Wicked

by John M. Davis

  Lisa was so clueless. Derick suspected that most attractive city girls were.

  “No,” he replied. “They're probably right outside the door waiting. They may even be letting us fatten up on purpose.”

  His theory brought a strange look to the woman's face.

  “All I know is that door isn't opening until we get the all-clear from Rudy and the others. I'm just glad we have eyes on the outside.”

  “Do you think they'll leave us behind?” Lisa asked.

  “No way,” Derick said. “I know Pam. She wouldn't leave us back here to die. Not in a million years.”

  Carlos looked at the brunette for a moment, understanding that her concerns weren't without at least a small bit of merit.

  “She's got a point.”

  “No, she doesn't,” Derick said fast. “I've known Pam since we were barely old enough to ride bikes together. She wouldn't leave us back here.”

  “All I'm saying is,” Carlos warned. “Pam's not calling the shots up there. How much do we know about Rudy? Do we know he's the kind of guy who'll stay true to his word? Or will he bolt at the first sign of making a clean getaway?”

  “He seems like a standup guy.” Derick admitted.

  “Do I seem like a standup guy?” Carlos asked. “Because things are a lot different now that we've got dead people trying to beat our door down. I'd at least think about leaving to save my own skin if I were in his shoes.”

  His admission silenced the entire group. Each of them began to consider being left behind by the group stranded above them in an elevator.

  ** **

  A.K. took several moments to wake up. His eyes drifted from a land of peaceful dreams to a barrage of horrific reality. Opening fast, they began soaking in the view of Tommy, who knelt over Murphy's body, eating a feast by the standards of an infected.

  Instinctively, A.K. grabbed his rifle. Aiming it at the figure which had its back turned, gorging on flesh. The former prison guard could see slimy innards laying close by, along with pools of blood-stained meat.

  He'd heard no screams; no cries for help. And then, as if a lightning bolt of reality had struck him, A.K. realized that the old man had been killed in his sleep. His throat had likely been slit in order to silence the meal ahead. Tommy had in fact lured the two men up onto the roof in order to have his fill of flesh without interruption. Tommy was so sure there was a key behind the counter. Hell, they'd seen dried blood stains on the roof when they'd first made it up the ladder. They'd been had.

  A.K.'s eyes teared a bit. Not with memories of the old man, but rather the realization that it could have just as easily been him. Like a flip of the coin, Murphy had been killed in his sleep instead of A.K. He also quickly understood that any gunshots would bring an angry horde back to the store. They'd migrated elsewhere, for the most part. Though a few infected waited patiently by the rooftop ladder.

  Falling from the roof was his only option. A.K. could have chosen to fight the monster hand-to-hand, but it could have resulted in his own death, and the man had no intentions of having his innards laying nearby as well. Seeing the guts of another human being laying close by leaned on a man's bravery. He'd need to get off of the roof, without using the ladder, and somehow make it as far away from the store as possible.

  A.K. knew nothing about the surrounding area. It was an industrial area and there were buildings nearby, but beneath the cloak of nightfall, he had no sense of direction. Rushing into a building filled with infected would have been just as bad as staying behind to face whatever fate awaited him at the hands of Tommy, who's teeth ripped into the old man's muscles only a dozen of feet away.

  Finally, A.K. began slipping his rifle over his shoulder. Taking his time in easing its strap across his left arm. Then, just as quietly as he'd been sleeping, the former prison guard grabbed hold of the roof's ledge and looked down below. He saw infected, but they were nearly a hundred yards away and stumbling about.

  The man sucked in a breath of anticipation. This was it, there was no turning back now. Exhaling slowly, he draped his right leg across and followed it with his left – finding that he now dangled from the roof. His hands gripped the concrete ledge tight, but they certainly couldn't hold on forever.

  The drop would be almost twenty feet down and he'd no choice in the matter. It wasn't like he could cry out for Tommy to help. If ever he'd been between a rock and a hard place, this was it. Drawing in another deep breath and mustering what courage he could – his shaking hands finally let go.

  He landed, feet first and his stiff legs buckled like cheap boards beneath too much weight. Falling to the ground immediately, A.K. clenched his teeth and did what he could to remain quiet. He'd blown a knee out – he was sure of it. But nothing had seen his fall. The infected continued to stagger many feet away, unaware of his presence. Likewise, the scheming bastard on the rooftop that had convinced them he was on their side – had heard nothing.

  With every step, A.K. felt like crying out. But he couldn't. Biting his lower lip, the man did what he could to make it to the nearest set of buildings. He finally found a small shop of some kind. There was a single window, but its shop owner had locked a gating mechanism behind it. A.K. knew enough to realize that more windows meant less chance of survival. This was his best chance to lay low temporarily and with any luck, mend his knee.

  A.K. heard howling. Blood-crazed yelling. He only assumed that it was Tommy, who'd learned of his escape. There was only a short pause before the infected began to make their way to the small convenience store and he needed an out. But the small building was locked-up tight. Nothing short of explosives would have caved the door in and the window had long been shattered. Thick, grated steel had taken its place.

  “Backdoor.” a voice said.

  “Huh?”

  “Come to the backdoor,” the man's voice said once more. “Hurry.”

  A.K. didn't know if he could trust the voice, and yet he had no choice. Tommy's figure was now climbing down the ladder of the convenience store and, most importantly, the infected around him seemed to view him as some sort of alpha male. A fact that A.K. found rather strange among people who were no longer among the living. Tommy, or whatever the infected was that had lured them to the rooftop – it began speaking in a very strange language. Not English, nor Spanish or French. It was unlike anything he'd heard before. Part tribal, with the dragging and clicks normally associated with the Germanic languages. Even stranger, the staggering dead nearby looked to him as though they understood. What madness was this?

  Dragging his bad leg to the back door of the small brick building, A.K. saw it crack open slightly. Lamplight bled into the dark alley behind the store and a gun barrel introduced itself quick.

  “You can't stay here for long. Only for tonight. Do you agree to those terms?” the voice asked.

  “Yea,” A.K. said, raising his hands in surrender. “No problem.”

  “Come in.”

  He had no idea what to expect, but Tommy had left the rooftop and soon he'd be searching the surrounding area. That in itself was good enough for A.K. He'd take his chances in the small brick building at gunpoint, if need be.

  Upon entering, he could smell the slight hint of food – baked food. Bread, perhaps. And though the interior wasn't very well lit, it did provide just enough brightness for his eyes to focus on the room. These were normal people.

  “Are you awake?”

  Rudy's voice captured the attention of Lisa, Derick, and Carlos, who'd all been awake in anticipation of the radio contact. It was literally their only burst of information. Otherwise, they were shuttered inside of an employee lounge with no link to the outside world. Doomed to a single room with horrific howling on the other side of their door.

  “Yea,” Carlos replied. “Any news?”

  “You've got four infected at your doorstep and a handful close by. They're close enough to be a problem.”

  “We may be able to-” Carlos began.

  “No...you can't
,” Rudy warned. “This place is crawling with infected. Anybody who steps outside will be dead within sixty seconds. There's no way around it.”

  “So we don't have a plan?” Carlos asked.

  “I didn't say that,” Rudy confirmed. “Off to my left, it'll be your right, on the bottom floor there's an emergency exit. The bad news is that there are a lot of ugly faces between either of us and that door.”

  “And the good news?”

  “The good news is that I believe I can create a distraction, which should clear out the pathway temporarily. It should give a small window in which the biters abandon their spot and give chase.”

  “How do you plan to create a diversion?” Carlos asked.

  “I'm the diversion,” Rudy said. “I'm going to run the other way and lead them deeper into the store.”

  “What?”

  “It's the only way.”

  For nearly a full minute, silence engulfed the conversation. Neither group of survivors knew exactly what to think. Finally, Carlos' voice crackled back in.

  “We can't let you do that.”

  “I appreciate that,” Rudy began. “But I'm the military guy here. I'm the only one who has signed on the dotted line, swearing my life to protecting the innocent. I can run. Who knows, hell, I may even make it. I need to get back out there and link up with a military unit. That's my part in all of this.”

  “You said yourself that it's suicide,” Carlos replied fast.

  “Carlos, this is the only way. I have no idea what in the hell is on the other side of that emergency exit. It could be leading you all into a horde of these starving bastards. But it's not going to lead you out onto the same hill, so it's a start. We can't stay here pinned in like animals. We'll all die. This is the only way.”

  Again, silence pierced its way through the conversation. This time for a handful of minutes which seemed like forever.

  “Rudy. This is Lisa,” her voice finally broke the void of conversation. “I want to thank you for what you're doing.”

  “It's not necessary.” he smiled. Listening to his walkie.

  “Yes it is,” she pushed. “The truth is, I always heard about heroes on television. Support our troops – all of that. But I'm guilty of being self-absorbed during Memorial Day. I used to get dressed up fancy and attend these dinners-”

  “Lisa. You don't need to do this.” Rudy said.

  “Yes I do,” she insisted. “Today is the first day that I understand the word sacrifice. And I'm glad to have met you. Thank you.”

  “You're welcome.”

  “Same goes for me,” Derick's voice said. “If you'd rather me go-”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I'm the man for the job,” Rudy said. “The truth is that the military trains you to accept your own death at any time. We're programmed to look forward to it. I just hope you all get out OK.”

  “I'll make sure everyone down here is ready when you give the order.” Carlos said. The tone of his voice contained plenty of gratitude.

  “Do that. It'll be a very small window of opportunity. Take anything you have down there that may come in handy and isn't bolted to the floor.”

  “When do we go?” Carlos asked.

  “Tomorrow morning,” Rudy said. “An extra day may thin them out just a little bit more. From what I can tell, they seem to lose interest pretty fast. Plus, it'll give us all time to get our things ready. It's a one-shot deal. You'll need to get everyone to that door, otherwise, a lot of people might die.”

  “Tomorrow morning after we communicate then.”

  “Copy that.” Rudy said.

  Moments later, he twisted the knob on top of his walkie. Cutting it back to complete silence. The light outside had grown brighter. Sunlight shot its way into the elevator, kissing Pam's cheek and warming it while flooding them all with cozy warmth.

  “You don't have to do this.” Lamar said.

  “Yea I know,” Rudy grinned. “You know that, comic book guy.”

  Glancing over, he could see the look of pain.

  “Pam.”

  “I'm OK.” she replied.

  “You will be.” Rudy smiled.

  “I don't want anyone to die.” she finally admitted.

  Crying wasn't typically something she did. Her father had taught her that. Hold in your emotions and display them only when you lay your head down at night to ask for forgiveness. His words – not hers.

  “Pam, people have to die. It's part of the cycle,” Rudy smiled a bit. Hoping to calm her. “It's not death that you should be concerned about. Worry about living while you can. I've lived enough for a hundred people, believe me. I used to get up in those clouds and man, just for a few seconds I felt like I was coasting in heaven. I've lost so many friends along the way. Iraq, Syria...if it's my time to go, I'm ready.”

  Reaching out for a moment, Pam hugged the real-life hero. Trying to dry her tears as she did so.

  “I ain't hugging you, Rudy, if you're waiting for it.” Lamar said.

  The entire group burst out in laughter. Finding humor inside of an elevator which held them captive in a store filled with infected dead.

  ** **

  “I can't believe he's doing it.” Lisa admitted.

  “He's made his choice.” Carlos replied.

  The former prisoner continued shoving things they might need into a book bag. Pausing for a moment, he smashed the glass of each vending machine in. Wasting no time as he began scooping up the snacks and shoving them into his bag. The loud noise would likely bring more zombies to them, but not for too long. They'd soon pound their hunger away on the thick steel door and move about their business.

  “Yea, but damn.” Derick said.

  “Damn what?” Carlos asked in a confrontational manner.

  “He's sacrificing himself for the entire group. Can we at least talk good about the man for a day?” Derick asked. Not backing down.

  “What he's doing is brave,” Carlos acknowledged. “But it's also for nothing unless we're ready to move when he bolts. We need to have our shit together. So, instead of bellyaching for someone who isn't even dead yet, you could be helping me grab the snacks and drinks. Go through everything in here and look for things that may help us out there...assuming we do make it out of here alive.”

  Derick didn't appreciate Carlos' point of view, though it was perhaps the brutal honesty of their situation. Standing for a moment and staring at the vending machine that had been used for soda, once upon a time, Derick plunged his large blade into its plastic front. Ripping his knife across with frustration while finally tearing a hole wide enough to get his hands into. Turning to his friend.

  “Wanna help me?”

  “Yea.” Carlos replied.

  Together, the men muscled into the hole and began prying their arms. Finally snapping the plastic logo front from the machine, exposing rows of ice cold soft drinks.

  “What do you drink, Lisa?” Derick asked.

  “I don't...know.”

  Pulling a cola out and snapping it open, Derick placed it into her hands. Looking at her for the very first time as something more than just an attractive city girl who didn't know anything. Beneath it all, she was a beautiful woman who was scared.

  “You just stay with me when it's time, OK?” he asked.

  “I don't want to die. Not like this.” she admitted.

  Her eyes were a whirlwind of ice blue and tears, radiating innocence back to him. Hooking his inner soul in the process.

  “I'm not going to let you die.”

  Timidly, she reached down and grabbed hold of his hand. Even with scattered dead roaming the store aisles outside of the door, Lisa began to find love in the eyes of an oxygen delivery man who was just as scared as she was. But damn did he hide it well.

  “You guys done?” Carlos asked.

  Asshole. Lisa thought. Most of the group had taken to Carlos, but she hadn't. There was something about him – a vibe. And while she couldn't explain it, Lisa found herself very nervous aroun
d the former convict.

  ** **

  “Saw you two sneaking into the area yesterday. I would have tried to warn you, but then we'd all be dead.” a strange man said.

  A.K. nodded. Continuing to hold his arms up with surrender.

  “Oh, the gun,” the man said. “Sorry about that.”

  He lowered the shotgun and in turn, A.K. lowered his arms. While keeping his guard up. Suspecting the worst.

  “Name's Clive. This is my wife Barbara.”

  A.K. seemed to relax a little.

  “A.K.”

  “You a cop or something?” Clive asked.

  A.K. certainly dressed the part.

  “Something like that,” A.K. replied. “Used to be, at least.”

  “We ran a small shop that sold merchandise online. You know, people wanted to sell items online but didn't want to hassle with it. They brought their things here and we did the work. Just in case you were wondering.”

  “Thank you for taking me in,” A.K. said. Clinching his teeth for a moment as his left knee throbbed like a bloody hangover. “My friend just got...”

  “We figured,” Clive said. “You're not the first people that thing has lured onto the rooftop of the store.”

  “What?”

  “Care for some tea?” Barbara asked.

  A.K. looked at her for a moment. The woman looked pleasant enough, just as he would have expected an elderly shop owner to look.

  “I'm not trying to be rude, ma'am,” he finally said. “It's just that...I just saw my friend's insides laying in a pool of blood and I thought I was next. I suppose I'm in shock. And we're not the first ones?”

  “You're the third group of people he's gotten his teeth into,” the older man replied. “And you're the first to escape. He speaks in some strange language when no one's around. Damned if I know why. It's not like these smelly flesh scarecrows can understand him. I'm leaning toward the fact that it's actually the devil.”