The girls screeched as I bundled them through the doorway. I took a glance over my shoulder and saw more undead plummeting down into the basement. I stepped through the doorway and spun around to face Smith, holding my oar at the ready and shining the flashlight across the doorway.
Smith hurried into the next basement and slammed the door shut just as the undead rose up and began to plod after us.
“There’s no way of securing the door from this side,” Smith yelled, studying the wooden door’s surface. “It won’t hold them out for long.”
“We need to find a way out of here and quickly,” I said.
“You got that right,” Smith rasped. “Shine that damn flashlight around and see if you can find an exit out of here.”
“Of course, sure,” I blurted and swung around, waving the flashlight beam around in frenzied arcs.
“Up there,” Ronda shrieked, pointing to the left of the basement. “I saw a ladder over that way in the corner.”
“Where?” I bawled, turning to see where she was indicating.
“Over there,” she repeated, in a tone like she was talking to a complete idiot. Her eyes widened and she jabbed her hand towards the left corner of the cellar.
I swung the flashlight around and picked out the ladder. “Okay, I see it,” I said.
A loud banging sound echoed around the basement. Decaying and rotting hands battered against the opposite side of the connecting cellar door. I swung around and shone the flashlight at the door. The damn thing rocked in its frame.
“Come on, Wilde,” Smith snorted. “Let’s get to that fucking ladder.”
I swung the flashlight back to the left corner of the cellar, lighting up the wooden ladder. Smith snatched the flashlight from my hand.
“Use your own damn light,” he grunted, shining the beam up the ladder rungs.
I fished around in my jacket pockets and found my flashlight. Smith strode across the basement floor with the girls following closely behind him. I clicked on my flashlight and swung around when I heard the connecting door burst open behind me.
CHAPTER SIXTY
Several ghouls barged their way into the basement through the now open door.
“Hurry it up, Wilde Man,” Smith yelled, halfway up the cellar ladder. The two Caribbean girls, Ronda and Mia crowded the rungs behind him.
I turned back to the doorway and swung my oar at the nearest zombie stumbling towards me. I had to swing the weapon one handed as I gripped my flashlight tightly in my left fist. The oar blade smashed into the side of the ghoul’s head, producing an audible crack and the blow sent the creature reeling into a couple more undead to my left. I had a little space and a brief amount of time. I turned and rushed across the basement floor for the ladder in the corner.
Smith grunted as he slammed his shoulder against the bottom of the basement hatch that led to the upper floor.
“Come on, Smith,” I yelled from the bottom of the ladder. “Hurry it up and open up that hatch.”
I turned back to the connecting doorway and saw more zombies stumbling through into the basement. Mia and Ronda screeched as my flashlight beam shone into the cataract eyes of the approaching undead.
“Something’s jamming the damn hatch from up top,” Smith shouted. He roared deeply like a wild beast and bashed the top of his shoulder, the back of his head and neck against the underside of the hatch.
I heard the sounds of furniture overturning from the floor above and the wooden hatchway slammed open and fell back on itself onto the upper level. Dim daylight shone through the open hatch and Smith scrambled up the ladder onto the upper floor. Mia and Ronda quickly followed. I turned off my flashlight and shoved it into my jacket pocket.
A ghoul took a swipe at me and I felt the cool air rush beside the side of my face. I gripped the oar two handed and bludgeoned the attacking zombie around the top of the head. I turned and leapt up the first few ladder rungs. A hand grabbed my left ankle and tried to pull me back down onto the ground. I kicked out and stamped at the grasping fingers around my boots. I twisted and drove the paddle blade downwards into a gaping mouth. The ghoul’s jaw split away from the rest of the face and the body sank down into the growing, undead crowd. The hand gripping my ankle went limp and slipped away. I hauled myself upward, one handed pulling myself up the ladder rungs and kicking out with my feet.
“Come on, Wilde Man,” Smith bellowed. He leaned down through the hatchway and reached out with his left hand.
I reached up with my right, gripping the oar in my left hand. Smith wrapped his fingers around the palm of my outstretched hand and grunted as he hauled me upwards. I banged my right knee on the wooden hatch surround but the pain quickly receded. I scrabbled my feet, trying to make sure I was on solid ground. Smith pulled me clear of the hatch and I stumbled and sank onto all fours on a dark wooden floor.
Smith spun around and slammed the hatch door closed, partially blocking out the moans and wails from the creatures in the basement beneath us.
“Holy fuck,” I gasped, breathing heavily.
“Take a few seconds, Wilde Man but we need to be heading out of here real quick,” Smith said from somewhere behind me.
I glanced around. Mia and Ronda stood close together with terrified expressions on their faces. We were inside a similar sized bar to ‘The Great Escape’ next door, with only the layout slightly different. Two smaller bar counters lined each side of the room and a heavy looking black colored audio speaker sat upturned on its back near the closed cellar hatch. Wooden boards were crudely nailed over the front windows and the entrance of the bar. Some of the boards hung loosely, their fixtures had obviously fallen away. I saw movement outside in the street, plodding figures shuffled by the windows, thankfully not stopping to glance through the cracks in the covering boards.
“Okay, Smith,” I whispered, pushing myself upright. “I’ve had my few seconds. Let’s go.”
Smith patted me on the shoulder. “Let’s try and make it out of this place without falling through the goddamn floor this time, eh, kid?”
I nodded. “I’m all for that, Smith.”
Smith glanced at the two girls. “I presume there is a back door out of this place?”
Ronda nodded nervously and pointed to an unlit bathroom sign between the two counters. We turned away from the boarded up windows and headed for the rear of the bar area. Smith led the way and I ushered Mia and Ronda to follow while I took up the rear position in our line.
The door leading to the bathrooms was closed. Smith opened it up a little and peered through the crack. He turned his head back to face us.
“Looks all clear through there,” he said. “Don’t know how good the floor is though.”
Smith opened the door fully and prodded at the wooden floorboards beyond with the end of his oar. I saw another closed door at the end of a short corridor and two white painted bathroom doors to the right, a similar layout to the adjacent bar exit.
“Seems okay,” Smith muttered, prodding the floor and slowly moving into the passageway. “Tread lightly though. We’ll go through one at a time.”
The two girls and I nodded in unison.
Smith reached the fire exit door unscathed and without falling through the floor. He pressed down on the exit door release bar and opened it up slightly. Dull daylight filtered through the crack, along with the stench of bonfire smoke and dry, gritty sand blew in through the doorway. A rattle of gunfire pounded from somewhere nearby.
“See anything out there, Smith?” I asked.
“Lots of things, but none of them any good,” Smith muttered. “Those guys are getting real close. We need to haul ass.”
“You two go across the floor to the exit,” I said to Mia and Ronda. I figured Smith probably weighed more than both the girls combined. If the floor could take his weight, then surely they’d be okay crossing the passageway together.
Ronda gazed at me with uncertainty in her eyes.
I nodded. “Go on, you’ll be okay,” I said.
They huddled close together and padded across the floor to where Smith crouched beside the exit door. They leaned with their backs flat against the wall to the right and behind Smith’s haunches.
“Come on, Wilde Man,” Smith hissed. “Let’s get a damn move on, kid.”
I trod across the boards and hesitated when I heard a creaking sound.
“Don’t sweat it, kid. They’re just old boards,” Smith growled.
I continued onwards and heard another creaking sound when I drew level with the bathroom doors. Mia shrieked in a shrill gasping sound. I wondered what the hell was going on for a split second. I felt a bony hand on my shoulder and turned my head. A ghoul reached out from the open bathroom door and its gaping jaws were inches from my face.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
I twisted and tried to swing around. The semi naked, male ghoul was big and towered above me. It gripped the material of my jacket as I attempted to shrug off the grasping hand. I didn’t have time to swing the oar or reach for any of my firearms.
I raised the oar so the handle pointed vertically and thrust it in a jarring, upward motion, catching the creature beneath the lower jaw. The blackened teeth clattered together and its head rocked backwards. The motion caused the zombie to stumble backwards through the gent’s bathroom doorway. I spun the oar around in my hands so the blade pointed outwards and away from me, facing the big zombie.
The creature regained its balance and came at me again. I stabbed the paddle forward, aiming for my attacker’s head. The base of the oar blade thumped into the ghoul’s skull, slightly above the bridge of the nose and between its eyes. It stumbled back and I repeated the process with more pressure. This time the oar split the zombie’s skull at the top of the cranium with a cracking, squelching sound. Blackened blood and dark gray brain matter oozed from the splitting wound and slopped over the bathroom floor. The big ghoul tottered and went down, collapsing against a white porcelain sink to the left of the bathroom.
I spun around when I heard a stifled, shriek behind me. Mia, Ronda and Smith stood in the bathroom doorway. The girls were wide eyed in shock, covering their cheeks with their hands. Smith looked on and gave me a nonchalant nod. He theatrically ushered me out of the bathroom and towards the fire exit door. We huddled in the passageway and crowded around the small gap in the doorway.
“Okay, everybody stay real close,” Smith said. “Let’s try not get separated and we’ll head for the harbor, got it?”
We all nodded. It was time to go.
Smith pushed the fire exit door wide open and we scurried out into a back street littered with debris and split trash sacks and overflowing garbage bins. Black smoke billowed into the gray sky, possibly from a burning building a few streets away. Gunfire from somewhere nearby broke the eerie silence as we ran through the back street. The narrow road ran horizontally along the rear exits of the bars and clubs we’d seen from the front entrances. Smith led the way and veered to the right along the dust covered surface. A rusting corrugated iron fence stood lining the opposite side of the road, with a few brown bushes and sprouting weeds in front of it. I noticed a sizable gap between two of the rotting metal panels.
“We can get through that fence, Smith,” I said, pointing to the hole. “It’ll save us running all the way around the buildings in this damn street.”
Smith swiveled his head and picked up at where I was indicating.
“Good call, kid,” he said and we changed direction, heading for the gap in the fence.
Mia stumbled on a stray brick lying in the center of the road. I grabbed her arm and stopped her from falling.
“Steady now,” I whispered.
She returned an admonishing glare. They obviously didn’t need to be patronized.
Smith trudged through the bushes and weeds then moved the dilapidated corrugated iron panel with the side of his oar blade. Mia and Ronda followed him through the gap. I took a brief glance behind us to check nobody, alive or dead had spotted us before sliding through the hole.
Another thick, brown bush sprouted from the ground and partially covered the gap in the fence on the opposite side. Spiky branches and crispy leaves slapped against my face as I crawled through the foliage.
“Hey, Wilde Man,” Smith called out. “Over here.”
I stumbled through the low hanging branches and over a slight rise in the ground. Smith and the two girls stood beside a wonky signpost at the edge of another narrow street. Smith pointed to the sign. It read ‘Harbor’ in white lettering with an arrow pointing to the left of a curve in the street.
“At least we’re on the right track,” I said. “How far do you think it is?”
Smith shook his head. “Can’t be far away now. I think if we follow the street around we should be able to see it from our position.”
“You have a boat waiting in the harbor?” Mia asked. “Is that why you want to get there so badly?”
“We sure do,” Smith snapped.
“It’s out at sea at the moment but as soon as they see us signaling from the jetty, they’ll sail alongside and get us onboard,” I explained.
“That sounds risky,” Ronda scolded, shaking her head. “Especially if you are being hunted down by these gunmen.”
Right on cue, another burst of semi automatic gunfire ripped through a street somewhere to our left. The island mob was still out of sight but they could come marauding into view at any moment.
“Do you know who these guys doing the shooting are?” I asked.
The girls shook their heads.
“There are lots of farms and plantations up in the hills and last I heard, they all got together to form one big gang. They live rough in the countryside but most of them were robbers and bandits anyhow,” Ronda explained.
“Does the name Samuel B. Moses mean anything to either of you?” Smith asked.
Both girls suddenly looked afraid. Their eyes widened and they cowered slightly.
“Why do you ask about him?” Mia said.
Smith shrugged. “Just a name we heard bandied around a little. Do you know who this guy is?”
Ronda glanced up and down the road, leaned forward and whispered, as though Samuel B. Moses was in within earshot. “He used to own some of these clubs and bars in La Bahia Soleado. He was also into pimping girls, smuggling guns and drugs, running a protection racket. Anything that was bad, he was involved in it. He is not a man you want to cross.”
Smith and I exchanged a brief glance.
“He sounds like a real charmer,” Smith said.
“We should get going to the harbor,” I said, gesturing with my head in the direction of the signpost arrow.
“Wait,” Mia said, as I started to walk.
“What do you mean, wait?” I groaned, feeling a little pissed off. We’d spent the last few minutes standing around talking. We didn’t have time to wait.
“That signpost is for vehicles,” Mia said, flashing me a sarcastic smile. “If you want to get to the harbor on foot, there is a much quicker way.” She pointed to a narrow, cobbled stone alleyway, lodged between two buildings on the opposite side of the street.
Smith grinned. “That told you, Wilde Man.”
I felt my face redden slightly and could only pull a dumb, sheepish expression. “Okay, lead the way,” I said.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
Mia and Ronda huddled together, walking in front of Smith and I towards the alleyway on the opposite side of the street. It felt a little awkward, as though we were pursuing two girls like we were trying to get them to come out on a date. We didn’t know them and they could be leading us astray. I didn’t feel comfortable with trusting people I’d only just met.
The alley was dark and the adjacent buildings overhung the cobbled pathway. It was more like a tunnel. Sand blew in my face and my guts churned as we entered the passage. Mia and Ronda slowed and glanced down the length of the alley. Smith and I closed the gap between them and us and I was relieved when I saw daylight at the end of the passageway. I d
idn’t only see the gray sky beyond the opening at the opposite end of the alley, but the choppy green sea, with waves splashing around the supporting structures of the harbor jetties. We were almost there.
“Keep going,” Smith growled at the girls in front of us.
We moved in a kind of box formation, the two girls at the front, not wanting to press on too quickly and Smith and I behind, trying to quicken the pace.
The alley opened out into a small cobbled street and I started to recognize the surroundings. I hadn’t noticed the alley when I was last in the vicinity but the boarded up stores and bars were pretty much in a similar condition. Only a few undead staggered around, which was a slight relief. The rest of the zombie horde had obviously moved further into town, attracted by the regular bursts of gunfire from the rampaging islanders.
The girls saw the remaining undead and stopped moving. Mia pointed at the staggering ghouls.
“They’re still around here,” she whispered.
“Nothing we can’t handle,” Smith said, with a little too much boastful bravado for my liking. He wielded the oar in his hands and smacked the blade against the palm of his hand.
The girls allowed Smith and I to take the lead and hustled close behind us. We plodded further into the street, glancing in all directions. I felt as though the few undead were dangerous enough but the thought of the gunmen suddenly opening fire on us out in the open was a greater hazard.
A sudden banging noise to my left caused me to turn sharply. A wooden board, caught in the sea breeze and covering a small general store door slapped against the frame. My nerves jangled and I sensed we were being watched and not only by the small crowd of undead now shuffling our way.
“We should pick up the pace, Smith,” I said. “Those dead goons could surround us if we don’t hurry it up.”
More loud gunfire blasted and sounded as though it came from the street directly behind the harbor.
“See,” I hissed. “They’re getting closer.”
Smith glanced around behind us and then scanned the side alleys running between the harbor town bars and stores. “Maybe we should move along a little quicker,” he muttered.
The Left Series (Book 7): Left Amongst The Corpses Page 25
