by Mark Clodi
Katie nodded, Randy just shook Heath's hand in a wooden manner. Then the special forces operative turned and strode back through the building turning down a corridor that led north, instead of back the way they had come.
“What do you think he is going to do?”
“Create a distraction. I hope it's big.” answered Randy.
Heath headed towards the light at the end of the hallway. The fire escape door was clear glass and he approached it warily. Most of the zombies were in the streets to the west of the building, but enough of them were flocking to the area that they were spilling around to the north side as well.
'Good the crowd is thinner here.' he thought as he walked close enough to the door to see outside. He looked into the crowd for the controlling zombies, the ones everyone called super zombies, Heath didn't see any. Ahead of him the city's open park cut a green swath between him and lake Michigan. The pavilion he was aiming for was about two hundred meters away. Heath had a distinct advantage in Chicago, he knew the city. As a younger man he had been to many concerts and festivals along Lake Shore Drive in his time and he was familiar with the park ahead of him. The park had its own speaker system, far below the usual standard that musicians used, but adequate to get sounds out to large masses of people in the park when announcements were needed. That was the building Heath was aiming himself towards. There were only two hundred or so slow zombies between him and it. 'One per meter.' he told himself, 'I can do this. I was born to do this.' Before exiting the door he went down on his knees, crossed himself and said a brief prayer that ended with “...mom, I will see you soon! Amen.” Heath stood up and slung his rifle over one shoulder, pulling the strap tight so it would not fall off or impede his running. He took his pistol in his off hand and pulled out the kukri with his right. For the close in and dirty fighting he knew the rifle's power would not be needed, besides he was optimistic he could make it without firing a shot. Heath plotted his course one last time and then pushed through the fire door.
He made it over a hundred meters before he made his first kill. The zombies saw him, but he was in the prime of life, he ran five miles a day carrying a heavy pack and now he was carrying next to nothing. The zed who had gotten too close was brought down by a single sharp blow from the twisting, curved blade. Twirling away from the blow, Heath spun away from the zombie's companions and kept running for his objective. The zombies were not as densely packed in the park and, as he had hoped, he did not have to fire a single shot to reach the stage where he had once assisted a band in setting up their music system. The door was padlocked from the outside, without hesitation Heath pounded the kukri into the door, then barreled into it with the side of his body. The door and lock gave away too easily and he sprawled onto the floor of the room beyond. 'Fuck! Look at mister special forces now!' he thought while getting up. He kicked the door shut behind him with one foot and secured his pistol back in its holster. Holding the door with one hand he opened the fuse box next to it and flipped all the breakers to 'on', which powered up the room he was in, he hoped. Nothing came on or hummed to life when he flipped the switches, but there was not much in this room either. He closed the fuse box and pulled a ratty t-shirt off of a shelf near the door. Heath draped the shirt over the box to hide it from casual view. Still holding the door shut he flipped on the industrial light switch on the other side of the door, the light went on just as a zombie tried to push into the room. He was shoved back, but not far enough for anyone to get inside the room. Looking at the shelves he thought he could pull one set down in front of the door, with his gun hand free he pulled on them experimentally. They didn't budge. The shelves were mostly empty, there were a few other ragged shirts on them, left over from some concert or another and a cardboard box that displayed the size of the cups within on its side. The shelf was wood with a metal frame, giving Heath an idea, he punched upwards from below it and sure enough the wood popped off and clattered sideways at an angle, he caught it before it fell to the ground. Holding the door with his back he maneuvered the piece of wood between the door knob and the floor, it would not hold the zombies for long, but what he was after was not in this room.
After he had the door wedged shut he cautiously took his weight off of it and stepped back. The zombies outside pounded on it and the board bent alarmingly, but held. Heath turned and fled the length of the room towards the two doors located there. He choose the one on the right hand side and to his relief found that it was not locked. Once inside he shut it and twisted the deadbolt to lock the door behind him. The short passage he was in led to a set of concrete steps that ended in a small, glass enclosed office filled with electronic equipment, Heath punched buttons and turned on everything he could, then looked at the large directional button that was mounted to the wall. Outside of the glass booth he could see the stage, for concerts the massive doors would be lifted up, this was what the buttons were for, to raise and lower the doors.
Heath pulled a cable free from an ancient compact disc player that was covered in decals and sticky with spilled drinks and dust. Taking out his mp3 player he plugged the cable in, turning on his device he scrolled down the list of music, “What is the best music to die to?” he said out loud. A crash sounded from the room beyond as the zombies made it through the door. In no hurry he frowned, then said, “No, what is the best music to save the world to?” then repeated 'no' to himself several times as the zombies started pounding on the door to the room he was in. “Well fuck it, when in doubt go hard or go home. But don't go home hard.” smiling he thought of his friends and him coming up with the line at one of many of the parties he had been to. Setting his mp3 player on the stereo he pressed pause, then hit the button to open the stage doors. He had to hold the button for the doors to go up, if he were to let off of it the door would stop. Slowly the park was revealed, there were a smattering of zombies milling about a few of whom looked towards the stage at the movement of the doors.
Grabbing the well used and old fashioned looking microphone Heath pressed the button down and was rewarded with a clicking noise from all the speakers of the park.
“Hello? Is this thing on? Well ladies and gentlemen and zombies. I would like to welcome you to the park today to celebrate...to just celebrate life. That is what we are celebrating; living here in Chicago on a sunny day in July. These songs go out to my good friends Katie and Randy; I sure hope they are safe and making progress in their lives. I didn't know you long, but I think I knew you well.” The door was up and the zombies were starting to head towards the stage. 'Almost like a normal concert.' he thought. Heath made sure the volume was turned up as high as it would go. Behind him the door started to buckle.
“It is just about time for the stage show. Enjoy it folks.” Pressing play on his mp3 player Heath unshouldered his rifle and stepped out of the booth, then walked the short distance to center stage. He went down on one knee and took his first shot at a zombie near the middle of the street where he had come from. The shot, through a fluke, training or luck, struck true and the zombie's head exploded into bloody fragments. The first song, “Iowa”, played until Heath ran out of rifle ammo, as the song wound down he tossed the rifle down and drew his pistol and knife. The zombies were crawling onto the stage now as the next random track began to play, laughing Heath threw himself into the fight as 'Let the Bodies Hit the Floor' played throughout the park.
On the rooftop Katie and Randy were able to watch the man fighting on the stage, the building was high enough to give them a perfect view over the trees and of all their objectives.
“It isn't real. No one can fight like that. No one...” Katie said.
“Unbelievable. Only in movies...” Randy said, then stopped, “Katie, get your rifle ready. I wouldn't want to be eaten alive. It's the least we can do.”
“Got it.” she quickly set up her rifle, muttering, “Hold on, hold on, just a few more seconds...okay, I got him. He is moving too fast. Christ!”
Randy looked pale in the afternoon sunlight, �
��Well you don't want to shoot him yet, this is...this is art. Wait until they catch him. If they can.”
Heath's movements on the stage sprang closer when Katie put her eye to the rifle's sights. The zombies could not touch him, the mob was too slow. Heath's pistol was empty, but he used the weapon as a club swinging it around to crush in the skulls and throats of the zombies that reached for him. He never stayed in one place for more than a moment and Katie saw the sheen of sweat on his face as he danced his last moves for the crowd of undead. He screamed something, but they could not hear it over the blaring music. Amazingly the zombies stopped attacking and formed a circle around him, a circle that parted to let three super zombies move to the edges.
“You seeing this? Are you getting this?” Katie asked.
“Yeah, same as you.” said Randy, who had a small pair of binoculars to his eyes. Both of them intently watched the show as they crouched down behind the parapet of the building.
Heath stood up straight and Katie almost shot him then, she had a clear line to him and he would have died instantly. But Heath clearly mouthed 'Not yet.' very slowly. The super zombies in front of him didn't seem to notice, but he had followed up his overly slow, exaggerated words for Katie with some conversation she could not catch, it seemed to include a lot of swear words, from what she could tell. Quick as a flash the three super zombies attacked Heath, he avoided one zombie completely, brought his knife down on another one's arm, severing it between the elbow and shoulder and was hit fully by the third. Heath's knife tumbled from his hand to the ground, but he brought his pistol up and slammed it into the side of the zombie's head as they tumbled to the ground. The zombie, a heavy set Caucasian who looked to be in his mid twenties, was not killed, but released his grip on Heath's knife arm to clutch at its head. Rolling and standing Heath swept the feet out from under the zombie with the severed arm. The third, zombie an African American woman with tight, curly hair and ivory teeth charged Heath, but it was a feint and when he reacted to her charge, she ducked sideways and rolled to the ground beyond him, clutching her prize in one hand; Heath's dropped kukri. The head injured zombie was on its feet again, forcing Heath to act, he launched a kick with a heavy boot at the already injured head. He followed it up with a quick spinning backhand with his pistol that caved in the heavy set man's fore head. The zombie fell backwards and didn't move again.
“He put that pistol through the guy's skull. I know he is strong, but that is, that is just not possible.” Randy said.
“I know, and he looks like he is on fast forward, he is matching them in speed, I don't know how long he can keep that up.”
The answer was not long at all. The one armed zombie tackled Heath from the side as he was spinning to face the woman with his knife. They were both pushed towards the front of the stage by the blow, but neither fell. Heath used the opportunity to smash directly down onto the top of the grappling zombie's head, which took it out of the fight almost immediately. His victory over the second zombie was short lived when a metal blade appeared, as if by magic, cutting through his right side, just under his rib cage. The blade passed through his flesh and abdomen almost to his spine and he immediately sagged downward. The woman caught him by the neck from behind and supported him with one hand. Letting go of the knife she spun him around and held him up in front of her. Heath's head slumped to one side, bringing his face into Katie's view, a bubble of blood formed on his lips.
“Do it.” Randy said gruffly.
Katie looked at her lover, he was a pale gray now, sweating profusely from the exertion of climbing the stairs while wearing his camo suit. His breathing was still ragged, while hers had slowed down to normal after the long climb up. She nodded and sighted down her rifle, looking towards the strip of green between them and the water front. A moment later a single shot rang out and both he and Katie slumped quickly behind the parapet of the building out of sight.
Chapter 43
“What the fuck just happened?” Harry shouted, clutching his head. Aubrey slumped against a counter set to one side of the main hall.
“My guess.” she started as she pulled herself up and dusted off her shirt, “Is that Ramey just got killed in Nebraska. We've got to pull the zombies into Iowa now, while they are still close by.” Aubrey's voice was cold and logical. “This is going to take some effort.”
“How?” Harry started, then simply nodded and closed his eyes. “It is a battle of wills and we are five hundred miles away!”
“We'll give up the center and pull zombies in from Kansas City and from the north, near, Sioux City. That will keep them busy for the time being, even if the main attacks are disjointed.”
“What about the east side?”
“We wait a day, let the west side draw the reinforcements away, then we crash the party with everyone we have there.”
“How did this happen?”
“We underestimated Ramey's opponent. It had to be one of Neil's guys. Fucking Sentry was a moron to decentralized control like this.”
Harry nodded, a light sheen of blood had broken out on his forehead, a few minutes went by before Ella barged through the front doors of the Art Institute, “There is gunfire from two different areas outside, I thought we only had one group of people to deal with?”
Harry looked at Aubrey, “Well?”
“Collect these local guys, now we need them alive more than ever. Have Ella do it, she hasn't really been that useful anyway.”
Ella folded her arms and responded acidly, “Don't let her talk to me like that! Make her go clean up this mess, she is the one who didn't tell you they were coming into town!”
Aubrey looked levelly at Ella, “Ella, I do not have time for this shit. Can you control thousands of zombies from five hundred miles away? How about even one zombie from a block away?”
The other woman sputtered and pointed, then Harry intervened, “What Aubrey means Ella, is that your talents would be better served running down the ten or so people with the guns, I am sure you can get them here in one piece for us to...play with. Just take care of this for me would you? I need to have a few very stern words with Aubrey and then her and I need to finish up this other little problem that I haven't had a chance to tell you about. So please, could you run these humans down?”
Ella folded her arms across her chest, Aubrey pointedly ignored her by closing her eyes. Finally Harry cleared his throat and asked, “Please dear?”
“I don't have to bring them all back do I?”
Sighing Harry said, “I supposed you can play with one. Only one! Pick someone young and stupid looking and make sure he isn't damaged so much that we can't pick his brains if we need to bring him back to health. Just in case he knows something.”
Smiling Ella said, “Okay Harry! I will do it! You can count on me.” Beaming the woman pointed out a couple of super zombies who were still holding the doors open and said, “Come with me boys we are going after some bad guys!”
The doors silently closed and Aubrey cracked one eye and said, “She is high maintenance.”
“A bitch too. I think our experiment is about over with her.”
“I hope she brings some of them back alive. We will need the energy, we can kill them and question them afterward. I wonder what would happen if we drained their blood out and then fed it to them, would the energy from their own blood be enough to bring them back? We know the blood holds onto it longer than it takes for someone to die.”
Harry shook his head, “You come up with the damnedest things. We can try it. We will, unless we need it too badly.”
Chapter 44
“Something has changed.” Max said, bringing the group to a halt with an outstretched arm.
“What?” asked Stewart, taking bullets out of her borrowed police belt and reloading her pistol.
“The local zombies are not acting like anyone is really controlling them. It is more like a mob again. Some of them, up ahead of us, seem to be getting it together, but the ones behind us aren't doing much
more than standing there.”
“So we go back?” Stewart asked skeptically.
Shaking his head Max said, “No. Even moving like typical zeds there are more than we can handle.”
“So why are you wasting our time stopping us?” asked Stewart taking aim and shooting a zombie that was getting too close. “That is the place up ahead of us, I think. The Art Institute?”
“Hey Ruben!” called Max, “Are they in place yet?”
“No word. I will ask.” said Ruben, the old man was huffing and puffing from his exertions in keeping up with the squad. He and the three other old men, all over sixty, were red in the face and while Max hated to admit it, they were slowing the entire squad down. Behind the soldiers on the street the mob continued to press forward slowly, like an ocean of rotted humanity. Every once in a while a faster zombie would launch out of the crowd behind them, a couple of times these zombies had come within feet before being shot.
Slinging his rifle, Ruben pulled up the walkie talkie and sent out a coded signal, it was responded to immediately, “Yes! They are in place.” Listening intently for a moment Ruben waited for the sounds to end, then keyed back a brief message, “They think he is in the Art Building, they saw a woman and a bunch of supers heading our way. Plus there are a bunch in the park ahead of us.”
“Alright, let's go, we run by, fire into the art institute, toss in a bunch of grenades and high tail it out of here.”
“We are slowing you down.” Ruben said as much to Bill as to Max.
“Yeah, you old geezers better suck it up and get moving, we can't afford to coddle you anymore.” Bill said.
Ruben looked at him for a moment, the laughed, “You're one to talk sergeant!”
Behind them several fast zombies made a break for them all at once. The three older men, Dan, Kirk and Larry were tired and caught off guard by the rush. Dan went down with two zombies tackling the man as he fought to cock his rifle, which he had just reloaded. Stewart gave a yell and charged back into the whirling melee, shooting her pistol as she went.
