“Holy shit!” Justin exclaimed looking upwards and pointing at one of the high-rise buildings.
As I glanced in the direction Justin was motioning towards, I felt like we were on a float in the Thanksgiving Day parade. There were hundreds of zombies clawing and gnawing against every window of every building as we were driving by. Trapped like mice in a cage, they were trying desperately to get to their passing prey in the outside world. There had to be thousands of undead trying to make their way out of the buildings in the business district. Such a comforting thought.
It now became obvious why the streets were so quiet. It appeared as if the concentration of zombies that were feeding freely in streets of the inner city had now begun migrating back outwards towards more heavily populated areas. Dead flight to the suburbs had begun. Those who were left behind were now trapped in the numerous buildings, without the dexterity to release themselves from their glass and concrete cages. How ironic that the suburbanites who commuted to Detroit to work in the many office buildings had now been caught up in the ultimate rat race.
I reflected about the economic collapse in Detroit, the decades of fiscal mismanagement and obscene public corruption. There was no shortage of financial scams, drug dealing and robbery before the world went to hell in one of the nation’s deadliest cities. Without a police force or military to keep things in check, it probably went from a managed warzone to all out anarchy rather quickly. The criminal element would probably reach new lows in this struggle for survival. I felt great pity for the good people trapped between them and the undead.
We continued on to our destination while avoiding the occasional zombie, and I took a few side alley shortcuts to lose some of the loose runners we had attracted. I finally stopped at a dead end a few blocks away from the Gentleman’s Club and waited a few moments to make sure we were in the clear. I exited the SUV and walked around the back with my SOG tomahawk, which was equipped with a breaching tool. I went to the manhole cover behind the vehicle and removed it, backing the SUV over the opening and parking it there. Justin and I exited fully armed and ready to go.
“What are we doing? Didn’t you say that the club was down the street?” Justin asked as he was tearing into his third bag of Gummi Bears since we had left.
“It is,” I replied to Justin showing him the series of texts, “but something isn’t right. Why would he be waiting out in the open and all exposed if he has had to be in hiding all this time? Sure there’s a chance that he cleared the area out, or the herd migrated somewhere else, but I’m not getting a good feeling about this. We both saw what was inside the buildings we passed. It just isn’t making much sense.”
I crawled under the SUV and entered the open manhole. Justin crouched down and asked why we were entering the underground utility tunnels.
“Back when we weren’t old enough to get into the clubs, we used to sneak into them through these utility tunnels. They date back to the days of the Purple Gang and prohibition and run all over the downtown area.”
“What about the possibility of infected rats or worse down there?”
“I’m taking a chance that whatever vermin is infected made its way to the surface and is feeding off the best available food source. If not…” I answered with the shrug of my shoulders.
I knew the underground system fairly well in this area of the city, as the bars and clubs may have changed names but their business and clientele stayed somewhat consistent through the years. A series of access points were available to us from here to our destination and beyond.
Justin had a tactical light on his AR-15, which allowed for a pretty decent preview of the terrain ahead of us. I held off on using my tactical light in order to conserve the battery. Better to have Justin sighted in with his light than to walk around waving mine.
It was damp and cold, but there wasn’t much standing water given the tunnels were designed for utilities and not water run-off. I advised Justin that I wanted to overshoot our target and get a better look of the area before we entered the club itself. If there was something amiss, I didn’t want to pop up into the middle of it unprepared.
I estimated that we had walked several blocks and were near the club, when I diverted us south to the first available access cover. As I climbed up and nudged the heavy steel plate to get a better look, I was thankful that heavy vehicle traffic along Michigan Avenue wasn’t something that I was going to have to worry about today. Peeking through the crack I could make out the fence line of the secured parking lot.
Outside the fence line, there was a good amount of carnage. Corpses lined the sidewalk and street, vehicles were strewn about, and the stench of rotting flesh was stifling. I could see what appeared to be a larger man wearing baggy jeans, a denim coat, and a full Deadmau5 head mask standing in the middle of the lot looking around. I knew Jamie had worn such an outfit for their Halloween parties in the past, but this was just out of place. It could have been him, but I needed to be sure.
I took out my phone and texted Jamie, indicating that we were approaching from the east along Michigan Avenue and would be there in less than a minute. The larger man wearing the foam mask reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. He appeared to be typing something and then placed the phone back in his pocket. I received a text from Jamie’s phone that read, “K, still in the lot”. Just then, the man yelled out “Get ready, they’re coming from that way!” as he pointed down Michigan Avenue.
“We’ll divide up the goods, but don’t kill the women if there are any,” he yelled as he turned and looked up towards the rooftop, “it’s been too long since we had fresh meat!” His words were met with a round of thunderous round of hooting and hollering.
My suspicions were correct. The guy in the lot wasn’t Jamie and a quick scan of the rest of the building confirmed that they weren’t part of a welcoming party. There were at least three to four other people who were armed with long guns and in a prone position along the roof line of the club. This was to be an ambush. The corpses lining the fence line weren’t zombies. They were obviously victims to this group of savage scavengers who were setting up traps for unsuspecting victims looking for shelter and supplies.
My heart sank as I thought about all of the victims littered about. How horrible their last thoughts must have been as they were slaughtered. They approached seeking refuge and a false hope of survival, only to be mercilessly butchered.
I waved off the approach to Justin who was covering me from the tunnel below. I replaced the cover and came down to tell Justin what I had found. He was just as concerned as I was at the problem we now faced.
“We need to create a diversion of some kind,” I said out loud as I began to formulate a plan of attack, “something that will allow us to keep them busy while I search the club for Jamie.”
“We don’t even know if he’s still alive. It’s pretty doubtful given the amount of damage these guys have done to anyone getting close to this place, don’t you think?”
“Jamie originally mentioned being trapped in the club, there’s a chance that he’s okay.”
“There’s also the chance that this is a death trap and we’ll be killed along with him,” Justin replied, “and that wouldn’t solve anything.”
We were outmanned, and probably outgunned, but we definitely had the element of surprise on our side. I decided that even if the possibility of Jamie being dead was a reality, we still had an obligation to deal with these assholes so that no one else would become their victims. What can I say? The duty to protect and serve doesn’t leave with the breakdown of society. It just allows for more flexibility and less paperwork.
“I think we need to take care of this problem,” I began in making my case to Justin, “if we don’t, just think of the blood that will be shed and will be on our conscious for not doing something when we had the chance to do it.”
“Killing zombies for survival is one thing, but taking a human life? Like this?”
“You can’t deny the fact that we were
lured here,” I said reassuring Justin that we were about to do the right thing, “we don’t have much of a choice. Who’s to say that they haven’t discovered the SUV and won’t be waiting there? These aren’t people any more than the zombies are, Justin. They are predatory animals who don’t have a conscious and, if anything, are more dangerous and vicious than the undead. ”
Justin turned pale upon coming to the realization I was right, that our backs were now against the wall, and something had to be done with the issue at hand.
“Ok, fine,” he said reluctantly, “what’s the plan?”
Chapter 5
I made my way back towards the club through the underground utility tunnels and up to the entrance we used back in my pre-college days. As I peered out, the scenery had changed considerably over the years. What used to be a large lot for the old Tiger Stadium parking overflow was now just an overgrown field. It was so overgrown in fact, that I had to actually exit the safety of the tunnels to get a better look at the approach to the club.
The north side of the building had a loading door, which was being guarded by one lone sentry. This guy was nothing more than a thug in his late teens or early twenties. He was poorly dressed for his job, with his saggy pants barely staying up and swimming in an oversized football jersey. He was wearing a flat brimmed ball cap and had a scarf wrapped around the lower part of his face. If this clown had to move quickly to evade a zombie attack, he wasn’t going to make it very far. At some point he would have to decide if holding onto the aged AK-47 he had meant more than holding up his pants as he ran for cover or safety.
I watched from the concealment of the overgrown brush as he seemed to light and begin smoking what appeared to be a blunt. I found it ironic that even in the face of human extinction this jackass was more concerned with getting high than staying sober and alert at his post. His misguided focus was my golden opportunity and I wasn’t about to let it go to waste.
As he patrolled the loading door, his pattern was delayed by his need to savor the smoke he was enjoying. While taking in a large hit, he paused to relieve himself on the side of the building. I approached quietly from behind and with the concealment of the tall weeds while I readied my tomahawk. I waited until he had finished his third shake before I struck him with a swift glancing blow, knocking him unconscious. I retrieved his weapon and removed his scarf, tearing it in two. I made a gag with one part, while using the other portion to hogtie him. I then dragged him back into the overgrown weeds to keep him out of the way of being seen.
I entered the unlocked loading door and made my way into the stockroom of the club. It had been ransacked and I found it difficult to navigate around all of the dumped shelving units and broken alcohol crates. I could hear motion coming from an attached office and crouched down behind some debris for cover. I tried to slide into a small beverage cooler, but there was too much debris stacked in front of it. Thankfully, in a few moments it stopped and I took out my cell phone.
I knew Justin was prepared outside and since I hadn’t heard anything to indicate that he had been spotted I sent the following text message, “SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKER!”
Yes, I did send it in all caps to indicate that I was yelling.
He must have received the message because right on cue as Justin and I had planned, all hell broke loose. Justin was to wait until I sent the text to our main target. Once he was pre-occupied reading the message, Justin was to open fire from the manhole. We turned the table on the would-be ambushers by sniping them out before they had a chance to realize where they were being attacked from.
The commotion from the office erupted into a frenzy of footsteps running towards the front entrance of the club. I rushed the door from the storage area and peered out, counting four targets making their way outside. There were two additional targets that were making their way towards a stairwell that I presumed led to the roof access door. I swung my AR-15 on its sling and brought the two on the stairwell on target, firing a volley of rounds at center mass.
They weren’t zombies, so I didn’t have to concentrate on landing head shots. The crimson explosion from their backs told me I had been successful. The two ended up tumbling down backwards on top of one another and landed in a mangled mess on the landing.
The four who were heading outside had made it into the lobby, so the shots fired from my AR-15 added to the confusion of the rounds being fired outside by Justin. They were frozen in the vestibule, not certain if they should exit or retreat. Not giving them the opportunity to do either, I opened fire with the rest of the rounds from my AR-15, dropping them all where they stood. I quickly reloaded my weapon to ensure that I had a full magazine and scanned the club for any additional trouble. What I found was disturbing.
This was the Gentleman’s Club after all, and was named appropriately. There was a stage with stripper poles and ample seating area for the patrons. It appeared some of the patrons died while getting their last lap dance. There were corpses strewn about that were missing everything from their upper torso to their heads. Some were still seated upright, while others were slumped over or had made their descent down onto the floor. There were no signs of the female entertainers however, which seemed rather odd.
I made my way to the stairs and made a tactical entry to the roof. I took about three steps before a round glanced past my forehead and shattered one of the marquee sign letters mounted behind me.
“Sorry! My Bad!” yelled Justin from below as he lowered the sights of his weapon that was pointed at me.
“Do you see my point about that red dot now?” I snapped back rubbing my forehead to reassure myself it was still attached to my skull, “We need to get you a scope for that thing that has some magnification before you kill –”
That was all I got out before I was struck from behind. I was puzzled at how a truck could have gotten up onto the roof of the club and hit me. I kept my footing as I reeled to keep conscious, and I turned to face a large bald headed man with a goatee raising two tattooed arms the size of tree trunks over my head for a second go around. Behind him I made out a familiar face – Jamie.
“No Tool! Stop!” Jamie yelled as he jumped on the back of the behemoth, “That’s the dude I was telling you about!”
“Deuces! I’m sorry man,” he said to me as he extended an arm out in apology. “I’m the bouncer at the club, force of habit I’m afraid.”
“No problem…” I muttered in reply as it was hard to argue with a man of his size. He was well over six feet tall and solid muscle - a bald headed, goatee wearing white biker version of the Hulk if ever there was one.
“The names Tool, and you must be Griff!”
I shook my head in the affirmative as I turned to acknowledge Justin, who was climbing out of cover from below.
“That down there is Justin,” I yelled pointing out the obvious, “who was supposed to have my back!”
“I didn’t want to almost shoot you again with my non-scoped red dot sight!” Justin replied back like a smart ass as he pointed to the weapon as if it was the gun’s fault.
“Jamie, are you okay? What happened?” I asked as I was waiting for the ringing to exit my ears from the blow I took from Tool.
“Long story bro,” Jamie said as he turned to go back inside. We labored for quite some time to ensure that the building was clear of any more bandits. When we were done searching the building, Jamie told us what had unfolded at the club.
Jamie started off with the night all hell broke loose. It was like any usual night at the club, with steady business flowing in from the casino and business crowd. All of this in despite of the global panic brought on by the spread of the virus that was being televised on every channel. Jamie was too busy organizing and mixing his set as the DJ to notice that things weren’t right and were beginning to deteriorate in the club.
Earlier in the night, some of the girls had complained of feeling sick and a few were delayed on the stage due to vomiting. This wasn’t unusual due to the amount of alcohol an
d drug consumption that fueled the lifestyle for these ladies, but this was much more severe. Several of the girls ran from the stage during their set and returned to the dressing room, becoming violently ill. Management took exception to the lack of entertainment and vacancies on stage. Things boiled over when a few regular patrons began losing interest and were leaving for lack of “scenery”. One of the managers went to the girls’ dressing room to give them a “pep talk” and never made it out.
Several of the dancers had turned by this point and attacked the others. They had also taken their boss by surprise, consuming him as he entered the changing area. As they exited the dressing room hungry for more flesh, scantily clad and covered in blood, the patrons assumed it to be a fetish night and readied themselves for some wild entertainment. The glowing yellow eyes in the darkness and black lights of the club only added to their allure. The customers readied themselves one by one for their individual shows as the girls rushed out from the dressing room.
One unlucky suit-type had grabbed one of the girls by the arm as she ran out of the dressing room to feed, and spun her onto his lap. He was no doubt hoping to have her straddle him and grind to the house beats Jamie was spinning, for all the money he had thrown down for her. Jamie said that he looked on as the poor bastard swung his head back and closed his eyes in ecstasy, expecting to get his money’s worth out of this lap dance. What alerted Jamie to something not being right was the loud shriek the dancer gave that transcended his music and sent shivers up his spine.
It was then that he saw her dive into the man’s neck and came away ripping out a large piece of flesh. Her head was whipping back and forth violently as she repeatedly tore into the muscle and skin tissue from his body. Arterial spurting shot out and onto his companion next to him, who was frozen with fear.
Zombie Reign (Book 2): Rescue in Detroit Page 4
