Books of the Dead | Book 9 | Dead of Winter

by Spears, R. J.

  She stepped in beside me, walking briskly, and asked, “You really believe that mumbo-jumbo about Brother Ed’s death releasing Soto from some sort of curse or some other voodoo shit?”

  I glanced her way and answered, “Brother Ed is gone, and Soto is, too. So, yes.”

  “I’m not sure what to believe,” she said. “I guess it doesn’t matter. We’re either on our way to Cincy, or else we’re turning around.”

  “We’re on our way to Cincinnati,” I said and pushed through the doors.

  Chapter 36

  Into the Tunnels

  Richard took the lead once we got to the first floor, and we descended into the tunnels. That was one of two things he wasn’t happy about. With Brother Ed gone, someone had to carry the car battery, and Alex assigned the task to Richard. He started to protest but backed down when she said it was either carry the battery or take the lead on battling any zombies we encountered. He took the battery.

  Once we got into the tunnels, it was the same shit, just a different day. The zombies down there weren’t plentiful, but that didn’t make them any less deadly. One mistake, and we would be boxed in, and it would be all over but the crying.

  We had slipped past two wandering groups and were in the home stretch when we hit the final two linkages. One was a set of short interlocking corridors where we encountered two groups of zombies, all of which we dispatched with hand weapons.

  I ducked my head around the corner of a long corridor and spied down the expanse. It wasn’t a pretty picture, neither was it insurmountable. Three groups of zombies shuffled around, looking aimless, as if out on a shopping excursion, and the stores were closed. They were evenly spaced out, but getting too noisy with one group could bring the other two running. Or at least shuffling.

  I pulled back around the corner and drew our trio back about twenty feet. We huddled up, faces close to another.

  In a whisper, I said, “Three groups. Each one can’t be more than two or three in size.”

  “That means we could have to face down a dozen of those bastards,” Richard said, then added, “And we have to do it quietly, or else we wake up that nest. If it’s still there.”

  Alex said, “I’d bet on it. Where else would all these dead fuckers hang out?”

  “Well, we have to act like it’s there,” I said. “So, hand weapons unless things get hairy. No use taking any risks.”

  “Like this whole fucking thing isn’t one big risk,” Richard said. “And this damn battery is heavy.” From time to time, he had to switch hands to give the other a rest.

  “Stop bitching,” Alex said.

  “Let’s get to it,” I said to head off any possible argument.

  As I pivoted toward the intersection ahead, I felt the walkie-talkie vibrate. I grimaced and snatched it off my belt. When I held it up, I had the dilemma of whether to turn it off or answer. It buzzed again, and I motioned for the others to follow me down to the next turn in the tunnel.

  “This has to be an emergency,” I whispered. “I told Lori not to call once we got below ground.”

  I brought the walkie-talkie close to my face, nearly pressing it into my flesh. I turned up the volume knob slightly. “Yes,” I said, keeping my voice as quiet as I could.

  I switched my hold on the walkie-talkie and placed it next to my ear. Uneven static hummed from the speaker for several seconds, and then there were the slightest bursts of sound. It was like a bubbling noise, but it had a pattern to it.

  I swiveled my body, and it turned into words. The quality of the sound was as if it were coming a thousand miles away from underwater, but I understood them, and they chilled me to my bones.

  “I can’t find Naveen,” Lori’s warbly voice said.

  I pushed the microphone to my mouth and said, “What?”

  I hated myself for my question because it was just plain stupid, and every word I spoke drove up our risk of drawing the zombies to us.

  Broken static came from the speaker. It could have been Lori talking, but I wasn’t sure. That forced me to shuffle a few more feet down the corridor. Alex and Richard followed.

  Her voice broke through the static, “She’s gone. Nathan doesn’t know where she is. I think she heard us talking about Brother Ed.”

  “Oh, no,” I said. “Can you and Doctor M look for her?”

  The signal cleared up, and she said, “He’s not leaving the floor. You know that. I guess I can go.”

  “Please,” I said. “But be careful.”

  Just as she said, “I will,” I felt someone tap my shoulder.

  When I turned around, Alex said, “We’ve got company.” Over her shoulder, I spotted the unmistakable, dark shambling forms of the undead heading our way. Their numbers were hard to quantify, but it was at least a half dozen.

  I spoke into the microphone, “Gotta go.” I shut off the walkie-talkie, stowed it away, and reached back for my baseball bat. As always, it felt light and comforting in my hands.

  “We’re going to need to shoot our way out of this,” Richard said, as he sat down the battery and brought up his rifle.

  “No,” I hissed out in a loud whisper. “You start shooting, and every zombie in the area will swarm in here.”

  “But--”

  “Put that shit back,” Alex said. “Get your metal pipe ready. Do it.”

  Richard hesitated but lowered his rifle and retrieved his long piece of metal pipe.

  “If it makes you more comfortable, Alex and I will take the lead,” I said.

  Alex looked at me and asked, “We will?”

  “Yeah,” I said, but I wasn’t as confident as I sounded. There were zombies headed our way, and we were taking them on hand-to-hand in a confined space. What could go wrong?

  “Space out,” I said. “We have to be careful not to hit each other.”

  “Gotcha,” Alex said.

  “I’ll take the first one,” I said as I stepped out in front of her, bracing for the first zombie.

  That first one was a big one. In the dim light in the tunnel, it looked as wide as a truck. Great.

  It lumbered right at me, emitting a low, expectant moan. Almost eager. Even more greatness.

  As I watched it closing the gap, I decided to go with an uppercut. It would require exact timing, but I did have lots of practice. My swing would have to cut between its grasping arms.

  It was down to five feet when I lowered my bat almost as low as a golfer would hold a club. Alex let out a gasp, and I started up with my swing.

  As it turned out, I still had the magic. The creature had its hands closing on my face, but my bat cut between those greedy hands and blasted into its chin. Its head snapped back as its jaw shattered into a thousand pieces.

  One down, five to go. At least for now.

  I must have inspired Alex. As she surged past me with her crowbar in hand, she said, “Bitchin’.”

  She went with an overhand approach and planted her crowbar into the top of the skull of a nurse-zombie. It went face down onto the floor.

  Between us, we fell into a good rhythm. I would move forward and take down a zombie with my bat. She would slide by me and go to work with her crowbar.

  Two more went down, and we were superheroes. I was ready for Samual L. Jackson to show up to recruit me for the Avengers.

  And that’s where overconfidence can get you.

  The next zombie wore hospital greens and was missing part of his arm. That didn’t make him any less dangerous. I decided to go with a battering ram approach and slammed the head end of my bat right into the zombie’s face. I felt the zombie’s bones crunch on impact as the thing’s skull exploded inward. It was both sickening and exhilarating.

  In the past, I had experienced a blood lust while killing zombies. I felt that feeling starting to swell within me and knew it could be dangerous, so I did my best to quell it. Better to stay somewhat in control.

  Alex waltzed by me with her arm raised. She let out a war-whoop and jabbed the sharp end of the crowbar
toward the zombie in a vicious stabbing gesture.

  It would have been perfect, but the zombie wobbled to the right, and her crowbar stabbed deep into the zombie’s neck and actually stuck out the back of it. In an instinctive reaction, it jerked away from the blow. With the crowbar fully embedded in its neck, the motion yanked it from her hands as the zombie stumbled backward.

  She said, “Shit.”

  The zombie took two stumbling steps backward, but as was with zombies, it wasn’t really phased. It came right back at Alex, and I saw Alex reach for her sidearm.

  I said, “No. Wait.”One shot could undoubtedly bring more of them. Possibly lots more.

  I shot by Alex and did my best John Claude VanDamme, whipped out a foot, and planted it right in the zombie’s kisser. I felt the impact reverberate up my leg, but it was a stunning blow, knocking the dead thing back. The problem is that it left me terribly off-balance, and I fell forward onto one knee. This left me wide open for the zombie’s next attack since I hadn’t taken it out.

  A dark form whooshed past me, and the next thing I saw was Richard swinging for the fences with his metal pipe. He got luckier than either Alex or me, and his pipe obliterated the thing’s face.

  The creature slammed onto its back, and it was done for. Richard gave it another whack for good measure, then stood over it, breathing so hard, he sounded like a dog panting.

  “You okay?” Alex asked Richard.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I couldn’t let you two have all the fun.”

  “Get your crowbar,” I told Alex.

  She looked down at the crowbar sticking out of the zombie’s neck and asked, “Do I have to?”

  “Yeeesss,” I said, trying not to sound too exasperated and not pulling it off.

  She stepped over to the zombie, reached down, and grabbed the crowbar, then gave it a yank. The zombie came up with the motion, and she said, “Oh no, you don’t.”

  She stuck a foot on its neck, and the crowbar slid out with a sickening sucking noise.

  “That is so fucking gross,” she said and wiped the black ooze dripping off it onto the zombie’s clothes.

  “We’ve got more on their way,” I said, looking down the tunnel and seeing a trio of zombies coming our way.

  Chapter 37

  Passing the Nest

  “Let’s pull this group back,” I said.

  “Why?” Alex asked, sounding a little annoyed

  “Because the door with the nest is just around the corner and down the long corridor,” I said. “I don't want to alert them to us if we don’t have to. That is, if they are still there.”

  Alex’s mouth for the letter O as she picked up on what I was saying.

  Richard slid in next to me and asked, “From your experience with these...nests, do they tend to stay put in one place?”

  “I’ve only run into a few of them, but yes, they tend to remain in place until something rouses them.”

  “Like what?” Richard said.

  “A loud noise. A gunshot,” I said.

  “Well, let’s avoid both of those,” Alex said.

  “Agreed,” I said.

  By the time we finished the conversation, the three zombies had cut the distance between us and them by half. I put out an arm and waved Alex and Richard back, so that’s what we did.

  “Make sure none of them run up our ass from behind, Richard,” Alex said as we backed up.

  “Oh, right,” Richard said, and I found his response a bit disconcerting, but I was focused on the zombies headed our way.

  We hit a corner and backed around it, where I threw my back against the inside wall and readied my baseball bat. Without talking, Alex lowered to one knee on the other side of the corridor, ready with her crowbar. We were getting better at this with every time out. I figured with a little more practice, we might be able to go pro.

  Too bad one mistake meant your ass was dead.

  The first zombie stepped around the corner, and I put everything into my swing. The head of my bat crashed right into the bridge of the dead thing’s nose, blasting into its skull. It flipped onto its back and didn’t move again.

  Alex was in motion as soon as it hit the floor and whipped her crowbar forward one-handed. It flew straight and true, cracking the zombie’s skull open like it was an egg.

  Richard must have wanted to be a part of our reindeer games, so he stepped in between Alex and me with his metal pipe raised above his head like a sword. As the next zombie stepped around the corner, Richard sliced his pipe down, making a huge crease in the creature’s skull.

  Three up, three down.

  “Let’s move, guys,” I said, and we started forward, but I stopped. I turned back to Richard and said, “Don’t forget the battery.”

  He had left it back in the previous corridor.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said and retreated to get the battery.

  Once he returned, we made our way toward the long corridor that would get us to the stairwell that would lead up to the first floor. Outside, the bulldozer waited like the bones of a long dead prehistoric creature. I only hoped we could revive it.

  We pulled up just as we reached the corner before our final approach. When I poked my head around the corner, I saw a lot of nothing. The corridor looked devoid of zombies. Of course, the way we were using our flashlight, with our hands covering most of the beam, there were some limitations.

  I turned back to Alex and Richard and gave them a report.

  “You sure?” Richard asked.

  “Yep,” I said. “No deaders.”

  “Was the first door open or closed?” Alex asked. She was referring to the door that led to the nest we had seen before.

  I made a face then said, “I didn’t focus on that, but yes, I think it was closed.”

  “Good,” she said.

  Time to make our move. As before, Alex and I took the lead, moving side-by-side. Richard was our caboose, complete with the car battery. The only difference was that instead of our hand weapons, Alex and I had our rifles, just in case things went really bad. Richard held the battery in one hand and his pistol in the other. We had decided that if we disturbed the nest and the zombies came out, hand weapons wouldn’t cut it. They would swarm over us, and that would be it.

  So, tip-toe we did as we approached the first door. I think the three of us were taking shallow breaths as we traversed the corridor. The first door was coming up quickly on our left, despite our turtle-like pace.

  I had the left side of the corridor, so that the first door would be mine to open, if we opened it at all.

  Curiosity got the best of me, and I slowed as the door came up closer.

  “What are you doing?” Alex asked in a low whisper.

  I came to a stop, and they did, too.

  “I want to know if they’re in there,” I said, matching Alex’s low volume.

  “Why?” She asked.

  I leaned in close to her face and said, “Because I think it’s a good idea to know. If something would go south, I want to know what we’re up against.”

  She let out a breath and said, “Good enough.”

  She jerked her head to tell Richard to huddle up with the two of us. Once we were just inches away from each other, she said, “If they start streaming out of the room, we shoot, okay?”

  Richard and I nodded in unison.

  “Richard, what’s down the corridor past the second door?”

  “Why do you want to know?” Richard asked.

  “Because we don’t know what’s in either of those next two doors, really,” she said. “Both of them could be chock full of undead nuts. If we have to run down this tunnel to get away, I want to know where we are running.”

  Richard bit his lip and said, “This is the end of the line for me. I never went any further. The other research building is down there, plus a maintenance building. It ultimately could end up at the west parking garage. I’m not sure.”

  “I’m cracking that first door open,” I said.

 
; “It’s probably just all those deaders,” Alex said.

  “We’ll never know unless we check,” I replied.

  “Why do we have to know?” Richard asked, almost whining. He was beginning to waffle.

  It was a good question, but I had an answer. “Just like we should know what’s to our west, we need to know if those deaders are in there in case something goes wrong up-top. If the bulldozer blows up or we run into a horde. If something makes a big noise and they come flooding out of the room, I want to know to turn left, instead of right.”

  They must have bought my argument because they both nodded in agreement, but I could see the fear in their eyes.

  I edged toward the door, leaving Alex and Richard standing in waiting. Once I got to the door, I turned the beam of my flashlight toward the floor while still covering the lens. A dim, diffuse light leaked between my fingers.

  I used my free hand to grasp the door handle, but I just held it there. Like everything around us, the metal handle was frigid to the touch. Doubts began to flow through my mind, and they told me to let sleeping dogs lie. Or zombies, as it were.

  But as with cats, curiosity won, so I turned the handle. There was a slight click, and I cracked the door open just wide enough to give me a good enough view into the room.

  As it turned out, I had overdone it by covering my flashlight beam. It was as dark as hell in there. So, I spread my fingers a little and raised my flashlight. The shaft of light walked across the floor and, in seconds, splashed upon dozens and dozens of legs. That’s where I paused my movement and let my eyes adjust to the dim light.

  Sure enough, the room was full of the dead. Only this time, there looked to be more than last time. In the darkness, there was no way to get a good count, but I would have to say they had nearly doubled in size.

  Standing completely still, I heard a low, dissonant moan coming from the nest. There was nothing melodic about it.

  I discovered what I just had to know. So, I dropped my flashlight beam and carefully closed the door. When it settled into place, the lock made a click that, to me, sounded like someone wrapping a hammer on the door, but in reality, was barely audible.