He swung out into the center of the shaft, gripping tight until the swaying subsided before beginning his descent. He loosened his grip a little, sliding a few feet, and then tightening to stop his momentum. He did this a few times, so that he wouldn’t pick up too much speed and slam down into the elevator car.
When he finally reached the bottom, Kenny gently stepped off of the cable, shaking out his hands and loosening his limbs from the descent. He looked around, noticing that the car seemed like it was stuck between floors. The doors in front of him were a few feet above the top of the car, the floor at waist height.
All right, let’s see what we got, he thought, and knelt down to the trap door in the top of the car. He found the release and popped it open. The stench slapped him in the face like a wet blanket, and he jerked back, covering his mouth and nose.
There were easily a dozen zombies packed inside, writhing together in a big mass of rotted flesh. Putrid hands reached up to him, the moans and groans growing excited by the square window of fresh meat above them.
“Sorry y’all, but I think I’m gonna get off here,” he said, and waved at the excited corpses before shutting the trap door. He secured it, regardless of the fact that they wouldn’t be able to open it inside.
He pulled his knife and wedged it between the doors in front of him, digging his fingers between to pry them open like he had upstairs. They opened a lot smoother than the last ones, rolling back by themselves after the initial shove, which was good, because he needed to back up straight away.
Eight zombies stood in the hallway, quickly turning towards the noise, mouths opening with excited shrieks and moans. He scrambled to sheath his knife and pull the sledge from his back, eyes wide as saucers.
The first one staggered forward and fell into the shaft, tumbling down onto the elevator car. Like lemmings, a few more fell in after it, and Kenny frantically played whack-a-mole, smashing their heads as quickly as he could before they could get back up. Another ghoul made to step off of the platform, and he quickly thrust his hammer up, catching the falling zombie in the gut and using the momentum to flip it over his head.
The corpse flew and smacked into the cinderblock wall, tumbling headfirst down the shaft, sliding between the elevator car and the side until it’s waist. The legs stuck out of the space, wriggling all over the place, but at least the business end was secure.
Kenny turned and brought his hammer back into striking position, and a fallen zombie managed to grab his ankle, pulling its gnashing teeth closer and closer to him. He brought the hammer down on the back of its skull, and shook his foot fiercely to dislodge the tight-gripped hand.
A few more stumbled to their feet as two more fell into the door, the cluster between him and his escape growing thicker. He held his hammer out like a lance again, shoving it into the lead zombie’s chest, giving a hard shove to send it back into the other three like a battering ram. The gap between the elevator car and the wall was bigger on that side, and the quartet of dead friends crumpled into the space, plummeting into the chasm below.
He threw the hammer at the next one’s knees, tripping it right at the door. He lunged forward and grabbed it by the back of the shirt as its chest hit the floor, and yanked it down into the gap, cracking its skull on the edge of the car on the way down.
Kenny took the brief window of opportunity to haul himself up into the hallway, rolling quickly to take out the legs of the last zombie. It fell face first into the ground, and he jumped to his feet, giving it a swift kick to send it sprawling into the shaft on top of its other friends.
He looked side to side down the hallways, seeing no other immediate threats, and scrubbed his hands down his face to catch his breath. He leaned over, mind reeling with the fact that he very closely became a mid-morning snack. He stared down at the zombies on the elevator car, all of them having rightened themselves and clustered at the door, unable to climb back up. They groaned and reached for him, the sad song of hungry corpses unable to get to their meal.
“That was a whole lot closer than I would have liked,” he told them, and straightened up. He looked around and located his sledgehammer, picking it up and holding it in his fists, at the ready. He studied the signs on the wall. “Although fourth floor is definitely closer than I thought I’d gotten,” he said.
Two arrows pointed in either direction, the left reading Amenities, and the right reading Model Apartment. He took a deep breath and headed left.
“Let’s go see what this place has to offer,” he murmured, leaving his groaning dead buddies to cry after him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Floor 4
Kenny headed for the door leading to the main amenity area. He looked through the small glass panel, noting that the hallway was clear. He slipped through, closing the door silently behind him, and looked down the walkway heading to the end of the building. To the right, there were a couple of doors that led to the business center, as well as a huge conference room. To the left was an open wall, so that people could look out over the main lobby of the building.
He checked the business center first, checking to make sure there was nothing inside. He also made doubly-sure that the doors were secured, just in case something was hiding that he couldn’t see. The last thing he wanted was for a zombie conference to come shambling out to eat him while he lined up his escape.
He headed back to the left side, and stepped up to the railing overlooking the lobby. Below was the huge lounge area, with couches and recliners that stretched out another fifteen feet before another railing on the third floor, and then the main lobby was beyond that took up the remaining two floors. Part of the lobby was obscured by the giant balcony on the third floor, but he could still see the front doors leading to outside, and none of what he could see was good.
There were hundreds of zombies roaming about, many staggering in through a shattered front window on the far side. Kenny stared at it, and scrubbed his hands down his face in disbelief.
So much for walking out the front door, he thought, and took a deep breath to try to steady himself. He began to pace back and forth, tapping on the chain across his chest.
“Think Kenny, how the hell you gettin’ out of here?” he muttered as he moved. “Parking garage is out, since it’s underground. These things are bad enough i the daylight. The back exit leads straight to the beach, and I’m not about to be tryin’ to outrun these things on sand. What else is there?” He wrung his hands. “Garbage chute maybe? Nah, with my luck, that trash can will be sealed up tight. Not risking that.”
He continued to pace, and then a big green sign caught his eye. He stopped moving and stared at the arrow boasting the word Pool - 1st Floor. A smile grew on his face, the first one in what felt like forever as his chest leapt with hope.
“There you go, private staircase to the pool,” he said to himself. “It’s on the side of the building, and looks out towards the street. Get down there, hop the fence, and you’re on your way.” He jogged to the end of the hall, turning towards the door to the pool stairwell.
He slowed down and peered through the glass door, his stomach immediately sinking at the sight of dozens of zombies inside.
“Would be real nice if one of these staircases would come up empty,” he groaned, and turned back, heading to the railing with his tail between his legs. He looked over the edge, noting the ten foot drop to the floor below. Just to the left, there was a large couch directly underneath the balcony.
He pursed his lips, staring down at it, and then shook out his hands. “Yeah, I can make that.” He shook his head as he once again climbed over a railing, lowering himself to dangle off of the side like a madman. He braced himself before letting go, dropping onto the couch, and bounced a bit before landing with a dull thud on the carpeted floor.
He quickly pulled his sledgehammer from his back, whipping around in a circle just in case there had been anything out of sight from his previous vantage point. Thankfully, there was nothing on the landing with him,
and his shoulders relaxed. He kept his hammer at the ready as he headed towards the third floor amenities.
There was a massive gym on the one side, the wall to the hallway all glass from floor to ceiling, allowing him to look inside. There were coagulated smears of blood across the inside, making him clench his teeth a few times. There was movement inside, but with the low light and the obstructions of the machines, he couldn’t tell how many were in there.
You know what you gotta do, buddy, he thought, urging himself forward. Pool is on that wall, so you gotta get through ‘em.
He headed for the door, and opened it as quietly as he could, latching it behind him so that nothing could surprise him. The soft click alerted the zombies in the room, and upon closer inspection, there were three. They were all wearing mangled workout clothes, torn beaters and bloody yoga pants, spread out as if they’d been having their own undead gym class.
They all began making their way towards him from the respective spots, and Kenny made a snap decision to get rid of them while they were still far enough apart. The first one was a muscle-bound zombie that looked like it had spent half its living life lifting weights. Its right arm bulged with sinew, a wet hunk of muscle hanging by a thread from a bite wound.
Kenny lifted the hammer and clonked it on the head as it rounded a treadmill, and waited for the body to crumble before skirting the machine and heading for the next zombie. It had once been a blonde woman, matted hair tangled up in a bloodstained headband, and it reached for him, the shirt getting caught on the side of a weight machine.
Kenny swung like a baseball player, smooshing her head into the heavy weight bars, corpse slumping from the pins by the fabric of its sweatshirt. The final zombie was a tall hulking beast, staggering down the center aisle next to the cycling machines.
“Man, you are one big boy,” Kenny said, and ran through a few plays in his head. He contemplated going for a shoulder tackle to ensure a hit to the head, but instead opted to pick up a ten pound dumbbell and throw it. He managed to hit the thing directly in the face, knocking it back. It tripped over its own feet, and came crashing down onto one of the cycling machines, head cracking against one of the support bars.
Kenny jogged over and made quick work of its head, whipping around to sweep the room once more to make sure no other hulking creatures were hiding in the shadows. Once he was satisfied he was alone, he headed to the window overlooking the pool. It was a two-story drop, but this was likely as close as he was going to get. There were two zombies roaming around in the fenced-in area, but luckily not much else outside of it.
He studied the window, and then slung the sledgehammer back over his shoulder. He didn’t want to risk getting cut by the glass, so he went back for a twenty pound dumbbell and returned, hurling it at the glass wall.
The weight soared end over end through the air and crashed straight through the window, sending shards flying everywhere. As the hunks of glass settled, he stepped forward and looked through the jagged hole. The weight landed on one of the pool chairs below, narrowly missing one of the zombies looking up at him.
“Man, almost got a two for one, there,” he said, shaking his head. He sized up the pool, chewing his lip. “Maybe this isn’t the best idea, buddy.” He scratched the back of his head and then checked his watch. The timer read 1:45, and he sighed. He was burning through time.
Still got fifteen blocks and the pier to get through, he thought. Don’t really have time to be looking for another way. And he knew that there would be a hell of a lot more corpses to mosh through on the outside.
He stared down at the pool, hyper focused on the eight-foot deep end. Come on, buddy, this ain’t no different than that time in high school when Eddie Buck jumped off his parent’s house into the pool, he thought as he bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet. Just don’t pay attention to the third jump when he overshot it and broke both his heels. He did just fine the first two times. You got this.
Kenny took a deep breath, and a few steps back from the window. Before he could talk himself out of it, he sprinted forward and leapt.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl, the air whipping past him for what felt like an eternity. His aim was true though, and he landed in the center of the deep end, sending up a giant splash. He sank to the bottom rapidly—between his massive frame and the added weight of the hammer—and his trainers hit the pool floor with a moderate amount of force despite the water slowing him down. He winced as his tender quad muscle sent a painful shock up his right leg.
But he refused to drown in the apocalypse, in a damn pool in South Beach. He kicked hard despite the pain, and pulled himself up to breach the water. He hung in the center of the pool as the zombies shambled towards the noise.
“That’s it, come on,” he urged, and soon they splashed into the water. As soon as they hit the pool, Kenny swam to the shallow end and climbed out. He looked back, dripping wet, and saw the creatures sinking to the bottom, unable to stay afloat despite their lust for his flesh.
He shook himself like a dog to get rid of the excess water as he hobbled over to sit on one of the pool chairs. He massaged his quad, wincing all the while.
“Come on now,” he muttered to himself, “you weren’t hurt that bad before you were hitting pro receivers at full speed. You ain’t gonna let a cannonball into the pool do you in.”
After a few minutes of deep massage, his leg began to feel better. He knew it would be rough going, but at least he was good enough to move without limping.
“All right,” he grunted as he got to his feet. “Let’s see what calamity I have to deal with next.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ground Floor
Kenny planted his hands on the side of the six-foot tall concrete fence, and pulled himself up a bit so that he could see across the top of it. There was a small parking lot on the other side with a handful of cars, and a few dozen zombies shambling about. They were pretty spread out, despite their numbers.
Okay, get over the fence, get through them, and get to the street, he thought, worrying at his lower lip. If they’re that spread out, it shouldn’t take me more than ten minutes to get to the pier, even with my quad acting up.
He focused on the street, but between the cars, zombies, and palm trees, he couldn’t get a clear picture of what it looked like over there.
Of course, if it’s packed with them, I might be lunch. He swallowed hard, and sighed. He shook his head. He needed to think positively, if he had any chance of getting through this. He’d come this far. He needed to get to that boat. Think about cracking a beer with Captain Nicko.
He heaved up, pulling himself on top of the fence. He swung his legs over and then dropped down, feeling a twinge in his quad at the impact but shaking it off. He moved quickly to the first car, ducking behind it, and then got into a crouch, ready to sprint. The closest zombie was five yards away, and he chose his path, zig-zagging through them so that he could run to safety.
He took off, moving quickly enough that he was able to blow by the first corpse without it even knowing he was there. He moved swiftly, cutting across to avoid the next pair of creatures. Unfortunately with his speed and large frame, his footfalls weren’t silent, and many of the zombies in the lot turned towards him, moaning loudly.
He winced at the sound of their cries, especially considering a few from the street came around a beat-up sedan on the curb to see what all the fuss was about. Kenny vaulted onto the hood of the sedan, using the bumper as a springboard, and slid down the other side, hitting the grass.
He tried not to look over his shoulder, hearing the groans erupting from the excited zombies that were now chasing him. He tore through some trees and the front lawn of the building, running straight towards the road. There were several zombies across the way, but only a few on the road, thankfully.
He skidded to a stop on the sidewalk, and looked south towards the pier. He lungs nearly collapsed at the sight. The beaches weren’t the only place where it looked like Spri
ng Break. There were easily hundreds of zombies stretched over the next few blocks. Probably further, but that was what he could see. And it wasn’t pretty.
Run man, run, he urged himself, and broke into a sprint, or at least as good of a sprint as his leg would allow. As he approached the beginning of the next block, he knew he needed a game plan. Zombies all around him were turning towards the noise of footsteps and moaning brethren, and he knew soon they’d be densely together as they converged on him.
As it was, there were still gaps between the masses of rotted flesh, still room to maneuver. He needed to get into the zone, just like when he’d return kicks on special teams.
Find your lane, Kenny, and hit it hard, he thought to himself. Just like when you were on the field.
He darted across the intersection, cutting through several outstretched arms. Their fingertips brushed his shoulder, bouncing off the sledgehammer jiggling around on his back. Halfway across, he cut back when a wall of creatures came into his path. He lowered his shoulder and burst through two zombies by themselves, sending them tumbling back to the ground.
The opened a bit of a clearing for him, and Kenny darted over to the next block. It was a little more spread out than the intersection on this stretch of road, and he pumped his legs hard, sidestepping creatures as they reached out as if he were tearing with the ball for a touchdown.
At the next intersection, the wall of ghouls behind it looked impenetrable. The noise from behind him had attracted a lot of attention, it seemed, and the horde was shoulder-to-shoulder coming for him. He shook his head. He knew he’d never make it through. He turned to the right and tore down a side street.
There were random smatterings of corpses in the side street, but he ducked and dodged them easily, knocking one aside with a well-placed swing of his fist. He turned down the first alley he saw, running past dumpsters and overturned trash cans. The smell wasn’t great, but he welcomed the essence of garbage over the sickly decaying scent of zombie any day.
Dead America The Third Week (Book 4): Dead America, Miami Page 4
