Kira was reloading when I pushed her ahead of me into the office, slammed the door and set the lock. The room was dark, and I prayed we alone. Kira turned her flashlight on as I grabbed mine. The office shuddered as the undead chasing us pounded on the door and the walls to reach us. I motioned to Kira and we pushed the single desk over in front of the vibrating door. The door held, but it wouldn't last long under the concerted beating it was taking. Constant noises of the undead and their attempts to reach us kept me on edge and fearful as I looked around the flimsy wood stud walls that made up our sanctuary. The walls shook and shuddered as the zombie's high and low-pitched songs grew louder.
I flipped my flashlight to a door on the other side of the small room. A sign read, Regional Headquarters Personnel Only. It was locked. I moved my light beam around the walls; no keys hung prominently in sight. Kira watched my actions and without waiting to exchange words, we pulled drawers from the desk and searched for a life saving key.
Without warning, a bony fist with hunks of putrefied flesh hanging from its finger bones punched through the drywall only inches from Kira's face. Her head jerked back as its fingers flexed spasmodically while it searched blindly for the human flesh it sensed. She jumped backward and fired two shots through the thin wallboard where the head should have been. I kept searching as another arm poked through the hard drywall sheet. The blasting of Kira's Glock stopped as she reached for a fresh magazine.
Two keys lay in a small tray at the front of the middle drawer. I fired four shots as Kira reloaded, and then I leapt to the exit door.
Valuable seconds were lost as I tried to fit the first key into the lock. I tossed it away and heard the brass thud onto the tile floor. Several more holes exploded through the drywall and the zombies ripped and tore the wallboard to shreds. I tried the second key.
Kira fired and yelled, "Hurry for God's sake, or we're dead." It fit. I glanced behind me; the wood door gave way and the desk slid toward us in jerky inches at a time.
I wrenched the door open and then grabbed Kira's belt and pulled her backward through the doorway as she continued to blast zombies. She slammed the door shut as two zombies reached toward her within spitting distance. I threw my shoulder against the door with all my strength before she turned the deadbolt. The door was steel and the wall it was set in was cinderblock. Those solid materials would buy us some time. We ran down a hallway with offices on each side as the undead monsters screeched their anger and pounded furiously on the door.
Halfway down the hall, two stainless steel elevator doors sat tight against each other on the right. Ten feet further, a sign beside a door read, “Stairs to Second Floor.”
At the end of the hall, I saw a dull red plastic EXIT light above an exit door. Offices on either side of the door had a window in the end wall. Steel security bars on the outside protected both windows. I crawled across the carpeted floor of the office on the left and stayed low to reconnoiter through the window. In the office on the right Kira scampered across the carpet like a young rug-rat. After a short time, we met back in the hallway. I whispered, "Three rotten smellies are out there." Kira nodded to my count. We gently checked the exit door; it was locked. Quietly but quickly, we made our way back to the second floor stairway.
We entered the stairwell, and I pulled the door closed. Kira set the lock on the panic bar while I listened, smelled the air for stench, and shined my light up the dark space above us. We crept up the metal stairs making minimal noise and exited into a wide hallway. It, too, was devoid of zombie stink. A musty odor hung heavily in the air from the building being locked tightly for several previous years. Down the dark, stagnant, hall we found a small lunch room with tables and chairs, a microwave, sink, and refrigerator. I opened the refrigerator door and my face scrunched as I gagged. A zombie-like odor trapped in the sealed appliance for years assailed our noses. Spoiled foods wore coats of mold in various sickening shades. In the door, three bottles of warm water and four cans of diet soda sat. I grabbed them before we explored the offices. We entered an office on the right. A desk faced us, and another door was on the left of it. I suddenly flung the solid wood door open while Kira stood three feet behind me in a shooting posture. The door bounced off the wall behind it with a mild bang. We flashed our light beams inside and then entered. The room was large, but not huge, and had been furnished tastefully in masculine tones. Kira closed the door behind us and set the brass deadbolt.
A large dark wood executive desk sat in front of a wide window. Drapes were closed but enough light filtered through for us to see the bulky shapes of other furniture. I opened the drapes two feet and light flooded the room. Dust from disturbing the musty cloth danced in the sunrays. I glanced around the room without the aid of my flashlight. A dark brown leather couch sat against the wall we'd entered.
I motioned to Kira. "Let's move the couch over in front of the credenza on the side wall. We can sit on it and face the door where uninvited guests could arrive from."
We sat, and I passed a bottle of water to Kira. I unscrewed the cap on mine, wiped the threaded mouthpiece with my shirttail, swallowed a third of the bottle, recapped it and sat it on the floor. I straightened and tensed.
"My God!" I uttered softly. "James Anderson was killed downstairs. I failed to protect him." During our gyrations to escape our pursuers and avoid other zombies, James' death had been thoughtlessly pushed from my mind. The death of such an innocent young man caused my stomach to roil.
Kira sat staring ahead, the water bottle in her hand, her Glock on the arm of the couch. "I liked James; we all did. I've notice how you suffer after each death of your people as if you were solely responsible. I suppose it's a sign of a good, companionate leader. But if you continue to get that deeply involved for each of us, the stress will eventually destroy you." She turned on the couch and brought her bent left leg up onto the cushion. "Back off and let it go. We're each responsible for our own actions, not you. James did something dumb back there and paid a terrible price for it. But it wasn't your fault or my fault, it was his decision. I have no idea why or how James dropped his pistol, but his decision to linger while retrieving it led to his death. There was nothing either of us could do to save him. If there was, we would have done anything it took."
I leaned back into the thick cushion. "I honestly wish it were that simple. I know I wasn't responsible in any way for James' action, nor could I have prevented what happened to him. However, I am responsible for the overall day-to-day safety of everyone in our group. It's up to me and the people closest to me, Shane, Ed, John and Ira, to make the right decisions for the whole group. In doing that, I've gotten to know and like each of them, including you. In that respect, I don't want to back off and distance myself from anyone. I'll be alright. So far I've been able to cope with it and keep moving ahead each morning.
"Now let’s get off the morbidity and move on. Think of how we're going to escape from here without becoming causalities ourselves."
"I'll drop it for now," Kira said, "but at some point, I want to discuss your sense of total responsibility further with you."
I quickly stood to end the conversation and walked to the window. Kira was behind me when I stopped. She moved in front of me to peer through the glass. The top of her head barely reached my chin. I inched forward and took in her earthy fragrance as I put both hands at my back and intertwined the fingers to resist a sudden urge to embrace her. After a few deep calming breaths, I tilted my head to see that the view was out the side of the building onto a paved lot trucks traversed to reach the warehouse and receiving portion of the complex behind the main store. Several zombies wandered aimlessly on the drab, gray, concrete, and two stood silent and unmoving as if in a trance or asleep.
"We should reload our empty magazines while we have a chance. Then we'll go through the lunch room and other offices to find food that might have been left behind. After the adrenalin rush, I'm hungry."
Ten minutes later, we were down the hallway cautiously and st
ealthily searching offices for food. We stopped when we felt we had enough snack food to last two days. Several packets of microwave food were passed up fearing they might be rancid and could make us sick.
In a large meeting room, we removed USA and Iowa flags from poles in a stand in a corner. A credenza on an end wall yielded a table cloth big enough to cover the twelve foot long meeting table. A full case of bottled water sat in the opposite end of the credenza, so dehydration wouldn't become a problem for several days. I certainly didn't want to stay cooped up away from home any longer than that.
Kira silently opened the second floor emergency exit door as I stood with pistol drawn. Outside, a platform with metal stairs led away from where we needed to go. The stairs would be noisy and the extra distance could get us killed. That meant we'd have to leave through the first floor exit. We'd wait until we felt it was safer before we'd make our way back down there and fight our way back to the truck.
Back in our sanctuary, we each took food and sat on the couch. We ate the several years old, stale, cardboard like, snacks in silence and were glad to have them.
Kira put her waste in an empty snack bag and leaned back. "I heard the story of how you and Emma won a lottery and had oodles of money to build the compound we live in. What's your story before that? If you don't mind talking about it."
I nodded then sat a minute thinking back. "Emma and I dated in high school. I'm thirty-three by the way. Neither of us had siblings. There were no children either. After graduation we married, and I joined the Army. My red headed buddy, Shane and I went in together and served together for six years. He and I were best friends since kindergarten. We were both recommended for Delta Force and went around the world doing bad-assed things in several countries. I was the designated sniper, and he was my spotter; although he’s as good a shot as I am. We both became disillusioned with the government and military command and accepted our discharges.
Luckily for me, Emma was still waiting when I got out. She'd finished a business degree and had a job. Plus, she worked part-time as a physical training instructor.
"After my discharge I got into carpentry. When I felt I'd acquired enough knowledge and skill, I opened my own general construction business. Emma quit her job and became my office manager. We both liked horses, and when the lottery money came through, we bought two hundred acres where the compound is located. We intended to board and train horses. Months before the zombies ate their way across Europe, the design for a horse barn changed to the present compound. Even with the zombie invasion, life with Emma was good. I still love her, and I think of her often, but she's not in my head as much as when she died. I'm finally to where I can talk about her and function full time." I paused for a drink. "Now it's your turn. What are you willing to tell me about you and Paige?"
"I'm thirty-one and my background is much the same as yours, except I had one brother. He was a Marine and died in Iraq. He didn't like what was going on there, but he felt it was our duty to clean up the mess our government made. He believed it was the result of good intentions with unintended consequences.
"Carl and I dated through high school before he joined the Navy. Within a year of enlistment, he was selected for the SEAL program. I had Paige after one of Carl's visits home. Six years later he requested a discharge and left the Navy. He'd stayed in for eight years and I missed him terribly. He came home, got a job, and we married. We were happy, he earned a good living, Paige had learned to love him, and he was a good father. But there was always an undercurrent of unrest with Carl. He wouldn't admit it, but I think he missed being the real life daring action hero. You already know the rest from the time the zombie threat materialized."
She looked the saddest I'd ever seen her. I reached toward her and placed my hand on her shoulder. "There was a small percentage of Special Forces soldiers who got hooked on the danger, as well as the power of life and death they had over other people. Most of that type ended up being mercenaries, paid guns who would kill anyone they were pointed at; like the bunch that captured you. You should be proud that Carl resisted the urge to continue and chose you and Paige over something else he was attracted to. It's a hard urge to resist. I know because I had to make that decision too. For me, Emma was worth the effort, and Carl apparently felt that way about you, too."
She smiled brightly. "Thanks for the pep talk, handsome. I don't know why I needed it today, but it helped."
As we'd talked, the light in the room had gradually dimmed. Night was approaching and the building had cooled. I turned to Kira. "Give me a hand cutting the tablecloth in two pieces while we can still see. We'll each take half of it and one of the flags to cover us while we sleep."
After the tablecloth was cut, Kira stood and peered into the gloomy room. "Where do you want to sleep?" she asked.
I pointed to the floor in front of the couch. "You take the couch. It's too short for me." I removed my utility belt and kicked off my boots. My M14 and Glock were placed on the floor next to me within easy reach and with the barrels pointed toward the door. I lay on my back with two towels from the kitchen for a pillow, closed my eyes, and listened to Kira snuggling in on the couch.
"Good night, Tom."
"Yeah. See you in the morning."
We spent the following day cooped up in our hideout. Occasionally we'd look outside and see varying numbers of zombies staggering like drunks at an Alcoholic's Unanimous Convention. Toward evening the numbers dwindled to none.
As we lay in the dark, Kira said, "Tom, you awake?"
"Yeah, I'm still awake. All we've done is sit, so I'm not tired."
"What's going to happen when there aren't enough people at the compound to keep everything going? I mean, with James' death there are what, twenty-five adults and seven kids. If more children aren't born the population is going to slowly exterminate itself with shrinking numbers."
I snickered. " Recently I talked with Ira about that. The problem should resolve itself in the next couple of years. As you likely know, we have a large stockpile of birth control pills on hand. Most of the women take them because they, and their husbands or mates, don't feel good about bringing more children into a zombie dominated world where we're outnumbered by thousands to one. But pills degrade in time like everything else. At some point the supply will be exhausted, or the pills will become ineffective. Either way there will be more pregnancies. Ira believes that when a few babies are born and life continues most of the women of child bearing age will follow their natural mothering impulses and want to bear children.
"The kicker is that without new blood our offspring will eventually become inbred. But that problem is several years out before I have to deal with it.
"I should have guessed you'd have an answer. You're always thinking ahead. I like that about you."
"Does that make up for my being an ugly, uncharismatic nerd?"
Kira laughed, a real gut buster. She leaned over and hit me on the shoulder. "No, it doesn't. You're never going to let me live that down, are you? Actually after being around you I've gained tremendous respect for you. It takes an iron will and courage to step up and do the hard tasks others instinctively avoid. Now, handsome, let's get some sleep so we can attempt to get the hell out of here in the morning. I'm missing my daughter, and she's probably thinking all sorts of bad stuff has happened to us."
I awoke early the next morning with a warm body next to me. During the night, Kira had put her covers over mine and snuggled next to me. I was still on my back, and she lay partly on me on my right side. My arm was under her and her right arm was across my chest. Her right leg across my thigh felt natural, like it belonged there. Her warmth was comforting, so I laid still enjoying the closeness and not wanting the feeling to end. A few minutes later her breathing changed, and I felt her move slightly.
"I hope you don't mind that I used you to keep me warm," she said.
"When you laid down, the movement woke me. I'm a light sleeper." She made an effort to rise and I gripped her shoulder a
nd pulled her close. "A few more minutes, okay? I like having you near. I'm attracted to you, and I hope as we get to know each other better a relationship develops between us."
She relaxed and her face nuzzled against my chest. "I'd like that. I'm beginning to like you, handsome. But right this minute, I really need to get up and use the lady’s room."
I moved my hand from her shoulder. "Me too. My bladder is stretched to the limit from all the damn water I sipped yesterday."
After ruefully enjoying a breakfast of hard, dry, snack food and water, we checked outside and didn't see any zombies. Cautiously we made our way back to the first floor. Still there was none of the dreaded smell or moaning. I unlocked the door that would plunge us from safety into the area that had been infested with the undead for the last two days. Outside we checked both directions before letting the door close with little sound. With our backs against the building's brick wall, we slowly crept to the corner. We gripped the straps on the rifles slung on our shoulders tightly as we'd agreed so they wouldn't slip and fall while we ran. I glanced around the corner and saw at least a dozen zombies, I couldn't count exactly how many, at the other end of the huge store. Several milled about slowly and most appeared to be quiet. I turned to Kira. "Let's walk toward the truck casually and hope they don't notice us until we're close to it. When they react, or if more come out the front of the store, run like hell for the driver's door. You get in first and I'll be right behind you.
My M-14 was slung on my left shoulder, the Glock in my right hand. I held the key fob in my left hand against the sling. I guessed we were a little more than two hundred feet from the truck. Even that short distance would seem like a mile if the zombies saw us and gave chase.
Outnumbered series Box Set | Vols. 1-6 Page 11
