by Brown, TW
At last, one of the keys opened the lock. Vix held her breath and pushed the door open. The room was pitch black and had absolutely no windows.
“Well of course it doesn’t, you silly git,” she murmured. Wouldn’t do good to lock a historical treasure or piece of art in a room where any cat burglar could just pop in through the window.
Moving into the room, Vix waved the torch around slowly. It was just an office! She saw a desk and a bench against one wall. Moving in further, she discovered another door. Just as she began trying the keys again, Gemma entered.
“You have to come,” Gemma managed through ragged gasps for breath.
“No,” Vix countered, “what I have to do is open this door.”
A scream from down the hall cut off whatever Gemma was about to say next. Vix spun at the scream.
“Is that Harold?” she asked.
“Yes, that is what I was saying. He is trapped. The big—”
Another scream cut her off, this one much louder and full of fear as much as pain. Vix snarled and bolted for the door, practically knocking Gemma aside in the process. She stepped back into the dark hallway and looked towards the rectangle of dimness that indicated the end of the corridor. As she looked, a handful of dark figures shambled past towards the direction they had come in from.
Vix began to jog to the end, her grip tightening on the hilt of her machete. She could hear somebody, obviously Harold, as he cried and swore. She didn’t need to look to know what she would see when she stepped around the corner.
Just as she reached the end, another zombie stepped into view. Vix stabbed the monster in the side of the head and yanked her arm back in preparation of what might come next.
When she stepped out into the open chamber that had several halls leading off of it as well as two flights of stairs leading to display rooms above, she saw Harold standing in a long-since dried up fountain’s collection pool. He was bleeding from a nasty rip on his sword arm just below the elbow. A dozen bodies were sprawled at his feet. She ran up behind the closest zombie between them and split its skull.
“Vix!” Harold exclaimed. “What the blazes are you doing?”
“Coming to save your worthless arse.”
“No,” he insisted. “Go back…I’ll catch up.” To emphasize his point, he decapitated one zombie on the word “no” and another on the word “up.”
“You won’t be doing much more than bleeding to death.”
“You don’t understand,” Harold wheezed as he chopped down another and kicked one away with his big, booted foot.
I understand I’m talking to a dead man, Vix sighed inwardly. She took out another, but she saw several dozen coming in from the main entry. That would be the pack that they had gained while running through the streets.
“I understand that you have a finite supply of blood, Mr. Wentz. I was a nurse before all this.”
“Hey, you two,” Gemma called from the hallway. “Could you both pick a time to run…like now! Those filthy things are pouring in the front door. Pretty soon you’ll both be joining them provided they leave enough.”
“You heard her,” Harold said as he stepped over the lip of the tile-lined fountain pool, the sound of skittering coins mixing in with the growing volume of the cries of the undead.
They ran down the hallway and into the room Vix had unlocked. She closed the door behind them and locked it again, hoping that it would keep the horde of zombies on their tail from gaining access.
Once through the second door, they were greeted by a flight of stairs going down. Vix had Gemma lead the way, making an excuse to be in the rear. As they wound their way down the spiral stairs, Vix steeled herself for what she saw as her duty. While she didn’t really know the young man that well, he seemed like a nice enough bloke.
What a shame, she thought as she drew her arm back in preparation of splitting his head down the middle. Without warning, Harold spun on her and caught her wrist.
“How about you not do that just yet,” he said. “And next time you want to take a fella from behind, make sure you aren’t casting a five meter shadow on the wall.”
Vix looked up to see them perfectly cast by the torchlight as dark characters on the gray surface of the wall. She pulled her hand away and gave Harold a nasty scowl.
“I wanted to save you the suffering,” she said.
“And I appreciate it.” Harold let go of Vix’s arm and stepped back.
He rolled up the sleeve on his other arm. Vix let out a gasp and staggered back a step. Harold actually had to reach forward and grab her to keep her from falling over.
“Me own mum,” he said sadly. “But I didn’t even hardly get sick. Took forever to heal, but I feel good as ever.”
Harold’s left arm looked like it had lost a fight with a food processor. The skin was all puckered from elbow to wrist with big divots. In the torchlight, it looked purple.
He tugged the sleeve down and raised an eyebrow at the arm Vix still held partially cocked back as if to strike. She looked at it like she hadn’t realized it was there and gave a sheepish grin as she dropped it to her side. They continued down the stairs and joined Gemma on a landing that looked out into an open storage room about the size of two tennis courts.
“This?” Gemma turned to face the other two. “This is what we came for?”
“You damn right,” Vix said as she passed the open-mouthed girl and came to a stop at the first Plexiglas case. It stood just about seven feet tall. Inside was a sparkling suit of armor with its mailed gauntlets holding a long sword that seemed to double the reflection of the torch in its polished blade.
“I give you…Excalibur,” Harold breathed.
***
Teams worked around the clock on the canal. It didn’t take long for the noise and activity to attract unwelcome attention. Jody and Danny spent every waking moment either killing zombies or helping with the back-breaking work involved.
“This is a lot more difficult than just digging a ditch or latrine hole,” Danny grumbled one day. He climbed up out of the trench and looked first back towards their community, then back towards the river that was their ultimate destination.
“Got anything left in that canteen?” Jody asked, shaking his to show that it was empty.
“A few swallows.” Danny shook his own to indicate how low he was on water.
“Wouldn’t think you could get so damn hot when it is so freakin’ cold,” George said as he stood up and took a long draw from his canteen before passing it to Jody.
“Doesn’t help that we ran out of gas with less than a quarter of this thing done,” another man grumbled as he drove his pick into the ground and stood to join the others in the water break.
“Yeah, great idea to be out in this rain and cold,” another voice joined in.
Jody felt his hands tighten on the handle of his shovel. Not for the first time, he wondered if anybody would really be that upset if he just took Mister Remar Jenks out once and for all. From what he had seen, the man was not popular with anybody. Anytime there were “community functions” like the weekly potluck supper, he either complained…or didn’t bother to help with anything but the eating.
That comment seemed to put an end to the pleasant little break. The work resumed until near dark. Each man climbed out of the trench with a resigned sigh, knowing that he would be back at dawn to resume. The other teams involved in other aspects of the canal such as compacting, laying gravel and the eventual concrete fell in beside the diggers as they passed.
“Been sorta quiet,” Danny said to nobody in particular as they reached the barricade to the town.
“Why’d you go and say that?” George moaned. “We all know it has been sorta peaceful…no walkers in almost a week. Now you went and jinxed it.”
But that did not prove to be the case. The days continued with the hard work and the gradual warming as winter began to loosen its grip. As the canal neared completion, the entire little community became more and more excited.
The lack of walkers eventually had folks venturing outside of the relative safety of the perimeter to watch and even help where they could.
The closer they came to done, it seemed the more conversation turned to making a run on Jonesboro. Jody and Danny tried to stay out of the conversation as much as possible, but Selina seemed to hold no such reservations. In fact, Jody noticed that she eventually took over the planning of what would be the next big operation involving the people of Cash, Arkansas.
Oddly enough—or maybe not considering—there was one person who remained silent during the entire process except when the call came for volunteers. When it was suggested that two teams go in separately, Remar Jenks insisted that he lead one. Because it could not be disputed that he was one of the best with a composite bow, there was little that anybody could say.
Still, Jody wasn’t too worried. The consensus was that they would build wagons. They would need to be light enough for people to haul, but sturdy enough to take a load big enough worth making the trip. That would take time. For now, he just wanted to sit back and catch his breath. It looked like they would survive the winter using the supplies at hand with a little bit of rationing, and farms would be in full swing come the spring.
Sitting on his perch in the lookout tower, he smiled as the sun began to set, painting the sky in a myriad of reds and purples. The sounds of people calling to each other as they passed on the street gave things a sense of normal. He knew it would not last forever, but he was content enough to let it last for now.
***
“At least three days,” Major Beers hissed, her voice barely above a whisper.
Not that her speaking voice would be that much louder, she mused bitterly. The last of the water in their canteens had been gone since early this morning. If they would have known that they would be stuck for this long, she would have been much more sparing early on.
The memory of pouring a handful of the precious liquid so she could wash her face was infuriating. She glanced at the woman who looked to be sleeping just a few feet away. That only made her angrier.
Suzi had led her up here and insisted that they could travel across a conveyer that spanned between two buildings. From there, they would simply have to make their way down and they could take off into the forested hills that bordered the backside of this defunct power plant. What she had failed to mention was the huge fenced lot they would need to cross in order to make that a possibility.
They had gone out to the conveyer and Major Beers was shocked. She had expected the undead to diffuse, but there were just so many. And now there were hundreds if not thousands of them wandering down below. Even worse, they were not drawn to the fences and so seemed content to just wander around like the mindless sacks of rotten meat that they are.
The first night had been aggravating; the second seemed worse because a terrible wind had whipped up and these buildings had too many openings which allowed for a draft that carried a stench so overwhelming that both women had been sick. Of course they had each rinsed their mouths out with the precious water.
Light was coming through every crack and opening now. As had been the case the past couple of days, when Major Beers looked outside, the undead remained. The horde had moved on, but there had been so many, that the ones who remained still constituted a larger group than any she had encountered.
She moved out further onto the conveyer and tried to get a better look in hopes that the situation had improved. She wasn’t surprised to discover that it had not. This meant that she might finally have met her end. The undead were everywhere, and while you could move past a few, in concentrations such as this, there was little chance that you would make it.
She was already feeling the effects of no food and very little water. She knew very well that, while starvation was a good ways away, it was the lack of water that would bring her demise. And even worse, they could not get to any of the snow. She would willingly drink dirty water in sips for a few days. And, of all times, the sun took now to come out and shine.
Her hand touched the hilt of the blade at her side. If it was to end, she would have it on her terms.
“Go ahead,” a voice said from behind her.
Major Beers looked over her shoulder to see Suzi standing at the ledge beside where the conveyer ran from the building they were trapped in.
“Go ahead and what?” the major growled. She went to throw her leg over and turn around to come back.
“Ah-ah,” Suzi cautioned.
The major’s head whipped back around. The woman, Suzi McFarlane stared back at her with absolutely no emotion. However, she did hold a long steel rod in her hands.
“And what do you hope to accomplish?” Major Beers challenged. “The way is blocked, two people have little chance of making it. One…well, one will find it impossible.”
“The way I showed you is blocked,” Suzi said, the first hint of a smile curving her lips.
“So what…did I kill one of your friends? A man?” The major gave Suzi a hard glare. “A woman?”
“Nothing quite so grand,” Suzi laughed. “I read that line in a book once…always wished I would have the chance to say it. Anyways, it really only comes down to the fact that you taught me well in our short time together.”
“Is that right?”
“You taught me that it was all about ensuring my survival first and foremost…let the others worry about what happens next.”
“Then you should have paid closer attention,” the major said as she whipped up her pistol and pulled the trigger.
Nothing.
“I paid closer attention than you realized,” Suzi said, the smile on her face gone.
She held up one hand with a single bullet pinched between her finger and thumb. With a flick of the wrist, she cast the bullet away. The major watched as the tiny thing caught a bit of the sun and sparkled as it plummeted to earth, disappearing under the feet of the sea of undead who still wandered aimlessly below, unaware of the drama playing out above their heads.
“So go your way,” the major said with a shrug. She tried her best to appear indifferent, but deep down, a fear was starting to grow.
“It isn’t that easy,” Suzi said after a moment of silence that was only punctuated by the cries and moans of the living dead.
“Why not?”
“Because, you are right when you say that you can’t get through these things. But…if you have a bit of a distraction…” She let that phrase hang in the air.
Major Beers took a deep breath and considered her options. If she did try to turn around and come back, she would be at a disadvantage. That left only one alternative. She would have to cross the conveyer. Of course the other building was a problem. There was no way inside that she knew of which was why they had stayed put for the past three days. Still, she could think of something once she got across. This Suzi McFarlane did not realize who she was dealing with.
Gripping the edge of the conveyer firmly, the major began to shimmy across. She scooted a few feet before looking over her shoulder. What she saw made her heart leap to her chest.
“Don’t,” was all she could say.
“Kill you?” Suzi laughed. The major didn’t like the sound of it at all.
Suzi was wearing a harness and stepping out onto the conveyer. Less than ten feet separated them. If she tried to get up, she would be knocked off. If she tried to crawl, she would not make it.
Swallowing hard, the major lunged forward and tried to put more distance between them. She knew it was futile, but made one more thrust as something solid connected hard with her side. She heard a snap in her arm and cried out. Another blow came, this one to the back of the head. The world began to swim and go dark.
“You will have to beat me to death,” the major managed through teeth clenched against the pain.
“No I won’t.”
Something slammed into the back of Major Beers’ head, and the world went dark.
When she opened her eyes, she was hanging fr
om the conveyer belt by a long piece of rope, spinning slowly in the open air. Below her, the undead writhed, a sea of hands reaching up for her in vain—their fingertips missing by just a few feet.
As she spun slowly, she thought she saw something moving down the side of one of the distant buildings. Now she knew why Suzi had laughed. She was much more useful at keeping the zombies interest while alive. Simply tossing her to the crowd would have bought no time at all.
Looking down, she could see that the undead were smashed in tight. If they had the ability to climb, they would be at her in no time. Then she noticed something. At first, she thought that she was imagining it. After a while, she knew that she was not. As some of the dead were jostled and managed to fall—as unlikely as it seemed in such a tightly packed crowd—the others were stepping on to the bodies.
Looking skyward, the major saw a distant bank of clouds moving in. She would have to fight the urge to open her mouth if they brought rain. While dying of thirst seemed like a terrible way to go, Major Wanda Beers knew that there were worse…much worse.
17
The Geek Crowns a Princess
It took over three weeks for Kevin to get comfortable with using the prosthetic. It didn’t fit all that well and hurt like crazy the first few days. He grumbled and complained, but he knew that there truly was no other choice.
When Aleah returned, they spoke at length about what had transpired in the past several days. Together, with Heather, they came to the conclusion that, while certainly with its share of downside, Kevin’s plan for Valarie was the best they could hope for in these times.
Of course Kevin continued to struggle with it. He could not help but feel as if history were in some way repeating itself. He could divorce himself from those emotions, but he also realized that the world he now lived in was a much harsher, unforgiving place. Survival truly rested on a person’s ability to be able to care for themself, even if they were with a larger group. In fact, if a single person became a threat to the larger whole, it had to be dealt with in a way that the old and supposedly civilized society would certainly frown upon.
