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 7

Hells' Retriever

Weasel finished the final adjustment and turned to Billy, hands outstretched to show off his work. Billy curiously looked over the acid canisters for the Blundergat and became a little worried. Weasel gave a small smile.

“It won’t hurt ya! Just the dead guys!”
“Thanks” Billy sarcastically replied, shouldering the weapon. “I’ll be sure to aim at you.”

Billy snatched up the acid parts and fitted them to the Gat, before showing off his upgraded gun. The thing was glowing a wicked green colour, brighter than the Ray Gun, and looking very out-of-this-world. Weasel was proud of it and so was Billy as the older men admired the weapon. Billy posed with it, showing off. Sal gave the young man a pat on the shoulder, looking proud and subtly annoyed.

“Don’t be cocky” he warned, nodding in a direction. “Lets go feed these dogs some dead pricks!”

With a yip of joy, the four quickly raced down the metal corridors and through doors, until they were passing through the library, only then, did the zombies reappear. The creatures barred the path, growling and moaning, as they staggered down. The men backed up, then dived past, with Finn the only one getting hit, but he had been last, after all.
On the first floor, they exited and stood in the open, one wall a drop down to the Wardens’ Office, the other side a metal wall. With a quick look, they spied the painted head of the wolf. Clicking weapons to go, they stood in wait, the wall at their backs, but no zombies came. Their undead cries echoed through metal bars and down winding corridors, but they were nowhere to be seen.
A thud from behind let them know where they were.
The thing growled, baring it’s rotting teeth, before it slashed Billy across the back, sending the young man leaping forward in pain. Finn whirled around and blasted it. The Wolf on the wall burst forth through Hell-fire, before sucking up and devouring the dead creature with a bark of glee. Once it was finished, the Wolf barked and growled for more, to which the men pleasantly acknowledged.
The zombies came in waves, all dying and feeding the Wolf on the wall, until, finally, it gave a haunting howl and receded into the wall, the Mark glowing red. Satisfied, the men quickly headed off towards the upper rooms, but stopped by a strange, little machine that read ‘Electric Cherry’. Finn looked intrigued and decided it would be worth the try. He walked a few paces, zapped himself and returned to power up the machine.
The other watched his ghostly form float over and the electricity flash out of his fingertips, all shivering and awe-struck. It would never sink in that it was possible. Finn floated back to his body, then quickly jogged up and took a bottle of ‘Electric Cherry’. The liquid tickled and warmed his throat, sending a feeling of sparks through his veins. Finn had never felt so jumpy, in a good way. He felt like he could zap the world.

“Got a crappy taste” Finn grinned. “Electric is right!”

Sal and Billy eyed the machine, before both deciding to get a drink. While they fought and joked, Weasel slipped away, his thoughts elsewhere, as he made his way back towards the Wardens’ Office. He tapped the Mystery Box as he boarded up the window, took the weapon it gave him and walked into the office to stare at the green machine at the other end of the room. The machine had to be turned on, but Weasel already knew what it was. He’d known for a while what it was, but now he could get it.
He was quick to die and turn the machine on, racing back to grab the drink of green without any hesitation. He had had so many before, so why question it again? The drinks’ effect was immediate, almost cruelly so. A feeling of speed rushed through him, tingling his hands and making his mind blur for the moment, unable to handle the speed, but it passed as quickly as it had come. With a shake of his head, Albert Arlington headed back up the stairs to feed the last Wolf.
When Weasel got to the room, we was nearly swarmed on by the masses already there. The other three were being pushed into a corner beside the Wolf, that was happily feasting on anything dead. Without warning, it turned its’ head and snapped at the mobsters beside it, biting Sal in the process. The man yowled pain, jumping back into Billy and Finn, squishing them more.

“Look!” Billy shouted. “The Weasel didn’t run away!”
“Way ta go, Weasel!” Sal cheered.
“Help us kill ‘em!” Finn yelled.

Quicker than normal, Weasel opened fire, laid a perfect line of fire and feeding the Wolf, keeping it off the others. Sal, Finn and Billy crept away from it, but the Wolf gave a haunting howl and vanished. Billly scowled at the glowing mark.

“All that for what?!” he yelled. “Nothin’!”
“Hmm…” Finn eyed the drawing carefully. “I seen that before. Somewhere we passed.”
“Not where we fed ‘em!” Sal snapped, annoyed.
“Nah” Finn answered, evenly. “In the catacombs, I saw three of these drawings on a wall!”

Curious of Finns’ discovery, they followed him down into the creepy underground, heading toward the elevator with a steady-quick pace. They passed the corridor that led to the elevator and Finn, with great pleasure, gestured to a now open wall. They were surprised to find a secret room and even more so to see a tomahawk floating in the center of the room, red lines criss-crossing the surface of the blade as it hovered in a hellish red glow.
Finn reached forward and snatched it up quick, concerned he might get hurt, but was reassured by it’s gentle pulsating light and harm-free hand. As careful as Finn, the other three took one as well, all curious for what they had in their hands, really. The tomahawk looked nothing special, minus it’s eerie glow and mysterious appearance.

“I don’t know whether to be disappointed” Sal finally said. “Or happy for a weapon.”

Billy nodded, rolling the weapon in his hands, idly. Weasel gently tossed it in the air, doing little tricks with it for fun. He seemed the most use to it already, strangely. A zombies’ sudden appearance at the door sparked their curiousity, but it was Sal who got the shot in.
As soon as it left Sals’ hand, the tomahawk seemed to take on a life of its’ own, soaring quickly through the air and plunging through the zombies head, already targeting another not far away. After killing two more zombies with headshots, the tomahawk returned to Sals’ hand, the man watching, and cowering, in shocked-horror.

“What the fcvk?!” he yelped. “I didn’t know it could do that!”
“Geez, Sal” Billy said, excitement lacing his tone. “I thought it would fcvk you up the way it came flyin’ back!”
“What the fcvk is it?!” Sal shouted.
Finn licked his dry lips. “Hells’ Retriever.”

The name of the weapon seemed to send shivers through them. The tomahawk was powerful, but deadly and quick. Weasel spun the Retriever in his hand, nimble fingers barely touching the wood. He wasn’t even looking, just staring at the now empty room.

“...Or is it the Redeemer…?”

The others mobster shot him an uncertain look as other zombies began to scream and move in on them. It was going to be a bumpy walk back up.

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