“That was fucked up,” John muttered.
Thuy shushed him and proceeded to lead the group to the north stairs. Once they were behind the door and somewhat safe, she felt a strange euphoric rush from being so close to death. She felt like giggling, but stifled it and forced herself to revert to form.
“We should spray ourselves down and change out our masks and gloves,” she said, her voice higher than normal. The fighting had been so close and so intense that they all agreed. The process went quickly, but not quickly enough. Thuy was just starting to get her first latex glove on when she saw a glow of light at the bottom of the stairwell door. She sucked in her breath and leaned back into Deckard, pointing at the light.
Katherine, who had her mask dangling around her neck, grabbed her M4 and pointed it at the door, whispering, “There’s one that can still talk and think. It’s…it’s evil.”
Deckard put a finger to his lips and started backing up the stairs. He had his gun pointed at the door as well and nearly pulled the trigger when Jaimee Lynn sang out, “Doctor Leeeee. I cun smell you, Dr. Lee. An’ I cun smell that man, an’ that woman, an’…an’ I cun smell…”
Before he had almost flinched off a shot. Now, he shot on purpose: BAM! The gun going off in the enclosed space almost deafened them. “Get upstairs, quick!” He was personally not afraid of Jaimee Lynn. But he knew her. He knew the sound of her voice and he was afraid what John Burke would do when he found out that was his little girl with a bloated stomach full of blood and mad, black eyes.
He fired twice more and then ran with the others. Thuy had led the way with John next to her, but she was out of shape and he was dying of lung cancer. Katherine passed them. At the third floor landing, she shot and killed two of the beasts that had been lurking in the dark. This was a reminder to put her mask on, which made breathing twice as hard, and the next two flights had her lungs billowing as she fought for air.
She paused at the top as that horrible child’s voice called up from the dark depths of the stairwell. “Daidy? Is that y’all, daidy?”
Deckard yelled, “Go!” and then turned and shot down the small opening that went from the top of the stairwell all the way to the bottom. There wasn’t anything to shoot at, he was just trying to drown out the sound of her voice.
Thuy started pushing John Burke up the stairs. She was gasping and afraid, while he was lightheaded and dazed.
It was just dawning on Katherine what the evil child was saying. She was asking for her daddy. She was asking for John Burke. Katherine had read his file as well and vaguely remembered that he had a daughter. It was no wonder that Deckard was trying to get them up the stairs as fast as possible.
But they couldn’t rush it. Even with the seconds ticking past and hundreds of zombies boiling up from the depths of the building, she knew that Anna and Eng were somewhere in the building and they were as deadly as adders. Katherine kicked open the door to the fourth floor and immediately saw Anna Holloway. She was twenty feet away, framed against a window. Although it was dark, Katherine knew that it was her.
“Freeze!” Katherine ordered and stepped out from the stairwell, and that was when she felt the barrel of a gun jab her in the back of the neck.
“No, you freeze,” Eng whispered as he grabbed the back of her armored vest and yanked her away from the door.
Katherine had not checked her six as she had been taught and was paying the price. She raised her hands, lifting the gun, hoping to be able to spin into her enemy and smash him across the face when he least expected it, however Eng kicked her in the back of the knees and dropped her.
“What are you doing?” Eng hissed to Anna, who was still standing in the doorway with her hands up. “Get over here.”
The next twenty seconds were complete confusion. Anna ran past the stairwell door just as Thuy and John Burke stepped onto the floor. Thuy only had a flashlight and John was spinning, both mentally and physically. He gaped at Anna but then saw Eng crouched behind Katherine and nearly choked. Eng had his gun pointed in such a way as to be able to shoot either Katherine or himself with just a twitch.
“Hey, Eng, I didn’t do nuffin’ to you.” He raised his hands and Anna darted forward to grab his gun.
As she did, Thuy turned in a circle, not knowing which way to turn. Everything was happening so fast. “Deckard!” she cried. “Don’t come in…”
Eng pointed his gun at her. “Yes, we don’t want him to come in. Shut the door and sit down against it. You hear that, Deckard? She’s going to be a doorstop, either dead or alive. It’s your choice.”
Deckard froze just on the threshold of the doorway. Through the crack, he could make out Eng crouched down behind the woman they had just met. In between her and the door were John and Thuy. Eng could kill all three in a blink—but he wouldn’t. He would shoot to wound so that the zombies would stop to feast and he’d be able to get away.
It was exactly what he was planning to do with Deckard. He’d be trapped in the stairwell, alone with hundreds of zombies, and the only light he’d have was the flashlight carried by Jaimee Lynn Burke. A shiver went up Deckard’s back, because he was stuck.
He had no choice except to reach out and shut the door. It didn’t shut easily and screeched like an old woman and then banged closed with a thunderous noise that marked not just the end of the day but the end of his life as well.
The sound rolled down the stairs and for a moment the zombies paused and in the silence, a hideous voice whispered from out of the darkness, “Who is that? Is that the man? I smell y’all, mister. I smell y’all’s blood.”
Chapter 26
1– Midnight and Beyond
—The Walton Facility
“That’s Jaimee Lynn,” John Burke said, his face queered up. “That’s my daughter.” The voice echoing up the stairwell was madness itself. It was impossibly evil, so how was it Jaimee Lynn’s? He had no idea, but he aimed to find out. “I gotta see my baby,” he declared, reaching for the door handle.
“Touch that door and I’ll put a bullet in your guts,” Eng said, with such cold menace that John’s hand froze inches from the door. “Is that how you want to meet her again? Bleeding and trying to hold in your intestines? I don’t think so. You heard her. She’s getting very hungry.”
“But she’s my daughter,” John said, his hand opening and closing only a fingernail’s distance from the handle. “She wouldn’t hurt me and maybe she can’t. I’m immune to that zombie stuff.” He puffed up a bit as Anna and Eng shared a quick look. “Y’all thought you’d do me like the others an’ shot me up with that zombie juice, but I didn’t get sick.”
Eng grunted out a laugh and asked, “Are you also immune to bullets? No? Then get away from the door. The only reason that any of you are still alive is that I need you to help me escape. That’s your sole purpose, now. If you keep me alive, maybe I’ll keep you alive. Any questions?”
“No, we get it,” Thuy said, quickly, not challenging the obvious lie. He wasn’t going to let any of them live. Only a fool would believe otherwise and there was no time to argue. “You’ll hurt us if we don’t cooperate.” And Deckard will die if we don’t leave as quickly as possible, she thought to herself. Only once they were gone would he be able to escape from the stairwell.
“Exactly,” Eng said, his dark eyes at squints as he smiled behind his clear mask. “Now, please get against the wall while Anna frisks you.” Thuy was the quickest to comply and her hands were on the door when Deckard fired his first shot. The vibrations of it went right into her palms and into her arms and then down into her soul. She couldn’t help the whimpering sound that slipped out of her.
“Afraid for your boyfriend?” Eng asked. “That’s sweet. Would you like to join him? You know I don’t really need you, Thuy, I have a pardon. All I have to do is bring them the Com-cells and I’m home free. Sure, I may not have the cure for the zombie disease, but I’ll be the man who cured cancer. They’re going to give me a fucking medal.”
Her eyes blazed as she looked back at him. The fury in her was so great that she almost launched herself at him. But that was what he wanted. His right arm was tense, ready to slap her square across the face, something he’d been dying to do for months. She forced her anger to drain away, leaving her with that infuriating calm that he hated.
“A medal?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “I highly doubt that since, as any actual scientist would know, the Com-cells have gone bad. They’ve been left unrefrigerated for days. I know you don’t have a Ph.D. Eng, but even a high school science teacher knows what happens to fungal agents when they assume room temperature. They multiply. The Com-cells are more than useless. They’ll likely turn any subject rabid.”
His dark eyes opened a touch wider as he realized that she was right.
“I could help you,” she said suddenly, seeing a better chance at saving Deckard. “We have all the base molecules and the prepared stem-cells here in the lab. If you let Deckard back up, I’ll make a new batch of Com-cells for you. You’ll be the man who cured cancer and maybe we can find a cure for the zombie disease as well. Think about that. Think about what a hero you’d be.”
It didn’t take more than two seconds for Eng to discard the idea. Its major flaw was that he would have to trust her. He didn’t trust anyone. He didn’t even trust his own partner in crime, Anna.
“The answer is no,” Eng said. “But, thanks for the heads up about the Com-cells and the idea about starting from scratch. Anna and I can probably figure it out without your help. Right Anna?”
Deckard fired his M4 again, causing Anna to jump. Anna had quickly frisked the three, taking Katherine’s service piece along with the M4s. Presently she stood off to the side and felt like she was losing it a little. Here they were on the fourth floor of the Walton Facility, right where everything had started. She hadn’t wanted to be a part of any of this. She had wanted to make an easy ten million and go live the life of the rich and famous. And now Eng wanted her help in recreating the Com-cell, the chemical make-up of which was so complicated that it could fill two entire blackboards?
Eng was crazy to think it was possible. She had been nothing but a research assistant with a full sweater and he had been more spy than scientist, and yet their pardon was contingent on a finding a cure. She nodded and said, “Yeah, we could do that. I’ll go get the stuff.”
“Don’t forget the organelles, they’re in the white topped tubes,” Eng yelled after her. “And the receptor cells are in the green ones.” He turned to Thuy and asked, “What was the alkaline content of the receptor solution?”
“I thought you didn’t need my help,” she answered. In reply to his swift glare, she shrugged and added, “We are on a time limit, by the way. Our helicopter has about seven minutes of fuel left, and they will leave us.” He cursed at this while she fought to maintain her composure. Seven minutes to save Deckard and escape the building. It couldn’t be done.
In the stairwell, Deckard began firing faster and faster, the tempo painfully urgent. “Please, God,” Thuy whispered. “Please, help us.” She needed a miracle, but the closest she got was Anna sprinting out of the BSL-4 labs with a full pack on her back.
“Let’s go!” Eng ordered. He felt the time getting away from them as well and jabbed John in the side with his rifle and pointed to the south stairs. John hesitated, so Anna pushed Thuy in front and she was followed by Katherine Pennock.
Despite everything happening so quickly, Katherine tried to keep her head. She stayed on the balls of her feet and looked for any chance to go after Anna’s rifle. With her broken fingers, Anna carried the M4 loosely and with a quick enough move, Katherine could snatch it from her. The problem was Eng, who looked ready to gun down anyone who made the slightest twitch.
John was third in line, dragging his feet, his mind in a whirl. A part of him didn’t want to leave the building. Ever since his wife had died, Jaimee Lynn had been his entire world. He had lived for her—and now he was going to abandon her in a building filled with zombies? It didn’t make sense, and it didn’t make sense that his little girl was craving blood. It made him sick to his stomach to think about it.
He almost felt like puking and, with every bullet Deckard fired, John’s stomach ached worse. He kept wondering: was that the bullet that killed her, or was it that one, or that one?
Eng pushed them on, hissing for them to hurry, but when they got to the stairwell, John hesitated once more. There were burnt bodies here, and piles of refuse, and the smell was enough to make him gag. “I can’t,” he whispered.
Furious over the slightest delay, Eng bashed him the back with the butt of his rifle, sending him flying down the stairs, knocking aside both Katherine and Thuy and landing among the trash.
Except where he was bleeding, John was covered head to toe in soot. Next to his hand was a four-foot length of pipe. He grabbed it and staggered to his feet, furious and ready to kill.
“Turn around and get walking or else,” Eng said, his clear mask not hiding his sneer. He raised the M4 and sighted it on John’s slight paunch.
Somewhere off to their left, Deckard’s gun was firing nonstop, and the sound was enough to drain the fight out of John. He turned and trudged down the stairs, the pipe still in his hands. They all knew he would need it when they got to the bottom. Despite his promise of keeping everyone alive, Eng would sacrifice him to get through the main floor. He would sacrifice Thuy and Katherine as well, if that’s what it took. And if they happened to still be alive when they left the building, he would probably simply murder them both anyway.
And try as she might, Thuy could not think of a way to change her fate. She almost wished for a zombie attack. Not a big one, just one big enough to distract Anna and Eng, so she could do something, though what that something was, she didn’t have a clue.
Her brain felt like mush and she hadn’t figured out even the beginnings of a plan by the time they got to the main floor, which was almost clear of zombies. The vast majority of them were two floors up going after Deckard, who was fighting a battle against terrific odds.
Here, there were maybe a dozen or so, and they were widely spaced and slow to perceive the little group.
Thuy would have attempted to run past them, but Eng was cruel. “Go on, John. This is your one chance. Kill them all and you get to live.”
John’s eyes were full of hate. “Fucking Chinaman,” he spat.
“Go,” Eng said. With the gun pointed at him, John didn’t have a choice. He hefted the pipe and started walking towards the first of the zombies, fully prepared to crush in its head, only just then Eng called out softly, “By the way, you aren’t really immune. Anna thought she was stealing the actual cure for cancer when she switched your vial of Com-cells for distilled water. So, be careful that you don’t get any blood on you.”
This stopped John in his tracks. He was suddenly breathing like he had run a mile. “Y’alls lyin’ right? Y’all just makin’ that shit up to mess with me, right?”
Anna shook her head. “Sorry, no. I-I don’t know why I did it…it was just…you better look out.” She pointed past John to where one of the zombies was bearing down on him with its diseased claws out and ready to infect him.
“Oh shit,” John whispered and swung the pipe, but without conviction. His strength seemed to have drained from him, and the pipe merely left a groove in the thing’s cheek. He tried again, only he swung while backing away, and this strike did even less damage, and now a second zombie had joined the first.
“Fight, John!” Thuy shouted. “You can still make it to the…”
Eng slapped her hard enough to drop her to the floor. “Keep talking and you’ll join him,” he hissed, before he reached down, grabbed her and yanked her up. Her face felt like it was on fire and her head swam from the blow. Eng thrust her in front of him. “Let’s go. Move! Come on.”
They left John swinging the pipe back and forth as more and more of the zombies attacked. For a moment, Thuy was envious of him, think
ing that at least he had a fighting chance, while she was being led to the slaughter. The envious moment did not last long. They had just walked out into the night when John let out a terrified wail.
At best, he had been bitten; at worst, he was being dragged down under the weight of the pack. Thuy stumbled in fright and grief, wanting to go back for him. Eng hauled her on, hurrying through the battle-scarred grounds of the facility towards the sound of the helicopters on the other side of the fence. They could hear the rotors and the engines, but the actual choppers were unseen.
“This is good enough,” Eng said when they were in the parking lot. There were a few misshapen “partial” zombies dragging themselves at the group, but they posed no real threat. Eng was the real threat. There was only one reason to stop so close to the helicopters, he needed to tie up loose ends. Knowing this, Katherine and Thuy shared a look, each seeing the fear in the other.
“You don’t have to do this, Mister Eng,” Katherine said, speaking quickly. “You could let us go right here. Or, better yet, you could turn yourself in. There are drones above us and their cameras are rolling. They’ll see if you shoot us and your pardon only covers prior criminal acts. If you kill us, you’ll go to jail.”
Eng glanced up and, had he been perhaps two feet closer, Katherine might have gone for his gun. The glance was very quick and when he looked back at Katherine, it was with a twisted smile. “Would it be murder if I killed an infected person?” he asked. “I don’t think so, not in these times. All I have to say is that you were tragically infected while fighting off a mob of zombies. Heck, I’ll even make you a hero. I’ll say that you asked to be killed to keep the rest of America pure.”
His logic, evil as it was, could not be disputed. “Fuck you, Eng,” Katherine hissed between clenched teeth as he pointed the M4 at her face.
Not wanting to get sprayed with blood, even clean blood, Anna stepped to the side so that she was standing next to Thuy. In spite of everything she had done to survive, Anna was somewhat in shock that an execution was going to happen right in front her. “Oh shit,” she whispered, the gun in her hand all but forgotten.
The Apocalypse Crusade Day 4: War of the Undead Page 38
