by Stephens, L.
“Just give me a second, damn it,” Daryl said as he checked the number of rounds left in the assault rifle’s magazine. “Don’t be up my fucking ass. I’m fucking here right with you. I’m the guy shooting the shots, literally. I don’t want to stumble into another fucking war zone, okay?
“I’m sorry,” Leggings mumbled. “What’s your plan?”
“That’s better,” Daryl said under his breath.
Daryl hit the emergency call button again, and the elevator shot back to life. He took a tight grip on the assault rifle, aiming it at the door ready to let loose hell.
“I don’t have a fucking plan,” Daryl said to the ceiling, watching the lights change from the seventh floor to the eighth. “If I did, I wouldn’t be stuck in this elevator about to be eaten alive.”
“Mommy!” the little girl screamed.
The elevator opened on the eighth floor, and this time it seemed safe enough to step outside, as nothing was trying to burst into the elevator. Daryl kept his assault rifle at eye level and slowly stepped out, keeping one leg inside the elevator, so his newfound friends couldn’t ditch him. The floor was a sea of cubicles and a hub of hallways that seemed to extend out like the tentacles of an octopus—all with no clear indication of where they were heading, except for one that had the beautiful alluring sign above it that said exit.
“Alright,” Daryl said, looking back to the petrified group in the elevator. “Let’s go!”
It was like his voice was the pied piper playing his flute. Suddenly, from all angles, zombies started popping up, but mostly from the hallway marked exit.
“Wait, fuck!” Daryl yelled.
It was too late. Everyone had piled out led by the bald guy, and they were heading in the opposite direction. It was like a carnival shooting gallery, and Daryl was having an off night. He was going for headshots, but all he could manage to do was hit shoulders and sternums, nothing that would warrant a stuffed toy or an eraser. Even though he wasn’t on target, he had made a path to the exit.
“Come on, buddy!” a voice from behind him yelled. “This way!”
Daryl turned to see the girl in leggings and Nike Air Max 95 Essentials in the basic bitch black colorway running away from him, at the same time waving an arm for him to follow her. He considered leaving her and the others and making his own way, but being wrong in a group seemed like a better idea than being wrong alone.
“These mother fuckers are going to get me killed,” Daryl muttered as he started running after her.
CHAPTER 81: ZERO QUEST
Jake did feel a little guilty for leaving Jennings in the alley, but he already knew what was behind the corner, and there was no need for both of them to get killed. After he ran out onto the street and down the block, he came to a car parked half on the sidewalk. He pulled his gun and cautiously worked his way around the car just like in the movies, but there was no movement. The driver was dead, hunched over the wheel with a bullet wound in the side of his head. The driver’s door was slightly ajar, with the dead man’s leg keeping it open as his limp foot rested on the ground. It looked like a carjacking gone bad, and Jake thought if you were getting jacked for your Toyota Camry, shit was getting really hectic, but then he saw it: bite marks running up his arm. Jake kept his distance as he bent down to look into the car, and that’s when he put it all together. The guy had been bitten at some point that morning, and feeling his inner zombie coming alive in him he had put an end to it, right there and then. For a moment, Jake weighed up the pros and cons of the dead driver’s choices, and being a zombie seemed to have a lot more pros than he had expected. Rushing through life on autopilot, going to work, having kids and then dying a lonely death seemed way more tragic than meandering down the street in search of human flesh.
Gunshots snapped Jake out of his philosophical dilemma, and he turned his head back towards the alley he had just left. Pangs of guilt rushed over him, and in one swift movement he kicked opened the door and wrenched the driver out of the seat. The body flew out onto the sidewalk, skidding to a stop a few yards from the car, leaving a trail of Adidas slides in its wake. Jake slid into the now vacant driver’s seat and turned the key that was still resting in the ignition. The Camry’s V6 engine roared to life, and the AC hit Jake in the face with frigid cold air. There was a loud metal clang as Jake tried to close door, and he looked down to see a handgun near his feet, blocking the door from closing.
“It’s Christmas in here,” Jake said as he reached down and pulled the gun free.
Jake stuffed the newly acquired handgun in his waistband and covered it with his shirt, then rested the handgun that Jennings had given him on his lap. He wasn’t thrilled about having two guns pointed at his prized possession, but, even though it was becoming a bad habit, it was time to be a hero.
A screech that sounded like a trash can full of feral cats filled the air, and a flash of red splashed the alley as the remaining zombies in front of Jennings disintegrated. Jake used the windshield wipers to get rid of the blood that shielded his view. As the blood cleared, Jake could see a surprised Jennings, who was running with a horde of zombies hot on his heels, storming towards the passenger side door. Just as he was about to open it, Jake slammed the car into reverse and sped out of the alley, leaving Jennings looking over his shoulder to see how long he had before the horde would engulf him.
“Oh my God,” Jennings yelled as he started running again. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”
Jake spun the car around, so the passenger side was facing Jennings at the end of the alley, and he leaned over and pushed open the passenger side door for him.
“You coming or what?” Jake yelled with a smile.
Jennings slid in to the passenger seat, and Jake had already gotten the car to twenty miles per hour before he slammed the door shut, leaving a crowd of zombies in their dust.
“You thought I was going to leave you there, didn’t you?” Jake said as he negotiated a turn.
Jennings looked at Jake, and his fists curled into tight balls, and the veins in his forehead pulsed.
“I wouldn’t leave you, you know that right?” Jake said with a smirk. “You’re my best friend!”
Jennings ground his teeth and his breathing stopped as he looked at Jake who was driving as fast as he could through the debris-filled streets.
“Fuck!” Jake screamed as he hit the brakes hard.
The car skidded to a stop, and Jake and Jennings looked up in unison to see an arc of army trucks and Humvees with twenty soldiers pointing their weapons at them.
“Friends of yours?” Jake asked as he raised his hands.
Jake turned his head to look at Jennings, but all he saw was a large fist coming at him at great speed.
@KillingJake boy, you got knocked the fuck out! #LivinThatToyotaCamryDadLife
CHAPTER 82: VIEW TO A THRILL
He didn’t know where she was leading him, he just hoped she knew where she was going. Daryl appreciated he wasn’t alone and that she had thought to keep him a part of the group, instead of ditching him like he might have done to her.
“Watch out!” Daryl yelled.
Leggings jumped out of the way just in time as a zombie was about to lunge at her, but it didn’t matter; Daryl had stopped and aimed true, shooting him in the head before he could leave the ground.
“Thanks,” Leggings said.
“Go!” Daryl screamed.
Sure, he saved her, but this wasn’t the time for pats on the back. It was the time for running for their lives. She complied and ran further down the hallway, and Daryl began running again. He could see sunlight at the end of the hallway, but he could also see leggings looking back to him in terror.
“Behind you!” she yelled.
Daryl turned but continued to run backwards. To his shock, there were three zombies right behind him about to lunge. In trying to save some piece of ass, he had left himself open from an attack to the rear, something that a few years in prison had trained him never to do. He t
ried to shoot them, but running backwards while shooting an assault rifle was asking for trouble, trouble that would most likely include him ending up on the ground being eaten alive.
“Close the door!” the bald guy yelled. “They’re not gonna make it!”
Mother fucker, Daryl thought as he stumbled backwards. Here he was trying to save all of them, and this fucking guy was trying to cut them off from safety.
There was no bullet management anymore. He could feel himself falling backwards as bullet after bullet went into the three zombies trying to get at him. It was working. There was definitely distance between them, but they were still coming like a nightmare. Somehow, he wasn’t dead. He finally felt the sun on his head as his ass hit the ground and slid along the concrete looking into the darkness of the building. Leggings was waiting for him. As he slid through the door, she slammed the door shut before the zombies could make it through. There was a loud bang as they hit the other side of the door, and Daryl snapped out of his joy for being alive.
“Help me!” Leggings yelled to the others.
None of the other members of their group moved a muscle, but Daryl was already on his feet discarding the rifle and piling whatever he could find from the rooftop of any decent weight in front of the door. The group caught their breath in silence as they prayed that the makeshift barricade and the door would hold, and, after a few nervous minutes, nothing more than a minor thud and a scrape came from the other side. The mom sat down with her kid on her lap and leaned against the concrete railing that surrounded the rooftop. The kid sensed the brief respite in danger and began sobbing uncontrollably as the mom pulled her close, smothering her wails into her chest. Daryl picked up the rifle he had discarded and made sure it was working, pulling the magazine from the rifle.
“Fucking empty,” Daryl said to himself as he shook his head.
Everyone turned to him as he slammed the magazine back into its compartment.
“Whose idea was it to come here?” Daryl said loudly to no one in particular. “It was like fucking hell on Earth in there.”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” the bald guy said as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt.
“You lied to us,” Leggings said, holding her head in her hands. “There is no way in hell you could land a helicopter up here!”
Leggings was right. The roof was small and oddly shaped, with antennas and satellite dishes sprouting in clusters next to giant air vents, and to make matters worse the buildings surrounding the tiny eight-story relic made it seem like a toddler standing next to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, so even being spotted from the air was going to be tough.
“If I had left it up to you, we would have been broken down somewhere, and those things would have killed all of us!” the bald guy said with a touch of venom.
The city was a hot mess. Thick smoke filled the air, and sirens mixed with distant screams faded in and out like a party next door. The only problem was, when the cops came they hadn’t stopped it; they had joined in and were now doing keg stands in the backyard. A loud bang made everyone turn their heads towards the door, and the kid began to cry again, louder this time.
“Hey!” Daryl said walking over to the mom and her kid. “You are going to have to keep that kid in check.”
“What am I supposed to do?” the mom said, cradling her kid to her chest, trying to muffle her crying.
“I don't know, just keep her quiet,” Daryl hissed as he turned his back and walked away. “I need to fucking think!”
The sound of glass shattering made everyone look up to one of the buildings towering above them.
“Oh my God!” Leggings yelled as she pointed to the sky. “Is that?”
Falling from a smashed window high up in the building was a man dressed in a business suit.
“Jesus Christ,” Daryl said under his breath.
“Look at that!” the bald guy, said pointing above the plummeting businessman.
Ten feet above the businessman and falling at a faster speed were two zombies in blood-covered suits. It took less than a couple seconds for the zombies to reach the businessman and begin devouring him in midair, but luck was on the businessman’s side, because within seconds they all reached the ground at terminal velocity. Even though they couldn’t see the impact from their vantage point everyone turned away instinctively.
“What the fuck is going on in this world?” Daryl whispered.
CHAPTER 83: PANIC AT THE DISCO
Let us try to recognize the precious nature of each day
― Dalai Lama XIV
Sarah stood up. She couldn’t handle sitting on the ground any more. She could feel a panic attack coming, and she didn’t want to freak out in front of strangers, not just yet anyway. She decided she needed to be proactive about the situation and began looking around the rooftop for a way out.
“Ryan, right?” Sarah said quickly to Ryan as she moved past him. “Is there a fire escape?”
“Over there,” Ryan said as he pointed towards the side of the building. “But, you’re not going to like it.”
Sarah walked straight over to the edge of the building and looked down. Ryan was right. The metal fire escape was rusty and seemed to not have been well maintained.
“Be careful!” Ryan called to her. “It’s a health hazard.”
As she put her foot on the first step, she felt the fire escape give the tiniest bit of movement.
“Fuck,” Sarah whispered.
She could feel the panic rising in her, and she couldn’t hold back any longer. She had to go. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t safe. She’d rather fall down the fire escape than be stuck up here. The stairs vibrated with each step, but it seemed sturdy enough for her as long as she didn’t take a heavy step. By the time she got down four floors she realized what Ryan was talking about. There weren’t any more flights of stairs; just a final landing and then a forty-foot drop to the alley below.
“Let us try to recognize the precious nature of each day,” Sarah said to herself. “Stop, Sarah, just stop. It’s going to be okay. This is not a big deal. You’re safe now, keep it together. Let us try to recognize the precious nature of each day. Let us try to recognize the precious nature of each day. Let us try to recognize the precious nature of each day.”
Sarah closed her eyes and held her breath. She realized she was about to hyperventilate, and that was the last thing she wanted to do right now.
“Hey!” the carjacker bellowed from above. “You find a way out?”
Sarah let out a mouthful of air and tried to compose herself. She could feel her nose going numb. There was too much oxygen in her system.
“No! Just stay there!” Sarah called up. “It’s not safe!”
Sarah held her breath again. She was trying to even out the oxygen with carbon dioxide, and it felt like it was working, even though her lungs felt like they were about to burst. She took another small breath, but that’s all her stomach needed to assert itself, and she found herself immediately throwing up over the railing to the alley below.
“What’s going on down there?” the carjacker called. “You okay?”
Sarah closed her eyes and breathed slowly. She instantly felt better but again, her stomach had other ideas, and she found herself throwing up bile into the alley.
“Hey!” the carjacker yelled again.
“Leave her alone,” Lynne said quietly.
Even though it was quiet, Lynne’s voice carried in the alley down to Sarah.
“Just give me a minute!” Sarah yelled, still doubled over the railing.
Sarah wiped the bile from her mouth and took a couple deep breaths. Her endorphins had kicked in and she felt amazing, like she had just jumped out of bed after the most restful sleep ever. Now that she knew she wasn’t in danger of freaking out in front of strangers, which was far scarier than any zombie, the panic in her subsided. She was able to get her bearings and look around at the situation, and it wasn’t good. The windows that had been adjacent to the
fire escape had been bricked in, and the drop, though only forty-feet, looked like it was possible but you would most likely break an ankle or a leg if you tried it. There was nothing to climb down with either. It was all painted brick wall with no hand holds or outcrops.
“I told you, you weren’t going to like it,” Ryan said as Sarah reached the rooftop.
“Well, I had to see for myself,” Sarah said with a roll of her eyes. “You aren’t the most factual guy.”
“They replaced the fire escape with an emergency exit inside the building years ago,” Ryan said as he started unscrewing the top of the bullet pendant around his neck. “They’ve been meaning to tear this old fucking thing down but they only got as far as half way.”
“Well, how do we get to the one inside the building then?” Sarah asked, hope entering her voice. “Cause I’d rather run there than be stuck up here.”
“It’s on the other side of the building,” Ryan said, anger rising in him. “It’s probably crawling with those fucking things, anyway. Sixth floor is for agents only, but there was a bunch of the social team there when the elevators opened and the only way they could have gotten there is via the emergency exit. I knew those little bitches were stealing our soda!”
“Those people are dead now, you know that right?” Sarah said solemnly.
“Who gives a fuck?” Ryan spat. “Those assholes were going to eat us. Better them than us, huh?”
“Yeah, whatever,” Sarah said walking away from him.
“I never asked you guys to follow me, remember that,” Ryan said, tapping some cocaine on the back of his hand.
Ryan took a couple big snorts from the back of his hand, and everyone pretended like they hadn’t seen him do it except for the carjacker who nodded his head slowly and made sure Ryan could feel his eyes on him.
“You want some, man?” Ryan said, offering the bullet to the carjacker.
The carjacker turned and walked away, mission completed.
