by Jolly, Kirk
“Hey lady!” The camera swiveled finding a red-faced older man. “You can’t be over here. Get that camera out of here!”
The workers were at the corner of the building. As they pulled away more rubble, a flash of white cloth showed through. They pulled it free and saw that the word “Help” had been scrawled across a torn lab coat.
“There’s someone down here, Chief,” they shouted at the red-faced man. “I think we’re on top of an old refrigerated unit. Wait, you guys hear that?”
The crowd grew silent straining to listen.
“Help,” came a muffled voice from the wreckage. Spurred on, the workers pulled more debris away to reveal a partially opened door.
“They must have sought refuge in the old morgue in the basement. It appears they were able to get the door partially open after the collapse to get this lab coat out signaling that somebody is inside.” Rebecca announced to the camera.
“Back off, lady,” the chief barked at her again.
It took a few more minutes for the crew to clear away enough of the wreckage to get the door opened six more inches but it was enough. They began to pull a slender girl from inside. Dusty and disheveled, she appeared otherwise okay.
“What happened, miss?” The reporter demanded shoving the microphone in her face, ignoring the tears streaming down the girl’s face. She had a story to get.
“Next time I tell you to buzz off, it’s going to get physical,” the chief growled, shielding the girl from the news crew. They backed off a few steps but no more and continued to film.
“What’s your name, dear?” he asked gently.
“Alice,” she replied in shock.
“Is there anybody else with you?” Even as the chief asked the question, the workers pulled out a young Hispanic man.
“Xavier and Josh.” She answered.
“Are they hurt?” he asked.
“And Allen. You have to find Allen.”
The workers pulled another young man from the wreckage. Both look shaken but otherwise okay.
“There’s one more,” the chief yelled over his shoulder to his crew. “I think his name is Allen.”
The group of men began calling his name and struggled to get the door open wider.
“No, he wasn’t in there with us,” Alice said looking suddenly more alert. “You have to find him. He saved us all.”
“I’m sorry, miss. Do you have any idea where he would be?”
The young Hispanic man came over.
“If he didn’t make it back to us, the only other place he could be is in the elevator.”
The chief turned to his crew. “Is the crane done clearing the elevator shaft?”
The nosy reporter droned on. “This is very exciting. We have found three survivors so far and it appears there may be another in the partially collapsed elevator shaft. Stay with me folks as we get to the bottom of this story.”
The car had plummeted the rest of the way to the basement under the weight of the collapsing shaft but had remained intact. After the crane carefully lifted away the wreckage, they tried to pry the doors open but they won’t budge. They pounded on the door and listened for any type of reply. They pounded again after a moment and waited.
A weak knock came from the other side.
Epilogue
Simmons blasted down the empty freeway toward a new city in his armored truck. The locked tool case in the back held weapons and all of his cash. He kept a shotgun and a razor-sharp machete in the passenger seat next to him just in case he ran into trouble.
This was the second time he’d pulled off a stunt like this. Find a crazed religious group, bilk them of all their money, then kill them, unleashing a wave of the Risen dead on an unsuspecting city while he scurried away into the night. He’d probably be counted among the dead and never given a second thought.
By his calculation, if he were able to pull it off two, maybe three more times, he’d have enough to buy his way into that compound in Texas that crazy billionaire had commissioned after the Event. He’d heard the rumor that if you had enough money to get in, you could live the rest of your life in luxury, never worrying about the Risen getting you. He’d go check it out and if it turned out to be lies, he’d keep moving until he found something better.
After hours of driving, he pulled off to the side of road to rest for a while. He was so far from civilization, he didn’t really worry about anybody coming up on him, alive or dead, and either way they wouldn’t be able to get into the heavily armored truck. Sleep found him instantly.
The knock on his window woke him harshly. A face peered through his window. He reached reflexively for the gun at his side.
“Open up,” the man spoke calmly but with authority.
Simmons simply gave him the bird and started the engine.
“Come on, I just need a lift.”
Simmons pressed the pedal to the floor and sprayed the man with dirt as his wheels found their traction. He looked at the man in the rear view just now considering how somebody got all the way out here alone. His car was already up to 50 when he turned his eyes back to the road. He saw a glint of metal in the road in front of him, but it was too late. The spikes didn’t puncture the thick-walled tires immediately but they stuck in enough to tangle up and began wrapping around the tire. This, combined with Simmons’ poor decision to slam on the brakes, put the truck into a slide and then he began to roll. The world went dark.
He woke with blood streaming down his face. A hand gripped his ankle, pulling him from the wreckage. It was the man that had woken him. He looked around and saw another truck and two more men. They were scooping up all his money and weapons from the road and the wreck.
“Thass miine,” Simmons slurred through a broken jaw.
The man stopped dragging him and dropped his leg. He bent over so his face filled Simmons vision.
“Look, I don’t know who you are but I do know that a man doesn’t come across that kind of cash in this world without stepping on other people. Is that what you did?”
“Fugh eewe,” Simmons spat.
“I see. Just as I thought. Well it’s time you learned what it feels like to be stepped on.”
Simmons saw the man raise his boot, and nothing else after.
About the Author
Kirk Jolly lives in Ogden, Utah with his wife and son. He divides his time between being an accountant at a trampoline company, and writing. His first full length novel, The Twins & The Raven, is due out in October 2013. Kirk loves to hear from readers, so please take the time to leave a review on Amazon, or if you have a question or comment for him, you can contact him through his Facebook page.
Follow Kirk on Facebook or Twitter for updates about future projects.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: The Service
Chapter 2: The Procedure
Chapter 3: Dying and Rising
Chapter 4: First Customer
Chapter 5: Burn the Brain, Kill the Zombie
Chapter 6: What Are You?
Chapter 7: Dinner Rush
Chapter 8: Swamped
Chapter 9: One at a Time
Chapter 10: Calm Before the Storm
Chapter 11: Shit-Covered Fan Blades
Chapter 12: ER
Chapter 13: Out of Options
Chapter 14: Plan B
Chapter 15: Burn it to the Ground
Chapter 16: Final Flight
Chapter 17: Alive?
Epilogue
About the Author
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