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 1

Escape Plan

by: Cozy_Glow
Stanley Ferguson walked casually down the corridor, glancing into each cell to ensure its' inhabitant was still inside and readying for 'lights out'. It was routine and quiet tonight, much to Fergusons' relief. Most of the lights were out in Alcatraz, minus the few who were getting a drink, reading or occupying themselves with other things. He would have to make sure they were getting ready of he would have to bang the bars, causing an unnecessary fuss. Ferguson stopped outside a lit cell and looked in at Salvatore 'Sal' DeLuca as he fill his mug with water. Sal looked up and gave a smile to Ferguson, an invitation for conversation of the friendly sort. Ferguson stood beside the bars, smiling.
 
"'Night, Ferguson" Sal said, taking a sip of water. "How's it been for your boy?"
"Tommy?" Ferguson smiled more. "Been alright. Turned 5 just a week ago."
Sal took another sip and stared at the cup with a smile. "Ain't that swell."
 
Ferguson gave a nod and went on his way to the next lit cell, a single dark cell separating Sal from another by the name of Michael 'Finn' O'Leary. The man was sitting on the can, reading a newspaper. He had been feeling a little off and had not moved from that spot for half the day, by the reports.
 
"Still up for the betting, Finn?" Ferguson asked.
"Yeah, yeah" Finn shifted his eyes to look at Ferguson. "I'll have it in on Friday."
 
Finn rolled his eyes and went back to reading as Fergusons’ attention was drawn to a cell just a walk across the corridor. Ferguson stood outside the next cell, looking at a dim cell with slight concern and confusion. From the dim cell, a serious of agonized cries for help were spilling, loud and long. Suddenly, the sound of a match being lit sounded behind Ferguson, and he turned to see Billy Handsome.

“Are you going to shut him up?” Billy lit his smoke. “Or will I have too?”
“That’s enough.”

Ferguson sneered and banged the bars in warning, but Billy remained calmly lighting his match. Another cry for help came from the cell and Ferguson quickly strolled to stand at the door, looking in at the figure on the floor. Albert ‘The Weasel’ Arlington was holding his stomach and groaning in pain, making a loud fuss.

“You gotta get the doc!” he cried from the floor.
Ferguson growled annoyance. “This better be real serious, this time, Arlington.”

He snatched up the keys, unlocked the cage door and marched inside. There was a brief moment of silence that was shattered by the sickening thud of a body hitting the cold cement. At the very moment that Ferguson came close to Albert, the man reached up, grabbed hold of the guards collar, got reefed up as the guard stumbled back and then, with quick reflex, Weasel whipped out a knife from his sleeve and stabbed it into the guards’ chest and stomach multiple times. Ferguson was dead before his body hit the ground.
Weasel snatched up the keys, looked cautiously around, then dashed over to Sal and let him go. Sal took the time to sip from his mug, before stepping out to part-freedom with Billy, Finn and Weasel. Billy proudly stepped out, four Python revolver guns in his hands.

“From the Wardens’ personal collection” he grinned.

Each of them took a gun, silently admiring the crafty mans’ work. Suddenly, the sound of soft, uneven footfalls sounded from Arlingtons’ cell. They all looked over to see the guard standing, swaying on his feet, doubled over, head bowed. Weasels’ eyes grew wide with shock and the others glared at him.

“I killed him!” Albert squeaked.
“You’ve been in the joint too long, Al” Billy said, eyebrows raised. “You’ve forgotten how to kill!”

The guard shuddered, then leaned back as far as humanly possible and shrieked an unearthly sound, before glaring with dead, red eyes at the four men before him. The men were shocked and motionless, but not for long. Billy stepped forward, lined up his gun and shot the guard in the chest, under the right shoulder. The guard looked at the wound, then glared hatred at Billy.

Billy gaped.. “The f--k?!”

Lining up beside him, Sal, Finn and Weasel aimed and shot at the deranged guard as he progressed towards them, hatred burning in the terrible red eyes like fire in Hell. By a miracle, the guard fell with every round in him. The mobsters breathed a sigh in unison, but it was quickly regretted as more howls and screams of unearthly origins sound from all around them.

“Something’s not right, boss” Albert said, looking slowly upwards to the second floor balcony. “Something weird is going on here.”

The other mobsters followed his gaze to look in horror at the masses of dead men progressing down towards them. Each quickly reloaded and prepared to fight, gun faced towards the enemy advancing quickly. Billy fired first, then everyone shot at the quickly advancing mob of dead men. Weasel looked quickly at his comrades, before stepping back and back, until he was out of sight, then he made a run for it. No one saw him, no one cared.
Finn charged forward, smashing a zombie with his gun, shooting at another as it approached. Sal hit with gun and shank, shooting far away zombies with accuracy as Billy used anything and everything he could touch to splattered dead blood and parts. Weasel didn’t look back, but he could hear it all: his comrades attacking, the zombies dying and the ones hot on his heels. He would get away. He would be safe. He knew he could. He just had to get away!
Suddenly, a zombie jumped down to land in front of him. Albert screeched to a stop and fired a shot, but another took its’ place and another and another. Albert gulped and went to fire again, but the Python only clicked. Out of ammo! Before Albert Arlington could even think, the zombies behind him caught up and swarmed around him, biting and pulling and scratching, but Weasel only closed his eyes and fell back. He was first to fall, but certainly not the last.
Distracted by his furious head stomping, Finn was grabbed from behind and roughly thrown into a wall. Zombies pinned him there as others bit and tore, his screams an encouragement. Billy and Sal watched for just a second, before making for a retreat into the cafeteria. Suddenly, a shrieking zombie shot out of Billys’ blind-spot and latched onto his right arm, teeth sinking into his shoulder and neck. Billy tried hitting it, but his reach was miserable. Sal and Billy locked eyes just as Sal locked the cafeteria gates, eyes less of hope now. Billy gave a small shriek of pain that turned into an agonized groan of death as a zombie torn at his throat and chest.
Shaking, Sal turned around to face zombies on all sides. He barely breathed and they were on him, scratching, biting and tearing, all in sync with his cries of pain. Alcatraz shook with the cries and screams of the dead, before a lightning strike lit up the world...

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