Whatever It Takes

by Mike Staton

  Percival didn’t want to take either of them. He wanted to ensure that they all were safe behind a wall and he did all the dangerous work. But, as much as he hated admitting it, she was right. Working in pairs was an unspoken rule, and she was better at conducting headcounts.

  He could remember his first class with her in a massive lecture hall with over 400 students in it. She’d not only told them how many people were seated in the room, but also how many were in each section and row, with little more than a glance. Some students hated her for her ability to take roll in a 400 student class, but Percival found it amazing and had utilized her skill in the field since.

  “Alright,” he said. “You accompany me, the rest of you stay back and watch the yard.”

  They nodded. Percival moved to the corner of the house, slowly pushed open a wrought iron gate fixed into a fancy wrought iron fence that stretched to the hedge. It creaked, and he hoped it didn’t carry as far as he was worried it might. He squeezed through after pushing it open just enough to do so. Andrina had less trouble slipping through the crack.

  He immediately attached himself to the wall and slunk along it to the street. He stopped at the corner of the building, glancing at Andrina. She’d pressed herself to the wall as well and waited for his signal.

  The immediate street before them was empty of zombies. That was a good sign, but Percival knew that didn’t mean a lot for what might lie in either direction. He slowly peeked around the corner, up the street and back toward Roy Joy’s house, then away and toward their vehicles. A substantial horde lay between them and the house, and, easily, a couple dozen zombies were between them and the route that would take them back to the relative safety of their cars.

  He ducked his head back and looked to Andrina.

  “How many, Mr. Polz?” she asked.

  “A lot.”

  She nodded and slid around him to the corner of the building. She’d be able to give a better count, and likely assessment of danger. She poked her head out and snapped straight with the reverberating crack of a rifle shot echoing through the neighborhood and a plume of red puffing out behind her head.

  Chapter 13

  Blood splattered across Percival’s visor. He felt it smack hotly against his exposed neck and the spot where his gloves didn’t quite meet his jacket. Andrina’s body fell back against him and Percival stumbled backward, looping his arms underneath hers. His hammer thumped to the ground beside them as he staggered under the deadweight of Andrina.

  He fell down with Andrina atop him. He shuddered, rolled her off of him, and rose to one knee beside her. He shivered, staring down at the corpse that used to be his teacher. The bullet had entered her forehead right above her left eye.

  He stared at her, unbelieving that the cooling body was real. He wouldn’t believe it. He’d imagined the shot he’d heard. That’s it, he imagined it. He couldn’t afford to lose someone else.

  He reached out and touched her, though felt nothing through the leather of the glove. He hastily pulled his hand back, and ripped his glove off. Unsteadily he reached down, fingers touching the steaming red gore on her facemask. They came back sticky and Percival felt his stomach flip as he swallowed down the sudden urge to heave its contents into the grass next to them.

  He closed his eyes once more as he felt for the pulse he already knew he’d not find. The nightmare continued as he slowly rolled Andrina’s corpse off him and into the grass. He wiped his hand across his faceplate, smearing his vision with more red. Unconsciously, he pulled his glove back on, and staggered to his feet. He knew the zombies would be coming. Eventually they would be attracted by the fresh meat at his feet. Though with enough luck, not that he’d had that in spades of late, the zombies would shuffle toward the asshole with a rifle first.

  Percival bent and took one more red-tinged look at his former teacher and, reluctantly, policed her weaponry and ammunition, knowing he should do more for her, that she deserved more, and painfully acknowledging that he couldn’t do more for her.

  He pulled her arms to cross her chest as a shriek echoed off the buildings around him. A screeching scream that bounced its way from the backyard he’d just left. A scream that was echoed by the feeding moan of the zombies surrounding them. Percival scooped his hammer up from where he’d dropped it.

  He suddenly saw the world in a fresh tinge of red that had nothing to do with the blood smeared across his motorcycle helmet. He took long, near silent, strides to the backyard. He wished the sight he came across could still shock him.

  Karl sat with his back against a grill, left hand wrapped tightly around a wound that dumped hot blood from the middle of his right bicep. Carlos stood with in a shooting stance with his M4 bouncing between several targets, and one of them was holding Sarah at gun point.

  Morrbid stood with one arm, hand still gripping his red dripping machete, wrapped around Sarah’s middle, the other pressed a pistol – Percival assumed Karl’s pistol – to her hazmat helmet. She looked as though she were about to be sick. Roy Joy crouched in the corner of the yard, away from the approaching and moaning zombies, rocking slightly.

  Jessica stood less than a foot from the captive and former priest, her good arm outstretched toward him. Percival could see her lips moving, but didn’t hear anything as a soft red buzz settled onto him and a winter chill gripped his heart.

  Morrbid said something, Percival could see his lips move through the clear plastic of his compromised hazmat helmet, and gestured at Percival with the pistol. Percival didn’t hesitate. He dropped his hammer from his left hand as his right brought up Andrina’s pistol in a smooth arc that unleashed a thunderclap of noise and a tiny metal lightning bolt that painted Morrbid’s helmet red from the inside.

  A tinny shriek penetrated the buzz of red static encircling Percival as he brought his left hand up to steady his right. The shriek, emanating from Jessica, ceased with a thunderclap from his hand. The red started to fray from the edges of Percival's vision as he lowered the pistol he'd just used to snuff two lives out.

  Sarah sank to her knees as Carlos pivoted to bring him to face the moaning zombies encroaching on the team's perimeter. Fire spat from the end of his M4 and collided with the zombies, dropping them in little burps of metal rain. Roy Joy continued to rock, murmuring to himself as the chaos around him began to resolve. Percival moved toward Sarah as Carlos pivoted and brought his M4 to aim at Percival.

  "What the hell?" Carlos shouted.

  "I could ask the same of you," Percival crouched by Sarah. Killing Morrbid and Jessica had been frighteningly easy for him. Both of them were living, breathing people and he hadn't hesitated in the slightest in throwing bullets through their skulls.

  "You shot them…" Carlos's voice trailed off after the words left his mouth.

  “I did.” Percival's voice was steady, and he felt steady along with it. Killing shouldn’t be easy, and he should feel some sort of remorse for having taken two more lives, but he didn’t. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad one. Psychopaths didn’t feel anything killing people, did this make him a psychopath? He reached out and gently touched the side of Sarah’s hazmat helmet. “Hey, you okay?”

  She looked up at him, her eyes blank for a moment. Something within her clicked and she nodded. “Yeah… is he?”

  Percival nodded. “He’s not going to threaten anyone again.”

  “Jessi—“

  “He shot her too,” Carlos said.

  “She was dead on her feet anyways,” Percival said without turning toward Carlos. He pressed Andrina’s pistol into Sarah’s hand before touching her shoulder and standing to move toward Karl.

  “We… We heard a gunshot. Where’s Andrina?” Karl grunted through the pain of his injury. He looked past Percival. “Carlos, you can stop poin…pointing that at our valued leader and get to helping Roy Joy.”

  An icy hand gripped Percival’s guts as he shook his head. “She’s not with us any more… Carlos, we likely have a horde shambling toward u
s, watch the alley. Sarah, honey, get Roy Joy on his feet and moving again.” Percival pushed his grief deep down and compartmentalized it. He could deal with it later. Right now, he had the rest of his team, which was rapidly diminishing, to keep safe and on the move.

  “Was that the gunsho—“

  “Yeah… It was, now let me see your arm, old man,” Percival said quietly. “This Morrbid’s handiwork?”

  “Percival?” Sarah’s voice echoed into his helmet. “Roy Joy’s gone.”

  Percival shuffled his duffel bag forward and dropped it unceremoniously down beside Karl before looking up. Carlos was, thankfully, now pointing his M4 toward the alleyway that Percival and Andrina had scouted while Sarah, Morrbid’s machete hung from her belt and Karl’s pistol was tucked into her waistband, was standing near the corner of the yard that Roy Joy had previously occupied. The large man was nowhere to be seen.

  Percival let out a soft groan. Three dead people and one run off. “We’ll see if we can chase him down in a second.”

  “You should go, boy,” Karl said.

  “Like hell,” Percival muttered in response. “I’ve lost too many people to just leave you behind now.”

  “Percival, that fucked up priest didn’t clean his machete before swinging it at me. I’m likely infected.”

  “Likely. Not definitely, and in the meantime, I ain’t gonna let you bleed out. Move your hand.” Percival had pulled a small wad of medical supplies from his duffel. He’d not be able to properly patch Karl up, but that wasn’t going to stop him from providing some immediate aid to his teacher and friend. Karl did as Percival asked.

  The machete had bit nearly to the bone, leaving a vicious and ragged hole in the meat of Karl’s bicep. The man would be lucky to regain use of the arm. Percival didn’t hesitate and immediately crammed a folded wad of bandages against the wound, pressing them into Karl’s jacket as he did. He pressed a second layer before wrapping an Ace Bandage tightly around Karl’s arm and securing it.

  “You’ll have to forgive me for the haphazard job,” Percival said. He bent to help the other man up. “You’re gonna make it back to campus though.”

  Karl managed a weak, and grief-ridden, smile.

  “We got company coming,” Carlos shouted. His M4 spat fire.

  “Can you walk on your own?” Percival asked.

  Karl nodded. He’d already clamped his hand over his wounded bicep once more. Percival stuffed the bandages he’d not used back into his duffel and slung it over his shoulder. He scooped his friendly hammer back up and started off toward Sarah. “We’re leaving. I don’t know who shot Andrina, just that I don’t want to meet them.”

  What he didn’t add was that he didn’t want anyone else to be added to his body count today. He knew he would if he needed to, but wouldn’t go out of his way to do so. Maybe that made him less of a psychopath than he’d originally worried. He looked to Sarah. “Which way did Roy Joy go? I don’t want to lose anyone else. We find him and leave.”

  Sarah shook her head, stumbled a step then recovered. She must have still been feeling the effects of the wound to her ear from the night before. Percival glanced down at Morrbid’s body and resisted, barely, the urge to kick it.

  “I dunno,” Sarah said. “He was here one moment and gone the next.”

  “And we don’t have time to debate direction,” Carlos shouted as he exchanged magazines. The whole of the shambling horde from the street was filtering into the alleyway between the two houses. Thankfully, none seemed fresh enough to be sprinters. Unfortunately, they didn’t have the bullets to deal with every last one and the noisy horde was likely going to draw every zombie for miles around at this rate.

  “Back the way we came.” Percival’s voice held a finality that said if they bumped across Roy Joy, excellent, and if not… and he punctuated the statement with a bullet from his pistol that shattered the throat of a zombie shuffling down the alleyway. He toppled forward, jaws still snapping, though with his spinal column destroyed, unable to do anything else. “Sarah, you’re on point. Shoot anything that moves and isn’t Roy Joy. Carlos, draw up the rear.”

  Without a word of objection, Percival’s team moved, Karl right in front of him. Sarah disappeared through the hedge and everyone followed her into the next yard, moving quickly and not entirely quietly. Zombies had filtered from the street into the yard and were dispatched with hastily fired shots from Sarah’s pistol. The horde was following and tracking them as they moved at a fast jog across the back yard straight for the hedge.

  Percival twisted to level shots across the backyard at the approaching horde of undead. His mind whipped between where things had gone so wrong and how to keep everyone still with him alive.

  Sarah pressed herself through the hedge. Karl staggered and stopped at the hedge as Carlos backed into them. He turned and unloaded his rifle in quick bursts.

  “What’re you doing?” Percival demanded of Karl.

  “Let… me buy you some more…time, kid.” Karl’s forehead had broken out in a sweaty mess and he’d become several shades paler. “We’re not ev…even moving that quick and I’m getting winded.”

  “That’s not an option, Karl,” Percival stubbornly said. He cast a quick glance toward the oncoming zombies. A wall of undulating, shuffling, and shambling undead flesh pressed between the gaps between the houses. A couple were also beginning to press themselves through the hedge opposite them. The dull thumps of pistol fire cut through the feeding moans around them, announcing with an absolute surety the presence of the undead in the next yard with Sarah.

  “Not giving you an option,” Karl said. He punctuated the words by sitting, or more accurately a controlled tumble, down. He quickly shed the pack he was wearing and slid one of his spare pistol magazines from a pocket. “You make me proud. Give ‘em hell.”

  “You’re too stubborn for your own good.” Percival took the pack and slipped it over his shoulder.

  “If you two are done with the theatrics…” Carlos muttered as he swapped magazines on his rifle once more. “The dead’re closing in.”

  “Go.” Karl looked past Percival and Carlos.

  Percival dropped his pistol into Karl’s lap and pressed through the hedge. Pistol shots echoed after him as Carlos followed through.

  Sarah looked at Percival. “Karl?”

  Percival merely shook his head. Sarah’s features flickered through a myriad of grief and sadness before settling back into pained determinedness. “’Kay.”

  She fired off a round into a horde that was nearly as close as the ones in the previous yard. Percival pressed past her, angling for the back edge of the yard as well as the next yard over.

  “Carlos, you’re still on rear guard, I’ll take point from here.” Percival dug a fresh weapon from Karl’s pack while saying a quiet prayer to a deity he was certain didn’t exist anymore that they’d be able to make it out of this alive.

  He settled his duffel and Karl’s pack into place to the sound of a rapid staccato of shots from the other yard, followed by a pause and a singular shot. Percival pressed through the hedge and away from the zombies and carnage.

  Chapter 14

  Percival collapsed on the backseat of the Humvee. The past hour of jogging, shooting, and finally hiding, had passed in a blur. He vaguely remembered a handful of events: a shattered face here, smashing through a house door there, A lost magazine on the back step of someone’s home, and a close call in the forest as they neared the Humvee. That last one was the clearest, and had left a tear in his leather jacket. Ragged holes now existed where the zombie had bitten, but not gotten to his skin beneath.

  Someone cranked the key in the Humvee’s ignition and the engine, after a shockingly long, pregnant second, turned over. Percival closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see just how empty the spacious Humvee’s interior was. Just the previous morning, they’d crammed over half a dozen people into the vehicle, and still had ample room for gear.

  And now there were a mere three peop
le traveling together. They’d not found Roy Joy in their frantic, fleeing trip back to the Humvee. He kept his eyes squeezed closed, flashes of faces jumping in behind his closed lids. Someone was speaking to him in the real world, Sarah he thought, but he couldn’t hear them clearly. He’d gotten them killed. Directly killed two of them even, Morrbid and Jessica’s faces flickered through his mind’s eye, and reduced his party to less than half what it was.

  The Humvee started to move, pulling out of where they’d hidden it. An exchange of words passed between the other occupants of the vehicle and over Percival as tears squeezed out of his eyes. He shuddered as soft, feminine words slid to his ears. Gentle hands carefully tugged his helmet forward, pulling it off and settling it to the side.

  He shuddered and flinched away from the rough hand as it touched his cheek, gentle as it was. He didn’t feel he deserved it. How dare they put trust into him. Soft lips pressed against his ear.

  “Don’t you dare break, Percival Strayton Polz,” Sarah whispered quietly into his ear.

  He shook his head, turning his face toward her voice. She gently wiped the tears from his face.

  “Their deaths aren’t on you.” She kept her voice quiet. Her face flickered to pain for a moment, then back to a quiet, strong, stoniness. “You can’t—“

  “I shot him in the face,” Percival countered. “And then Jessica as well.”

  Sarah shook her head, shifting to straddle his lap.

  “I…” she paused, took a deep breath as she rested her hands on his chest. “I won’t say he deserved it, even though he had a gun to my head and shot me yesterday. And Jessica was dead on—“

  “We don’t kno—“

  “Don’t interrupt me, Percy,” Sarah said. She closed her eyes and leaned to rest her forehead against his. “Jessica was dead where she stood. Do I agree with you shooting her? No. Do I blame you? No. Would I have done the same thing in your shoes? I don’t know. I do know that had our roles been reversed and Morrbid had a gun to your head, I’d have shot him without hesitation. He brutally attacked Karl, killed him in the end, and was going to kill me after he took what he wanted from you.”