Infected

by Anthony Izzo

  He slogged ahead, squinting in the darkness, expecting something to grab his ankle. Visions of something long and slimy, a creature snaking through the ooze, filled his head.

  As far as he could tell, the space was wide open. The frigid water bit into him, and he started to shiver. He called her name again but received no answer. He wished for a flashlight but didn't want to waste time looking for one and possibly loose Kayla.

  He made his way across the subbasement until he reached the far wall. It was constructed of rough stone and water dribbled in at certain spots. He wondered how long the building could sit on the crumbling foundation and stay upright.

  Following the wall to his right, he continued to call out for Kayla at intervals, but received no response.

  He heard Kayla cry out, and it sounded like it was coming from straight ahead. He plowed ahead, the water kicking up and splashing his chest. Ahead he could see a sliver of light coming through a split in the wall.

  Kayla continued to cry out, her voice growing louder. He saw someone man-sized and his heart sank, thinking a zombie had gotten down here and attacked Kayla. He drew closer and saw the thing turn around, the blank, white eyes staring at him. The creature came at him, slammed into Rob. The two of them fell in the water. The foul liquid rushed into his mouth and he gagged. Tasted like liquid sulfur. The shotgun slipped from his grasp and he felt the thing's hands clutch his shirt. He kicked at the zombie, scrambled to his feet, and surfaced. Hacking and coughing, he saw the zombie surface. He had to get the gun. Certainly couldn't drown something that was already dead.

  It opened its mouth, trying to bite his midsection. He grabbed its ears and pulled, one of them tearing off in his hand. Disgusted, he flung it in the water. He swung and connected with the thing's nose. It caved in with a squishing noise. He pushed it away and ducked under the foul water, reaching around until he felt the shotgun.

  Surfacing again, he turned the shotgun on the zombie and fired. The blast tore its head to pieces and it sank beneath the water. Shivers racking his body, Rob approached the source of light in the wall. Part of the wall had collapsed, and there was a narrow opening leading upward. There was a sliver of light coming from the opening, which was big enough for a small person to fit through. Like Kayla. Which meant she was outside. With the creatures. Or zombies. Whatever they were.

  He made his way out of the subbasement and found his way to the receiving area. After going into the office, he checked the black-and-white monitor. The van, looking like some forgotten artifact, stood parked where Ryan had abandoned it. There was no one in sight.

  He went to the button that controlled the roll-up door. The sound of it opening might bring them, so he'd have to be quick. He took in a deep breath and coughed, his throat and lungs still irritated from sucking in water.

  Rob pressed the button and the door began to rise. He moved in front of the door and knelt down so he could see if anyone was coming. So far, so good.

  When the door had been raised high enough, he scooted outside. He hoped that twit Ryan had left the keys in the van. He stepped over one of the reeking dead things and got behind the wheel of the van. He reached down, felt relief when the keys were in the ignition.

  After starting it up, he pulled up the ramp. His plan was to circle the building and look for Kayla. Hopefully she hadn't gone far.

  He turned left and saw the first zombie.

  Kayla had a bad moment when crawling through the tunnel. She'd not been able to move and it had felt as if the mud and muck would squeeze her until she couldn't draw breath. But her sweatshirt had been caught on something, and when she pulled hard, it came free.

  Now, she knelt near the side of the building, right near where she'd crawled from the basement. Looking down at the hole she'd come through, it was amazing she'd fit through it. But that zombie-thing had almost made a snack out of her. Compared to that, crawling through the hole didn't seem so bad.

  Her clothes were caked in mud. Smelly water dripped off of her, and she couldn't stop shivering. But she was alive. Now she just had to find Dad somehow. But he was in the building, wasn't he? She couldn't count on seeing him. She decided to head back into town. Someone would help her. Grown ups were good like that.

  The road back into town was nearby. Between her and the road was a dumpster and a green, dumpster-like container for collecting paper recycling. It had a cheerful cartoon dog on the side of it. He was giving a thumbs up. Or paws up. Whatever.

  She froze for a moment. Could she really do this? There were a ton of those things running around. What if they saw her? She didn't even have a weapon.

  Be brave, Kayla. Maybe she could run and get help for Dad and his friends. Her mom was at the hospital, which wasn't far from Dad's office. She decided to move, scurrying to the paper recycling dumpster and crouching. It looked clear. She was pretty fast and could run down the road.

  She was about to make a break for it when she heard footsteps. To her left, two of the creatures came around the corner. They hadn't seen her, and for a moment panic overwhelmed her. Her arms and legs felt like they were made of lead. Had to find a hiding spot. She looked up, and on the side of the dumpster was a square opening so people could pour in their paper.

  Standing up, she gripped the metal edge. It bit into her palms and she sucked in a deep breath. She pulled her self up and dove head-first into the recycling dumpster. The paper broke her fall.

  She heard them coming closer, hissing and grunting to one another. She moved to the other side of the dumpster, as far from the opening as she could get. Burrowing in, she covered herself with catalogs, magazines, and newspapers. Stay still, she told herself.

  Something rustled next to her and she heard a squeaking noise. It was directly in front of her face, and a moment later she saw it. A pink-eyed rat. It's front teeth were enormous and yellow and she had a horrible vision of it biting her nose off. Its nose twitched as it sniffed. She balled her hand into a fist and punched it in the side. It shrieked at her and darted back into the paper pile.

  A bang echoed on the side of the dumpster and Kayla nearly stopped breathing. There was enough of an opening in the papers for her to see the hole in the dumpster and one of the zombies poked its head inside. Its mouth was smeared with blood and it licked its lips. It swung its head back and forth, sniffing.

  Maybe she hadn't buried herself deep enough and it would find her and snack on her guts. Dad liked horror movies, and she'd caught a glimpse of one of his zombie movies. Something with dead Nazis and in one scene they'd cracked open some guy's skull and taken out his brain. Dad had caught her looking over his shoulder and sent her upstairs. But still, she didn't want her brains sucked out.

  The thing sniffed around for another moment and pulled its head back. She heard the footsteps again, although this time they were getting farther away. She brushed aside the papers and crawled to the opening. Peered outside. It was all clear. She scooted back out of the opening, her shoes slapping the pavement.

  She made it to the road and started jogging towards town.

  Chapter Seventeen

  They had locked themselves inside the offices of a telemarketing firm on the tenth floor. To Mary, it felt like they might be sealing themselves in a tomb. She wondered if Rob had the right idea; taking the elevator to the basement and trying for the van.

  “Maybe Rob was right,” Mary said.

  “We're safer here,” Ramsey said.

  “Have you heard from the Army?” Ryan said to Tim.

  “Nothing yet. Far as I know, they're still on the way,” Tim said.

  Mary said, “If they get in here, where do we go?”

  “Try for the roof,” Ramsey said. “Then hope for the chopper to come.”

  “That's assuming they can land on the roof,” Tim said. “Might not be able to.”

  “Great time to think of that,” Ramsey said.

  From out in the hallway came a low pounding. They were at the stairwell door.

  Rob set his
sights on the zombie, gunning the engine. The van lurched forward and clipped the zombie, splattering red glop across the windshield. He turned the wipers on, which only served to smear the crimson mess across the glass.

  He rolled ahead, looking out the driver's side window for Kayla. So far, there was no sign of her and he hoped she had found somewhere safe to hide.

  While he was rolling along, he had an idea. The next turn would take him around the front of the building, and if it were clear, he could urge the others to come down. They could pile in the van and get away. And hopefully find Kayla.

  He dug his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Ramsey's number.

  “Rob, where are you?”

  “I'm down in the van. I'm about to pull around the front of the building. If it's clear, you might be able to make it to the van. I'll keep circling until you come down.”

  “I'll wait on the line while you scope out the front,” Ramsey said.

  With the phone to his ear, Rob turned the corner. The front doors were smashed out, but he saw none of the creatures. He figured the bulk of them had gone into the building. “It's pretty clear. Not sure about the lobby. If you want to try for it, I”ll keep circling. Trying to find Kayla.”

  “What happened to Kayla?”

  “We ran into trouble in the basement. She had to run,” Rob said.

  “I'll round up the troops. Don't leave us swinging in the breeze.”

  Rob said, “Wouldn't dream of it.”

  He ended the call and swung the van around the building. There was a grassy area with benches intended for employee use. A bare Japanese maple stood at the center of the square. You could usually find someone sitting under that tree in the summer, usually with their nose in a smartphone or laptop.

  Still no sign of Kayla. He rolled the window down and called out her name, but no answer came. She couldn't have gone far, or so he hoped.

  He peered into the shadows, looking for any sign of Kayla. There were a row of bushes along one side of the Ramsey building, and he thought he saw movement, but then dismissed it as the wind rustling the shrubs.

  He cruised around the side of the building, a sick feeling in his guts, something telling him he wasn't going to find his daughter.

  The old man was unlocking the main door to the telemarketing firm's office. He owned the building and insisted on having a personal set of keys to every lock in the place. Mary noticed the seat of his pants and his suit coat was a mess of wrinkles. She was standing ten feet behind him and noticed a peculiar odor of Old Spice and old farts emanating from her boss.

  The old man had been on the phone with Rob. “What are you doing? What'd Rob say?”

  Tim said, “Leave that locked.”

  Ramsey turned and faced them. His wispy white hair stood up on the sides, reminding Mary of a weird owl. “Rob's swinging the van around to the front. He's going to call back. If it's clear, we're going – or at least I am – to the lobby.”

  “What if it's overrun?” Tim asked.

  “You've got a gun. Use it,” Ramsey said.

  “I can't protect you against a small army,” Tim said.

  “Then give me your gun,” Ramsey said.

  “Not going to happen.”

  “I'm going to wait for Rob's call. Then we're getting out of here.”

  Ryan said, “I think we should stay. Wait for the Army.”

  “You could be waiting a while,” Mary said. “Jerry, I'm with you. Can we get the cop to come with us?”

  “The cop can hear you talking, you know,” Tim said.

  Ramsey opened the door and said, “Who's coming with me?”

  Mary followed, looked back at the cop and Ryan. “This could be your last chance.”

  As she stepped into the hallway, there was a hollow bang that she knew was the stairway door being bashed in. She heard a chorus of growls and knew they'd breached the floor. Ramsey ran to the elevator, his saggy ass jiggling. He pressed the button as the first creature appeared at the end of the hallway.

  It came down the hallway and Mary crouched, as if preparing to fight. She had no idea what she'd do when the thing got to her. Maybe claw its eyes out? The cop appeared at her side and shot the thing twice in the head. It fell forward, its face slapping the floor.

  A group of them appeared, at least a dozen strong, standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the hallway. The cop stepped in front of Mary and got in a shooting stance. He started firing, dropping three of the things in short order.

  They drew closer, reaching and grabbing. The cop fired again, the gunshots sounding cannon-like in the hallway. Mary looked at the elevator, as if that would make it come faster. “Hurry up,” she said, pounding on the elevator doors.

  The doors opened and Ramsey slipped on first. Mary followed, but the cop stayed, continuing to fire on the creatures. They overwhelmed him, grabbing him, and the last Mary saw of him was his face frozen into a scream as they ripped his arms from his torso.

  As they started to descend, Mary said: “Where the hell's Ryan?”

  Those suckers could take the elevator and get chewed to pieces in the lobby. Ryan was going to stay put and wait for the Army to save his ass. He shut the main office door and pushed a table from the reception area against the wall. Then he grabbed the chairs that went with it and stacked them on top.

  He retreated through the office, back towards a conference room. He thought that door would lock. One time Mary wanted to sneak in and fool around in there when the suite was empty. She'd wanted him to lock them in and bend her over the table. But that would've been suicide.

  Once inside the conference room, he shut the double doors and locked them. Good. He could sit tight and wait for help to come. Besides, those freaks probably went after Mary and the others. He liked her, but that was goddamned dumb, going back to the lobby.

  It was a few moments before he heard the crash, glass breaking and things being thrown around. They were in the offices. He sat still, took deep breaths. They couldn't get in here, could they?

  The doors buckling inward told him differently. There had to be an entire horde to make the doors do that. He stood up, looked around the room for a weapon. There was nothing to use. Unless he planned on inking them to death with a Bic pen.

  The doors blasted inward, the wood splintering. The one in the lead had arms the size of tree trunks and stood well over six feet. Ryan jumped up on the table. The big zombie lunged at him, and he tried to leap over top of the hulk, but the rest of the group grabbed him and slammed him back onto the table.

  He felt them clawing at his guts, felt nails pierce his skin. And then the terrible agony of his bowels being ripped out. He prayed to pass out. Instead he was treated to a view of them burying their faces in his abdominal cavity. Gnawing. Tearing.

  The elevator doors opened and Emma swept the shotgun back and forth. Two zombies knelt over a corpse and shoveled guts from a corpse into their faces. One of them turned around, its mouth smeared with blood. Emma shot them both, their heads exploding.

  The emergency room and the lobby were to the right. Emma stepped off the elevator and waved the others along. They moved down the hallway until they reached the ER, where a row of corpses lay on the floor. Their eyes stared up at the ceiling.

  Rebecca walked along side Emma, the Sawzall ready to go. Megan pushed Mom along, and Maria wheeled Christopher. They were a motley crew. Easy pickings for the dead things. The faster they got to her cruiser, the better.

  They moved into the main area of the ER. Gurneys lay on their sides. A crash cart had been tipped over and its contents strewn all over the floor. There was no sign of Dr. Weiss or any other staff, and Emma guessed they had either fled or died.

  “I'm making a run for my car,” Maria said.

  “Don't be stupid,” Rebecca said. “Stay with us.”

  “My son's at home. I have to go to him.”

  Emma said, “We can take you to him.”

  “I'm sorry. He needs me.”

  “Wher
e's your car?” Rebecca asked.

  “In the ramp across the street. My keys are in my pocket. Good luck to you all,” she said, and took off for the side door.

  “All right. Keep moving,” Emma said. “My cruiser's out front. We should all fit.”

  She heard hissing and looked behind them to see two zombies entering the ER from the hallway. Three more came in from the direction of the lobby entrance. She reached in her pocket, took out some shells, and filled the shotgun to capacity.