by Andrew Lauck
The sunrise also revealed the zombies that flooded the streets for as far as the eye could see and resembling an ant colony. They must have gathered in the darkness of twilight, drawn by the echoes of gunfire. I looked to Murray whose gaze matched my concern.
“Captain, there’s no way your officers can get back here with that between us. Any ideas?”
“Maybe we could clear a path, shoot all the zombies in a straight line, and have them make a run for it?” Anthony offered behind me. I looked back out the window. The zombies were packed together too tightly, outnumbering our ammunition.
“We wouldn’t even put a dent with the ammo we’ve got, Tony. We both know that.” I turned to face him. “But we could lead them away; create a diversion.” Unfortunately, there wasn’t much we had in the way of viable distractions. Anthony knew it, too, and he glanced up from his thoughts to nod at me. The silent acknowledgement let me know he shared the plan I was beginning to form.
“Tony, if we all get out of Chicago, we’ll need supplies. Ammunition, weaponry, food, water—the whole deal. The major supply stores would have been hit already, so you’ll have to go somewhere else.”
“What are you talking about?” Murray asked incredulously. “First we have to get everyone out of here in one piece, and then we can think about supplies.”
“Do you understand what I’m asking you to do, Tony?” I asked, pleading. It was too much to ask of anyone, let alone your best friend.
“Relax, Eric. I’ve got the easy part. You’re the one who has to get everyone out of here alive.”
“I’m coming with you, man. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you do this alone.”
“Think about it for a second, Eric. If you get Murray and his men to the garage, you’ll need to have a plan of extraction. Who better to lead people out of Hell than a former Special Forces soldier?” That was Anthony’s way of telling me to get them out first, and then worry about him later. As much as I hated the idea, the bastard was right.
“Fine, but I’ll expect you to meet us on the road out of town in half an hour. Any later, and I’ll think you stopped for a drink without me.”
“Don’t worry, bro. I’ve got this.” He patted me on the shoulder and slung his rifle, heading for the stairwell down to the garage. Murray watched silently, still not fully understanding what had transpired. I brought the radio up.
“Listen up, everyone. Any minute now a distraction is coming that will hopefully lead the zombies away. Prepare to move for the precinct as soon as you see an opening. We won’t get another shot.”
Ten minutes passed before Anthony’s black Ford crashed through the gate below and screeched to the right before picking up speed and tearing down the street at eighty miles an hour.
“At least I’ll get some good gas mileage out of this shit,” Anthony said through the radio. Seconds later, he was blasting classic rock over the system. The zombies began to migrate after him, the massive sound and promise of food creating an undeniable bait.
“They’re coming your way, man. I don’t know how good the range is on these walkies, so I’ll catch you on the flipside. Just make sure you get there.” There was no reply, but I could see the horde beginning to dissipate, so I turned my attention back to the situation at hand. Once the street seemed to clear from my vantage point, I spoke over the radio again.
“I know it’s dangerous, but you need to move now! The doors will be open.” I released the radio and clipped it to my pocket, running down the stairwell, and unblocking the doors. As soon as I threw the last box to the side and unlocked the entrance, five of Murray’s officers reached the opening. Within a very stressful thirty seconds, all of the remaining cops were inside the station. I locked the doors again out of habit, and together we headed to the garage below.
Two squad cars, a riot van, and an SUV were parked in the underground garage. One of the officer’s must have chosen their SUV over the standard issue car, but I was thankful for the extra storage capacity in case we encountered extra survivors along the way. I got in one of the squad cars to lead the convoy, Murray and one of the officers took a tactical van, and the rest of the officers claimed the other vehicles. I started the car and pulled out, heading south on the straightest shot to the highway.
I maintained a visual of the convoy behind me in the rearview mirror as I drove, keeping my speedometer at a constant forty miles per hour. While I could have pushed it faster, I didn’t want to risk being unable to stop or turn in time to avoid crashing. We made good time and it wasn’t long before we reached the first on-ramp, speeding onto the highway. A large cluster of cars blocked our way, so I radioed everyone to stop. We used my squad car and the SUV to clear an angular path, making slow but steady progress as we carved a way through the traffic jam. The front of my car got messed up beyond repair by the time I was done, but we eventually got through and stopped at the beginning of a very long open road.
Getting out of the car, I stared back at the city of Chicago hoping to see Anthony’s Ford drive up any second. Murray waited with me, lines of worry creasing his dark features.
“Do you think he’s still alive in there?” Murray muttered, not wanting to voice what both of us were thinking.
“I don’t know, Captain.” I paused for a long moment. “But I have to find out one way or the other. I owe Tony that much.”
“Eric, as much as I respect you and your friend and owe both of you our lives, I have my officers to think of. I can’t put them back through that again.”
“I know, Murray. That’s why I wasn’t asking for help. I’ll take the car in alone. If I’m not back in an hour, don’t bother looking for me. You have a duty to protect your officers, I understand that. Keep them safe, and if I take too long I’ll try to find your group later.” I opened the car door and was about to get in, but I felt a hand on my shoulder. Murray gave me an intense stare, and I shook his extended hand.
“Enough good people have died in this mess already, Eric. Don’t let them add your name to that list. We’ll need heroes like you to come back from this.” With that, Murray dropped my hand and walked back to his van. He leaned out and added, “I hope we meet again.” I nodded and got in the car to drive back toward Chicago. As I got closer, I tried the radio.
“Anthony, this is Eric. Come in Tony. Where the hell are you, man?” I asked. Every minute, I repeated the message and hoped to get lucky. The walkie-talkies weren’t outdated by any means, but they weren’t city-wide receivers either. After several minutes of driving, I was halfway back to the precinct when my radio squelched.
“If you’re looking for somewhere to shop, might I suggest the Blue Light Special?” Tony’s voice came through in static, but I knew instantly where he was.
Chapter 40
The streets of Chicago seemed to get worse as I sped through them, forcing me to drive on the sidewalks in some places to avoid hordes of zombies or weave between the mazes of abandoned cars. I tried to watch for any signs of life as I made my way downtown once more, but all I saw was desolation that dulled my hopes like an overused knife in a combat zone. Still, I kept my mind on the objective at hand and drove on.
It wasn’t hard to pinpoint Anthony’s location, with blaring music almost overpowering the staccato of gunfire inside the walls of the K-Mart as I pulled into the parking lot. All around I could see zombies making their way toward the sound, which sent a chill down my spine. Anthony knew about their attractions, so he wouldn’t accidentally be playing what seemed like half the speakers in the store unless he had a plan.
I pulled the car up to the entrance and parked sideways, effectively blocking the doors as much as I could, and popped the trunk open. I made sure my Sig was at my hip and got out, moving quickly to avoid any unwanted friends. One perk of having a police car was the riot gear in the back, including the pump-action shotgun that found itself in my hands along with a handful of extra shells that I shoved in my pocket. Closing the trunk, I glanced over the hood of the car and th
ought I saw movement across the lot, but there was no time to investigate as two shots from an M9 went off inside.
A stone ashcan showed evidence of how Anthony got in, so I followed his steps through the store. The number of bodies was impressive, but as I traced his movements I began to pick up on a blood trail that didn’t belong to any of the zombies. Stepping around a corner with the shotgun raised, I came face to face with the barrel of an M9, Anthony’s finger twitching on the trigger before he registered my face.
“Holy shit, man, you came this close to missing your head. You don’t even know,” he said with an exasperated sigh. I could tell he was scared from the dilation of his pupils, but I didn’t say anything to draw attention. Anthony was tough, and I knew he wouldn’t freeze under pressure from experience.
“Just keep it together, Tony, and let’s get the hell out of here.” I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm and stopped me.
“I’m not going back out there, Eric. There’s no point. At least here I can hold a last stand and take some of them with me.” He gestured around him, and I just then acknowledged the gas cans, bags of fertilizer, and all sorts of other explosives he had arranged through the store. It was one massive powder keg just waiting to ignite, and Anthony was bringing the torch.
“Tony, I know that sounds like a great idea. Believe me, there’s nothing I’d rather do than go out with a bang, but if I were going to do that, don’t you think I would have stayed with Samantha? Part of me is still trying to understand why I got up, but the point is that I did. Today I’ve lost my wife and son, man. I can’t lose my best friend, too. Like it or not, you’re all I’ve got left so I need you to get your shit together and come with me.” I could feel tears in my eyes, but I blinked them away and waited for his answer. I could tell he had accepted the death, but he also knew I needed him, so he nodded and swapped magazines of his M9.
“Alright, Eric, but this is my last clip. We’ll need to hit a gun store or something after this.” When he held up his handgun, his forearm was wrapped with a strip of cloth that had bled through. “Relax, bro. I cut my arm on a shelf when I was moving things around. It’s gonna take more than a few brain-munchers to take my ass down.” He grinned. “And don’t think for a second that guilt trip BS worked.”
“It’s good to have you back. Meet me at the entrance in five.” I went through the store, filling a back pack from the school section full of anything I thought would come in handy for survival. I made a stop at the hunting area for ammo boxes and a simple hunting rifle. It would be nice to take out zombies from a distance for a change. I soon made my way toward the doors, but a display of leather-back journals caught my eye. Grabbing one that looked nice and a pack of pens, I stuffed the contents in the back pack as I reached the doors.
“Did you get me a card while you’re at it?” Amusement was thick in his tone, but I replied with a one-finger salute and zipped up the pack. “Can we go now, princess?” He chuckled and walked through the doors, turning to say something as I slid the back pack over my shoulders. I saw the glint of sunlight off a scope just as the gunshot sounded, a bullet cutting off whatever Anthony was going to say next as it ripped through the base of his throat and splattered my face with his blood.
“No!” I screamed, skidding forward and dropping to the ground next to Anthony. He hit the ground and clutched his throat with his hands. I placed my hands over his, trying to keep pressure on the wound even though deep down I knew it was futile. “Tony, stay with me brother. You’re gonna get through this. You have to,” I pleaded, hoping my words could somehow change the inevitable. Blood spurted from the gaping hole, and he choked as he turned his head in disagreement and his lips parted.
“Have to…survive…” He managed to get out as his face paled from blood loss. My chest heaved like I was crying, but no tears came, so I just held my hands in place and moved my ear closer. “I’m…sorry…” He exhaled, and I didn’t need to look up to see that I was alone in that moment. Anthony was dead.
A yell across the lot broke my reverie, and I looked up to see a truck parked across the street with three men, one of them standing in the bed and leaning over the hood against the stock of a rifle still aimed where Anthony had been standing. The other men fired at stray zombies nearby, the sounds of their shots echoing off the surrounding buildings.
“Did you see that, Cy? I took that one out with one shot! Oh, man, I’m getting good with this thing!” Something inside me snapped, and I unslung the .22 rifle from my shoulder, loading a clip and pushing it into the receiver. Then I attached the scope I had picked up, and I waited until I felt it snap into place. Slowly, I edged my body over the trunk of the car and adjusted the sights, centering the crosshairs just over the rifleman. He was smiling when I pulled the trigger and sent a bullet straight through his temple to lodge in his brain. His body slumped against the hood, and I loaded in the next round.
“What the hell? Who else is over there?” The one referred to as Cy shouted over the distance, taking cover behind the truck.
“Why did you do it?” I yelled, anger filling every part of me.
“He was infected! We saw his arm. It’s better this way!”
“He wasn’t bitten!” I cried out, looking over at Anthony’s body and heaving out a laugh. After everything we had been through together, he was dead because of a fucking shelf.
“Look, we know you’ve got guns and ammunition over there, so just set them down and walk away. There’s no need for more bloodshed here, friend.” I glanced back over and saw a second truck of men pull up. Apparently, Cy had been stalling for backup to arrive. I eased back down and pushed my head back against the car, thinking. I looked inside the store and back to Anthony.
“Well, buddy, it looks like you’ll get that bang after all.” I opened the car and grabbed my emergency bag from the back seat, slinging it over my shoulder with the back pack and rifle. Staying in a crouch, I slid Anthony’s body inside the store to the back, taking the M9 from his holster and sliding it into the back of my waist. “I’m so sorry, brother. “I whispered. “I promise I’ll make it count for something.”
I ejected the shells from the shotgun and pulled the extras from my pocket, counting them and then unscrewing the caps. Using my Kabar, I punched a hole in one of the gasoline cans and made a small trail of gas to the back door. I then used the gunpowder in the shells to trail behind a cement barrier encasing the dumpster out back of the store. Sensing Cy and his people were getting impatient, I hurried back to the front.
“I can’t give up my guns, asshole. You and I both know what would happen to me if I did that,” I called out, running over to slide several rock CD’s into the plethora of speakers and sound systems and scrolling them all to full blast as they pumped a flood of sound to the outside. “Let’s get this party started you son of a bitch,” I muttered, running back to the front and watching the zombies starting to gather. Cy and his men opened fire on the zombies, some keeping their shots focused while others sprayed bullets in all directions.
“Just what in the hell are you planning in there?” he yelled, rubbing his ears in irritation. When I didn’t answer, he turned to his men, and waved them forward. Part of me was hoping he’d just give up and leave, because while I wanted to avenge the death of my comrade, Cy and his people were still human beings just trying to survive. Just as I expected, the zombies tried to overwhelm Cy and force him to back down, and he waved his men forward.
I sprinted to the back of the store, pushing through the back door and heading to the dumpster. The explosion would be massive, and I wasn’t sure if the concrete would be enough to contain it, but I didn’t have time to change plans as I saw the last of the main group of zombies pouring in behind Cy’s men. Cy didn’t seem to realize he’d been bottled in until I heard gunfire erupt and cries of dismay. I pulled out a lighter, lit the flame, and said the infamous line from Die Hard as I dropped it onto the trail of gunpowder and took cover behind the concrete. Moments later, a deafen
ing explosion cut off all sound and quite literally rocked my world. The concrete I was hiding behind shifted back and a block hit my shoulder, but I remained hunkered down as everything the explosion had sent up began to come down around me. Metal shrapnel and various combinations of objects hit the ground, and I waited for the last of them to trickle down before I pushed the concrete block away and sat up.
I surveyed the destruction and waited to see if anyone else survived, but unsurprisingly nothing moved amidst the rubble. I checked to make sure my weapons were intact and stood, looking to Anthony’s final resting place. Silently, I sent a prayer for my fallen brother and added aloud, “We were so close, Tony. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”
Part of me died there with Anthony, leaving anger and guilt in its wake, but I turned and took a step toward whatever awaited me. I had no idea where I’d go or what to do now, but one thing was clear: I had to get the hell out of Chicago.
Chapter 41
The car was completely destroyed by the explosion, leaving a scorched hull at the front of the rubble. Knowing that I would have to ration my supplies from then on since all I had were the contents of my backpack and emergency bag, I set out on foot toward cover. Being out in the open wouldn’t be safe, and I guessed I only had minutes before the sounds of the explosion drew a swarm of zombies.
I made my way to an alley between two storefronts and had to squeeze through, but when I came out on the other side I sprinted into another alley across the street. The sounds of the undead were already mounting, and I risked a glance behind me, causing me to run directly into a zombie. There were no moans, no hideous groaning, to alert me, so I smacked into it in the cramped quarters of the alleyway. I fell on top of it, my forearm coming up instinctively to its throat. With it pinned against the ground, snapping at me and spewing saliva, I reached back and brought out my Kabar to shove up through the soft base of its chin and up into the brain stem.
