by Jay Zano
“Yes, sir” Jacobs replies, turning to walk out of the room.
“Wait, I’m not done yet!”
“Sir?”
“We’re going to have to call off the sale, too.”
“Sir, I think that’s a mistake. We’re so close!”
“Jacobs, I know you put a lot of effort in here, and you’ll be rewarded, but this is the only play, right now. All eyes are on me, and I need to clean up this mess.”
“Sir, I strongly suggest you reconsider.”
“Hey, you don’t call the shots here, I do! Now, I said ‘cancel the sale’. You work for me, boy!”
Jacobs pauses for a moment to take in what Zook is telling him, then says, “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, sir.”
“You don’t tell me what to do, got it? Jacobs, I love you, but I’ll cut your throat and send you down the river if I have to.”
Jacobs pulls out a silenced 9mm handgun and points it directly at Zook.
“Whoa, whoa, calm down! Put that damn gun away!”
“You forced my hand, sir.”
“Okay, let’s talk!” Zook says shakily.
“Wow!” Jacobs says, full of confidence. “I always knew you were a coward, but I didn’t think you’d fall apart so quickly. I already see the fear in your eyes and… are you about to cry? I mean, I point a gun in your direction, and you practically piss you pants. I figured you would at least fake it for a bit!”
“Now, calm down, Jacobs. We can still make the sale. And you can get your cut.”
“Oh, I don’t care about your money. Do you honestly think I’m motivated by this sale?”
“Then, what… what do you want?” Zook responds, quivering.
“This was never about money, for me. It’s about rebooting this world, this sick damn world and the human race. I was hoping that, through your greed, you would start the apocalypse. I thought maybe you would have the balls to pull it off, but I didn’t have that much faith, so I do have my own plan B, and that’s Genesis. It’s time to end the suffering and start anew. Unfortunately, my plan B doesn’t end well for you, Zook.”
“Jacobs, please! After all I’ve done for you!”
“For me, you self-serving asshole? You’ve been nothing but rotten. You’re part of the problem; the reason I’m doing this. You and your greed, you cause nothing but destruction and mayhem.”
With his gun still trained on Zook’s head, Jacobs slowly walks towards him. Sobbing uncontrollably, Zook collapses in fear.
“Have you no balls at all?” Jacobs spits, looming over him. “All that tough talk, and here you are begging little ol’ me to spare your life. Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you.”
“Y-you’re not?”
“No, plan B is so much better than that!”
CHAPTER 27
MOVING ON UP
“ALRIGHT, EVERYONE, HERE’S the plan!” Derek says in the security control room. “I’ll take point. Zoe, Dylan, you take flank right and left. Frank, you take up the rear. You three…” He points to me, Fickle and Vegas. “…stay in the center and move when we move.”
“Wait, we don’t need you to protect us! We’ve done just fine without you, and we’ve been out there, kicking ass and taking names.”
“Come on, Tyson,” Fickle chimes in. “I think this is a good plan!”
“Of course you do; you don’t have a chance to screw it up!”
“This plan is non-negotiable,” Derek says authoritatively.
“Well, I think your plan sucks!”
To be honest, it’s a fine plan, but it’s the second time in a row that an executive decision has been made without me. I don’t like others determining my fate, and I especially don’t like it from this GI Joe.
“We gonna have a problem, son?” Derek snaps back.
“Son?” I say, taking exception. “I know you’re old as dirt, but you’re not my daddy, and I don’t take orders from you!”
Zoe walks over, puts her hand on my shoulder and says, “Listen, Tyson. I know you can handle yourself. These guys are very tactical, whereas you’re more of a raw badass. Let them do their thing. I need you to cover my six!”
Suddenly feeling better, I give Zoe a quick wink and then look past her, to where Derek is standing in his ‘Captain Morgan’ pose.
“Alright, Derek, you’re the boss,” I say. “Let’s do this!”
“Okay, our target is Zook’s private elevator, which will get us to the penthouse suit. Tyson, you want a job? Take the swipe card and open those elevator doors. We’ll hold off the zombies until we’re clear.”
“Mission accepted, Your Holiness,” I say, holding up the swipe card. Derek clearly doesn’t like my tone, but he proceeds with the plan.
“Everyone in position,” he orders, and we arrange ourselves in a ‘V’ formation, like a flock of birds. Derek holds up his hand, holds up three fingers, then two, then one and finally a solid fist. He throws the doors open and we are instantly met with what seems like hundreds of zombies. The barrage of gunfire is deafening. We slowly make our way out to the lobby. Fick, Vegas and I can’t see anything but the backs of our own security detail.
“Reloading!” Derek screams, and he and Dylan rotate positions to give him the time he needs. I have to admit, these guys are moving like a synchronized swimming team. As we make it to the halfway point, I’m feeling pretty good. I glance over to Zoe, who is impressively administering head shot after head shot. Me and this girl are going to make some fantastic babies together. I can see us at the playground, me pushing our daughter on the swing while she sits on the bench, breastfeeding our son. We blow kisses and make goofy faces at each other. I’m suddenly in complete bliss.
“I’m jammed!” Frank yells out from the back. I snap out of my daydream and turn to see Frank get overwhelmed by zombies.
“Hey, Frank’s down!” I scream at Derek. He turns quickly and assesses Frank, who is now screaming as zombies chew away his flesh.
“Sorry, Frank!” Derek yells, and then turns his gun and shoots Frank in the head. “Tyson, you take the rear!”
Shit! He snuffed out his friend, just like that. I get it: Frank was as good as dead, but Derek didn’t flinch. I wish I could have done that for Sid. I feel so terrible, knowing how he went out while I laid helpless. Sid deserved better. I find myself respecting Derek just a little. There was a lot of honor in that kill.
“I’m on it,” I shout, pulling two handguns from my waistband and firing into the zombie crowd. It’s amazing how calm I am. The blood and brain splatter does nothing to phase me at this point. Just hours before this, I would have buried my face in a pillow with shit like this. Now, I’m doing what I need for survival. I’m grateful for such a quick evolution, but terrified at the thought of never being normal again. I need to get out of my head and just focus on the job at hand; I can question my humanity, or what’s left of it, after this is over. For now, I need to focus on surviving.
“Tyson! You’re up, swipe us in!”
Just like that, we’re at the elevator. Only one casualty to get here, and my boys are still intact. Derek, Zoe and Dylan pivot, facing away from the elevator, holding off the horde. I swipe the card and the doors open. We all back in, firing until the doors close. Only then do we take a breath, and I tap Derek on the shoulder.
“Hey, man, I know that was hard. We’ve lost two, so far. Frank died a hero!”
Derek nods in appreciation, hits the top floor button and up we go.
We stand quietly in the elevator, watching each floor go by. The silence is necessary. I know Derek and Dylan are going through some shit in their heads, right now. They seem like a tight group, and the loss of Frank is probably hitting them pretty hard. Suddenly, Fickle starts yammering.
“Wait! We need to stop on the seventieth! There are survivors there!”
Derek responds, “That’s not our mission, right now.”
“Hey, I get it, you lost your friend. That sucks!” Fickle says. “But we risked our li
ves to save you, and we plan on saving more!” Fickle reaches out to hit the seventieth-floor button, but Derek smacks his hand away.
“I told you, boy, that’s not our mission!”
“Hey!” I say, feeling the need to defend Fick. “Back the hell off! This guy, right here, doesn’t want to kill anyone, he only wants to save people. Show a little respect!”
Derek looks straight ahead, makes no eye contact and says, “The mission is to get to the penthouse. We can assess from there.”
“That’s your mission,” I reply. “Ours is to stop by the seventieth floor to help more people.” I quickly press the seventieth-floor button, much to the delight of Fick, but not Derek. If looks could kill, his stare would have killed me three times already. “Listen,” I say, “we need to do this. No one is asking you to help. Fick, Vegas and I will check out the seventieth for survivors. You guys go up to the penthouse to recon or whatever it is that you plan to do up there.”
“Do what you want!” Derek says, still not making eye contact with anyone.
“I’m coming with you,” Zoe says as she starts reloading her gun.
“Zoe, I need you to stay with them,” I say. “Show them the layout.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. We can handle this.” I look over to Fick, who’s nodding frantically, and then glance to Vegas, who’s slowly shaking his head. As the elevator slows and the door opens on the seventieth floor, Fick, Vegas and I creep out.
I turn to Zoe and tell her, “After you get off, send the elevator back down to this floor. We’ll only be a few minutes.”
She nods, grabs me by my shirt and pulls me in for a passionate kiss. The door shuts on my head and reopens. It starts to close again as we continue to lock lips.
“Alright, guys!” Vegas says as he pulls me away.
“Come back safe,” she whispers as the door closes.
“It’s a date!” I say to her, and the elevator shuts completely. I feel as light as a feather. I’ve kissed a lot of women in my life, but nothing, not even my first kiss, ever compared to the overwhelming feeling that I just had.
“Okay, Romeo, let’s go!” Vegas says to pull me back to reality.
“I’m in love, guys!”
“We know. Do you think we can get through this floor alive before you start planning your family?”
“Right, let’s keep it quiet. I recall seeing survivors in the east wing. Let’s make our way there. Let’s go into stealth mode; quiet kills only.”
Vegas nods in agreement and holsters his gun. Fickle doesn’t have anything anyway, so he just tiptoes along. We come to an open conference room and notice movement. Dropping to our knees to investigate, we crawl by the executives’ posh, windowed conference room. Almost immediately, we notice three zombies wearing thousand-dollar suits and shambling about the room like mindless sleepwalkers. We’ve nearly crept by, trying not to catch their lifeless gaze, when Fickle stops dead in his tracks. Suddenly, he stands upright and stares at one of the suits ricocheting away from the corner of the room.
“Hey,” he whispers, “isn’t that…”
CHAPTER 28
ALL CAUGHT UP
I DON’T THINK I’VE sat down since this nightmare unfolded. Sitting in this conference room feels nice, with its high back chairs and my feet up on the granite table. Also, finding some cigarettes is a bonus. I don’t smoke, but hey, I’m banking that lung cancer won’t be what kills me, at this point. While puffing on a cigarette, I drop my feet from the table and lean down.
“So you see, Mr. Grand, that’s how we ended up on the seventieth floor, and how you, sir, ended up all busted up, with a golf putter up your ass.”
On the floor, a squirming Gerry Grand tries his damnedest to take a bite out of me.
“Fickle did such a number on you, man,” I say. With his arms and legs shattered, there isn’t much he can do other than moan and snap his teeth. “So, now you’re all caught up!”
Fickle and Vegas walk back into the conference room, having checked the final area for survivors.
“We couldn’t find anyone,” Fickle says. “We should get back to the penthouse.”
Suddenly, Fick is walking taller, feeling more confident about himself. Perhaps it’s poetic justice that he waited to truly pop his cherry on Grand. That guy was such an asshole to him that it allowed him to harness his inner rage.
“Sure thing, Fick!” I say as I bend down to put out my cigarette on Gerry Grand’s forehead. “See ya, asshole!”
Just as I stand up, we all hear a noise coming from one of the tall cabinets in the room.
“Did you hear that?” Vegas asks. We creep over to the cabinet; I’m armed with my paper cutter, Vegas with his table leg. I reach out and grab the cabinet door, opening it swiftly, ready to step back and pulverize whatever’s in there. It’s none other than a very terrified Kyle Thompson, the guy who Fick lost the CTO job to.
“Kyle! You okay, man?” Fickle asks.
“Fi-Fi-Fickle… Is that you? Oh my god, thank you!”
As Kyle lunges out of the cabinet and breaks down in his arms, Fickle isn’t sure how to react. He takes a moment to hug him back, but then, in a sudden move, pushes him away.
“Dude, did you shit your pants?”
“You don’t understand! Everyone just started eating each other. I’ve been hiding in that cabinet for the entire day. It was terrifying!” Kyle cries as he once again lunges forward into Fick’s arms. Fickle looks over to Vegas and I, searching for help.
“Hey, man, you wanted to save people. Here you go!” I laugh. We make our way to Zook’s elevator, Kyle leaning his head on Fick’s shoulder.
“Man, I can’t believe you lost a promotion to this guy!” Vegas states with a tone of disappointment.
“Screw you, man!” wails Kyle. “You have no idea what I’ve been through!”
“Yeah, no idea!” I quip back as I swipe for the elevator doors to open. They don’t. It doesn’t look like Zoe sent it back down like she was supposed to. As we wait in the hall, I swipe again. Nothing.
“Oh my god!” Kyle screams, huddling behind Fickle. There are five zombies making their way towards us.
“Stay quiet and calm, man,” I whisper to Kyle. “Being loud only attracts more.”
Kyle tries to cover the ridiculous whine coming out of his mouth. This shit-smelling, sniffling idiot is going to get us killed. And why didn’t Zoe send down the elevator? I hope she’s not in trouble! I’m now swiping the card frantically, trying to call the elevator while they get ever closer.
“Okay, Vegas. Let’s do this!”
We pull out our guns and start shooting. As I pull the trigger and watch each head explode in front of me, I’m overwhelmed by the smell of gunpowder, blood, brain fragments and the shit in Kyle’s pants. As they drop in front of us, more start to come out of the woodwork. We’re quickly getting overwhelmed by zombies! I run out of bullets and throw my gun to the ground, pulling out my shredder. It’s not long before Vegas is also out. We frantically slash and pummel zombie after zombie, creating a shower of blood and gore. Kyle is now sucking his thumb, rocking against the door of the elevator, but Fick is doing his best to keep the zombies at bay. Suddenly, the doors open, and we jump in, slashing and hacking as they close.
“Damn, that was close!” I say as I wipe the blood from my blade and my face. Kyle is crying like a baby on the floor, but over the sound of his sobbing, I hear something familiar.
“Shh, you guys hear that?” I ask. Kyle is still blubbering like an idiot. “Kyle, shut the hell up!”
“What is it, Tyson?” Fick responds.
“Listen!”
Everyone sits quietly for a few seconds. Even Kyle is holding his breath to listen to what’s up. As silence falls through the elevator, you can hear the muzak come through. It’s Michael Jackson’s Thriller!
“Do you hear it? This is Thriller!”
We all break into our best Thriller dances. Well, except for Kyle, who aft
er watching us mow down and chop up two dozen zombies, probably thinks we’re insane. Dancing and laughing, we make our way back up to the penthouse to make our escape.
The elevator doors open on the penthouse and I fly out to find Zoe. She greets me just as frantically.
“What happened?” I ask. “I thought you were going to send down the elevator?”
“I know, and I did, but Derek and Dylan saw a couple of people on the security monitors and wanted to help. He felt terrible about how he acted and wanted to see what he could do. He’s down on the sixty-third floor right now, and he and Dylan are on the run.”
“Okay, Vegas, go to the monitor and get a good idea of where they are! Fick, come here and turn on your video.”
Fick reaches down to turn on his camera.
“Uh oh, my battery is really low. Better make this message count!”
Fick turns on the camera and points to me as if to say ‘action’.
“Alright, everyone, listen up!” I say, taking my cue. “We’re alive and well, for the most part. We’ve found some survivors, and we’re getting a few more. We hope to save as many New Yorkers as possible, but there aren’t many left. We’re ready to get out of here any time now. Pray for us!” I nod to Fick and he shuts the camera off. “Okay, hopefully our ride is on its way. We need a few of us to stay here and hold the ’copter while we get the others! Fick, you stay here with Kyle. Zoe, Vegas and I will get Derek and Dylan!”
Fick looks desperate to go with us and tries to walk towards me, but Kyle is holding his leg.
“Please stay with me!” he begs. “I’m so scared!”
Fickle reluctantly agrees.
“Vegas,” I say, “you have an idea where they are?”
“Yep, but you’re not going to like it!”
I’m morbidly curious what could possibly be worse than what we’ve already been through.
“Tell me!”
“They’re trapped in the gym area by a bunch of huge, muscle-man zombies!”
I pause for a second, trying to digest what Vegas just told me. Apart from Fickle, who’s still being restrained by Kyle, we all run towards the security monitors. Sure enough, there are a half-dozen ’roided-up zombies beating on a door we don’t have camera access beyond.
