Mob of the Dead

Mob of the Dead

Sal, Finn, Billy and Weasel are apart of a mobster gang and they aren't seeing eye-to-eye. When their Escape from Alcatraz plan goes out the window and a nightmarish world of zombies unveils itself, they will have to put aside differences and battle to the roof and the plane to freedom, but someone is holding back secrets that are the key to Life and Death.

~Treyarch owns Call of Duty & CoD Zombies~

Chapter 2

Ghosts

by: Cozy_Glow
White light engulfed the world and then, there was darkness. Voices rambled in tones of sadness and distress… a plan… the roof… the key… the parts… betrayal… Over and over, the Voices rambled sadly on, until, Albert Arlington opened his eyes to a blinding white and blue light.
Blinking, the light dimmed into 3 figures before him, each barely recognisable, but known to him: Sal, Finn and Billy. They were silent, looking at each other and themselves with concerned amazement. They were glowing blue and transparent, like frosted glass in the moonlight.

[What the f--k?!] Billys’ voice echoed in their heads. His mouth had not moved, but his voice was clear. [What is going on?!]
[What happened?] Finn asked, looking around.
[Where are we?] Sal replied, staring at nothing.

Weasel tried to move away, to get another view of them all, but instead of stepping, he floated backwards, much to his own astonishment. The others watched with little amusement as Weasel looked back.

[I have a thought…] he said, pointing behind the other mobsters. [It’s over there. On the ground.]

The three men turned and stared with open mouths at the bodies sitting not far away. Each one was slightly hunched over, knees up, and dead staring forward. Sal floated closer and found that each was them! His gang quickly followed to find their own bodies, but what would they do with themselves now?
Finn looked sullenly at himself, before he carefully reached out to touch his shoulder. As his hand neared the body, electric sparks began to flash on his hand. As his hand closed the gap, lightning and electricity flew around his arm and hand, until he touch his shoulder. At the touch, a terrible shock flew up his ghostly self and back into his human body.
Finns’ body was pushed over onto its’ back from the shock, but the eyes weren’t dead anymore: they were alive! Finn slowly sat up, felt his body and gave a relieved half-laugh at being back inside himself. He looked up and saw a faint blurry outline of someones’ ghost watching him.

“Touch yourself and get back inside ya body” it felt great to be able to speak again.

The ghost looked at the others, before it floated away to join in the living world once again. Finn watched as Sal, Billy and Weasels’ bodies got a shock and came back to life once again. Billy jumped up, shook himself down and hooted in joy at being alive. Sal carefully got to his feet, dusted himself down and examined the world around them. They were still in Alcatraz, but they were outside the library, not their cells. Sal pondered on this for a minute, but his mind was a fog of other questions, such as:
How could they become ghosts?
Who possessed the guard?
Why are the dead roaming Alcatraz?
Did they just die?!
Disturbed from his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder, Sal turned to look at Billy, whose brow had a slight furrow of concern. Finn and Weasel had ventured away to scout the area they were in, finding most things boarded up or locked. Billy didn’t look too bothered, rather relaxed to be truthful, as did Sal and Finn. Weasel, on the other hand, looked very, very worried, sad even. No one truly cared.

“We’ve gotta get outta here” Sal said, frowning and going to the library. “Get on with the plan!”
“Where are the parts?” Billy growled at Weasel.
Weasel shrugged. “Where they should be.”
“Which is where?” he snapped.
Weasel cringed. “The laundry, the elevator… uh… the Wardens office?”
“What?” Sal rounded on the smaller man, furious. “You can’t remember?!”
“I can’t remember!”

Weasel seemed to shrink as Sal and Billy glared over him. Like a ray of hope, Finns’ voiced called to them from the corridor, urgent and shocked. The trio dashed to his side, Weasel trailing like a puppy, and stared at a map and list pinned to the wall. Just one look told them what Weasel couldn’t: Where the parts were. Sal turning to Weasel with a mocking smile, but it was almost immediately wiped away when he saw the gap of shock and vacant stare the man was giving the list. Weasel placed a hand on his chin in thought, then turned and looked at Sal, eyes wide.
 
"That's my writing" he managed, voice wavering with worry or stress. "But I don't remember writing it!"

Sal blinked at him, minding racing, but completely blocked, foggy. How was that even possible? Arlington had a memory like a steel trap.They all did, so why not now? Suddenly, the sound of groaning and thunking came from the library. Finn and Billy held guns at the ready and carefully entered the room, looking about, before spying a zombie pulling the wooden planks from the broken window. Seeing them inside, the zombie shrieked in excitement or anger and hastened to break in. Finn stopped it with a perfect headshot.
Like a signal, another zombie started upon the other window, shrieking angrily at the pair, as it ripped boards down with furious determination. Billy ran up and shanked it in the throat, getting a swipe, before killing it. Finn leaned out the window and quickly retreated back inside as the boards magically flew up and nailed themselves back in place. Finn and Billy stared in astonishment, before touching the sill of the other window. It barricaded itself nicely.

Billy laughed. “No hard work required!”
“Well, not really” Finn half-smiled, looking out the window. “Hey, Sal! Those meat bags are comin’ in the windows!”
“I know!”

Gunfire and the banging of planks rang out from the corridor as Weasel and Sal fought off a wave of zombies who wished to intrude. Weasel aimed for a headshot, but his gun clicked empty. Weasel sighed and retreated from the window, looking around, calmly, for anything else that could be useful. His green and blue eyes fell upon a chalk outline on the wall. Odd, he thought, touching it. At the touch, the wall seemed to melt and shift, before an Olympia shotgun fell out into his hands. Weasel stared in astonishment, then open-smiled and looked over his shoulder.

“Hey, guys” he called. “Wanna bag a nice shooter? Look for the chalk outline son the wall!”
Sal didn’t even look. “Good job, Weasel! You’re going crazy!”

Weasel sighed in slight annoyance, before firing a round past Sals’ ear into the oncoming zombies’ brain. Sal back away from the open window in shock, turning slowly to look at the small man with wide eyes.

“The wall, you say?”
“Yes.”

Albert took over Sals’ window, repaired it and defended it in the time Sal got a gun and shouted at the other two mobsters to do the same.

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