Photo Novel Empire

DEAD AMONG THE LIVING CHAPTER 3: A SEARCH FOR SHELTER

It has been another day in chaos, Screechers grumbled and roared everywhere they went, scraping for every course of food, living or not.

Already, the Republic, and even the many Jedi Generals fighting on Bondo III have been infected by the contagious disease now made weapon of war.

Forever will the Republic remember the tragedy of Bondo III, a world destroyed under mysterious circumstances, and torn from the inside and out.

Now a band of Republican survivors travel on foot searching desperately for good shelter, preferably at great heights.

Bronze, a Clone Trooper of the Grand Army of Republic holds up his blaster as to halt the followers,

"I have a visual...three Screechers, no hostages."

"Any sign of weapons or supplies?" Jedi General Zen Utaru questioned,

"No, no there never is." Republic Peace Officer Tim Rolando grumbled, negatively, "Survivors with a will to survive and a ship toke all and flee. We might as well start adding our arms to the menu."

Bee-weeeer, bbb! Replied Astromech Droid K1-R4.

"K1 is right, for a guy that can live on his own lousy jokes, Tim sure is negative." Bronze observed.

"Now enough talk, let's kill some cannibalistic psychos!"

In a flash of light, the three Screechers fell to the ground in fiery ball of light, screaming as if life meant something to mindless flesh eaters.

"You are a good shot, Bronze, I'll give you that." Zen complemented, knowing that the flesh eaters killed moments ago were once soldiers of the Republic.

"Well, there were two others better than I, which is exactly how I ended up with the name." Bronze replied hardly blushing.

"Just wait until I get a gun, Bronze..." Waxer challenged, "then we'll see who the real shot is." After looking around, Waxer sighed in disappointment, asking even though he new the answer was futile, "'You guys see a weapon of any kind at all?"

Seeing that Waxer was low on self confidence, Zen decided to comfort the Clone, "Waxer, you are not a liability, but a gift, and a part of the key to our survival, keep that in your mind."

Feeling reassurance, Waxer managed a soldier's grin as he kept the fire in his eyes kindled.

"Thanks, General Utaru. You remind me much of Kenobi on the many missions we were sent on."

"Do I? I have never realized that, and never dared either." Zen replied, smiling with blushing pleasure.

Returning to the task at hand, Bronze stepped to the entrance of the apartment complex, "Hey guys, do you think Screechers are attracted to noise?"

"Well," Tim replied, "It would make sense, sound is created by a living subject...or at least when someone is around."

"I would have to agree with Tim, fire a blast into the building." Zen ordered,

And in doing the so, the blast creates an echoing roar, and didn't silence until a few seconds later.

Quickly, the five race for the walls, hoping to not be spotted. The sound of feat and hands slapping the ground as the Screechers made their way towards the exit sent dark cold chills down their spine. The air became breathless, and silent, and the fingers on the soldiers trembled, dripping of sweat.

"SSSSSCCCCCRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEECCCCCHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" cried out three limb-missing Screechers as they crawled out into the open...

...Followed by a large group of other infected individuals.

"They just keep coming." Bronze carefully observed in a silent whisper.

"There's so many." Tim grumbled in awe amazement, "It's like a nightmare..."

"...In a universe of nightmares!"

"What in star's end could have caused this?" Waxer rhetorically questioned,

"I don't know..." Tim replied, ignoring the fact that Waxer sought an answer, "probably some kinda rare disease that happens every million years."

"General Zen," Waxer gasped in despair, "thats Padowan Gungi..."

"I-I...I can't believe it."

"There's no way this could be a disease, something or someone did this to the innocent people of Bondo III." Zen moaned full of sadness. "I'm going to find out what happened before I leave this purposeless cursed planet of the Republic."

Thinking the last of the Screechers left the complex, Bronze quietly calls to Zen, "General, I think we can go now."

"I can't watch this anymore."

Once they reached the roof top of the building, they barricaded and sealed the doors shut using Zen Utaru's light saber blade. Now, the five survivors find themselves surrounded by dead corpses, all victims of the Screechers.

Humanoids, Twi'leks and everything in-between lay dead on the ground, killed in the worst way anyone could think.

But even with so much death, a hope has risen as Waxer spots a weapon, and possibly his ticket to survival.

"It's sickening, Everywhere we go something is bloody dead!" Tim roars,

"I couldn't agree more, Tim. Come, let's move these bodies out of the way."

"In this chaos, there is a silver-lighting: I'll be able to show Bronze who the better shot is." Waxer says attempting to lighten the mood.

"We'll see, Waxer. Now you get the burnt Twi'lek with the missing limb and cut-off head."

"So, General," Tim asks tightening is grip on his DC-15 Assault Rifle, "what are we doing after?"

"We'll make a fire," Zen replied coolly, "then we'll plan later."

"Um...OK." replies Tim with slight unease with the fact that fire could possibly attract Screechers, but blew the thought away as he noted the second possibility, "K1, scan the area for Screechers, subtract the amount below the building."

Scanning for signs of life other than the survivors and Screechers below, K1-R4 releases a few beeps and whirs for his reply, saying that there were a few dozen packs of Screechers within a three mile radius.

The group was silent as they realized that they were alone and surrounded by hundreds of Screechers. Knowing they had work to do, K1 spat out another series of beeps...