LZR-1143: Redemption

by Bryan James

  “Time to check in,” I said softly to Kate, as I heard Rhodes’ weapon whisper twice, downing the two lone shamblers that were making their way slowly toward us from the top of the hill.

  She nodded and motioned to Ky to squat down, as Rhodes did the same several meters ahead, behind a bright green recycling bin.

  “SeaTac command, this is Seeker. Do you copy?”

  My comms were scratchy, but still operable. We had established a comm check schedule when we left. We would call in when we reached the campus, and if they didn’t hear from us in 24 hours, they would call us. No other radio traffic, to minimize noise and possible outside monitoring. They hadn’t had issues with large militias in this area, but they knew they were out there.

  I repeated my call, hoping the repeaters around the city were still functional.

  “… have you Lima Charlie. What is your position?”

  The moon, assholes. I thought we had gone over this.

  “We’re at Graceland, SeaTac. Over.”

  A moment’s pause as I watched Rhodes take careful aim at a slow form turning the corner next to the facilities building.

  “Copy that, Seeker. How’s it look? Over.”

  “Too early to tell, SeaTac. We’ll let you know when we find Elvis. Seeker out.”

  I cut off the transmission and waved the rest forward, after Rhodes. He crouched and moved to the next tree. Weaving and bobbing between cover, we made our way over the lawn to the low slatted fence surrounding the small parking lot. Through the windows of the brick building to the right, I saw movement.

  “Okay, back entrance to the hospital is ahead. However, we don’t want the this entrance. The research facility is on the opposite side of the building. There’s a large open area on the front side of the building, between us and the stadium.”

  “Jesus, not another stadium,” muttered Ky. Next to her, Romeo sighed heavily. Even though I knew he was unlikely to understand the commentary, I didn’t appreciate his attitude.

  “Yes, but we don’t have to get through this one. We just have to go around the south side of the hospital, to the front. The special entrance to the research facility is in a recessed basement on the south side, a hundred feet from the main entrance. If you see any signs for “Advanced Treatments” let me know. That’s the entrance. Good to go?”

  There were a total of four cars in the lot, all of them covered in the accumulated dust and dirt of neglect after their time sitting unattended. We picked our way through the vacant concrete space, and my eyes were pulled back up to the windows looking down on our position from the brick building to the right. Bodies moved in the building next to us, pushing against the glass and metal, staring out, trying to get to us. They were thin and their faces emaciated, as if they had been locked away for far too long.

  “You seeing this?” asked Rhodes, also sparing a glance for the building as he scanned the way ahead, taking the lead once again. He passed the front of an old imported truck and turned from side to side, night vision goggles again perched over his eyes, dull red glow a beacon in the darkness.

  “I see it,” I said, uneasy. “I don’t like it. Why are they all trapped in there? What’s the story?”

  Kate walked behind Ky, gun at the ready as she whispered.

  “Could be like King’s Park. There’s a failsafe lockdown protocol. Not sure why they’d have that at a school. My guess is that something went wrong when the alarms went off. Something with the maglocks. Engineers at the Park always complained about those things going screwy when the electricity went haywire. Maybe something like that.”

  “So these guys are locked in to the buildings?” Ky asked, voice upbeat.

  “That’s what it looks like,” I said, still uneasy, but unsure why.

  “Contact,” whispered Rhodes, motioning us to take cover behind the parked truck. We all went down fast, waiting for the whisper of his gun.

  It didn’t come.

  He stood, motionless for a moment, then his voice rose slightly. Only a small fraction of an octave, but for him, it was like a scream.

  “We need to leave, now.”

  I stood, following his gaze.

  Between where the parking lot and the utility building stood and the hospital’s back side, a two-lane road passed through. We stood near the sidewalk for the small road, looking back toward the bridge we had passed under. Conveniently, the road we now stood next to led directly to the access ramp for the interstate that crossed that bridge.

  And several thousand enterprising zombies were now shuffling down this road toward us. My only guess was that they had followed the sound of the boat.

  “Let’s go, now!” I yelled, ignoring the caution of quiet. They were too close. There was no hiding from them as they passed between the large buildings lining the road, out of place, cute signs directing people to various offices or residences.

  We shot across the roadway onto a sidewalk and up the short hill to the right, rounding the grass-lined side yard of the hospital as the massive crowd of creatures surged forward, the front-most individuals, faster than the rest of the pack, tottering within fifty feet.

  I knew how we could miss them from the water—the buildings were too tall and the creatures too silent. From our vantage point in the water, they were invisible.

  But knowing how the mistake had been made didn’t make it easier to fix.

  Ky screamed once as a small group of five or six rose suddenly from where they had been laying on the ground near the road, appearing as bodies until they heard our approach, then lifting from the ground as if pulled by strings from the heavens. Their heads swiveled toward us as we passed within ten feet, their arms scrambling awkwardly on the concrete to push their prone bodies from the ground.

  To our right, as we passed the brick building that lined the lake, we could see the massive outline of the football stadium, the huge insignia of the college team plastered against the side of the large wall. Movement on the field in front of the hospital was a bad sign, and I saw nearly a hundred of the creatures spread out across the space, all moving slowly toward us as they moved from a milling, pointless shamble or a prone position, toward the source of the noise.

  And hopefully the source of dinner.

  We rounded the side of the hospital and I blinked as the first rays of sunlight were starting to pierce the darkness on the horizon. We needed to move quickly.

  Briefly, I remembered the days when I welcomed the hint of sunrise over a beautiful scene—when I savored the promise of a new day arriving, the potential of things unknown.

  Now, things unknown would kill me, and sunlight hurt like a bitch.

  Before us, the slightly elevated circle of long, unkempt grass and weeds where there was once a showcase of greenery in front of an immaculately manicured front entrance contained eagerly moving corpses. The large sign with the medical center’s name was shattered on the cement of the sidewalk, pieces of glass and plastic strewn across the roadway, following the wreckage of an ambulance that lay on its side against the far edge of another outbuilding between the hospital and the stadium. The partially eaten, rotting corpse of a patient, still strapped to the gurney near the shattered rear doors of the vehicle, moaned balefully at us as we passed between the wreckage and the lawn.

  The remnants of a haphazard military cordon around the manicured lawn were barely discernible as a jumble of overturned barricades, abandoned Humvees, and half-constructed sandbag walls. Several of the meandering zombies bore the uniform of the National Guard, consistent with the General’s assessment of the force-protection status of the hospital when they lost contact with the Doctor weeks ago.

  Kate screamed suddenly, then cut herself off as she pressed a hand to her mouth. Rhodes cursed silently, raising his weapon and slowing his advance.

  We had turned the corner toward the main entrance, making our way to the left, where a narrow concrete ramp led gradually down to a solid, windowless gray door, roughly one floor below the ground level. But
as we turned that corner, angling toward the starkly advertised “Advanced Treatments” sign barely visible above the ramp, I held in my own gasp, instead taking a sharp breath.

  The entire facade of the hospital’s seven stories on the front side was made of glass. I supposed because Seattle gets so little sunlight in large portions of the year, it was an architectural decision that was much applauded when the building was designed and built. Natural light for the sick and the recovering patients. No brainer, right?

  I had good money on the fact they never imagined this.

  Thousands of creatures were pressed against the thick glass, bloody, pulpy fists and palms and faces smearing effluent and drool and blood against the shatterproof clear surfaces.

  The lobby.

  The emergency room.

  Every floor above. Maternity wards. Cancer patients. Trauma.

  Infectious diseases.

  They were all dead. And they were all hungry.

  They were kept inside by some glitch of the campus’ systems, either some freak accident of technical oversight, or an intentional reversal of normal systems’ operations.

  The bodies thrashed violently against the windows as we were forced to approach them, fleeing from those behind, avoiding those that approached, we neared the glass, flinching at the proximity.

  The thick clear material could keep them contained, that was obvious. But it couldn’t keep their voices from being heard. It was a chorus of hungry moans and slamming fists. Feet shuffling mindlessly against an echoing glass enclosure.

  Like so many animals in a morbid, horrific zoo, we watched them, spellbound, as we neared the glass and skirted the edge of the hospital to follow the narrow walkway down.

  “This is it, right?” said Rhodes, his voice concerned as we dropped below street level, the first of the large herd appearing around the corner and moving inexorably toward us.

  “Yes,” I said shortly, moving past Kate and Ky toward the front, the codes in my head flashing to the front of my brain.

  “If it’s not—” he began, but I cut him off.

  “I know. If we can’t get in, we’re not getting out of here.”

  The narrow cement passageway was nearly fifteen feet below the surface above, descending sharply, parallel to the front facade of the hospital. If we couldn’t get in through this door, it would be a death trap. We would die, torn to pieces in the small concrete tomb.

  At the bottom of the ramp, the passage turned sharply to the right, where the door sat, firmly shut, thick riveted bolts around the edge a testament to the hardened steel and concrete construction behind.

  Another small sign, marked “Advanced Treatments” hung awkwardly from one screw over the keypad to the right of the door. It had been pulled or knocked askew, dangled like a rotten fruit from the rusty perch.

  I didn’t pause and flew to the keypad, as the first several creatures reached the top of the ramp, eyes locked on Ky and Kate as Romeo began to bark, even sprinting briefly toward the creatures above and snapping at them before bolting back to Ky and standing, shivering, next to her upraised arm, where a crossbow was held in a rock-steady hand. Kate’s Pathfinder spoke twice, and I heard her reloading with explosive shells. Rhodes was kneeling and firing pinpoint shots into the quickly thickening crowd as they pressed forward.

  The bodies tumbled and slowed the press behind, as the corpses stumbled and fell over one another in a rush forward.

  “You hungry? Take a bite of this!” yelled Kate, and we all instinctively flinched as the roar of the explosive rounds shook the enclosed space. As I started to punch the code into the dusty pad, I heard the sickening sound of flesh exploding and splattering against the walls to either side of the passageway.

  My fingers flew on the keypad, and I slammed my finger against the ‘enter’ key as I heard the whispering rounds fly from Rhodes gun and Romeo’s frantic barks.

  Next to the keypad, a red light flashed twice.

  Nothing.

  Fuck me.

  Kate yelled again, and the shotgun spoke again, firmly and loudly. Ky screamed, and I heard the loud popping of a nine-millimeter. Rhodes was down to his sidearm, and Kate was preparing to fire again. The press of bodies had slowed through the carnage and body parts that had accumulated in the narrow space, but they were coming forward, now numbering in the hundreds beyond the bottleneck of the passageway.

  I slowed, taking a breath and punching in the numbers slowly, the nine-digit code flashing through my brain on speed dial.

  Rhodes yelled.

  “I’m out!”

  He pushed Ky behind him and drew a short machete from his hip.

  “One more!” yelled Kate, and her gun exploded.

  Ky fired a bolt over Rhodes’ shoulder as Kate’s round decimated another row of corpses, their heads and torsos shattering in a fiery rain of flesh into those behind.

  I took a breath and pressed ‘enter.’

  Next to the keypad, a red light flashed twice.

  Crap crap crap crap crap crap.

  The numbers were right. I knew they were.

  Kate looked at me, locking eyes on mine. She held up one finger.

  One round left.

  I took a breath and tried one last time.

  5 – 4 – 9…

  Rhodes’ pistol popped five times in succession.

  Ky screamed again, her crossbow twanging loudly.

  4 – 8 – 8…

  Kate’s shotgun spoke. In the midst of the exploding flesh, the moans were louder now, and I heard the sound of limbs scrambling against concrete.

  Rhodes cursed loudly, and I heard him grunt as the slide on his pistol locked back and his ammo finally went dry.

  9 – 1 – 2…

  Kate screamed as she took the head off the first of the creatures to scramble through the mess of bodies and body parts. Smoke obscured the hundreds that I knew were already in the narrow passageway. Heads appeared in the mist of gun smoke, and Ky was backed against me, a single bolt remaining, leveled at the herd.

  The keypad spoke.

  Kate was a whirlwind of blades and fury, and Rhodes retreated behind her, giving her space in the tight confines as he held his arm at an awkward angle in front of him.

  Two green lights blinked in quick succession, and the door suddenly cracked open, revealing a dark passageway behind, and allowing a burst of dank, stale air to escape.

  I threw Ky through the opening and helped Rhodes through.

  “Kate!”

  She was in a haze of battle, arms moving faster than I could track, blades a cyclone of metal and hatred.

  “We’re in! Kate!”

  Her eyes were wild, her body a machine.

  I knew the fury. I knew the pain.

  They were everywhere. She wouldn’t last. She couldn’t.

  They were legion. Bodies filled the void, pressed against concrete and surging forward. She could kill every single one and she would still die of suffocation, as they piled atop one another, sensing food and tasting blood.

  She had to stop.

  “Your daughter needs you! Get your ass inside now!”

  As if she had been punched in the gut, she collapsed backward, legs reluctantly giving way as she disengaged suddenly, turning in a flash of metal to sprint through the door.

  Blood and smoke were in my nostrils as I pulled the heavy door shut behind me, hearing it click home with a solid latch. Somewhere, something beeped twice as bodies slammed against the thick metal entryway, fists pounding against the unyielding surface.

  We were in total darkness.

  Next to me, I heard Kate begin to weep.

  THIRTY-NINE

  The air was cool and musty, much like the air inside a newly arrived commercial airliner after a long flight.

  When such things existed, anyway.

  Ky sat near Kate on the floor as she collected herself, and I gave her some water, knowing the pain of the battle madness, and how it stressed the heart. She was taking deep breaths,
and I was trying to attend to Rhodes.

  It wasn’t a bite, thankfully.

  In the madness outside, Kate had pushed him to the side and he fell on the arm at a bad angle. It wasn’t a bite, but it wasn’t good.

  The compound fracture had pushed a shard of bone from his forearm through the skin, and he was pale and weak in the faint light of my flashlight. Blood covered his arm, and I had wrapped it as tightly as I could without him passing out from the pain.

  He had popped two high potency painkillers and was staring at the wall.

  The hallway extended nearly twenty meters forward, then made a ninety-degree turn at the end, obscuring visibility. Other than the flashlights and a faint red glow near the corner where the hallway turned, there was no light. Several old posters and flyers were attached to the white wall, and on the right hand side of the passage, a fire extinguisher hung, alone in the expanse of empty wall.

  I stood, wiping bloody hands on my filthy pants. My eyes had adjusted to the dark quickly, so I flipped the light to low and handed it to Ky, who was still sitting next to Kate, talking softly.

  In the background, the hands and arms continued to slam against the metal door, as hundreds of the mindless creatures clustered in the narrow concrete passageway outside.

  Inside, there was no noise. No indication that anyone was here, or ever had been.

  It felt wrong.

  I pulled the small, waterproofed sheet from my cargo pocket again, scanning the instructions and the map. I knew we were where we were supposed to be. The code proved that, and our location was precisely where indicated on the map. I stared at the last bit of instructions on the paper, marked simply “proceed inside,” as if the person writing the curt instruction book had run out of information.

  Well, my happy ass had proceeded inside.

  Now what, you know-it-all bastards?

  “I’m going to check out the passageway,” I said to Kate, and she nodded once, trying to give me a wan smile.

  “Don’t worry. I’m just trying to find a Krispy Kreme. You want glazed?”