(This story was written for the Sci Fi smackdown round 5. I chose pic- post#6, dude with hat and beard and teh following box was assigned to me:

Group #4 @ashiqtnt

Sub-Genre - DecoPunk

Setting - Hotel

Compulsory Item - Car Keys

Compulsory Quote - This is our extinction.

Song - Ramble on Rose (Grateful Dead) -  )

Walker

The scientist paced the length of the lab looking at his watch every now and then. He was the stereotypical cartoon scientist, thin body with a stooped posture topped by a bald head with white tufts of hair on either side, the big glasses on his wrinkly face completed the look.

“Slow down professor, he'll be here,” his much younger assistant tried to calm him.

“Oh, that's not what I am worried about. What if I am wrong? What if this man makes the journey and they find that it is useless? Or what if I am wrong and he gets killed on the way? Wouldn't he have died for nothing? Or if I'm right and he gets killed, won't we lose it? So many things could go wrong,” he put his hands up in desperation and continued the pacing.

The assistant stood up, “don't be so pessimistic. We tested it, it works. We just need confirmation and mass production. We don't have the facilities here.”

“Yes, yes, quite so. I know, I know. This is just a military establishment not a science institution, Sergeant Jones always reminds me of that. Of all the places, the cure had to be discovered here,” he shook his head.

“Think about it, doc. You're a genius, probably the saviour of humanity.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I'm just paying my debt to society,” he mumbled.

“What?” the assistant did not hear him properly.

Just then, the man walked in without knocking.

“Professor Thompson?”

He turned around and stared at the man for a minute not really taking in his beard or long hair.

“Ah yes,” he said finally, “you're here. Now, I hope you know how serious this is.”

The man gave him an obvious look and shifted on his foot.

“Hi Chris, I'm professor Thompson's assistant,” the assistant extended his hand.

The man took his hand in a firm handshake, “do we know each other?”

“No, I've just heard of you from Profess-”

“In that case, you can call me Mr. Walker or Christopher,” the man interrupted politely smiling.

The assistant nodded sheepishly and stepped back to let the professor talk. The professor was in deep thought.

“Professor?” the assistant called out.

“Yes?” he looked at the two men one by one, “oh yes, yes. Sorry, I got a little carried away there.” He looked straight at Walker, “as I was saying, you must undertake this with utmost importance. This could very well be our salvation, Mr. Walker.”

Professor Thompson walked to a safe in the corner of the lab and turned the dial for the combination. He produced a vial of purple liquid about the size of a pen, a couple of inches thick and raised it so that Walker could see it. Walker nodded.

The professor motioned for his assistant who opened a drawer and unscrewed a similar looking metallic tube. He placed the vial inside and screwed it back, handing it back to the professor.

Walker looked at the canister for a second and took it from the professor's hands. Though it wasn't very heavy, the responsibility weighed on him. He had volunteered for the mission because he thought his life needed a purpose. He had to do something or this cooped up existence would make him go insane. He suddenly found himself doubting things but he didn't back off. He was a soldier once, his word was his life.

“I hope to not fail, professor,” he turned around and walked away.

Walker strode straight to his quarters where he retrieved his waistcoat and hat. Taking one last look at himself in the mirror, he walked to the control tower and asked to see Sergeant Jones. Even in the aftermath of an apocalypse Sergeant Michael Jones appeared in immaculately pressed uniforms with a fresh shave and crew cut hair. He motioned for Walker to sit on the opposite side of the table.

“Walker. Did you meet Professor Thompson?”

“Yeah. He gave me this,” he showed him the tube.

The sergeant looked at it briefly and shook his head, “you know what I believe? I think...this is it,” he leaned back in his chair, “nothing lasts forever. Maybe we've lived for too long here polluting the earth and she's alive and eradicating the parasites that we have become. This is it Walker, this is our extinction ”

“I'm not dying like this, not becoming one of those things. If Thompson thinks that this may be able to save us, we might as well give it a shot.”

“Do you know the risks involved?”

“We've been through this Mike. I'm going.”

The sergeant sighed, “you're the only family I have left.”

“Hey, don't get all sentimental on me, OK? I need to do this for me, I will not rot away here and then just die off. Besides if you're sure this is it, what does it matter anyway?”

Sergeant Jones gave up trying to dissuade him from leaving.

“Very well. Get to the armoury and take what you like. No need for any provisions except maybe some water since you shouldn't be gone for too long anyway. Come back here when you're done.” he clasped his hands in front of him on the table.

Walker mock saluted Jones who flung a pen at him and he left laughing.

From the armoury he chose a couple of Colt 1911s with ammunition, some grenades and a combat knife. When the quartermaster suggested a rifle he declined, he didn't want to carry too much weight. He chose a shiny small mechanical crossbow and a quiver of short arrows instead. He was explained the way to use and maintain the weapon, the fact that ten arrows could be preloaded into it excited him.

Next he collected a backpack and dumped some water bottles in there and a few snack bars, just in case. He also placed the grenades in the bag.

He walked the length of the high perimeter for possibly the last time. He could hear a few of the undead wailing outside but they were quickly cut down with arrows. Walker had been the one to suggest that the perimeter defence towers use arrows instead of guns, since there was almost no sound to attract more of them. Besides the arrows could be retrieved and reused, this was not exactly precision archery and a little out of form arrow did not matter much.

Finally about an hour later, he met Jones again who walked him to the end of the base which housed the base's squadron of fighter jets.

“Thought I'd let you fly out. You were in the squadron and you do the maintenance and test flights these days, so you shouldn't be too rusty.”

Walker looked at him unbelievingly, “really? You're not pulling one of your classic pranks, are you?”

Jones gave him a mock hurt look.

Walker laughed, “I mean, I was expecting maybe a jeep or something. Not this.”

“No jeep for you, I need those for perimeter clearance and rides to raid the city. That's why you can have a plane, they're all pretty much grounded.”

Walker looked at the jets that had been grounded for the past few months, he pointed to a small silver one in the back with red streaks on the side and the propellers.

“That one, I'll have that one, it's lighter and more fuel efficient. I should be able to fly over with a full tank.”

“Andrews,” Jones called out to a mechanic, “have that bird prepped for take off.”

The mechanic ran off followed by Walker. Andrew checked for propeller and wing damage and engine troubles. Since it was grounded for sometime and only went out on rare test flights, he was worried the propellers might have been rusty but they were in good condition. He gave the the thumbs up to Walker.

Walker walked around the plane and then climbed the short steps to hop into the cockpit. Once inside he did his own checks. Jones climbed up next to him

“Fly safe, Walker and come back. You know there's nothing better on the other side,” he chuckled.

“The grass ain't greener,” said Walker.

“The wine ain't sweeter,” said Jones.

“Either side of the hill,” they finished together.

“Take care mate,” Walker smiled and slid the cockpit door shut. He started the engines and guided the plane outside the hangar slowly towards the runway.

Making a final salute and wave to Jones, he put the plane to motion along the runway picking up speed and lifted off. He made one round of the base seeing Jill wave at him and went on his way.

“Mustang, this is Dog House. Do you read? Over.” his radio crackled to life.

“Loud and clear, Dog House. Over.”

“The sky looks clear, have a clean flight. Good luck. Over.”

“Cheers, boys. Over and out.”

He steered hard to port not flying too high observing the ruins that the city had become. Even though it was becoming dark, he noticed the streets littered with debris, buildings burned down and the occasional dead bodies. Every passing minute increased his depression, the toll on humanity was unbearable. In between he could see groups of the undead roaming around, some would look at the plane and wail raising their hands.

An hour later as he was flying over an area that housed many warehouses, he could see smoke rising out of a chimney in one, his radio came to life again.

“Identify yourself,” a male voice said.

Walker scratched his head, “eh, you identify yourself.”

There was no reply, being curious he flew a little lower and circled back to check out the area.

Without warning his plane was shot at, bullets and other projectiles shot at him from below. Before he could pull up, he saw what looked like a huge spear, as thick as his arm, jutting through his right wing; this was followed by another one in the same wing. He was leaking fuel and the plane was losing even more altitude. He tried his best to get away from the area and find a safer landing spot.

“Mayday! Mayday! This is Mustang! I've been hit! Repeat, I've been hit! Over” he shouted frantically over the radio.

“Mustang, this is Doghouse. Did you say you were hit? Over”

“Yes!”

“Bogeys? Over.”

“Negative. I have a spear through my wing, make that two. Over.”

“You are breaking up Mustang, did you say spea-”

The radio turned to static, he yanked it off his ear and looked intensely through the glass and chose a relatively deserted road to land the plane, though there were a few undead roaming around the area. Pulling hard on the stick with his plane tilting funny and veering to one side, he manoeuvred a hard landing on the road breaking of one of the plane's rear wheel in the process. It skirted and slid across the road coming to a crashing stop against an upturned car.

Walker was disoriented for a few seconds, wailing sounds from nearby brought him back to his senses. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head to clear the grogginess, the undead were walking towards the plane from all directions. Taking a good look at his surroundings and the approaching undead, he hopped out of the plane grabbing his hat. He opened the bag, retrieved a grenade and chucked it at them just before running to the nearest side street which thankfully did not have anyone in it.

He felt the explosion as it rocked the ground under him but he did not stop running. When he started hearing the tell-tale wailing sounds from somewhere in front of him, he stopped abruptly.

“Damn,” he said panting. Looking to his left he saw a shop with it's doors broken, it looked empty. The wailing was getting closer. Shaking his head, he cautiously slid into the shop. It was a small pawn shop, he peered under the counter to check for any surprises. Satisfied that the shop was empty he heaved himself over the counter and hid behind it. Through the crack in the wood he could see the front of the shop. A group of about a dozen of the undead passed by the shop wailing and clawing at the air.

'I am not becoming food that easy,' he thought. He leaned back against the wall and drank down a bottle of water with a snack bar, grateful for the last minute thought to add them. His head still felt a little uneasy and his body ached at places because of the crash. With a slight fear of being eaten alive while sleeping, he decided to take a short nap.

By the time Walker was awake, it was already sunrise. Cursing himself for waking up so late, he sat up and stretched lightly. He ate another one of the snacks and looked at a bottle of water, “I could kill for a coffee. The undead have it easy in the mornings.”

He decided to check his plane. After ensuring that the street was now empty, he made his way outside the shop. Though he knew that many of his friends would love to kill some of them, he avoided them. He did not want to draw attention to himself, either from the undead or those who had shot him down. The first undead to notice him was in a small alley, it was alone and almost started wailing. Walker ran full tilt at it jumped with his knees to its chest knocking it down and landing on top of it. He removed the knife from the sheath on his waist and stabbed it through the head.

A few more streets down, he ran into a group of five undead whom he dispatched with his mechanical bow and arrows. He smiled and congratulated himself for having chosen such a good weapon.

When he reached his plane, he was a little surprised. The plane was still there albeit some items were missing. The spears in the wings were gone, so were the entire left wing, the seats, radio, tail wing and all the external lights. He stood there scratching his head, “what the hell?”

“We knew you'd come back,” a female voice said his beside.

He quickly turned around and pointed his guns but there was no one.

“Nice try cowboy. I'd have to be stupid for that to happen. Now put your guns down.”

“Guns down,” another voice said from his other side, a shot rang out behind him.

He shrugged and holstered them.

“I said down,” said the woman.

“That's as low as they go. If you don't like it, shoot me.”

Slowly a man emerged from his right and a woman from his left, they both had guns pointed at him. He looked at them in turn.

“Who are you people? What do you want?”

“Just come with us, don't make any sudden movements.”

Walker followed the woman with her companion in the rear. After a series of twists and turns,which Walker understood was meant to confuse him, they reached what looked like a decrepit hotel building. From the outside it looked abandoned and unsafe. The woman knocked on the door and announced herself. The door opened, she was let in along with Walker and the other man. Two muscle-bound armed men watched their every step.

Once inside he coughed lightly from the dusty interior. One of the muscle men removed Walker's bag and asked him to put all his weapons there. He collected them and placed them at the counter. The woman led him into another room, as soon as he entered someone hit him on the head from behind, he was out cold.

When he came to, he was in a cage. Next to him, there was another cage with a skinny blonde girl in it. He rubbed the back of his head, it was swollen, he cursed the woman silently.

“Kid, what's happening here?”

“They are going to eat you.”

“No, really. What's going on?”

“I'm not lying. They'll cut parts from you and cook till there's nothing left or till you die.”

He checked his pocket and was relieved that the canister was still there.

“How long have you been here?”

“About a week now. They had some other guy in your cage till yesterday, they would have started on me today. But since you're here, I may live a little longer,” the girl said.

“We gotta get out of here.”

“How? They never come alone, it's always in pairs.”

“Have you any got anything I can use as a weapon?”

The girl checked her pockets and came out with a couple of car keys. Walker motioned for her to throw it to him.

“Pairs, eh? I got this.”

When they heard footsteps approaching, Walker pretended to still be out cold.

Two men came in and opened his cage, one of them nudged him with his foot, “hey, sleeping beauty, wakey wakey. People are hungry.”

In a second, Walker was up and had plunged the keys straight into the man's throat pushing it in with his thumb. Before the other man could recover from the shock, Walker punched him hard in the throat crushing his larynx, he turned him around and twisted his neck. He dug the key out of the first man's throat and twisted his neck as well. The girl watched it all dumbfounded. Walker searched the men and found keys to the girl's cage and a gun.

After freeing her, they slowly exited the room, not making any more noise they reached the front door but it was guarded. He shot both the guards. He grabbed his bag of weapons and they ran out the door and into the darkness.

Even though they weren't keen on travelling after nightfall, it was better than being cooked and eaten. They did not slow their pace for a full half hour trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the cannibals. This was hindered by the ever present mass of undead. They tried their best to avoid confrontations.

After moving around for a while they decided to take rest, the girl suggested a small gift shop in the corner. Walker made her wait outside in the cover of a car while he checked out the shop. After some time, he motioned for her to enter.

He opened his bag and checked his provisions. Shaking his head, he handed a snack bar and bottle of water to the girl and kept one each for himslef.

“Thanks, my name is Rose,” the girl said.

“Walker,” he introduced himself, “so, how did you end up there?” he asked her.

“I was in a group, there was about ten of us. We got separated in a zombie attack and I wound up here. I asked them for help and I got locked up as food,” she was crying softly.

Walker patted her back and told her his story.

“Wow! You got shot down, that sounds exciting.”

“Not really, it's scary as hell. How old are you?”

“Thirteen.”

“No wonder you think it's exciting,” he chuckled.

“Hey!” she protested laughing.

“I don't know where we are at the moment. I need to find a map and a compass.”

“This is a gift shop, there's bound to be some here.”

“I have no light.”

“I do,” said Rose as she briefly flipped her lighter open and produced a flame.

They started searching the shop slowly without making too much noise and using the light sparingly. Finally they found a map and a compass.

“What street is this?” asked Walker.

“Corner of Church Street,” said Rose flicking her lighter on again.

Walker looked at the map and used the compass to determine the direction they had to take.

“Alright, we're good to go after sunrise, I guess I know the way.”

They slept for a little while with Walker having vivid nightmares but thankfully he did not wake up screaming. He woke up within a couple of hours, the night terrors being too much for him. He stood guard at the entrance while Rose slept on. She reminded him so much of his little sister, his eyes welled just thinking about it.

Just after dawn, Rose woke up with a start only calming down after she saw Walker at the door.

“You ready to go?” she asked him.

“Any time you are,” he replied without turning around.

They continued the journey, often avoiding the undead rather than killing them. When questioned by Rose, all Walker said was, “I'm not crazy enough to attract large hordes. When I have superpowers or I'm a zombie killing machine like Alice, we'll think about it.”

The city limits were almost over and the forest was starting, they were now travelling through the woodlands. Walker was mesmerised by the natural beauty he had not seen in years.

Finally they were less than a mile from the base. In her excitement, Rose ran ahead, “last one there buys dinner.”

“No, Rose. Wait.”

It was too late. A lone undead emerged from the bushes and crashed into Rose sideways, knocking her down with it on top of her. It bit into her shoulder taking a small chunk and reared back for another bite. Walker shot it before that could happen. Suddenly they heard wails from the forest.

Walker cursed as he ran towards Rose, “Rose!”

“I'm OK. Just a little bite,” she managed to say in between sobs. He helped her up and they ran away from the wails, it was getting closer. Walker pulled out his other gun as well and shot at the approaching undead. After running for a few more minutes, they could see the walls of the base.

“Keep running, Rose,” he shouted firing off shots in all directions.

They reached the perimeter wall but then he realised that there was no gate nearby. He turned around to see a couple dozen of the undead walking towards them. He pushed Rose behind him, she was already running a temperature and mumbling incoherently. Placing the guns on the floors, he quickly opened the bag and laid the spare magazines in front of him.

Walker started picking of the undead one by one with head shots only. He didn't want to waste bullets nor time. He reloaded quickly and continued to fire at them. The ones near them were dead now, but they could hear more wails from the distance. He looked back at Rose and found her mumbling and sweating. He packed his bag, heaved it over his shoulder, picked her up in a fireman's carry and ran the length of the perimeter trying to find the entrance.

With every step he could hear the wailing get closer. He tripped over a root and landed face first, Rose was thrown away from him. He turned to his side and realised that the undead had split up into groups towards him and Rose.

Just as one of them reached Rose, it was shot. The remaining were shot down quickly with what Walker recognised as automatic fire. Walker raised his head and saw two jeeps converging to their positions. The vehicles stopped quickly and the soldiers jumped out grabbing Walker and Rose.

“This girl's bit,” one soldier said.

“Leave her,” said another.

“No, she comes,” said Walker.

“Are you crazy?” asked another soldier.

“I have the cure,” said Walker.

The soldiers looked at each other. Finally one of them went back to the jeep and talked on the radio.

The wails could be heard from the distance again.

“Hurry up, Alex,” the first soldier shouted.

“What's your name?” the soldier with the radio shouted pointing at Walker.

“Walker,” he shouted back.

He went back to speaking on the radio, finally he came jogging up to the group.

“You have two choices with the girl: you can either put a bullet in her head or she comes in as a test subject for the cure. What will it be, sir?”

Walker was conflicted, he could either end her suffering for her or possibly provide a new beginning but if the cure did not work he would be dooming her as a lab rat. The wails were getting closer.

“Sir, hurry up,” the soldier said.

“Take her in,” he sighed, “let's see if this thing works.”

They were both taken in quickly as other guards fired upon the oncoming horde from the security of the high walls.

Twelve hours later...

“Hello. Mr. Walker. Thank you for making the journey, you may have played a big part in the reboot of humanity,” the young scientist shook Walker's hands.

“How is Rose?”

“Why don't you see for yourself?”

He was led into a large lab where he found Rose sitting facing away from them. Her hair had turned grey completely, the scientist saw him staring at it, “a side effect of the cure,” he commented.

Walker walked around the table and saw Rose staring at the floor.

“Hey,” he said.

“I'm only thirteen, I'm not supposed to have grey hair yet,” she said softly.

“Well,” he squatted next to her, “it's either that or this.”

Rose smiled at him and hugged him, “thanks for saving me,” she had tears in her eyes.

Walker smiled at her, she picked up a small mirror next to her and looked at her reflection sighing.

“You look beautiful,” said Walker.

“Really? Do you think people will look at me? Or will they think I'm too weird or something? Like a reverse zombie or a freak. I'm pretty sure boys will think that. My life will never be the same, I mean, there will be at least one person who'll think I'm a freak. I'm rambling now, aren't I? Arghh.”

Walker laughed heartily, “Ramble on Rose.”

THE END