No Room In Hell (Book 1): The Good, The Bad and The Undead

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No Room In Hell (Book 1): The Good, The Bad and The Undead Page 18

by William Schlichter


  “I could see carrying one or even each person having their own, but why so many extras?”

  “They must have thought it would protect them.”

  “Not the book, Him. And no matter what you believe, this time will test the faith of all humankind.”

  “What do we do with them? Some have blood all over them.”

  “Take the bloody copies and burn them with each of their bodies. The good ones…go in the library.”

  Emily scatters DVD cases on a table. She stacks each film into general categories.

  Wanikiya carries in a box, “Where do I set these?”

  “What’s in it?”

  “Books.”

  “By the counter over there. I’m out of room. This was a small school library.”

  “Use the empty classroom next door.”

  “No shelves.”

  “After we expand into the subdivision I’ll make sure you get shelves.”

  “This job’s a lot harder than it looks. With the security of the fence people have some free time to read and watch a few movies, and as soon as I get stuff shelved it’s gone.” She grabs a DVD from the table. “Do you think they’ll make any more movies?”

  “I think one day the world we knew will return somewhat to what we once knew, but not completely. People will make movies again, write books, surf the Internet, but you may have grandchildren before it happens again.”

  “There something else bothering you, Wanikiya?”

  “I had to give orders today…the kind of orders I don’t like to give.”

  “Was it to keep the colony safe?” Emily asks.

  “Yes it was.”

  “Then it wasn’t the wrong choice. Nothing keeping us safe is the wrong choice.” Emily opens the box of Bibles. “Are you still collecting the wish list for the camp?”

  “Anytime someone needs something we’re unable to make ourselves or a job arises requiring a certain skill set, I add it to the needed supply list.”

  “Then I have someone we should add to our list.” Emily smiles.

  EMILY’S SAVIOR PULLS on the doors to the In Quick/Out Fast convenience store. Someone chained the doors together from the inside.

  “It will be dark soon.” Major Ellsberg keeps his back to the building and sweeps the parking lot with his rifle.

  Little Olivia kneels at the door, cups her hands around her eyes, and peeks in. “Those coolers still have water bottles in them.”

  “Why has no one bothered this place?” Brock asks.

  “We just have to get inside without busting open the front doors.” He steps away from the door to examine the building.

  Karley peers in. “How do we get in?”

  “Smaller window: we bust it.” He points to the glass high in the wall. “Major, you think you can drop inside and open the emergency fire door in the back to let us in?”

  Agitated, Brock says, “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I found stores looted with even the shelves gone and the same kind of store across the street left untouched. I’ve no idea why. This place sits off the interstate, and with the road signs down unless you lived here you may not know this place exists. Why would anyone come down this road?”

  Karley jumps his case. “Then why’d you bring us this way?”

  “That’s easy, hon.” Brock puts his hand on her shoulder. “He’s avoiding people, living or otherwise.”

  “I’ll fit, but if all you want is the back door open we could drop Olivia in there. She’s the perfect size.”

  “No way.” Karley scoops up her daughter. “Why not just smash the glass and bust the chain?”

  “Because I want to sleep in this building tonight despite the rotten burrito smell. We bust a window and we may not know if we smell the dead or just bad food. I’m not sending a nine-year-old in there.”

  “Then I’ll do it,” Brock volunteers.

  “I’ll do it.” The major slings his rifle. “How about a boost?”

  He steps under the window making a cradle with his fingers laced together and with little effort hoists the major up by his boot.

  Ellsberg draws his knife to use the butt as a hammer. The glass rains onto a potato chip bag display. He knocks loose any last chunks of the non-shatter glass.

  “Watch for biters,” he calls out as the major’s boot leaves his hands. “Just in case.”

  “Thanks for not sending in Olivia.” Karley holds her daughter tight.

  “Until properly trained on a firearm, I won’t risk her or anyone. I just can’t drop down from a high window.”

  “I noticed you limp, but I thought it was from your car accident.”

  “A long ago accident. The car crash aggravated it.”

  Major Ellsberg rattles the chained doors, but they won’t open. He waves for them to head around the building.

  The group moves around the building.

  “Sarah, you’ve been quiet,” he notes.

  “I don’t have anything to add. But I never thought I’d feel safer outside the military fence.”

  “Brock, hold this door open. Major, you and I will re-sweep this place. Every corner.”

  Ellsberg nods. After satisfied the building’s a safe bed for the night he gives instructions to them. “The toilets have water. We’ll add more from all the bottles we can’t carry or even use the power drinks. But don’t just flush until we leave if possible.”

  “It will mask the smell of dried hot dogs and stale pizza.

  “Smells good. It’s been months since I’ve smelt anything hanging in the air that wasn’t road kill,” Brock says.

  He stuffs protein and breakfast bars into a bag. “And I’m guessing most of us haven’t had soda and sugar-filled candy in months, so go easy or you’ll get sick.”

  Brock picks up a liquor bottle.

  “Drink the water and stuff your packs with as much as you can carry.” He pulls down two whiskey bottles and slides them in his bag. “And no liquor.”

  “You’re taking whiskey.”

  “My medical staff uses it to sterilize their equipment.”

  Karley questions him, “You’ve a medical staff, and where we are going you need a welder?”

  “We’re going someplace safe. Safer than the refugee camp.”

  “How do you know?” Karley asks.

  “I’ve built it.”

  “And that makes it safe?”

  He gives her a ‘don’t fuckin’ doubt me, woman’ look. “So far, but everyone I’ve invited in has to do their part. It’s not a democracy anymore. It’s working together to survive. Now curl up in the corner and get some sleep.”

  “Brock, what did you get us into?” She slams a fist into her husband’s arm.

  “Away from a place where women were being abused,” Sarah speaks up.

  “I never saw anyone being abused.”

  “You were in the housing section of the base. A lot of bad stuff was happening in the tent city,” Ellsberg begins. “As far as the base being safe, it was an illusion. There were too many people let inside. It’s a week, maybe two, from collapse. There’s not enough food.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Karley demands.

  “And cause a panic? Even more people would be hurt,” he adds. “I want people who are willing to make our community work, not go because they are afraid.”

  “But they were sending the infirmed out of the base. They were relocating the sick. I saw the trucks.”

  Major Ellsberg gives the only answer, “There was no place to send them.”

  Once everyone’s asleep he sneaks out the fire door and climbs the ladder to the roof. The stars seem brighter. With a few months of less pollution the sky seems clearer.

  Lightning bugs dance in the field.

  He closes his eyes.

  Jolted awake by the thudding crash of a fender against a gas pump, he grips his weapon. Emily’s savior hopes the people inside the store have enough sense to remain quiet. Especially Karley.

  “
Push it over.”

  “Won’t it explode?” the driver hangs his head out the cab window.

  The guy yelling at him slaps him with his ball cap. “No, dumb fuck. But you got to push the pump over to reach the gizmos to manually pump gas into the truck.”

  “Can’t you just flip the switch inside the store?”

  No, don’t go inside. He sets his weapon down and dries the wetness of his palm on his pants. The morning dew has collected on him.

  “You need electricity.”

  “You’re making too much noise. The munchers move faster at night.”

  “A myth,” the guy wearing the ball cap says.

  “What do you know about it?” The driver taunts.

  “You two, knock it off. Faster at night or not, noise attracts them.” Kani completes his inspection of the store’s perimeter.

  “Hey.” the fourth man pulls on the store doors. “These things are chained from the inside.”

  “Means the food’s still in there.”

  “Bet we’d get a lot of sweet ass for chocolate bars.” He pulls the winch cable to the doors, fishing it around the handles.

  “We get some pretty sweet ass as is. Those two sisters the other night.” The men laugh.

  He doesn’t want to imagine since he saw what guys like this did to Emily and her companions.

  “Yeah, the small one didn’t like it in the ass, but she took it like a champ.” The man with the ball cap sneers.

  “She was hungry, fuckhead.”

  “For my fat cock.”

  “Why you always got to fuck them in the ass? You faggy or what?” Kani ribs him.

  “Those dirty little whores. Only place to fuck ‘em is in the ass.”

  He draws his M&P pistol.

  Sarah slides across the floor to peer out the door. Ellsberg grabs the top of her pants in an attempt to pull her back, but he lacks the strength to move her bulk. He waves for Brock to move his family back. They slide across the floor toward the bathroom.

  The major wonders where his new leader has disappeared to and if he heard these guys why he didn’t warn them before he vanished. The man has been on his own a lot, maybe he just didn’t think to wake them. Still, now should he act or should he wait and see what the marauders plan to do about the store.

  Sarah spots Kani before the grinding winch gears scare her back. The stress on the doors sends an eerie screech throughout the building until a hinge pops. Olivia covers her ears. The high pitched tear of metal catches the attention of aimless biters in the fields. Now with a direction they shamble with investigatory hunger.

  A second hinge snaps. One of the men hollers. The other stops the winch. Liquid soaks the first’s stomach.

  “What the hell!”

  “The hinge piece must have shot out like a bullet.” Kani grabs some dirty towels from the truck bed to staunch the blood flow.

  “Doubtful, you morons.” The man in the duster points both guns at the remaining three men.

  Hollywood would have viewers believe this cool drawdown moment with a gun in each hand creates the perfect action sequence. Not in reality. No one can aim and fire and hit targets with two different weapons at the same time. But he wonders if these idiots know.

  Before they draw on him, he fires. Three bullets tear apart the biggest guy. The next barrage of lead sends the already wounded one into spasms. Red-stained mucus spews from his facial orifices until he gags on his own fluids. The third man takes a bullet, but ducks onto the floorboard of the truck. The fourth disappears.

  He holsters the Beretta and draws the .357.

  Brock’s family takes up residence in the concrete walled bathroom. Ellsberg jerks his finger in a demanding motion for Sarah to join them. She vehemently shakes her head no. She wants to help. Somehow knowing he took a welder and soldier out of the camp makes her feel so small she must prove her worth to this group and not be just another fat girl. She has nothing on the surface to offer this place he’s built. Moreover, she wants her shot at these men. Their torment and abuse must be repaid. Ellsberg flips his rifle to fully auto and takes up an ambush position for anyone entering through the front doors.

  Kani works his way to the back of the bronco. The driver slides out the passenger side of the truck. He pulls a machine gun from the back seat. The canopy over the pumps prevents anyone on the roof from seeing him hand the weapon to Kani.

  Noise now has the attention of a few dozen biters within a mile radius. The undead scuffle forward their moan-howls form an echoing hum attracting even more undead to the convenience store.

  Kani dips out from under the pump island canopy spraying bullets at the rooftop. The duster clad attacker has fled. Kani swoops around and jumps into the cab. “Put it in gear and drive, Jimmy!”

  Jimmy slams the gearshift and peels backward from under the canopy. The doors fly from their frame and smash into the canopy support poles. The Bronco jolts to an instant stop now anchored to the building.

  This gives the man in the duster coat a second of advantage. He glances from the corner of the store front. Five, six, seven rounds smash into the windshield.

  Jimmy’s head turns into a spray of red mist. Kani falls from the cab with two shots in each clavicle. The man in the duster coat kicks the machine gun from Kani’s reach.

  “Who the hell are you?” Kani pleads.

  He dumps the cylinder of empty shell casing. Eight plinks echo on the pavement. He slides a clean bullet into each chamber making sure they clink into place in his magnum. The sound torments Kani as he knows his death approaches.

  Sarah runs from the store. Ellsberg follows sweeping his rifle ready to fire. She kicks the first attacker she reaches, although he is already dead. “These men tormented me.”

  “Don’t waste your energy. Just put a bullet in their heads.” He jams the cylinder into place.

  “What?” Confused, Sarah halts her next kick.

  He blows the head off a corpse scuffling from the road before handing the smoking gun to Sarah. He grabs the machine gun and a belt of clips from the back seat. “Put a bullet into each of their skulls before they try and eat you and be satisfied. We’re about to have company.”

  Undead scamper from the tree lines. Sarah shoots the first man. She’s pretty sure he’s already dead but she has to be sure.

  “Where’s Brock and his family?” He reloads the machine gun.

  “Bathrooms. They are solid concrete walls,” Ellsberg adds.

  “Good location. We should take up position in the other one. Wait out the corpses until morning. Once they eat these guys maybe they’ll stop looking for us.”

  Sarah shoots another one. “This one’s a Bowlin. His brother runs the black market at the fort.”

  Kani sobs. “Come on, Sarah.” He backs toward the doors. Major Ellsberg follows suit. More and more undead scuffle toward them.

  Sarah points the gun at Kani’s face. “He’s still alive.”

  “Leave him to be eaten or finish him. We got to get inside.”

  “Please don’t, please. Help me. Help me and I’ll get you all the food your fat ass could want,” Kani pleads.

  “You really think I want food. You misguided redneck.”

  “Then fuck you, you fat bitch. I’ll fuck’n ride—”

  She scatters his brains over the pavement.

  “FIVE…SIX…SEVEN.” Kade glares through binoculars. “Pake, how many supply choppers flew in last time?”

  The dirty coated man flips through a palm-sized notepad. “There were twelve.”

  “And the time before?”

  “Twenty. Most weeks it was twenty.”

  “We’ve been gifted down to seven choppers of food to feed more people than were here last week. This could be the end of government handouts. From now on we trade only for useful items. No more jewelry. Ammo will get the best trade. Guns, knives, fuel, and blankets are next. Tell the boys no more sex for food. I want the far tent packed and squared away on the truck. As soon as it’s full, tak
e it out to the farm,” Kade orders.

  “Right away.”

  “When this goes south, it’s going to be bad. I want most of our camp off the base.”

  Pake stuffs his notebook in his coat. “Kade, you got a guess on how long before it falls?”

  “I’d guess people have squirreled enough food away for about a week, if they were smart. Those not rationing won’t get their bellies too full on seven cargo choppers. It takes about five to stock the military stores. The soldiers won’t go hungry.”

  “They’ll have some supplies stored.”

  “Not enough to appease the mob if next week there are only seven or less choppers.” Kade contemplates this for a moment. “If we could find more survivors I’d bring them in and let their numbers really bust this place up. It’s going to fall.”

  “But it’s safe and we’re making a better living now than before the plague started. I sure get laid a lot more.”

  “No one’s going to haul you off to jail for solicitation. I want a chance at the armory. We’ve got a good place to hole up, but some heavy weapons would make it secure.”

  Two helicopters drop their cargo and land. Kade watches them take off through his binoculars. They are fully loaded with soldiers. He attempts to count them. Two more choppers land and take on military passengers. Nearly fifty soldiers march onto each chopper.

  “Pake, we may not have a week.”

  Colonel Travis takes the sealed envelope from a soldier who salutes and returns to his H-92 Troop Transport Helicopter. Forty-four soldiers race for the seats on each aircraft.

  “One hundred and thirty-two men will cut into our defensive position, Colonel.”

  “We drop all patrols and no more burn detail. We’ve eliminated most of the infirmed already. We’ll have another a week with fewer troops. Anyone who’s been watching will have noticed troops leaving for a few weeks.”

  “Permission to speak freely, Colonel?”

  “No more advice on how we should stay and help. There’s no way to feed these people, and when the food stops we will have the Infected and the hungry to fight. Our best bet remains in pulling all military forces back to a staging point and retaking the country. Survivors will be acclimated.”

 

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