by T. W. Brown
As Sean yanked open the door, he only had a second to react as a pair of dead hands came for him. He stumbled and landed hard on his back. The zombie on top of him actually bounced once before it came to rest on him, staring down into his face with eyes that held no emotion.
The mouth opened and he threw up a hand defensively. Sean screamed in pain as teeth clamped down and bone crunched. He had removed his gloves when he had started to grope Deanna. He thought the gesture a gallant one. He had been considerate enough to not reach up her shirt with a worn and filthy glove. And what had that gotten him?
“Sean!” Deanna shrieked as she rushed in and grabbed the zombie by the shoulders. It came off, but it took two of Sean’s fingers with it.
“It got me!” Sean wailed. He was no longer tough; he was no longer in control; he was no longer the kid who had been destined to be a hardened criminal by eighteen. Now, he was simply a frightened boy.
Deanna pulled Sean to his feet and looked up to find more zombies filling the doorway opening to the stairs that were their only chance of escape. Of course Sean’s only chance had dwindled to whether or not he would prove to be immune from the bite—he wasn’t.
Deanna shoved the first zombie back and it toppled the two behind it in a twisted parody of dominoes. She did not wait or allow for their chance to evaporate. Deanna pulled Sean with her and up the stairs they went.
The zombies had not made it this far yet but she could hear noise from behind the door that would open to the fourth floor, Still, they made it to the fifth without any more trouble. Unfortunately, they would now have to climb the metal ladder that led to the square in the roof.
With no certainty that the hatch would actually lead to the roof, Deanna went first and cried in frustration when she discovered that the hatch was locked.
10
Geek on the Run
“You have to keep your eyes shut and not move,” the voice whispered, lips so close to his ear that it tickled and he could feel the heat from the breath of the speaker. “If you understand me, I want you to make a fist with your right hand.”
Kevin made a fist. He was still not sure what was happening. His last memories were fuzzy and disjointed. He was trying to get a grasp on them, but they shot away like a wet watermelon seed between his fingers anytime he tried to think too hard.
“You need to listen and not react. That is going to be difficult, but I promise you that your life and that of your friends may well depend on you doing nothing,” the voice said.
That all seemed so important and ominous to Kevin. He thought he could remember a little about…
Aleah!
He shivered as the jolt of recollection hit. A firm hand gripped his arm and the voice came again with renewed urgency.
“If you try to sit up or move, I won’t be able to help you. That means that you won’t be able to help your friends, and I am guessing that by the end of today, you may never see any of them again. Clench your fist again if you understand.”
Kevin clenched his fist, but it was with more than just simple understanding. He felt his anger growing as the events of his last memories came back. The trickle was slow at first, but it turned to a flood as he lay there in impotent helplessness.
“First, let me assure you that, last I saw, that girl Heather was fine. They have her confined in a wing that is sort of isolated from any of the rest of the population…which they have confined at the moment under some bullshit excuse. As for the other two, the names escape me, but they were led out of the compound. There is a place where any who are excluded get sent to, and I know where that is.”
Kevin was hearing the words, but they were not exactly making sense at the moment. He knew he would be upset as soon as he could get his brain to come out of the fog, but for the time being he would have to settle for confused.
“W-why…” he tried to ask, but a hand covered his mouth immediately.
“No talking. You will get us both killed.”
Kevin felt the hand move away slowly. He tried to crack his eyes open to slits in order to get a look at this person, but the brightness was too much and he squeezed them shut.
“Now listen up, and keep still,” the female voice resumed after a few seconds of silence. “The powers that be in this place have gone off the deep end. I am responsible for some of it, but we don’t have time to get into that now. What you need to know is that I want to help get you out of here. There are about fifty of us that have been ready to leave for quite a while, but fifty against a few thousand would be suicide. Now that paranoia has gripped the council, we have our window. It may never open again.
“You were the last straw so to speak. What they are doing is wrong on any level…no matter the excuses being given. Now, if I don’t end up getting us all killed, I am going to do my best to make things right…at least as much as I am able. Stay as still as you can for just a few more minutes.”
Kevin felt something loosen around his waist. Remaining still was harder than he anticipated as the sudden urge to simply get up and bolt came in a rush.
“Doctor Billings, could you come here for a minute please, something seems odd with the chart on Mister Dreon,” the female voice spoke out.
“Odd in what way, Dr. Reno?” a male voice that sounded like it belonged to a very elderly man replied.
Kevin heard the sound of a distant chair being scooted and then the click-clack of hard-soled shoes on tile. He did his best to simply remain still, but as the events that had led to him being in this situation began to color themselves in, he struggled not to act.
“What the—” Dr. Billings’ voice started in alarm, but was quickly muffled.
“I never did like you, you prick,” Dr. Reno hissed.
“Okay, Kevin…can you open your eyes?”
Kevin complied, discovering that the blinding light was only a minor discomfort compared with his last attempt. He still could not see much more than dark and blurry images, but now he was contending with acute nausea. Sitting up, Kevin promptly turned his head to the side and vomited an opaque, watery bile.
Slowly, a figure came into focus. The woman reminded him of the stereotypical soccer mom. Her hair was cut in a short bob, she showed a few laugh lines and just a wisp of gray cut a path through her light brown hair. Her eyes were brown and a few crows’ feet had taken perch at the corners. Her nose was just slightly upturned and her thin lips were just somewhat curved in a perpetual smile.
“I’m being rescued by June Cleaver,” Kevin muttered to himself.
“What was that?” Dr. Reno leaned close.
“Nothing.”
Kevin waved a hand in dismissal and tried to sit up. The room only spun a little bit. He was not at all surprised when the woman handed him a set of fatigues, gloves, and a helmet with a riot faceguard.
The entire time he dressed, the doctor paced from him to the door. She kept urging him to go faster, but Kevin was still not fully clear of the fog from whatever drugs had kept him knocked out and in the induced coma. At last he cinched the final boot lace and stood, ready to go.
“Okay…now what?” Kevin asked as he stepped over the sprawled figure of the man he’d heard addressed as Dr. Billings.
“We have to make for the dorm where the rest of those who will be leaving with us are waiting.” Dr. Reno turned to face Kevin with a grim expression. “That is where I am afraid I will require you to do some rather unsavory things.”
“Like kill somebody?”
“Exactly.”
“Then let’s get moving.” Kevin was surprised at how matter-of-fact he made his voice sound. The reality of what was going on in his head was a different matter entirely.
While he certainly had no love for his captors, he still felt a bit squeamish about taking the lives of living beings. It just seemed so wrong given that the living-to-undead ratio was so slanted. However, he was also a very pragmatic person and understood very well what needed to be done.
“So, what do I call you?�
�� Kevin asked as he stepped up beside the doctor who was peering through the shutters and out to the hallway beyond.
“Doctor Miriam Reno is what used to hang on my door,” the woman said absently. “But seriously, I don’t think titles mean squat anymore…so Miriam will do just fine.”
“But you’re a doctor,” Kevin said with obvious admiration in his voice. “I’d say that makes you worth your weight in gold?”
“You making cracks about my weight?” Miriam’s voice was stern. She glanced over her shoulder at Kevin with lips pressed tight, but a second later they curved up into a smile. “Relax, Kevin, I crack jokes when I’m nervous…and they usually aren’t very funny. You’ll get used to it.”
“I bet you were a hoot the first few weeks of the zombie apocalypse,” Kevin snarked.
They moved out into the hallway and headed for the doors that led outside. The warm glow of sunlight coming through the windows on those doors made their own part of the hall look that much darker. They had covered half the distance when a loud explosion shook the walls, rattling the doors in their frames and sending dust down in a lazy cascade.
“What the—” Kevin started, but Miriam grabbed his hand and took off for the exit.
“Whatever it is, we don’t want to be part of it.”
Kevin certainly agreed with that sentiment. He discovered that his ability to run was still a bit clumsy, and twice he almost fell. The doctor proved to be sturdier than he imagined as she ducked her head under his arm and lent support to his still wobbly legs.
They reached the door and chanced a look outside. There was no sign of activity. At first, Kevin thought that to be a good thing, but then he realized that this place had actually been a populated and busy compound when he’d first spied it. The lack of activity suddenly seemed ominous and unsettling.
“Where the heck is everybody?” Kevin whispered.
“Locked up for the most part. Only so-called essential personnel are actually allowed out and about for the time being. You really caused a divide, Mr. Dreon.”
“And by essential personnel…” Kevin left that open as a question.
“From what I have seen, it consists mostly of Jordan Cranston’s goon squads that act as the compound’s security team and a few of Latricia Jones’ holier-than-thou creeps. They have been weaseling their way in to power for a while now…and this was the tipping point on the scale. First they manufactured division within our own group, then they manufactured a war between the people that they kicked out and those of us who stayed.” Miriam glanced at Kevin and shrugged. “Sorry…almost got up on my soap box and we really don’t have time for that now. We need to get out of here.”
“Agreed, and…” Kevin’s voice trailed off as his gaze tracked skyward to the point where he had his face pressed against the glass so he could better look up.
“What?” Miriam stepped forward.
“Smoke.” Kevin pointed.
“I wonder what blew up?”
“We gotta get moving. You said that you know where Heather is, let’s get her and these people that you say are on your side and let’s get out of here.”
The woman fumbled in her pockets and produced a set of keys. Unlocking the door, they were immediately hit by the various smells from the fire.
“That’s not good,” Miriam said as they bounded down the stairs.
“What?”
“The fire is in the direction of where they are keeping your friend…that is the propane tank area.”
Almost on cue, another explosion rocked the ground and sent a roiling mix of smoke and flame screaming up into the sky. Miriam grabbed Kevin and tried to pull him away.
“I have to try to save Heather.” Kevin felt his lips move, he heard the words, but his feet had ceased moving in that direction. He was no idiot. He knew hopeless when he saw it.
Shoulders slumped, he turned to follow Miriam. She was rambling on about how they had to hurry and release those she knew to be sympathetic, or at least against the way things had evolved within the compound. Kevin heard nothing except the roar of flames occasionally punctuated by another lesser explosion.
***
“Don’t matter one way or another if we come all this way and leave with nothing,” Rose pointed out.
Aleah had insisted that they return to their hideout. But before she could do anything, she watched as Rose came her way at a sprint. Getting beyond where the majority of the zombies had gathered at the base of the steep berm, the girl barely broke stride as she jumped and landed on her butt, sliding the rest of the way in a cascade of dirt and gravel.
When she reached the bottom, the girl proved to be rather smart as she ran for a partially knocked down house across the street. She used the back end of the car that was jutting from what might have been a bedroom judging by where it had come to rest to help herself up to the roof. After a few yells and hoots to draw attention, she ran over the crest and vanished from sight.
Aleah eventually realized that the pain in her chest was from holding her breath. She let it out in a sudden exhale of relief when Rose popped up from behind the fence of the house next door. She went to the girl and reached her just as Rose’s feet hit the ground.
“We gotta go!” Aleah had insisted.
Rose had waved her off. When Aleah maintained her stance on the desire to leave, saying that if Catie was still alive, she would probably be heading to the warehouse complex and might be in a hurry to vacate the area, Rose seemed not to notice or hear a word.
Neither of them wanted to consider the possibility that Kevin and/or Heather might not be in tow. Still, Rose was adamant about grabbing supplies if there were any to be had.
Aleah was still trying to think of another way to win this argument when the younger girl simply turned on her heel and disappeared into the house that she had been about to investigate just before that first explosion.
Climbing through the window, Aleah found herself in a bathroom. The door was open, showing a long, dark, and thankfully empty, hallway. Rose was just vanishing around a corner as Aleah got to her feet and hurried after.
“It ain’t much,” Rose sighed as she flipped open cabinet after cabinet to reveal a few odds and ends, “but there are a few cans of soup. One of ‘em is even tomato…that was my favorite.” A wistfulness seeped into her voice.
Aleah hurried over and helped grab the scant items that could be used which included a few foil pouches of themed seasonings like taco flavor and Chicago chicken. If they had to boil more lawn clippings, maybe this stuff would make them somewhat palatable.
“Just a few more houses,” Rose said.
“Nope,” Aleah’s voice was firm, “this place was some sort of hold out for what looks like had to be a small group.” She had noticed the one bedroom with the five or six sleeping bags still unrolled on the floor—she had also noticed the two decaying bodies in one corner with their brains painting the walls in dark, moldy clumps. “I would be willing to bet that they hit everything close. We would just be wasting time.”
Rose’s face showed that she wanted to argue. The small bag in her hand looked pathetic considering that it represented almost their entire food supply.
They left the house in silence and started back to the warehouse complex. The mood was somber and Aleah found that she had to keep dabbing at her eyes. Hope was retreating faster than she could go to catch it. She saw the slumped shoulders and occasional wipe of the eyes from Rose as well and knew that the girl’s feeling likely matched her own.
They were just about to cross the road and enter the catacomb of long warehouse buildings when something whistled overhead and struck the leaning stop sign they had just passed with a loud clang.
The pair froze at first, but then the flight instinct took over as they bolted at a sprint for the nearest building. They skidded to a halt as a pair of figures dressed in full body armor and sporting rifles stepped out from the shadows.
***
Catie hauled herself up and over
one vehicle after another. These people had done an amazing job of making sure that the trucks, vans, busses and other automobiles that made up this metallic Jenga puzzle were of a variety of sizes. You could not simply hop from one to another.
At last she was clear and took off through the overgrown field that was between her and the final highway that she would have to cross before reaching the warehouse complex where she had left Aleah and Rose. Every so often, the thoughts of the bad news she would be relaying tried to rear up. She suppressed it and kept her mind focused on just getting to her destination.
A few lone zombies had spied her and were now on an intercept course that would cut her off. That was a problem she could get behind. As she neared the first of the undead, she made the conscious choice not to draw any weapon. This poor unfortunate would be the recipient of her frustration.
She slammed into the frail looking creature with a lowered shoulder. It spun and toppled to the ground gracelessly. Before it could try to roll over, Catie came down with a booted foot in the middle of the face. The impact was more of a squish than a crack. For some reason, that made her even angrier. Again and again she stomped, until there was nothing but a pulpy mess from just above the neck.
As more of the creatures began to emerge from whatever places they had been hiding, Catie continued her assault. Alternating between yelling taunts and absolute, grim-faced silence, she hit, kicked, and stomped. At last she spun in circles, her anger now centered on the fact that there were no more zombies to kill.
With a sigh, she surveyed her area of destruction. Bodies lay everywhere; each showing a large spreading stain on the ground where bits of brain and skull punctuated the black, uneven halos.
Entering the warehouse compound, she could feel the adrenaline burning away, leaving total fatigue in its place. She entered the building where Rose and Aleah should be and was not surprised to discover it empty.
