Alternia Comics

This is the first story published here, I think, that's a collaborative effort between Alarin and me. He started this, sent it to me and said "Write the next part. Here's how it should end." Hopefully it turned out alright.
-Karak

Jason clutched the precious package to his chest and ran from the madness behind him. He used a parking stop to vault over a low fence and tore across an open lot, making for the abandoned apartment complex ahead.

He had seen zombies before - torn, shambling corpses that wandered aimlessly, trying to spread their disease. Up to now, though, all he had seen were HUMAN zombies - and in fact, if that had been what he was running from, that fence would have bought him a lot of precious time.

Instead, the gigantic undead insects swarmed right over it.

"YES!" a high pitched cackle followed him. "Run, puny human, before the fury of my horde!"

In any other context, he might have laughed out loud. Lord Markovel, as he called himself, was an insane child and, more importantly, a powerful nuke-mage. He had come once before, and been repelled by Jason and his community, defending the very shopping mall that Jason was running away from, now. He'd returned a few months later, bringing with him an army of massive bugs and driving them out to find what scant shelter they could in the shattered suburbs of San Jose.

They hadn't known they carried the zombie virus until the first ones killed started getting up and following the boy's commands.

Jason ran up an outside stairwell and fired a blast from his shotgun into the mass of his pursuers from the landing. The resulting splatter of gore was quickly covered by the others. He cursed, took the next few steps three at a time, and kicked in the first door he saw.

The door flew open. "Oy! Get outta my 'ome!" the squatter shouted at Jason, still in the door way.

"No time! Bugs!" Jason rushed inside and slammed the door shut behind himself.

"Bugs?" Before Jason could answer the door thumped loudly. Smaller, softer thumps could be heard at the window next to the door.

"Yeah ... Look, I'm sorry, but we only have a couple of minutes. If the bugs don't find a way in first, the humans will be here soon and they'll break down the door. Fence won't stop 'em long."

"Look mate, you're a nutter. Completely barmy. What's so bad about some bugs?" The door thumped again.

"Zombie Swarm. There's a kid calling himself Lord Markovel. He's controlling them somehow. We're done for unless you've got a back door or a fire escape or something."

"Zombie bugs? Bloody yanks, think you know everything." The squatter stepped toward the door and reached for the handle. Jason leaped in the way, shouting incomprehensibly. "Okay, have it your way. There's a fire exit over there."

"Thanks." Jason sprinted in the direction indicated, cradling the package to his chest. He didn't stop to open the window, just tucked his head down, used his free hand to draw his leather jacket up, and barreled through the glass.

"You're gonna pay for that, mate!" Jason heard the squatter behind him just before the door burst open again. He shut his ears to the scream and kept running.

How was Markovel controlling them? How could anyone control a zombie, let alone a swarm and half a dozen humans? Seven now, Jason guessed, including the squatter. He was getting tired. His lungs burned and his legs felt like lead weights now that the adrenaline was starting to fade. He felt like he'd been running for weeks, hardly a moment to catch his breath before Markovel's bugs caught up. He stumbled through the alley, tripping over his own feet.

The package tumbled from his hand and skittered across the asphalt, coming to rest near a manhole cover.

Sewer escape? "No... That couldn't possibly..." Jason tried to talk himself into it as he retrieved the package. He wrestled with the cover for a few minutes, and a part of him wondered what was keeping the bugs. Finally, he gave up, admitting he didn't have the tools to open the thing, convinced that Markovel would have zombie alligators or something waiting below.

He poked his head out of the alley to look around the deserted street. Of course there were no cars parked at the meters. Anyone with any sense, and the means to do so, would have fled the city at the first signs. It takes an idiot, or a desperate man, to hole up in a mall against every sort of movie apocalypse scenario he could think of. Jason had been desperate, and the mall wasn't all bad. That's where he met her, after all.

Panic swept him as he heard the familiar buzzing of the swarm. Jason gripped the package tighter and ran. He stopped to rest near a fire hydrant, another desperate plan forming in his mind. He zipped up his jacket and tucked the package inside, then drew the shotgun from its holster on his back. He waited for the swarm. He was done running.

Unless of course, this didn't work, which seemed likely.

He calmed his mind and kept the plan at the forefront of his thoughts, focusing on the swarm. His timing had to be good. He didn't think it had to be perfect, but he'd only have one chance. Then he would be back to running.

A funnel of flying insects streamed out of the sky, flying directly toward him. Closer they drew and closer still until Jason's nerves got the better of him and he pulled the trigger.

In retrospect, Jason realized his plan was really, really stupid and he was surprised he hadn't killed or maimed himself. Despite common sense, the shot did not bounce off the fire hydrant, scattering in every direction, but instead cut through it as Jason imagined it would. The top of the hydrant had been weakened enough it could no longer contain the pressure behind it. Water rocketed skyward and drenched the swarm. Unable to fly, they posed less of a threat and Jason began to flee again, this time at an easy jog instead of the all-out run he'd maintained before. He holstered the shotgun again and drew his hand to his chest, verifying the package was still there.

Jason rounded a corner and head tires screech to a halt. Jason stopped himself and cringed, scrunching his eyes closed.

He opened them a moment later, looking directly into the grille of a large vehicle, its engine idling inches from his face.

"Come on, lad! Get out of the road!" The driver leaned out of the window.

Jason could only stammer and shuffle to the sidewalk. Seeing this large, black, armored car was at such odds with what he was expecting, it was all his mind could do to think "Humvee. That's a humvee."

"D'ya need a lift?" Jason nodded and the driver disappeared into the cab again. The passenger door opened a moment later. "Where ya headed?"

Jason got his first good look at the man, dressed in a black suit, complete with black shirt with a white collar. A string of prayer beads hung from the rear view mirror. Jason climbed inside and returned the man's affable smile. "You're a priest?"

He pushed his glasses up his nose. "They call me 'Patrick the Road Priest' on account of my means of transportation, I suppose. And because my name's Patrick, of course." He but the vehicle in gear and Jason closed his door.

"But you're still a priest. You hold services and perform weddings, right?"

"Sure. Why?"

Jason pulled the package from his jacket and opened it, showing Patrick the wedding ring inside. "There's this girl I met a while back..."

"Say no more, my son." Patrick laughed a hearty laugh and sped down the road.