There was no time to discuss any of it at the moment. They needed to get away while the zekes were still threatening but not yet overrunning the base. Emma asked, “Where’s Claire? Where’s Alec?”
Danny turned to look toward the rooms in the dark corner. “I think Claire may be back there.”
Jules said, “We haven’t seen Alec since we got here.”
Jerry ran by her toward the doors to which Danny had referred. Jerry opened one but immediately ran across the hall to the next. He paused in the doorway, his breath taken away by what he saw.
Emma watched Jerry’s posture sink, his shoulders rolling forward sadly as if he was trying to wrap himself in a warm, protective cocoon. His whole body shook as he was swept by a sudden emotional wave. He didn’t seem capable of moving into the room on his own accord.
Emma stood up from the kids and walked over to where Jerry was standing. She touched his shoulder gently and stepped up next to him. The room was lit with a single, flickering incandescent bulb. The rank stench of body odor and human waste punctuated the already heavy, moist air hanging in the room.
Lying motionless atop a workshop classroom bench was the seemingly lifeless body of Claire. The gray-green tabletop surface was spattered and smeared with drops and streaks of blood, her blood.
Emma swallowed her gasp and whispered, “Do you want me to...?”
Jerry stepped into the room and slowly approached Claire. She was neither moving nor breathing. His hand shaking fearfully, Jerry reached out and touched Claire’s bruised and bloodied face. Her skin was cold and somewhat spongy, the result of the beating she had received. Jerry wasn’t entirely sure about what he was feeling.
The air was warm and sticky, like a small weight room where all the heat and smells from the lifters is trapped upon itself, and yet his skin crawled with goose bumps. His feet and hands hung so heavily at his side, but his head felt light and dizzy like a balloon threatening to drift away.
Emma, mindful of the fact that they had limited time with which to work, pivoted around Jerry. She stepped lightly, almost on her tiptoes, toward Claire. Even from this distance, she could see that Claire’s life had already fled. Seeing Claire’s mangled hands and feet on the table drew a gasp from Emma. She hoped Jerry hadn’t seen them yet. Emma knew she needed to get Jerry out of that room. She had precious little time and needed to act.
Emma grabbed Jerry’s arm and tried to pull him away but he was immovable; a statue with a vacant, pale face staring forever at his doom. Emma was suddenly gripped with fear. What if she couldn’t get Jerry on the move again? Could she keep everyone going by herself? And the fact that kept rearing its head through her doubt and indecision was that there was no time for any of it. The shooting and screaming and fighting outside was still loud and raging, but it couldn’t last. There were only so many bullets and a finite number of targets. When the shooting stopped, she would know that the clock had stopped ticking for them.
“Jerry, we need to go.” The words came without Emma’s knowledge or conscious intent. It was as if her thoughts became self-aware and took to flight of their own will. When she repeated them, she was less surprised, but in both instances Jerry either willfully ignored her or was unable to respond. Either way, her message did little to alleviate her anxiety or spur Jerry to action.
Jerry finally said, his eyes moving no more than his feet, “Go on without me. I’m gonna stay here with her. She shouldn’t be left her alone like this. She... I mean I....” His thoughts were as muddled as his speech. He was having a hard time understanding what had happened, let alone why.
Emma pleaded, “Jerry, she’s gone. I’m sorry but there’s nothing we can do for her.” She grabbed his arms and forced him around to look her in the eyes. “I need your help. Those kids...they need your help. Please.” By the time her final word emerged Emma was crying, which made her angry. She hated to cry. She resented her loss of control as a result of crying...the sniffling, the blubbering, the hyperventilating. She hated all of it.
She hated it so much that when the tears started, her mood immediately soured. Her bottom lip twitched with anger as the tears rounded her down turned mouth. She was nearing a total emotional explosion, when a familiar voice echoed from the other side of the cafeteria.
“Jerry? Emma? Where are you guys?” It was Neil and he couldn’t have arrived at a better time.
60.
Neil had neither the patience nor the immediate dexterity to hoist himself over the wall the way Emma and Jerry had done. He just didn’t have it in him at the moment.
When his bat failed to unfasten the lock or its chain counterpart, Neil held the barrel of his shotgun inches away and fired. The twelve gauge slug was more than effective; the gate flung open effortlessly after the blast.
He walked into the enclosed compound and looked around. Deciding it was prudent to use his flashlight now, he swept left and right with the beam. The left side of the yard had more cars, all of which appeared to be still serviceable and recently used. Neil wandered over to the nearest vehicle, a dark Chevy truck. He smiled when he looked in the window and saw keys on the dashboard.
He found a beat up Suburban in the front rank a little further down. Again, the keys were there. Neil propped open the doors in anticipation of a hasty exit. Under their typical circumstances, a little preparation typically went a long way and that Suburban would make a great ride out of town.
Satisfied, Neil looked the other direction only to see the kenneled zekes on the far side of the enclosure. The moaning creature in the nearest cage became much more animated when the light fell upon it.
Having had enough, Neil again raised his shotgun and fired two quick successive slugs into the beast. He was fairly certain he hadn’t dispatched it, but he had momentarily quieted it which was good enough for him.
Indeed, both of Neil’s shots had struck the creature in its upper chest; two very lethal pulls of a trigger under normal circumstances. Unfortunately, his first shot had also hit and destroyed the gate’s latching mechanism. By the time the zombie had gotten back to its balance-challenged feet, Neil was gone. The decomposing ghoul leaned forward ever so slightly and the gate gave way. It swung open slowly, uttering the creak of a long closed coffin as it did.
With unsteady but capable steps, the zombie began to make its way into the building following in Neil’s footsteps.
Meanwhile, in the cafeteria now, Neil limped across the largely dark room and thankfully found himself amongst his family. He could sense the grief before he had crossed the full distance. Seeing the children scared but safe, meant that it could only have been either Claire or Alec. Neil was about to ask as much when Danny leapt to his feet and ran full into Neil, wrapping his small arms around Neil’s waist.
Neil touched Danny on the back gently and then leaned down to return his embrace.
“I knew you’d come for us,” Danny said quietly. “I just knew it.”
Neil smiled but was unable to combat the thankful tears and so didn’t bother to try. Jules joined their hug eagerly, getting her even smaller arms intertwined tightly between Neil’s and Danny’s. The hug could have lasted longer, but an unfamiliar voice said, “I don’t think we have much time. We should be gettin’ outta here.”
Neil reluctantly pulled himself free of Danny’s and Jules’ arms. He didn’t recognize the voice any more than he did the face, but it was of little consequence at the moment. He nodded in agreement.
Emma emerged from around the corner. “Jerry needs your help,” she said. “Now.”
Neil ran to her and knew what to expect when Emma grabbed his arm as he passed and squeezed it forcefully. He stopped and looked her in the eyes to see the warning that she shared. He slowed his pace as he entered a room which reeked of loss and tears. When he touched Jerry’s shoulder, he could feel a soft, steady, but building vibration through his layers of clothing and jackets. It was an unfortunately all too familiar sensation, and one that they didn’t seem capable of esca
ping.
Jerry appreciated Neil’s sudden and unexpected appearance as much as Emma did; maybe even more so. Jerry didn’t want to have an emotional breakdown at all, but he especially didn’t want to in front of Neil, who seemed to have accepted Meghan’s death with a stoic resolve that surprised all of them. Jerry wasn’t a machismo-driven person, but he also didn’t want to appear weak when all those around needed him to be strong. He felt like he was caught in a trap
How the hell did Neil do it all the time? Jerry had seen all the telling signs of his responsibilities in Neil’s face and in the tired way in which he carried himself on occasion, but that was really as bad as it got. Neil always seemed so composed and reliable. Jerry didn’t want to be another burden to Neil.
If they were to just leave him behind, then he wouldn’t be anyone’s burden to bear. He could just stay with Claire until...well, until whatever happened next. As he thought it, Jerry recognized how ridiculous it was but that was what he wanted. He wanted to be with Claire and if that meant death or any other options, well so be it. His own internal struggle and the hard realizations of their reality finally sent him over the edge.
He doubled forward and produced a loud, long, deep wail at the tail of which the single word question stretched on and on. “Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?”
Neil stood with Jerry and didn’t say a word. He didn’t know how to help and that is likely the reason that he had appeared so stoic to Jerry and everyone else. He’d never really had to deal with loss and suddenly it was all around him, haunting his every step and every thought.
Meghan’s face, which he had yearned to see in all of his waking hours, was already starting to fade from his memory. It was drifting away on a growing, surging torrent of other faces lost to the infection and all of its destructive wrath.
And now, Jerry was suffering the same pain that Neil had somehow absorbed and, at least temporarily, avoided. He didn’t envy Jerry’s suffering but he envied Jerry’s ability to at least feel it. Hating to do it, Neil was forced to interrupt Jerry’s grieving with another reality.
“Jerry, I know that you’re going to ask to be left with Claire. And I also know that you know that isn’t gonna happen. We have to leave in one minute. You’ve got a minute with her and then we have to go, and you’re comin’ with us. I’m hurt and need your help more than ever.”
Neil waited for Jerry to stand back up, which happened slowly. When he was righted again, Jerry looked away from Neil but nodded his understanding. He held up a hand and waved Neil into the other room.
Neil complied but did not leave Jerry out of his sight, mindful of the fact that grief can sometimes cloud judgment. Neil didn’t want Jerry to try anything he or any of them would regret. He got Emma’s attention and had her stand in the doorway. Neil then went over to Jess to introduce himself.
Before Neil had a chance to speak, she said, “I’m Jess. I get that you’re Neil, but we don’t really have time for formal introductions. We really need to be getting outta here, and I mean now. Pretty soon things are gonna change out there and either them militia assholes or the skins are gonna get the upper hand and then—”
Neil nodded. “You’re right. Emma, can you help Jerry? Kids, we need to get going.”
Jules asked again, “What about Alec? He’s here somewhere too.”
61.
Alec was still carrying the shotgun he had been given despite having no bullets for it. He was dragging it absently behind him by its strap. He resembled a tired boy at the end of a long day of playing. His steps held no enthusiasm and his stare, struggling to see in the inadequate lighting produced by waving flashlights and random fires, was distant and vacant.
Alec’s surroundings were unfamiliar and chaotic. People were running to and fro, shouting and crying. He didn’t know any of them and didn’t care to get to know them. It felt like his first day in junior high school when all that he knew seemed so far away. He looked around for Carter, the one person whose name he knew, but didn’t see his face anywhere.
He kept waiting for someone to tell him what to do. He didn’t much care for feeling lost and a little direction would have been very welcome. He started to walk back toward the main school entrance when the screams behind him grew much louder.
He thought he heard a woman shouting some kind of a warning but then her shrill cries were suddenly quiet. When the first ghoul emerged from inside the bus, it was as if everything stopped. Time itself paused to see what would happen next.
Luckily, not everyone was frozen in panic. One man stepped up to deal with the danger, swinging his rifle like a club, striking the beast just above its eyebrows. The creature fell backward against the bus as the man continued his attack. With his rifle butt, he crushed bone and brain matter until it was smeared hideously on the vehicle’s yellow side.
Unfortunately, the man was so engrossed in destroying his foe that he didn’t see the next one lumbering down the narrow steps. It turned abruptly and grabbed the man’s shoulders, forcing him to the ground. The two struggled as Alec watched, not able to muster the courage to step forward and help the endangered man.
Another man joined the close quarters melee just as two more zombies climbed out of the bus. And then a steady stream of the fiends began to appear. Alec heard someone scream, “They’ve broken through! They’re through!”
The chaotic battle that ensued was only manageable because the appearance of the creatures was limited to a trickle at first. As one was dispatched, another was there to take its place. The first several were teetering wretches without much dexterity or flexibility, but then some of the recently deceased militiamen and women began to join the fray.
They moved much more lithely, like fearsome predators on the prowl. Unable to discern friend from foe, many of the militia began to shoot indiscriminately at the dark shadows that ran about. Many living militiamen fell prey to the bullets of militia guns.
Alec was still backing away from the growing fight, when a stray bullet careened from the pavement and struck him in the right knee. His knee cap shattered and the attending ligaments and tendons shredded, Alec was swept from his feet. Unable to get up from the ground, he tried to crawl to safety.
His efforts were doomed from the start. In mere moments, three ghouls saw the crawling figure as hapless and helpless as a wounded bird. Excited by the prospect of young flesh, the trio stumbled toward Alec and fell upon him.
One set of jagged teeth sank themselves into the nape of Alec’s neck, biting through both hair and skin. Alec swung his hand around trying to fend off his attacker, but this only invited another of the beasts to grab hold of Alec’s exposed arm. The zombie pulled back on the limb, dislocating Alec’s upper arm from his shoulder joint. It forced Alec’s fingers into its mouth and chomped down on the digits with its gnashing jaws.
The third demon sat upon Alec’s back and, pulling the boy’s jacket up to expose his skin, began to gnaw on the tender flesh just above the boy’s waist. His breath stolen away by both the weight on his back and the currents of pain filling his brain, Alec was unable to either fight off his attackers or call for help.
For several more seconds, Alec flailed uselessly with his one good arm until his life faded and he fell limp. The fiends chomped and chewed his young flesh between their blood dripping lips. Turning his lifeless body onto its back, they began to harvest his delectable organs, devouring the delicious internal tissues and sweet juices in greedy, succulent mouthfuls.
More and more of the militia fell under similar circumstances. Carter, still holding ground near one of the buses, directed the defense of what little territory he could. Finally, sensing he needed to face reality, he ordered a full retreat back to the school. The few disciplined soldiers he had at his side fought a moving retreat as they collapsed toward the school’s entrance.
Despite the frantic disposition of the majority of the little bastion, Carter’s withdrawal to the school was fairly orderly and successful. A dozen or so of the militia had rep
ositioned themselves in second-story windows overlooking the bastion’s courtyard. These troops began to lay down very effective covering fire, allowing many more of the defenders to extricate themselves from their positions.
The trickle of undead coming through the breached bus were handled one at a time as they appeared. Of course, the unattended corpses of many of the recently deceased militia began to reanimate, adding more confusion to the mix.
So far, however, none had been able to gain access to the school. The second line of defense was holding for the moment.
62.
Neil didn’t know what to do. Jules was right. Alec was still out there, as far as all of them were concerned. He needed their help as much as anyone. The seconds ticked away without any action taken. Neil knew they needed to be leaving but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Fortunately for Neil, or possibly unfortunately, he wasn’t forced to make a decision. In the seconds that followed their reunion, two fateful events propelled circumstances beyond Neil’s control.
Colonel Bear, having recovered from the Claymore’s detonation, wandered down the hall. Strapped to his hip, like General George Patton, were a pair of pearl handled Colt revolvers. Moving his large body with the agility of a Sherman tank, the Colonel plodded toward the sound of the shooting in the cafeteria. The gunfire, unexpected and close, startled him to purpose.
Sitting on the floor and propped against the wall, his young secretary, cut terribly by Sullivan’s knife, was whimpering pitifully. The Colonel stood over her, looking down at her with as much empathy as he could muster. He tried to soothe her with a few comforting words which held all the emotion of Stephen Hawking’s voice modulator. It was of no consequence, she wasn’t listening to him anyway. The reality of her situation had finally become starkly clear when she saw her blood course out of her body in heavy spurts and fall to the floor. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at the disgusting, smelly man with whom she had compromised herself and her self-respect so completely in the name of security. She wished him dead.
Alaskan Undead Apocalypse (Book 3): Mitigation Book 3) Page 31
