by K. M. Raya
The walls suddenly shake, jostling me to the side. Debris and falling dust rain down over me, and I roll across the cement floor. My back slams into the cinderblock wall to my right, and a tug at my ankle has me jerking my foot back, but it’s met with resistance. Whatever just happened outside knocked me into range of those grabby hands reaching through the chain link. Nails bite into my shoes, trying to find purchase by grabbing the laces, buckles and loops however they can manage with broken and crumbling fingers. Their moans have amplified, filling the room with desperate cries, bouncing off the walls and surrounding me in a cocoon of noise. It’s deafening. They’re desperate, piling up against each other, climbing over bodies, shoving their dead faces into the metal, all the while trying their hardest to chew their way to me.
It takes force, but I manage to wrench my foot away from those fingers, taking some with me, but none of it fazes the zoms.They don’t care that they're falling apart. They don’t have any single notion of their own safety. They just need to feed. That's all. They need to crunch and bite and grab and swallow, all the while my body will provide no sustenance.
Another boom from the other side of these thick walls sends me staggering, and a chunk of ceiling flies off, hitting the ground at my feet and breaking into pieces. One large piece of rock ricochets off the ground, slashing me across the cheek to the side of my mask, and I can feel the blood gush over my face. My mask is still firmly on, but I have to clamp my hands over the front of it in order to keep it in place. I refuse to take it off, though, because I know how little it might take to become one of these slobbering beasts. I’ve seen it happen one too many times to make that mistake.
More rubble falls from the ceiling and I have to brace myself against the wall. I can hear voices outside, some screaming and some shouting unintelligible words, but it sounds like a frenzy. I wonder if a horde is slamming through their makeshift camp. The chain link rattles, and I follow the noise to a point on the wall where the metal is coming free from the concrete. Little by little, it chips off as the hands of the dead push on it in a desperate frenzy to get to their meal. I’m a sitting duck in this cage, just like Mac wanted. He left me down here to feed these things, and to make me suffer the same way Liam did.
The chain link bends in on the side and my heart rate skyrockets. This is it. This is how it ends. Once again my fingers shake as my gun rattles in my grip. My whole body feels weightless as those groping arms and legs and gnashing teeth push and push on that fence, bending it further and further until soon, the first body starts to squeeze through.
I suppose I could use these last three bullets to shoot the zoms crashing through. I have the perfect shot. I could end them before they reach me. But there are just too many. Three bullets just isn’t enough. Again, what I wouldn’t give for a butter knife at a time like this. Instead, I scream. I scream so loud that my voice doesn’t even sound like my own. It ricochets around the small kennel, sounding hollow and so terrified you’d think I was being burned alive. There's agony in my scream. I’ve repressed it for so long now that it bursts out of me, needing some sort of relief. If these are my last moments, then I refuse to hold back.
I can’t always be strong. I can’t always come out on top. I guess in the back of my mind I always knew that it would have to end in an unfortunate way. Dying as an old woman peacefully in my sleep was never in the stars for me. Not in this new world that happened so quickly. I only wish these final moments didn’t have to be so lonely.
Another boom, this one much louder than the first two, makes my head spin. A ringing in my ears makes me work my jaw until I practically see double. Smoke begins to filter through tiny cracks in the walls, but all I can focus on are the dead fingers scratching and clawing their way closer. The first body is almost through, and the weight of him only pushes the fence lower to the ground, allowing more to fit through. I scream some more. This time out of pure frustration and helplessness. It’s a guttural sound.
It’s all I can hear for what feels like days but instead is only moments. But then. In the midst of my agony, I hear a sound that has my hackles rising and my heart dropping. The sound of metal clinking to the concrete floor…
Fumbling for my gun, I hold my breath as I bring the barrel up underneath my chin. My finger pulses on the trigger, and I know I have only seconds to do this before I’m overtaken. The world slows down around me, and I try to breathe in steady, but the effort is just too much. Tears pour down my cheeks. I’ve never really put much thought into what my final moments on this earth would be like in reality. Death has always been this sort of abstract idea in a way. Something that was never really in my immediate future, and always something I could put off thinking about for a later time. But now, with death glaring down on me and so many mouths full of angry teeth heading my way, I have no choice. Will the darkness be instant? Will I feel it? What’s waiting for me on the other side?
I have no clue. And it scares the hell out of me. I’m not a religious woman, but I find myself praying as the cold metal presses into that space between my chin and my throat. Closing my eyes tightly, I use my last seconds to picture their faces. Anubis, Wyatt, Dante, Beretta, Alex, Missy and Nina… my family. Tears race over my cheeks and down my fingers as the first footsteps hit only feet from the spot where I kneel on the floor.
I hold my breath for the very last time and squeeze the trigger...
Chapter ☣ 28
Alex
They’re set up at a dog pound. Of all the broken down places to take over they chose this dump. I suppose I should be grateful it isn’t another stadium like the one in Missy and Nina’s story. I may be relatively confident in our skills as a team, but sneaking into a whole ass stadium surrounded by armed men would have been an issue.
Wyatt tracked the trappers all the way here, using his tracking and trailing well enough for us to follow close behind. From over a small hill, we parked behind an abandoned factory in the warehouse district of the city, out of sight of the four men who amble around with guns slung over their shoulders. They look like nothing more than a bunch of grunts. Wannabe soldiers dressed like hillbillies. My blood fucking boils.
Somewhere inside this concrete building is Helana. The girl who’s come to mean more to me than I care to admit out loud. The woman who infuriates me, irritates me and turns me on more than any other woman in the world. She’s in there somewhere having god knows what done to her, and I’m practically chomping at the bit to charge in there guns blazing.
But I don’t. I hold myself back because Dante has a plan. Before we left the store, we loaded up on everything we’d need to get her out of wherever she’s being held. Missy and Nina reluctantly agreed to strap up with some real firepower, despite their misgivings about attracting noise. I’m not too concerned, because as soon as I have a hold of the beautiful blonde captive, we’re hauling ass away from this shithole.
The grunts don’t see us. They’re too busy shooting the shit and pacing back and forth pretending to do important guard things. The surrounding area is surprisingly free of zoms, but I take it they’re the reason for that. According to Helana, trappers collect them, rather than kill them. It sends a shiver over my body, thinking that maybe the reason there are none out here, is because they’re all inside… with her.
There are trapper trucks parked along the perimeter, cages hanging off of them and blood splattered over the sides of the doors. Bullet holes have shattered some windshields, and I see more than a few popped tires. Something tells me they’re here to regroup before setting off again, but I’m sure it's without Helana in tow this time. There’s been no sign of the man who grabbed her—Mac. He’s probably holed up inside, letting the other, lesser men do the dirty work for him. But it’s him I want. I want to see the look on his face when I put a bullet hole in that fancy cowboy hat of his and straight through his forehead.
Dante and Beretta drag over a canvas bag and lay it on the ground, unzipping the massive
thing to reveal a stockpile of homemade pipe bombs. I don’t even want to know how Dante knew how to make these, but being a med student at one point, I guess he knows a little something about chemistry. These are rough, bottom of the barrel, homemade weapons, and I hope to hell they do what they need to do, because without this kind of firepower, I’m not sure we’ll be any use against these heavily armed men. The simple facts are, there are more of them than there are of us.
Dante squats next to me, and Wyatt comes to rest on my other side, eyes locked on the men pacing back and forth. “How many so far?” Wyatt checks the chamber of his gun again.
“No clue.” My eyes flicker sideways. “We doin this, boys?”
Wyatt looks back at me before casting his eyes over my shoulder to Dante. Dante must nod, because Wyatt’s eyes harden. “We’re getting her back. I don’t care how many of these fuckers we have to waste, we’re getting Helana back where she belongs.”
A strange warmth flows through me. One I haven't felt in a really long time. Since before all this mess started. It’s a warmth of brotherhood, of friendship and mutual needs. It’s me and my boys caring for a single woman, and putting her safety above all else. We come together as a tight unit, with a mutual goal, and I have to admit it feels… it feels like coming home.
Anubis crouches by Nina, Missy and Beretta. His hackles are raised, and there’s drool dripping from his mouth. Those deep, black eyes that remind me so much of his namesake, glare at the building as if he can already sense his owner inside, needing his help. He’s a good dog. And loyal as they come. At first, I was reluctant to cart around a dog, as they tend to be noisy and smelly, but Anubis has proved invaluable, so I’m more than happy to fight alongside such a loyal beast.
“Alright, we’re going around the left, and you guys take the right. We need to try and sneak inside without using any of this, I’m betting they’re holding her in the kennels like a prisoner,” whispers Beretta. “Bombs are a last resort, guys. If we can get her out without attracting attention, we do it.”
I know Beretta feels something strong and real for Helana. I can see it written all over her face, and if she thinks she’s hiding it, she needs to guess again. I’m not sure if Helana feels the same way, but it’s interesting to watch every single member of my crew fall head over heels for the same woman. I’ll admit, a part of me thought Beretta might cause a problem between Missy and Nina. But now that I think about it, I feel like a tool. Just because they’re lesbians doesn’t automatically mean they gravitate towards each other. From day one it was all Helana in Ret’s eyes. I can’t blame her. Hell’s smart, sassy, sexy as shit and brave. She’s so fucking brave it makes my toes curl.
I underestimated her. So fucking badly I can never forgive myself. I blamed her for so many things, and treated her like a nuisance from day one. I held a weapon on her injured friend, and threatened her time and time again, trying to bully her out. But she never bowed to my threats. Each and every time I was nothing but a dick, she faced me head on with glee in her golden eyes. I’ve never met a woman like Helana before. A part of me thinks they don’t exist. She’s uniquely her in every delectable way and I have to get in that building before some wackjob decides to snuff out her light. I can’t let that happen. Not while I’m still breathing.
“Load up,” says Wyatt, reaching into the canvas bag. He pulls out three pipe bombs for himself and stuffs them in the pockets of his cargo pants and we all do the same. We each get three, along with our guns and knives. It’s not much, but if we catch them by surprise we might just have a shot.
The kennel isn’t a large building, leading me once again to believe this is just a stop along the way. This town hasn’t been taken over by trappers yet, so I’m assuming their settlement is too far away and they needed a place to stay the night. It’s one single building with a smaller section towards the back that leads out to a few open chain link cages. Idly, a part of me wonders what happened to all the animals that used to be locked inside those cages. When all the humans turned rabid, where did they go? Did they waste away and starve to death? Or did someone come along and set them all free?
“Alright,” Wyatt whispers, locked and loaded. “If anyone gets ahold of Helana, the signal is firing your pistols five times in succession. Five even shots in the air. At that signal, we all haul ass back to the suv and get out of here. Kill any motherfucker who gets in your way, but the priority is Helana.” He swivels to me. “I mean it. No vendettas. Revenge can wait until we’re safe. Helana is the most important thing here, we get her to safety and worry about the trappers after, got it? No hero shit.”
He’s talking directly at me, and I think everyone knows that. I bite the inside of my cheek hard, wanting to argue and tell him how much this Mac dude deserves a bullet to the head, but he’s right. We need to get in and out, because every second we spend in that building is another chance that one of us doesn’t make it out.
Nodding, I take my weapons, making sure I’m locked and loaded before nodding at the others to follow. The four guards that were standing outside have gone for a smoke break inside, getting cocky and abandoning their post. It’s exactly the opening we need. Missy, Niana and Ret make their way around the other side of the building, and the guys follow behind me closely. Ducking behind several parked trapper trucks, we make it to the wall of the concrete building unseen.
There are barely any windows around, so we’ll have to get a little creative. So far, though, I don’t see much of anyone here. From the way the girls described the trappers, they’re loud idiots who like a spectacle, but all’s quiet so far. I signal for Wyatt to take point, and he moves on ahead of us, sneaking around to where a large window faces the side of the building.
The sun is starting to set, so it’s easy to see inside form out here. Several grungy looking men are standing around a small room filled with sofas and dusty, torn chairs.They’re drinking what looks like canned beer, shooting the shit and just generally doing absolutely nothing. Still, I can feel blood boiling in my veins.
“Look at these shits,” Dante snaps. “Trash… all of them.”
“Focus,” whispers Wyatt. “Look, it’s that Mac guy.” he points to the edge of the window where a man in a white cowboy hat sits, looking pissed off and unenthusiastic in the corner. His handlebar mustache is laughable, and I want nothing more than to smash his fucking face in. But Wyatt’s right, Helana’s the priority. We need to find her and get her away from his shit hole.
It’s dark enough outside that we can sneak past the window with relative ease. The men inside don’t even blink as we slink around the corner of the building. We come up on the outdoor cages, and my heart leaps as a face slams against the chain link, black drool seeping from its open mouth and sunken in eyes staring at me vacantly. Several more zoms are crammed together in the small cages, and they all have metal collars wrapped around their necks. I hear a small scuffle and a few grunts. Looking over, I see Dante jabbing them with his dagger through the chain link. He pegs them right in the forehead and they drop instantly
“How many do you think they have?” Wyatt asks. I look at him and find him frowning at the cages. It looks like there are several others descending down a set of stairs that lead to what looks like a cellar.
“Too many,” I mutter.
Dante jogs over and looks both ways before ducking under yet another window that sits higher up on the wall. I don’t see anyone inside, but all it will take is one man to spot us out here and the jig is up. He comes to a stop, squatting down low. “Okay, we gotta get inside. I’m betting they’re holding her in the indoor kennels or in maybe an office somewhere.”
“How do we know she’s even alive?” I ask, and both of them tense up immediately. I hate the words even as I say them, but they have to be said. “Think about it, why would he keep her around unless he wants to use her for something? It makes no sense.”
“Maybe he’s just a twisted son of a bitch,” Wyatt snaps.
“I can’t even
think like that right now,” says Dante, eyes flickering away, but shining with fear. “We’re getting in—” His words are cut off when the sound of a chain link fence rattling against concrete sounds in the silence. We all look at eachother. The sound came from the left, around the corner of the building.
Ducking down, the three of us hurry around the corner, sticking to the shadows and crevices in the building and hoping there aren’t any surprise guards roaming around. To our surprise, just across a small parking lot hidden behind the building, we see the girls ducking behind several trucks, staring at the same spot that drew us closer.
There’s a smaller section of the building with a lower roof than the rest of the structure, and it juts out backwards so that it isn’t visible from where we parked. It’s square in shape, and there’s a long horizontal window lining the very top of the wall, but from the inside comes a chorus of rattling and moans. It sounds like a room full of zombies to me.
I watch Wyatt point to the building, and Ret nods her head. They heard the same thing. I’d bet all the money left rotting in my bank that Helana’s being kept in that room. The night is otherwise silent, save for the moans flowing through the wind. But for just a moment, as we squat in the shadows, I could have sworn I heard a small whimper.
I snap my eyes to Wyatt and Dante, noting the way their heads are cocked and their eyes are wide. They look at me and Dante mouths, “Tell me you heard that…”
I nod, looking back to the building. Suddenly, the sound of shaking metal bursts from the window, followed by a sharp sob that has my blood running cold. She’s definitely in there. My muscles bunch, tensed and ready to tear that wall to pieces with my bare hands.
Suddenly, floodlights illuminate our hiding spot and two trapper trucks rumble to life. The girls dodge the light, hiding behind what looks like an old shed, but those lights are glaring down on us with nowhere to run. A voice shouts in the distance, “Hey!”
