Dark Humanity

by Gwynn White

  Ugh. Why did I think that?

  Where could she have come down? Was there a room on the north side of the Arch that was a maintenance shed like the one in the south? If so, was there a grate and a tunnel over there too? Did that duct come out on the other end of this same railroad tunnel? He almost started running right then and there, but he looked the other way toward Grandma. She was silhouetted in the evening light of the tunnel exit, now talking to Hayes. Would it be smart to leave her alone and try to force his way into danger?

  He couldn't make up his mind.

  The radio exploded, “Go! Go! Go!”

  The net became unintelligible with all the calls. He listened until there was nothing but a long series of beeps and boops like the frequency just stopped trying.

  From inside the duct leading back to the Arch, there was a lot of gunfire, then a lull.

  “Infected have overrun both entrances.”

  What the hell?

  The screaming started getting uncomfortably loud in the railway tunnel.

  Looking north into the darkness, the tiny speck of light to the north was filled with thrashing people now. He couldn't make out any details, but the sound of gunfire was rolling in waves down the tunnel, as were the screams.

  Zombies were already in the railroad tunnel, though not very close as yet. Would he be called to defend this exit from a tide of the undead? It seemed unlikely he could make much difference given the small caliber of his gun. He suddenly felt very inadequate and laughed at the foolishness of thinking he could get Victoria through the other exit—if it existed.

  “This is Osborne. We have all our people clear of the museum. We are heading for the train tunnel now. Out.” He sounded like a man on the run.

  Someone should be coming out soon.

  More gunshots up the tunnel. To his dismay, a bullet ricocheted by. He took one step into the smaller tunnel, mainly to shield himself from stray bullets. He worried Grandma had no such shielding.

  Someone tapped him on the back, startling him near to death. It was a teenage girl, but not Victoria.

  “I was told to come down this tunnel. Where do I go now?”

  He was torn. He didn't want to send her out into the railroad tunnel because of the stray bullets. She was the first of many people who would be coming through this exit, so he had no choice.

  “Just come out and sit on the far wall. Keep your head down.”

  She did as instructed. He vacated the small tunnel, so he wasn't in the way. Soon there was a stream of kids, young adults, and the elderly coming through. Everyone who survived up in the museum was now pouring down. Everyone but the cops. He assumed they'd bring up the rear.

  About fifty people eventually made their way into the railroad tunnel, and most took up positions crouched down along the far wall. The screaming and gunfire in the north end had become feverish and was inching closer. He was on the cusp of praying for the appearance of some of the police officers to help stop the tide rolling down the railroad line.

  A long ten minutes later, a group of officers poured out, including Jones—now only carrying his shotty. His group did not include any of the three men who had joined him going in. He found Liam and asked for an update on what was happening in the tunnel. The sound of screaming was very close from up north, and many people had run by and were congregating near the south entrance, as if unwilling to expose themselves to the outside—yet.

  “There are infected up that way. I've been hearing gunshots and screaming almost this whole time you've been inside. It's too dark to see what’s going on for sure.”

  A few minutes later, several more officers streamed out. This group included at least two of the guys that went in initially with Jones.

  There were now about ten officers in the railroad tunnel. They split up to provide a line of defense inside the tunnel as well as a lookout or two near the exit to the south.

  More officers trickled out of the small tunnel, but he had yet to see the captain. Some of them grabbed people who were against the wall—probably family—and made a run for it out the tunnel exit. For some reason, that simple act of desperation chilled him to the bone.

  Minutes later, several female officers emerged, including the one who was hopped up on speed earlier in the day. She didn't even notice him. She immediately headed to the civilians along the wall, apparently searching for someone.

  Not long after, some injured officers came out, dragging a couple of wounded guys who couldn't walk on their own. It looked like they had gunshot wounds.

  Then no one came out for a long time. Besides wondering when the bombs would fall, it gave him plenty of time to think about all the grisly ways Victoria could have died at the hands of her pursuers and seemingly endless time to wonder about the far side of the main tunnel, where he was positive a wave of infected people were coming for him. The gunshots and screams indicated there were still people alive in that direction, though he couldn't tell how close they were.

  “We have her. We're coming out.” It was Osborne.

  Minutes later, a gaggle of officers came out, including one who had no shirt on and looked like he'd just run a marathon. Coming out behind them, was—Victoria!

  He ran to her and hugged her the second she cleared the roof of the low tunnel. He couldn't help it. She didn't fight him and even seemed relieved to be in his arms. Or maybe just to have escaped. She looked exhausted. Well, of course she is, dummy, if she went all the way to the top again. She had several abrasions on her face and dried blood below her nose—like she'd been punched hard a couple of times.

  The captain crawled out with a few soft grunts. He looked terrible, was covered with blood, had a bandage around his bicep, and he seemed to have trouble getting one of his legs out of the tunnel. Once out, he limped over to Liam.

  “We meet again. Thank you for what you did here today. Your plan saved my people from certain death in there. Officer Jones told me of your situation, and that of your friend, so I sent up my best runner here”—he pointed to the guy with no shirt on—“to see if he could find your girlfriend. He found her at the very top. Somehow she managed to incapacitate one of the bad guys on the steps, but the other one beat her up pretty good, I'm afraid. He was so distracted hitting her; he never saw my man coming. We brought her back down. It was the least we could do to return the favor. You're a real hero, Liam.”

  Liam walked over to shirtless guy to shake his hand. He wanted to go back and hug Victoria again—She's alive, thank God—but gunfire outside was intense and constant, and his survival senses were overriding everything else. People outside were running madly toward the water of the river, and the screaming and gunfire inside the north part of the tunnel were getting closer.

  We've run out of time.

  As if to prove his point, a zombie slithered out of the tunnel and bit hard into the back of the captain’s ankle.

  Osborne turned around and shot the bloody creature several times in the back and neck. The bullets got the attention of the thing attached to his foot, and when it let go, the captain put a final series of shots into its head. Liam could only stare in horror as its head exploded, the debris plastering the insides of the small tunnel. Then a sudden thought struck him hard.

  The captain’s been bitten.

  Osborne looked down at his leg and yanked up the cuff of his pants to reveal a very tall tactical boot with shallow bite marks on it. He gave a relieved chuckle, then noticed the look of horror on Liam’s face.

  “Don't worry, son. I've been fighting zombies my whole life.”

  Fighting zombies—how is that possible?

  Before he could ask, Captain Osborne was already onto the next crisis, giving orders to his men, shouting above the cacophony of the engulfing disaster. Liam's ears constantly rang from the sound of the captain's point blank shots, so he simply grabbed Victoria's hand and pulled her up the tunnel to where Grandma sat. She and Hayes looked like they were waiting for the bus, but she clutched Liam's backpack in a wa
y he recognized as fear. Then she saw Victoria standing next to him, swaying unsteadily.

  “Nice to see you again, dear.” As if Victoria had just dropped in for tea and cookies. “Liam, why don’t you help Victoria sit down? She looks rather tired.”

  He did as she suggested, then looked around. He guessed there were about twenty officers still in the fight. Most of them were facing the dark of the tunnel, pointing their lights toward the clamor coming from that direction. Sometimes people would run by screaming, but more often now it was a zombie that came slinking out of the confusion only to have its head blown off. The far exit had become obscured by darkness, dust and the smoke from multiple weapons. More than a few times, bullets ricocheted to his end of the tunnel, sending citizens flat onto the rocks.

  Once the captain had his men where he wanted them in the tunnel, he moved to the opening on the south end. He put two of his female officers in charge of using zip ties to try to secure the exterior gate of the small service tunnel and told them to shoot anyone attempting to come out of that tunnel now.

  He saw Liam’s group and stopped to ask how they were doing. He also let them know they were going to need to help out when the time came to run—which he said was going to be soon.

  “This tunnel is about to get dangerous.”

  Get dangerous? Liam thought. As opposed to the quiet Sunday afternoon at the park it is now?

  “We have to move somewhere more secure,” the captain continued. “Get ourselves room to breathe. Can you both shoot?” he asked, nodding toward Liam and Victoria.

  He nodded yes. Victoria was silent, then turned to him. “I'll take that second pistol if you aren't using it. I don't want to ever be unarmed again.”

  He looked at Osborne. “We'll both be ready, sir.”

  Osborne gave him a small salute and began walking away. He caught himself when he saw Hayes.

  “You have any kind of weapon?”

  “I'm not a warrior. I'm a...doctor. I'm too important to fight them with guns.”

  Osborne responded. “So important you and your friends were willing to spend your time getting drunk in the candy store? I don't think you're as important as you think you are. Neither the zombies nor the gang members will be stopping to ask for your credentials—you can bank on that.”

  He moved away quickly, meeting up with the remaining officers now guarding the large opening at the head of the tunnel.

  Hayes looked back at Liam, but he avoided the driver-slash-doctor's gaze by pretending to talk to Victoria.

  Was that the truth? Did he lie to me earlier?

  He realized he had just picked up a valuable life lesson. In a world where no one knows your past, anyone can be anyone.

  The final plan was kept simple. About a quarter mile to the south, the train tracks entered another short tunnel before they left the Arch grounds via a long above-ground trestle. The captain figured if they could reach that tunnel, it would put them in good shape to keep moving to the south, out of the worst of the massive scrum taking place all around them. It would also get them clear of the impending military assault. He mentioned that as a casual addendum, as if unconcerned they were nearly out of time.

  Some of the officers expressed concern at leaving so many people to their fates up top.

  “I know you all took an oath to serve and protect your communities. I did as well. But our communities are gone. What we have now, pretty much everywhere except this little bubble containing our families and us, is anarchy. Our community is now down to our families and the friends we pick up along the way.” He nodded in Liam's direction.

  “Our only hope of seeing another day is to get out of this fighting so we can take a breath and figure out what comes next.” He cinched a bloody rag around his upper arm, gave a grimace in doing so, and continued with his pep talk.

  “I want us all to move as fast as we can over to that next tunnel. This one is about to push us out anyway, judging from all the shooting and screaming behind us. I'm sure we can hold them off for a while, but we only have the ammo in our pockets, so if we're going to make a move, we have to do it now.”

  “Grab your families and line them up here. We leave in five.”

  Liam checked his weapon, ensured the safety was still on, and practiced thumbing it on and off.

  Victoria held her Mark I but was still in a daze.

  He leaned over to her.

  “Hey, you OK? Have you ever fired a pistol before?”

  She fought back a sniffle before speaking. “Yes. My dad took my sister and me to some indoor shooting range back in Colorado several times. We didn't shoot a gun like this one, but we did shoot pistols with magazines.”

  “That's good. That means you'll have no problem with this. In fact, this is probably much easier to shoot than anything you used with your dad. The trigger is very soft. My dad did something to modify it so “even an old lady could fire it,” as he would say. You just point it in the direction you want to shoot and gently squeeze the trigger. I'll warn you though that the ammo we're using is very light duty. It will do fine against any petty criminal, but I don't think the infected will even feel this unless you pop them through the eye or nose. Or, if you're at point blank, it should go through their skull. My dad and I talked about these guns last summer, and he said they were deadly in the proper hands, but you have to know what you're doing. I wish now he had just given me a bigger gun.”

  “Wow. My parents gave me Bibles for my birthdays. Yours gave you guns. Kinda cool, actually.”

  He felt a rush of pride, then remembered he was mad at his parents. Sort of.

  She continued, “Where do I put it? I don't exactly have pockets in this dress.”

  He took off his belt and handed it to her.

  “I don't need it. Trust me.”

  He gave her his holster, which fit the belt and the Mark I perfectly. She wrapped the belt around her midsection over her dress, then dropped her gun into the snug holster. A little snap could hold it in place, but he suggested she leave it open as she'd likely need the gun soon.

  “It ain't pretty, I'm afraid, but it will keep you in the fight.”

  She looked up at him with wet eyes.

  “I'm so sorry. I just left you guys in there. I thought I knew what I was doing, but I couldn't outrun those two. They caught me at the top. I fought, but... ” She gave him a tired smile, though her swollen lip and bruised cheek made it visibly painful for her to do so.

  He was about to respond, but she kept going.

  “I was so sorry to leave you guys. But I had to save you. I needed to save someone after what I'd done in the city.”

  She leaned into him, and rested her head on his shoulder and began to weep.

  “I don't want to die in this horrible place. I want to see open sky again. I want run to the next tunnel. Then never stop. I want to survive. I want you to survive. I want Grandma to survive.”

  He didn't know what to say. He'd never had a girl cry on his shoulder, and his emotions were in upheaval for so many reasons.

  Then the earth rumbled. Everyone looked around like frightened deer in headlights. They got serious about moving closer to the exit.

  The police had nearly gathered everyone.

  Osborne yelled at the top of his lungs.

  “ONE MINUTE!”

  He gently pushed Victoria off his shoulder and held her in front of him. Despite the madness and noise, he looked in her eyes.

  “I'm not going to let you go. We're going to get through this together. I promise.”

  Should I kiss her? Would I be taking advantage of her?

  His mind was unable to process all the permutations of emotions swirling around his head and heart at that moment. His face turned to stone.

  Victoria gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Wiping the tears from her eyes with her free hand, she yelled to him over the tumult, “Together?”

  Released from his indecision, he echoed, “Together!” and tucked his Mark I in his waistband. His
pants were tight enough it would stay there pretty well. He felt he could take on the world.

  Grandma looked anxious, with her hands on her lap. When she saw him she tapped her ear, a symbol he recognized meant she couldn't hear because there was too much noise. They exchanged a smile as he got her ready.

  He and Victoria each took hold of one handle on the back of her wheelchair and pushed her into position along the side of the tracks, facing south out the entrance. The rear guard of officers had closed the distance to be with the bigger group. Children hung on to their parents; the youngest were carried by those with the strength to hold them. Most kids were crying amidst all the commotion and noise. Many adults were brushing tears as well. Behind them, a seething mass of plague victims emerged from the dark, smoky tunnel.

  The captain and a vanguard of cops with shotguns stood right at the cusp of the portal. With a flourish, the lead officer turned around to everyone and gave his most rousing and succinct speech of the day.

  “RUN LIKE HELL, BOYS AND GIRLS!”

  They all plunged into the chaos.

  13

  The Hole Nightmares Fall Out Of

  Liam was under the wide-open sky for the first time in nearly a full day and was a little disoriented by the setting sun, heat, and fresh air. The noise of gunfire and panicked screaming came from every direction, accompanied by the angry howls of military aircraft above them. He stumbled a little as he pushed one side of Grandma's wheelchair along the rocky railroad grade while Victoria pushed the other. Grandma did her best to hang on with one hand while she gripped his backpack with the other. They were surrounded by a few dozen men, women, and children making a break from one tunnel to another.

  Even while on the run he couldn’t help noticing odd details. A couple pulling along a young teen girl, who was, in turn, dragging along a small border collie that wanted nothing to do with her. A nun, black habit and all, easily outpacing almost everyone in her orange running shoes. A young police officer, barely older than him it seemed, pausing to fire at nearby threats with his sidearm—liberally cussing the entire time.