by Schafer, Jon
Those bastards planned this out well, he thought, but now I know what they're up to. I know. Running back through the Galleria, Harrison dropped down on all fours and crawled through the hole he’d made in the door to the bank. Moving quickly to the vault on his left, he turned the three combination dials to their correct numbers and spun the large steel wheel to unlock the heavy door. Wrenching it open, he was momentarily blinded when the automatic light came on inside. He squinted as he tried to find his treasure on the rows of shelves that filled the vault.
A banging and thumping coming from behind him interrupted his search. Spinning and raising the hammer to defend his gold, Brian saw a mass of dim figures pawing at the windows that made up two walls of the bank. Even as he watched, more figures joined those already pressed against the glass.
His brain beat out the warning that it was more thieves. The alarm brought them to try and take his gold. In this thought, Brain Harrison was half right. The ringing alarm had attracted the dead, but they weren't trying to steal the gold. They were attracted to him as food.
Watching the thieves pounding on the glass, Harrison was filled with a blind rage that so many people who were beneath his contempt were vexing him. Tilting his head back, he screamed, "You can't have it, its mine! I'll kill you all!"
He noticed the bloody hammer in his hand and knew it wouldn't be enough to protect his gold. Spotting what he needed, he dropped the hammer and rushed forward. After unhooking the velvet ropes that guided customers in a line from the waist high, weighted post, with a strength born of madness he slung the bludgeon over his shoulder.
Looking at the distorted faces pressed against a window a dozen feet away, he let out a scream of triumph as he ran forward, swinging the guidepost at the glass.
The dead weight of dozens of bodies pushing against the window, combined with the blow dealt by Harrison, caused a six-foot square panel of glass to bulge out and then flex in. With a sharp crack, it split down the middle and popped free of its frame leaving a gaping hole.
The first three dead things to enter were smashed down by the pole-wielding lunatic, but others staggered in to take their place. Harrison found himself forced back into the bank lobby as it filled with stinking, whining creatures bent on his consumption.
Harrison smashed heads, arms and legs, but the tide of walking dead was relentless. For every two he smashed down, at least one, if not both, got back up to come at him again. Soon the horde was added to when another pane of glass gave way on the opposite side of the bank and even more dead poured in.
Tiring, and seeing that he was about to be flanked by the new group of thieves coming at him from his left, Harrison dropped the gore covered pole. He looked around wildly at the zombies that almost had him surrounded, his brain flashed that he needed to be with the thing he needed to keep safe. The thing he cherished above all else.
His only thought was to protect the gold.
Breathing in gulps, he dodged around two filthy, shrieking creatures and bolted into the vault. He turned around and grabbed the edge of the heavy door, pulling it closed with a bang as dozens of the things tried to follow him inside.
Dead hands clawed at the outside of the closed vault door, as he spun its combination dials and the spoked-wheel on its front that drove the bolts into place to secure them.
Harrison heard the locks click home and for the moment felt safe. He knew he never would have been able to hold the door closed by his strength alone. Taking a deep breath, he saw that he had protected himself, and the gold, with his last ditch effort. Now he could enjoy his new wealth. Spinning, he went in search of his treasure. His eyes roamed the empty shelves and open lock boxes on both sides of the vault as he felt himself grow frantic.
The huge safe was empty. Everything was gone.
"Someone beat me to it," Harrison said incredulously to the empty room. And indeed he was right. On the Friday afternoon before Halloween, the entire contents of the safe had been transported to the Federal Reserve in Miami.
A steely resolve flowed through Harrison as he vowed to find where the gold was taken. And find who had stolen from him and kill them.
"Take my gold back," he screamed.
Spinning toward the vault door to exit and make good his oath, in a moment of clarity and sanity, Brian Harrison realized exactly what he had done when he shut himself in.
Just as the interior light reached the end of its timer and shut off.
With the main power to the bank out and no compressors to ventilate the safe, Brian Harrison, money market specialist, asshole, murderer and Fat Football Fuck screamed unheard for hours before the air ran out.
***
Deprived of their meal, the dead already inside spread out in the bank. More of their number, attracted by the sound of the fire alarm, followed and poured into the building by the hundreds.
The dead near the back of the bank could smell the alluring scent of fresh meat, and it wasn't long before they found the section of glass missing from the door leading into the Galleria. As they crawled through the opening, the smell of food became stronger, causing them to spread out and search the stores for its source. A few entered the foyer and one, perhaps acting on a long forgotten memory, moved over to the elevators and started pressing the call button.
With fumbling hands, another managed to open the door to the stairway, while a few of the less finicky eaters fought over the remains of Jonny and Marcia. As soon as the fresh smell of humans wafted out from the stairwell this all changed. With a focus to their search for food now at hand, the dead crowded the doorway, bumping into one another and creating a jam in the opening. The force of those pushing from behind quickly relieved this.
Like a cork from a bottle, popping and spewing out its torrent of champagne, the dead flowed into the stairway.
And upward.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Clearwater, Florida:
Steve and Heather bolted out of bed and hurriedly dressed when the fire alarm woke them. Arming themselves, and taking along the extra M-4 they kept in their suite, they made their way by flashlight down to the twelfth floor. Neither of them could smell smoke and the sprinkler system hadn’t gone off, so they were anxious to find the reason for the warning bell. They didn't believe it was a fire, because when the city water had dropped down to a trickle the week after they locked down the building, Steve had switched the building's system over to the storage tank on the roof, ensuring they had water to drink and bathe with. Additionally, if a fire did break out, it would be quickly extinguished by the sprinkler system. Although they would use up their available supply of water, Steve's reasoning was that if the building burned down, then the water on the roof wouldn't do them any good. They could find more water, but they only had one refuge.
Entering the station, Steve and Heather found Brain and Susan coming out of the door to Steve's old office that Tick-Tock had taken over.
"Where's Tick-Tock?" Brain asked before Steve could pose the same question. "He’s gone and so is Jonny and Marcia."
From the office next to them, Mary called out, "Turn that damn alarm off, I'm trying to sleep."
Instead of answering her, Steve gave orders to the others, "Brain, give your pistol to Susan." Handing over the extra M-4's to the tech, he said, "Take this, and both of you follow me.” He spun on his heel and went back out into the hall with Heather close behind.
Brain caught up with them by the stairs and asked, "What's going on?"
"I don't know," Steve replied.
"Is it a fire?" Susan asked worriedly.
"We don't think so or we'd be drenched." Heather answered as she pointed up to a sprinkler head in the ceiling. "Might be a short in the system."
"But where'd everyone go?" Brain asked. "I was in my office and I know Tick-Tock and Marcia were asleep. Jonny was in the studio, but when the alarm went off, I found everyone gone except Mary and Susan."'
"What about Meat?" Heather asked as she stopped behind Steve at the door t
o the stairs.
"He moved down to the fourth floor a few days ago," Susan answered. "He said he needed some space.”
Opening the door to the stairs, Steve halted as he suddenly heard the sharp crack of an M-4 rifle echoing in the enclosed space.
"I think we just found Tick-Tock," he said. "Come on."
Running down the stairs two at a time, the group heard almost constant firing coming from below. Steve passed the fourth floor door and was rounding the corner when he spotted his second in command crouched on the intermediate landing as he fired down at something unseen. Deafened by the noise of the rifle, Tick-Tock didn't hear them until they were right on top of him. He started as he caught sight of them out of the corner of his eye and began to bring the rifle around but stopped when he recognized Steve.
Tick-Tock turned to fire another burst of rounds down the stairwell and yelled, "Zombies, a whole shit load of them. I' m almost out of ammo. Give me a spare clip."
"What happened?" Steve asked as he handed over a loaded magazine and looked down at where Tick-Tock was firing.
"What?" Tick-Tock yelled back.
Realizing Tick-Tock was deafened from firing his rifle in the close space of the stairwell, Steve yelled, "What happened?"
Pulling the rifle tight to his shoulder, Tick-Tock fired at two of the walking dead who showed themselves. One went down but the other was only struck in the jaw and kept coming.
"Son of a bitch!" Tick-Tock screamed before firing again, this time hitting the zombie in the forehead and spraying brains and black pus against the wall behind it.
The assault over, Tick-Tock answered Steve's question with a yelled, "Don't know, I jumped up and headed down to the first floor to check the warning board in maintenance as soon as the alarm went off. Ran into these shitheads on two and I've been losing ground ever since."
A large group of zombies rounded the corner. Heather and Steve joined Tick-Tock in firing down on them. The wave kept coming through the hail of bullets, and they found themselves pushed up above the fourth floor landing before the assault slowed.
Steve turned to Brain, who had been helping by firing into the horde whenever someone stopped to reload, and shouted, "Where's Susan?"
"She went to wake Mary up. She’s going to try and find the others too," he screamed back.
"Go up to the station," Steve hollered to Brain. "Grab the box of ammunition just inside TickTock's door and bring it here. Then go back up and pack a bag with clothes and whatever else you need, but make it fast. Tell everyone else you see on the way to do the same, and they should dress for a boat ride."
"Pack?" Brain asked loudly, disbelief in his voice. "Boat ride?"
"We've lost all of the first four floors," Steve explained as Heather fired a few shots down the stairs. "There's got to be hundreds of those things in here now, and we can't kill them all."
"Where do we go?" Brain asked.
Steve and Tick-Tock had discussed an emergency evacuation plan with Heather shortly after obtaining the MRAP. It looked like they would have to put it into effect.
Steve's reply to Brain was cut short by a sudden flurry of firing as Tick-Tock and Heather opened up with their rifles. When it subsided, Steve tried again. "Get everyone to the roof," he yelled. Then explained what he needed Brain to do.
***
Susan managed to get Mary up and dressed by the time Brain came back to the station and told them the plan. She went into Tick-Tock's room and looked around at what she thought the man would need for himself and to keep them alive. She knew Tick-Tock was tied up with defending the stairs and wouldn't have time to pack, so she would have to do it for him.
Shaking open a duffle bag she found hanging from a coat hook, she started throwing clothes in the bottom before carefully wrapping the hand held radios taken from the MRAP in shirts and placing them inside. More clothes went on top of these along with a box of ammunition. She was searching for the next item when Mary appeared at the door and asked, "Have you seen my brown suede boots? You know, the real soft ones."
Susan gave her a pained look and opened her mouth to say something along the lines of, ‘Get your shit together’, but knew it was useless. Mary was Mary.
"Try in the knee space under the desk," she replied and then stopped as she thought of Cindy and how she had been hiding in a spot like that when Heather found her. Where was the little girl? No one had even thought about her in all the confusion. Throwing the rest of Tick-Tock’s clothes into the duffle, she carried it over to the door of the suite and went in search of the little girl.
Susan looked in the office that Jonny and Marcia shared and saw that the cot they had made up for Cindy was empty. She was about to turn to go when a thought struck her. Walking over to where a desk was pushed against the wall, she crouched down and said, "Cindy, honey, are you in there?"
The knee space was facing the wall so Susan had to almost lie on the floor to see under the desk. In the dim light she spotted two, small, tennis shoe clad feet and said, "Cindy, it's me Susan. I'm going to pull the desk back so don't be scared. We need to get all of your things together so we can go."
The little girl’s muffled voice came back, "Are we going on the trip Marcia told me about?"
Susan smiled. "Yes, we are, honey," she said as she slid the desk back.
Cindy came out and stood, unsure of what to do, so Susan knelt by her and said, "You've got to help me, Cindy. You've got to be a big girl and get all your clothes together and pack them in the bag Marcia got for you today. We've got to leave soon and I've got more packing to do, so I have to leave you to do this alone." Susan took the little girl’s hand and asked, "Are you going to be okay alone?"
Cindy nodded and replied, "I was alone for a long time already. I’ll be okay."
Susan hugged Cindy as she worried about Marcia. There was no way she would leave the little girl alone like this unless she was incapable of getting back when the alarm went off.
"You won't be alone anymore," she reassured her.
Letting Cindy go, she said, "Now, I need you to hurry and then you can help me, okay?"
Cindy answered with a nod and turned to where her clothes were stored under her cot. Susan watched her bring out her carrying bag, so she turned to go pack her own belongings before checking on Mary and starting back on Tick-Tocks things. Too much to do, she thought, as she hurried toward her own room while trying to mentally account for everyone's whereabouts.
Mary, Brain and Cindy were now accounted for here at the station. Jonny and Marcia were missing. Since they hadn't made contact with anyone, she had to assume they would stay that way.
At least calling them missing was better than calling them dead, she decided.
Heather, Tick-Tock and Steve were in the stairwell and she had warned Meat what was happening on her way up to wake Mary.
Susan suddenly thought about the crazy guy who lived down the hall but couldn't remember his name. They would collect him when they started moving things to the roof. If he didn't want to come, then screw him, we don't have time to deal with a bunch of his crazy assed shit.
Feeling calmer about the situation, Susan entered the room she shared with Mary. Surprisingly, she was ready to go, and although complaining loudly about it, was helping Brain stack boxes by the door. Susan had seen Brain go in Tick-Tock's room, grab an ammunition container and run out, so she knew that their defenses on the stairwell would hold for a while. Once Meat joined them, they might even be able to kill enough of those dead things to retake the first floor and not have to evacuate. With these thoughts in mind, she started to gather her things.
***
Meat had been awakened by the fire alarm and didn't know what to do. Should he go upstairs to the station? Should he stay where he was and wait for someone to come get him? His questions were answered when he heard Susan pounding on his door and yelling about the building being invaded by the dead.
Knowing what to do now, his first action was to retrieve his pistol. R
unning to the stairway to help repel the zombies, Meat realized he was in such a hurry that he’d forgotten to put his shoes on.
They always feared there might be a small breach in their defenses, and the plan was to quickly use overwhelming firepower to push the dead back. Once this was done, they could close off the break-in with sheets of plywood that they left cached at different spots around the building.
Meat had heard Susan saying that the zombies were coming up the stairwell so he assumed she meant a few of them had made it this far before being spotted. He was surprised when he opened the door to the stairs and saw through a haze of gun smoke the mass of hideous creatures dressed in filthy rags crowded just below the landing he was on.
As Meat watched, two of the dead detached themselves from the pack and came toward him. Even as he raised his pistol, a salvo of shots came from up the stairs on his right to cut them down. Looking in that direction, he saw Steve and Tick-Tock perched on the intermediate landing above him with rifles raised. Over the noise of hundreds of whining, dead throats, Meat heard Tick-Tock yell, "Run you old hippie. Get your ass up here."
Meat hesitated for a second before throwing himself through the door and starting toward his friends. The dead, who had been massing for another push toward the food above them, saw Meat and surged forward. Meat, in a leap that belied his age, jumped the first of the bodies lying prone on the landing and was stepping forward to dash up the stairs when his foot came down in a large puddle of black goo leaking from the shattered head of one of the zombies. He tried to catch himself, but his bare foot slid out from underneath him as he lost traction in the noxious substance. Landing on his butt, he tried to crab walk backward away from the hands reaching out to him but was suddenly grabbed around the ankle by a dead woman dressed in the rags that were all that remained of her business suit. Looking over his shoulder for help from Steve and Tick-Tock, Meat screamed and a look of horror crossed his face as the first set of teeth sunk into his leg.
Tick-Tock and Steve saw the pleading look on Meat's face as he was bitten and fired as one into his head. Mike Kemp, aka Meat, died as two bullets penetrated his brain, never to rise again. Heather, who had watched Meat's demise as she reloaded her rifle, joined Steve and Tick-Tock as all they fired into the writhing mass of walking dead below them. They cleared the area around Meat's body only to have it fill with more zombies as they reloaded.
