The Good, the Bad, and the Dead

Volume one: The Anderson Plantation by Neil Michael Burke It was the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and sixty two, New Orleans had just fallen to the Union and the Confederate forces were retreating across Louisiana. A small cluster of Confederate Militia were hiding out at the plantation of a Ms. Dixie Belle Adieux, a well known Confederate sympathiser who had lost her father and her two brothers months earlier when Union soldiers executed them. The militia men: Colonel Reuben J. Wash, Garcia Sanchez, Robert T. Jenkins and Jesse Adams were in the dining hall, being fed Tasso ham, potatoes and greens by Dixie Belle's servants when in ran the lady of the house; she had long, curly blonde hair and cool blue eyes from her father's Caucasian genes and tanned skin from her mother's Spanish genes. She was wearing an evening dress that she had made herself using old drapes; it was very well made, with drop shoulder sleeves and a rebelliously low neckline that showed off a little more cleavage than a good Southern lady should. Her feet were held in a pair of very out of place chestnut brown riding boots, she was panting like crazy and using the door frame as a support as she said, You need to hide. Wash stood up and with a large chunk of ham in his mouth asked, What the devil do you mean? Dixie Belle took a deep breath and said, Union soldiers are coming up the lane, and theyll be here any minute. Suddenly they were all up and pulling out their guns, ready for a fight; Jenkins was armed with a Kerrs Patent Revolver, a 5-shot back-action revolver favoured by the Confederate cavalry. Adams had a Beaumont-Adams Revolver, a reliable double-action revolver made in Britain, a pistol that was common with both Confederate and Union officers. Sanchez carried a LeMat Revolver, a deadly weapon with two barrels one on top of the other; the top barrel fired .42 calibre balls while the bottom barrel fired 16 gauge shot-shells. Wash himself had two Colt Dragoon's, heavy, large-

calibre pistols that had been invented during the Mexican War, a Model 1840 Heavy Cavalry Sabre was sheathed at his left hip; the sword had been designed for slashing and due to its heavy flatbacked blade had picked up the nickname 'Old Wristbreaker'. It was a very serious looking sword, forty four inches long with a 35 inch blade; it was a rather rare sword, having been replaced more than two decades earlier by the Model 1860 Light Cavalry Sabre. Wash looked at Dixie Belle as he drew out his pistols, If you have a basement I suggest you hide in it. He turned to Sanchez, a short, fat man with dark skin, jet black hair and a scruffy moustache, Take Adams, go to the barn, get the horses ready and stay out of sight; this is where we fight them. Yessir, he nodded and left with Adams in tow. Dixie Belle looked at Wash with pleading eyes, Colonel, I must protest, they outnumber you greatly; you won't make it out of here alive. They will kill you all. Wash looked at her and snorted, Then we take as many of these sons-of-bitches with us as we can. Dixie Belle marched out of the dining room: she returned several minutes later with a Pennsylvania Long Rifle and a small wooden box under her arm. By this time the others had left and only Wash remained, calmly finishing his meal, Colonel, I want you to use this. Wash looked over the four foot long rifle in Dixie Belle's hand and grunted out a laugh, You expect me to fire that thing? It's a thousand years old. Dixie Belle placed the rifle down onto the table along with the wooden box, Not a thousand, my great-grandfather used this rifle during the Battles of Saratoga; he killed many Englishmen with it. There's ammunition in the box. Dixie Belle turned and left the room, leaving Wash alone with the rifle. Outside, the company of one hundred Union soldiers from the 1st Louisiana Regiment, led by their commanding officer, Colonel Wade T. McNally approached the main house, passing the barn where Sanchez and Adams were on the left. Inside the barn, Adams, the auburn haired eighteen year old son of a blacksmith, turned to Sanchez, whispering, I'm gunna kill that fat old fart there, right 'twixt the eyes. Sanchez chuckled, he knew Adams meant the Colonel, grey haired and in his fifties, with a mid-section that hung over his trousers, Not if I shoot him first.

McNally turned to the soldier next to him, Captain Robinson, a youthful looking man in his thirties, Captain, have the troops dismount and - BLAM A gunshot crashed through the air and Captain Robinson's head exploded into fleshy fragments of bone and brain matter. Colonel McNally and his soldiers dived from their horses and scrambled for cover in the cotton fields. Wash stepped away from the window, smiling and admiring the long rifle in his hands, Well I'll be damned, he said to himself in a thick Southern accent as he reloaded. In the field, McNally un-holstered his Remington Model 1858 Revolver and turned to a thick set Sergeant Major, Take six of the men and get in that barn there; I'll take the rest and head for the house. The Sergeant Major nodded and quickly assembled half a dozen of the men: Sanchez and Adams were watching them make their way across the field towards them, Let 'em get in the doors there before you open fire, whispered Sanchez. Make sure they don't get back up again. As the Sergeant Major stepped out of the field and onto the dirt lane, a flurry of gunfire peppered the floor at his feet, causing him to dive back into the field. They're shooting at us! he exclaimed, stating the obvious as more and more gunfire filled the air. Jenkins was in the master bedroom, firing his revolver down at the soldiers in the field when Dixie Belle entered, now wearing what Jenkins imagined being either her father's or one of her brother's shirts, salmon coloured and loose fitting and butternut brown trousers with a beat up old duster coat. Slung low on her hips were a pair of Colt Army Model 1860 Revolvers, and she carried a Winchester Model 1866 Repeating Rifle in her hand. Slung over her right shoulder was a bandolier of rifle ammunition. Jenkins looked at her confused, as he reloaded his pistol. Tell the Colonel to get ready to leave, she said, replacing him at the window with the Winchester raised.BLAM BLAM With two shots, Dixie Belle had killed two Union soldiers with headshots: she smiled to herself, and sensing Jenkins watching her said, I thought I'd told you to tell the Colonel to get

ready to leave? Ah... Erm... Y yes, Ma'am, stumbled Jenkins before saluting the back of Dixie Belle's head and rushing out of the bedroom. He found Colonel Wash in the dining room, firing the Pennsylvania Rifle out of the now smashed window, Colonel, Ms. Adieux told me to tell you to get ready to leave. Leave? roared Wash as he fired the rifle, his shoulder absorbing the kick, Where does she expect us to go? She didn't say, but she's upstairs, firing a Winchester out of the master bedroom window. Dammit! Wash barged past Jenkins and charged up the stairs, finding Dixie Belle standing beside the window, reloading her rifle, What the hell are you doing? he spat, enraged, the veins on his forehead bulging and threatening to explode like the spit flying from his mouth. Saving your sorry guts, replied Dixie Belle, stepping back to the window and raising the rifle. Before she could fire, Wash grabbed hold of the barrel and spun her around to look at him, We're not doing this; we're not running, he said, his eyes burning with a fierce determination. We've done enough running; we need to show the Yankees that we're not a bunch of mama's boys. Dixie Belle tried snatching her rifle back but Wash's grip was too tight, These Yankees will kill you: there are a hundred of them, and four of you, Dixie Belle said, finally managing to snatch back her rifle. Now work with me and we'll get out of here alive. Wash looked from the Long Rifle in his hand to Dixie Belle before nodded ever so slightly, Okay, Ma'am. What have you got in mind? Dixie Belle smiled and patted her hand against Wash's stubble ravaged jaw, much to the Colonel's chagrin, Follow me, Colonel. she said, leading the way out of the bedroom. Dixie Belle led Wash down into the basement where her two servants, Marcus and Vivienne were sheltering, but they were not what she had wanted to show to the Colonel, no, she pointed into the corner where four medium sized wooden crates stood on top of one another. The he top crate was open, Have a look. said Dixie Belle. Wash peered into the crate and his eyes widened, a crease of a smile creeping across his face,

Dynamite! he exclaimed like a giddy school girl, Dynamite! He pulled out two sticks and looked back at Dixie Belle who smiling, said, My father always was one for planning ahead. Back outside, the Sergeant Major used the lull in the gunfire to charge across the lane and into the barn with his six soldiers: they slammed the barn doors closed and took a second to catch their breath and come up with a plan when it happened: Sanchez and Adams opened fire. The Sergeant Major got it first, straight in the chest: it was Adams who shot him and before the other soldiers could do anything about it. He and Sanchez shot them too. No sooner had their dead bodies hit the floor, Sanchez was upon them like a vulture, turning out their pockets and claiming their valuables for himself. Adams holstered his pistol and joined in: he was in the process of removing the Sergeant Major's boots when suddenly, the Sergeant Major sat up and bit a chunk of flesh from Adams' neck: Sanchez jumped and watched in horror as the Sergeant Major made a meal of Adams' neck: Adams was screaming, fighting to get free and begging for Sanchez to help but his half Mexican comrade was frozen to the spot, unable to do anything but watch. Having chewed through Adams' neck and hit the bone, the Sergeant Major, his eyes vacant and his face smeared with blood and small fleshy chunks, turned his attention to Sanchez. Sanchez snapped out of it with just enough time to draw his weapon but didn't have time to fire it: he screamed out in agony as the Sergeant Major grabbed hold of his head and sank his teeth in. Sanchez kicked and punched at the Sergeant Major as the pain burned into him but soon enough he stopped thrashing about or moving at all and slumped to the floor dead where the Sergeant Major continued in his quest to eat his brains. By this time, the other dead Union soldiers were stirring and a few of them were already tucking into what was left of Adams, tearing at his stomach with their dirty finger nails, attempting to reach his internal organs, especially his liver, kidneys and his intestines, the organs that the aching, empty pit deep within each of them had said were a delicacy. Out in the field, the noises coming from the barn had gotten the best of Colonel McNally's curiosity and he ordered two soldiers to investigate. The soldiers, a weedy ginger haired slip of a man and a chubby man with a thick beard dashed across the lane only to find the door locked from the inside. The ginger man turned to shout something back to the Colonel when all of a sudden, the doors opened and the two soldiers were dragged, kicking and screaming inside where they too were eaten, just like Sanchez and Adams had been.

In the dining room, Dixie Belle, Wash and Jenkins were each binding several sticks of dynamite together with string, twisting the individual fuses together to make one thick fuse, No disrespect, Colonel, but do you think this is gonna work? asked Jenkins. Wash looked at Dixie Belle and then at Jenkins, all he said on the subject was Of course it's gunna work. Dixie Belle left the table and walked over to the window with her rifle where she watched as Colonel McNally fearlessly crossed the lane and banged on the closed barn door with his pistol, Open up! he bellowed, That's an order. He got no reply and after several seconds, banged on the door again, Come on now! Don't be stupid, I'll have you all court-martialed! Dixie Belle turned to Wash and Jenkins, You might want to see this. Wash and Jenkins walked over to the window. Slowly the door creaked open and McNally took a step back, acting on instinct and saving his life in the process. A soldier, his eyes vacant, his face smeared with blood, his shirt torn open, revealing to McNally his intestines that were hanging out through a gash in his belly, Stop right there! ordered McNally, but the soldier kept coming. McNally took another step back as he raised his pistol, Stop right there, I won't tell you again! By this time, the rest of the troops had backed up McNally and all of them were aiming their weapons at the soldier who was still shambling forward. The soldier lurched forward and McNally fired; the bullet tore through the soldiers head, turning his frontal lobe to mush but still he kept coming. McNally fired off another shot that tore through the soldier's chest but still he kept coming, now within arms reach of the colonel who dropped to the floor yelling, Fire! McNally's troops all opened fire, blasting the soldier to pieces, finally he dropped to the floor, unmoving. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief that was cut short when the rest of the barns occupants stumbled out. What in heaven? mumbled McNally as he stood up, glancing around for his horse only to find that like all of the others, it had run away. Retreat! he shouted as he fired into the head of the Sergeant Major, Retreat god dammit! Dixie Belle looked at Wash, What should we do? an evil smile materialised on Wash's face, Absolutely nothing, let them kill each other. They're not just killing each other though. Dixie Belle pointed out of the window, They're

eating each other. McNally and his troops were backing down the lane, shooting into the shambling undead hordes whose number grew when someone was bitten; there were now over two dozen of them and they were not intending to stop. Having run out of ammunition in his pistol, McNally decided to use it as a melee weapon, smashing it into the jaw of one of the undead soldiers. If the soldier felt it, then it didn't show:he reached forward, grabbing hold of McNally's hand and biting off two of his fingers. McNally screamed out a curse and pushed his attacker to the floor. Quickly he looked around and to his horror saw only a few soldiers still fighting; the rest of them had succumbed and joined the undead. He kicked what had once been a Lieutenant in the chest and ran off into the cotton field. Wash spotted Colonel McNally running through the cotton fields heading towards the house and raised the Long Rifle, capturing the Colonel's head in his sights. He felt his finger tighten on the trigger and slowed his breathing, Goodnight sweetheart. He squeezed the trigger. The lead ball grazed past Colonel McNally's head: he felt it glide across his cheek and spun around to see the bullet slam home into the head of the Lieutenant he had kicked. Wash smiled to himself as he reloaded the Long Rifle, You're welcome, Yankee. McNally exited the field and darted towards the house when Dixie Belle appeared in the doorway, a bundle of burning dynamite sticks in each hand. What are you waiting for, Billy Yank? she smiled, throwing the dynamite over McNally's head and into the field where they exploded, blowing up several of the things. McNally ran past Dixie Belle and into the hall where he found himself looking down the barrel of the Long Rifle in Wash's hands: Jenkins was a few feet away with his Kerrs Patent Revolver trained on him. McNally slowly put his hands up, Don't be doing nothing silly now, Johnny Reb, he said, looking at his Confederate counterpart. Whatever the hell it is that's going on here, we'll have to work together to survive. Wash kept the rifle pointed at McNally for a few seconds longer than were necessary before saying, Okay, but I don't trust you, Yank. McNally also nodded. And I don't trust you either, Johnny Reb, he yelled out his hand, but

consider the war to be on pause right now. The name's McNally, Colonel Wade T. McNally of the Wash cut him off in mid-sentence, 1st Louisiana, I know, Wash took McNally's hand and shook it, Colonel Reuben J. Wash, 6th New Orleans Volunteers. McNally looked at the Colt Dragoons on Wash's belt, Care to loan me a pistol? I lost mine. Wash mumbled something under his breath and grudgingly handed McNally a weapon, You got any ideas on how we might get outta here, Yank? I've got an idea, interjected Dixie Belle as she walked further into the hall from the doorway, we use the dynamite. Dynamite? asked McNally, We're gonna need a lot of dynamite: they don't die easy. I think we've got enough, smirked Dixie Belle before turning to Jenkins. Bring the rest of the dynamite up: have Marcus help you. Marcus? called out Jenkins as he descended into the basement: it was dark and he could only make out shapes. Getting no reply he called out once more, Marcus! He still received no reply. Reaching the bottom of the stairs a voice stopped him in his tracks.Were not dying here because of you people and your wars. It was Marcus, and looking around the dark room, Jenkins couldnt see him. Then he saw the glowing head of the match ignite the short fuse on a stick of dynamite. He opened his mouth to scream but was cut off by the explosion. Upstairs the force of the blast shook the floor; McNally turned to his new allies, What in blazes was that? he asked. The dynamite, sighed Dixie Belle before punching the window frame and splitting the skin on her knuckles. It was the goddamn dynamite! Things change. Roll with the punches, muttered Wash as he raised his pistol. We're gonna have to think fast if we're getting the hell out of here. He fired off a shot and outside one of the undead fell to the floor. The top of its head now a smoking, bloody stump, And that's how you do it! he roared with laughter.

You might want to conserve your ammunition, Johnny Reb, said McNally as he approached Wash who gave him a dirty look in response.Whatever you say, Yankee-doodle, Wash put his pistol away,. We need a plan. he announced, in a rather strange moment of clarity that caught Dixie Belle and Wash off guard. Well in that case, we best think fast 'cause we haven't got long, replied Dixie Belle as she nervously looked out of the window at the advancing undead horde who had almost reached the house. After a minute, Dixie Belle turned to Wash, Wait a minute, you've got men in the barn - - Not anymore, McNulty interrupted, cutting her off, that's what kickstarted this whole shindig. Your men are dead. We're on our own. Wash absent-mindedly nodded along, Yep. That's what I feared, so here's what we're going to do... After Wash had explained his spur-of-the-moment plan, they immediately put it into action, and while Wash and his Union counterpart made a suicidal dash out of the house towards the barn, Dixie Belle covered them from the window with her Winchester. Me and my big mouth! exclaimed Wash as he cut down one of the undead with his saber. Tell me about it! agreed McNulty as he shot what used to be a twenty four year old corporal from Texas in the head. Sorry, son, he added as the body fell to the floor. From her vantage point in the window, Dixie Belle put down several of the undead with consecutiveutive headshots before having to reload. She whispered a prayer and stepped away from the window. Back outside, Wash and McNulty had almost made it to the barn when one of the undead lashed out at McNulty, cleaving flesh from his cheek, he howled in pain as he blew the culprit away. He collapsed to his knees, his hands clasped to his face as blood poured out from between his fingers. He had resigned himself to his fate and looked on in silence as three of the undead shambled towards him when suddenly Wash grabbed hold of his blouse and yanked him to his feet, It's not over yet, Yank! he bellowed as he put bullets into the undead union soldiers seeking to make a meal out of their former commanding officer.

Once again on his feet, McNulty followed Wash as he ran the remaining ten yards into the barn and slammed the heavy wooden doors shut. Now what, Johnny Reb? asked McNulty as he secured the doors with a heavy length of wood. Look at this unholy mess! exclaimed Wash as he looked around the barn; everything was splattered with blood, but there were no bodies. Just blood, and lots of it. Must have been quite a party, added McNulty, shaking his head. Now what? McNulty scratched his head and chuckled to himself as he glanced at Wash, I haven't the slightest idea. Meanwhile, back in the house, Dixie Belle had reloaded the Winchester and returned to the window only to find that the undead who weren't banging at the barn door were mere feet away from the house. She spat out an expletive and slammed the door shut just as she heard the first of the undead enter the house. Then she heard the stairs creak and retreated further into the room, raising the Winchester to face the door. Ready to shoot the first unfortunate thing that clawed its way in. A slow thumping on the door caused her to jump: quickly she composed herself and got ready to fire as another loud thump vibrated through the air followed by a rather weak, but familiar voice, Help! the voice croaked. Dixie Belle dropped the Winchester, Jenkins? she asked nervously as she slowly made her way to the door. She took hold of the door handle and paused, Jenkins? she asked again. Please, just let me in. They're coming.the voice replied weakly, they're coming. Eventually, after what seemed like an hour, Dixie Belle opened the door just enough for Jenkins to fall into the room before slamming it shut again. Jenkins was a mess, his skin had erupted in painful looking boils and was covered in serious looking burns; likewise his clothes were singed and torn. He was in a bad way and carefully, Dixie

Belle dragged him towards the wall where he could sit up. Weakly, between coughing up phlegm he asked, Where's the Colonel and the Yank? They went looking for horses, replied Dixie Belle as the groans of the undead drifted in from outside of the closed door. Going to die here aren't we? Dixie Belle looked down at the soldier she knew wouldn't last the night without a doctor and tried to act tough, No we're not. We're gonna get out of here. You promise, Ma'am? Dixie Belle gulped and felt tears gather in her eyes, I promise. McNulty emptied the empty shell casings from his pistol and let them fall to the floor, Seriously, Reb, we need to think of a game plan here. You think I don't know that! raged Wash as he threw his saber to the floor. I promised them boys I would get them home and now they're dead. All McNulty could do was watch as Wash threw himself around the blood-splattered barn, screaming in a fit of rage. They're all dead! Without warning, Wash launched a powerful punch that connected with McNulty's chin, knocking the Union officer back several steps, They're all dead! McNulty recomposed himself and rushed Wash, tackling him to the floor and splitting his lip with the grip of his pistol. This got Wash good and angry, even more so than he had been and he butted McNulty in the nose, breaking it and causing blood to explode from it like lava from a volcano. This continued for several minutes, with the two men punching, kicking and even biting each other before the loud banging on the barn doors brought them to their senses. Now what? grumbled Wash as he used the back of his hand to wipe blood from his nostrils. At that exact moment inside the house, the bedroom door finally collapsed under the weight of the undead, Go! Get out of here! yelled Jenkins as they shambled into the room. Dixie Belle

didn't need to be told twice, she quickly handed her Colt pistols to Jenkins before picking up the Pennsylvania Rifle and jumping out of the window and onto the first floor roof, snapping her right ankle in the process. She rolled off of the roof and onto the ground as the sound of pistol fire erupted from the bedroom. Propping herself up against the wall she quickly scanned her surroundings. Apart from a crowd of the undead trying to claw their way into the barn, they were more or less all inside the house. Good job, she thought, considering that she was virtually unarmed and couldn't walk properly thanks to her throbbing, swelling ankle. Slowly, and using the wall to support herself, she limped off, heading for the thick trees that surrounded the house at both sides and the back. She knew the forest like the back of her hand having spent her childhood playing in there and she knew that once there, she would be safe and could make her way into town. And that's when she heard it, an unholy battle-cry coming from the barn and she spun around to see the barn doors fly open and Wash and McNulty charge out. Wash was slashing at the horde, severing heads and limbs, cutting them down as if they were blades of grass whilst McNulty shot through what used to be the men under his command. The sight of the Confederate and Union officers fighting side-by-side made Dixie Belle smile, Over here! she shouted, alerting not only her allies but also the undead horde to her position, a move that she instantly regretted. Wash and McNulty had fought their way through the horde and ran towards Dixie Belle, who almost screamed in horror when she saw McNulty's face. What happened? she asked. I'll tell you later, replied McNulty as he put Dixie Belle's arm over his shoulder, supporting her weight. Hethen handed his pistol to Wash, There's two bullets left. Make 'em count. A wicked grin spread across Wash's face, I plan to. Now run! as McNulty and Dixie Belle headed for the trees, Wash ran back towards the horde, his saber in one hand, McNulty's pistol in the other, Come on you filthy animals! McNulty and Dixie Belle reached the trees and turned to check on Wash, who had disappeared into the horde and couldn't be seen, and then two gunshots rang out. McNulty looked at Dixie Belle with sadness in his eyes, We best get going.Dixie Belle allowed a tear to creep out of her left eye and run down her cheek as she repeated what McNulty had said, We best get going.

To be continued in volume two: A Long Night in Pleasant Valley.