The muscles flexed on Rudolf Kerman's arms as he lifted the weights up, and down, up, and down. The shirt was tight against his body and the movement of any muscle could be seen. His white shirt was not the right size for someone of his build, but it did not seem to bother him. His combat shorts hung casually against his tough legs.
He was sitting on the second step of eight. These steps connected the upper and lower tiers of the public square that he was in. Which was engulfed by the massive sky scrapers that guarded the steps he now sat on.
A baseball bat rested against his left shin, a cricket bat against his right, and a G36C assault rifle was lying by his side on the step. A rucksack also rested against the bottom step. He continued to raise his lower arm and let it fall back down whilst gripping the massive weights. Patiently he waited. A berserker caged by his own will. His golden eyes scanned the shadows of the buildings. Any movement, any sign of a threat, and he would neutralize it.
He felt it was his duty to humanity, to what remained of humanity. He did not know how many were left, how many survived. He had stumbled across a few travellers. They were emotionally scared and physically traumatized. He was neither.
The moan flowed over the steps behind him. The Germans ears identified it immediately. It was the call of a hideous creature defiled by disease and transformed by its new needs.
The former MMA, mixed martial arts, fighter rose. And after a brief moment of indecision, he replaced the weights in his hands with the baseball bat, done a one hundred and eighty degree pivot on his right foot, and marched up the steps with only one goal in his mind.
The creature, having noticed the tank of a man rise from what seemed to be the ground, started for him. Rudolf Kerman let out a blood curdling roar and charged, baseball bat raised, at the desperately unfortunate creature.
They met ten meters from the tops of the steps. The baseball bat collided with the creatures head. A murderous cracking sound echoed throughout the square. The creatures neck snapped with the force of the downward strike and a massive dent was evident on its skull. The German raised the bat and brought it down on the slumping beasts head twice more, this seemed to satisfy a craving he had.
His white shirt now covered in blood, he walked over to the steps. Swung the strap of the gun over his shoulder, the weights into the rucksack, and with a bat in each hand, jogged towards the main street at the squares far end....