Veronica shook off her confusion as she raced down the stairs two at a time. Reaching the bottom she turned and saw the corpse of Margaret McCormack stumble at the top of the stairs. Veronica choked back stomach acids at the repulsive sight of such a dear lady now transformed into a thin, wisp of a ghoul. Veronica reached for the doorknob, her shaking hand slipping on the polished brass. The corpse held onto the railing with its right hand and slowly negotiated the stairs downward. Its eerie dead stare never leaving Veronica. Its head bobbled with each uneasy step but its eyes remained locked on a terrified Veronica. It opened its mouth instinctively drawn to the life in the girl but was interrupted by another foul cough. Dark sputum ejected outward from the force of her expulsion. More green discharge ran from the corpse’s nose, and down the valleys of the woman’s wrinkled face.
Veronica remembered that the shotgun was upstairs along with her radio. She couldn’t stomach the idea of physically challenging the frail specter. Tears blurred her vision as she knew she would have to leave the poor woman in this state. Helplessness crushed her as she turned the doorknob. Veronica looked back and saw the scarecrow-like form of Mrs. McCormack’s reach the bottom of the steps. Veronica began to hyperventilate. She thought that if this what the world has come to, where death means walking around even without being infected, then why go on. Her body shook as she wondered how bad it would hurt; how long would it take, to just let the old woman end her life. Just a little pain, some bleeding, and then she might be able to see her father again; for a moment she almost surrendered to the thought.
Then it hit her; the question of infection. Margaret wasn’t bitten, yet she was looking at her infected form not four feet away, approaching slowly. Why is she infected? She needed time to think. Veronica found her strength, threw open the front door, and exited. She pulled the heavy door shut with a loud slam. She didn’t think that a corpse could open doors. Just the same, Veronica continued backing down the porch steps. Something slapped on the door making her jump and instinctively ball-up her hands into fists. Another slap, then another, and Veronica decided that the body of the old woman wasn’t going to be lurching out the door towards her. Looking at the open garage door, Veronica dashed inside to make sure the kitchen door was secure. The inner door was closed, and on seeing it so, she slowed her run. She stood alone in the middle of the garage trying to keep from screaming.
She paced. She coughed from exertion. She ran to the door and doubled over and vomited. The involuntary effort forced more tears from her eyes but the pain in her gut, and her wound, brought her some clarity. The woman wasn’t infected, she was sure of it. Yet she changed anyway. This was important. This was a mystery; something she could hold on to. Veronica stood back up and looked at the door to the kitchen. An idea formed in her mind, a gruesome plan that she almost wished hadn’t occurred to her.
Veronica didn’t want to leave the hand radio behind. If the soldiers found it, they could listen in on the boys and possibly cause problems. She knew that she could outrun the poor old lady’s reanimated remains. All she had to do was run in through the kitchen, and back up the stairs to grab the radio and the shotgun. But the stairs presented a problem. They were the only way up or down. By the time Veronica snatched the radio and headed back down, she was sure she would have to face the creature. Then she remembered how heavy the front door was.
Veronica sprinted to the porch. She heard weak slaps and horrible, pathetic growls on the other side of the door. Veronica paced for a second, her body buzzing with the anxiety of her diversionary ruse. She wanted to scream, but clenched her fists and focused. Veronica gritted her teeth and turned the knob, pushing the door open about a foot as the creature wrapped its thin fingers around the door. She leaped off the porch and backed away. She saw the wretched face of the woman slowly emerge. Its wrinkles were deeper then before as its skin seemed to have lost any elasticity. It moved a shoulder inside the gap and outstretched its left arm. Veronica’s heart broke as she saw Margaret’s wedding ring glimmer in the sunlight. The hand that clutched at the air towards Veronica was bony and the ring moved around the digit loosely, only stopped by the thick knuckle. The specter began to worm its way outside.
Veronica started her sprint, her wounded flank giving her less trouble now as her adrenalin peaked. She flew into the kitchen, slamming the door behind her and rushed to the front room. Upon seeing that the corpse had exited the front door, Veronica changed course from the stairs towards the door. She rammed the front door closed with all her momentum. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she looked to the front window. A shadow moved closer and began pounding on the front. She turned away, leaning on the solid wood door as her heart thumped wildly.
Catching her breath, she tried to calm down but her heart was still beating loudly in her chest. She could feel the rumble of it but it was impossibly fast. As her body calmed she put two fingers to her carotid artery. Her pulse was slowing but she still experienced a powerful pulsing sensation. Then she realized the thumping was coming from outside of the house; the “Thwap-thwap-thwap” of an approaching helicopter.
*****
Mason felt a chill when he caught a glimpse of the long black shape in the sky. He saw the pylon mounted rocket pods and knew he wasn’t looking at just a transport chopper. He couldn’t blame Veronica for not knowing the difference.
“That’s a God-damned gunship!” He said and dodged the Chevy to a screeching halt under a thin sliver of trees next to the road. With the engine idle, he could now hear the distant sound of the Blackhawk’s rotors. The radio squawked to life.
“Blackjack? Do you hear me?’ Veronica’s voice was urgent, the sounds of the helicopter also coming from her microphone.
“Yeah.” He said, “I see it. Can you make it to the gate?”
“No, there’s...” Veronica struggled. “It’s Mrs. McCormack.”
“Just leave her, there’s nothing you can do about that. Run, get past the gate and meet us.” He urged.
“No. She’s... She’s one of them. She got back up even though she wasn’t infected.” Veronica finished. “There isn’t enough time. They’d see me and then come after us in the helicopter.”
Gunship, thought Mason and he thumped the radio on the steering wheel. Billy looked at him as if to say, ‘Don’t break it.’ She was right though; that Blackhawk was a flying weapons platform capable of holding a squad of heavily armed men. If it took to the air, there would be no hiding from it. It was most likely set up for infra-red and could find them even in full dark. The machine guns alone would be able to pulverize any commercial vehicle.
“Can you hide?” Mason asked.
“No. I think I’ll be all right. I’ll stick to my story like before. I’ll try to call you later.”
Mason leaned his head back on the rear window. “Okay, channel one. Conserve your batteries but we’ll be listening all night. We’ve got plenty.”
“You’re not going home?” she asked. Billy looked at Mason and shook his head.
“No, not until you’re safe.” Mason said.
“I’m sorry Jack.” She said.
“Don’t worry. We’ll get you out somehow.” He said and heard the Blackhawk’s engines cycle down. “Sneak out if you get a chance.”
The radio went silent.
Forty
Tony was a just a little bit pleased with the way the Bronco handled on the dirt path behind the high school’s baseball field. He had discovered the sweet-spot where he had just enough speed to minimize the bumps while still affording him enough control over the vehicle. It had been another hellish day, but Tony found himself in a numb sort of enjoyment of the ride. What he wasn’t enjoying was the child’s crying from the back seat. Nikki spoke loudly over the child’s cries.
“My Dad said they’ll have two ladders at the back fence. We have to climb over quick.”
“Okay when we get there, Denise goes first, then the lady with the kid. Up the ladder and hand the kid to Denise when you’re on top. T
hen you Nikki.”
“Oh my God!” Denise shouted looking back at a small group of creatures stumbling around the corner fence. “That’s Mr. McGill. He lives upstairs from me.” The last part of her sentence turned into a sad blubber. Tony saw two figures inside perimeter carrying long ladders, running towards the fence about twenty yards ahead.
“We’ll be okay, they won’t get near us. Just concentrate on moving carefully.” Nikki said.
Tony brought the Bronco to a stop just as a long ladder gently lowered on the outside of the fence. He opened the driver’s side door and moved the seat to allow Denise and the still unnamed nurse to get out. She handed him the baby almost causing Tony to take a step back rather then accept the child. He awkwardly took hold of the child under its arms and held it far from his body. Seeing the small mob of dead in the distance spurred him to move faster. He handed the child to Denise and she let the other woman climb over first. Tony then held the ladder for Denise as she ascended the ladder to hand off the child. A small grey-haired man on the other side of the fence looked anxiously at Tony.
Nikki exited her door and brought her twenty-two to her shoulder. The dead were approaching but still far away. She let the rifle down and locked her door. When she moved around the front of the Bronco, the grey-haired man saw her.
“Nicole? What are you wearing?” He said.
“Papa!” she said and looked at her make-shift protective gear; Boots, elbow pads, gloves and guns. “It’s for protection.”
“Get over this fence now!” he urged climbing the ladder on his side almost to the top. She scurried to the ladder and handed Tony her twenty-two until she was over the fence. Her father hugged her hard, rustling her protective gear.
As Andy lumbered over the fence, Tony spoke.
“How much time I got?” he asked as he began to remove sleeping bags stuffed with looted merchandise from the sporting goods store. He swung one heavy bag up and over the ten foot fence.
“Uh, I don’t know.” Andy said. Nikki pulled away from her father for a moment as Tony removed another bag.
“A minute maybe.” Nikki said offering her estimation. Tony tossed another bag into the air; it swung wildly but landed on the other side. Nikki raised her rifle and took aim causing her father to gasp.
“Nicole, put that gun down!”
Tony locked his door and almost closed it when he stopped and grimaced.
“The baby food!” he said and returned to the cab. Nikki counted at least seven creatures, not thirty feet away. She couldn’t shoot them all if she tried. Or could she? A better idea sprang on her. She started running towards the rotting group to the horror of her father.
“Hey, over here!” She hollered as she met the mass with only the cyclone fence between them. They turned and pushed themselves into the steel mesh; fingers reaching through the wires towards her. Tony, now at the top of the ladder, handed the baby formula to Andy. He then switched sides and pulled the exposed ladder up and back over to the safety of the perimeter.
Nikki’s father ran to her position. He grabbed her with both arms and began to pull her across the field away from the fence. She struggled while being pulled backwards before planting her feet firmly, arresting her motion.
“Nicole! Don’t ever do anything like that again.” He stammered through gritted teeth.
“Its okay Papa, I know what I’m doing.” She said as she squirmed free. She stood facing him, just barely two inches shorter than him in her hiking boots. They were frozen for a moment until she reached out to him. Her father embraced her again and wiped at his eyes from over her shoulder where she couldn’t see.
*****
Alexandra walked towards the guest house with Lewis at her side. She was still processing what she had witnessed and was more then a little disturbed by her employer’s recovery. Walking the driveway she heard a banging from the house.
“Ma’am?” the Medic said.
She turned her head upwards in time to see Veronica Emmons approach the balcony of the upstairs office.
“Look out! The old lady’s down there. She’s infected.” Veronica shouted. Just then a shape poked out from the porch and shambled down the steps. Alexandra was filled with horror at the sight of the corpse; green smears under its nose and mouth. The medic stepped forward and drew an automatic pistol. The ghoul reached out as the Medic’s pistol blasted two rapid shots. The old woman’s body fell on the cement; thick fluid seeped from the ragged opening in the back of its head.
Alexandra saw the man deftly holster his pistol and was suddenly very glad that medics carried guns. Several footsteps approached her from behind. The soldiers fanned out with their weapons at the ready, covering the area like the points on a compass. Alexandra turned to see Richardson and Denkinger.
Veronica’s voice called out that she was unarmed. She walked slowly down the steps with her hands up and ignored the men. Instead she stood above the fallen body of the old woman. She lowered her hands, obviously unable to keep them up and started to cry. She turned away and sat on the steps to the porch; all the while staring at the body. Richardson and Alexandra approached. Denkinger followed, raising an arm and making a circular motion to his men to begin a search. The Medic remained.
“What happened to this lady?” Richardson demanded.
“She passed away. Her heart gave out.” Veronica spoke with a quiet, almost detached voice. “Then after two hours… She got back up.” Richardson turned to Denkinger.
“Prepare two graves.” He said. Then turned back to Veronica, “I’m sorry she didn’t make it.” He said and then turned coldly to leave.
Veronica sprung up. Denkinger snapped his weapon towards her with a metallic sound.
“You don’t understand” she said. “She wasn’t infected but she came back anyway.”
Richardson turned and looked at the body. Alexandra wondered if it could be true.
“Certainly she was, perhaps you just didn’t notice.” Richardson dismissed.
“Your medic; he examined her.” Veronica said pointing to the man. He looked at the corpse and nodded.
“It’s true sir. The patient had no fever.” He said. “Which would be inconsistent with the briefing we received this morning.”
“You have to call someone; the government, they’ll know what this means.” Veronica pleaded.
“What does it mean?” Richardson asked. Veronica deflated and sat back down on the steps exhausted.
“It means that whatever is causing the infection; this pathogen; has gone airborne.” Veronica said. “We could be breathing it in now.” She shook her head with a defeated smile and looked at Richardson. He backed up two steps and then turned to Alexandra.
“Make the call.” He said and tried to conceal his hasty departure. Alexandra nodded and reached for her phone.
*****
Tony had tried for the better part of an hour to raise Mason on the radio. From the roof of the gym, he scanned the roadway for any vehicles and saw nothing. With such a long period of radio silence Tony was now considering going back out into the town to search for his friends. He checked the radio and called out again, alternating between both channels and then waiting a minute for a reply.
“If you copy this transmission and cannot send, honk your horn once.” He sent out on channel one and then listened carefully. The sun was falling and the town was quiet save for the rustling of dead bodies and their flesh-longing moans outside the fence. No car horn was heard and the radio was quiet. He sighed angrily and looked out towards the rear of the high school. Three dead figures tugged at the cyclone fence near the Bronco; the others had moved off in another direction. He would have to take care of those three fast and get in the Bronco without alerting Nikki to what he was doing. There was no way he was going to risk her following him now. She was down in the cafeteria having a tearful reunion with her parents. Tony didn’t want to put in any more danger. If she knew he was going back out, she just might try to come along.
�
��Blackjack, do you copy?” he tried on channel two, wondering how he would get back into the school if he left. The radio squawked with an incoming transmission.
“Hello.” The voice was female but unfamiliar to him.
“Who’s this?” He asked.
“He said I shouldn’t say anything specific but that you could call me Frenchie” Said the voice with a hint of frustration. “Which I think is a bullshit handle.”
Tony laughed; it was the pink-haired girl from the bowling alley.
“But Frenchie was the coolest of the Pink Ladies.”
“No she wasn’t. Sandy was.” She sounded upset.
“Sandy wasn’t a pink lady. She just hung out with them.” He countered.
“Oh.” She said almost upset but defeated. “Well, anyways. He said to call you.”
“Who is He?” Tony said enjoying the ruse. He wished Nikki was here to watch him make up fake code on the fly.
“He said to call him Blackjack.”
“Why doesn’t he call me himself?” Tony asked.
“He left. He dropped off…” She hesitated for a moment, “he dropped off Black-Bill, then asked me for some cleaning supplies and took back off. He seems kinda mad.”
Great, Jack’s pissed. What else is new? He thought.
“Wait, where’s…” Tony couldn’t think of a codename for Veronica. “Is that all who’s there?”
“Hold on, I wrote it down. Blackjack said that they were too late and that they couldn’t secure the objective.” She said.
Rise & Walk (Book 2): Pathogen Page 27
