noon of the dead

I squinted out into the sunlight, it burned as the trees had that day so long ago.

I shifted my weight, easing the pain in my knee a little but not much. i spat out over the tanks edge and barked "binoculars."

a pair of heavy binoculars were lain into my gauntleted grasp and i drew them up to my eyes.

walking mindlessly over the scorched dirt the zombies stretched for miles, "HO" , i yelled and the tank came to a halt. it creaked and squealed on wheels long needing oil.

"the great plains, stupid name in my opinion" i said. Mark, my second in command said "at least there flat, he sheilded his eyes with his gloved hand. after survaying for a moment he drew back the bolt on his rifle.

with a steady hand he aimed, the crosshairs flowing from one target to the next, and still he did not shoot.

i turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow, he looked back and said "no need to waste bullets, the ranks are to thin, we could just run um down." i nodded and banged twice upon the metal plates of the tank.

Mark ducked down into the hatch. i pulled free from its holter my pistol, in my other hand i held a broadsword. the caravan of 6 tanks pulled up into a skirmish line.

i pushed onto my head a solid steel helmet, it resembled a corinthian helm like that of old greece. with the hilt of my sword i bashed the metal of the tank onwe more time and the line advanced.

oh nuts...i gotta finish this later.

Very random but it is quite interesting. I would love to see where this is headed and why they have bolt-action rifles, relatively modern tanks (last 50 years or so I am guessing), Corinthian helms, gauntlets and broadswords.

all will be explained, but i'm in school right now so all will be explained later.

when they reached 20 mph the beasts were coming into view. there glassy eyes and bloodsplayed mouths wide. with gurgling screams the stumbled and ran twards the irrisistable scent of human sweat.

one of the suckers ran out infront of the m02 tank and was mercillesly crushed between its treads. more came forward, rushing madly to a pointless death. there was no shooting only crushing, blood burst in clouds as torsos and heads were mashed beneath the steel.

through a rotten tounge one screamed its desires for flesh and lept at the barreling tank. it landed upon the grate upon buckled knees and stumbled to its feet. wobbly it took a step twards me and another.

i lashed out with the viscios blade severing spine and head. the body slumped and fell off the tanks side. i smiled slightly and turned. another zombie lept at me, it had got up while my back was turned.

mouth gaping it rushed at me. i raised my hand in defense and it bit the bronze armguard the bound my arm. stupified it looked at the bronze for a second but was uncermoniously pushed off the side of the tank and into the whirling treads that mangled it beyond repair.

i spat and aimed my pistol at another that was trying to crimb up, every zombie that attempted to get onto the tank was rewarded with a slug to the head.

my fellows on the other tanks did the same, with sword and gun and tread hundreds fell before us. after an hour we came to a large river. i threw open the hatch of my tank and yelled "everyone get inside, to the island!!!"

as the hatches closed zombies began climbing up onto the tanks. they clawed at the metal in a vain attempt to enter it.

in the darkness of the tanks interior i barked orders "radio in, tell everyone to close all exterior openings and prepare to submerge." several 'ayes' greeted the command and all openings on the tank were sealed. "radio forward, tell um we got some violent hitchhikers" the radioman, only 13, nodded and relayed the massage.

the tanks then drove directly into the water. all became silent for a few moments except for the scraping on the steel that the zombies made as the still tried to get in, heedless of the pulling waters.

after a minute the tank began to rumble once more, on dirt or sand. everyone inside the tank was silent. and suddenly the zombies on the outside of the tank became a horrible wail which was cut short by several gouts of rifle fire.

then there was nothing, the tanks had come to a stop and there were no zombies to be heard. a loud rapping struck the hatch 3 times. i replied by striking twice,then opened the hatch, i lept up suddenly, pistol drawn and pointedit into the face of the soldier there, he wore a combat helmet with chain mail running down the sides to cover his neck.

seeing him i climbed out and looked up to see the great walled town of new chaos, one of the few surviving human alliances. i sighed and got out, it has been a long 5 years.

Still quite good! Is the tank real? If so could you direct me to a picture of it? I googled it but didn't get anything...

srry bought the wait, i was grounded...again goddamnit

no not a real tank, the most advanced as of now is the M1A1 abrams tank. google it, a fantastic peice of military technology. some tanks really could submerge like that, not sure if m1 could.

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i pushed myself up out of the tank and spat on the dirt.

"any wounded?" asked the soldier.

i sighed and said "no, perfect mission. we got 40 bags of charcoal, about 90 pounds of sulfer." a smile came to my sorely chapped lips "and an added bonus, we found a handful full of people held up in an apartment complex in some city called "Grand Island""

"tough bunch of bastards, damn near starving and completely boxed in. once we got um' they led us to 5 gas stations that were completely untapped. we filled up all the tanks and had a lot to spare."

hearing this a smile came to his lips. he started "oh, the chopper party did great too. raided a grocery store, a museum, and a steel mill. we have enough metal to creat about 30 more suits of armor."

i hopped out of the tank and stood next to him, we both began walking twards the large iron gates that sat between 10 yard high walls. he continued.

"judging by the amounts of charcoal and sulfer you found we can ground it down into enough gun powder for a thousand shells or so."

the pair turnede around when a cry punctuated the air. a 3 year old child was being pulled out of the tank and had dropped his blanket. he screamed for it as if his life was bound to its familiarity. the two stood there watching the child cradle his blanket.

"this sucks" i said and began walking again.

"well what do you expect? the world belongs to the walkin dead, i'm just glad you got those people and there children out alive, every human counts."

i felt anger growing in my chest "counts? COUNTS? COUNTS?. WHAT THE HEKLL DO WE COUNT FOR? EVERY PERSON IN THIS DAMNED CITY COULD KILL 1000 OF THEM AND ANOTHER 100,000,000 WILL STILL BE THERE TO FIGHT US." i gulped and stalked forward trying to get my thoughts together, a headache began to pound in my head.

a hand clapped my back and its owner said "but if you kill 10,000 than..." and a rifle was pressed into my hands. i looked into vulcans eyes and said. "ready a chopper and hunter killer team we won't be back until everywhere for 10 miles around belongs to humanity"

he nodded and the two passed into the city.

Actually I believe the Germans and British each have a superior type of tank, though I believe they are not classes as MBT's (Main Battle Tank's) so they don't have as many of them. One reason I believe the British have a better one is they have a tank with second generation CHABAM armor, whereas an M1A2 has first generation CHABAM. I think the Germans currently have the most powerful tank gun, so they probably have a superior tank.

Still quite interesting, keep up the good work Master of the Puppets!

great story, btw i've updated the last bunker. also one question, why are you grounded so often ~D

i am a bad person ~:)

DEFY ALL AUTHORITY
hey, that should be in my sig

oh and also, yes america does not have the superior tanks, we leave that to great britain ~D , not so sure about the german one...i'll do some research

hahahaaha just like me, only they know grounding doesnt work for me. hhehheheheh.

NAUGHTY BOYS and girls OF THE WORLD UNITE ~D

The main character's outburst is unclear to me. Why is he so angry that the man said "every human counts"? By now, i'm sure it wouldn't be about fighting, only surviving...

just imho...

...did'nt put much thought into this story, just wruitying for the hell of it and planning as i go. so i guess the only explanation is that five years of watching friends die and killing thousands of zombies to what seems to be no avail can make you a little unstable :tongue: :rifle: