Dead Fall: Reboot?

[wayzim]

Since the original Dead Fall debuted on this site back in the late 90's, due to various Real Life factors, only seven side-stories were completed in what should've been a much longer series. Part of this was a relentless( read, Obsessive )dedication to getting Preservation of A Species: The Novel, done and making the rounds. That was ultimately an abortive effort, tho I'm technically just over half way through the 11th first draft. While currently I've submitted work in other even more fringe genres to various fiction sites, this has always been my favorite place to post. That being said, I have here, part of a work in progress, tongue in cheek, which postulates a Zack Snyder rework of the original Dead Fall. Hopefully it will lead to reviving the original series, as well as other work. Thanks for your support. Deadfall: Reboot. By Wayne Zimmerman. The Place: Somewhere along The Eastern Seaboard. The Time: Whenever. It was a cityscape in shambles. The fires had long gone out but the burnt ruins stayed as a testament to the great holocaust. Only scattered areas escaped the flames, among them a commercial refueling depot which stood in disuse, many of its reservoirs pumped dry. Some time had past, years perhaps, since the last panicked refugees had topped off their tanks, desperate to escape the slavering threat which had overwhelmed most of Humanity. Those left behind were isolated communes, each trying to hold back the ever increasing enemy. But that was before … Previously, the area was quiet, save for random sounds from stubborn Nature, its wildlife moving cautiously through the decimated urban zones. Today, however, there was a different noise, the finely tuned roar of an engine as a silver SUV barreled its way up the long road to the fenced enclosure. This overproduced icon to privileged consumption had been transformed down the long haul, its elegant lines reinforced with armor and otherwise loaded for Bear. It had withstood harsh miles on a dangerous trek to nowhere, its driver and passengers as hardened as their battered yet unbroken vehicle. Tearing through the open gate of the worn wire mesh fence, the road jockey slammed the shrill brakes defiantly, their screech reverberating among the small clutch of buildings within the compound. It skidded to a stop as a quartet of practiced survivors leapt from their mobile sanctuary. One of their number, a tall lean muscular man, scanned the vicinity with eagle eyes. His freshly shaved head pivoted slightly to acknowledge the petite, buff, raven haired woman beside him, both holding machine pistols close to their sides. “It looks empty, abandoned … “ she murmured in that gruff yet still sexy voice he admired. Within the brief silence, a breath was held. This was before Hell erupted from the open doorways before them. Six things, barely recognizable as once Human, tore across the asphalt as if launched from a sling. All were supernatural in their desire to rip and tear. The excited eyes focused upon their prey as frothing jaws gnashed in eager anticipation of the kill. Their primal confidence, however, was surpassed by fully automatic weapons which voiced their displeasure with thundering certainty. But even as the four living beings stood back to back, the decrepit creatures, These … Hungry Dead, showed a few tricks of their own. “Damn it! Shouted the Man, as a nearby target sprinted up the corrugated side of a ramshackle office with the skill of some demented acrobat! Apparently this rotting abomination was ignorant of this little thing called ‘Gravity. ‘ “I hate Runners! “ It gained the roof, its beady stare from within shrunken eye sockets considering The Man before it leapt! As he stepped back, anticipating a messy end, the Reanimate suddenly disintegrated midair as several explosive rounds shredded the Undead. At the edge of his periphery, the fighter saw his partner give him a wink and a taut nervous grin. “Not so fast now. “ The Woman’s quip was eclipsed by a high pitched shout from a rail thin teen girl, hitting her sometimes boyfriend hard on his left shoulder. “Shia! The Fence! “ The tousle haired gangly youth swung right to catch two extremely moldy creatures clinging to the fence, their pus covered flesh glistening in the late afternoon light. His girl grabbed his arm once more and Shia gleaned her meaning as she raised her gun. As one the pair pulverized the creatures so totally that fine strands of flesh dangled on the wire like confetti. He turned to chastise The Girl, only to come up short as another thing loped across the yard like some overripe puppy dog. He saw that she was too busy to notice, attempting to force loose a spent round that was stuck. Shia engaged the monster head on, mindful of its intense fetid breath as he plugged away at it with a small pistol, hastily pulled from his waistband.