by Fuchs, A. P.
“Yeah, we’ll get killed if we do that,” Des said.
Billie shot Des a hot look.
“Was just trying to help.”
“I know but like August said, there’s probably hundreds right outside the building. Come to think of it, there could be way more than that. We’re just focusing on outside the Richardson building never mind the rest of the buildings that connect to the Square. The whole underground structure could be surrounded.”
Smart thinking, Des, Joe thought. If there was any one thing he had learned over the past year being a zombie hunter, it was planning for the worst.
The low drumming from above grew louder. The creatures outside were getting antsy.
“We need options, people,” Joe said. “August, you know this place best. You were here before us. You saw what things looked like coming into town.”
“But it was pretty much a ghost town when I first entered.”
“But that’s changed. That racket upstairs says it has. Even when we got here things were getting pretty hairy. Wait.” He couldn’t believe he had forgotten about it. He attributed his forgetfulness to lack of sleep. “There’s still also that creature in the building.”
“I was about to say that,” Billie said.
“Why didn’t you mention it?” Joe asked August. “The other one in the building, when we first got here? Why didn’t you tell them and only me?”
“I didn’t want to scare them.”
Joe stepped right up to him. “You think you could scare them? Remember what they went through getting into this place? You have no idea all that happened even just getting downtown never mind all the stuff’s that gone down in the past year in each of our lives.”
“Yeah!” Des said. “Wait. So there’s a zombie in the building?”
“So what would you have done, had I told them?” August snapped at Joe. “Lead an army of two young adults on a mad search for the undead? How do you know there’s just one?”
He had him there. So far they’d been operating under the idea that only a solitary zombie was roaming the Square, sticking to the shadows. There could very well be a couple working together, perhaps ones not as slow to think as their comrades outside.
“Just because you carry that gun of yours, Joe, it doesn’t make you unstoppable. And they’re without firearms.” August pointed at Des and Billie.
You just don’t get it, do you, old man? Joe thought. But August did have a point. It was easy to think of himself as a one-man army, some hero with a gun. However, if one thing had been proven since he hooked up with Des and Billie, it was that he needed help, too, just like everyone else. “When was the last you heard him? Them?”
“Same as you. When we were upstairs.”
“Nothing since?” Billie asked.
“No.”
The beat from upstairs was joined by another, one seeming to come from somewhere much closer.
“They’ve made their move,” August said.
“Then let’s go!” Des said.
Joe turned away and counted on his fingers: “No cars. No bikes. No motorcycles. No walking.” He spun around and held out his arms. “What’re we supposed to do? Fly?”
August grinned.
32
Lock and Load
Joe turned to Billie. “Ready?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”
“This is it.”
“I know.”
His green eyes softened and his gaze penetrated her. For the first time in a long while, his gruff exterior melted and it seemed she caught a glimpse of the man he once was, the one who knew how to love, how to appreciate the little things. Then his eyes changed and the warrior came forth. He cocked his gun, brought it shoulder height, barrel up, and told the others, “Let’s roll.”
Billie hefted the nail gun they had found sitting on the top shelf above the workbench in the maintenance room. It’s now or never, she thought and double checked her pockets for the four long packets of nails she carried, two in the front, two in the back.
The four of them lined up in front of the maintenance room door in the predetermined order: August first, to lead the way, she second, then Des, then Joe, bringing up the rear.
“We head straight to the roof. No stops. As discussed, we encounter any trouble, we stick together. Should we get separated, try to stay in pairs, if possible. Get on your own, keep an eye out for someone and scream for help. We’re all in this together,” August said. He jiggled a box of .22s. The bullets rattled against the cardboard. He stuffed it in his pocket.
“You said this place is empty, right, except for the one on the loose?” Des asked.
“So far as I know.”
Des bit his lower lip. “What about the rats?”
“What?”
“Big buildings always have rats and I’m sure since the rain hit and everyone left, they’ve multiplied. They’re changed now, too, you know.”
“Changed?”
“Into them,” Billie said. “We had a run in at Des’s place before we left.”
August faced forward. “Then they go, too.” He unlocked the door. “Okay, folks, say your prayers and let’s go.” The old man allowed a moment of silence. His lips moved but Billie couldn’t hear what he was saying.
“Want to—” Want to say that out loud, Billie was going to say but before she could, August opened the door and led them out.
Joe closed the door behind them as they entered the hallway and remained facing the rear, gun at the ready, walking backwards as the other three kept their ears opened and eyes peeled for anything that might be lurking in the dark.
August had found a new flashlight, but promised to only turn it on once they reached the stairwell. He didn’t want its beam to tip off anything that might be looking on.
The low thumping of the undead beating against the windows upstairs hadn’t abated. It made it difficult for Billie to hear anything else, even their own footfalls on the tiled floor.
Her heart beat quickly and her breathing became shallow. She alternated between wrapping her index finger around the nail gun’s handle and its trigger just to keep her mind occupied and hands busy.
As they walked, she searched the shadows for any indication of movement. Before they left, August said they may or may not hear the zombie on the loose in the building. If any of them saw anything, the plan was to say, “Dead man walking,” and simply shoot it down. The purpose of speaking first was to warn the others that a shot was about to be fired and not to unnecessarily startle anybody. Billie wondered if she’d remember to even say those three words let alone hammer down on the trigger. She could easily see herself locking up. Despite having survived so much thus far, she wasn’t entirely sure she’d live much longer. Maybe another few days. Maybe a few weeks. Anything further than that didn’t seem all that feasible.
The four hit the stairwell and went in.
August flicked on the flashlight. Its lens had been wrapped in an old thin rag, something to mute the beam so it wasn’t so bright. He didn’t want to prematurely alert anything that might be hiding on the steps.
By the time they reached the ninth floor, Des muttered, “Can’t see why we couldn’t take the elevator.”
“The power’s out, remember,” Joe whispered.
“No kidding. I can barely see.”
“Me neither,” Billie said.
“Quiet!” August snapped.
The low light shining through the gray rag cast the stairwell in a foggy glow, one that faded into nothing by the time it got to Joe.
Billie wondered how Joe could even see anything. She also admired him for being willing to cover their backs. She didn’t know how good his night vision was but hoped it was good enough to help them out should it come to it.
The higher they climbed, the quieter the beating of dead hands against glass became.
As silence slowly settled in, Billie’s own heartbeat burst into her ears.
I could die today. How is that diffe
rent from any other day? Because, we’re in a confined space and I’m with two guys with guns. Anything could go wrong.
Though she was skeptical about August’s earlier assertion about God’s reality, a part of her wished he had prayed that prayer so the rest of them could hear it even if it was only for the sake of comfort and nothing more.
They climbed on.
She considered saying a quick prayer of her own but didn’t know how to start. Was she supposed to say it out loud or did God read minds? Could she just think it?
“If You’re up there,” she whispered. “Keep us safe.” It was all she could think of to say.
“Hm?” Des said from behind.
“Nothing,” she whispered. She looked up at the back of August’s head to see if the old man would give any indication he had heard her. Nothing said that he did. He just trudged up the stairs, rifle gripped tightly with both hands, the hand holding the barrel also holding the flashlight against it.
A low moan came from one of the floors above.
* * * *
Des lost his footing on one of the steps the moment his ears picked up the noise. Joe backed into him and nearly stumbled himself.
“Watch it,” Joe whispered.
“Sorry,” Des said.
Billie cocked her head over her shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yeah, fine. Keep going.”
“Keep sharp,” August said after another low moan came.
The sound of the undead trying to get in from the outside ceased. Whether it was Des and the others’ distance from them or if they had finally given up, he didn’t know. But he was relieved. It would be brutal if they got caught in this stairwell as a legion of the dead started swarming up.
“Mmmrrrggrrooaann.”
It came from one floor up.
“How much further, August?” Des asked.
“Nearly there.” The old man adjusted the rag and shone the flashlight up in between the railings. “Four floors, it looks like. Maybe another.”
“Good.” Des swallowed the dry skin that had formed at the back his throat. He should have had some water before they left.
If they played their cards right, they could just walk on past the floor with the zombie, hit the roof and, like August made them believe, get out of here.
“Hhrrrmmmggrrnn.”
“Shhhhhh,” August whispered and adjusted the rag over the light again.
All were careful to be gentle with their steps as they began climbing past the twenty-ninth floor.
Des held his breath and got his iron pipe ready. I didn’t come this far to get mangled, he thought.
They passed the twenty-ninth floor. The zombie groaned again. It seemed to come from just on the other side of the door.
BRDOOM! The low, metallic sound echoed throughout the stairwell.
“Faster,” Joe said.
August picked up his pace and Des picked up his the second Billie started to jog up the stairs.
BRDOOM!
The light squeak of a handle turning sent Des’s heart racing. They were already two flights past the twenty-ninth floor when he heard the door open.
Footsteps, low, heavy ones.
The thing was inside the stairwell.
A loud bang echoed from far below and drifted up. So did more footsteps.
Lots more.
33
Zombies!
It didn’t take long for the foul stench of the dead to waft all the way up to the stairs next to the rooftop entrance. As much as he thought he would have been used to it by now, Joe still had to cover his nose and mouth to keep from gagging. The others did the same, Des going so far as to tuck his nose and mouth inside the front collar of his shirt like Bazooka Joe.
Joe glanced at the pile of office furniture in front of the door. “I’m assuming you did this,” he said to August.
“Had to. I got the door open but the roof is cluttered with hordes of those things.”
“Why did you wait till now to tell us?”
August gazed at the door. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I thought that if I told you, you wouldn’t come up here with me and we’d risk our only means of escape.”
“Well, that’s just great!” Billie snapped, slapping her hands on her sides. “You drag us up here, promising us a way out and then forget to tell us a tiny little detail like there’s an army of zombies on the roof? This is also coming from the same guy who thought not telling Des and I there was a zombie somewhere in the building was a good idea?” She peered over the railing. “We should toss you to them right now and get out of here on our own.”
“You’re welcome to try,” August said. She moved toward him, about to grab him. “But if you do, I can guarantee you won’t leave this place alive.”
“And walking into a crowd of zombies will ensure that we do?” Des asked.
A low and guttural groan shook the four to their cores and Joe got the X-09 ready. He kissed the barrel and silently counted to three.
The heavy footfalls of the creature who had evaded them for so long were drawing nearer. Any second now Joe’d be able to see its undead form coming up the stairs. “We haven’t much time.”
“Then first things first,” August said. “Des, gimme a hand. Billie, come up beside me. Joe, you too.”
Joe stepped backward up the stairs until all four were crowded together next to the barricade of office equipment.
“It knows we’re here so no sense in keeping quiet,” August said and lifted one of the chairs he had placed there and handed it to Joe. “Toss ’er down.”
Joe took the heavy chair and dumped it over the railing. The legs broke when they smashed against the edge of a stair two flights below. August handed him another and Joe threw that one over as well, aiming for just in front of the broken one. This one broke, too, its seat ripped from its back, landing partly in front and partly on the chair already down there, creating a path that would be very difficult to climb over even for a live person never mind one that was already dead and had stumbling feet.
“Filing cabinets next,” August said and had to put his rifle and flashlight down on the desk in front of the door so he could waddle the heavy cabinet across the floor. “Billie, stay back.” She pressed herself up against the wall.
The footfalls of the zombie were getting closer as were the countless others coming from the floors below.
“Up and over?” Des asked.
“On three,” August said, and the three men grabbed hold of the paper-filled cabinet.
Joe couldn’t get a good grip with the X-09 still in his hand so he holstered it before grabbing on again.
“One,” August said.
Joe got down near the bottom and prepared to lift.
“Two.”
He ensured his feet were planted and prepared his arms and legs for one big heave of exertion.
“Three.”
The boys hoisted the cabinet up onto the railing. It teetered against the metal for a moment before Joe finished pressing his feet into the floor and pushed the thing over the edge. The cabinet sped down onto the stairs and landed with a thunderous BOOM. The drawers flew open and thousands of sheets of paper spilled out, creating an absolute mess on the stairway.
“Again,” August said.
The three repeated the procedure and dumped the remaining cabinet over the edge. It crashed in front of the other, filling the stairs with broken and dented metal drawers and a host of paper.
Cloom, cloom, dradoom. The rooftop door banged against the desk in front of it and opened an inch. Gray, scaly fingers with cracked fingernails poked through and the growls of the undead filled the top of the stairwell.
Joe ran at the desk and rammed it against the door, slamming it shut, sending a spray of fingers and black blood onto the desk’s top.
“Grrrrrrnnnn.” The voice was deep and raspy.
August shone the flashlight over the railing.
Joe peered over it and felt his mouth drop at the sight of an un
dead man. This one wasn’t like the others and he didn’t need to be right up close to him to see that. This creature was different. Its shoulders were wide and well-muscled, with arms as long as pool cues. The thing had to duck as it poked its head out from underneath the floor above it. The creature wore a torn yellowed collar shirt and ripped brown dress pants, his entire outfit laced with crusty dried blood, ligaments and entrails.
Joe scrambled for the X-09 as the zombie began to step its long, thick legs over the chairs at the bottom of the steps.
Gun drawn, Joe lined up his shot and aimed it at the top of the dead man’s balding head. As if sensing the bullet about to be fired into its skull, the enormous zombie clamped a set of meaty fingers onto one of the broken chairs and hurled it up toward Joe. The edge of the seat caught Joe in the wrist, sending a shockwave of pain through his forearm. The X-09 went off and punctured a hole in the ceiling. Billie and Des let out a yelp.
August shoved himself beside Joe and pointed his rifle downward. No sooner was the barrel of the rifle in position did a large, gray hand grab hold of it and pull, yanking the rifle from August’s fingers.
“No!” the old man shouted.
The rooftop door broke open again, slamming into the desk with a loud bang. Des shoved the desk against the door, closing it.
The massive zombie continued its climb, stepping over the smashed filing cabinets like a normal person would negotiate climbing a rocky hill.
