by bret Wellman
He wrapped her up and squeezed as he was stunned by ecstasy washing through him. His mind went blank; there was only the feeling of being part of her.
Slowly, the world came back into focus. They were both dazed and breathing heavily. The study had been partially destroyed, the bookshelf they leaned against was empty, its books scattered across the aisle.
Zoey sighed and kissed the top of his head.
"Wow," she said.
He just smiled.
Chapter 26
They went outside to find that the sun had gone down and the temperature had plummeted. Winter was making its first play for the land. A few snowflakes fell here and there only to melt upon contact with the ground.
As soon as they stepped outside, Zoey wrapped her arms around herself for warmth. Her leather jacket was thin and did little more than a sweatshirt to fight the cold. Their breaths came in foggy wisps. Dan blew into his hands and rubbed them together. He felt a prickling chill run through him and had to fight the urge to turn back inside.
The police were walking through the crowd, picking out all the children and their mothers, to let them sleep inside the library for the night. There wasn't enough room inside to house everybody without disrupting the work that was going on inside, so they had drawn the line at women and children.
The firefighters were chopping down some of the trees that surrounded the park and using the wood to fuel camp fires they had started. They encouraged everyone that they should keep the fires going through the night to provide warmth. It was a good thing they were; the night was going to be a bitch even with the fires. Dan couldn't imagine what it would be like without them.
Zoey and Dan found Barns sitting Indian-style in front of one of the camp fires, his big gut hanging down into his lap. He was just as cheerful as ever, his eyes shining in the firelight.
"Hew doggy, we goin' campin', Dan!" he said, holding out blankets that he had been saving for them.
"How did your day go, Barns?" asked Zoey.
"Good, good, just waiting on mo' flip flop is all."
"Well, you might be waiting a long time, I think we are stuck here with no booze," said Dan.
Barns shook his head frantically. "No, no, no, if dere be flip flop here, I'm gonna find it."
As Dan began to relax one of the firefighters came up and gave them all styrofoam cups. Dan's stomach growled as he smelled the chili that was inside. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten, and slurped the whole thing down straightaway.
It burned as it slid down his throat; he instantly regretted not taking his time. Each one of his taste buds cried out in protest and he knew nothing would taste right for the next few days.
"Tank you fo’ dis!" said Barns, licking his lips.
The firefighter just nodded and moved on to feed the next person.
The ground was cold underneath them but the fire was hot. Dan knew he would be warm enough with Zoey, but he worried about Barns. Judging by the look on his face, Barns didn't share the same sentiment, he was just happy to be sitting at a fire.
The stars were all coming out; billions dotted the sky, the milky way spread out in a white smear. It was a sight he wasn't used to, it took him a moment before he realized why. There was no light pollution, the image of space was free to penetrate the inner city.
Welcome to New York, he thought, the year seventeen-hundred.
Dan pondered on the idea for a while. It seemed as though the city had lost power, yet the library was still up and running. He assumed there was a backup generator on; someone inside the safe zone must have been keeping it running.
Laying there on the ground, one half of him hot, the other half ice-cold, Dan fell asleep. He woke up every few hours because it was so uncomfortable. His body would not let him fall back asleep until he turned his colder half towards the fire. He felt like a rotisserie meal for most of the night. It was even painful at times; he kept dreaming that he was on fire. Every time it would wake him and he would find that the cold air had turned random parts of his body completely numb. He fully expected his ears to fall off from frostbite by the end of it.
Eventually the morning came, replacing the stars with a blue sky that hung over the eerily empty streets. It looked down on them like an old friend that had gone stale from too many heartbreaks.
Dan sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. The first thing he noticed, was that all the National Guardsmen that had been stationed around the park were gone. As far as he could tell, there was only one left. Whoever was in charge of them must be pulling all their resources, he thought.
He shook Barns, who woke with a start, swiping upwards and catching Dan by the shoulder. Dan was surprised by the power of the hand that held him. It was sturdy and firm, ready to kill.
"What in da hell, Dan? I thought you was a zombie!" he said.
Zoey was a little bit softer when awoken; she simply stretched and sat up. A loose lock of hair fell across her face and she had to tuck it behind her ear before standing up.
"Come on," said Dan. "Something is going on around here and I am not sitting around waiting to die."
Zoey looked skeptical. "I take it you have a plan?"
"Dan always got ah plan," said Barns.
Dan shook his head, "Not really but if the world is going to come crashing down on top of us, we might as well go out and watch it."
"So you want to go hang out on the front line?" Zoey asked.
"First we figure out where Dicky is at."
As it turned out, Dicky was on the front steps of the library. He was helping with the construction of a massive barricade that stretched out into Fifth Avenue.
The large area of the new barricade boxed in the front of the library, making it possible to form a defense in front of the library steps. They would be fighting from almost every angle, but as far as last resorts go, it was better than nothing.
A bunch of police cruisers had been parked sporadically, filling a lot of the big holes in the new barricade. Sandbags were being stacked all over and under them to fill in all the spaces that the zombies could get through. Twenty cops and a few guardsmen worked together to throw the sandbags around and fortify the walls as best as possible.
Two fire engines had been parked end to end, pointing out towards the street, their back tires on the steps, their noses ten feet from the cruisers at the front of the barricade. They took up a large chunk of the space in the center. The firefighters were working to get their hoses attached to a nearby hydrant.
Three snow plow trucks had been backed all the way up the steps until they were almost touching the library; there was no room to fit any more. The getaway cars, Dan thought as he walked past them, they are making plans in case we are overrun.
"What's all this?" asked Dan as they walked up.
"Something I don't plan on using," said Dicky.
Zoey placed her hand on the side of one of the fire engines. "Then why build it?"
"Because we are probably going to end up using it."
The door flung open to one of the buildings across the street, and two cops came out holding a long wooden table. Dan caught a glimpse of more cops inside, tarring up furniture, before the door closed.
"Where are we taking this?" asked one of the cops carrying the table.
Dicky pointed up the steps. "Start a pile near the back of the library. I want to board up all the exits so that the front door is the only way anybody can get in or out."
The two cops nodded before continuing on with the table.
"What's going on, Dicky?" Dan asked, sounding more concerned. If they were beginning to board up all the doors and windows, he was pretty damn sure that wasn’t a good sign.
Dicky turned from his work to look at him, "The number of zombies attacking the safe zone is tripling by the hour. It has been happening since the sunrise and only seems to be picking up speed. The theory going around is that the zombies have run out of food and more of their attention is being turned in our directio
n."
“Shit," said Dan.
"Tell me about it, we are going to be crushed under all the bodies before they ever get a chance to eat us..."
Dan shook his head, trying to banish the thought of his impending doom. Zoey squeezed a fistful of his shirt.
"I think I am going to need your help," Dicky said. "I sent a few of my guys out to the edge of the safe zone, as many as I could spare. I gave them the order not to shoot unless it looks like the National Guard is starting to slip. I'm hoping the extra guns will buy us a few extra hours to fortify the other barricades." He shifted uncomfortably as if he didn't like what he was about to say. "Unfortunately I didn't have enough men to fill all the positions. I wasn't able to send anybody to Forty-third and Fifth. We are only as strong as our weakest link; when one group falls back every position is compromised and they all have to fall back. Do you guys think you could head to Forty-third and Fifth to provide backup?"
"You want us?" Zoey asked.
"I am putting all my efforts into strengthening the smaller perimeter. If I spare any more men it could cost us, we are already spread way too thin as it is."
Dan felt a sudden wave of urgency creeping up his spine. "Tell us what we need to do to get started."
"Hey," Dicky yelled. "Can we get these guys some pistols?"
Ten minutes later they were each given a pistol with one clip of extra ammunition and pointed in the right direction. Dan had been expecting to get some extra equipment, maybe a helmet or a bulletproof vest or two, but they had received none.
As they began the walk up Fifth Avenue, it felt lonesome compared to the days when it was packed with people. Even though they could hear gunshots echoing from a couple blocks ahead, Dan felt like they were alone.
The buildings were darker around them, as if the spirits of the fallen were still trapped there. He had the strange feeling of being watched. His mind was playing tricks on him. A few times he thought he saw movement through the black windows, only when he turned there was no one there. Once he even saw a pair of eyes staring out at him, but when he blinked they were gone.
The first barricade was on the corner of Fifth Avenue and Forty-second Street. A small group of cops and a small group of firefighters were positioning cop cars so that they blocked both the road and the sidewalk. Dan noticed a window was broken out in a building to his right, one story up. He caught the silhouette of a National Guardsman sighting his sniper rifle.
"I don't think you want to go that way," one of the cops said when they started climbing across the hood of a police car blocking their path.
"Dicky asked us if we would give the guys on the front line some help," said Dan.
The cop shook his head and turned back to his work: "Good luck."
Dan nodded to the guy before continuing on his way.
The street only grew worse from there. It went from creepy to downright morbid. There was a hand still holding onto the steering wheel of a car that they passed, no body, no arm, just a hand. The image of it was instantly burned into Dan’s retina. From that point on, every time he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, he jumped.
The gunfire grew louder the closer they got to the edge of the safe zone. Dan wondered if this was what it felt like to march into war. He checked that the safety was off on his pistol and cocked back the chamber. His hands were trembling slightly, his nerves were on end. He wished the trembling would stop. He was beginning to lose his cool.
"How good are you guys with a gun?" Zoey asked them.
"I'm learning," said Dan.
Barns smiled. "I shot one once!"
"Don't worry, I can teach you a few tricks that will help," said Dan.
Zoey looked at him skeptically. "Teach me a few tricks? I didn't always live in Manhattan, you know."
"Alright, so you are saying you know a little bit about guns?"
Zoey's eyebrows went up. "I'm saying my parents had me enrolled in competitive shooting programs for the first fifteen years of my life... so stay behind me."
He might have questioned her more, but right then they were approaching the mouth of the intersection. Even if he had tried, the gunfire would have drowned out his voice.
When Dan stepped out onto the corner of Forty-fourth and Fifth Avenue, there was a barricade on the opposite side of the intersection in front of him, and one to his right. Both were on the verge of collapse.
Chapter 27
It's an ocean, was all Dan could think as the endless mass of zombies stumbled towards him.
The National Guardsmen all fired wildly, trying to keep the plethora of living dead at bay.
Zoey's mouth was agape as she stepped into the intersection. Waves of endless movement reflected in her pupils. She shook her head, seeming to snap herself out of whatever dark thought she was in.
"I'll go straight," she said. "You and Barns go help the guys to our right."
Dan nodded as she began walking towards the barricade on the opposite side of the street. Turning to his right, he wondered how in the hell they were supposed to help in any way that would influence anything. The pistol felt like a peashooter in his hand.
"I don't think I can take so many, Dan," said Barns as he eyed the barricade before them.
"No shit," said Dan. "Maybe we should just go break into the nearest bar. There is bound to be one somewhere around here."
Barns gave him a stern look. "Dis not the time fo' dat."
"You have got to be kidding me."
"I no kid. If dey break through den we gone die."
"Well, what do you want to try?" asked Dan. "Nothing we do is going to make a difference."
"Dis." Barns struggled with the pistol for a moment before getting it cocked. He pointed the gun out past the barricade and fired a bullet that winged a zombie in the shoulder.
A few of the National Guardsmen looked back to see who was shooting; none of them looked too happy with what they saw.
"What the hell!" one of them yelled before turning back towards the fray.
Dan had seen enough. If Barns wanted them to do something, he would do it.
"First off, we need a better angle," he said, walking over to the sidewalk.
The guardsmen were mostly in the center of the road, there was room on the sidewalk for them to get right up to the barricade. Dan observed that the zombies began to drop at about forty feet out. They kept thinning from that point on until they reached twenty feet; none of them crossed the twenty foot mark.
"Do you see that guy in the red shirt, the one missing his jaw?" Dan asked. Barns nodded. "Quick, try and pick him off before he gets taken out by one of the guardsmen."
Barns lifted his rifle, aimed with one eye and fired. The zombie’s throat exploded, painting the zombies behind it red. It kept walking until it was taken out by a guardsman's shot a few moments later.
"You missed," said Dan.
Barns frowned and tugged on his beard. "It ain't easy. You do it."
"Fine." Dan picked out a zombie and sighted in; he took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. A zombie three feet behind the one he was aiming at fell as it was struck in the head with his bullet.
"Nailed it," Dan said, ignoring the fact that he had in fact missed.
Barns licked his lips and began aiming again; three shots later he finally got one.
"Dis be way harder den just using duh baseball bat," he said, scratching the side of his head with the barrel of the gun.
Dan reached out and gently pointed his gun in a safer direction.
"I know what you mean, Barns, I don't think we have the right guns for the job. Let’s save our bullets until the zombies get a little closer."
Zoey must have come to a similar conclusion. She was standing back in the street, also not firing her weapon.
A half hour passed, the guardsmen never tired; nor did the zombies. They just kept coming and coming. At some point shortly after noon the zombies began to gain ground.
Dan first realized what was happening whe
n one of the zombies successfully stumbled past a post office drop box on the sidewalk. The drop box was within fifteen feet of the barricade and no other zombie had made it that far.
A minute later another zombie made it as far as the drop box, a third one made it shortly after that. It was not long before the drop box became the new marker for where all the zombies fell.
Once the zombies started to reach the ten foot mark, Dan and Barns began shooting again. Dan missed some, Barns missed more. Luckily any missed shot were still at head level and would yield good results anyway.
"We are running out of ammo!" one of the guardsmen yelled.
Dan dropped his empty clip and loaded a fresh one. Barns fired a few more shots and did the same.
"We can't keep this up," said another guardsman.
The guardsman Dan thought was in charge took a break from shooting to look at the two others. "We are not going to be the first platoon to fall back, you got that?"
"Yes sir," the two men said in unison.
There were thirteen of them in total; they worked with a methodic cool in the face of such a massive threat. Dan and Barns on the other hand fired frantically and somewhat blindly.
Dan fired a shot and the chamber stayed cocked back. A bit of anger flared through him; he was out of bullets.
He wasn't the only one. Barns and two guardsmen also ran out with in the span of a minute.
The zombies reached the edge of the barricade and began to climb over, the first few getting tangled in the barbed wire.
Dan watched as the man he thought was the leader ran out of bullets. He expected the guy to yell for them to fall back, instead he whipped out a knife and brought it down through the skull of a zombie crawling over the barricade. He then sheathed the knife and pulled out a pistol that he continued to fire into the oncoming zombies.
That was when a walkie-talkie clipped to the guy’s belt began going off.
