Human Extinction Level Loss (Book 1): Nicole's Odyssey

by McClimon, Philip A.

  Twenty-Four

  Morning came and they all gathered in the cafeteria for breakfast. As they sat around, preparing for the day ahead of them, a day of more running, skating, and shooting, Walt spoke up.

  “Hey, man. I know what would make our time through those offices easier, you know? We need to get rid of all those cubicles, man. Make it a straight shot through there ‘stead of all that bobbin’ and weavin’” he said.

  Nicole sipped her coffee and nodded. “That’s a good plan, Walt. I should have thought of that yesterday,” she said.

  Walt smiled. “Hey, it’s okay, it can’t be on you to think of everything, man. We’re in this together, right?” he said.

  Nicole took a long pull on her coffee. Maybe it wasn’t on her to think of everything, she thought, but she couldn’t help feeling like she had to. She never saw herself as a leader and had told them so, but they all still listened to her and were following a plan that she largely came up with. Nobody had argued with her when she said she was no leader, but no one stepped up to take the position either. She thought of the saying, “Some are born to greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them.” She knew she was not born to greatness, but it felt like the burden was being thrust upon her sure enough. Nicole thought she would like nothing more than to thrust it back, but she just didn’t know how.

  “I think today we need to try some new things,” Nicole said as everyone finished their breakfast. “Sam, you, me, and Walt should do what Walt suggested and clear the rooms as much as possible, the rooms we have to run through. That should cut down on our time in a big way,” she said.

  Walt and Sam nodded. Billy, Paul, and Jordan sat looking at Nicole, waiting. Nicole looked around the room at all their faces.

  There it is, she thought. I’m not their leader but they’re all waiting on me like I am.

  The weight felt real to her and she breathed a sigh like she was about to lift something.

  “Paul, you, Billy, and Jordan should keep working on your skating and driving. Billy, do you think you are up to letting Paul tow you?” She asked.

  Billy nodded.

  “Okay,” she said. They all got up and started moving to the tasks at hand.

  The final pieces of the cubicles were cleared away. Sam, Walt, and Nicole made their way down to the corridor.

  “You know, those zombies are going to be moving all over the place when they are chasing Paul and Billy,” Nicole said.

  Walt and Sam turned to her. “So today, instead of tacking the balloons right to the ceiling, we need to tie them to strings, let them dangle just a bit. It would make them move around in the air, simulate real bobble deadheads, you know?” She said.

  Walt nodded. “I’ll go round us up some string, man,” he said.

  Billy clung to the rope and waited. His stillness contrasted Jordan’s movement, as she examined a strand of her hair and twirled effortless on her skates.

  Seconds later, Billy watched as Paul came running down the ramp and jumped behind the wheel of the golf cart. Paul hit the pedal and the golf cart shot away. All the slack went out of the rope and Billy was pulled forward. The momentum pulled him down and he belly flopped onto the shiny floor of the corridor. He was dragged several feet before Jordan’s screams caused Paul to turn around.

  “Daddy, Stop! You’re killing him!” Jordan hollered.

  Paul turned around and saw what he had done. He hit the break and ran back to Billy. He didn’t like the kid hanging around his daughter, but he didn’t want to drag him to death either. Paul looked down at Billy, concerned. Jordan skated over and helped Billy up as Paul dusted him off.

  “Billy, I’m sorry, son, I-” Paul began. He stopped when he saw Billy laughing.

  “Geez, I really bit it there, didn’t I,” Billy said.

  Jordan’s face looked angry but her playful slap on Billy’s arm told of her relief that he wasn’t hurt. Paul sighed in relief also.

  “Sorry Billy, we have to go slow to go fast. It won’t happen again, I just was excited, you know?”

  Billy smiled, “That’s alright, Mr. Baxter. Now’s the time to make mistakes, right?” Billy said.

  Paul slapped Billy on the shoulder. Seeing he was no worse for wear, Paul turned back to his golf cart and everyone reset for another try.

  Sam stood in the middle of the field, holding the stopwatch. He brought the radio to his mouth and keyed the mic.

  “Okay, start shooting, guys.”

  Within seconds, Sam heard the faint pops of Walt and Nicole firing their rifles. After several shots, he shouted into the radio.

  “Start running, now!”

  Sam started the watch. The numbers climbed to thirty seconds. As it hit thirty-five seconds he saw Nicole and Walt bust out the doors in the office level and come running down the stairs at the seat level. Nicole was in the lead but Walt was just seconds behind. As they both ran past Sam and came to a stop by their vehicles, Sam hit the stop button.

  “I’d call that a Minute thirty for the both of you, not bad!” Sam said.

  Walt and Nicole high-fived each other and were all smiles.

  “I don’t know if we can get much better than that, man,” Walt said.

  “That is pretty good. I think when we actually have to do this, we knock even more time off, what with the adrenaline,” Nicole said.

  Sam went over and handed the watch to Nicole.

  “My turn. Bet I break a minute,” Sam said as he picked up his rifle and headed down the ramp.

  “You break a minute, I cook your breakfast the next two days,” Nicole shouted as Sam started down the ramp. “And if you don’t, you cook me breakfast!” She added, before throwing her support behind Walt. “Get him, Walt,” she said as Walt followed after him. Walt threw up a wave before disappearing down the ramp.

  As Walt and Sam walked down the corridor, Paul came around the bend on the golf cart at a slow pace. Walt and Sam watched as close behind, trailing from the rope was Billy. Jordan skated alongside, keeping an eye on him. He was bent at the knees and looked steady.

  “Alright, Billy!” Walt shouted.

  “Looking good, Billy!” Sam said as Billy passed.

  Without turning, Billy let go with one hand and threw a “thumb’s up” as he rolled down the corridor and out of sight.

  Twenty-Five

  Nicole woke early. Everyone else was still asleep. Her legs were sore from all the running she had been doing the last two days; up stairs, down stairs through the corridor, across the field. She was sure the others were feeling it too, so she did not wake them. She stretched and it felt good as the tightness in her arms and legs gave way. She pulled on her boots and wandered out to the field.

  All was quiet, but of course all was not peaceful. She walked down to where her GTO was parked, near the clear, wall sized polycarbonate door.

  The Dead had not gone to sleep. They clamored still, pushing against the glass. Some pounded with their fists, others smashed their heads. Nicole approached slowly. The Dead just across from her on the other side became agitated. They banged, smashed, and pushed with an unbridled urgency to get to her. It created a ripple effect, as those down the length on either side sensed the response of those closest to her and reacted in kind. Nicole looked down the full length of the door to either side. They had not breached the door and probably never would, but neither would she if something wasn’t done. That something was what they had all spent the last two days preparing for. Nicole wondered if it was worth it. She entertained the idea of giving up, but it was not something she could consider seriously even for a moment. She would get out of here, would make it to Colorado, would survive.

  Nicole stopped inches from the glass and locked eyes with one of the Dead. She saw nothing there but unquenchable, insatiable hunger. Dead to the left and the right closed in against the glass and Nicole lost herself in the frenzy. She put her hand to the glass and watched as heads went to it, trying to bite and chew through the door. The Dead were as single mi
nded as she knew she had to be. She knew on some level the Dead had not made a conscious decision to be so, rather the decision had been made for them. She wondered if they were not just a reflection of what humanity had always been. Between her and them was an invisible barrier. She placed her other hand against the glass and more of the Dead clamored to get to her.

  Humanity had always sought after its hungers, she thought, had always been single minded in pursuit of its desires. Had another barrier been torn down, one also unseen, that kept human nature from showing its truer form? Were the things on the other side of the glass what we humanity had always been?

  Nicole felt like she was no longer looking at the Dead, but a magic mirror that reflected human nature back at her, stripped of a veneer of civility, decency, and correctness. Nicole felt a pang of guilt wash over her as her mind wandered.

  She had neglected her father, shunned him, pursued isolation from him with… a hunger. She was not like him, she valued people, helped when she could, saw meaning in all life.

  This is what she told herself. But what of the others now still asleep? If she were being honest, she resented them for slowing her down, from getting to safety… with her father, all in the name of survival. Had she not shunned her father for emotional survival, resented Sam, Walt, and the others for the threat they may pose to her physical survival? Was single-minded self preservation the living version of what was on the other side of the doors?

  With these thoughts, she hung her head and found it hard to be proud of who she was. A tear ran down her cheek. It hung suspended on the tip of her nose before it dropped away. She raised her head and pressed herself against the glass, sending the horde into a new frenzy. After several seconds, she backed away, her fists clenched. She let out a scream and hit the glass. The Dead she had locked eyes with jerked its head back for a second, then slammed it against the glass. Nicole slowly turned and walked back across the field. It was time to wake the others. There was work to do.

  Twenty-Six

  Everyone shuffled into the cafeteria. None of them were “morning” people and so everyone moved in their own haze as they tried to shake off the slumber of the night before. Nicole sat at one of the tables drinking her coffee as everyone got their food and found a seat.

  Sam shuffled over and plopped down next to Nicole. Nicole stared at Sam who looked like he was trying to work up enough energy to put spoon to bowl. He had a spoon full of frosted oats half way to his mouth when Nicole cleared her throat.

  “Forgetting something, Sam?” she asked him.

  Sam looked over at her a second before realization pierced his grogginess. Sam put the spoon back in the bowl and shoved it over to Nicole.

  “Thank you, Sam. That’s very sweet,” she said, smiling.

  Having “served” Nicole her breakfast, Sam hauled himself up to go get his own. Halfway to the kitchen, Nicole called out to him.

  “Hey Sam, you come in under a minute today… I’ll let you drive the GTO,” she said.

  Sam turned and smiled. “You mean when we hightail it out of here?” he asked.

  Nicole smirked. “Nooo… but… sometime,” she said.

  Sam turned and made his way to the kitchen, a little more pep in his step.

  After breakfast, they all went to their assigned tasks.

  Nicole stood by the vehicles and keyed the radio. “Alright, Sam, Walt. Start shooting.”

  Nicole listened for the pops of the rifles, barely audible out on the field, and tried not to think what that would mean for tomorrow. When several rounds had been fired, she shouted into the radio.

  “Alright, Sam, Walt! Go!”

  Nicole mashed the button on the stop watch. The second hand raced around the thirty second mark. When it began its climb toward forty-five, she looked up and saw Sam and Walt bust out the doors and race down the steps.

  “Yeah, Sam, Walt!” she shouted as she watched them hit the field and run towards her.

  She mashed the button on the watch at fifty-three as the two raced passed her and slapped hands on the vehicles. Huffing, Sam, and Walt turned and looked at her, waiting to hear their time.

  “Under a minute, guys,” Nicole said.

  Sam and Walt turned and high-fived. “Looks like I got me a ticket to ride,” Sam said.

  Nicole smiled. “I promised,” she said. The three walked back over to the field entrance.

  “Let's see how many balloons you got though, man,” Walt said.

  Nicole smirked and picked up on Walt’s friendly ribbing. “I bet he just shot his gun in the air as he was running,” she said.

  Sam furrowed his brow. “Did not, I got all of them,” he protested.

  Walt and Nicole looked at him and his confidence faltered. “Well, almost all of them,” Sam said.

  Nicole laughed.“Uh-huh.”

  Walt, Sam, and Nicole looked up at Sam’s line of balloons. Of the twelve that were strung across the width of the corridor, five were popped.

  “You said you got almost all of them, Sam. That’s not even half. Walt got nine of his,” Nicole said.

  Sam looked at the balloons, frowning. Walt looked at him and put his hand on Sam’s shoulder.

  “Tell you what, Sam. I’ll make you the same deal Nicole made. You get nine of those balloons next time, you can drive my bus, man,” Walt said.

  Nicole tried to hide a smile. Sam looked over at Walt with a faltering grin.

  “The bus… um…” Sam’s words failed him.

  “She’s a sweet ride, Dude,” Walt added. All smiles, he slapped Sam on the back then moved to string some new balloons.

  Billy felt like he was flying. The urethane wheels of the in-line skates under his feet hummed softly across the smooth polished surface of the corridor floor. As he gripped the rope, he kept his knees bent slightly and his body relaxed just like Jordan had taught him. He watched as ahead of him, Paul turned around and smiled. Billy smiled back as Paul gave him the “thumbs-up” and told him he was going to go a little faster. Seconds later the breeze whipped a little stronger through his hair and the sense of flying increased. He looked over to his left and saw Jordan by his side. She was keeping pace effortlessly, her arms swinging from side to side, her body swaying. Billy thought at that moment that even if he wasn’t on the skates he would still feel like he was flying just by looking at her. He looked ahead and leaned into the curve, straightening up again on the straightaway. He thought this was the best day of his life. As the air slid over and past him he felt as if he was being washed clean. He wasn’t the rich kid, or the wimp, or the boy that everyone overlooked. He was Billy, doing something important, to help out. He was being relied upon and might even get a girlfriend out of the deal. It was a good day and Billy smiled.

  As they made the last turn and hit the home stretch, he saw Paul turn and give him the signal. Billy began to pull himself forward. Hand over hand he edged himself closer to the rear seat of the cart. He grabbed the frame of the canopy that formed the cart’s roof and pulled himself into the seat just as Paul decelerated and made the sharp turn up the ramp to the field. The cart bucked as it hit the ramp and shot out onto the concrete perimeter. Billy held on against the momentum as Paul came to a screeching halt by Walt’s bus. Billy climbed out as Jordan came racing up. She embraced him, her own forward momentum causing them to spin in a circle. Paul came over and cleared his throat, and smiling, gently separated the two adolescents. Billy stuck his hands in his pockets and looked down, but only for a second. He felt Paul’s hand pat him on the back, watched him mouth the words “good job”. He glanced up at Jordan being led away by her father. She looked at him over her shoulder and beamed.

  Billy skated back towards the ramp. It was a good day.

  Walt emerged from the bus and came around the back. Everyone was assembled.

  “It’s all packed up tight, man. Nothing left to it, but to do it, you know,” he said.

  They had spent the final hours of the day helping Paul and Jordan gather the thing
s they wanted to take with them and packing them into Walt’s bus. Nicole surveyed the group. They all looked up at Nicole when she approached. They waited, like they expected her to say something and she suddenly felt like she should.

  “We don’t lose anybody tomorrow, understand?” She said.

  It was curt and more to the point than she wanted to make it, but it’s what she wanted to say. Everyone nodded. Nicole had given them their battle cry. The reality of what they had to do bolstered their understanding more than words ever could. Knowing what had to be done filled everyone’s mind. They slowly wandered off the field to try and get some sleep.

  Nicole lay on a couch staring up at the ceiling in one of the training rooms. She thought they were ready. They had trained like they were going to fight. There was nothing left but to fight like they had trained. As she tried to sleep, she wondered if she had been too hard on her father growing up. Tomorrow she would put people in harm’s way based on an idea she had encouraged. If people died it would be on her. This is what her father dealt with his whole life. No wonder he was distant and hard, she thought. Nicole could feel now what must have weighed on her father almost every mission. She promised herself when she got to Colorado she would tell him that maybe she finally understood. It was the comfort of this thought that let Steven Bennett’s daughter finally drift off to sleep.

  Twenty-Seven

  Paul stood in the center of the field staring at the clear doors beyond the end-zone. The Dead relentlessly tried to get in. Nicole came up to him and Paul looked at her.

  “I found the old air horn. It’s the one me and Trevor used… Figured this would get their attention even if, you know, all this beefcake didn’t,” he said, gesturing to his physique.