More than one soldier gets the brilliant idea to stop this counterattack at the same moment. Travis sees the train wreck about to happen, unable to do anything. No one thought through what will change so many lives in the next five seconds. Even with all the training in the world no one is competent enough to deal with how the apocalypse has changed reality. No one was trained for this.
Quick on their feet, soldiers pop up, flipping their M4 carbines to full auto and clamping down on the trigger. The twitching dance of a hundred bullets impaling a single person happens in two seconds. The next two seconds expand the damage. The man was surrounded by other living people and the soldiers, no thought was given to the bullets tearing through or missing their target completely. Collateral damage—the military’s actable term for civilians lost in a military operation. Soldiers directly across from each other dance with the impact. Wild shots strike civilians. People die.
Only now, after the end of the world, people don’t stay dead.
DANZIGER JAMS THE fire axe to secure the door from the DKs filling the apartment.
“Danz, I’m bleeding, bad.” Hyun Su props his leg up on the bed while he lies on his back on the floor.
Danziger rips a sheet and wraps it around Hyun Su’s leg wound. The baby blue material mushrooms with red. He ties a second strip of cloth around the first.
“Tie a tourniquet.”
“If I do, you won’t be walking long. I can’t carry you out of here.” Danziger grips Hyun Su’s hand, pulling him to his feet.
Fingers claw at the door. The frequent scrapes give way to a shoving and pounding of hungry DKs.
“What’s your exit strategy?”
“I was hoping you had one.” Danziger yanks on the window sill.
The door buckets against the axe.
“Those DKs are the most aggressive I’ve seen.”
“They haven’t had a steady food supply in a while. Hunger drives them.” Danziger smashes open the window.
Noise sends the DKs into a frenzy. The door gives under the thrashing of bumping bodies.
Danziger helps Hyun Su out the window onto the fire escape.
The axe flies from the door, skittering across the floor. Danziger races for it. Half a dozen undead shove past each other attempting to enter. He reaches for the axe before the DKs trample over it, but stops when he hears Hyun Su shout.
“Danziger!”
He whips his head around. Hyun Su points to an end table. A fallen picture frame rests. He doesn’t hesitate. He trusts his partner and grabs the frame, leaving the axe, and jumps to the window sill. Hyun Su works his way down the metal steps. Danziger pauses to look at the framed image. He smashes the frame on the rail and stuffs the photograph of a man with an older woman into his pocket.
He slides down the stair rail, catching up with Hyun Su. “Better be him in the picture. The axe would help get us out of this.”
“If you don’t know what your whale looks like then this was all for nothing. I can’t die for nothing. It’s bad for my Chi.”
“I thought Chi was a Chinese belief?”
“Your point?”
“You’re Korean.”
“Most white people can’t tell the difference.” Hyun Su drops from the ladder. Clotted blood splatters on the asphalt like a smashed ketchup packet. He limps out of Danziger’s way.
“I don’t think race matters anymore. All the living are food for the dead.” Danziger grabs Hyun Su’s arm and acts as a crutch to help his friend hobble along.
DKs fall from the fire escape, splattering in heaps of broken flesh. One lands on its head. The second’s legs crunch into goo, but the upper torso drags itself after the two detectives.
“We better move.” Danziger steps up his pace, half-pulling Hyun Su with him.
“I don’t think I can climb the ladder.”
“We’ll find another way out of here.”
“Not before the white whale gets me.” Hyun Su drags his knee on his next step.
“You better stop now.”
“Stop what, Danz?”
“Thinking about giving up. We won’t die today.”
More DKs drop from the fire escape. Bent on eating they leap to their disfigurement. They break arms, legs, backs—slowing them down. A few smash their skulls and they twitch for a moment then cease to function.
A large male DK drops from the rail landing on its feet. It bursts into a full run, moan-howling as it barrels into Danziger. The detective and his partner smack into the ground from the tackle. Danziger feels the air forced from his lungs as his chest deflates on impact with the pavement. Normally he would take a minute to recover his breathing, but the DK won’t rest. The monster has already moved closer in order to sink its teeth into Danziger’s pink skin.
Light-headed from blood loss, Hyun Su flails his arm, slapping the beast. A living person would be taken aback by such a desperate move but the undead takes no notice. The swift moving DK clamps down on Hyun Su’s hand. Before completing the bite, Danziger wedges his pistol between the rotting teeth. The bullet sprays coagulated blood through the opposite cheek. He moves his hand and squeezes the trigger again. This time the bullet rips through at an angle. The shell rides around the skull ricocheting. The third shot after another quick twist of the gun and the DK’s brains splay out the back of its skull.
Danziger shoves the inanimate creature off them. The other damaged DKs pick up the pace toward the two detectives.
“I’ve never seen one move so fast.”
Danziger tugs Hyun Su to his feet. “He had a thick skull. I’ve heard you can live after a shot to the head, but he took two.”
“You’re going to have to leave me, Danz. I’m too weak.”
“What, you want me to let them eat you while I escape? I don’t abandon my partner.” He pulls down a fire escape ladder. “We get to the top we can rest all you want.”
Hyun Su falls over. Danziger drags him away from the edge.
“Danz, help me to the wall over there.”
“This isn’t some fucking goodbye moment.”
“I’m afraid it is.” He raises his hand and shows the cuts from the DK’s teeth. “He got me, brother.”
Danziger raises his gun. The barrel shakes in his hand.
“I can do it,” Hyun Su offers, pulling he own gun from his belt.
“No. I can’t watch my partner blow his brains out.”
“I can’t watch your hand shake. You might miss.” Hyun Su props himself up against the wall. He stares out at the skyline, taking in the view of the Gateway Arch overlooking the ravaged city. “You ever been up inside?”
“Yeah, a couple of times.”
“I’ve lived here my whole life and I never once went inside. How do you live some place so long and not visit the most majestic of human creations? My regret, Danziger. Do me a favor, don’t die with any regrets. Don’t let the white whale consume you.” After a moment, Hyun Su hands Danziger his gun and two full clips. “I don’t think I can do it after all.”
Danziger sucks in a deep breath before he reaches for the gun. “It’s the least I can do, my friend.”
“Wait until I turn? I just want to enjoy the view. I want my final memory to be one of human accomplishment.”
Danziger plops down next to Hyun Su. He pulls the photograph from his pocket and flips it over. Scribbled on the back: ‘Levin with Mom,’ and a date. A name and an image. It’s more than he had before. With it he might finally locate his daughter’s murderer. Hyun Su’s head falls against Danziger’s shoulder, snapping him from his thoughts of vengeance.
He nudges his shoulder. “Hey, you awake?”
No answer.
Hyun Su’s chest fails to rise.
Danziger slides out from under his partner. He folds the picture and stuffs it deep into his pocket. Hyun Su’s body lies lifeless on the rooftop. Danziger gets to his feet, stepping back from his friend.
Hyun Su’s eyes flash open in a glazed cataract stare.
&nbs
p; Danziger ends his closest friend’s existence.
LEFT WITH NO real choice, Emily’s rescuer allows the shotgun to impact his shoulder, sending him slamming into the wall. Despite his muscle bulk, a seemingly high pain tolerance and being able to take a hit like a linebacker at full speed, this hurts. No amount of preparation makes a difference when someone swings a steel pipe at full speed. Luckily, being as tall as he is, his shoulder takes the brunt of the impact. He’s sure his head was the intended target and would have been taken clean off.
The last thing he wants to do is kill the living. With the growing number of biters at his heels, he could use these people’s help to survive. But somehow people never look past their petty beliefs and realize they have to work together to face this new world.
He flicks his left wrist. A blade the length of his forearm extends from under his coat sleeve. He jams the shotgun wielder in the gut before he swings again. As Joshua slumps to his knees, the shotgun loosens in his hands. Emily’s savior wrenches it free from his attacker and dumps the still-alive acolyte to the bottom floor. The biters scramble to this fresh meal.
He sinks the axe into the step and marches up to the second floor. The woman screams and runs to a bedroom. The other acolyte feels the blade slash across his chest. Emily squirrels out of the way. The screams of one acolyte are replaced by the thump of the second one impacting the floor. He twists something against his arm through the coat sleeve. The blade drops to the floor.
“Fornicators!” the word echoes from the bedroom.
He moves fast. Emily stays on his heels.
The woman screams and damns the young naked couple now shamed on the bed.
“You defile yourselves out of wedlock and bring sin to our group. You’re the reason the punished have brought the evil to us. Sin must be cleansed from the world.” She raises the .22 pistol Emily had on her waist and fires twice at the young man. The girl and Emily scream. Her savior clubs the woman with the butt of the shotgun. She slumps to the floor. The gun bounces across the floor.
“How many are in your group?” he asks the naked woman on the bed.
Her eyes never leave the dead man who was just inside her.
“Look, I want nothing to do with their Bible thumping. But there’s safety in numbers and…” the girl tries to explain.
“How many?” he demands.
“Six of us.”
Emily plugs her ears with her fingers, but the shot has already damaged a frequency of her hearing. She slumps to one knee her brain ringing with microphone feedback whines. He holds his smoking .357. Nothing remains of the face of the fourth man as he collapses to the floor, the axe in his hand.
Her savior kicks the .22 at Emily.
“Keep her covered.”
He takes the axe and dumps two bodies to distract the biters.
“Should I let her get dressed?” Emily asks on behalf of the girl. She feels her discomfort, imagining if she were naked with a gun pointed at her she’d want to at least cover herself.
“No.”
Emily keeps the gun level, but says nothing as the girl draws the sheet around her. She figures he’d at least let her cover herself. After all, he saved her from those crazed rapists.
The axe smashing wood echoes blearily audible over the growing moan-howls of the feeding biters.
He comes back in, sweat covering his face. “They won’t get up here.”
“How do we get out?”
“Let’s worry about it later.” He pushes her hands down lowering the pistol aimed at the nude girl.
“What about her?”
“I’ve a name you know,” protests the nude girl. “Bella.”
He looks at the quivering naked woman. “Do you have to use the bathroom?”
“Yes,” Bella stammers, staring toward one of the doors. “We flush this one.” She points to the door next to the closet.
His gaze clearly questions her believability. “How? This building has no power to run the pumps.”
“There was a hand pump out back. We found buckets and filled them and the tub. We’d all use the toilet and then flush. It’s been so nice to go indoors.”
“Good plan. Go use it, but leave the door open.”
He keeps one eye on Bella as she uses the toilet.
“Why are you being so mean to her?” Emily speculates her savior has some form of bipolar disorder. He protected Emily from being raped but now she finds him unreasonably gruff toward this helpless woman.
“Emily, we don’t know her.”
“She wasn’t one who attacked us.”
Bella stands before them in a hunched begging stance. “I want some clothes.”
“No.” He pulls a zip tie from his coat. “Lay on the bed in the position you want to sleep in.”
Bella does without question. He binds her wrists to the bed. “Em, cover her up.” He drags the body of her dead lover from the room.
He dumps the body over the rail and watches as it crashes onto the biters who continue munching at the other corpse.
Emily marches after him. “I don’t understand. She’s a helpless woman, and I was a helpless woman this morning and you treated me so much better.”
“This morning you were a helpless little girl and not part of a group trying to kill me. Now we sleep in this room and tomorrow we’ll see about all three of us escaping this place. Bella stays tied up until I feel trust.”
Emily pouts and stomps back into the bedroom. He moves a heavy oak chest of drawers toward the door.
Emily pauses. “Wait. I want one of the buckets of water. I want to wash my cuts.”
He opens the door for her.
Emily struggles to carry the five gallon bucket down the hall without splashing water on herself. She half drags the bucket. She slips a small folding pocket knife from her jacket and tosses it on the woman.
Bella smiles at Emily.
Emily plops the bucket on the floor of the other bedroom. Water splashes her jeans. He tilts the dresser, sealing them in the room. No way could anyone push open the door without first making a lot of noise.
Emily strips to her underclothes.
He unclasps his gun belt and drops it on the table beside the bed. She was right. He had another gun secured behind his back.
“Why so many guns?”
“I like breathing.” He kicks off his boots with well-worn soles.
“You don’t have to be so mean.”
“It keeps me alive.”
Emily parades around the room in her panties and form-fitting tee. Normally she would hide herself under a blanket before she allowed such an older man to see her almost buck naked; however, he’s treated her with respect instead of as a piece of meat. She finds a wash cloth and uses the cold water to dab at the cuts. Her thighs have turned purple from the attack. She almost asks him to inspect the cuts but his eyes avoid her. She smiles, not wanting to ruin the gentlemanly behavior he exhibits toward her in his own way.
Averting his eyes from Emily takes more willpower than expected. He would never force himself on any woman, or in her case, a little girl. But her attractive figure still brings on distracting human urges. Urges that in the face of danger would cost lives if she were to become bitten and he loved her too much to end her. Too many people had died because they couldn’t shoot a loved one returned from the dead. One mistake he won’t make. The M&P rests near his right hand. He closes his eyes. “After you feel clean, run an alcohol pad over those cuts again and sleep in the chair.”
Pop. Pop. Pop.
He jerks from his slumber, gun in hand. The moonlight illuminates enough of the room for him to witness Emily fall from the chair.
“What?!”
“Low caliber weapon. Most likely a .22 pistol.”
Two more pops echo and then a woman screams.
He pushes the chest of drawers away from the door. The moon’s illumination keeps shadows dancing in the hall. A biter fumbles around the stair landing. He eases into the other bedroom. The sh
eets are empty except the zip tie he snags from the bed. The broken end feels cut. The constant moan-howl of biters emanates from the open window. He eases through to peek out. The biters have gathered below a tree. They tear at Bella’s flesh.
He hears Emily’s bare feet squeak the floor behind him. He spins around, grabbing her and pulling her face against his chest to prevent her from the view outside the window.
“I wouldn’t. Spare yourself when you can.”
Emily jerks away from him, and glances out the window. “My fault.” She flings herself at him burying her face against him again. “I let her go.” He feels her budding hard nipples dig into his chest. He pushes her to arm’s length removing her perky breasts from his body.
“Bella made her choice.”
“She was scared of you. You could’ve been nice to her.”
Staring into her green eyes he asks, “Where did she get the gun?”
“What?” Emily wipes away a tear and lowers her face, not wanting to cry in front of him.
“She had a gun.” He takes Emily’s chin in his hand glaring into her eyes. “Did you give it to her?”
“No. Just a penknife to cut the zip tie. I swear.”
“They had a shotgun with no shells and needed to protect themselves. She had a loaded gun she kept hidden, even from her traveling companions. I wouldn’t shed many tears for her. She doesn’t rate high on the trust factor.”
He leaves Emily to her thoughts, wanting to return to a comfortable sleep, a luxury he rarely gets scavenging for supplies.
She races after him. “How did she get down?”
“A thought-provoking question.” He drops the chest of drawers against the door. “She used the tree next to the window.”
“Then we can use it to get down.” Emily beams with excitement.
“You, maybe, not me. And remember, she didn’t get far.”
“She fired a gun. Noise attracts them.”
“You’re catching on, Em.” He closes his eyes and rests his hand near the M&P again.
No Room In Hell (Book 1): The Good, The Bad and The Undead Page 5
