by Max Lockwood
Sergio sighed. “What about the Crusades? What about all of the super-conservative Christians in the military? I’ve met a bunch of them. There are other people who read that book every night like you do, yet they can defend their land with no problem. Why can’t you?”
Sally shook her head, her long, bushy hair floating back and forth. “My beliefs are my own. I cannot speak for other people and how they justify their sins. I’ve seen good men turn into monsters. “
“They’re not people anymore,” Matthew said gently. “You may look at them and see your husband, but I look at them and see the thing that killed my wife. If we could save the zombies, we would—I honestly believe it. But there are so many healthy people out there who are being obliterated. We need everybody on board.”
Sally bit her lip. She clutched her child to her chest as if she expected someone to wrench her out of her arms. She rocked Marigold back and forth, muttering something into her ear.
Carl looked at Matthew, who could only shrug in response. Matthew didn’t know how to help. He had already learned that Sally was not one who gave in to suggestion easily.
“I can stay behind and pray for your safe return,” she suggested, as if the others would be thrilled with that idea.
Carl chewed the inside of his lip. “That’s nice and all, but I think we need more than prayers right now. We need bodies who can deploy weapons. Even if you can’t swing an axe, maybe you can create diversions. You’re obviously quick and agile, otherwise you wouldn’t have made it here. There might be a role for you where you might not have to kill as much as the others do. You can keep the zombies from getting too fixated on one person.”
Sally’s face was stony. Carl tried to be gentle with his suggestions, but at the end of the day, she needed to take orders.
“You don’t understand what I’m saying,” she whimpered. “I can’t go out there. The only reason I made it here without getting killed is through prayer. God allowed me to survive without blackening my soul by killing. I feel that going outside and fighting work directly against his will.”
“And what happens if we stay inside and the walls start crumbling because we didn’t defend our territory?” Sergio asked, getting pink in the face.
She shrugged. “Then perhaps it was our time to go.”
Sergio threw his hands in the air in frustration. Carl pursed his lips, not allowing his temper to get the best of him. He still had a platoon to lead.
“Maybe you should ask God to explain to you how teamwork works,” Sergio grumbled.
“It’s okay to be scared,” Pip said. “I was terrified the first time I made a kill. But with practice, it got easier and less scary. We’re not going to throw you to the wolves. If you want, I’ll stand beside you and help you if you struggle. Carl will be up in the fire escape, ready to help. We don’t plan for fatalities because we’re too good at what we do. It’s risky, but it has to be done.”
Matthew was impressed by Pip’s inspirational speech. After last night, when she could hardly string a sentence together, she seemed mentally sharp. That, and she knew when to ditch the sarcasm. It seemed to be helping, too. Instead of cowering in the couch, Ellie was sitting tall and nodding along to what Pip had to say.
Sally remained unconvinced. “I’ve already lost one daughter. I’m not going to let my child lose me. None of you are equipped to take care of a baby. She’d be tossed away the moment she became an inconvenience.”
Carl was silent. While he certainly didn’t have plans to harm a healthy child, he would likely re-home the baby to the first decent candidate who came along. If that was one of her biggest fears, then it was rational.
“Fine,” Carl sighed. “You can stay inside with the baby. I don’t know if we have any use for someone who refuses to join the cause. Even Genevieve will fight if it comes down to it. I just don’t know what to do with you.”
That was a loaded statement. Even Ellie, who was a bit of an odd duck, was easy to get along with. She had different life experiences, being about ten years older than the others, but she was reasonable. Even Genevieve, who struggled to communicate with the others, had the same fighting spirit that the group was going for. She didn’t say much, but she supported the group at all times. Sally was still a mystery. She was young, but not necessarily youthful. For Matthew, dealing with her felt like a cross between protecting a child and relating to an old woman. She didn’t seem to have much in common with anyone.
“I do want to help,” Sally said softly, her voice falling off at the end of her statement. “But the battlefield is not my place. If you want, I’ll keep watch the whole night while everyone rests.”
“Fine,” Carl said coldly. “That might help a little, but it still doesn’t help as much as another soldier would. I just want you to know that you’re not off the hook because we let you have what you want.”
“I understand,” Sally squeaked out. The baby began to fuss, so she quickly left the room and retreated to the makeshift nursery on the next floor.
Once the door closed behind her, Sergio gritted his teeth. “Perfect timing,” he growled. “She probably pinched the thing to make it cry so she could leave.”
“You guys are awfully harsh on her,” Pip said.
“We need people,” Carl argued.
“No, we need fighters. Everyone knows that she’d only be a turd out there.”
Ellie frowned. “I’m afraid I will, too.”
“You’re fine, Ellie,” Matthew said. “Have a little confidence in yourself.”
“I was just starting to feel safe,” she whined. “I’ve been on the run for so long and it was nice to be able to feel like I was at home.”
“I know,” Sergio said kindly. “If it makes you feel any better, you’ll be working alongside some of the best combat specialists in the city. Plus, Carl’s got the best shot of anyone I’ve ever met. If a zombie lays a hand on you, he’s going to put a hole right through its eye.”
After a few more minutes of convincing Ellie that she was going to be fine, the group moved on to the planning stage. Carl, Sergio, and Matthew started to take the poster board out of the conference room to begin planning the attack when the others protested. If they were going to have to risk their lives to protect their home, they wanted to have a say in it, too.
Carl was reluctant at first, as the other fighters had no strategic training. But after Pip refused to let them keep secrets, they sat around the conference table, discussing the merits of different strategies. Everyone could share their strengths and weaknesses, and eventually, they came up with their final draft of the plan. Sergio taped it to one of the windows, leaving it on display for everyone to study.
For the rest of the day, the eight buzzed with nervous energy as Sally made herself scarce. Matthew figured that it was for the best because she wasn’t particularly popular after her refusal to join their ranks.
When he went to bed the night before the battle, Matthew hoped that his suggestion to stay and fight wasn’t going to be the death of the group. He would do whatever was in his power to keep the others alive, but as the groans of the zombies grew louder, the voices telling him they would be fine quieted.
24
When he awoke the next morning, Matthew smelled the scent of coffee drifting through the air. When he opened his heavy eyelids, he saw a tray of coffee cups, plus an assortment of pastries and fruit cups arranged around the coffee table.
“Breakfast,” Sally said, causing the others to wake up. The others must have slept as restlessly as Matthew had, knowing that they had a big job to do in the morning. The sun was just starting to stream through the window shades, sending light into the dark lounge.
“You scared the crap out of me,” Lucas groaned as he wiped the side of his face.
“Sorry. I just wanted to make sure everyone got a good start to the day.”
Sergio rolled his eyes. “It still doesn’t make up for the lack of real help,” he muttered to Pip.
“Let
’s be ready to go in thirty minutes,” Carl demanded. He grabbed a toaster pastry and a cup of coffee and walked toward the stairs. “Matthew, come with me.”
Matthew took his orders and quickly followed Carl upstairs, grabbing a granola bar as he went. He jogged up the stairs and followed Carl out onto the fire escape. Matthew sat down on a metal step and watched the congregation of zombies below.
“We’ve got a lot more today,” Carl said. “We don’t have much time to spare. What are you thinking?”
Matthew looked at the crowd of zombies who were practically pouring into the street in front of the office building. It appeared that they knew there was fresh meat inside. It made his stomach hurt to see all the monsters waiting to attack. He just hoped that no innocent people got caught up in the mess.
The zombies looked strong and capable. Matthew figured that many of them had turned within the week and they had all recently eaten. They groaned and screamed in a dissonant chorus, trying to be the first one to spot an innocent human in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“I knew we would be dealing with a lot of zombies, but this may be more than even I anticipated,” Matthew replied.
“I was thinking the same thing. I don’t want to send my family and friends out on a suicide mission. What we’re doing is what an entire National Guard should be doing right now. We need tanks, explosives, and automatic weapons for this job. Do you ever think about how absurd it is that we’re bowling down these things with the butts of our rifles and knives?”
“All the time. It would be like fighting a modern war with cannons and muskets.”
“I wish we had cannons.” Carl chuckled. “At least then, we could eliminate a whole bunch of them at once.”
Matthew daydreamed about how great it would be to stage a military-style attack on the zombies. They could clear the streets with hardly any effort and very little risk. It made him so frustrated to know that these capabilities were available but absolutely nowhere to be found. Instead, they would swing and stab at the masses, hoping that everyone could keep up with the absolute mob of bodies closing in on their safe haven.
“We really have to go out there, don’t we?” Matthew sighed.
“I’m afraid so,” Carl replied. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried. I don’t like the idea of being so far away from the action. I just know I’m going to feel helpless up here while I watch everyone fight for their lives. For all I know, I won’t make a single kill. I’m not going to be any help, and that kills me.”
“I guess, but you could also end up being the most vital part of our team,” Matthew replied.
He shook his head. “We need more people. I keep thinking about how things would be different if I could have saved more people and brought them along. Maybe we would have a fighting chance of getting out of here, and not just struggling to keep the walls from shattering.”
Carl surveyed the scene, sticking his hand over the edge of the railing to feel the breeze against his skin.
“How long has it been since you’ve shot a gun?” Carl asked Matthew.
“I’m not sure,” he said, trying to think. “I want to say it’s been about three years. I can’t believe it’s been that long. I haven’t even been to a shooting range or anything like that since I’ve been discharged.”
“PTSD?” Carl asked.
“Yeah, I try to avoid places where I’ll encounter gunfire. It’s not like it’s sure to send me into a panic, but it sometimes makes me jumpy. I can handle it, but I prefer not to. Don’t worry about having to shoot around me.”
Matthew hated talking about the aftereffects of war. Even talking to someone who understood, he felt weak by admitting his involuntary reactions to noises. He always felt like he needed to explain that he wasn’t crazy.
“No problem,” Carl answered. “If you had to, do you think you could fire one of those rifles?”
“I don’t see why not,” he responded. “I assume it takes a little longer than three years to forget how to fire a gun. So, are you as good as Sergio says you are?”
Carl smiled. “I’m okay, I guess,” he said modestly. “To be honest, I’m a little worried about using this type of gun for this job. If you want me to take out a bunch of zombies from a crow’s nest, then we would have no problem. But I might have to make some seriously tricky shots from a difficult spot. I’d prefer to have a little target practice before we go, but that’s impossible. The weather is decent and the visibility is pretty good, but this isn’t my gun and it’s not one that I would pick for sniping. Given the nature of the job, if I’m off by a fraction of an inch, it could be the difference between shooting a zombie through the brain or shooting one of our people.”
Matthew didn’t envy his position. He certainly wouldn’t be comfortable having to make those decisions. Plus, the second he made one shot, he would have to continue shooting until the threat was over. It would be a complete disaster and a failure of a mission. Matthew knew that there were serious risks on the ground, but at least he could make some important kills.
“That’s tough,” Matthew said. “But I really think you’re the best man for the job.”
He nodded. “I agree, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. I’m confident that we made the best plans we could, but I still have my doubts.”
Matthew understood this. If they weren’t at risk of losing everything they’d worked for to get the building, he would suggest they call the whole thing off. But they didn’t really have a choice. The zombies were already beginning to press against the front of the building as the zombies out front rapidly turned to goo.
“I should get back down there,” Matthew said, getting up from the fire escape. “It’s nearly time. Are you going back down to talk to everyone?”
He shook his head. “I’ve got my gun in the next room over. I think I’ll just stay up here and wait for you guys to get out there. Try to get the others pumped up, and hopefully, we won’t have to talk until the mission is complete.”
“Got it,” Matthew said. “I’ll see you when it’s done.”
Before the door could close behind Matthew, Carl stuck his foot in the jamb. “Hey, Matthew,” he called. “Don’t tell the others that I’m worried, okay? I want them to think that I’m confident in my abilities. I want them fighting hard, not running scared, okay?”
Matthew gritted his teeth. While he agreed that he didn’t want the others to worry about their lives, he didn’t like the implications. The best shooter of the bunch, their insurance, wasn’t sure he could save them in a jam. If Carl couldn’t keep them safe, no one could.
“I wouldn’t dream of mentioning it,” Matthew said before descending the stairs.
Matthew took deep, even breaths as he returned to the third floor. Before entering the lobby, he stood up straight and put a tough face on. Though nervous, the air of confidence was much more important than the real thing. He strutted into the room and grabbed his baseball bat, giving a few warm-up swings.
The others seemed to take notice. They grabbed their favorite weapons and prepared for battle. Sergio was sitting in the corner, wrapping thick layers of duct tape around his wrists.
“It’ll protect you from having your skin broken,” he said before passing the roll to Pip.
“Can I just cover my entire body with it?” Ellie asked seriously.
“This is for the little bites and scratches,” Sergio explained. “Your wrists are most susceptible.”
Ellie liberally covered her “wrists” from the area between her hands and elbows. Pip rolled her eyes.
“You’d better be able to move your arms,” she said.
“I can,” Ellie responded, flexing and extending her short arms.
“Okay, are we ready to go now?” Matthew asked, standing with his hands on his hips and his feet in a slightly wider stance. “Carl’s already up there, waiting for us to leave.”
“Let’s do this thing,” Pip said, slapping Jennifer on the butt as she jogged towa
rd the stairs. Lucas and Sergio laughed and ran after her. Jennifer stuffed a few items into a small bag and draped it over her shoulder. She laced up her running shoes extra-tightly and pulled her long, skinny braids into a scrunchie.
Matthew let Ellie walk in front of him, mostly because he was afraid she wouldn’t go down the stairs if she wasn’t being forced to go. But she willingly made her way to the atrium where the others stood in front of the glass door, staring at the zombies.
“Can we go?” Pip asked. “I don’t like to think too much about what we’re doing.”
“Agreed,” Lucas said.
“Do we all remember our plan?” Matthew asked. “Does everyone have their weapons?”
Affirmative responses sounded out around the echoing chamber.
“Then let’s go,” Matthew said, hitting his bat on the ground. Leading his troops to the door, he turned back to make sure his troops were following him. Not wanting to see fear on anyone’s face, he locked eyes with Sergio, who gave him a smirk and a head nod.
As anticipated, there were zombies not more that ten feet outside the door. Once they smelled the humans, they swarmed, reaching for the survivors with their gnarled limbs. The soldiers took their places in formation.
Sergio and Matthew led the troops into battle. A few feet behind them, Pip and Lucas took the wings. Ellie stayed central, protected by the others in the front. She was ordered to watch her friends’ backs, something she was well-equipped to do. If she couldn’t deliver the power needed to physically defend someone, she could shout out warnings to the others. She followed behind the two leaders with her long hunting knife firmly grasped in her hand.
Without having to speak, the group stepped up to the zombies and began their attack. The front four swept through the zombies, letting them fall where they stood. Pip made clean, accurate kills that left no chance of life. Balding heads rolled to the ground, where she occasionally punted them out of her way. Lucas also made athletic swings, crushing bones and shattering skulls as he went. His headshots were lethal, as the fragments of skulls broke off into jagged shards that pierced the zombies’ brains.
