The Undead Survivor Series (Book 2): Undead and the City

by Radke, K. E.

  “That door is the only way out,” Jule announced matter-of-factly.

  “Hungry mouths are waiting for us behind that door. How is this way any better than the first route through the loading dock?” Lincoln asked remembering all the tongues caressing the window earlier.

  “Not the one you’re looking at, the one behind us,” Jule whispered as everyone turned around with guns drawn. Behind them was a door slightly ajar that Noah and Lincoln never noticed earlier. “Dead bodies are maneuvered through the back of the hospital, so they don’t freak out the visitors. Not technically a secret, but less human traffic.”

  Noah was the first one at the hidden entryway, slowly pushing it open to reveal a pitch-black room. Nothing stirred but he jumped at the sound of fists and claws thrashing inside the metal incubators on the back wall. All the whispers and roaming had disturbed the chompers’ slumber, and now they all wanted to be released.

  Unable to find a light switch, Noah held up a flashlight to inspect the area. There was a small table with two chairs against the wall and a microwave on top. The rest of the space was used as storage for chemicals. Directly in front of him was another door that they used to deliver the dead bodies. Knuckles lightly grazed the table to bring out any squatters. Nothing popped out and Noah gave the signal it was clear.

  Everyone huddled inside the little room and shut the door.

  “I don’t think we thought this part through,” Wyatt’s voice sailed through the dark aware he was the lowest one and sharing space with someone’s butt.

  Noah stationed his flashlight upside down on the table illuminating the room enough for everyone to see the person next to them. They all stared at Jule and she pointed to the second door, “That leads to the hallway, and the stairs are around the corner, but I have no idea how many rotters are out there.”

  “You mean people ate in here, while dead bodies just rolled through?” Heath asked, but it was clear he already knew the answer to his own question.

  “Okay, I think I liked it better on the platform,” Wyatt said in an official voice.

  “I don’t want to rush anything, but your mom is getting heavy,” Heath grunted. Everyone shifted in the room so he could place Gloria’s lower body on the table and lean her against his side.

  “Stay here while I have a peek outside,” Lincoln told Jule. She rolled her eyes at the notion that she could actually escape if she wanted to.

  Right in front of the door Lincoln positioned his boot a few inches away so it couldn’t open any further from outside pressure. He turned the knob slowly and pulled until he could peek through the crack. At an angle he glimpsed a sliver of the wall on the opposite side and that was it.

  Noah sidled up beside him using the compact mirror he confiscated earlier and whispered cheerily, “Too bad you don’t have a nifty little gadget that can help spy.”

  Almost catching Lincoln’s fingers in the door, Noah quickly slammed the door shut and something beyond it immediately thumped against it.

  “How many?” Wyatt asked a little louder than normal while the barrier was being tested on the other side.

  “Enough to eat all of us,” Noah said his voice dropping. A mischievous grin spread across his face and he began, “Let’s herd them like sheep, make them go where we want them to.”

  Noah pulled off his pack and started rummaging until he pulled out the cell phones he commandeered earlier. A spool of fishing line followed, and after messing with one phone for several minutes he maneuvered himself back to the first door they entered through.

  He handed the spool to Wyatt and told him not to move while he strode back through the morgue, down the hall to the sliding doors and left the phone on the ground. Lincoln had followed him and finally understood the plan, “How do you expect it to ring?”

  “I’ve armed it,” Noah said slyly, “with an alarm.”

  Wyatt rolled into the morgue at the same time Lincoln and Noah emerged from the hall.

  “We herd them into the room we’re stuck in?” Wyatt asked hoping the problem was obvious to everyone.

  “Someone can hide behind the doors, and the rest of us—,” Noah didn’t finish the thought, instead, he stepped toward the body sized drawers on the back wall and tapped on one. The sound amplified the frenzy stuck inside the metal cubicles.

  “There’s no exit, this place could easily be over run, and we’d be stuck in here,” Lincoln said pointing out one of the deadlier flaws in the plan.

  “The other options are just as insane,” Noah replied in a steady voice. “The only difference is Jule—the only person that’s been inside—says this is the best way up to the fourth floor.”

  Objects in the storage room started falling and Heath mumbled incoherently. Wyatt wheeled backward to check on Heath and Jule and questioned, “What are you doing?”

  Jule’s scratchy voice replied, “I’m not going back in a drawer.” She had pulled herself to the lone cabinets against the wall and pulled everything out from the bottom cupboards. Hunching over, she squished her body into the tiny space and concealed herself by shutting the cabinet door. Satisfied with her hidey hole she popped out and asked, “Is this happening or what?”

  “I’m taking a spot behind a door,” Heath announced in a nonnegotiable tone. “I won’t easily fit inside a drawer and even if I get in one, it won’t be easy coming out.”

  Wyatt, Noah and Lincoln all stared at one another silently debating who should be positioned behind the second door—the easiest escape route should anything go wrong—if the cannibals don’t reach them first.

  “Stuff me in a drawer,” Wyatt relented in a tone that said they should have gotten rid of him a long time ago. “I’ll volunteer to be eaten to death.”

  Noah curled his upper lip in disgust and shuddered. “Thank you for that visual right before we might all fucking die,” Noah muttered with a sarcastic attitude. “If a drawer is good enough for Wyatt, I’ll set up next to him. It’ll be like living in New York.”

  Lincoln glanced at his unconscious mother and a defeated sigh slipped out of him, “We need to move all the furniture to the backwall, so the ghouls can easily follow the alarm. And it’ll be easier for us to get the hell out of here.”

  Jule tossed the contents of her cabinets against the far wall. Noah and Lincoln started stacking the packs near the exit, but out of the way, one on top of the other. “Grab a pack on your way out,” Lincoln directed and then stared at the last task before they invited the parasites in—the giant metal filing cabinet filled with things out of a horror movie.

  Noah took the fishing line from Wyatt and tied it to the exit door. To no one in particular he said, “Whoever is behind this door needs to pull the cell phone back. If it gets lost fine, but we might need it again, so I’d prefer to salvage it if we can. I’m going to start the timer. We have 20 minutes to get everyone situated.”

  The countdown started with Lincoln’s knife poised above the first metal slate he rolled out slowly. Fingers caught on the edge of the opening and growls echoed within. He quickly shoved the drawer closed and the rapid movement sliced through the wrinkled black fingers. On the ground they rolled in different directions and Lincoln kicked them out of the way.

  The first empty metal tube was near the floor and Lincoln’s eyes flickered over Wyatt. It was farther from the exit but easier for Wyatt to escape. He could easily crawl to safety without anyone’s help.

  “You’re up,” Lincoln called to Wyatt.

  “If anything happens—,” Wyatt began.

  Lincoln interrupted him, “I will come for you first. So be ready to move.” He helped Wyatt inside and reached down for the man’s ankle knife. “Just in case. I’m not the first one you see.” And then he closed the drawer and continued his search for the next empty hole.

  Noah found his own sliding coffin, the one closest to the exit, but it was too high for him to reach on his own. Lincoln gave him a boost up and Noah loudly hopped into the small metal space. He almost closed the
drawer until Noah stopped him.

  “I can’t be blind,” Noah admitted nervously. He stuck the compact mirror out through a sliver at the top and practiced maneuvering it to see the entire room.

  “You know, just because you can’t reach this drawer doesn’t mean the cannibals can’t,” Lincoln told him.

  “Worry about your mother so I can focus on saving your rude ass. You probably only have fifteen minutes before that alarm goes off. And I’m not getting out to reset it.”

  The next drawer he tried was occupied and fingers worn down to the bone rolled on the floor as he moved on to the next one. Huge sausage fingers poked through the opening and Lincoln quickly shut the drawer, but it bounced off the giant, swollen digits.

  The sliding bed jerked to a stop only allowing the chomper’s head and torso a glorious new view of the ceiling. Instantly it tried to haul itself out of the hole. The malnourished, sunken head lost its patience with hunger and sought out its next meal by shifting its torso toward Lincoln.

  Bloated, dark fingers reached for Lincoln as he stood several feet back with a knife in one hand and a gun in the other ready to kill it. Its hands pushed at the metal cabinets to release him and reached for Lincoln struggling to get out of the drawer.

  Tired of waiting for the attack, Lincoln cautiously stepped forward and tried to figure out how the ghoul got stuck.

  Its giant gut was blocking the drawer from opening any further.

  Lincoln chuckled and put his gun away while listening to a strange ripping noise between the chomper’s croaks. He cocked his head and turned in a slow circle trying to pinpoint it.

  “Heath, everything alright in there?” Lincoln called to him in the next room.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he answered, and his massive frame filled the doorway with an unconscious Gloria in his arms. As soon as he appeared a loud, wet, plop echoed through the silent room causing Heath to stumble backwards until he hit the wall behind him. Obscenities filled the deafening silence while rotten, tarred organs fell from the drawer.

  The upper half of the torso manically tore itself from its lower body and flopped to the ground landing face first. Slowly rising with its arms, a flat face pinned Lincoln with its stare before racing toward him on its arms. Black intestines swung from above rolling out of the body with an oozing, thick, lumpy porridge of blood and pus.

  Lincoln pulled the Glock 17 from his holster but ran to his right around a steel table before it caught his leg. Instead of following him around the table the torso hobbled under it and grabbed Lincoln’s pants. It yanked on the cloth, stuffing it in its mouth. His other leg automatically kicked it as hard as he could.

  Organs and onyx sludge tumbled out of the flying torso splattering everything in the vicinity until it hit the wall cracking whatever bones it had left. Lincoln shot the head twice before leaning on one of the metal tables to calm the pounding in his chest.

  Laughter echoed in the room and Lincoln’s head shot up to find Noah peering out from his hidey hole. “I know it shouldn’t be funny but your face—,” Noah burst out laughing again. “It was priceless when it grabbed you under the table.”

  Ignoring Noah, he trekked around the pile of organs and bodily sludge dripping on the floor in order to shut the drawer. Just in case the lower half had a mind of its own and decided to come after him next.

  After three occupied coffins, Lincoln finally found one for his mother and Heath set her inside. Their eyes locked on each other and Lincoln’s expression was eerily calm, but his tone was dead serious with a tinge of insanity to it, “Your first priority is my mother, or one of us is dying today. Do you understand me?”

  Heath nodded and started to mentally prepare himself to run just in case he didn’t get to Lincoln’s mother in time. The last thing he wanted to do was fail to save her life after she’d saved him, but he wasn’t willing to die for her.

  “We should mark them, so we know exactly which ones to pull open,” Heath advised already worried about opening the wrong metal coffin.

  From above Noah tossed a lipstick to Heath. He winked at Lincoln, “Told you it’d come in handy.”

  They marked all three cubbies and checked on Jule before they stood in front of the door exiting to the hallway. It opened against the shelves along the wall, forming a triangular space between the wall, shelf and door. The door to the morgue could easily be pulled against the wall, but with a person behind it, it was an easy space to infiltrate for hungry mouths.

  “Should we flip a coin?” Heath questioned not excited for either option.

  “I’ll take this one,” Lincoln said and claimed the morgue door. “If I get stuck, get Wyatt,” he murmured for only Heath to hear. “I’ll worry about my mom.” He took his place behind the door at the same time the alarm rang down the hallway. Clinging to the door, he positioned himself comfortably with the Glock aimed toward the giant gap. If the place filled quickly, he’d be the first to know.

  “It’s time boys!” Noah yelled in his drawer pounding on it three times.

  Heath’s heart felt like a never-ending machine gun when he placed his back against the wall. Inhaling once, his hand turned the doorknob and pulled the door all the way back to trap himself inside the triangular barrier.

  Behind it, he covered his mouth to keep his heavy breaths quiet.

  FIFTEEN

  B lind to the stampede rushing toward the alarm down the hall, Heath stood immobile listening to the hissing croaks and growls that filled the room. To distract himself he reverted to a trick he learned as a child and counted the seconds between the thumps on the door. Only he wasn’t hiding under the covers from the monsters below his bed. And this time the monsters were real.

  Sweat trickled down his temple, and he let it drip refusing to remove his hand from his mouth to wipe it. The inhuman growls were deafening, and he didn’t know how he’d willingly be able to save anyone.

  Lincoln’s grip on the door was tight and he focused on one slow breath after another. Through the gap he watched the mindless predators descend the hall searching for the loud meal ticket calling to them.

  Clothes hung off their weakened, skeleton bodies from being stuck inside without a meal. Few were stained with blood and most of them still had their shoes on. If it weren’t for the horrific noise, Lincoln might have thought they were harmless from afar. Just another group of people searching for a safe place to hide.

  Lincoln steadily watched the foot traffic and noticed one ghoul disappeared down the hallway only to reappear thirty seconds later. It was the first and only indicator that it was time to leave his hiding spot. He inhaled the safe air one last time before shooting the reappearing ghoul in the head.

  Another cannibal entered through his door at the same time he emerged from behind it. Its jaws snapped, and he bashed it in the head and knocked it off balance long enough for him to pull the trigger.

  Wheels rolled, and Lincoln heard the silent shot before a body collapsed on the ground behind him. He glanced up at Noah holding the 1911, trying to find a way down without causing too much noise. Lincoln gestured for him to stop moving. With his hands he told Noah to watch the opening to the hallway and shoot anything in sight.

  In ten quick steps Lincoln whispered Heath’s name and pulled on the door hiding his massive body. To cut off any deadly surprises, they shut the door to their exit in order to rescue the rest of the group.

  Lincoln tiptoed to Wyatt’s metal cell and slowly opened it with his finger over his lips. Wyatt glanced up at him sweating profusely and quickly sat up dinging the metal. He started crawling across the floor as Noah shot another straggler that didn’t follow the noisy phone down the hall.

  Heath had barely reached Gloria’s drawer when she started screaming. Noah and Lincoln’s neck snapped in her direction.

  “Fuck,” Noah whispered watching the elongated shadows multiply in the hall. A crowd of corpses were following the new noise and Noah jumped out his drawer shouting, “Heath, help me move these fu
cking tables!”

  Heath stood there with wide eyes and took a step back. Before he moved another inch, Lincoln aimed at Heath’s head and promised calmly, “Go help him with the tables, or you will die right now.”

  Precious seconds passed as Lincoln and Heath eyed each other. Heath’s gaze was wary, debating if Lincoln would actually pull the trigger or if he should call his bluff and take his chances on his own.

  Lincoln leered at him with nothing to lose and waited for the man to make the wrong move. Because he knew if Heath bailed, the likely hood of everyone surviving lowered dramatically. He did not want to kill another man in cold blood, but as much as he hated to admit it, he needed Heath’s help. Lincoln’s aim did not waver, if Heath decided to abandon them for his own survival, he would be the first to die—just not by a ghoul’s hand.

  Heath took a step toward one of the tables and pushed the one closest to him toward the corridor filled with living skeletons.

  Yanking the drawer open, Lincoln stared down at Gloria’s squinty eyes trying to adjust to the glaring light. He took the opportunity of her dazed and confused state to pull her out and carry her into the storage room.

  A tangle of questions left her mouth. Lincoln didn’t bother to answer any of them because he knew the minute he set her down in the other room she didn’t recognize him.

  Terrified and holding herself, she huddled away from him and screamed at the top of her lungs to leave her alone. Lincoln pulled apart his pack searching for the drugs. He ripped the shot out of its package and pulled out a vial. Reading the directions as fast as he could he readied the needle and glanced down at his mother.

  “I need you to hold her still,” Lincoln told Wyatt. To get her to stop screaming Jule jumped at the chance to hold the old woman down. Lincoln stuck Gloria with the needle and watched her instantly calm down and shut her eyes.

  

  Noah twisted out of the way right before Heath clipped him with the second table that smashed against his. They’d barred the entrance to the morgue and pushed against the growing weight on the opposite side. Sunken faces and snapping teeth reached over the slick, metal surface desperately hungry. Inch by inch the tables slid backward, the squeal of wheels mocked their losing battle.