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"The Plagued Prison"

Written by
Nicholas Thomson AKA MinionZombie "King of the Undead"

December 28th 2001

(This story is extremely violent and depicts extreme use of bad language as well as rape. If you do not wish to read this story then please turn back, but if you do proceed remember this is merely fiction and is only trying to depict the human race in a realistic light in concern with the events described within. Don't say I didn't warn you!)

The Serenity Falls Correction Facility was fairly small for such an institution. As such it was easy to isolate and much like Alcatraz, the prison it imitated, it was confined to a small island far out into the sea, away from the bustling streets of Serenity Falls. It had been built at the beginning of the 1980's during a time of increased crime rates in the area of Serenity Falls and other cities dotted around its position. The prison was needed badly and was therefore built hastily so that it constantly needed repairs or extra space to be added onto it. Extra floors to certain areas, or new wings for lesser offenders were constructed during the late 1990's until the final approach to the Millenium when funding ran out for expansion projects. The government was unwilling to spend anymore money on such a small-time institution and instead concentrated their efforts on other things.

The prison became worn and well-used, experiencing increasing numbers of small skirmishes or riots, but when the dead began to rise, the frequency for such incidents decreased as the guards and prisoners alike sat in awe of such God-like wrath that had been turned onto the world. However, as the situation became ever more threatening, the guards began to flee until eventually all the guards had disappeared about one month into the plague. Surprisingly, law and order within the prison was maintained and it seemed as if they had all been rehabilitated, well, at least most of them to an extent. But a couple of the more sly and plotting members of the group of inmates were looking for some senseless violence in this time of law and order in all it's chaos. They could get away with anything, and as time wore on they all began to want some fun, some violence, some death. They were going to get them all as their 'luck' shone on them when a call came into the communications room. A bus outside the perimeter of the prison was waiting, filled with people who were wanting to say goodbye to their loved ones before they tried to flee the country or to hide from the dead who roamed Serenity Falls in number, but not enough to endanger a large, over-bearing bus travelling at speed.

They were allowed to access the prison, the busload still believing that the prison was highly secure, but little did they know as they proceeded past the security fences surrounding the building. The large vehicle entered the front yard of the correctional facility; the inhabitants of the bus unloaded and entered the walls of the prison, never to leave again.

On their entrance they found what was really happening and as soon as they had all been subdued, beaten into submission and sectioned off into the 'useful' and the 'useless' one of the more adept prisoners destroyed a section of the single bridge that connected the prison to the mainland. They were cut off and they could do anything they wanted, and that was what they planned to do.

Any children in the busload were small in number and were sectioned off with the men and old women. The young to middle-aged women were systematically shut into cells and kept as 'entertainment' for the prisoners who were all keen to get their greasy, sweaty, repulsive and grotesque selves onto these poor souls who had been captured and set to a sentence they didn't deserve. Hell was walking on earth, but the Serenity Falls Correctional Facility was far from serene and was closer to hell than the city just one mile away from the isolated prison.

There were approximately fifteen females sectioned off to a cell each. They were all innocent and merely wanted to visit their loved ones before they fled the plague that chased them. Not all of the prisoners were animals, but those that were soon put a stop to any attempt to seize control and soon only the scum remained. The barest of all brutes condensed into one building as the moral prisoners and remaining visitors died of starvation in their cells and rooms in which they were kept. Within three days of their deaths they were the walking dead, and for anyone human left in multiply populated rooms, their fate was sealed. Their screams echoed out into the night and day as they attempted to fend off the dead by cornering themselves off or climbing to heights on shelving units, but within a couple of days those who had not died of extreme starvation and become zombies themselves, became the walking dead after they had been eaten alive or managed to end their existence for themselves temporarily.

The females who were fed with bread and water were kept alive and within a week, each poor soul had been raped at least ten times by a number of mad animals that preyed on such innocents. Half the people left alive and in control of the prison were rapists; the rest were murderers of women or just plain insane. But as the women's ordeal became more and more traumatic they began to die from a range of causes, usually they were so brutally raped they were dead at the end of their twentieth ordeal. Girls as young as twelve were subjected to the most degrading and disgusting acts know to man and the oldest were also found dead in their cells either by their own means or by the hands of their attackers.

Now only two women were left alive, Sarah and Amy. Sarah was a mere sixteen years of age and Amy was a slightly maturer twenty-three. But both were just as traumatised and hurt by their numerous ordeals that they faced everyday. How they didn't die of pure terror and insanity was unknown to any of the mad beasts that attacked them each day, but they did, despite the fact they didn't want to go on living. They had been locked in their cells for over two weeks now and had been given the medical attention they needed by the 'kinder' members of the gorillas to keep them alive for more. It was disgusting, humiliating and tested their mental stability to the limits, but all the time, Amy was quietly plotting with herself, or Sarah too, as to how they could escape if they could muster enough strength and will power to do so. But somehow they were going to do so.

The dead that paraded around outside were grotesque visions of everyone's past lives, but the specimens that walked in confinement in the prison were marvels of manners compared to the below primate examples of humans that controlled the building.

"Fuck you!" shouted one mad brute as he threw a fellow demeanor to the ground.
The first oaf to advance on Sarah today had been thrown to the ground with an almighty crash and did not get up until after Sarah had been humiliated once more. This time it was more angered than she had had before and she was left in agony on the floor, her aching body twisted and bleeding. She was on the brink of becoming a walking monster herself, but somehow God had dealt her the hand she was allowed and she had to stick with it as no matter how hard she tried to kill herself, she couldn't manage it each time.
"Get the fuck out of my way motherfucker!" boomed Sarah's first rapist of the day as he crawled from Sarah's putrid cell.
"Yeah and good-fucking-morning to you to asshole!" replied the second brute to enter Sarah's cell.

It was a cold day; the wind was strong and blew in a sharp chill from the sea that surrounded the prison. Tensions were running high after a month, the inmates were technically free as their captors were not here, but they couldn't go anywhere as they were cut off from the land, they were still trapped and food was going to be running low at the rate they were eating it. Someone had to take control of the situation and Brett knew this.

Brett was one of the inmates, he was one of the roughest and most volatile of them all, but he was the only one out of the rabble who respected women. He didn't want to interfere, as he knew if he spoke up he would be lynched in under a minute flat. He had to bide his time until he could take control and had been doing so, despite his disgust, until this day. The fresh, cold air that flooded into the building awoke him from his slumber and he struggled out of bed, his bulging body, not of fat, but muscle. Unlike the rest of the prisoners, he had been using his 'free' time to keep himself fit. The others merely used it to abuse the women in their possession. Today was time to take over. He would call a meeting to discuss the food consumption and demand to take control of the situation. He would do this by any force necessary, and he was ready to crush a few skulls.

"Hey! Listen to me! I'm calling a meeting now! Right now, right here! Now pay attention! Shouted Brett from his elevated position on a desk that he had dragged from the edge of the cellblock in which they all stood.
The other men respected Brett and some even feared him. He was one of the big men on the island, but he wasn't quite at the top yet. There were still some who had plans against him.
"Pipe down!" he shouted to cease the dulled roar that still remained, but it soon dissipated.
"What's all this shit about then, huh? Why all these fucking meetings all of a sudden? We're not the god damn government, there ain't no law, not in here!" bellowed one bulky and super-un-fit specimen of repulsion.
"I'm calling this meeting now as it's exactly that attitude that's eating us into our fucking graves! We have to ration that food we have left! If we don't, you can kiss goodbye to freedom as you'll end up like them lot in there if you continue feasting as you have been this past month!" shouted Brett as he pointed his finger over to a large collection of zombies that clawed at the air through the bars they were imprisoned by.
"If you don't stop this childish activity then this is what you'll look like in no time. We've gotta work together to try and survive! And then we can all go our separate ways."
"Bullshit! I say it's every man for himself!" hollered one of the main plotters against Brett who was planning to take over right now. He stepped out from the crowd and began to run at Brett who quickly leapt from his elevated position and onto the charging body of his attacker.
Brett used both hands to choke the man at first, crushing his thumbs into the attackers adam's apple, initially stunning him. Then he took his right hand away to smash in the jaw of the growling attacker.
"Motherfucker!" bellowed the ox that Brett was entangled with on the grimy floor of the prison cellblock, the whooping calls of the men surrounding them filling the air.
"Fuck you asshole!" boomed Brett as he crashed his right fist into the face and then stomach of his attacker.
The ox began to spit blood from his mouth as a result of repeated blows to his jaw, spewing it into Brett's face of fury, which only gave Brett the reason to crack his attacker's face with an almighty blow that almost killed the man.
"Fucking die!" roared Brett as he pulled a knife from his worn, gray sock, lifting the blade above his head before plunging it into the opposing force's throat.
The knife dug deep and sent a sudden jet of blood across Brett, followed by a steady flow, which trickled onto the floor as the victor stepped away and climbed back onto the desk.
"If any of you have any questions as to how things are going to be from now on, just come and ask, and then I'll feed you to those things over there," said Brett as he motioned for a couple of his followers to drag the dead and still oozing body of Brett's rival to the bars of the zombie-infested entrance cell to the main cellblock in which they all stood stunned.

Silence befell the room as the zombies gripped the stained clothes of the recently deceased inmate, dragging the bloody corpse closer to the hungry mouths of the undead that quickly began to tear the flesh from the corpse they all feasted on for the next hour until everything they could rip off had been shredded.

The only sound to emanate into the cellblock now was the growling of one rapist and the moaning of his victim, Amy.
"And there'll be no more of this shit! Your fun is now over!" bellowed Brett as he stepped down from the desk, climbed the spiral staircase and began to walk toward the cell in question.
The first cell he came to was that of one of the dead victims, the body rotting already, but the stench was not so pungent due to the cold morning. The next cell was that of Sarah who sat huddled in a corner whimpering, on the verge of insanity. Brett disappeared from public sight and walked into Sarah's cell, slowly coming to a rest beside her.
"Don't worry now darlin'. I'm gonna get you fixed up after this, we'll see to those cuts and bruises. If another one of those animals even so much as breathes near you I'll slit their throats and feed them to those things, okay?" he said tentatively. However, the violent descriptions marred the help being offered and Sarah wept, keeping her face out of Brett's sight who stood quickly and left her alone.
Coming into view again, the still stunned crowd watched Brett as he disappeared from view once more as he entered the cell of Amy who was being brutally attacked once more.
"Did you not hear?" he asked.
"Fuck off buddy, you can go next!" shouted the grotesque vision as he wrestled with his struggling victim.
Brett tensed his fists and thrusted his body over to Amy's attacker, pulling his repulsive form away from the sobbing woman.
"Don't treat women like that, you piece of shit!" whispered Brett into the man's ear before he smashed his head into the wall, a smear of blood remaining as the new order dragged the concussed inmate from the cell, hoisting him onto his shoulders before throwing him from the second story of the cellblock. The body fell to the concrete floor quick and the inmate's neck snapped loudly as blood spurted from the face of Amy's last living attacker.
"Now the rest of you can expect the same fate, or a worse one if you even think of doing such things again," said Brett who then paused. "Actually, you can all expect it sometime in the future. If I don't like you, if you do something to piss me off, you'll die. So I expect there are lots if not all of you that are here now who won't be come next week I guess."
Brett began to descend the stairs and walk towards his desk.
"I would say it's been a pleasure knowing you all, but I know that you lot that remain are a disgrace to every known thing on this earth. I suggest you all get in your cells now."
"And what if we gotta problem with that?" boomed a man to step from the group who were all beginning to edge for their cells.
"Step closer and say that again will you?" asked Brett.
The bulk of a brute that approached was Brett's last remaining enemy to his take over of power. The sweat rolled steadily from this block that thundered towards him slowly. But Brett had no time to fuck around. He roared as he charged at his enemy, pulling the knife from his belt where he had put it a few minutes beforehand, holding it tightly before he crashed into the body of his final attacker and before he knew what hit him, the final brute fell to the floor, three deep stab wounds puncturing his stomach, lungs and heart. The sudden excitement had sent the mad brute into a slight heart attack too due to his mass and the lack of exercise he insisted on doing. In under a minute the man was dead and by the time Brett looked for the rest of the men, he discovered they had all ran to their cells in fear of their new 6ft 5 leader. There was just one man left out who had locked all the other cells, but he was now heading to his own in fear, Brett locking him in quickly as he paraded around in front of his newly won minions.

They were under his control now; Brett had taken over the control of the entire building and had reduced a rabble of hard-asses into a crowd of fearing rats in less than ten minutes. Not bad for a days work he thought to himself, not bad.

Brett passed a cell occupied by a wide-eyed individual who looked out of place in a rabble of brutes, but had managed to pass himself off as one. He caught the attention of his new leader, drawing him to the bars of the cell.
"Brett, not all of us are like them mad brutes. There are a few of us who didn't rape them girls. We didn't want to, we just went into those rooms and pretended to attack them so that the others wouldn't kill us like they did all them others," whispered this man. Brett looked deep into the man's eyes and could see he was telling the truth, no way was this man capable of defiling several women each day. Not a chance.
"Which ones then? Which ones are like you? Which ones should I spare?" asked Brett as he reached for his bloody knife, wiping the gore onto his shirt.
"The others are all in the cells to the left of this one, I figured I could get your attention, so I kinda organised us out."
"What were you before you ended up here?" asked Brett as he stepped back a moment to glance down the other cells, seeing the wide-eyed, sweating fear of the others who hadn't become mad brutes, but pretended to be to survive another day. These men would be useful. If they could survive amidst these prehistoric animals, they would be major assets against the zombies that were left roaming the prison in their confined spaces.
"I was a gardener," said the man as he trembled with fear.
"Okay. I'll find out why you ended up here later, what's your name?"
"Joey. I ended up here 'cos my employer accused me off killin' his wife. I didn't, I swear, but the son of a bitch was all nestled in there with the jury and judge, he was one of them dudes always respected and shit. Son of a bitch set me up!"
"I see. Right, Joey. I'm gonna need the help of you and them others you rounded up. We're gonna kill these other fucks. You understand I'm gonna need total confidence in you and your buddies. If we kill off these fucking animals then we stand a chance of surviving on the food we got left and we have a chance of getting the fuck out of here."
"Okay, whatever you want. You'll have no shit from the others or me. To be honest I'm pissing myself right now," whispered Joey back to Brett who was stepping back to proceed towards the release mechanism to let out the allies he had discovered. As he began to walk away he gave Joey a quick wink to reassure him.

The controls were simple enough, just a series of buttons to be pushed, all labeled neatly and Brett went about releasing the members of his new army who all stepped out into the cellblock floor once again, all cowering at the sight of Brett who led them all off into the guard's room at the end of the cellblock near the large cell full of zombies that growled and sniffed at the food that walked by them, just out of reach of their clawing hands.

"Right, I got you guys out as our dear friend here, Joey, alerted me to the fact that you guys are okay," spoke Brett quietly. "Now I understand the fact that you guys are a little scared right now, well, don't be. We're gonna get rid of those others and we're then going to figure out how the hell we get out of this place. But we've gotta kill all them others somehow without them knowing. Any suggestions?" asked Brett as he looked around the small room at the wide-eyed expressions of his new army.
"Poison," muttered one man. "We could poison their food later tonight. No problem."
"Good idea, what's your name?"
"Ed."
"Okay Ed, good idea. Now who are the rest of you?" he said as he looked at the remaining un-named.
In order they stated their names, Johnny, Kurtz and Williams.
"Right, now that we all know each other now I wanna make something absolutely clear. If I find out that any of you have been lying to me and did rape them girls, you can assure yourselves that this will be the last face you see before I feed you live to those fucking zombies!" stated Brett.
The others all let their eyes-widen a little more to their maximum ability.
"No problem there, Brett. You don't have to worry about any of us. The last thing I'll be doing is any of that shit, all I wanna do is get back to my wife and kids in Kansas," spoke Johnny.
"Well, as long as we get these others dead tonight and we can find a way off this god-forsaken island, I can assure you Johnny, that we'll all be going our separate ways to our separate lives. As long as they're still out there," finished Brett as he glanced over to the cell load of zombies near them. "I'll get on that poison situation, the rest of you just get the little food ready for the others."

Joey, Williams, Kurtz and Johnny went about their orders and paid a visit to the canteen where they took a large ladle full of slop from one of the over-sized pots sitting on a grubby metal work surface for each bowl for the other inmates. One dollop was little in comparison to how much they had left, so it was okay to waste this food on poisoning, after all, it was going to rid them of their dictating 'brothers.'

Meanwhile, Brett was rummaging about in the utility room and came across a large bottle of rat poison, which noted that it was toxic and extremely dangerous.
"Perfect," he muttered to himself as he whipped it off the shelving unit that it had sat on along with other chemicals and tubs of materials.
Walking along the dull service corridor back towards the cellblock that he called home he was careful to conceal the poison, just incase he had been betrayed by his new allies. But he hadn't and as Brett entered the canteen, which was connected to the cellblock via another long and dull corridor, he let out a sigh of relief as he suddenly thought things could only get better. However, he was ignoring the relatively low-threat of the zombies that were baying for more blood, contained in cells fit for mad brutes and psychopaths.
"Everything set?" whispered Brett as he entered the canteen, lifting the bottle of poison out of his pocket when he neared the metal work surface on which sat several bowls of slop, ready to be poisoned.
"What you get?" asked Joey.
"Rat poison. That should take them down a notch or two," smiled Brett as he snapped the cap off the bottle, letting it clang to the floor with a sharp, plastic echo.
He poured at least two shot glass loads of poison in each bowl and then finished off the bottle evenly between the deadly meals.
"Right, time to serve supper," he said as he threw the empty bottle of poison aside, letting it smash into pieces that scattered across the floor.

The locked-up inmates were beginning to regain their sense of freedom they had been given a month ago and were beginning to get riled up, but as the vision of Brett entered the cell block they all piped down, graciously accepting their meals, which they were all desperate for, having not eaten in at least twelve hours. Going from four meals a day to only one that day so far was too much for them and they all began to wolf down the poisonous mix. However, as one man directly in front of the slightly grinning Brett sniffed his meal he suddenly caught on. He hadn't eaten any of it yet, but all his other buddies were almost finished and were swallowing their last mouthful as the suspicious inmate yelled out into the quiet arena.
"The fucker's poisoned it!" echoed the accusation.
"Shut your fucking mouth you ungrateful son of a bitch!" roared Brett as he charged to the release mechanism, pressing the button for the accuser's cell to open. As soon as the squeaking of grinding metal stopped, Brett leapt into the cell, knife flailing like a crazy man. The screaming of the accuser rang out and echoed all the way up to the cellblock roof, which was 4 stories away from the grimy floor.

As the screaming turned to yelping and then silence, the other inmates who were currently digesting and slowly approaching zero hour clung to their cell bars, trying to see what was going on, but as Brett stepped from the cell of the accuser the situation turned itself into a bloodbath. As Brett stood there in front of his remaining enemies, soaking in blood, which he wiped from his bare hands and tired face, he saw the first couple of men feel a twinge in their stomachs. They groaned, gripping their over-sized bellies.
"What the fuck! What the fuck have you done to us you pig?" shouted one man as he collapsed to his knees, coughing up blood as the toll being taken on his body by the invading poison did its worst.
"You fuck! You fuck! You fucking poisoned us!" gargled the second inmate to go down to his knees, wailing in agony as the rest of the men realised it was true as their bellies growled in pain, blood rising through their throats, bursting out their mouths.
"Goodnight gentlemen," spoke Brett softly as his fellow conspirators entered the room, all standing beside him to watch the carnage ensue. "I would have liked to do something worse to you, but in this circumstance I'll forgive myself," finished Brett as the first two men died in spasms on their cell floors.
"Well, looks like things will be looking up from now on chief," said Joey as he rested his left hand on Brett's towering shoulder.
"Yep, all we need to do now is find a way off this island and then we're home free!" yelped Brett in excitement, his planned execution coming to a close before their very eyes as the final man crashed to the floor, blood oozing from his lips. "Right, now I gotta see to those poor girls."
Brett turned to face the other side of the cellblock and proceeded to enter the small office to the bottom right of his view. The small, shabby room was the cellblock's medical centre and as Brett entered he quickly spotted several medical kits stacked in the corner to his immediate left.
"Perfect," he said as he scooped them up before he proceeded to climb the spiral staircase towards the cells of the two remaining women.
He walked slowly, glancing into the cells of all the other women, their bodies lying naked and still on the floor, why had they not turned when they died? Why, he asked himself, why? They had all been beaten badly, especially around the head, maybe that was something, maybe that's why thought Brett as he approached Sarah's cell, maybe that's why they didn't come back.

Sarah was still huddled in the corner of her cell, hiding her ashamed face from the view of anyone, but as Brett entered the room once more she calmed herself slightly, the quiet sound of the cellblock filtering into her head, the leering and snorting of her past attackers fading from memory. Brett's help was something new, something she hadn't experienced before, or at least of what she could remember, all she knew now was the horror of the undead and the horror of her attacks.
"Don't worry darlin', I'm gonna sort you out just fine. Now get up here on the bed," instructed Brett, helping the slightly reluctant Sarah onto the ground zero of her attacks.
As Brett opened the first medical case he patted Sarah's hand to slow her tears and her pounding heart. The horror she had experienced over the last month had clearly almost destroyed her; she was on the brink.

Using bandages to dress her wounds, antiseptic to dab her cuts and a tender hold to ease her worry, Brett was able to fix Sarah up as best he could, leaving her alone for a moment stating "I'll be right back."

Entering Amy's cell he saw that she was in a slightly stronger state as she was older and had obviously been plotting on how to escape for some time, but all her attempts were futile and Brett's soothing hand was enough to let her drift off, sat upright against the wall she had propped herself against. In no time Brett had sorted Amy out as well and he lifted her into his arms gently so he could relocate her from the row of dead cells to another one on the ground floor. As he passed Sarah's cell he signaled for her to follow him.
"Could you carry these for me please," he asked, handing her the few medical cases he gripped awkwardly in his right hand. "Thanks darlin'" he finished as he began to descend the spiral staircase, eventually coming to a stop at the foot of the stairs, the sight of several dead men sprawling in their cells something of an amusement to him.
"You'd better close off that one's cell," stated Brett, pointing with his eyes towards the one open cell, which had briefly belonged to the last inmate Brett had to kill in order to survive. It had been a tough, bloody morning that Brett didn't want to repeat, but as he settled Amy and Sarah down on the metal desk he had used for his proclamation earlier on, he realised that he would have to face something similar in the near future. The leering, sagging faces of the living dead in the cells to his right a vision of what was to come.

Having gained some time to settle down and eat something for the first time that day, Brett wrestled with his thoughts as he sat alone in the canteen, slurping the cold slop slowly. Why had the dead arisen in the first place? It surely couldn't be real, but there was living, or was that dead, proof picking prisoner parts out of their teeth back in the cellblock entrance holding cell. Whatever the cause for the dead was, it was something that was out of Brett's mental ability to comprehend, he wasn't the smartest of folk, but always had good intentions, just always on the wrong side at the wrong time. His wife had been killed by a gang he had gotten on the wrong side of. The gang brutally slaughtered his innocent wife and they set him up with the murder so they could simply disappear into the shadows. But later the same day that his wife had been killed, when Brett was still unaware that his wife was dead, two of the gang members tried to break into his house and in self defence after a long battle with the pair, Brett managed to kill both men with his bare hands. On the phony evidence placed by the gang, Brett was convicted of murder in the first degree. As for the two gang members, he was given two charges of manslaughter and was sent to prison for a total of one hundred and three years. His life was over and he hadn't even done anything, but he couldn't prove a damn thing otherwise.

The slop that he ate was horrid to taste, but it was the best they had and it kept them going. For now this had to do. It was approaching midnight and the prison was totally quiet. The others were asleep, only the occasional excited mumble arose from the living dead at the sight of a rat scurrying across the floor or a gust of wind howling through the cold corridors. It was an eerie place when it was like this, but over the past month it had not been this quiet, there was always some noise, somebody fighting or attacking. There was always noise and since his takeover that day, Brett felt alone and almost missed the noise and excitement he had lived with over the last few weeks. This silence was on the verge of scaring him if he stayed there in the canteen any longer, thinking of his innocent wife and his son who was somewhere out there. He could be alive, he could be dead, he could even be a walking corpse. Brett couldn't bear to think about it any longer so he stood from his metal chair at the wooden table that was bolted to the floor. The room was dark, cold and a slight smell emanated from the corridor leading towards the cellblock. The dead were rotting, that was for sure, and soon they'd find a way to bust out of there. They were locked into the entry cell that led from the building's main hall into the cellblock and the sealed door behind them was their best chance of escape. If they crashed and fought with it enough they might be able to get out. And then there were the bodies of the poisoned prisoners Brett and his conspirators had killed earlier that day. Would they turn too?

Dragging open the towering steel doors at the front of the prison, Brett had decided to go for a midnight walk around the island to clear his head with the sea air. The breeze chilled his skin and so he grabbed a jacket from a rail nearby. On the chest was a label stating one of the guard's names and position. Brett smiled as he closed the door behind him before proceeding to walk over to the destroyed section of the bridge. There was a gaping hole in the bridge about half way on its structure. But the hole wasn't that big, only big enough to make it impossible for any zombies to cross. And that was why Brett felt safe when he watched several walking corpses opposite him on the other side of the hole staring at him in hungered glee.

Their flesh was weak and hung from their bones like soft latex. Their teeth were either broken or coated in blood and gore, gray when naked. Brett locked his eyes with one of the zombies and saw their pain, but he also saw their need to tear off his flesh and devour him whole.
"Not a chance, chief," laughed Brett quietly as he looked as the nearest zombies stumbled towards him, tripping and then falling from the bridge into the water below via the large section missing from the structure. The splash shocked the others who had watched in wonder as their comrade had plunged from their view. They couldn't work out what had happened, but were curious enough to sacrifice a couple more that also plunged into the dark, freezing water below. After this the remaining three zombies discovered that it wasn't a good idea to try and attack Brett, so they reluctantly turned away from a meal so close, yet so far, and wondered off into the darkness of the city that lay ahead.
"Serenity Falls, the Maine place to be," laughed Brett as he turned around and walked back towards the prison, taking a detour to the right to have a look at the dock at the rear of the prison yard.

The dock was totally made from large wooden poles and planks and had clearly seen better days. The wood was beginning to rot, the dock having not been used for many years since the bridge had been reinforced back in the late 1980's, a storm having caused major damage in 1987 that left the only way on or off the island for supplies via the dock for a few years. The council did not want to splash out the money for repairs straight away, so only enough was given to patch it up initially and then later repairs would follow when money was found. The Serenity Falls Correctional Facility was of little importance to the majority of people. They barely even glanced at it when the walked the streets opposite. As far as they were concerned it didn't exist.

The dock was the only way off the island for the remaining few, but they had no boat to flee the island in and what was more, there was little in the way of materials to build one. This wasn't a DIY store this was a prison. Not even the workshop where they made small objects held enough tools or material to make one. As far as Brett could see, they were stuck. Swimming was about their only chance, but what they would find on the mainland was anyone's guess. They hadn't seen many living people on the streets, they had figured they were all locked away inside their homes or in camps somewhere, maybe stowed away in the high school further away on the other side of the city. Wherever they all were, they certainly weren't anywhere where Brett could see them.

As the waves continued to splash salty water across the slippery rocks at the rear of the island, Brett began to head back to the prison, thinking of a way, other than swimming, that they could get off the island. It was past one in the morning when Brett entered the cellblock again via the service corridor, that was the only other way of exiting the cellblock as the main entrance cell passage was locked and contained at least a dozen zombies. The block was still quiet and as he entered he could just make out the sleeping figures of his new allies and the two women, the moonlight slightly highlighting their figures. However, there was a rustling that could be heard from the cells to the right of the service corridor entrance. Brett dashed out, expecting trouble to be on the loose, but instead he found all of the several poisoned prisoners now standing upright in their cells, clawing at the air between the bars. They moaned for release as their cloudy eyes darted about the immediate area until the sight of Brett came wondering into view and they all suddenly perked up. The most excitable ones pulling viciously on the bars in front of them while the others stared dully at Brett's moonlit face.
"Jesus," he spoke softly, pacing back and forward in front of the infested cells.
As he walked off towards his bed he glanced at the electronic cell control and then at the dulled lights in the guard's quarters across the way from his cell.

A week had passed and all Brett had been thinking about was how he could escape the island with the others. He wanted to find his son, but he knew that was never going to happen. But at least there was a chance of making it off this god-forsaken prison island. The sea didn't seem so rough today and that was a good thing. He was planning to make a move tonight and the rest were coming with him whether they wanted to risk the mainland or not. It was now or never, there was no use in just hanging around, thought Brett.
"Right listen up. I've figured out how we're getting of this island," spoke Brett as he stood from his seat at the wooden lunch table in the cold canteen. "I was out yesterday afternoon and I found an old boat hidden away down on the east side of the island. It seems a little shaky, but I think it will be okay for crossing over to the mainland. It's now or never folks."
"So we're going today then? Is the sea alright for using the boat?" asked Kurtz.
"Yeah, isn't it too rough? It's been blowing a gale out there all week!" boomed Williams.
"The sea is fine. I checked it this morning and again just now and it's still okay," responded Brett.
"But what if it turns?" murmured Sarah. "What if it gets windy again and we can't make it?"
"Yeah. What if we're out there and the weather turns. It's like a mile to the mainland for Christ's sake!" added Amy.
"Look. It's now or never folks! Haven't you noticed those zombies in them cells are getting mighty hungry? They're eyeing the lot of us up and they want to eat us for breakfast! I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm getting of this fucking island tonight with or without you. Those who wish to join me are welcome, those who wish to stay here and risk either starving or being eaten by them dead sons a bitches, well that's your problem."
"I agree with Brett. We gotta get off this island today. This is the calmest the sea has been for the past week, and who knows how long it will be before it is again?" said Joey.
"Yeah, Joey's right guys. I'm for going tonight," replied Ed.
"Well that's it sorted then. We're going tonight," stated Brett.
"But is the boat big enough for us all?" asked Amy.
"What?" replied Brett.
"Is it big enough for the lot of us? Can we all fit in the fucking thing?" shouted Amy.
"Well, not so much. I figure it'll hold around four of us."
"Well what fucking good is that then?" roared Johnny, throwing his metal cup of water across the room so that it clanged against the serving hatches of the dull canteen.
"I figured that the rest of us can swing alongside it. Perhaps even pull the damn thing if the current is a little too strong for it. Whatever folks, we're getting out of here today," said Brett persistently.
"Well it's not perfect is it?" boomed Johnny.
"Calm the fuck down, Johnny!" replied Kurtz who sat slurping on his slop, his spoon gripped firmly in his hand, which banged against the wooden table.
"All I'm saying is that this is a fine crock of shit we got ourselves into, isn't it?"
"Yeah well it sure is. But we ain't got no choice about it. We got stuck on this island, but I'm sure as hell not gonna die here! We're going tonight as Brett says. End of fucking conversation!" finished Kurtz who went back to swallowing the last couple of spoonfuls of the cream coloured slop.
"Any other questions?" asked Brett.
"Who's going in the boat, and who's swimming?" asked Joey.
"Amy and Sarah are going in the boat for sure. They're not strong enough to make the swim right now. And I figured whatever other two of you lot want in the boat, well you can scrap for it, but I'm swimming. I've always been a strong swimmer, so I guess it's just down to who wants in the boat."
"How do we figure it out then?" asked Joey.
"Well, for starters, can you swim, Joey?" said Kurtz.
"Well, not really no. I never learnt."
"Right, you're on the boat. Who else can't swim?" asked Brett.
Nobody else spoke up and the room descended into silence once more.
"Right, then I guess whoever out of the rest of you is first there can get in," finished Brett. "Be ready, we're leaving at midnight sharp. We'll take a gun each and some ammo. I think that'll do us until we find somewhere in town to camp down. But when we get to the mainland it's every man for himself, and we're splitting up when we land."
Brett stood and walked out of the room, closely followed by the rest of them. That night they were going to make a run for it. They just hoped it would go right.

The wind was still and the sea was calm, the moonlight bobbing up and down on its surface. Midnight was approaching and Brett was making the last minute checks of the boat as he loaded it up with enough guns and ammo for them all.
"Don't fail me," whispered Brett under his breath as he stepped back from the old boat and began to walk back to the prison cellblock.
But as he walked the power suddenly died and the building was plunged into darkness, the backup generator failing to come into action.
"Shit!" shouted Brett as he picked up his pace to a jog around to the main entrance of the prison.
Pulling the door open the screaming face of Joey and Amy came running towards him, almost knocking him down as they rocketed out of the darkened building.
"What happened?" shouted Brett.
"They're out! The zombies are out!" roared Joey, his eyes wide with fear.
"Shit! What about the others?" asked Brett.
"I dunno man. They were all in there when the cells opened. I think Sarah might be trapped. Kurtz, Williams and Johnny all got bit!"
"Fuck!" shouted Brett as he glanced down the dark corridor, which was only slightly highlighted by the moonlight that bounced around the innards of the correctional facility. Crashing around, bouncing off the metal bars and reflective surfaces. And sure enough as Brett listened, the sounds of the wailing dead could be heard, as could the sound of Sarah shrieking. "Shit! Joey, help me!" ordered Brett as he began to run back inside the prison. "Amy, you go to the boat. Wait there for us. If we're not back in five minutes you go by yourself! Go!"
Amy followed his orders and ran around to the rear of the island to wait at the dock as Brett and Joey disappeared into the howling darkness.
"Where did you last see Sarah and Ed?" asked Brett as they approached the madness inside the cellblock, the sight of a couple of dozen zombies staggering around on the cold floor, tearing at the flesh of Kurtz, Williams and Johnny who were now stringed out all across the floor, their blood smeared across every surface it seems, not to mention the gorging hands and faces of the undead.
"Sarah was up on the first floor. I think she locked herself in one of the cells."
"What about Ed?"
"I dunno, I think he ran off into the canteen, but several of those things followed him."
"Right, you help me with Sarah and then we'll go find Ed," finished Brett, the horror of the cellblock suddenly hitting him. The sight of those he had killed over a week ago walking around in their home once more, his fallen allies spread all over the floor in a scene fit for a battlefield.

The pair ran through the wondering figures of the undead, knocking a couple to the ground, but not alerting too many of them as the feast was enough to keep some of them occupied.
"How the hell did they all get out?" shouted Brett as the two of them ran across the metal flooring towards Sarah's cell.
"The locks went. They're all electronic! In the darkness the others were attacked in a matter of seconds. Those monsters were desperate to get out, and when they did they were ravenous!" boomed Joey as he smashed his hand against the control panel to the cells, releasing Sarah quickly.
"Come on darlin'. We gotta go now!" shouted Brett as he scooped her up into his arms to carry her down the stairs to go in search of Ed in the canteen.
Shielding Sarah's young eyes from the feast that was going on in the cellblock, the three of them headed for the canteen. The room was dark and Brett left Sarah in the corridor whilst he and Joey went in search of Ed.

The canteen was almost pitch black, but occasional spots of moonlight allowed them to make out the shapes of several figures gorging on Ed's mangled body.
"Ahhh!" Sarah's scream echoed into the room, alerting Brett and Joey who were on the other side of the canteen, near-vomiting at the sight of their comrade being devoured by a crowd of the undead who were ignorant to the presence of more food.
"Sarah!" shouted Brett as he and Joey turned to face the doorway to see Sarah's bloody body hit the floor as three zombies tore at her throat and arms. She was dead before she hit the floor.
"You bastards!" roared Brett as he began to run for the crowd of three zombies who were vigorously devouring the young girl.
Brett crashed into two of the zombies, leaving Joey to tackle the last one.

Lifting his fists high into the air, Brett let them come plunging down into the faces of the two undead attackers that lay in front of him, clutching to tear at his flesh.
"Fucking die!" he shouted as he caved in the forehead of one of the beasts before he did the same for the last one. But as he remember about Joey and the third attacker he realised it was too late. Joey had had his throat torn out from him, the creature that attacked him slurping the bloody flesh. Tearing with vicious precision to slice Joey's throat into pieces.
Brett looked on in horror, but he remembered about the boat. Standing quickly, he made his way out of the canteen corridor and back into the battlefield that he once called home. There seemed to be zombies everywhere, but there were only several that were anywhere near enough to him to pose a threat. Brett couldn't bear to see his allies being devoured by those he had poisoned just days beforehand. He ran with all his might from the building and round to the rear where Amy was just beginning to load herself into the boat.
"Wait!" yelled Brett as he ran into view, soaked in blood and full of rage at the loss of comrades.
"Where's everyone else?" shouted Amy in reply.
"Dead! They're all fucking dead! Those fucking beasts got them! Quick, get the boat untied and let's get the fuck out of here!" boomed Brett over the lapping of the water on the rocks surrounding the island.

Clambering in and then floating off into the water that was slowly getting rougher, Brett watched the dark figure of the prison slowly get smaller as he rowed. Rowing with all his might, he wanted to get the hell away from the prison. The plagued prison. The night swallowed the building whole, but it wasn't over for him yet and it wasn't over for Amy either. Hell for them had only just started to get warmed up.