“Right, then we need a way out,” said Dave.
“We have to get out of here in the shortest route and time possible, with little fighting,” said Roger.
“Then we’ll take the stairs right to the hallway and straight to the vehicles,” said Dave.
“Hopefully with all the confusion of those infected that are still fighting we stand a chance of getting out,” said Roger.
“Tommy, Graham, Dave, grab any gear you have and meet me back here,” said Roger.
“What about the others?” asked Dave.
“What others?” Roger asked.
“The rest of the survivors here, they’re our friends and family,” said Dave.
“Not anymore, those lucky and capable enough will make their way out like us. Those that don’t are nothing more than zombies, condemned to the same fate as all the other poor bastards before them,” said Roger.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” shouted Dave.
“This is bullshit,” said Tommy.
Roger grabbed Tommy by his shirt and pulled him in close.
“Look you moron, you’ve brought this shit upon us by breaking the simple rules we lived by, so I don’t want to hear anymore of your crap!” shouted Roger.
“Okay, guys. Chill out, this isn’t the time,” said Dave.
Roger let go of Tommy and shoved him away.
“Indeed, we have to take stock of what we have. We are at least all still alive and uninfected, let’s keep it that way. Now grab your kit and get ready to move,” said Roger.
Graham, Dave and Tommy each strapped on all of their personal armour and weapons as quickly as they could. Dave was pulling his leg armour on when a second shotgun shot rang out from the corridor. He stumbled out of the bedroom with the rest of his kit in hand. Roger has taken the life of another creature. Dave continued to pull on his equipment in the hallway as Roger reloaded his shotgun.
“How many rounds you got for that?” asked Dave.
“These are the last two unfortunately,” said Roger.
“That sucks,” said Dave.
“Indeed,” said Roger.
“Have you got any other weapons?” asked Dave.
Roger turned to reveal a military sabre hanging from his belt.
“I’ve got this,” said Roger.
Dave knew well that it wasn’t a weapon well suited to their task, but it’s what he had, and at least he felt safe with it. Experience had taught all of them that most swords were not particularly well suited to zombie slaying. The blades required great skill to use effectively, were prone to damage, and often difficult to use in many of the spaces they fought in.
“What can I do?” asked Sandra.
“Can you fight?” asked Roger.
“I made it this far didn’t I?” said Sandra.
“Dave, grab her a weapon,” said Roger.
Dave went into his bedroom and came back out with a hammer, the typical household type. He kept it as a spare weapon beside his bed and as a general tool. He passed it to her, it would be far better suited to her than the bulky and heavy club hammers he liked to use.
“Everyone ready?” asked Roger.
The group nodded.
“Now remember, there are likely ten or more zombies in the building, potentially more since the gates were smashed, these are not our friends anymore, even though they may look like them. Dave, you lead the way, get us to the trucks as quickly as you can,” said Roger.
“Alright people, let’s move!” shouted Dave.
They headed off along the corridor, none of them wanting to journey down the stairs. This kind of pressure and stress was something none of them had experienced or endured since the first months of the Zompoc. The supply runs were so carefully considered and planned that none of the men having to do them ever had to face such a dangerous situation. Now, after all their months of work and effort the entire complex had been compromised by one stupid decision, one man who could not follow the simple and careful rules that Roger had laid out.
They reached the top of the stairs. The screams were lesser now, with perhaps only one person still making noise in the building. That suggested that the entire two floors below them were now hostile. All that Roger and Dave could now think was how much more care they would put into internal security could they go back and do it differently. They were already planning in their heads how they would set up the next complex. The possibility of not making it out of the building never crossed their minds. After a year of survival, the possibility of failure and death was never something that they gave a moment’s thought.
This group of five survivors now had the raw determination and drive that any who survived had experienced in the opening days of the Zompoc, the raw survival instinct. It was this single track mindedness and ability to act that had allowed all of these people to remain alive. They were hardened veterans of the Zombie Apocalypse, and nothing would stop them.
Dave led the way down the first flight of stairs at a steady pace, they all knew the importance of getting out as quickly as possible. They made it down the first flight of stairs to the hallway of the first floor of the house. A zombie was already tumbling towards them, but not blocking their path to the next floor.
“Tommy, lead them on, I’ll deal with this,” said Dave.
The survivors moved past Dave. He knew that any creatures this close to them must be dealt with, as any holdup on the ground floor could lead them to fighting on all sides. He moved towards the creature, doing his best to ignore the fact that he had spoken to the man just the day before. He lifted the hammer up to his side before smashing it into the creature. The thick flat head of the tool crushed into the beast’s jaw, breaking it from the skull and sending the body tumbling against the radiator on the wall. Not risking a comeback from the creature, he swung again, hitting the back of the head. The zombie’s head was resting on the radiator, the hammer crushing the skull nearly flat to the metalwork. Blood sprayed up the wall as the body slumped down the wall to the floor.
Dave followed on down the stairs after his fellow survivors. He reached them at the bottom where they stood, mortified. Through the corridor to the kitchen they could see four of their former friends, all with blood dripping from various wounds and the crazy expression in their eyes that they had come to loathe and fear. The path to the front door, which was wide open, was block by another two creatures. Roger held up his shotgun, he fired his first round, scattering blood and brain matter across the hall. He quickly aimed at the next one and pulled the second trigger on his weapon. The scattershot was off centre and tore flesh from the side of the beast’s face, leaving blood trailing down its clothing, but it wasn’t dead.
Roger drew his sword from his side and walked quickly towards the creature, he swung at the beast as if the sword was a hammer. The clumsy strike missed the head and imbedded in the collar bone. The zombie’s jaw opened and hissed at Roger, the wounds not having any major effect on it.
“Out of the way!” shouted Dave.
He ran forwards and without stopping smashed his hammer into the creature’s forehead, cracking the skull open. The force of the blow sent it face down to the floor. He looked around. The zombies in the kitchen were already staggering towards them.
“Let’s move, people!” shouted Dave.
The group began moving towards the door with Dave at the lead, but they were stopped by a creature that walked into the doorway before them. Dave stopped immediately as he recognised the hair and body outline he was so familiar with, Kailey. He stood, speechless, having to kill his friends was not new to him, but this was different. For every month he’d lived in Everglade the knowledge that every time he went out into the infected lands he could return to see her face had kept him going. This was the end of hope for Dave, what was there to live for?
“What are you waiting for?” shouted Roger.
Dave stayed silent, his mouth was dry and his hope was lost.
“Fucking do it and we can get out of here!” sh
outed Tommy.
“I, I can’t,” said Dave.
The body of what used to be the woman he loved so much began shambling towards him, now just a few feet away. His hammer was still at his side, arms and shoulders hunched. Dave had lost all sense of priority, shocked by this one last loss that pushed him over the edge.
“Get out the fucking way!” shouted Tommy.
He pushed Dave aside and ran at Kailey, immediately bring his hammer down onto her cranium. The skull split and blood seeped out, mingling with her blond hair and pouring onto her blouse. Dave watched in horror as her body swayed until it finally toppled to the floor. Tommy turned around to look at Dave. He slapped Dave across the face.
“Wake the fuck up, man!” shouted Tommy.
Dave looked up at Tommy, but didn’t respond, a look of despair in his eyes. Roger and Graham looked behind them, the creatures in the building were getting ever closer.
“Dave, wake the fuck up, we need you!” shouted Tommy.
Dave looked into Tommy’s eyes, but his face was long and pale.
“She’s gone, but we’re still alive, man the fuck up and be the leader we’ve grown to respect!” shouted Tommy.
Dave began to come around, the survival instinct was beginning to kick in, aided by the adrenaline that was now pumping through his body, his body fuelled by the impending danger. His eyes suddenly tightened and his body straightened. He had been through this before, loss on a regular and massive scale was an ordinary part of life now. He was alive, and so were at least some of his friends.
“Okay, I’m ready,” said Dave.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here!” shouted Tommy.
They walked quickly out of the front door. Before them was just one zombie, blocking their route to the nearest parked vehicles.
“This fucker is mine!” said Dave.
It no longer mattered that the creature had been another one of his friends, now he was utterly filled for the hatred of the zombies, choosing to ignore the faces that they wore. He ran towards the creature and thrust the head of the club hammer into its face, knocking it off its feet. Dave took the short handle in two hands and continually smashed the skull until it was nearly flat to the ground, a bloody pulp.
They looked out at the smashed gates at the entrance to their previously secure compound. One zombie was already through the gates, another only a few feet away. The zombies were sparse out in the countryside, but there were still enough to quickly overpower the survivors now that they had zombies among them in Everglade.
“Take both the Land Rovers, we cannot risk it with one!” shouted Roger.
Dave stood back upright, his hammer dripping blood at his side. He said nothing, but the entire group knew what they had to do. The vehicles each carried enough food, water and weapons to keep four people alive for a week, a precaution Roger had always insisted on, both for teams in the field, and such emergency situations as they were now in.
Dave and Roger jumped into the front of the first vehicle, whilst Tommy, Graham and Sandra took the second. The engines roared to life almost simultaneously. Dave was in the driver’s seat of the Land Rover he’d spent so many months getting used to. A loud noise rang out as a zombie crashed against his door, making him jump. The vehicle was stationary whilst the engine was running, but Dave was glad of the mesh fitted over the windows.
“Time to go, Dave. This is not home for us anymore,” said Roger.
“And what, we just keep driving, now just five people with nothing left in the world?” asked Dave.
“No, we do not have nothing. We have five lives, and that’s worth more than solid gold bars ever were. We are the few, the lucky and capable few. We will move on, create a new home and make it better and safer than before. There are other survivors out there, we will keep living,” said Roger.
Dave simply sat at the wheel, contemplating his leader’s words. He knew everything that Roger said made sense, but the emotional battering that he’d received was overwhelming.
“What do you think Kailey would have wanted? For you to be morbid and lacking your characteristic cautious skills that have kept you alive, or for you to meet the same fate she did?” asked Roger.
Dave thought back to the day it had all begun. It made no sense that Kailey’s death had struck him so hard, when he was quite capable of ending his best friends’ lives and moving on. It had clearly amassed, finally tripping his calm persona into a depressive state. He looked over at Roger, the zombie beside him beating pointlessly at the door.
“I get it, so where to?” asked Dave.
“I’m not too sure, I suggest we get a good distance from this place, forget the horrors of this night and set up somewhere completely new with access to a whole new set of resources. Drive on, we’ll hopefully find somewhere decent to stop, sleep in the trucks, and begin our new lives tomorrow,” said Roger.
“You know what I wouldn’t give for a kebab,” said Dave.
“Where did that come from?” asked Roger.
“Just a small taste of the life I used to lead, something to look forward to, the luxuries we used to take for granted,” said Dave.
“I know exactly what you mean, let’s find ourselves a home, better than this one, and we’ll sit down with some good ale and forget it all,” said Roger.
“Sounds like a plan,” said Dave.
He put his foot to the floor, spinning the wheels on the grass. The vehicle stormed towards the entrance, crushing the zombie before them. They were finally free, leaving the disaster of their greatest hope behind them, with a quarter of the people and few of the supplies.
It was a bleak day, but they at least they were alive.
CHAPTER TWELVE
RESEARCH CENTRE, HONOLULU, HAWAII
Decker and his team walked past the security desk and into the foyer of the centre. Since the outbreak the centre had been collecting as much data as it could from around the world on the creatures, their biology and anything that might help in the struggle. Walking at the front of the group, Decker approached the man sitting at the reception desk. Behind him Terry and Tony dragged the wounded prisoner with them, pushing him up against the desk.
The receptionist was startled and when he saw the bloody wounds on the man he literally stumbled backwards, very nearly falling from his chair.
“Where’s Murphy? We need a word,” said Decker is a serious tone.
The receptionist, now starting to regain his composure picked up his phone, he whispered quietly into the telephone so the group of men couldn’t hear him. After a short pause he replaced the handset and then looked up to Decker.
“Please sit down, Sir. Dr Murphy is sending somebody up now.”
“Bullshit, we need to see him now!” shouted Decker, starting to lose his temper.
A door opened at the end of the room and two men in medical scrubs hurried towards them with a wheeled stretcher. A third man, presumably from security, followed them. He was wearing a full bio protection suit, along with additional armour and the ubiquitous Heckler & Koch MP7 on his thigh.
“What’s going on?” asked Decker, as they started lifting the wounded man onto the trolley.
The security man stepped closer, putting his hand on Decker’s arm. It was a mistake as Decker was not a man to be pushed around. He easily brushed the man’s hand aside and twisted it around and then grabbed his elbow, locking it behind him.
“Don’t fucking touch me, pal!” said an angry Decker.
Tony stepped up, flanking Decker.
“Big mistake, man. Now you’re pissing him off!” he laughed.
Before the situation could escalate further an older man in a smart suit entered.
“Okay, Decker, let him go,” he said in a resigned tone.
“Next time keep your dogs on a leash,” said Decker as he released the man.
“Look, things have become a little more complicated than we expected. Walk with me.”
Decker turned to his unit, the other five men looked
tired and certainly not in the mood for a long talk on biology, infection and the usual stuff they got stuck with.
“Hey, don’t worry about us, we’ll see you later at the bar,” said Tony with a grin.
Decker smiled, “Good work, guys, I’ll see you later.”
He turned back to Dr Murphy who gestured towards the door.
“Come with me, Decker. I want to show you something,” he said mysteriously.
Decker went with him, they left the foyer and entered a long corridor that led to an elevator entrance. It was flanked by two men in bio-suits and body armour.
“Aren’t we a little underdressed?” asked Decker.
Dr Murphy pressed a button that flashed green several times. The door hissed open and he stepped inside the glass elevator, Decker close behind. Once the doors shut he turned back to Decker.
“Good work on the capture. Those two were potentially a serious problem. Were any of your people hurt?”
“No, we went through the normal procedures when we came back. No bites, blood or wounds. I don’t get it though, these guys weren’t zombies.”
“Well Mr Decker, you are partially correct in that respect.”
The doors slid open revealing a fully equipped laboratory with at least a dozen people working at terminals. In the centre of the room was a massive screen with a three-dimensional model of a human brain rotating on it. The Doctor stopped in front of the screen and looked at it for a moment before turning back to Decker.
“As you know we’ve been making some progress on the virus. No, we don’t have a cure but, and this is a bit but. We’ve managed to find a way to stabilise the virus for a time.”
“How is that of any use?” asked Decker.
“A good question. First of all, tell me about your prisoner. Anything special about him?” asked the Doctor.
Decker looked a little surprised at the question before realising that of course the Doctor knew too well what was different about the man.
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