Steven swings the machete and it glances off the skull of the thing, slicing away a chunk of the forehead and hair.
“Shit,” Steven grunts as he brings back the machete again.
I keep the flashlight steady but I avert my gaze until the only sound is Steven gasping for breath. When I open eyes the severed head is still blinking up at me beside the body on the floor.
“Christ, Steven,” I complain. I sweep the flashlight around the workspace and notice a set of keys on the desk. I step over the body in the chair and inside the cubicle. As I reach for the keys, I notice a handwritten note sitting beside them. I resist the urge to pick it up and read it. Nothing good could be written in there. After I grab the keys, I glance around the shelf and the walls for anything else of use. There’s just a few procedural binders, a calendar and a photo of the security guard and his wife and three children wearing Mickey Mouse ears at Disney World.
“Find anything?” Steven whispers.
“Yeah,” I say. “Got the keys.”
“Come on then,” Steven urges me.
When I turn to go, I can’t help looking at the head on the floor again. The taste of bile creeps into the back of my throat.
“We can’t just leave him like that,” I say.
“Him?” Steven says.
“It ain’t right,” I shake my head.
Steven sighs and looks around the dark room. I slide the knife out of my jacket pocket and hand Steven the flashlight to hold before I crouch beside the head. I hold the thing steady beneath one of my boots and plunge the knife into the brain through the eye socket. The mouth of the thing goes slack and I remove the knife and wipe the black blood off on the jacket still worn by the body on the floor.
“Let’s go,” Steven hisses.
I follow him out to the hallway and we turn to head back toward the entrance of the mall.
“You think someone did that to him?” Steven asks. “Tied him up like that and left him to die.”
“I don’t think so,” I say. “He knew he was going to die. Probably just didn’t want to hurt anyone else.”
“Could have had the decency to shoot himself,” Steven complains. “Some people.”
“Some people just don’t have it in them to do that,” I remind him.
He glances back at me and remembers that I am one of those people.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he apologizes.
“I know,” I say.
“Hoff” Lorento whispers urgently over the radio. “Get everyone out now.”
The radio is silent for several seconds as Hoff fails to respond. My heart begins to pound.
“Hoff!” Lorento whispers again. “They’re in the pharmacy.”
Eighteen
Gunfire erupts down the hall near the parking garage entrance. Steven lopes along beside me, hunched over in pain from his shoulder. I could run right passed him but I don’t want to leave him behind. We pass the box office for the movie theater and round the corner in time to see a mob of corpses pouring in through the parking garage.
“Where the hell are they?” Steven panics. He sweeps the flashlight by the benches where we left the rest of the group. They’re all gone. The corpses stumble toward us from the garage entrance. Their moans echo loudly in the vast building.
“We’ll find them,” I say and push Steven so he will run away from the doors.
“I have to find him,” Steven pleads.
“Go, Steven!” I push him again until he turns and begins to run as fast as his injured body is able.
A muzzle flash appears up ahead of us, followed by several more. The mall fills with the sharp crack of weapons firing. Bullets whiz passed us, striking the horde of dead behind us.
Steven clutches his shoulder as he quickens his pace beside me but struggles to keep up. We weave through the seating area of the food court and the silhouettes of the group become visible in the moonlight. They have taken up a position outside the sports bar.
“Hurry your asses up,” Hoff barks in between shots.
We reach them at the doors, and Steven rushes to grab his son who is cowering with Val in the doorway.
“You get the keys?” Hoff asks.
“Yeah,” I gasp.
“Get us inside!” Hoff screams and resumes firing at the dead.
I fumble with the set of keys and try a couple of random ones on the door. My hands are shaking so much I 1can barely keep the key steady enough to stick it in the cylinder.
“We’re running out of time,” Hoff reminds me.
“Working on it,” I tell him.
There must be thirty or forty keys. I know I can’t sit here and try them all. I glance around at the door and notice the address is listed next to the hours. Unit 31. I shuffle through the keys until I notice the one engraved with the number 31. I shove it into the lock and twist it until the bolt clicks. I push open the door and hold it while everyone rushes inside. Hoff is the last person in, backpedaling into the bar as he continues to fire. We push the door closed and I twist a knob to lock the deadbolt back in place. The dead fall onto the glass doors and windows and throw their fists and bodies into the glass. We bought ourselves a few minutes, but it won’t hold them forever.
“What the hell happened?” Steven asks.
“I’m not sure,” Hoff shakes his head. “Some more of them showed up. The doors were holding up fine, though. Thought I heard some shots fired outside. Maybe someone took out the glass.”
“Where’s Lorento?”
“Never made it back,” Hoff sighs.
“Damn it,” I curse. “What do we do now?”
Hoff shrugs. The big soldier collapses into a chair and wipes the sweat from his brow.
“We’re all gonna fucking die in this shit hole now, that’s what,” Nicole says.
I glance over to see her standing in front of the bar next to Midhun. Nick is behind the counter twisting off the cap of a bottle and nodding in agreement. He sets a shot glass on the bar and pours himself a shot of whiskey. Nicole taps her index finger on the bar and Nick locates another shot glass and fills it.
“What about you, Habib?” he asks.
Midhun waves a dismissive hand and wanders over to a seat next to the windows. He stares curiously at the infected pressed against the glass.
“At least we picked the right spot to die,” Nick says and lifts his glass.
I storm over to the bar and smack the glass out of his hand and send it flying across the room.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I snap.
Nick stares at me in shock. I’ve always been the one willing to put up with his shit, but I am tired of waiting for him to get it together.
“Fucking get control of yourself and quit being an asshole,” I scream at him. “I’m sick and tired of waiting for you to get your shit together. Help us for once in your miserable life.”
Steven grabs me by the arm and pulls me away from the counter.
“Everyone just calm down,” Hoff soothes. “Give me a minute to think.”
Steven leads me to a booth across the dining room where Valerie hugs Stevie, and I pretend not to notice when Nick grabs another shot glass behind the counter and pours himself a drink anyway. It’s not that I am pissed because Nick wanted a drink. Heck, I could use a stiff shot right now, too. I just can’t understand people that don’t give a damn, even when their very lives depend on it. Not to mention the lives of everyone around them. I let out a long breath and look away from the bar and notice Stevie with tears in his eyes.
“You doing okay, kiddo?” I ask him.
“I’m scared,” he says. His eyes keep checking on the door to the mall where the crowd of the dead continues to grow.
“Everything’s gonna be fine, champ,” Steven says.
“Don’t worry,” I smile. “I locked it up good. They can’t get in here.”
Stevie nods and then tilts his head to rest it against Valerie. She wraps an arm around him and tries to smile, but she
seems pretty scared as well. While I am glad to see that Stevie seems to like her, a part of me resents her, too. I would much rather be the one who had nothing to do but look after a sweet little boy. To hold someone and tell them everything is going to be okay is so much easier than making sure it actually will be.
“Lorento,” Hoff whispers. I turn and see him hunched forward in his chair with the radio pressed to his lips as he stares at the floor. “Hernacki? You read me?”
A long silence follows.
“I’ll be damned,” responds a voice. At first, it sounds like it could be Hernacki, then I realize it’s actually Bishop.
“Son of bitch,” Steven whispers.
I walk towards Hoff to hear the transmission over the sounds of the dead outside.
“You people are really hard to kill! I’ll give you that much,” Bishop laughs.
“Maybe you ought to give up then,” Hoff responds. “Just walk away while you still can. There’s no way this ends well for you.”
“Did you really just threaten me?” Bishop says. “Wow. You got some balls, man. I could have used a guy like you. What’s your name anyway?”
“Fuck you,” sneers Hoff.
More laughter. Several other voices in the background join in.
“You better watch it,” Bishop says. “Or I might just get mad and put a bullet in blondie’s pretty little head.”
Hoff lowers the radio and glances up to meet my gaze.
“At least she’s alive,” I whisper.
“So he says,” Hoff mumbles. “Not sure I believe him, though.”
“Now, in spite of what you might think, I’m a fair and reasonable man,” Bishop says. “I’ll give you all five minutes to surrender before I knock the hell out of little miss secret agent here.”
“How do we even know she is okay?”
“Say something,” Bishop says.
There’s a long pause and the sound of a struggle at the other end of the radio.
“Talk!” Bishop barks.
“Just get out of here, Hoff,” Lorento says. “Follow the plan.”
“That’s enough of that,” Bishop growls.
“You have to give us more time,” Hoff says. “Those things are all over the mall now.”
“This ain’t a goddamn negotiation. I don’t care how you do it,” Bishop says. “Five minutes. Don’t keep me waiting.”
The radio goes quiet and Hoff slams it down on the table in frustration. He gets up from his chair and paces several steps toward the door, then turns and walks back to the table. I look through the restaurant windows at all the dead in the mall. A few dozen are still crowding against the glass and hundreds more are now wandering the building.
“We can’t possibly get through the mall now,” I say. “Not with all those things out there.”
“That’s not an option,” Hoff says.
“What about Lorento?” I ask.
“Jess can take care of herself,” Hoff sighs. He walks across the restaurant to the doors that lead outside the mall. At the street entrance, Hoff cranes his neck to peer up and down the block in each direction. After a long moment, he turns and walks back to the table and starts pulling out magazines from the pack and loading them into his ammo vest.
“What’s the plan then?” I ask.
“Tipton,” Hoff says. “We can make it there.”
“On foot?” Steven interjects. I glance back to find Steven has snuck up right behind me again. “You can’t be serious.”
Hoff lifts his eyes and shoots Steven a serious stare. He returns to filling up his ammo vest.
“Staying here is suicide,” Hoff says. “We have to get out of town. That’s our only chance. There are a lot of houses on the westside of the city, maybe we can find some transportation once we get out there.”
“If we get out there,” Nick scoffs. He grabs the bottle of whiskey off the counter and refills his shot glass.
Midhun turns from the window and approaches Hoff. The soldier looks up at the engineer with an impatient scowl.
“What?” Hoff asks.
“May I have a weapon?” Midhun asks.
Hoff glances at me and then cocks an eyebrow at Midhun.
“Sure,” Hoff agrees. He reaches down into the duffel bag and pulls out a handgun and a couple clips. “What about all that non-violence crap?”
“To destroy one of those beings is not violence,” Midhun says as he takes the weapon. “That is an act of mercy.”
“You know how to use that?” Hoff asks.
“I will manage,” Midhun smiles. He pulls back the slide and chambers a bullet. The man turns away from Hoff and walks toward the windows along the street.
Hoff shakes his head and then he hoists the duffel bag and dumps the contents out on the table. There isn’t much ammunition left. Not compared to what the soldiers had yesterday.
“Everyone load up,” Hoff says. “We will need to move fast, so leave behind anything that isn’t essential.”
Nick pours another shot down his throat and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. He notices Hoff giving him a hard stare. The soldier grabs his rifle and stalks over to the bar. I trail behind Hoff, in case there is trouble between the two of them.
“Mind pouring me one of those?” the soldier asks to my surprise.
“See, Scout,” Nick smirks. “Nothing like a little liquid courage. Right?”
Hoff grunts and twirls his index finger a few times to get Nick to hurry it up.
Nick grins and nods and sets a shot glass on the counter and fills it. He moves the bottle to fill his glass but Hoff grabs his hand.
“No more for you,” Hoff tells him. “If you ain’t sober enough to keep up, I’ll leave your ass behind. That’s a promise.” He shoves the hand back at Nick, causing him to spill some whiskey on his filthy dress shirt. Hoff picks up the glass and tosses it back and squints at the harsh taste. He clearly isn’t used to drinking like that. He sets the shot glass back down on the bar and heads for the door.
The rest of us divide up the remaining ammunition. I only have two mags for the assault rifle, and three for handgun. A couple minutes later we all assemble near the doors.
“I want everyone single file,” Hoff instructs. “Leave a few paces between the person in front of you.” He glances at Stevie, then at his dad.
“He going to be able to keep up?” Hoff asks Steven.
“We’ll try,” Steven says.
Hoff spits a sunflower seed shell onto the ground and stares at it as he scratches his temple with his index fingers a few times. He sighs and crouches down to look Stevie in the eye.
“Your dad ever give you a piggy back ride?” he asks.
Stevie looks up at his dad, then back at Hoff and shakes his head.
“Seriously?” Hoff cocks an eyebrow at Steven.
Steven shrugs and averts his gaze. Hoff shakes his head and returns his focus on Stevie.
“How about I give you one today?” Hoff grins. “That be okay?”
“I guess so,” Stevie says.
Hoff lets Stevie climb on his back. The boy clutches his hands together around the soldier's neck and wraps his legs around his midsection. The soldier leans forward slightly so that his back does the job of carrying the weight away from the little boy’s tiny arms.
“Hang on real good,” Hoff tells him.
“Good job, son,” Steven adds.
Hoff gives me a nod and I turn the key and unlock the door to the street. I push through the doorway and hold it open as Hoff leads us through the dark town.
Nineteen
With all the dead swarming into the mall, navigating the streets outside is a little more manageable that when we arrived. After everyone clears the store, I take up position at the back of the column. Hoff takes us across the street and into an outdoor courtyard mall. In the faint moonlight, it’s hard to make out many details. I just do my best to dodge the lurching shapes in the darkness. We weave between benches and food carts containing melted It
alian ice and stale churros. Within moments the dead become aware of our presence and close in around us. We have to open fire at the ones that get too close.
The brick plaza angles to the left and Hoff pauses at the corner of the building, pressing his shoulder up against the window of a candle shop. He pivots around the building and fires off several rounds into the crowd of corpses shambling in our direction. The soldier swings back around and glances to make sure everyone is still with us. He rounds the corner and runs ahead, firing with one hand as he moves and gripping Stevie’s wrists with the other.
I swivel back around and open fire at the dead that are closing on us from the rear. At first I try to carefully aim my shots to conserve ammunition, but in the darkness I might as well be firing blind. It takes several shots just to stop one of the things and they are closing in faster than I can take them down. To my right, one of the things lunges forward after I’d already shot it twice. It latches on to Nicole and shoves the woman up against the window right beside me.
I look for someone to help, but everyone else has already moved around the corner of the building. The corpse sinks its teeth into the side of her face as she lets out a scream. I bring the rifle up to shoot the thing in the head when several more bodies crash into me. The rifle fires wildly and the last thing I see before I crash into the store window is Nicole’s head exploding as a round pierces her skull. The window gives way and I topple over a glass shelving unit full of candles. I scramble to my feet and spend the rest of the bullets in the magazine blasting holes in the adjacent window. Even though the glass doesn’t give way, I don’t have a choice but to try and throw my body into the window and hope I bust through it. I lead with my shoulder and jump at the window. As my body scrapes along the sidewalk, I scurry to my feet and take off running again.
The rest of the group has already reached the street at the end of the mall. They are positioned at a clothing store at the corner. At least I hope it is them. The darkness makes it impossible to be sure. Someone fires off several rounds into the dead before they move around the building and out of sight. I eject the magazine from the rifle and reach into my pocket for a fresh one as I sprint. Sweat streaks down my face and my lungs hurt from panting. It feels like there must be slivers of glass buried in my skin, but there is no time to check. There is no time for pain. I try not to think about the fact that I just shot Nicole in the head. I’ll have to deal with that shitty feeling later.
Rise of the Dead (Book 2): Return of the Dead Page 11
