Endgame

Endgame is a short story written by Jack Hillebrecht set in the Zombieverse. The piece follows three distinct days in the lives of Jack Bevan, Ryan Dawn, and John Theodore that take place between the events of Rise of the Dead 2: Apocalypse and The Rise of the Dead. It was released on August 7. 2021 to tie-in with Rise of the Dead: The Undead Heart, which would premiere a week later at the Something Wicked Film Festival.

Chapter 1
October 2013

Jack Bevan looked at the antidote for the zombie plague, which rested in his hands. The wreckage of Dr. Gutter’s apartment surrounded him. He and his two companions had travelled a great distance to recover this one small container that could end the apocalypse.

“So, what now?” asked Ryan Dawn, one of his companions. Ryan was just a few months older than Jack, and had just turned 13 mere days ago. There was still a coldness to Ryan’s eyes – a coldness that comes with age. Jack and his companions had witnessed more horrors than most people see in a lifetime. Jack saw his friend as being much older than he really was. It was nearly unbelievable that three young boys had travelled through the zombie-infested world and recovered the antidote.

“Now, we save the world.” Jack said confidently. Without saying a word, the three boys began to walk in unison out of the apartment.

“Um, how?” asked John Theodore, the third companion. John had always been something of a comedian, with a hyperactive edge to him. While he still retained those qualities, the trauma of their journey had definitely gotten to him. “There are a bajillion zombies out there. How are we going to give this one little bottle to all of them? Don’t forget, there’s this cult that wants the apocalypse to continue and destroy the antidote and…”

“The Arthur Bainsmond Community is done for,” Ryan cut in. “The whole cult is getting literally eaten alive by zombies right now because they showed up in New York City – the most infected place on Earth – with no intention of fighting back.”

“Look, I agree that there’s no clear path from here,” Jack said. “But there’s one thing we HAVE to do.”

“What’s that?” Ryan asked.

“We have to keep the antidote safe until we can find someone who can mass produce it. This is one dosage – that means we can’t give it to any one zombie, no matter what,” Jack continued.

“What if it’s one of us that’s infected?” Ryan asked with a nervous expression on his face.

“Doesn’t matter,” John said sternly. “If you’re not ready to die to protect this antidote, then you shouldn’t be around it.”

“We should get out of here,” said Ryan. “Need I remind you two, there ARE still zombies in this building.”

Jack nodded in agreement. The three walked over to the door. Ryan reached to open it, only to hesitate.

“Do you hear that?” Ryan asked. A pounding sound was growing louder. John looked through a peephole on the door. A zombie was sprinting towards them.

“We’ve got a zombie problem,” John shouted as he raised his gun.

“When it gets to the door, I’ll open it on the count of three and you’ll take care of it, John,” Jack said.

A bloodcurdling wail was growing louder. Suddenly, Ryan jumped out in front of John’s gun.

“Wait!” Ryan cried. “Just wait a second, okay? This voice sounds familiar,” Ryan leaned in to the peephole. “My God,” he breathed. “It can’t be.”

“Get out of the way, Ryan,” Jack yelled.

“Guys, this isn’t just any zombie,” Ryan exclaimed in disbelief. “It’s my sister. My sister is the zombie!”

“Are you sure?” John asked. “How can you even recognize a zombie?”

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” said Jack.

“Alyssa’s a lot older than we are. She was away at college. She went to school in New York, of course she’d be here!” Ryan said with excitement.

“How come you never tried to get her to help us?” Jack asked. “We could have used someone with a better knowledge of New York than we have.”

“I really thought she evacuated to safety. Last I heard from her, she booked a train to run away with her girlfriend Molly once the outbreak got really bad. Guess that didn’t work out,” Ryan explained.

“She’s gone now,” Jack sighed. “I’m sorry Ryan, but we gotta take care of this now. Is your gun loaded, John?”

“Hold on!” Ryan blurted out. “We are NOT murdering my sister,”

“We don’t have a choice,” said John. “She’s gone. Alyssa is a zombie now. We need to do what we’ve done to every other zombie. There’s no other way.”

“Well,” Ryan said as his eyes shifted over to the antidote in Jack’s hand. “There is one way.”

“Uh-uh. No way. What did we say a few minutes ago? We’re not giving the antidote to a specific zombie under any circumstances,” Jack said as he hid the antidote under his arms.

“Have a heart. This is my sister you’re talking about!” Ryan screamed.

“Don’t let your own interests get in the way here. We need to find someone to mass produce the antidote first! Any zombie that gets in the way, we blow their heads off.” The instant Jack finished that sentence, Ryan tackled him.

“Give me that antidote!” Ryan bellowed. The two began wrestling on the floor.

“Guys!” John yelled as he tried to separate the two. “We don’t have time for fighting. You’re going to break the bottle!” Suddenly, the door was kicked open. Alyssa stood there - a horrifying zombie with a thirst for flesh in her eyes. John raised his gun to shoot her. Noticing this, Ryan spun around and grabbed his legs, causing John to miss and shoot one of Dr. Gutter’s machines that was near them. Fluid began to shoot out and blast Alyssa in the face.

“Move move move!” Jack screamed. The three boys ran out of the room and closed the door behind them.

“She’s distracted, let’s go!” John called out.

“I’m gonna go finish her off,” Jack said.

“No!” Ryan cried. “She’ll be confused and stuck in that room for at least a few hours. She’s not going to hurt anyone, let’s let her be! Please!”

“Jack, come on,” John said. “She’s not worth the bullets.”

“Oh, thanks,” Ryan said sarcastically. “Great way to look at it,”

“Fine,” Jack conceded. “Let’s get out of here,” He turned to Ryan. “You really need to get your priorities in check though.” Ryan glared at Jack as the three companions left Gutter’s apartment and into the cold world that lay before them.

Chapter 2
December 2016

Ryan Dawn’s mind was consumed by visions. He saw the face of a young girl, no older than his sister – at least the last time he had seen her. He heard a name spoken – “Kayla McIntyre.” He saw all of Kayla’s friends and knew all of their names and insights into their personalities. He saw Kayla’s boyfriend – a boy of similar age named “Graham Anderson.” Ryan could feel what Graham’s warm embrace would feel like. But then, Ryan could feel Kayla’s sadness. She had been infected by her boyfriend only to succumb to the infection all alone – after abandoning her own friends. Suddenly, Ryan heard Kayla’s voice inside his head.

“Ryan! I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry I infected you. Just remember – “  Kayla began to say, before her voice cut out and Ryan’s mind returned to the present. He was lying on the ground, and looked up to see Kayla’s decapitated head lying in the Christmas Eve snow. His companion, Jack, stood there holding a bloodied blade that had been used to kill her.

“Ryan!” Jack screamed. He and their third companion, John, knelt by their fallen friend.

“Wh-what happened?” Ryan murmured.

“A zombie attacked us. I killed it, but – you were bitten,” Jack said with grief in his eyes.

“Kayla. You killed Kayla,” Ryan babbled.

“You knew that zombie?” John asked,  confused. Ryan sat up, with an energy and frustration in his body.

“I saw inside her head. Just now. I saw who she was. She…she spoke to me. She wasn’t just some savage creature…Kayla McIntyre was still in there. Until you killed her.”

“That’s impossible,” John said. “We’ve killed thousands of zombies. Because they’ve tried to kill us. When you become one of them, you’re gone!”

“John, shut up!” Jack cried. “We’re going to fix this, Ryan. You’re not gonna go away forever. We’re going to make this right.”

“Don’t you see?” Ryan said with a smile. “You can let me go. Some part of  me is going to survive. It’s going to be okay.” Ryan looked up through the trees, staring at the tiny stars that lay before him. The cold wind brushed at his face – yet he focused on the stars, doing his best to imagine their warmth.

“No, don’t say that!” Jack exclaimed. “John, give him the antidote.”

“What?!” John said, taking a step back. “Jack, we made an agreement. None of us get the antidote. We need to wait until we can mass produce…”

“I know what I said!” Jack interrupted. “But I don’t care. We found the antidote, and we’re giving it to Ryan.”

“I won’t do it,” John said. “You’re a coward, Jack,”

“It’s okay, Jack. Just let me go,” Ryan breathed. His skin was starting to turn pale and blood leaked from his mouth. He was starting to turn into a zombie. Jack leaped up.

“Give it!” he screamed. Jack attempted to grab the antidote from John’s hands, only for John to shove him out of the way. Jack got back up again, but this time John punched him in the face. Blood poured from Jack’s nose. “My nose…you broke my nose! You asshole!” He collapsed to his knees.

“I thought I could trust you. I thought we would protect the antidote. I thought we’d save the world,” John said with a scowl. “But I was wrong. If I can’t trust you, then I’m leaving. And I’m taking the antidote with me,” Jack was too weak to get up, tending to his broken nose.

“If you leave now,” Jack groaned. “I never want to see you again.”

“I can make that happen,” John retorted coldly. As John ran off into the night, tears rolled down his face. Life had been hard for the past three years since the apocalypse began. He had been separated from Jack and Ryan on several occasions – but for the first time he was truly alone.

Elsewhere, Jack had sprinted away from Ryan as far as he could, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop the inevitability of his friend’s transformation. He heard an inhuman wail in the distance. It was distinctively Ryan’s voice, albeit quite distorted. Ryan Dawn was gone. He belonged to the undead now.

Chapter 3
May 23, 2019

Arthur Bainsmond considered himself to be a patient man. It took dedication and to do what Arthur does, at least according to him. For six years, he had been tracking the movements of the zombie antidote as it passed between hands. He had followed every hint, every rumor, every drunkard’s vague report of seeing John Theodore’s movements throughout the northeastern side of the nation that used to be called the United States.

Arthur’s motivations varied depending on who you asked. According to Dr. George Gutter, the scientist whose foolishness had started the zombie outbreak, Arthur was a terrorist. Arthur was once the leader of a religious movement that declared him a god – and that his intent to secure a complete takeover of the zombies was some kind of divine prophecy. He had convinced a number of disenfranchised young people to join his cult. He gave them guns and uniforms and told them to go and find the zombie antidote and to destroy it. They almost succeeded too. Arthur had sent every single one of his followers to New York to recover the antidote – only to be massacred by John and his allies as well as the zombies that roamed the city. Now, all Arthur had to rely on was himself.

This was fitting, as Arthur’s true motivations were much simpler than either of the two aforementioned possibilities. Simply put, Arthur was a self-identified misanthrope – he hated the human race. All his life, Arthur had been mocked for his unorthodox appearance. Due to a birth defect, a piece of plastic held half of Arthur’s face together. People resented him for being different. Why shouldn’t Arthur be entitled to some peace and quiet? With a world entirely populated by zombies who could not speak, Arthur would finally be completely alone.

The last thing in the way of Arthur securing this goal was John and the zombie antidote. He had wandered the forests of New Jersey to try and locate the boy. And today would be the day he finally found his prey. In the distance, he saw John. Long had he waited for this moment. He would finally finish what he had started six years ago, and what his agents had failed top do. He would avenge every one of his followers, especially his second-in-command Jay Gordon, who had nearly recovered the antidote only to have been murdered by John personally during the battle.

“John Theodore!” he cried out. Tingles radiated through his body, his moment had finally come. “My name is Arthur Bainsmond. I have come here to kill you. Long have I waited for this…”

Before he could finish his statement, a bullet entered Arthur’s neck. He collapsed to the ground. Arthur really regretted his theatricality, as now he would pay the price. As he felt is strength fail him, Arthur weakly raised his gun and shot at John. It landed in the chest. As John fell to the ground, Arthur smiled. He may have lost his life, but Arthur completed his mission. There was nothing to stop his vengeance. Arthur smiled at this thought as his mind went blank and he saw no more.

Epilogue
John hobbled down a street that was vaguely familiar to him. Arthur’s bullet hurt like hell, and John knew that he did not have much time left. His thoughts did not lie on his own life, but of Jack and Ryan, who he would never see again. He wished that it did not have to end like this. He yearned for reconciliation with Jack, reconciliation he would never find. It was far too late to make things right. But the zombie antidote could not die with him. The one thing keeping John alive was his insatiable desire to find another survivor he could pass the on the antidote to.

He could only hope the mistakes of the past would not be repeated, and the antidote would be put to use. What specific use? He could not say. It would be up to the antidote’s next protector to determine. Blood leaked from his chest. John was running out of time, but he needed to keep going.

John saw the safe house he used to hide in with Jack and Ryan all those years ago, when the apocalypse had first started. He was placing all his hope in the notion that someone new had seen the advantages of the house and had inhabited it in the absence of the trio. It was a total longshot, but all he had. His feet pounding on the ground, John hobbled up to the front door. He pounded on it with all his might. He waited. Nothing. He tried again, harder this time. A young woman around his age ran to the door, horror and shock in her eyes. It was as if she had not seen another survivor in years. John fell in through the doorway and pulled out the antidote to give to her.

The journey of John Theodore had reached its end. The antidote belonged to Annika Chardee now. As he died, John did not know what this mysterious stranger would do. But he knew that there was finally the potential for a better future.