed suit. "A lot of fucking cops. Shit."
Tyler gripped his steering wheel hard. Something was very wrong and he had a feeling that this was just the beginning of it.
The rest of the drive was the same as the beginning. A lot of cop cars, and ambulances with their blinking lights and a lot of traffic accidents. It was a big avalanche of shit and it stank bad.
Tyler pulled the Cadillac into the "Perkins" Parking-Lot and parked it close to the door. There weren't a lot of cars there. Maybe 5. They casually walked inside and seated themselves. Mason ordered coffee while Tyler ordered his standard Mountain Dew. It was all the usual.
"I think we should go to Eric's." Tyler ran his hand through his dirty-blond, curly hair and then scratched his beard. He yawned without taking his eyes off of Mason.
"Good call." Mason nodded. "If the shit really hits the fan, we'll have nothing to worry about then."
Eric was their guns-up military buddy. He wasn't actually in the military, but he could fool a professional. His main hobby was gun collecting. He was Tyler's best friend since high school, and an avid sportsman. Both of them were from Minnesota. He'd be happy when they arrived. He liked having the company.
"Yeah..." Tyler trailed off. "I think the shit is just starting to hit the fan, and a whole bunch more shit is just waiting for its turn. I don't like where this is going." Tyler watched through the window behind Mason's back as another string of Cop cars whizzed by.
"Seriously?" Mason shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. "Well, ok. I'll follow your lead."
"Excuse me, Gentlemen." Tyler and Mason looked up as their Waitress came back. She looked meek and apologetic. "I hate to tell you this, but our cook took off. In fact..." She looked around. "I think I'm the only one here now."
Tyler looked around curiously and grunted; expressing his agreement with her statement. Mason did the same; taking notice that Tyler and him were the only two customers left as well.
"Hey, don't worry about it honey." Tyler took his wallet out and handed her a twenty dollar bill. He winked at here. "Thanks for trying." He motioned toward Mason. "Let's go."
The two young men climbed out of their booth, said goodbye to the young lady, and headed for the door. It was time to get the hell out of dodge and they'd been bullshitting for long enough.
Mason lit another smoke as they walked to the car. As he brought the lighter to the end of the cigarette, a sudden, huge crashing sound caused him to drop his lighter and spin around. On the street, not 50 yards from him, a pickup had slammed into a small Grand Prix, nearly destroying the tiny vehicle. As Tyler and him stared with their mouths open, vehicles continued on their way; simply weaving around the mess that had unfolded in the road before them. No one stopped to help.
"Holy shit..." Mason said; in shock. He fumbled in his pocket for his cell-phone. "Holy fucking shit." He dialed 911 and put the phone up to his face. As a recorded message began to play, he swore and stuck the phone back in his pocket. He turned to Tyler; he too was on his phone. Tyler shook his head; He wasn't getting through either.
"Fuck it." Tyler put his phone in his pocket and fished out his keys. He pushed the "unlock" button and opened the Driver's door. He climbed in and looked at Mason who was still staring at the vehicle. His jaw had dropped open seemingly wider than before. He slowly raised his hand and pointed at the wreckage.
"They're... they're getting out." Mason stuttered. Tyler's eyes darted to the accident. A man was slowly dragging himself out of the Grand Prix. One of his arms was hanging loosely; held on only by some ragged, torn flesh. Too add to what seemed like an already unbearably gory sight, a piece of debris was sticking out of his chest.
"Get in the car." Tyler said firmly, flatly. He sounded on the verge of panic. The wounded man seemed to have locked his gaze on them and was shuffling toward them. It looked like one of his legs may have been broken or fractured as well. An oddly empty moan erupted from the man's voice box.
Mason took a few steps backward and picked up his lighter; not taking his eyes from the man. A little more hastily, he walked to the car's passenger-side door and swung it open. He climbed in silently and Tyler backed the car out of its parking spot.
Tyler shifted into "drive" and slowly rolled the car toward the dead man. He was in the middle of the parking lot; reaching toward the car. Tyler wove around him and sighed as he got onto the road and drove around the twisted wreckage of the two vehicles. He punched the accelerator as they got onto the southward street leading to Eric's place and opened his window; leaning back as cool air hit him.
"That guy was fucking dead." Mason said anxiously. His eyes were scanning the street side nervously. If there was one, then there would be more. Then again, maybe the guy was just looking for help. He could have been. He could have been just hurt really bad and-
"He sure fucking was. Did you see his face?" Tyler cleared his throat uncomfortably and slowed the car to a stop at a red light. As he patted his hand against the steering wheel, a few cars passed them; ignoring the red light and thoughtlessly cutting through the intersection.
"All right." Tyler mumbled and accelerated as Mason fumbled for another cigarette. He rolled through the red light and coughed as he glanced around for any cops that may have been watching. Apparently they were all busy.
"I'm opting for his AKM-47S with the under-folding stock." Mason said through a puff of smoke. He huffed aggressively and shook his head; trying to sum up as much testosterone and aggression as possible. He took a deep breath and sighed as they sped down the road. He had to calm down "Five hour shifts, one at a time. Bar the back door, cover the windows... Oh and I want a 45 auto too. Fuck all that 9mm bullshit. You hearing me?" Mason was speaking out of nervousness and anxiety. He tended to chatter when things got crazy; especially when cops were around. He was handling himself well considering the circumstances.
"Yeah, I'm just going to stick with whatever he's got for a shotgun." Tyler's eyes locked onto Eric's house two blocks down from them. "I just want to keep it simple. None of that... rail stuff and all of that." Tyler wrinkled his face in discontent as he slowed the car. As he began to pull into the back alley, a pickup spun out and took off in the opposite direction.
"Looks like SOMEBODY stopped by." Mason tossed his cigarette butt onto the gravel and put his hands in his pockets. He scanned his surroundings slowly; trying to see absolutely anything and everything. It was quiet, if you counted out all the sirens in the distance. He shivered as he thought about his mom and dad. His dad would no doubt have the house turned into a fortress. He had more guns than the Sheriff's Department, plus his dad was friends with the Sheriff. Mason knew they'd be ok. He just wished he'd decided to take some guns with him when he'd moved all the way to Ohio to go to college. He was regretting his decision not to.
"Doors open." Tyler said as he walked passed Mason onto the sidewalk toward Eric's back door. "He never leaves anything opened." He ran up the concrete steps to the doorway and pushed the door inward as Mason approached behind him.
"Fu-ck me..." Tyler said as the inside of Eric's apartment was revealed. It was a mess. Everything was turned over and on the floor. Including some blood. "Eric!" Tyler stepped in cautiously. Keeping his eyes wide open; scanning back and forth. Mason stepped in behind him. His face twisted with rage when he saw the mess.
"Motherfuckers!" Mason spat. His hands clenched into fists. "I bet it was that pickup! I fucking bet it was!"
Tyler hushed Mason quietly and stepped into the kitchen. He looked left, down the thin hall. Eric's room was at the end, on the right.
"Dude..." Tyler began down the hall; slowly. "Dude, you in there?" A TV was playing loudly, but there was nothing else audible. Just Reporters' Voices.
"You have to shoot them in the head. It seems to be the only way to make them stay dead for good. The Police Commissioner has confirmed this report, but is insisting that civilians do not exercise any forms of vigilantism. And added that anyone taking the law into their own hands will be met with lethal force."
Tyler swung Eric's door in and gasped. Eric was lying on the floor, breathing in ragged gasps. There was blood everywhere. He darted to Eric's body and kneeled next to him. He grabbed his hand as tears began to run down his cheeks. It looked like he'd been stabbed about twenty times. He'd been there for at least a few minutes.
"Don't worry dude!" Tyler held back a sob. "Don't worry. Everything's going to be cool. Just keep breathing."
Mason kneeled down and looked, overwhelmed, at all the wounds. He didn't know which one to plug. He pulled his phone out again and dialed 911. He got the same recorded message and swore as he stuck it back in his pocket.
As Mason mumbled desperate swears, and Tyler gripped his hand desperately, Eric weakly pointed at his night-stand. He muttered something and blood ran out of his mouth, down his chin.
"What, what do you want?" Tyler leaned in; putting his ear close to Eric's mouth. "Tell me man."
"Fuckin'... pistol!" Eric spat with his last bit of energy and his body seemed to go ragged. He sighed lightly and his pupils widened, twisting his gaze into an accusing-stare. He was dead.
"O-h... o-h!" Tyler got up and grabbed his hair. His eyes bulged and he twisted his body violently away from his best friend's dead body. "O-h fuck... O-h no! No, no, no!" He shook his head, denying this reality entry into his brain. It couldn't be real, it couldn't be happening to him.
Mason dried the tears from his eyes and reached for Eric's night stand. He opened the single-drawer and reached inside. The edge of his hand bumped a small box and his fingers felt the grip of a revolver. He grabbed the revolver with one hand and the box with the other. It was a box of 38 caliber rounds. He opened it and nodded. There were ten rounds in the box, and six rounds in the gun. It was better than nothing.
"Is he going to... come back?" Mason's eyes went from Tyler to Eric, back and forth. He quickly attached the 38 Caliber Pistol's holster on his hip and slowly cocked the hammer as Tyler looked at Eric's body.
Tyler grunted hard, giving a bit of a grrr and shook his head. With red eyes, he locked onto Mason. He was enraged and it was obvious. He rubbed his eyes and stepped around Eric's motionless body. He reached out his hand.
"Give it to me." Tyler said; his voice on the edge of rage. His hands were visibly shaking. It was his duty to take care of his best friend. If he was going to come back, it would be Tyler that sent him to Heaven. Not some Rambo-wannabe, or some random Joe from down the street. He had to.
Mason nodded and handed Tyler the pistol. He knew both Eric and Tyler very well. He hung out with them the most. The situation had just become much more grim than it had been minutes before. No one wants to kill their friend, especially after already having to go through the pain of watching them die. Mason's shoulders slouched and he turned away. The people from the car crash had been out in a few moments. Eric would most likely do the same.
To Tyler's horror, Eric sat up. His face was pale and lifeless, along with an empty gaze. He aimed the pistol.
"Eric... Eric, talk to me. Come on man." Tyler's hands shook as he centered the revolver's sights on Eric's head. He hoped to God that Eric would recognize him. Maybe, by the grace of God, he would be just the same old gung-ho guy... just dead. Eric moaned as his eyes locked onto Tyler and he began to stand up.
Tyler squeezed the trigger and the revolver barked and jumped in his hand. Eric's head lurched back and he tumbled into the same position he'd been in before. His eyes wide open and dead. This time for good.
Mason turned to Tyler after the gun-smoke had cleared. Tyler's head hung low. He was staring at his feet. There were no tears, just silence. He put his hand on Tyler's shoulder and squeezed.
"Let me be alone with him for a minute." Tyler choked. He had a lot to say to his lifelong best friend before he left forever. He didn't want Mason standing there, making it awkward.
"Anything you want." Mason said softly. He wanted to cry more than anything in the world, but he couldn't force anymore tears out. He took a step toward the door. "I'm going to check on his stuff in the basement. Holler if you need me." He disappeared through the door.
"Remember that time," Tyler sat down on the bed; avoiding looking at Eric's assaulted body, "We were going out to Al's place and I threw that m80 out the window..." he laughed a bitter laugh, "And it came in the back window and landed in your lap." He shook his head. "And then we stuck that pipe bomb I made in that tree and it didn't go off so we just left it and when were making the fire it blew up and blew the tree in half." He shook his head; smiling at the memory. "I'm going to miss you, you know? There's really no way I can put it into words..." His eyes went to the dime sized hole in Eric's head. "I'm sorry..." He whispered. "I'm so sorry." He cleared his throat and went out the door. He had to leave now. He had to make it home.
Mason met Tyler at the top of Eric's stairway. Mason had a pissed off look printed on his face. His eyes were bloodshot and he was sweating.
"Motherfuckers took everything. Even the fucking 22's!" Mason clenched his jaw. "If we'd been one minute faster! One fucking minute we could have killed those fuckers!" He screamed in rage.
Tyler clenched his fists and punched the wall; puncturing the plaster and leaving a ragged hole. He stared into it like a dark abyss and his face twisted into a scowl.
"We have to go... now." Tyler looked at Mason. "I'm going home."
"Right." Mason nodded. "Let's go."