Marcus kicked away from it, knowing that breaching the water was more important than fighting the ghoul down here. He hoped that Jax had been able to take a deep breath, but he didn’t want to keep him under the water too long.
He swam as hard as he could, feeling the weight of the comforter-wrapped man on his back. This is going to be heavy as hell when I get out, he thought bitterly. His momentum slowed significantly, and his lungs burned when he realized the corpse had grabbed a hold of his leg. Can we catch a fucking break?!
He kicked back as hard as he could, and then finally breached the water. Jax didn’t make any noise behind him, and his heart raced as he struggled to swim for the side of the pool. Skylar was a few feet away, battling a duo of zombies with all she was worth, blood flying everywhere as she slashed with the knife, removing limbs that dropped to the patio with wet smacks.
Marcus’ fingers brushed the edge of the pool, but he didn’t quite get a grip. Dammit, dammit, I’m so damn HEAVY… he thought frantically, splashing wildly. He kicked again with his free leg at the zombie’s arm holding him back, but he couldn’t get enough momentum with the resistance of the water.
He finally grasped the edge of the pool with his fingertips, and pulled as hard as he could, hoping to hell that he could keep a grip on the rough cement. There was a mighty splash, and he saw Skylar tearing over to him, having shoved a zombie into the shallow end.
She skidded to a stop, nearly falling over when she reached Marcus, dropping her knife and grabbing his arm with both hands.
“Is Jax okay?!” he demanded as she pulled him up.
She grunted as she heaved him out onto the cement, grabbing his shoulders to help them out. “I don’t know,” she huffed, “his eyes are closed.”
Fuck fuck fuck, he thought frantically as he struggled to get out of the water. “Thing’s got my leg,” he gasped.
Skylar leaned down after he was halfway out, and pried the corpse’s fingers from her lover’s ankle. Marcus kicked free, scrambling out of the pool, dripping on his hands and knees, Jax completely limp dead weight on his back.
“Can you give him mouth-to-mouth?” he asked breathlessly. “In this position?”
Skylar swallowed hard, and he could see the cogs turning in her head, wondering the same things he was. If Jax was dead, should they just cut him loose? Could they revive him? Would they have to cut him out of the backpack to revive him? Or more importantly…
“No time,” she snapped, and wrapped her hands around his bicep to help him to his feet.
Marcus glanced in the direction she was looking, seeing a quartet of zombies approaching along the side of the pool.
He took a deep breath, putting a foot underneath him and pushing up to a standing. The sopping comforter plus Jax’ slack form made this difficult, but he made it. Once he was wavering on his feet, Skylar pulled on his arm towards the staircase.
“We can’t leave any walking around,” he argued.
She shook her head. “We need to get Jax to the upper level,” she insisted. “If they’re bottlenecked on the staircase, I can just keep kicking them down and stabbing them.”
Marcus’ heart leapt into his throat. “That’s a dangerous plan,” he said.
“It’s our only option,” she snapped, and practically dragged him along with them. “Come on.”
They tore for the stairs. A duo of zombies stood at the bottom of it. But she let go of Marcus and didn’t break stride, lowering her shoulder and smacking right into one of them. The ghoul flailed its arms as it went sailing over the edge of the eighteen-story building.
Marcus braced himself as the other zombie staggered towards him, realizing that he’d left his knives in the pool. With the limp fingers hanging down his chest, he was sure the meat tenderizer and revolver were down there as well.
Skylar whirled around, a blood-spattered angel of death, and drove her blade into the ghoul’s temple before it could reach him. “Come on!” she yelled and waved for him to move up the stairs.
Marcus grabbed the railings, using his arms to pull himself up as much as his legs. Adrenaline coursed through him, the only thing propelling him through the utter exhaustion weighing him down.
He glanced over his shoulder halfway up, looking down at Skylar as she grabbed both railings, swinging her legs out to boot a pursuing ghoul in the chest. There were only five left, and they fell over each other like bowling pins as she kicked it down the stairs.
“Go!” she yelled, looking back at him.
Marcus didn’t want to leave her, but he knew he needed to take care of Jax. The longer they waited, the less effective CPR would be to try to revive him. He hoped the guy had just passed out from shock or something, and that he hadn’t inhaled a bunch of water.
He reached the top of the stairs, and his blood ran cold. Eight zombies turned to face him, mouths open, arms outstretched.
“Fuck me,” he breathed, his heart sinking. He had no weapons. There was a possibly dead man strapped to his back, soaking wet. The love of his life was fighting undead monsters downstairs.
Marcus took a second to be overwhelmed by his thoughts, and then frantically began working at the knots in the fabric. In any case, he didn’t need to have Jax strapped to him anymore. He’d set him down and try to hold the zombies at bay until Skylar could get up there with her knife.
Of course, the fabric had been pulled tight, and now it was wet, and his fingers were wet, and the creatures grew closer and closer. He let out a frustrated scream as he fumbled with the knots, and hopelessness began to creep in.
Skylar burst up the stairs, eyes wild and hair askew, knife crimson, as well as most of the rest of her. Marcus stared at her, mind reeling. He needed her to cut Jax loose. But there was no time. And he knew, deep in the pit of his stomach, that she was going to run for those zombies. The sadness in her eyes told him that she was sorry.
Don’t do it, he thought, and he wanted to say it out loud, but he knew that if the roles were reversed, he would fight the zombies too. He would try to buy her as much time as he could.
She moved then, to take off at a sprint, and then froze at a most unreal sound.
Helicopter blades. And then the whirrrr of a mini-gun.
Marcus ran for Skylar then, his legs suddenly made of rocket fuel, and crashed into her, knocking the two of them off to the side as the chopper peppered the zombies with bullets. He didn’t know if they would have been in the line of fire or not, but he’d reacted instinctually.
She yelled something, but he couldn’t hear it over the roar of the gun. When it finally stopped, the chopper lowered down onto the roof, and the two of them sat up, Marcus struggling with Jax still sopping wet and draped over him.
They stared at the vehicle in shock, both blinking as if in disbelief that they’d been saved, really and truly.
A few soldiers jumped down, waving maniacally to them.
Skylar leapt to action first, pulling on Marcus’ arm to help him to his feet. The adrenaline seemed to leach out of him then, sapped by their impending rescue, his body suddenly realizing that it didn’t need to push anymore, didn’t need to desperately try to survive.
One of the soldiers furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong with buddy?” he asked, motioning to Jax.
“They fell in the pool,” Skylar explained, and turned, sliding her knife under one of the fabric straps around Marcus’ shoulder. She grunted as the knife failed to easily cut through the thick curtain fabric, and another soldier came forward with his own knife to help.
Marcus staggered forward as Jax fell free, his body feeling like jelly as the weight left him. Skylar caught him, clutching his shoulders like she never wanted to let go, but he patted her arm gently.
“I’m okay,” he huffed, “help Jax.”
She nodded and moved over to the still man’s side.
“Is he bit?” one of the soldiers asked. “Why was he strapped to you?”
“He uses a wheelchair,” Skylar replied, “and we didn
’t know how else to get him all the way up the stairs. He’s not bit.”
Marcus turned around, watching as the soldier put his fingers to Jax’s throat.
Please be alive, please… he thought, a mantra in his head to whatever deity could have possibly let the apocalypse happen to the world.
The soldier began doing chest compressions, and Skylar swallowed hard, beginning to work at the duct tape with her knife to at least free him from the thick wet comforter.
IS HE ALIVE?! Marcus wanted to yell.
Skylar managed to rip all the duct tape open, releasing the wet comforter so the soldier could get a better compression. They waited with bated breath for something, anything.
Marcus clenched his jaw. They came all this way, carried him all this way. He saved him from blowing his brains out downstairs, just to die here, beneath their rescue helicopter.
Jax coughed and sputtered, his body spasming.
“Oh, thank fuck,” Skylar gushed, leaning over him to slick his hair back from his forehead. “Jax?”
“Okay, get him into the chopper,” one of the soldiers said, waving at them maniacally. “We don’t have much time.” He knelt and wrapped a hand around Marcus’ bicep, helping him up into the vehicle.
Skylar and the soldier who’d saved Jax lifted him, carrying him to the door where two more soldiers helped pull him aboard. As soon as she clambered up, Skylar curled up against Marcus, sliding her arms around his neck and pulling him against her chest.
“We made it,” she said, her lips a hair’s breadth from his ear.
All he could do was nod against her, pressing his forehead into her throat, relishing in the feel of her pulse. She was alive. They were alive. They’d made it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The helicopter flew to the north, landing near the interstate, well back from the front line of the barricade. As soon as it touched down, soldiers appeared from all directions to help the civilians down to the ground.
Jax couldn’t believe he was alive. As two soldiers gently lifted him down and set him into a rolling office chair somebody had provided, he looked around at the world, taking in a painful, ragged breath. He didn’t know what had happened when he hit the water, whether the shock had knocked him out or what, but he was damned grateful that Marcus hadn’t just left him in that pool.
Or let him shoot himself. Or any of the other ways he could have been abandoned to die that day.
“Thank you,” he said hoarsely, and the soldier smiled at him, patting his shoulder before climbing back up into the chopper.
As it lifted off, the telltale whistle of missiles cut through the air, and the trio of survivors stared as their home was effectively flattened.
“It would have been quick, at least,” Marcus said darkly.
Jax couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t know what else to do. Before long, his wheezing giggles caught fire, and the couple standing behind him joined in, the three of them busting a gut and causing more than a few soldiers to eye them, concerned.
“I can’t believe we made it through that,” Skylar finally gasped, holding her stomach. “I just can’t believe it.”
Marcus shook his head. “I can,” he declared, kissing her temple. “Because we had you.”
“I am so getting laid tonight,” she joked.
He wavered on his feet. “Maybe after I sleep for a good seven days straight, love.”
“Here,” a soldier said, shoving another rolling chair behind Marcus. “You look like you’re about to topple over. Let’s have a look at you.”
“Are you the medic?” he asked, and motioned to Jax. “I think you should check out our buddy here first, he almost drowned.”
The soldier turned to Jax and knelt down, setting down a metal box. “Sorry we didn’t have a wheelchair for you,” he said, shaking his head. “The guys radioed us to see if we could find one, but all we had were a few office chairs. We’ll try to find something as fast as possible for you.”
“Man, honestly, I don’t care if I have to ride a rocking horse,” Jax replied, eyes wide. “I’m just happy to be alive right now.”
The medic chuckled. “Fair enough.”
“Jax!” Lennox bellowed, rushing over. “Man!” He leaned down to give his friend a tight hug.
Jax laughed, patting him on the back. “Good to see you, face to face,” he said as Lennox stood back up. “Sorry, I’m still damp.”
“You smell like rotten chlorine,” Lennox said brightly. “Do a triathlon to get to the roof?”
“Pretty much,” Jax replied, swallowing hard and wincing at the burn in his throat.
Lennox held out a bottle of water. “Here, shit, sorry,” he gushed, unscrewing the cap. He turned to Skylar and Marcus, pulling out another bottle from the side pocket of his pants. “It’s warm, but does the trick.”
“Thanks,” Skylar said, accepting the bottle and opening it. She held it down to her boyfriend first, but he waved at her to go. She rolled her eyes. “Oh no, no, after you,” she teased, and took a swig before forcing it into his hands.
“Skylar and Marcus, right?” Lennox prompted, cocking his head at them.
She offered a smile. “Yes, and you must be Lennox,” she replied. “It’s nice to properly thank you, in the flesh, for saving our lives.”
“Well, it was Jax that gave me the push to get out here and do it,” he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. “And if it weren’t for him I wouldn’t have made it this far into the apocalypse, so I s’pose everything just comes full circle, huh?”
Marcus raised his bottle. “Damn right it does,” he declared.
Skylar let out a deep whoosh of breath. “You know, I loved that condo,” she admitted, “but I am so glad to be on the ground.”
“Agreed,” Jax added, taking another sip of water as the medic patted his knee.
The soldier moved over to Marcus. “Looks like you all escaped with a few bumps and bruises,” he declared as he checked them over. “Nothing a little rest won’t fix.”
“Rest sounds good,” Skylar replied, giving her boyfriend’s shoulder a squeeze.
The medic stood up and gave them a nod. “You deserve it,” he replied. “Thank you, the four of you, for getting us the intel on the convention center. You saved a lot of lives today.”
The quartet murmured responses, and Jax scratched the back of his head. There was a lot of thanks going around, and a lot to be grateful for.
“There will be a transport here for you soon,” the soldier told them, and picked up his kit. “Take it easy, you four.” He turned and headed back to the front lines. “Now, we press on to downtown.”
END
Up Next: As the military closes in on downtown, a small team of soldiers undertake a daring mission to help win the war in Seattle Pt. 9
Dead America The Northwest Invasion | Book 10 | Dead America: Seattle [Part 8] Page 6
