Death Squad (Book 2): Zombie State

by Dalton, Charlie

The Teenager lowered back down to her seat. Michael turned back to Julie.

  “Tape me up, big Sally,” he said.

  “How?” Julie said. “You’re full of holes.”

  “See any skin or flesh hanging off?”

  “Loads.”

  “Sellotape it back on.”

  Julie identified the worst part of his ruined back. A large chunk of flesh the size of her fist. She pushed it back into place—where she thought its place was—and ran the tape around his torso.

  The Teenager put a hand to her mouth. “I’m going to be sick.”

  “Imagine how I feel,” Michael said.

  He opened the girl’s Facebook app on her phone and accessed the cameras he’d set up on the two floors below. So far, no one was there.

  “I don’t understand how you can survive with so many bullets in you,” Big Man said. “No one can survive that. You should be dead a dozen times over already.”

  “I don’t understand how you could survive being so stupid, either,” Michael said. “I guess we’re both as confused as each other.”

  Big Man’s lip curled. Michael had touched a nerve. “I’m not stupid. I’m the CEO of a successful programming company—”

  “Blah, blah, blah. Still not smart enough to evacuate the building though, were you? Look at this place. It’s empty. Except for you lot on the second floor. If everyone else had the sense to leave, why didn’t you?”

  “We had a deadline to meet. And the chances of you entering our building rather than any of the others was exceedingly remote.”

  “And look where we are. The chances of winning the lottery are exceedingly remote too, and yet someone wins it most weeks.”

  “You know what?” the Teenager said. “I think I’m going to sue you if I get out of here alive.”

  “What?” Big Man said. “Sue me for what?”

  “You put me in unnecessary danger,” the Teenager said. “I shouldn’t even be here.”

  “I like your style,” Michael said to the girl, getting a smile out of her. “You’ll go far. Although I can’t promise you’ll live to see tomorrow. It depends on how you behave over the next thirty minutes or so. But good on you for standing up for yourself.”

  Julie identified another chunk of flesh hanging precariously from Michael’s body. It slipped from her hand and slopped to the floor beneath its own weight.

  The Teenager cupped a hand over her mouth and turned green.

  “Try not to lose too much of me,” Michael said. “That’s a good dear.”

  “You would sue me?” Big Man said. “Seriously? After all the opportunities I gave you?”

  “I seem to recall something else you took from me too,” the Teenager said. “Several times. So I guess we’re even.”

  Big Man wore a hurt expression. If he thought the girl felt anything for him, he was to be sorely disappointed.

  So, something was going on between the two of them. Michael gave himself a cerebral high-five.

  “What are we doing here?” Big Man said, turning angry now. “Why are we sitting here? What’s your plan of escape?”

  “Escape?” Michael said. “Who said anything about escape?”

  “You don’t want to escape?”

  “Of course I want to escape! Moron!”

  Big Man, riled up by the Teenager turning against him, got to his feet. Michael aimed the shotgun at him.

  “What do you think you’re doing there, partner?” he said.

  “We’re not afraid of you. You act tough but you’re nothing but a coward!”

  Showtime, Michael thought. Here presenteth the hero.

  “No?” Michael said. “Maybe you should be afraid.”

  Big Man stood up straight. He was tall, muscular, and physically powerful. He’d probably never experienced being afraid of anyone his entire life.

  “You want to see what fear looks like?” Michael said.

  He got to his feet. He walked around the table and flicked on the flashlight of the smartphone. He turned it on himself. The big man’s face curdled. Not with fear but disgust.

  “Sick freak,” Big Man said.

  “Sick, certainly. Freakish? Perhaps, yes. How would you like to join me?”

  He tapped a finger to a hole in his body and pressed it in Big Man’s mouth. He started back, spitting out what Michael had put in him.

  “What are you—?”

  It was all Big Man managed before he started coughing. His coworkers sidled up to him, slapping him on the back. Michael moved back to his seat and fell into it.

  Big Man leaned back, shoving his friends and colleagues away, sensing something unnatural about to happen.

  “What did you do to him?” Julie said.

  “I’m not doing anything,” Michael said. “He did this to himself.”

  By now, the Big Man was wheezing and clutching his hands over his stomach. He lost the strength of his legs and collapsed on the floor. The others crowded around.

  “I wouldn’t get so close if I were you,” Michael warned.

  “I hate to say it but he’s right,” the Teenager said. “If we get any of his blood in our system, we turn into one of them. It’s all over social media. It’s the virus. That’s what’s happening to him. He’s turning into a zombie.”

  “Pull the other one,” Baldy said. “Everyone knows that’s fake news.”

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” the Teenager said, stepping back.

  Big Man shivered violently on the floor.

  “I think he’s having an epileptic fit,” Julie said. “Somebody get something to rest his head-on.”

  The Teenager removed her jacket. She folded it up into a ball and handed it to Julie, who placed it under Big Man’s head.

  “You’re going to be all right,” Julie said. “Gerome? You’re going to be okay—”

  The result was so predictable and expected that Michael didn’t bat an eyelid. The other coworkers screamed as they rushed to their feet. Big Man leaped up faster than they could believe. They pressed themselves to the wall.

  Michael approached the zombie, who sniffed him but found nothing of interest. Then he spied the others crowded in the corner and moved for them.

  “Woah, woah, woah,” Michael said. “Take it easy, partner. These guys, seriously. Their eyes are bigger than their belly.”

  Unrestrained, Big Man lurched toward the other employees. They screamed and scattered, hiding behind one another, sacrificing each other to save themselves.

  Big Man came to a stop. Michael held him back with a hand tucked in the back of his pants.

  “Now, do I have your undivided attention?” Michael said.

  They nodded.

  “What?” Michael said, raising a hand to his torn ear. “I can’t hear you.”

  Big Man struggled, pulling against his restraint, big hands grasping at his former co-workers.

  “Y-Yes!” the coworkers said.

  “What?” Michael said, letting Big Man inch a little closer.

  The workers screamed.

  “Yes!” they shouted.

  “That’s more like it,” Michael said. “Now, I’m going to be asking you to do things for me. I don’t want any arguing or second-guessing. I want obedience. Understood?”

  They nodded.

  Michael rolled his eyes, then said in a singsong voice: “I can’t hear you!”

  “Yes!” the workers said.

  “Good,” Michael said. “I expect complete and total subservience. Anything else, and you become like your good friend here. Is that understood?”

  “Yes!”

  “Excellent.” Michael turned to Big Man. “You’ve been a most gracious assistant but I’m afraid I’m going to have to let you go.”

  He swung Big Man around like a hammer thrower and released him, sending him sliding across the floor and slamming into a desk.

  Michael opened the door to the big office and calmly stepped inside. The others sprinted behind him. Michael shut the door. The zombie
struck the door, bumping into it.

  “That’s the worst of the chaff stripped away,” Michael said, clapping his hands. “Now it’s time to get down to business.”

  38.

  TOMMY SIGHED and squeezed the trigger of his rifle twice in quick succession. A pair of bullets in the brain of the zombie they’d stumbled across.

  “Well, that was unexpected,” Emin said.

  “There’s no one else on this floor,” Tommy said, returning from having carried out a quick sweep. “Sean, can you watch over this guy and see if he becomes a Walker?”

  “Sure,” Sean said.

  “Chances are slim,” Emin warned.

  “But there’s still a chance.” Tommy turned back to Sean. “We’re going to search the other floors. Radio in when you see movement or have any trouble.”

  Sean pulled a swivel chair over to sit in front of the dead body, pistol resting in his lap.

  “We’ll be back soon,” Tommy said.

  He led Emin out the door and up the stairs.

  39.

  MICHAEL COULD see why the big guy had chosen the teenager. She had an awesome sinuous body hidden beneath the thick folds of her sweater. She wasn’t shy about showing it off either. On another day, in another time, who knew what might have happened between them. Today, Michael needed to focus. It was a matter of life and death.

  She stood there, hands on her hips, confident and strong, as Baldy and Julie, bodies already sagging with age held their hands in front of themselves self-consciously. Michael let them keep their underwear. He wasn’t a sicko.

  Michael put on Baldy’s plush suit. Baldy turned his nose up at Michael’s rags. He couldn’t blame him. They were dirty and encrusted with blood.

  “You’ll live to see tomorrow so long as you stick to the plan,” Michael said.

  “Which is?” Julie said. “You haven’t told us anything.”

  “Makes it easier to stick to that way, doesn’t it?”

  Michael knew the Death Squad would already be in the building. With the limited equipment he had, there was little he could do to stop them. But maybe, if he got very lucky, he could distract them.

  Michael raised the Teenager’s phone and observed the twin cameras he’d set up on the lower floors.

  He hadn’t been perturbed at all when he saw Sharp Suit get attacked by Danny, but was interested in the fact Tommy had decided it wise to leave the youngest member of their team behind to watch him. Seeing that boy sitting there, so close to the camera, alone, was intoxicating for Michael. It would have been so easy to take him out. But doing so would in all likelihood warn Tommy where he was and what he was doing. And that could not be allowed to pass.

  Tommy and his cohort left the second floor and would scale up the stairs to the third.

  Julie had taped the others’ hands together in front of them and put tape over their mouths. Standing back, Michael thought they could pass for hostages all right. It was what they were, after all.

  “Let’s get this show on the road,” Michael said.

  The zombie had long since stopped walking into the door. Michael opened it and found the zombie standing there, its back to them. Michael grasped it by its bloodied shirt and marched it backward. Then he paused, coming to a stop.

  “No, wait,” he said. “There’s something I’m forgetting. Everyone in this room. Quick.”

  He opened the door to a meeting room. Julie and the Teenager entered. Michael stepped in Baldy’s path, blocking him. The women turned and looked at Michael with a look of confusion.

  “Be quiet and you’ll get out of this,” Michael said. “You have my word.”

  He pulled the office door shut.

  “I’ve got other plans for you, big man,” Michael said.

  Baldy’s eyes widened. He attempted to pull his hands apart but Julie had done too good a job in restraining them. He muffled around the tape for help but that too was out of the question. He turned to run, but Michael was on him. He grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him back into the big boss’s office. He threw Baldy into the chair, shoved the zombie out into the main office floor again, and shut the door behind him.

  “You always wanted to be the big boss, right?” Michael said. “Now’s your chance.”

  He scooped up the roll of Sellotape and got to work.

  40.

  TOMMY AND Emin climbed the stairs to the third floor. They searched it and, again, came up with nothing.

  “Ever get the feeling like you’re getting the run around?” Emin said.

  Yes. But they still had to check each floor. They exited the room and climbed the stairs to the fourth.

  41.

  AFTER A few minutes had passed, and it was clear Michael wasn’t going to return immediately, the Teenager and Julie peeled the tape back from their lips with their hands. They checked the room for weapons but they’d been unfortunate to have discovered a room largely devoid of items. Besides, they’d seen what Michael could live through. A pencil, no matter how sharp, was hardly going to do much debilitating damage to him.

  The Teenager took a seat on the floor. “I don’t know how I get myself in these situations. Wherever I go, whatever I do, I get in trouble.”

  “You’re a teenager, you’re supposed to make mistakes,” Julie said, groaning as she joined her on the floor. “God knows I did.”

  The Teenager looked at Julie askance. “You?”

  “Don’t judge me on the way I look now. When I was your age I was more of a hellion than you could even dream of being.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “That’s typical of your generation. You don’t believe anything. Except for the wrong things, of course. When I was your age, I was the one all the men fancied. I was the one who could have done anything with my life. Then one day, I decided to be prim and proper. And look where that got me. I ended up here. Believe me, it’s better to keep making mistakes than to live every day in safety.”

  “It’s. . . hard to imagine you as—” The Teenager searched for the right word.

  “A teenager?”

  “Yes, I suppose.”

  “Look up from your phone once in a while and you’ll have a better imagination. The old like to complain about the young. We’re jealous. We forget the world’s changed, that our parents did the exact same thing to us.” She fixed the Teenager with a twinkle in her eye. “Don’t worry, my girl. You’re doing fine. Follow this crazy man’s plan and we might just live through this. If you manage to, do yourself a favor and never return to this office ever again. It’s a vortex. Once you’re comfortable, you’ll never escape its clutches.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m talking to myself too.”

  The Teenager beamed. “Thanks, Julie. You know, I always thought you were a bit of a stuffed shirt.”

  “I always thought you were a tart,” Julie said, not without kindness.

  “I guess that’s why I always get in trouble. Picking the wrong men.”

  “Better than me these days. I decided to pick no men. And look at us. Both in the same place. At least you have some fun while you were making your mistakes. More than I can say.”

  “I wouldn’t say it was fun.”

  The key rattled in the lock.

  “Speaking of the wrong men. . .” Julie said, getting to her feet.

  They refastened the tape over their mouths and stood to attention. The door opened.

  “We don’t have a lot of time,” Michael said. “Let’s go.”

  Julie spoke, but her words were muffled. Along with the questioning look on her face, it was clear she was asking after Baldy.

  “He has. . . an important meeting to make,” Michael said.

  The poor attempt to stifle the cruel smile that twisted his features told Julie everything she needed to know about what that meant.

  You just worry about yourself now, girl, she told herself. You just worry about yourself.

  42.

  TOM
MY AND his team searched the fourth floor as they had done the others and, yet again, discovered nothing of interest. It was only when they heard the thud of something above that their interest peaked. They turned and ran for the door that led to the stairs up to the fifth floor.

  Tommy kicked the door open, rifle raised and ready to rock and roll. But the office floor was, once again, empty.

  Something caused that thump we heard earlier. And I know it couldn’t have been a ghost.

  Along the lefthand wall were a series of small offices and meeting rooms. They moved through the space, Tommy taking point as Emin followed behind. They crept silently, step by step, opening each door they came to. There was no sign anything had been disturbed.

  Tommy reached for the doorknob of the final meeting room. He nodded at Emin and threw the door open, moving to one side as she entered first.

  Inside was what had caused the disturbance.

  The zombie was big, fat and had been greying at the temples until his timeline had been stunted prematurely. He turned to them, growled, and shuffled in their direction. Emin put a bullet in him, shutting him down for good.

  “I guess he was what made the sound, huh?” Emin said, wiping a hand over her brow. It wasn’t sweaty. It was a nervous tick. It was still difficult forgetting the habits of their former living bodies.

  “Mmff!”

  The duo snapped to attention, turning to face the final room they hadn’t checked. It had to be the only place Michael could have gone. If he’d taken to the roof, the helicopters would have spotted him. Unless he figured a way out of this place.

  Tommy checked Emin was with him. She was. This time, Emin would open the door. It was her turn. She reached for the doorknob and prepared to turn it. She checked with Tommy, who nodded his head. She turned the knob and threw the door open.

  BLAM!

  A shotgun blast. It blew a clear hole in the flimsy fiberwood of the doorframe.

  Tommy immediately fell to one knee, raised his rifle, and opened fire. He heard a grunt as someone took the shot. Out the corner of his eye, he spied the silhouette of a head against the backdrop of lights from the buildings on the other side of the street.