Rapture (Apocalypse Gates Author's Cut Book 1)

by Daniel Schinhofen

  “I was sent to help as many people get out as I could, while killing as many of these things as I can,” Alvin replied.

  Bill glanced back briefly, “Government?”

  “Nope. Please, do you think they care about a random hospital?”

  A snort of laughter came from Bill, “Good point, son. What’s your name?”

  “Call me Al. I was sent for reasons that wouldn’t make one bit of sense to you, sir. I have four hours to complete my objective then I will be gone just as if I never existed.”

  “A special mission from a mysterious source, eh?” Bill gave another bark of laughter before pulping another skull. “You gonna say that you vanish in a flash of brilliant light next?”

  “Hadn’t planned on it, but that is what actually happens,” Alvin replied with a puzzled expression.

  “So, you’re a trouble shooter from points unknown, sent by persons unknown to help those of us fighting the undead hordes?”

  “When you put it that way it makes me sound like I’m on a mission from God,” Alvin objected.

  “Could be son, could be. Now why don’t you step up for a second and let me rest my arms. Haven’t had to kill this many people for years.”

  Alvin wondered at Bill’s references to the Vietnam war. “What was your position during the war?” Alvin asked as he slid forward and killed the next zombie.

  “You need to work on your muscles, son. You’re just barely breaking them skulls. I was a tunnel rat. Surprised when I made it out alive.”

  “Tunnel rat?” Alvin asked.

  “I was the guy in my platoon that would be sent into the tunnels first. Hand gun in each hand and two knives on my waist. Highest mortality position during the war. You have to be a little cracked to do what I did. Follow through, swing through the skull, not to the skull.”

  Alvin winced as he felt his back muscles twinge during a swing. “Doing the best I can. I had to carry a large woman a few missions back and wrenched my back something fierce.”

  Bill laughed hard, “Just like the current generation, blaming someone else for their woes today. I’ve got more shrapnel in me than you have years of life and you don’t hear me bitching about it.”

  Grunting, Alvin killed the next one then slipped in a pool of blood from his previous kills and fell flat to the floor. His back spasmed again, “Fuck.”

  Laughing, Bill went by him with a wide grin, “Mind your feet, boy. You’d have been the guy to find the landmine the wrong way.”

  Picking himself up, Alvin followed after Bill, impressed by the way he was still casually killing the zombies. “So, you killed lots of people in close combat during the war?”

  “Knives, pistols and bare hands were most of my kills,” Bill replied easily. “This seems a touch easy, doesn’t it?”

  “Maybe the harder ones haven’t shown up yet,” Alvin muttered.

  “Well, I could use me a real challenge. Go find me one, will you?” Bill said as he killed the last zombie in the hall. The bat snapped in half as the zombie’s skull caved in, “Huh, broke your bat. Sorry ‘bout that.”

  “No worries. I have another one here,” Alvin replied. “Up to checking the closed doors before we go?”

  Bill thought about it then grabbed an IV stand and gave it a test swing, “Sure thing.”

  The rooms with closed doors on this floor contained people huddled in fear. Alvin tried to tell them it was safe to flee, but most wouldn’t listen to the blood-stained guy with the bloody bat. It took Bill hauling them to their feet and yelling at them to get them running.

  “Fucking pansies,” Bill spat as they went back to his room. “They’re all so much fodder for those things.”

  “Probably,” Alvin admitted, but glad he was probably getting stupid XP right now. “You grabbing your daughter and heading out, Bill?”

  “Yeah. I’d love to stay and play some more but she is a touch protective, as you saw. You’re welcome to come with. Young man like yourself could be useful, so long as you mind yourself around my daughter.”

  Alvin had his mouth open to reply when Bill opened the door to his room. His daughter stood facing the door, holding an IV stand ready to swing. She dropped the makeshift weapon and flung herself into her father’s arms. “Dad, are you okay? Did they bite you? All the movies say if you get bit you turn into one of them.” She stumbled over the words in her haste, looking her father over for wounds while trying to hug him to death.

  “Now, now Susan, calm yourself. I’m fine, I didn’t get bit by those slow sad things. Al here was right helpful in keeping me safe. Tell her it’s okay, Al,” Bill said, looking at Alvin over his daughter’s head with commanding eyes.

  “Susan, Bill is fine. I probably wouldn’t have made it without his help. He’s a hero.”

  Bill snorted at that, “I ain’t no hero. Anyway, got to get my clothes on so we can go. Thanks for the rodeo, Al, and good luck with your mission.”

  Susan reluctantly let go of her dad as he started to get dressed. She turned to Alvin studying him for a moment, then extended her hand to him. “Thank you for keeping him safe, Al. My father means the world to me. He’s the only family I’ve ever had.”

  Alvin took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before releasing it and meeting her eyes. “It was an honor to serve even briefly next to your father, miss.”

  He did take the chance to give her a quick once over. A pretty auburn haired, green eyed, farm girl. Tight jeans along with cowboy boots, accenting the flannel shirt that did nothing to hide her impressive chest.

  Susan frowned slightly, “You’re staying?”

  “Have to,” Alvin checked the interface timer, “for another two hours and fifty minutes.”

  “He’s on a mission, dear, leave him be. All men have to do what they have been ordered to do.” Bill added as he stepped up next to his daughter, fully dressed. His button-down flannel and jeans, along with the boots and hat screamed country, just like his daughter. “Hope you make it out alive, son. If worst comes to worst, finish the mission, even if it means you can’t save them all.”

  Alvin nodded as he traded a handshake with Bill, wincing as the large paw crushed his hand easily. “Will do, sir. I hope you and Susan make it out of the city safely, and make it to your cabin.”

  “Once I get to the truck things will be fine,” Bill grinned. “Had to leave my guns in the car, damn liberal pussies have a no gun policy in hospitals.”

  “Guns?” Alvin asked, suddenly focused. “Could I perhaps get a loaner?”

  Bill laughed as he clapped Alvin on the back hard enough to make him slide a few inches. “If you can help get Susan to the car uninjured I’ll give you one. Now let’s go, shall we?”

  “One sec, please,” Alvin said, stepping into the attached bathroom to take a leak. As he washed his hands he wished he had brought the ibuprofen. “After you then, sir. Susan, if you’ll follow him, I’ll be tail end Charlie.”

  Bill grunted, “Dangerous position to be. Okay, we’re going.”

  The trio went to the stairs. There were muffled thumps and screams coming from higher up. Bill didn’t hesitate, but started down to the ground floor. Susan paused, but Alvin gave her a small tap. She glanced back with a frown but hurried after her father. Alvin met her frown with a blank expression, then followed after her. The hallway on the ground floor was empty, but groans could be heard from the dining area. None of them waited, rushing out the door and into the parking lot. A handful of zombies were wandering around, so Alvin took a few fast steps to catch up to Bill.

  “I’ll take care of them, if you give me rough directions to your car,” Alvin said as he stepped up past Bill.

  “The old camo painted truck off to the back left of the lot is mine. The one with the tool chest mounted in the back,” Bill clarified as if the only camo painted truck could be mistaken for something else.

  Alvin spotted it and headed that way, taking the few paces out of the way to kill the few zombies between them and the late 60’s
GMC truck with the toolbox welded to the back. It didn’t take them long reach the truck. Bill unlocked the passenger door, opening it for Susan who hopped in. Alvin idly wished he could have gone with them as Susan’s denim clad ass was pretty nice. He tore his eyes away as the door closed and Bill went to the tool chest, unlocking a panel.

  Alvin let out an impressed whistle as he saw the number of firearms in the chest. “Good gods, were you expecting an apocalypse?”

  “Always be prepared,” Bill replied calmly as he pulled out a 1911 with a fully loaded clip. He handed it to Alvin with the belt holster, then pulled out three more loaded clips. “Here you go, son. Best of luck and may God look down on you with favor.” He pulled out a few more guns, handing them to his daughter through the truck window. She laid each of them out on the seat and started checking them.

  Alvin placed the gun and the holster briefly into his fanny pack before withdrawing it and clipping it to his belt. He placed each of the clips into the pack, then into his pockets. “Thank you, Bill. This will make things so much easier. I wish you the best of luck as well.”

  Bill grunted, “Luck you make for yourself, son. Only God knows when he will call you home.” Bill went around the large truck, his daughter unlocking the door for him. A moment later the diesel engine was rumbling than the truck was in motion.

  Alvin caught Susan looking back at him with a puzzled expression, so he gave her a goodbye wave before heading back into the building. Maybe he could save a nurse or doctor before the time limit ran out. Either of those would be useful come World Mode. Alvin pulled the gun, taking a moment to familiarize himself with it. “Okay. Let’s see if a gun makes a big difference.”

  Once he was back inside Alvin checked the clock. He still had almost two and a half hours left. He paused in the main entry area. He could still hear the groans of zombies from the cafeteria, but he went for the stairs instead. He could hear muffled bumps as if a zombie was walking into the door without knowing it was a door. Ignoring it for now, Alvin climbed to the third floor and quietly opened the door, listening carefully. The only sounds were those made by zombies as they shuffled aimlessly around. He closed the door gently and went up to the fourth floor.

  He could hear the groans of zombies but they sounded muffled. He could also hear voices, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Pushing the door open slowly, Alvin stepped quietly onto the floor and tried to figure out which way he should go. The groans were coming from his left, so he went right. The voices got a bit louder, but he still couldn’t make out the words. He walked down the hall, passing a few bodies that had their skulls broken open.

  The furthest door was closed and the voices were behind it. Alvin gently tapped a ‘shave and a haircut’ on the door, which instantly stopped the voices. A few seconds later a double tap came from inside, “Living?” Came the question from behind the door.

  “Living, the way is clear to the lobby and out the main doors. Just move quietly. Third floor is fucked as is the basement, but second floor is clear.”

  The door cracked open, revealing a bald white guy holding a metal strut that was bent and bloody. The orderly eyed him for a second then frowned deeply at the gun, “This is a no gun building.”

  Alvin sighed and gave the orderly a look that all but asked if the man was stupid. “You’re seriously going to chastise me about a handgun, while zombies eat your patients? Is there anyone with brains in this room, or is it just you?”

  “You motherfucker,” the orderly hissed, opening the door wider and raising his weapon.

  Alvin cocked the hammer as he pointed the gun right at the man’s face, “If your shoulder twitches I will pull the trigger. Want to see if your arm or my finger is quicker?”

  “Enough,” hissed a voice from behind the orderly. “If the way is clear we should go now. If you will back away from the door, we just want out.”

  Alvin’s eyes didn’t waver from the orderly, “Have the ape back up and hand the strut off to one of you, then you can all run.”

  Alvin watched a man with Persian ancestry move up, taking the strut before pulling the orderly back from the door. Alvin backed away, lowering his weapon but didn’t uncock the gun, “The way is clear. Good luck, because the world is fucked.”

  The man who had taken the strut had a doctor’s badge on his coat, “I figured. Are you staying?”

  “For another hour plus. Need to see if anyone else is alive,” Alvin replied, backing up to set his back to the wall at the end of the hall. “There might be more people holed up like you.”

  “We locked all the rooms on this floor, we didn’t hear anyone asking for help. Goodbye,” the doctor walked out of the room, followed by the glaring orderly and three nurses.

  Alvin watched the nurses go, all three looked at him with varying degrees of disgust, probably for backing the orderly down. Lips twisted in slight distaste, Alvin waited for them to go before he followed them down the hall. He opted to avoid the rest of the floor and went up to the top floor instead. As he opened the door to the fifth floor, he found carpet instead of the normal hard floor.

  Off to his right, near the elevator was a single door marked Human Resources. He went left, where a number of doors opened into the hallway. The offices each consisted of a smaller front room and much larger office. They were all open and deserted, though he could now hear voices from further down the hall. A feminine scream, cut off abruptly, sounded from the far door. Alvin might have missed it if he hadn’t been as close as he was, so he skipped to the door at the end of the hall. Hospital Director, Marcus Fatale, the sign on the door proclaimed. The front office was a mess, as if there had been a fight. The inner office door was ajar and he could hear a single voice beyond it.

  “You fucking bitch, I’ll kill you myself! You think that I care what happens to me now?! I’ll fuck you, kill you, then give your body over the things downstairs,” the man raved. A mad giggle bubbled from the man’s lips. “Then I’ll join you in hell.”

  Alvin shoved the door open, to see a man in a suit, his pants around his ankles, leaning over a woman on the desk. His hands clamped around her throat as she feebly struggled against his arms. The strangler looked up as Alvin took two quick steps into the room. As the man opened his mouth to speak, Alvin closed the distance with the gun up. He fired two rounds through the man’s head in rapid succession. Blood and brains blossomed out the back of the man’s skull, spraying the window behind him.

  Alvin swallowed as he felt his gorge rise. He hadn’t killed a living person during this madness, until now. His hands shook slightly as he took in the gruesome tableau before him. The dead body had collapsed onto the woman, blood and brain from the head wounds dripping down onto her. He set the safety on his pistol and holstered it, then went to move the corpse. He shoved the dead body off the woman as she stirred weakly, her eyes fluttering open.

  Alvin stepped back quickly, pulling the gun just in case she tried to attack him. He watched the woman blink as her hands came up to her neck. Her faced blanched in horror as her hands encountered the bloody gore plastered across her front.

  “You okay?” Alvin asked, his voice dead calm, concealing his minor distress that he had just killed a man. Her eyes shifted to him with gun in hand standing back from the desk and she started to hyperventilate. Alvin stepped back from her again, “Look, your boss was killing you when I got here. He’s dead. Are you okay?”

  Her voice was shaky and hoarse, “You killed him?”

  “Well, he was strangling you and talking about rape, so it seemed like the thing to do,” Alvin replied as he looked away from her and the body by her feet. “Just don’t look down, his body doesn’t look pretty.”

  The secretary slid off the desk to the side, bracing herself against it as she kept her eyes on him. “Are you going to kill me next?” she tugged her skirt down as she asked the question.

  “Wasn’t planning on it. I’m trying to save as many people as I can. The rest of the floor seems empty, so you
should be able to make it to the stairs and down. Just be careful, the third floor and basement are overrun with zombies. What were you still doing up here?”

  She briefly glanced at her boss’s dead body before turning away, obviously sickened at the sight. “Trying to get my stuff to flee. Marcus wouldn’t let me go. We argued before he dragged me in here and demanded that I stay with him. I fought him, but he overpowered me and...” She lightly touched her bruised neck, which was still covered in blood. She took a breath before she continued, “Thank you. Are you going to let me leave?”

  “You are free to go,” Alvin told her as he stepped clear of the door and holstered the firearm. “Just be careful. If you give me a few minutes I’ll go with you to make sure you make it. I just want to rummage through the offices for anything useful.”

  “What do you want?” she asked as he walked over to the body. She moved away as he approached, obviously still wary.