An absence of sound left enough room for my fucking imagination to eat away at me. We slowed our pace a bit towards the end of the courtyard area. On both sides we were flanked by trees, which were normally so beautiful. Now they were bare with a winter gloom suitable for the death befalling this city. I started to become acutely aware of a distant clatter to the east then.
The moment took me back to a memory of standing on the banks of the Swift Creek Reservoir, hearing the marching band drum line practicing miles away at my high school. Anywhere along the banks it was an unavoidable noise. Banging like that through distance turned into a droning echo.
I shook with the realization that the only drums sounding now were that of undead fists pounding to get at trapped souls. Barely a block away from where we stood was Gladding Residence Center, the dorm where a handful of students and a few officers awaited rescue. By the ruckus echoing from the area it sounded like they had drawn every infected in the area. That place was a tomb, and I doubted rescue would ever arrive.
Once again we were put at an advantage at the expense of others. If the dorm wasn’t such an appetizing target we would be overrun. I couldn’t allow myself to feel the weight of the lives, which were likely lost, just to our east. All that mattered was survival.
My thoughts were interrupted by a much closer racket. I looked over my shoulder and saw a housekeeper banging on the glass from inside the second floor of the Student Commons. He probably would have been visually pegged as a zombie, even if one of his arms hadn’t been missing. A black stain ran the entire length of his left side from the ragged stump. The handicapped creature pounded furiously at the sight of two meals walking past his window.
A smirk forced its way over me from the sight of the gruesomely pathetic display. Lance saw it too and had the same twisted joy on his face. The gimpy zombie started getting a little more animated when we stopped to evaluate him. As the noise went up a few decibels, the fear of others being alerted made us move on.
Nervousness had become redundant by the time we reached the crossing at Linden and Main streets. Before the world went to hell, this crosswalk was one of the busiest in the area. There was a stop light there simply for foot traffic and the students didn’t believe in yielding to traffic, so they pretty much walked through whenever they pleased.
It struck me that this was probably the only stretch of road not clogged with cars. We were exposed - completely. A step farther and we were in an open intersection, an inviting buffet for every infected in sight. Our proximity to the ever present drumming of dead flesh on hopeless walls brought my hypertension to palpable levels.
Lance motioned for me to walk next to him, rather than a few steps behind. I can only assume this was so that we look like less of a target from anything looking at us up the street. Main Street was pretty much a straight line for a few miles. Any zombies within two or three blocks would likely see us crossing if they happened to glance in our direction. He started a physical countdown from three to one with his fingers to signal when we should start across the street. Our entire trek through this budding wasteland had felt like an eternity. My mind took the short moment as an excuse to wander. How long had we been out here? How long since I’d been home? Today had been such a flood of emotions that my thoughts couldn’t seem to process the flow of time.
The last gloved finger went into his fist and we stepped off the curb almost in sync. We kept a moderate pace while every impulse firing in my brain was screaming to run. About five feet into the street I glanced to my left, past Lance, towards the racket around the dorm, immediately regretting my curiosity.
A putrid mass of infected had gathered, thicker than the morning fog not even a block away. Individual shapes were difficult to discern through the density and writhing of the group. They had swarmed around the dorm, eager for the meal barricaded within.
The only urge stronger than the one to stare at this horror was the one propelling me out of this city. Lingering in the street would mean certain death. With that many infected in one spot it was likely we had already been spotted.
I focused on the path ahead of us. A few more feet and we were over the curb, greatly relieved by the concealment of a building in both directions. My quick look to the east while crossing the street was the only time I looked. I’m sure we were now being pursued – I didn’t need visual confirmation to know it. Either way, our priority of escape hadn’t changed.
Linden Street continued southbound another two blocks. The first block remained a bricked pedestrian walkway up to its intersection of Cary Street. After Cary it accepted vehicle traffic for a short block before ending at the Downtown Expressway. The Expressway had been our goal this entire time; it acted as a southern boundary for the University.
All the classroom buildings in this area were linked by walkways. We could have traversed half the distance indoors just by using these walkways. As easy as that may sound, we had no idea what was lurking in those buildings. At least the outdoor travel was quick and we could see what was coming.
After walking under the three-story walkway connecting the buildings on this side of the street, I squinted at the joyous sight beyond us. I was so excited to see the fence for the Expressway in my distant view, I nearly missed Lance making a sudden detour to the right. He caught my hesitation and muttered, “More cover this way… I have a plan.”
Directly to our right was the entrance to a courtyard that was closely bordered by a few large classroom buildings. Lance was right, once we were in the courtyard the only way to see us was to be looking out from a building or very close by. This gave us a little breathing room from being seen by the crowd we just passed or any random zombies that were in hiding.
The area was darker than others we had traveled through. With the sun low on the horizon still and the mix of fog and airborne remnants of devastation it would probably be midday before visibility was better. Lance motioned towards a bench surrounded by the dry winter’s grass. I knew our break would be short, but my body was screaming for a reprieve from this day.
Chapter 12
Premeditated
0837 hours:
“We can only sit for a second,” Lance whispered. “We’re almost to the Cary Street field. The fence is high and solid there. I figure we can take a real break inside and plan what’s next. Do you think you’ll be able to scale the fence? I doubt we’ll be given the luxury of using the gate.”
“I’ll make it over. The thought of a fence between us and them is a nice one,” I said through exaggerated breaths. “Did you see what was going on by GRC?”
His face was blanketed in sorrow. “Yeah I saw them. I’m not sure the army could even get to everyone inside...” He trailed off.
A police department is like a dysfunctional family. All issues aside, nothing could change that we were all part of that family.
“Do you think they saw us?” I asked him.
The fact that Lance was already standing and tightening the strap on his pack spoke louder than his one word answer. “Definitely.”
Our target was at the southwest corner of the courtyard. Two classroom buildings converged there and another walkway passed over the sidewalk. The breezeway was the narrowest entrance to the area but it also was the gateway to the wide open fridges of the university. The Cary Street field, Lance’s goal for a safe break, was just across the street from the narrowed passage. Hurriedly, we made our way across the grass towards the darkened corner. Lance was a few steps in front of me.
I had begun to adjust the position of my scabbard to my right when Lance stopped in his tracks. He held out his left arm and I bumped into him. Sheer luck prevented me from knocking us both over. I knew better than to voice any protest, something was very wrong. I looked past Lance, beyond the slight cover of a shrub, and saw our new obstacle. Two infected stood in the narrow breezeway. If they had been facing us we would not have had the liberty of standing nearby to plan. From behind, they looked like normal people. I could only gues
s what the front view held. The poor lighting in the passageway kept from seeing any small details in their motion. However, the awkward angle they both stood at gave them away as being undead. If anything, their normal appearance was what made what we had to do so disturbing.
Lance stealthily removed his ASP from its holster on his left side. The fact his sidearm remained holstered indicated how he wanted this to go down. He gripped the metal cylinder in a fist. We were too close for him to extend the baton. Its distinctive clink would easily give us away at this distance.
I pulled the Kukri from its sheath. My body stance changed with its absence from my belt and I experienced a vulnerability I had not felt all morning. I gripped the solid handle, my confidence slightly restored with the sight of the thick curved blade.
With the element of surprise still on our side, there was no point in waiting. About ten feet ahead of us the walkway split into stairs and a handicap ramp. A metal railing rose from the split and trailed the ramp down, past the breezeway, until the path became whole again. The ghouls stood just a few feet beyond the dividing railing.
Lance pointed his free hand towards me, then towards the reaper on the ramp to the left. He nodded quickly in an act of self-recognition and motioned to the creature standing a step down on the right. I took a deep breath and prepared myself to attack a human form premeditatedly for the first time in my life. A mental block took hold of my thoughts from the gravity of such an action.
Again, I watched as a gloved hand rose to do a silent countdown towards action. My heart was beating so hard I felt like it would burst from my body. There must have been a hundred drumming beats within my chest between Lance’s count of three…two…
The countdown ceased. Our attention turned completely around towards the corner of the courtyard, where we first entered. A crowd of at least six infected had shambled their way into our temporary sanctuary. Sounds of their pursuit hadn’t reached us yet, but I knew we had few seconds before they would alert the targets in front of us.
We exchanged a second’s glance before bolting into action. Quick steps brought us to our victims in half a second. I raised the Kukri above my head and propelled it downward with all my might. The widened end of my blade struck the once human figure before me in the back of the head. It connected at the skull right below the ear line. My blurred vision and the poor lighting spared me from full recognition of what I had done.
I felt like the steel became an extension of my own arm. The sensation of connection between metal and flesh was as curious as it was evil. It reminded me of slashing at a partially frozen pumpkin. The blade undoubtedly cracked through the skull, blending whatever remained inside, and passed through the creature’s left. Needless to say, the deed was done.
In the fight to pass this undead obstacle, I never completely saw what Lance had done. I assume the pop I heard was that of his closed baton punching through the zombie’s head. His target fell to the side as he passed.
Mine fell forward on its face. I caught a glimpse of the new shape I had made out of this poor soul. The Kukri did exactly what it was designed to do and passed clear through the skull. I didn’t quite decapitate it, although the way the head snapped forward reminded me of a Pez dispenser.
I leapt over my victim and ran from the shade into the birthing light of the morning. We rounded the corner and saw the fence guarding the Cary Street field. There were three zombies scattered between us and the field. Our original pursuers were probably nearing the end of the courtyard behind us.
Lance flicked his ASP baton to its proper length. He headed towards the infected standing closest to the fence. The other two were off to the side, closer to me. They were not as close as the one by the fence, but knowing their capacity to lunge I knew I would have to deal with at least one.
The trio saw our approach and moved to intercept. Lance reached the fence and swung his weapon with the force of a baseball bat. Its head caved in and Lance was scaling the fence before the zombie’s body even hit the ground.
My target was a guy wearing a maintenance jumpsuit. The light blue color was unrecognizable from the dark stains and gore that splotched his person. I don’t think he had been “dead” long. His speed and moderate dexterity indicated that humanity had left him not long before. There wasn’t a visible bite wound, but it’s not like I was given the liberty of looking for long.
The Kukri met his right temple with the impact of shattering a clay pot. I could not be spared from details now in the brightness of a cloudy morning. The blade exited in a trail of bone, flesh, and indistinguishably dark muck. His scalp flipped back and the creature fell.
While my right arm was still in the final points of its swing, the second beast closed the gap between us with a lunge. This one was not nearly as fresh. He wore a filthy gray polo, covered in spots by the tatters of a pea coat. Scratches, head to toe, covered his person. It looked like in either life or un-death he’d fought an army of cats. He was nearly upon me, and there was no time to return to an ideal attack stance. I flipped the blade in my grip and threw my arm out in the same motion you would toss a Frisbee. Steel met his cheek and passed through jaws of rabid teeth. I wish to God that this could have been a fatal blow.
The strike threw him off balance for a second but he was still standing. The moment the creature turned back for another attack is a moment I was fortunate to have nothing in my stomach. Its cheek line had been completely sliced open. Now the zombie’s mouth had a gape that hung twice as wide as before. All the while, the man continued to snap his jaw in excitement at the prospect of a meal. A bloated tongue moved around the opening so franticly that if the jaws were able to close it would be snapped off.
Its injury was no deterrent. In the mind of this creature, driving hunger was all that mattered. As the ghoul turned to attack me once more I wildly swung my Kukri. The strike lacked calculation – I just wanted this horrible sight to be gone. My grip loosened enough for the blade to turn, and the broad side of the weapon struck the man’s temple. Such an impact would have put a living soul into a coma. The force of it reverberated through my arm. I knew I would be hurting if my adrenaline ever subsided.
My attacker slumped over the curb. Not knowing if the vicious slap did the job, I moved over him to finish the job. Both hands gripped the handle and raised the blade to chest level in preparation for a fatal stab.
“NATHAN!” Lance shouted from the other side of the fence. I looked up from my rage to see him pointing back towards the courtyard exit. The dead were spilling from the breezeway. A dozen infected were stumbling down the hill towards me.
The blade dripped blackened blood and bits of tissue over the motionless human form beneath me. Is that what I was turning into? So caught up in a rage that I nearly missed death itself barreling down the hill towards me?
I bolted to the point in the fence where Lance eagerly stood on the other side. Within seconds I was looking up at the eight foot chain link barrier before me. My right hand was gripped tightly in fusion with the handle of my lethal salvation. The Kukri was coated in gore. It looked like it had been used to stir a vat of tar and blood. Even with the intensity of the moment I couldn’t bring myself to re-sheath the weapon in such a state.
My right arm was like silly putty. I waved Lance to the side and with a rubbery throw, tossed the blade over the fence. It sliced through the air just as easily as it recently had with skulls and speared into the ground about ten feet into the field. The dead were seconds away from their lunging distance behind me.
I began my ascent. The chain metal fence was cool, refreshing even, within my fervent grip. A couple feet up, I looked over my shoulder. They were nearly here. Panic caused a misstep and I suddenly found myself back on the sidewalk.
The fall brought me almost directly on top of the edacious pack leader. It looked like she hadn’t been dead for long. The speed she was able to muster in pursuit of me gave her a good thirty second lead ahead of the rest. If my sudden fall hadn’t thrown he
r off as much as it did me, I would be dead.
She hesitated. Maybe her infected mind was unable to process the new opportunity sitting within arms’ reach. I frantically pawed behind my back with my left arm; my right was still clinging to the fence. Desperate fingers found the end of the mini-crowbar protruding from the backpack where the two zippers converged.
I swung the crowbar in a wide and wild arc. It connected with the woman’s neck so forcefully that the creature’s spine bent to a ninety degree angle. She bounced to the fence and landed awkwardly on the sidewalk.
Death was seconds away. I turned to the fence to see my partner with his gun drawn. He was aiming past me at the zombies and their collision course.
“No wait!” I yelled and jumped at the fence. Using the crowbar to hook a higher part of the chain link, I gave myself the split second that compensated for my first failed attempt.
This time I fell to the grass on the other side. The infected were lunging at the fence before I even hit the ground. And hit the ground I did… hard. The fall knocked the wind out of me, filling my sight with a blinding flash. All I could hear was metal shaking and the nauseating ruckus of the infected.
Lance grabbed both the handle to my backpack and the collar of my jacket and dragged me across the field towards the two small buildings at the corner of the protected boundary. It was difficult to take my eyes off of the fence. Zombies lined the area where we had stood, shaking the chain links violently. I knew the fence was solid; it would take hundreds more to break through.
Something to the side caught my attention enough to break the stare. The Kukri stood parallel in the ground beside me, its blade pointing southward towards home. “I’m good, man. I can walk,” I said, finally catching my breath.
The Reaper Virus Page 12
