“Be right back,” Gary said from deep in the vent.
Gary moved backwards through the vent, dragging the mop handle with him. He did a three point turn at the junction leading back to the bathroom then headed towards the vent over the control room. When he got to the opening, he peered down at the couch and saw the crowbar. Gary worked the mop handle through the louvers, and with both arms sticking out of the vent and his face pressed up against the louvers, tried to hook the crowbar. His arms started to burn from the strain as he flailed about with the mop handle. It got to be too much and he was forced to rest. His arms really hurt and he did know how much longer he could go on. Taking a deep breath, he renewed his efforts. He started to become desperate when he heard the metal fastener on the mop handle click against the crowbar. Moving the end of the mop handle the length of the crowbar, he got to the curved end. After several unsuccessful attempts, he felt the metal triangle of the mop handle catch the curved end of the crowbar. He gingerly started to pull the mop handle back into the vent. As the crowbar hung from the mop handle, it swung in the air and threatened to come off. When it got to the top of the vent, Gary seized it like a prized possession and pulled it in.
“Better than a +5 Holy Avenger,” he said.
He clutched it to his chest and let the burn in his arms dissipate before making his way back to the opening above the supply closet.
Beverly sat on her bucket and waited. She looked up when she heard the metallic sounds of Gary approaching. Seconds later, Gary’s face appeared.
“Hey, Bev! Look out, okay? I’m gonna toss you down the crowbar!” Gary shouted.
Beverly jumped from her bucket and stood with her back against the side wall. A second later, the crowbar came shooting out from between the louvers and clanged to the floor.
“You’re the man, Gary!” Beverly said, hurriedly retrieving it.
“I’m gonna move out over the control room! See if you can pry open the door!” Gary said.
“Sounds like a plan, Gary,” Beverly said, going to work on the door.
Several minutes later, the supply closet door flew open and a sweaty, huffing Beverly ran out.
“Alright, Bev! Can you reach the vent to get this cover off? My dime should be around there somewhere… Oooh! Or you could get a screwdriver!”
Gary’s eyes peeked out from between the louvers in the vent just over the couch.
“I’ve got a better idea, Gary. Something quicker,” Beverly said.
She stood on the couch and with the curved end of the crowbar hooked the one of the louvers and pulled down. The vent cover flexed but did not break. She gritted her teeth and tightened her grip on the crowbar then jumped off the couch. The combined weight and her momentum ripped the vent from the ceiling, bursting the ductwork and sending it to the floor. Gary came spilling out, arms and legs flailing, onto the couch head first. He lay there motionless, staring up at the destroyed vent above him.
“Of course, I could’ve crawled back to the bathroom and you just opened the door,” Gary said.
Beverly looked chagrined at the bathroom door, still held closed with the other mop handle.
“Huh…” she said.
Gary rolled off the couch and stood, dusting himself off. Beverly was all action.
“Alright, Gary. Let’s get the hell out of here,” she said, gathering her things and heading for the door.
She stopped and turned when she noticed Gary had not moved. He stood in the center of the room.
“What are you doing, Gary? You need to get out of here before the meat-heads come back and lock you up again,” she said.
Gary tried to smile reassuringly at Beverly but his inner turmoil betrayed him. Beverly looked sideways at Gary then took a step closer.
“It’s the zombie apocalypse, Bev. I know that sounds crazy, but look around, the news, I mean the Undead are trying to eat people!” Gary said.
Beverly clutched her things tighter. “So what are you thinking, Gary? What does that mean?” she asked.
“It has already spread to a lot of states, including ours. In a situation like this, Homeland Security should have been here pronto to secure the infrastructure. The fact that they’re not means they have their hands full… or… If this thing plays out like all the literature says, the country is gonna fall, Bev. There won’t be anyone left except a lucky few and life is going to be very hard… like stone age hard,” Gary said.
Beverly did not take the time to question what Gary meant by zombie literature as she looked pleadingly at him.
“I’ve got to get home, Gary. I’ve got to be with my family… You understand that, right? You should get out of here too. If things are as bad as you say, there is nothing you can do to make it better,” She said.
Gary stared at Beverly in pregnant silence for several seconds.
“Bev, I’m just a Momma’s boy Nerd…”
Beverly looked at him and he knew she was about to reprimand him for running himself down. It was the other thing he really liked about her. She respected him and demanded that he respect himself. Even when all she could think about was getting home to make sure her loved ones were safe, she wasn’t going to let him get away with succumbing to the low opinions of troglodytes. He held up his hands, forestalling her need to prop him up.
“It’s okay, I love my momma, and Nerds rule,” he said.
Beverly relented as Gary continued.
“One thing Nerds do is spend a lot of time thinking and debating, and planning on things that the cool kids don’t think twice about. I know the news said this thing probably started in Colorado and has shown up in surrounding states, but… it’s not going to stop, Bev. It’s going to ravish the whole country. It will spread to the rest of the world, if it hasn’t already. There’s not going to be a lot of survivors, Bev, and those that do survive are going to be outnumbered ten thousand- No, a Hundred Thousand to one by those… Zombies when the dust settles,” he said.
Beverly’s face revealed her shock. What Gary was saying washed over her and left her cold. She had the irresistible desire to run for the door.
“A lot of things must have failed somewhere to allow whatever this is to get out. A lot more things are going to fail, Bev. The grid is going to fail. It’ll be bad enough that those left behind will have to fight to survive, they will have to do it in the dark and the cold because there will be no power. There’s no way I can prevent the grid from failing forever, but I can maybe prop it up… maybe give the handful left one less thing to worry about for awhile. Mr. Johnson was kind of a dick, but he was right, what we do here ain’t like a regular job, ya know? The Power is life,” Gary said.
Beverly was in torment. She felt the pull of what Gary was taking on, but there was only one priority for her, only one thing she could think of that demanded her vigilance and that was her husband and child.
“Gary, I…” Her words trailed off, a silent plea to be released from this burden.
“It’s okay, you need to be with your family. I got this. You need to get home,” Gary said.
For Beverly it was all her conscience needed to allow her to go.
As she turned, a thought occurred to Gary. “Your car is in employee parking, right?” Gary said.
Beverly stopped and nodded. Gary went over to the far wall where several sets of keys were hanging.
“Don’t take your car, it’s too far away. Take one of the repair trucks. They’re closer and heavier. Keep the windows wound up tight and plow through anything that tries to hitch a ride,” he said. Coming back over to her, he handed her the keys to truck number three.
“There’s a button in the truck that opens the automatic gate,” Gary said.
Beverly nodded, then reached out and pulled Gary into a big hug. Tears filled her eyes. She pulled away, then ran for the door and was gone.
Gary sighed. Mack and Reggie weren’t coming back and he knew it. Homeland was not going to secure the facility and he knew that too. He told Beverly that he had this, but the one thi
ng he didn’t know was how to make those words a reality all by himself.
Six
As Beverly left the control room, she let the door close behind her. She knew Gary had wanted her to take one of the trucks, but how would she explain that when the authorities came looking. Gary was a good guy and she genuinely liked him as a person and so overlooked his eccentricities that others used as a source of personal amusement and ridicule. Sure some shit had hit the fan, but the end of the world? Gary had been playing too many of his games and it had allowed him to work his post-apocalyptic dream-scape into a fervor. Beverly opened her purse and dropped the truck keys in, then retrieved her own. Instead of taking a right out of the control room, which would have led her to the exit and the trucks, she hung a left and headed toward the front of the building and the parking lot. She pulled the exit door open and stepped out into the night.
It was clear and mostly quiet, save for the sound of sirens from emergency vehicles off in the distance. She walked across the gravel yard and headed to the parking lot at a brisk pace with her head down. The night had been crazy enough, and even though she didn’t think it was a bad as Gary made out, she didn’t need to freak herself out anymore by seeing things in the shadows. She would get to her car and lock the doors and not stop until she pulled into her garage.
As she approached the curb that formed the boundary between the plant and parking lot, she fumbled with her keys, looking for the ignition. Finding it, she looked up and froze. Her car keys dropped to the ground and her jaw threatened to follow. In front of her, in a loose grouping that spread the whole width of the parking lot, a large horde of Undead shuffled by. She kept perfectly still as they passed, not seeming to notice her. Beverly held her breath and stifled a scream that wanted to blow from her chest. Realizing she had dropped her keys, she cast her eyes down without moving her head, but could not see them. Slowly, she bent her knees and lowered herself to the ground, keeping her eyes straight ahead on the zombies that looked like they were running the slowest marathon in history. Her breath came out in short gasps as her hand shot around on the ground trying to find her keys. So concerned was she about finding them, she failed to notice her purse sliding down her arm. It slipped off her shoulder and hit the asphalt with a thud. The open purse fell over, the momentum spilling out her cell phone which shot across the pavement out into the parking lot. The noise caught the attention of several Shufflers, many which bore the wounds of their initiation. Damaged bodies with torn flesh hanging off faces and torsos stopped and turned as one towards the sound. Beverly froze for the second time and a smothering blanket of tension fell upon the space between them. The crowd of the Undead and Beverly stared each other down across the parking lot. It was like a gunslingers’ duel, the calm before the storm as the Universe waited to see who would blink first. What seemed like an eternity to Beverly but in reality was only the space of seconds transpired, then as if on cue and acting as one, the horde broke into a run after her. Reason fled from Beverly, as out of pure instinct alone, she grabbed her purse and bolted back towards the plant.
Beverly threw herself at the door she had just exited and put her hand on the handle. Her mind froze and refused to accept the reality that hit her like a wrecking ball to the stomach. The handle did not budge. She screamed and pulled on the door that had locked behind her. She whirled around and witnessed the horrific wave of bodies coming at her. She shoved away from the door and sprinted down the length of the wall that formed the perimeter of the building and headed for the fenced in yard. The Dead did not break stride, shifting direction, threatening to outflank her.
As Beverly ran around the corner of the building, the wall gave way to chain-link fence. She thought about the gate entrance and whether she could make it that far before they caught her, and what if she did make it? How would she get in? There was nobody there to open it for her.
“Screw it!” she shouted as she hurled her purse over the top of the fence and began to climb. Her fingers curled over the top just as the impact of a hundred bodies shook the fence. Beverly’s foot slipped and she dropped down precious inches. The chain-link cut into her hands but she only felt the probing hands below as they batted and swiped at her dangling foot. In a burst of fear fueled adrenaline, Beverly hauled herself up and found her footing. At the top she swung her legs over and started down the other side. The Dead began to shake and rattle the fence in a frenzied tantrum. Beverly tried to hold on, but the shaking and swaying of the fence loosened her grip. She fell hard on her back, her head thumping solidly on the gravel. Beverly lay on the ground with the breath knocked out of her and her head ringing. She stared blankly, unable to separate the stars in the sky from the ones dancing in her eyes. Everything was silent and she felt suddenly tired and wanted to go to sleep. Her eyes began to close. A new sound pushed its way into her ears, the scratch of something moving across the gravel. Her eyes flew open, but instead of the stars in the sky, above her were the ruined faces of three Zombies. She bolted up, as more began to gather around her. Beyond the fence, the high pitched sound of the chain-link being assaulted mixed with the groans and howls of the Things on the other side and spurred her to action. She grabbed her purse and raced towards the trucks, her eyes scanning the yard for number three. As she ran, she plunged her hands into her purse and searched for the truck keys. Her eyes found truck three at the same moment her hands seized upon the keys. She cast her purse away and careened towards the truck. Beverly grabbed the handle and the door flew open, sending her crashing to the gravel for the second time. Not wasting any time, she leaped up and climbed into the cab of the repair truck and slammed the door.
Beverly’s hands were shaking as she fumbled the keys into the ignition. The big engine rumbled to life and she headed for the front gate.
In front of her the gate was closed. She stopped the truck and was about to hit the remote to open the gate when she noticed movement in the side mirror. The Dead that had pursued her to the fence won their battle. She watched in renewed horror as the fence gave way, sagging to the ground under their weight. Like a breached dam, the Undead poured into the yard and came straight for her. Beverly whimpered and her eyes filled with water.
“I’m sorry, Gary,” she said as she mashed the gas and plowed through the gate.
Beverly consoled herself that maybe Mack and Reggie had already made it back to the plant. No sooner did she bolster herself with the thought then she noticed a wet mess on the ground in front of her. Her mind told her a large dog had been hit by a truck, but in her heart of hearts she knew it was a lie. Beverly hit the brakes and the truck skidded to a stop. Her breath came hard and fast as she stared at the gelatinous pile in her headlights. Dogs didn’t wear work shirts with names stitched in them. Beverly slumped on the steering wheel and her body shook with tears. She sat up as the first of the Dead hit the back of her truck. In the side mirror she could see a steady stream of them coming her way. The collisions of more and more of the Dead sounded all around her as they began to pile up around the big vehicle. Beverly looked ahead of her at the clear road leading into the night then at the glistening pile that was Reggie, and finally at the plant in the mirror behind her. She thought of Gary and his waiting in vain for Reggie and Mack. Even if she led them away, more of the Undead would find their way here and Gary would be trapped. Beverly dropped the truck in reverse and plowed through the horde around her. Bodies fell and were ground beneath her wheels, others were smashed to pieces and thrown across the yard as Beverly raced backwards toward the plant and Gary.
Gary stood on the roof. He turned in a slow arc and looked at each of the three buildings in the distance. Tall gantries with high voltage wire led away from each of the buildings, disappearing into the night. Gary had to get to each of them to do what he had to do. He let his eyes drop to the land below. The buildings sat on twenty-two and a half acres of fenced in land around the plant, fenced in except for the breach. Hundreds of meandering bodies now dotted the landscape. Gary looked to
the trucks. He had thought if he could make it to one of them, he could get to the buildings and flip the switches. Staring out at the sea of predators, he doubted he would make it ten feet out the door. Gary was about to turn and go back down the stairs to the control room when he heard a noise in the distance. He raced back up to the roof and over to the edge. He could not believe what he saw. Truck number three was mowing down bodies and heading to the plant. Gary turned and ran back down to the control room.
As he headed down the last flight of stairs and pushed through the control room door, he could hear Beverly calling his name. The two burst into the control room from opposite ends at the same time.
“Beverly! What are you doing here?! Why haven’t you—”
Beverly cut him off.
“They’re not coming back, Gary! Mack and Reggie are… gone,” she cried.
Gary’s face fell. Beverly looked at him, confused.
“I know, Bev,” he said.
“You knew?! If you knew no one was coming, why stay?!” she yelled.
Gary approached her and spoke in a tone that to Beverly seemed too calm for the present situation.
“I told you, Bev. I have to do something that will… help survivors… after…”
Beverly looked at him and knew the calm in his voice sprang from a deep resolve to do what he thought was right.
“Okay, well then how can I help you so that we can get the hell out of here?” Beverly asked.
Gary smiled. “I have to tie the three major U.S. power grids together with superconductive high voltage Direct Current power transmission lines, then because the AC power will be out of phase, I have to synchronize the Alternating Current so that it can be transferred across all three of the grids… which currently cannot be done…”
Beverly stared at Gary as if he had three heads and each one was speaking a foreign language at the same time. Only one word sprang to her mind.
“What?”
Substation: The Last Stand of Gary Sykes (Human Extinction Level Loss Book 2) Page 5
