“Did he get his message off?” Tommy asked.
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
We waited there a few moments longer. Restless-Leg-Syndrome Rex had finally stopped his movements when we dared to move again. I had just opened the door to the station and taken my first step in when Tommy spoke.
“It could be a trap.”
“You don’t think you could have brought this up before I walked in?”
“Sorry.” He shrugged his shoulders.
It was possible the entire pile of zombies in here were waiting for us, but I didn’t think it probable, mainly because the zombie I was chasing had to have been calling for help. They would have come streaming out to aid, not lie in wait. At least that was my thought process going in. The stench was a physical presence pushing on all of my senses. I swear it was so thick it was like a translucent wall that I could reach out and touch.
“Is there any need to go further in?” I asked Tommy. That we had found a clutch of them could not be denied.
He shook his head. I think he had been smart enough to hold his breath. Why I didn’t think of that was beyond me. We had a little bit of luck on our side; the store section had three gas containers. Two were on the smallish side, maybe a gallon, and the third was two-and-a-half. I snagged them and went through the door that Tommy was thankfully holding open. I took a big breath when I got outside like I’d been underwater for three minutes. Tommy drove a tire iron through a gas tank and we were in business. A fair amount got on the ground, but enough got in the cans that we were going to be able to go forward with our pyrotechnics show.
“You cool with your end of this?” I asked Tommy once I laid my plan out.
“Seems like you’re getting better with the ‘thinking out’ process.” He told me.
“Yeah, I’m pretty fond of my skin and of those around me. You ready?”
Personally, I was petrified. The last time I’d messed with fire, I’d nearly died. Sure, I got to meet Trip, but the odds that another kindred spirit like that lived in this area was slim—or any area for that matter. I wonder how he’s doing? I thought as Tommy headed back in. I was right behind him, the murky light offered from outside barely penetrating the garage bay, but what little did shine in was more than enough to see the nightmare bedded down.
‘How are they not crushing the ones below?’ I thought-asked Tommy.
They had to be ten deep. They were stacked more in a pyramid structure rather than the traditional cordwood fashion we’d grown accustomed to. Another new development. Tommy was almost as silent as a ghost as he ran around the zombies, letting gas from the two cans spill around them. He almost made it undetected; right up until his hip struck the corner of a workbox sending a lone wrench spiraling to the ground. I watched the glint of it as it circled downwards. The noise it made in the silence of that tomb was deafening. I caught the milky eye-shine of more than a few zombies as they heard the solitude of their domain being shattered. That they were awake and alert that quickly was another something new. Tommy started tip-toeing back to me.
“Too late,” I told him. “They know we’re here. Let’s go!”
I pulled a grenade from my belt. The truckers at Ron’s had left a lot of little goodies, this being one of them. The pile shifted as zombies began to come down.
“Go, GO!” I told Tommy as I pulled the pin.
I released the handgrip and dropped the grenade into the gas can. I’d cut off the nozzle of the can just for this particular effect. I truly wished that I could stay and watch the show, or at least have a camera set up so I could play it back later. I tossed the grenade-laden can, hoping that I had timed it to go off just as it reached the apex of the rapidly diminishing pyramid.
Tommy was once again holding the door for me. As I reached it, he grabbed my shoulder and launched us both as a plume of flame pummeled us at nearly the same time the percussion from the explosion hit.
“Holy fuck!” I said as we came to a stop from our roll. I had to shield my eyes from the brightness that blazed before us.
“We should move further away,” Tommy said, grabbing me to help me up.
I don’t know what it is about watching large plumes of fire and ash that fascinate men so much, but I was so transfixed I didn’t even notice the stream of zombies pouring out of the station. A fair number were on fire or had some serious bodily damage as the explosion had ripped through them. But for every three or four burning or damaged ones, there was one that was in pretty decent shape and they all looked like they had revenge on the mind. Or steak…one or the other.
“Oh boy, they look pissed,” I said as we started running.
Tommy was heading back the way we had come.
“Tommy, not that way,” I said, steering him away. He immediately understood why. “Next time I think we need a bigger explosion.”
I saw him nod. I took a quick glance over my shoulder, actually happy that I only saw about twenty or so zombies. An accurate count was beyond my capabilities at the moment, but once we found a place that was semi-defendable we should be able to dispatch of them relatively quickly before another hive could get in on the action.
“Do you think Tracy heard that?” I asked Tommy as we ran. “Because you realize that, if she did, she’s going to know exactly who did it.”
“You sure do pick strange things to be concerned about at strange times,” Tommy said, not slowing down.
“Yeah, it’s no joke being trapped in this head.”
“It’s got to be easier on you than those around you.” He may have muttered or it could have just been the sound of his footfalls echoing off the houses as we ran.
He slowed half a step and smacked my shoulder lightly with his hand. When he got my attention, he pointed to a small apartment building. It looked more like a giant house segmented into ten or twelve units, seemed as good a place as any. We’d put some distance between us and our potential eaters, but we hadn’t shaken them. In hindsight, I guess we could have, but we’d wound them up. They wouldn’t be going back to sleep anytime soon, and I sure as hell didn’t want them stumbling across our DPW spot. That fence wouldn’t hold them back, and I didn’t want to be rolling around in the back of the dump truck like a super ball for the next hundred miles.
I ran up the stairs on the closest unit. I reached a small landing. I put my machete away and moved my rifle to my shoulder.
“Hold on, I’ve got an idea,” Tommy said as he pointed to another landing that was across a narrow gap. He stepped up onto the railing and with little effort he bridged the gap. He broke through the lock on the apartment and a few moments later he came back out the door. “All clear.” Then he came back to join me while getting his rifle ready.
The zombies that had been tailing us the closest knew we had deviated from the path, but they weren’t entirely sure where we’d gone. They stopped in front of the apartment and started looking around, raising their noses to the air in an attempt to pick up our scent.
“I’ll give them something to smell.” I felt the familiar push against my shoulder as I sent them a high velocity projectile. The lead zombie’s head disintegrated into a plume of blood. He hadn’t hit the ground before his posse advanced on our location. Tommy’s rifle joined in and we destroyed the front ranks of the zombies.
“Shit…how many made it out?” I dropped the empty magazine into my hand and switched out. The zombies made the foot of the stairway while I was reloading. “No sense in saving any bullets,” I told Tommy.
“Is that what you really think I’m doing?”
I shrugged.
“Reloading,” he said, warning me. This was my cue to maintain a controlled but sustained rate of fire so I could keep the zombies at bay until he was back in the firefight. I was halfway-ish through my magazine, the zombies were close to midway up the stairs. We were going to have to employ our escape plan soon. Then my throat closed shut. I thought I was going to pass out from lack of air. I saw as the muzzle of Tommy’s rifle came back up and
the tell-tale click as he released his charging handle.
I pushed the barrel down just as he fired, the bullet slamming into the cement landing right next to my foot sending fragments flying.
“Mike?” Tommy asked in alarm.
“It’s Melanie,” I said, my heart sinking.
“We have to go!” he shouted, getting up on the handrail.
My niece was less than five steps away.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” I said as I joined Tommy. He launched and I was right behind him. She was snarling and hissing at me over the gap. I could see her debating about making the move. Tommy was firing again as some of the slower zombies saw our new location and began coming up the new staircase.
“Mike?” Tommy asked. “You alright?” He would fire and then look over at me.
I was staring over at Ron’s daughter, wondering how I was ever going to tell him and Nancy. Except for the blue tinge to her skin, she looked very much like my niece. Her blonde locks were matted to her head and her cute pug nose was wrinkled up in a snarl, but other than that, yes, she still looked like family.
I held up the rifle. She was leaning over so far that I was literally pressing the muzzle up against her forehead. “Do it! Do IT! DO IT!!!!!” I realized I was screaming this; trying to ramp myself up to do the unspeakable. My firing pin clicked, nothing. I tried to pull the trigger again and nothing happened. I turned the ejection port towards me, a casing was stuck between the bolt and the port door. “FUCK!” I cried in frustration and grief.
Melanie growled at me. She was alternating her gaze between me and the staircase she was on. The zombies were coming up the one we were on now. I noticed she wasn’t budging, she was waiting. Probably figuring we’d eventually have to hop back onto her side and into her mouth. She was a particularly clever man-eater, always had been I suppose.
“Mike, I could sure use your help,” Tommy said, trying to shake me out of my reverie.
I pulled the charging handle back and dug the jammed brass out. I released the handle and pushed the forward assist sending the bolt home. I blew through my thirty-round magazine as fast as I could pull the trigger. They weren’t all kill shots, but it definitely clogged up the main artery.
“Let’s go!” Tommy grabbed my shoulder.
He pulled me into the apartment. I watched Melanie’s eyebrows furrow in anger and frustration as her dinner got away. Tommy was busy leveraging a couch and a dresser against the door. He had them sufficiently pinned against a support wall that would make getting through that door some doing from the zombies. I was too busy sobbing to take much notice of his engineering feat, although I would later wonder why there was a dresser in the apartment’s living room.
“Mike?” Tommy asked, placing his hand on my back. I was sitting on a chair leaned over, my head in my hands, tears free falling from my face.
“My niece is out there, Tommy. I held her when she was first born. I babysat for her. I may have even traumatized her when I made her watch Dawn of The Dead one of those times.”
“How old was she?”
“I think she was seven.”
“You let a seven-year-old watch Dawn of the Dead?”
“She was very adamant. God I love that kid. What am I going to do?” I asked, looking up at him.
“The Christian thing,” he said, surprising me.
“And what the hell would that be? Exorcise her demons?”
“Put her out of her misery. And then tell her parents so they can begin the mourning process.”
“Is there another decision tree we can pull solutions from?” I asked, trying and failing miserably to lift my sinking spirits.
“She deserves at least that,” Tommy said.
“A bullet from her uncle…yeah, that seems fucking fair,” I said softly, anguish crushing out my anger.
Tommy said nothing more. What could he say? Zombies were at the door to the apartment, luckily, his make-shift defenses were holding.
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
“I’ll come with you.”
He knew where I was going and what I was going to do, and ultimately, it was our only avenue of escape. I went into the back bedroom, my boots pressing down on the soft pile of the rug, the sheer drapes billowing softly in a slight breeze. The bed was made and a couple of books were on the nightstand. At a time when I wanted my senses dulled, I was hyper-aware. Had I looked a bit longer I probably could have figured out the thread count on the neatly turned down sheet. I opened the window further, pulled the screen in and tossed it on the bed. I stuck my head out and reached up, grabbing hold of the gutter. The building looked new enough that I hoped the screws that held it in place would support my weight for the second or two that I would need.
I pulled my body out of the window and then swung my legs up and onto the roof. So far, so good. If it gave out now, I’d be heading to the ground head first. I pushed up with my right arm and then found myself atop the roof. Tommy looked much more graceful as he gripped the gutter with both hands and pulled himself up high enough that he was able to land on the roof in a standing position.
“Show off,” I told him.
Tommy had moved ten feet to my one as he headed towards the apartment front door and our ultimate destination. I was in no rush. This wasn’t like pulling off a Band-Aid. I wasn’t going to feel better once this was over. No, in contrast, I was going to feel infinitely worse. I was going to kill this girl and then tell her father I’d done so—deeper into the depths of hell I plunged. If getting my soul back had been hanging precariously on a ledge, I’d just sprayed lighter fluid all over it, lit it on fire, then decided to piss the flames out and kick it over the precipice.
I came up beside Tommy. He was staring over the edge and straight down at Melanie. “Do you want me to do it?” he asked.
I shook my head and thanked him silently. “She’s my niece.” I brought the rifle up and switched the safety off.
Her gaze shot skyward towards me. Above the din of the zombies banging on the door, she heard that small metallic sound. Of-fucking-course she did. Her once deep blue eyes were looking up at me; for a moment I almost saw the girl I knew. If I just stayed focused on them, I would have not been able to shoot. It was the rage contorting the rest of her features that made me realize she was gone and would under no circumstances be coming back. I never heard or felt the shot as my body rocked back slightly. I would, however, never forget the look of confusion on Melanie’s face as the bullet dug into her head and destroyed her brain. I’ll swear to the day I die, if that ever happens, that for the briefest of moments, she was lucid and knew that her uncle had betrayed her.
“Come on,” Tommy said. “We have to go before the rest of them figure out where that came from.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetie.” I turned to follow.
Tommy ran to the far side of the building and then just leaped. I was kind of in shock, and now I had to try and figure out what he was doing. I quickly got to the edge to see if he was alright. He was looking around and then up.
‘Come on,’ he was mouthing, moving his arm for me to follow.
“No fucking way. That’s got to be like thirty feet.” My body at this stage in my life could barely handle the shock of a five-foot drop.
“You can’t be this dense, you’re half a vampire you’ll be fine.” Shit, I thought as I steeled my courage to jump. I was in the air when he added. “And if you break something I’ll carry you.”
I hit the ground and rolled like I’d been taught in paratrooper school. It was probably a superfluous action, but I didn’t see the reason to take any unnecessary risks.
“I don’t think any of them saw us,” Tommy said as we headed out.
Tomorrow, when the zombies cleared out, I was going to go back and give her a proper burial.
Chapter 14– Doc Baker
They had pulled into a large warehouse through fences that looked as if they had been erected post-zombie. Two large mechanically run gates patrolled by
a platoon of men let them in after doing a thorough check of them all, looking for any signs of infection. Machine gun nests were strategically placed on the top of the building, allowing those up there to rain hell-fire down on any and all invaders.
“I thought it would be bigger,” Doc said.
Captain Najarian laughed. “I’ve heard that before. Come on, Doc,” The captain said as he led Doc to a hydraulically operated manhole cover.
“Down there?” Doc asked.
“Most of our base is actually down here. This warehouse merely houses the way in. Any problems with claustrophobia?” the captain asked as he descended.
“No more than the average person. I feel apprehension at tight spots.”
“The way in is a bit tight. After that, it opens up.”
Doc was happy that he had only to walk bent over for a few hundred yards. He had been under the mistaken impression that at some point the conduit was going to squeeze down and they would be forced to crawl. When they came to the end, a large blast door stood open. A Marine armed with a sub-machinegun saluted as the captain entered. When it finally opened up, he was amazed. The initial room was, for lack of a better term, cavernous. Man-made, but cavernous. A group of ten to twelve personnel sat hunched over computer monitors in the center. A large screen dominated the far wall; although nothing was projected on it at the moment.
“We’re attached to the grid, such as it is. We’ve found other holdouts, and we either try to retrieve them or send them supplies if they’re already in a stable environment. We’ve been able to uplink with satellites and have a decent communications grid going.”
“Impressive,” Doc said.
“We’re trying to mount a comeback, Doc. If it’s going to happen, this is where it will start. I’m hopeful, but I’m also realistic. Man is barely holding on. Even without the threat of zombies, man is turning on each other. We’re trying to restore some order of normalcy before we completely do ourselves in.”
For the first time in a long while, the doc found some hope. “Weapons?” he asked.