by Mike Staton
“Alright. I might tack on another favor you owe me though,” Sarah said and accompanied it with a small smirk. “Roof?”
He nodded. “See you there.”
*
Percival lifted the shelf off of small pile of rubble. He was in the hardware section of the department store and had propped his flashlight so it shone on the toppled shelf. He struggled for a moment before getting the momentum to send it careening to the side. He wiped sweat from his brow and looked down at his prize. A sledgehammer rested among the rest of the shelf’s contents.
Percival grinned to himself. Weapons were always useful. Some were more useful than others, and weapons that were also tools were certainly among the most useful. He reached down and hefted the sledgehammer. He ran his fingers over the handle. He guessed it was some steel alloy and felt to be somewhere close to eight pounds.
He almost dropped the newly acquired weapon at the blasting sound of an air horn. Each member of his team carried an air horn and they were used only in emergencies. Extreme emergencies like a breach in their perimeter.
Percival cursed, snatched up his flashlight and sprinted down the row of shelves in the direction he thought he’d heard the air horn come from. He almost ran full speed into Roy Joy.
“What’s going on?” Percival asked.
Roy Joy shrugged. The man seemed abnormally calm given what the scream of the air horn meant. “Don’t know. I’m not omniscient, and Fredward didn’t give me any sort of warning. Maybe I should start taking my advice from—“
The rest of the statement was cut off by another blast from the air horn. This one was decidedly closer.
“Come on, they’ll need our help.” Percival took off in the direction of the air horn. He hoped everything was under control.
He rounded a corner to the sounds of gunshots. One shattered the plaster next to his head and showering him with particles. “Fuck! Hold your fire!”
Andrina swung the pistol away from him and fired at a corpse as it rushed through the open doorway. Red bloomed from the undead man’s chest in two spots. A third shot punched through his left eye and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. There were four other corpses, each with similar wounds around the open doorway.
“Sorry, Mister Polz,” Andrina said. She sounded exhausted.
“You missed, that’s the important part. Time to leave.” Percival placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle tug.
Another zombie rushed into the doorway. It paused for a moment, stared at them for another moment. For a second, Percival was certain that this man, despite blood splattered clothes and a small chunk of flesh missing from his neck, was alive. He must not have been turned for very long. His eyes hadn’t become so scratched that they looked cloudy and his pallor hadn’t entirely faded to the deathly gray-white of a zombie.
Andrina raised the pistol again and squeezed the trigger. Red blossomed on the man’s chest and he stepped back to keep his balance. The slide of the pistol remained propped open.
“Shit!” Percival uttered.
The walking corpse in the doorway threw back his head and uttered a moan. Loud and unearthly, the moan was louder than the usual zombie groan. Percival knew exactly what it was. The moan called other zombies to the victims the first had found. It would be a matter of moments before the corpses milling around the building flooded to the open door.
“Fuck!” Percival shouted in anger. He hefted the sledgehammer and dashed forward. The corpse met him halfway. Percival swung the sledgehammer around and connected the head of the heavy hammer with the head of the zombie. He closed his eyes and mouth tight as the hammer crunched through skull and drove the monster down. He felt a slight splatter of matter against his jacket and small droplets of blood struck his face.
He opened his eyes and moved away from the doorway. He frantically wiped away the blood that had splattered his face, before any could drip into his eyes or mouth. He knew that killing a zombie that caused a splatter of blood into a survivor’s eyes or mouth, or, on rarer occasions, nose was a death sentence. He shuddered at the thought.
He backed away from the doorway. The moans of the other zombies already echoed through the doorway and into the department store. Each moan was the loud, unearthly feeding moan that drew in other zombies.
He looked to Andrina, who was still fumbling to reload her pistol.
“That was dangerous, Percival,” Roy Joy said. The man had taken out his pistol and shook his head disapprovingly at Percival. “We should leave. Thomas there was calling the banquet. And I don’t think they’re exactly willing to compromise still.”
Percival stared at Roy Joy for a long moment. The sound of Andrina finally getting the magazine into her pistol and releasing the slide snapped him back to reality.
“Right, we leave. Now.” Percival cradled the sledgehammer in the crook of his arm, carefully avoiding the bloody head, and dug his air horn out. He blasted it in the agreed signal that meant it was time to leave as he led the way to the stairs. Karl and Nadia met them at the stairs.
“What’s going on?” Nadia asked. Both she and Karl had their pistols in one hand and flashlights in the other.
“Breach. Bad one at the side door. We’re leaving,” Percival answered. “They’ll be swarming in here soon, if they aren’t already.”
He led the way up the stairs, blasting the air horn once more at the peak. The air horn was answered by another air horn ahead of them and hungry, fevered moans behind. Percival expected to hear the tramp of footsteps after them at any moment.
He led the group of survivors across the second floor of the department store. Sarah and Evan were waiting for them by the door that led to the stairs to the roof.
“Go! They’re already inside,” Percival ordered. He gestured with the sledgehammer.
“What happened? Are you alright? You’ve got blood on you,” Sarah asked, her tone marked with concern. In the darkness it was difficult to read her face.
“Don’t have time, bitch,” Nadia said angrily. She yanked open the door and pushed past Evan and Sarah.
“I’m fine. We’re leaving, get up the stairs. I’ll work on barring this door.” Percival gestured for the rest of them to move through the door.
“You’re so brave,” Sarah said and disappeared into the darkness of the stairs.
Karl and Roy Joy followed with out a word. Andrina merely patted him on the shoulder and followed them.
“I’ll watch over yer shoulder,” Evan said. “Least I can do.”
Percival wasn’t about to waste more time arguing with the youth. He moved through the door and closed it. He jammed a metal folding chair up under the doorknob. It wouldn’t hold for very long, but would buy them a few seconds; or minutes if they were lucky. He regretted breaking the latch earlier. It might have held the horde for critical moments longer.
“Time to go.” He scooped up his backpack, a large camping backpack, and motorcycle helmet. He took the stairs two at a time, despite the darkness that was barely alleviated by his flashlight. He pushed open the door to the roof and stepped out into the rain. His worry that it would lighten over the course of the night was unfounded.
If anything, the rain had gotten heavier. He stared through the gray sheets of water for a moment, looking for the rest of his group. He knew they were up here somewhere.
“Over there,” Evan said. He pointed across the roof to the dark outlines of five people. Lightning flashed through the sky and dramatically illuminated the group of survivors.
“Right. Let’s go.” Percival patted Evan in the small of his back and the boy took off. Percival followed after him, tugging his helmet on as he jogged across the rain slicked roof.
The other survivors had taken three planks of wood and carefully set them across the gap between the department store and the building adjacent to it. They seemed to be waiting for Percival to give the word to abandon the building.
“Right. Give me the heaviest of the bags. I’ll go first. Only r
ight your leader takes the first risk. Andrina, you’re second, then Roy Joy, Evan, Sarah, and Karl. Nadia, you get to draw up the rear. One person at a time on the planks.”
“What the hell? She usually pulls up the rear,” Nadia said as she pointed at Sarah.
“Your attitude needs adjusting. You go last.” Percival knew he usually had Sarah pull up the rear. He trusted her a little more than most of the others. It was also a dangerous and powerful position to be assigned, and he hoped that Nadia would see it as such. “No more complaints or questions, we’re wasting time.”
Percival took a backpack handed to him by Karl. He relinquished the sledgehammer and stepped up onto the ledge. He fixed his gaze on the hazy outline of the building across from him and began walking.
He put one foot in front of the other and held his breath through most of the journey. The boards were slick with the rain and seemed more supple as well, shifting with each step and threatening to send him tumbling to his doom.
He stepped down off the plank and onto the roof of the adjacent building. He shook from the exertion.
He dropped the backpack onto the roof and took his air horn out and blasted it twice to signal he was across and it was safe for the second to follow.
Terrible minutes passed as Andrina, Roy Joy, Evan, Sarah and Karl crossed the makeshift bridge.
Lightning crackled overhead and lit up the rooftops. It illuminated, in horrific black and white, Nadia and a horde behind her.
Percival pressed against the edge of the roof and tore off his helmet, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting. His words were lost to the rain and a roll of thunder from the clouds overhead.
Nadia climbed up onto the planks and started to cross.
A gunshot echoed from nearby and a member of the horde charging across the roof dropped. Evan worked the bolt on the hunting rifle and sighted through the scope and fired again.
The other survivors joined Percival at the edge of the roof, each shouting words of encouragement to Nadia.
Nadia was halfway across, moving far faster than any of the other survivors had. The makeshift bridge of planks was wet and slick and Nadia hadn’t quite crossed the halfway point when the first of the zombies got to the edge of the roof on the other side. It slammed into the boards on the other side.
Nadia’s scream split the air as cleanly as a hot knife through butter. She slipped and tumbled, striking the boards and laying there for half a second before rolling with the impact and toppling the three stories to the pavement below.
Percival heard the crunch of her impact and the painful crack of bones breaking. He sank to his knees. When he put her last to cross the bridge he’d signed her death warrant. He’d failed her. He’d broken his promise to her.
Nadia’s screams echoed up the wall. It wouldn’t be long before the undead found her.
The rain also brought danger and disaster.
Chapter 2
“Get the fuck up!” Sarah’s voice seemed to echo through the endless drone of rain.
Percival was vaguely aware of gunshots going off near him and the clatter of the wooden planks as they were shoved off to keep the zombies from following them. He was more acutely aware of Nadia’s screams as they echoed up to him. A hand at the cuff of his shirt jerked him backward and threw him to his backside.
His vision blurred and he squinted up into the falling rain. Between the haze the rain created and the darkness of night, he didn’t see the hand coming until after it had slapped hard across his face. It left a sharp, stinging, burn on his cheek. It also drew him back to his senses. The same hand that had slapped him thrust his helmet at him.
Nadia’s screams had stopped, but the pain that Percival had expected to hit him, didn’t. He snatched the helmet from the hand and picked himself up. The others were gathered around him.
Karl looked at him with a look that said he knew what Percival was going through. Evan seemed shaken, as did Andrina. Roy Joy was staring off through the pouring rain and listening to something only he seemed to hear. Sarah looked angry. It dawned on Percival that his right-hand lady had been the one to slap him to his senses.
He cleared his throat and tugged his helmet back onto his head. If he didn’t show strength now, they’d not continue to follow him. He could grieve quietly and privately later. Now was the time to make decisions and keep the rest of them alive. He hated leading. He hated holding people’s lives in his hands.
He slid the visor of the motorcycle helmet up and cleared his throat. Everyone except Roy Joy looked at him.
“We leave. Now. I’ll take the rear guard as we cross the roofs. Three buildings west-“ he pointed in the direction he hoped was west and hoped no one contradicted him, “-and then one north. If I remember correctly there’s a fire escape there that we can use to get safely back to the street level.”
He didn’t feel the need to express that the zombies likely wouldn’t readily chase them at the street level with the downpour and a fresh meal. It was mostly written across their faces already. He needed to give them a direction to run, something to distract them from the new loss. Percival let his gaze swing around the group assembled around him and settled it on Karl.
“I want you to take point. I trust you’ll guide us to the exit.” Percival hefted a backpack onto his shoulders and clipped it into place. He accepted the sledgehammer from Roy Joy as he passed him.
“Sure,” Karl said. He turned and moved away in the direction that Percival had pointed before.
Percival hefted the sledgehammer to his shoulder and slapped the visor of the motorcycle helmet back down into place. The act cut the sounds of the environment down to the drone of the rain on the hard plastic surrounding his head. It also cut his field of vision significantly, but it was a necessary constraint as a single drop of infected blood could spell doom for a person. Every person in his team, wore some sort of face covering, ranging from a set of swimming goggles and a respirator to a full on gas-mask.
*
Percival dropped off the last rung of the fire escape ladder and looked around. Three zombies lay crumpled around the ladder. Karl had crushed their skulls with his crowbar before they’d had time to utter a feeding moan. Small blessings came with the rain, though that was beginning to die out. It had lessened, and slackened to almost a drizzle in the past few minutes.
It was leaving Percival tired out. But he couldn’t rest yet, especially when they were far from a safe location. He looked both ways up and down the alleyway. It had an open mouth at both ends. He wasn’t entirely sure which direction would be best to go.
Roy Joy sighed, quite audibly despite the gasmask he wore, and pointed. “That way. Fredward said they’d be thinner to the East.”
Percival frowned, and was glad that the motorcycle helmet would hide his face. He was being indecisive and Roy Joy had just pulled him out of the fire, metaphorically speaking.
“Right. East it is. Move quickly, move quietly,” Percival said. “Karl, you stay on point, I’ll continue to bring up the rear.”
Karl’s shoulders slumped for a moment, but he nodded and turned away toward one mouth of the alleyway. The other survivors fell in behind him.
“At dawn we’ll hole up in the most secure looking building and check our map for where to go next.” Percival wished they had been able to spend more time in the department store. Most of his friends looked exhausted by the short jaunt across the rooftops to this point. Everyone except Roy Joy looked exhausted. The man never seemed to tire when on the move, despite what most people would expect of someone of his girth.
“Move.”
Karl led the group away from the fire escape and to the mouth of the alleyway. Percival followed behind Sarah, taking the opportunity to move close to her. He pushed the visor up so he could project a whisper to her a little easier.
“I’m sorry.”
She was silent and still for a long moment. Percival wondered if she’d heard him, and was glad that Karl was being overly caut
ious, giving him more time to try and talk with her.
“I shouldn’t have don-“ he started to say.
“Shut up. We’ll talk about it later,” she muttered as she glanced over her shoulder. Her N95 mask moved slightly as she spoke, and she sounded slightly angry. She looked away from him and shouldered her shotgun.
Percival felt slightly sick to his stomach and moved his visor back down. He’d not felt sick like this since the initial outbreak had ravished the college community of Prosperity Wells. He’d not felt sick since he’d put down his first zombie.
He sighed softly and shook his head.
Karl moved out into the street, clearing one side with his pistol. Evan and Roy Joy followed him, the youth remaining between the two men and pointing the hunting rifle in a third direction as Roy Joy covered the opposite stretch of street.
Sarah and Andrina walked after them into the street. Percival followed them, turning around to make sure no quiet zombie had decided to creep up after from the alleyway. He watched the alleyway. The dissipating rain was creating a fog that sank over the streets and made seeing very far difficult. Their flashlights caught the hanging droplets of moisture in the air.
The group of survivors clustered in the middle of the street. Being out in the darkness of night was one thing, but combining it with the uncertainty that fog brought was making them further nervous. It didn’t help Percival’s already weak stomach, or his ability to make quick decisions. He doubted himself and his ability to keep them safe.
Percival swept his hand across the front of his helmet and pointed up the street away from the department store they’d fled. “We’re going that way. It’s away from the horde we just escaped.”
He carefully kept his voice even and smooth as he spoke. It was the tone he’d used to direct people back on the Brown College campus. It was his leadership voice. It was the tone people seemed to respond best to.
