Serial Killer Z: Shadows

by Philip Harris

  “Where are we going?” I said.

  “The tunnels.”

  Chapter 32

  Yaletown

  Yaletown Station was boarded up. Graffiti-covered sheets of plywood were bolted over the entrance, cutting off all access apart from a single door that was secured by a heavy metal chain and padlock.

  Ignoring the door, Jon led me past the station and down the narrow street that ran alongside it. We stopped near a row of empty bicycle racks. A rectangular metal grille was set in the road.

  “This will get us down to the concourse,” Jon said.

  The grille wasn’t locked, but it was heavy. Together, we pulled it open, revealing a ladder leading down into the darkness.

  Jon flicked on the flashlights, gave me one, then began climbing down the ladder. I let him get a few feet ahead, then followed the wavering beam of his flashlight down into the station.

  The shaft opened up on the first level of the concourse. I’d ridden the SkyTrain many times, but the Yaletown Station was a ghost of its former self. The ticket machines had been vandalized, one of them even ripped from the wall. The gates had been torn from the ticket barriers. There were dozens of slogans spray painted across the wall along with a few artfully rendered scenes depicting zombies performing all manner of unspeakable acts with scantily clad women. The air smelled of urine and worse.

  The platforms themselves had fared no better. The graffiti was less artistic but no less ubiquitous. Broken tiles, twisted pieces of metal and exposed wiring showed where equipment attached to the walls had been pulled down. A few pieces of that equipment were strewn across the platform. The rest was missing.

  Jon hopped down onto the tracks. Instinctively, I tensed, expecting him to be electrocuted or at the very least set off some sort of alarm. Nothing happened.

  I joined him and we walked east. The path was mostly clear, just a few bits of broken concrete. The tracks were covered in dust and clearly unused, but both of us kept away from them anyway. The air was dusty and dry, tainted with the smell of rot.

  This line led, eventually, to the airport. I had no experience flying aircraft, but that didn’t prevent me from picturing myself making an escape in a Cessna.

  “Can I get to the airport along here?” I said.

  Jon gave me a dubious look. “I doubt it. That’s a long way. I’d get back up to ground level as soon as you can if I was you. Better line of sight and easier to find cover if you need it.”

  The tracks dropped down, diving deeper beneath the streets, ready to pass underneath False Creek. Eventually the line would break out of the earth and the SkyTrain would start to earn its name, but for now it was more like London’s Underground.

  Jon’s flashlight glinted off something metallic farther along the tracks: a train. I directed my light down the tunnel. A barrier made of several dozen concrete blocks had been erected about a hundred feet from the station, and the train was just beyond it. The barrier was about twenty feet high, but as at Faraday’s camp, platforms had been attached to the top to give defenders a place to stand. A ladder provided access.

  More blocks were stacked along the side of the tunnel, along with pickaxes, shovels, bags of cement, and some metal boxes with labels warning of the dangerous nature of the explosives inside. The boxes were small, and, for a few seconds, I considered grabbing one and taking it with me for defensive purposes. I decided I was more likely to blow myself up and walked on past.

  “Why not seal off the tunnel completely?” I said.

  “They say it’s to give us a way out, in an emergency.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  Jon shrugged. “I don’t really care.”

  We reached the barrier. Jon climbed up the ladder first. I shone my flashlight down the tunnel, but the train blocked most of the view. There was no way to climb down the other side, but it wasn’t too far to jump.

  Jon held out his hand. “This is where I leave you.”

  “Thank you,” I said, shaking his hand.

  The clatter of stone on metal echoed down the tunnel. A low-pitched moan followed a few seconds later.

  I found the zombie easily enough. It was a woman in a dirty, floral-print dress. She walked with an uneven gait, not through any injury, but because one of her shoes was missing. The one remaining had a long, pointed heel. The woman saw me, moaned, and tottered along the tracks toward the barrier. The sight didn’t bother me too much. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d been in an enclosed space with the dead.

  I turned to speak to Jon, and as I did, my light caught movement. Another zombie. This one was naked, and its entire body was a mass of torn and rotted flesh. I had no idea whether it had been male or female.

  More groaning—at least four distinct voices. Feet shuffled over concrete. This was beginning to look less like a good idea.

  “Damn, maybe ther—”

  Jon shoved me hard in the back. I fell forward. My legs clipped the barrier. I grabbed the edge to stop myself tumbling over the side. I turned as Jon slammed his fist into my face, rocking my head back. Blood filled my mouth. Jon grabbed my shoulders and pushed. I held him off for a moment, then he threw his bodyweight against me. I tipped back and tumbled off the barrier.

  Chapter 33

  The Tunnel

  I landed on my shoulder.

  Then my head.

  The back of my skull cracked against concrete.

  The world dimmed.

  Fighting to stay conscious, I rolled sideways and managed to get my feet under me. The world shifted and spun. The part of my mind that hadn’t been scrambled when I hit the ground knew there were zombies out there somewhere. I could hear their eager moans and the shuffling of feet, but I’d dropped my flashlight. It was lying between the tracks casting a beam of light down the center of the tunnel, illuminating the train and the zombie in the solitary high-heeled shoe. She took one uneven step and kicked the flashlight. It spun wildly, sending shadows dancing across the walls.

  The stench of decay grew stronger. A groan came from far too close. On instinct, I dodged right. My legs revolted against the sudden movement. I staggered then tripped over one of the rails and went down again. I managed to get my hands out in front of me. Concrete tore the skin from my palms.

  Light flickered across me. It was Jon, up on the barrier. Shielding my eyes from the beam of his flashlight, I pushed myself to my feet again. The world swam, and I had to lean against the wall to prevent myself from falling over.

  I caught a brief glimpse of the naked zombie. I still had the machete but my left arm was numb from my awkward landing. I switched the weapon into my right hand.

  A bitter stench rolled over me. The naked zombie reared up, little more than a dim outline in the gloom. I brought the machete down on top of its head. Its skull split like a rotten fruit, and the blade sank almost to its neck. The zombie crumpled to the ground, limbs flailing.

  I grabbed my flashlight. The sudden movement set the world spinning again. My stomach twisted, and I almost threw up. A shape moved off to my left. It was the one shoe woman. I slashed the machete across her throat. It wasn’t enough to take her down, but she staggered, leaving herself open. I drove the machete into the side of her head. There was more resistance than from the naked man’s rotten skull, but the weapon still embedded itself in her head. I yanked it free and backed away until I was pressed up against the concrete barrier. Blood poured down the woman’s face. She took two uncertain steps toward me then collapsed.

  I swept the flashlight around the tunnel. The train blocked most of my view. I couldn’t see any more zombies, but I could hear them. Their droning echoed off the tunnel walls, making it impossible for me to work out where it was coming from or how many zombies there were. My head was pounding. When I touched the back of my skull, my fingers came away slick with blood.

  The side of the barrier was rough. There might be enough footholds for me to climb up, but was there time? I’d be defenseless while I climbed, and it
didn’t take much of an imagination to picture the zombies grabbing me on the way up.

  I turned my attention back to the tunnel. Something moved inside the train. When I focused the flashlight on it, I saw another zombie. It was pressed against the blood-smeared window, trying to get at me. It wasn’t a threat, but I could hear the moans of another zombie coming closer. I swept the flashlight left and right, desperately searching for the source of the sound, but the tunnel appeared empty.

  A metal can clattered across the floor, and I realized my mistake. I pointed the flashlight toward the ground. A third zombie, this one a young boy, was dragging itself along the trench between the tracks. One of its legs had been torn off at the knee; the other was broken. Pale bone protruded from its thigh.

  I dodged back out of the zombie’s reach. It tipped its head back and let out a baleful moan until I drove the machete, point first, into the top of its skull. I pulled the weapon free and stood, listening. There was a dull thump as the zombie inside the train smacked its head against the window, but that was all.

  Jon was no longer standing on top of the barrier. He’d probably left as soon as he’d seen the zombies were coming for me. Either he assumed they’d get me, or he thought I wouldn’t be able to climb back up the barrier.

  His betrayal gnawed at me. I’d been stupid. It had been obvious he didn’t like me from the moment we’d first met. Why had I believed he’d wanted to help me? His real motives weren’t clear, but I suspected it was simple jealousy. He’d told me how much he cared for Cali. It wasn’t a great leap of logic to see that he had feelings for her. Cali’s reaction to my accusation had probably been real. She almost certainly hadn’t set the zombie on me. It had been Jon. Part of me, a significant part, wanted to confront him, to take the machete he’d given me and drive it into his brain just the way I had the zombies.

  Going back to the city to find him made sense in other ways, too. Even without Cali’s apartment, I was safer there than wandering among the dead. There was no telling what state the other cities were in. This could be the only safe zone for thousands of miles.

  Logically, going back was the right thing to do, but it felt like a step backward. I patted my jacket pocket. I still had the scalpels, even if I’d lost the desire to use them. The anger at Jon would fade. His behavior would eventually become just another episode in my life, one more example of how I was better off on my own.

  I checked the tunnel one more time. Almost convinced it was safe, I made my way carefully along the side of the train, making sure to point the flashlight down as well as from side to side. The zombie inside the train threw itself against the window as I passed. A fresh patch of dark blood spattered the glass.

  The tracks were dotted with blood. I passed the rest of the boy’s leg. There was a backpack, too, but it was empty apart from a couple of battered paperbacks and an empty plastic water bottle. I threw the pack aside and continued along the tracks as they sloped downward.

  About halfway past the train, I came across two more zombies. They were dead. Really dead. The first corpse’s skull had been caved in using a concrete block. The second had been shot in the face. The back of its head was a bloody mass of brain and splintered bone.

  I saw two more zombies inside the train. One was a rent-a-cop, the other a businessman in what had probably been an expensive suit. Blood was splashed liberally across the inside of the carriages. I wondered how many more corpses were inside that I couldn’t see.

  When I reached the end of the train, I slowed. The track curved to the right, disappearing out of sight. I checked underneath the carriages then cautiously continued along the tunnel.

  The dense air was heavy with the familiar smell of the dead. In places, water dripped from the ceiling and formed pools on the concrete floor. This part of the tunnel had been built beneath the inlet, and I became intensely aware that I was walking beneath millions of gallons of water that might come crashing down on me at any second. Claustrophobia crept up my spine and wrapped itself around my throat. I picked up my pace.

  As the tunnel curved, it began to open up. The ceilings grew higher. Cabling and metal conduits ran along the walls. I passed a couple of doors set into the tunnel wall and several ladders leading upward to hatches in the ceiling—maintenance access that might lead to the surface—but I ignored them.

  The next station wasn’t far. Maybe a twenty-minute walk if I kept my pace up. It would bring me out just beyond the Cambie Bridge, and that might put me too close to Faraday’s snipers. The station beyond that wasn’t much farther. If the way was clear, I’d continue on and make sure I was out of sight of the guards when I surfaced.

  A drop of freezing cold water landed on my neck. I stopped and pointed the flashlight up at the ceiling. A crack zigzagged across the entire width of the tunnel. Here and there, drops of water formed, then fell to the ground. My claustrophobia increased.

  I took a deep breath. The smell of death filled my nose. I’d grown accustomed to the odor of rotting flesh over the months, but the stench in the tunnel had suddenly grown so strong that I gagged. I pointed the flashlight down the tunnel, hoping for some sign that I was nearing the platform.

  Ice rushed down my spine as the light glinted off a hundred pairs of black, soulless eyes.

  Chapter 34

  Swarmed

  I flicked off the flashlight and froze, taking shallow breaths through my mouth. The moaning started quietly but grew steadily louder. Within seconds, a low buzzing sound filled the tunnel, like a thousand angry bees rudely awakened from their slumber. A shuffling sound joined the chorus of bees, and I turned and ran.

  There was no point in trying to hide, so I turned the flashlight back on. The moaning echoed around me, foreshadowing the tsunami of ravenous dead sweeping down the tunnel at my back.

  I fought against my growing panic. I couldn’t move quickly, there were too many opportunities to trip or twist my ankle, but most of the zombies I’d met were slow enough to outrun. The few that were fast would face the same obstacles I did, and they wouldn’t have the intelligence to avoid them. I thought of the image of Monstro kneeling on the floor, waiting for Falcon to leave himself exposed, and ran faster. Even if they did have some modicum of intelligence, they wouldn’t be able to see in the dark. At least, I didn’t think they would.

  The tunnel narrowed, and I was forced to move into the center of the tracks. It was even harder to run there. When I reached a relatively clear patch, I pointed the flashlight down the tunnel ahead of me and saw the glint of light on metal. The train.

  The concrete barrier would be just beyond. Distracted, I landed on a broken chunk of concrete, and my ankle twisted inward. A sharp pain shot up my leg. I stumbled and almost fell but managed to recover. I hobbled a few paces until the pain subsided, then pushed on. I didn’t dare look back.

  I was about thirty feet from the front of the train when there was the thump of an explosion. Fire and light filled the tunnel, illuminating the train and the supplies lined up against the walls. A wave of dust and smoke rolled toward me.

  Sliding to a halt, I ducked my head and pressed my face into the crook of my arm. The smell of burning metal and plastic caught in my throat and set my eyes watering. I wiped my eyes and peered down the tunnel. The thick haze of dust hanging in the air made the flashlight all but useless. The faint glow of a couple of small fires and a disturbing, flickering orange light came from near the back of the train. I looked for a maintenance ladder to take me to the surface, but couldn’t see one. My ears were ringing from the blast. It drowned out the sound of the zombies behind me, but I knew they were there.

  I made my way toward, then past, the train. I caught a glimpse of the zombies inside, still tracking my movements. The air was growing denser, and I realized it was no longer dust. Acrid black smoke was drifting from the back of the train. I pressed my face harder against my arm and wondered whether I’d suffocate before the dead caught up with me.

  The blast had been located some
where near the barrier. The rear of the train was a twisted mass of metal. Orange flames licked at the glass, and the heat from the fire warmed my face. Coughing and barely able to see thanks to my streaming eyes and the smoke, I pressed myself against the side of the tunnel and slid past the wreckage.

  The barrier had been reduced to a scorched mound of rubble. Broken pieces of concrete block littered the floor and part of the ceiling had caved in, creating a natural ramp. I’d have to climb over the mound of concrete and earth to get out, but it would be easier than trying to scale the barrier. The ringing in my ears had faded and the zombies’ insistent droning was audible even over the crackle of the fire inside the train.

  I clambered over the rubble. It shifted beneath me, and I ended up crawling on hands and knees, feeling my way across. Razor-sharp shards of metal protruded from the concrete. Twice I almost sliced my wrist open.

  There was a harsh crack, and a few seconds later another explosion somewhere behind me. I ducked. Heat washed over me. Fragments of metal and glass peppered the slope and bounced off my back.

  As I began moving again, the block beneath my right hand gave way. My arm disappeared into a hole. I fell forward and cracked my forehead on a concrete block. My teeth clacked together and I tasted blood. The machete almost slipped from my grip. Rough concrete scraped skin from my wrist as I pulled my arm free.

  Then the entire right side of the debris pile collapsed, disappearing into a hole in the ground. I felt the rubble beneath me shift again and threw myself forward. I tumbled down the slope. My shoulder slammed into the metal track. This time the machete did slip from my grasp. I lay there, my shoulder pulsing with agony.

  Part of me wanted to give up, to end this pointless existence. The rest reminded me that there were dozens of zombies out there in the tunnel, and they’d be on me in seconds. Arm still wreathed in agony, I forced myself to my feet and climbed up to the top of the pile of rubble.