***
Max was slowly picking his way through the shamble of rooms and offices of the sheriff station when he heard a gunshot reverberate up from beyond and below the dark corridor. The shot gave him renewed hope of finding someone that was still on the humane side of human and he bolted blindly through the shadows in the direction of the sound. He dozed through anything in his path with total disregard for cacophony he left in his wake. Aiding whoever had fired the shot was now paramount to avoiding his own personal detection. His mind was squarely on the thought of Vinny –either on the giving or receiving end of the gun- and the possibility of his friend’s survival.
He wasted no time with the basement steps and instead leaped down them without breaking his stride or his grip on the shotgun that he held cocked and ready. He was now down in the retention cell level of the station and light was sparse. A small shard of light pierced the cellblock and bounced low off of the wall. He felt that was a good sign. A ‘biter’ probably wouldn’t use a flashlight. He slowed his pace in order to dampen the sound of his approach and zeroed in on the direction of the light just before it was extinguished with a pop. He heard the gun sound off again, this time a series of low hollow tones echoed through the cellblock and across the cold concrete floor. The reverberation caused his ears to ache.
When the gun had first been fired, Max thought he recognized the sound as a large caliber handgun. After the most recent flurry he was sure of it and by his count that meant that the weapon was almost certainly empty now, leaving he or she who wielded it defenseless against a threat that they probably couldn’t comprehend.
Figuring that anyone close to the sound of the gun had more than likely been temporarily deafened by it, Max quickened his pace until he got closer to where he’d seen the beam. Max put his back against the smooth concrete wall opposite the cell doors and raised the butt of the shotgun to his shoulder. He slid silently against the wall while covering the last few yards to the final cell.
***
Max’s eyes have dilated enough for him to see a bit in the darkness and what they show him is a wild looking red-eyed Vinny, covered in blood and shuffling his way toward him. Max swallows hard and curses himself for sending Vinny in alone and unaware of the threat he was facing. Now, from the look of him, he is not only infected but has already found and fed on his first victim –most likely Lisa. He must have cornered her down here where she got off a few shots before he ripped her apart. Max hadn’t been fast enough to save either of them. Lisa had shared Onan’s fate and Vinny had shared Vanessa’s. If he is to break the chain, it has to be done here and now. No time for contemplation can be spared. It is time to flip that switch, embrace what he’d feared, and protect those that remain. At this distance, if he is discovered by Vinny there is no way he could make it out alive. He has to be proactive.
Max looks down the sights of the short-barreled riot shotgun and lines up Vinny for a headshot. He is reminded of words spoken long ago by his father, “Some think shootin’ a man is easy, like mailing a letter. You just pull the trigger, send it off and the rest is out of your hands until it reaches where it’s going. That’s bullshit boy. When you shoot a man, there’s nothing between you and him but the skin of your palm pressed against that handle and your fingertip on the trigger. The bullet is an extension of your will that you can’t take back once it’s flown from the barrel on its way to take his life. Ain’t nothing more up close and personal than that”. He struggles to hold back a sob that would give away his position. Max can’t believe that he once again faces a circumstance similar to the one that had left him scarred for life at such young age. But just like before, he knows what he must do.
Vinny has his head down and mercifully hasn’t noticed Max against the wall sheathed in darkness. Max begins to tighten his finger on the trigger. His eyes squint in preparation of the deafening blast that his shotgun is sure to produce. He watches as Vinny reaches for something at the base of the cell door and pulls it, causing the door to squeal in reply. Max tightens his finger a little more until only a millimeter remains between life and death. He silently says a final teary goodbye to not only his best friend, but also his only friend with knowledge of the truth about his past. He hears an unearthly growl rise and knows that the Vinny he knew is gone.
***
The pain in Vinny’s shoulder makes pulling the sheet from under the door an awkward affair and in his struggles to free it he takes no notice of the high-pitched squall it makes. Unfortunately, the sound reawakens a hungry fury from behind him. A throaty growl, quiet at first but building in intensity, rises from where he’d left -what he thought to be- Lisa’s lifeless body. He turns just in time to see a fully animated Lisa rising to her feet and advancing on him across the ransacked cell. He has already begun to reach for his weapon when he remembers –bitterly- that the revolvers cylinder is empty. He realizes in that moment that he will soon meet the same fate as Zack, ‘that poor bastard’. He is about to die alone in a cannibalistic rage. A gunshot rings out, piercing his right eardrum and smashing Lisa square in the chest.
‘CRACK, CRACK’, the next two shots come in rapid succession knocking Lisa back but not down.
The thunderous roar reverberating through the small concrete cell coupled with the blinding pain from Vinny’s left shoulder make his ears ring and vision begin to blur, but not before he can make out the grotesque figure of Lisa regaining her footing and advancing on him once more.
***
A split second before Max could muster the courage to pull the trigger that last millimeter and take his friend’s life he saw a stirring in the cell behind him as a madwoman in a yellow and blood-soaked crimson windbreaker rose and flung herself at Vinny. Max pulled the trigger and let the buckshot fly, hitting the thing center mass. He slid back the cocking mechanism and plunged the next shell into the chamber. He cracked off the next two shots with growing aptitude. To Max’s dismay the mighty blasts only stumbled the monster briefly. It soon recovered and resumed its vector toward Vinny who was teetering, apparently on the verge of collapse.
***
Max has time to chamber one more shell and is desperate to make it count. He shoves the barrel between the bars of the cage and lets loose with an explosive shredder, zeroed in on the creature’s head. The effect is shattering as bits of gray matter and bone fragments paint the walls and bars in varying shades of death. The shredders were indeed true to their name.
With the most immediate threat extinguished, Max now turns his sights back to Vinny who has indeed collapsed. He has to be sure. He cautiously approaches Vinny’s flaccid body, fearing another Lisa-like revival. He kneels down next to him and gingerly rolls him over. He is relieved to see that Vinny has not been shot and though the available light leaves Max wanting, his friend appears to be free of bite marks. Though he is covered in blood, Max finds no wounds on Vinny and concludes that none of the blood is his. Vinny’s chest is rising indicating that he yet lives.
Vinny’s head had landed on a bed sheet that was bundled up on the floor behind the cell door. Max realizes that Vinny must have been reaching for this when he first saw him. Max props the shotgun against the bars, not bothering to reload it. He still has a couple of shredders left in the gun and after witnessing the effect they’d had on Lisa he was confident they would suffice should the need arise.
Max removes Vinny’s shirt to continue his inspection, “Damn!” he exclaims upon sight of Vinny’s left shoulder.
It is already crimson and blue and it looks misshapen under the skin. A large lump bulges where no lump has any business being, and a dugout now remains where the bulbous protrusion of bone once stood. The combination of searing pain and dehydration from last night’s alcohol binge must have caused him to pass out. Max considers this a good sign since it was unlikely a biter would succumb to, or even feel, pain.
Max gets busy tearing the sheet and fashioning it into a sling. He is thankful that Vinny isn’t awake to feel what he is about to do. Af
ter pulling Vinny up and toward him, Max places a hand on Vinny’s shoulder and another around his back. He pulls Vinny closer with one hand while he presses against his shoulder with the other in a jerking movement that produces a loud bony ‘snap’. He then takes Vinny’s forearm and jerks it down and away from his body. Max is no doctor but for most collegiate-level football players the injury is familiar and doesn’t usually require surgery to fix. He figures if the shoulder is merely dislocated then better to attempt realignment now, than wait until Vinny comes to.
Once Max is satisfied that he’s done all he can with the shoulder, he places the sling around Vinny’s neck and inserts the injured arm. He sees a backpack lying nearby and pulls it to him. The pack is surprisingly heavy and /Max is delighted when he discovers its contents.
“That’s my boy,” he says quietly with a smile and stuffs what remains of the sheet into the backpack that is now full to bursting.
Max slings the backpack over one shoulder and turns to Vinny. Since he is unconscious -and by no means, a small guy- Max knows he would never make it up the stairs with him in tow. He steps out of the cell and looks for an emergency exit sign. Max knows that even if the power is out on the detention level any exit signs should be running on a battery backup. They are in luck. Six cells back, there is a barely lit exit sign over a dark recess in the wall. Given the circumstances when he’d past it the first time, Max isn’t surprised that he hadn’t noticed it until now. It turns out that the sign is in fact the source he can thank for the miniscule amount of light in this lower level.
Max lifts Vinny up onto his knees, places his left shoulder against Vinny’s stomach and hoist him up and across his back in one jerky motion. He waivers slightly while his legs adjust to the increased load of not only Vinny, but also the fully stacked backpack. He reaches down and grabs hold of the warm barrel of the shotgun still propped against the bars.
Through this entire process, he keeps his eyes trained on the ground not desiring another look at the grizzly wallpaper he’d created just minutes ago. It wouldn’t do for him to loose his stomach contents now.
Max trudges his way to the emergency exit and finds it locked. He figures a locked exit door in such close proximity to holding cells was a necessary evil. No matter, he had the master key and didn’t mind using it. He steps back at an angle, and without dropping Vinny he raises the shotgun with a single powerful arm and booms one more shredder from the barrel, splintering the knob and lock into a thousand different pieces that tinkle across the floor like a miniature game of jacks.
Max kicks the door open and immediately the exit alarm sounds. The screeching siren echoes through the night and he’s sure it will bring the wrath of a dozen infected. After stepping through, he shuts the door behind them but the alarm endures. Maybe the shredder hadn’t been such a great idea after all. He takes a quick glance around outside and realizes they’re in an alley behind the station. He curses his foolishness in not reloading the shotgun and prays that one shredder will be enough to take him the distance around the building and back to the Audi where he hopes to find Brooke safely waiting. At least eight minutes had come and gone, but if he knew Brooke, her stubbornness was good for at least ten more. The journey around the building proves a struggle with Vinny in tow but is otherwise uneventful.
The streets are still dark and quiet and Max finds himself wondering –not for the first time- what had happened to the sheriff’s staff? The only living thing in the entire building had been Lisa, if in fact that could be classified as living. It must have been vacant when she arrived, but if that was the case then how did she get infected… all good questions, which would have to wait for another time. Right now, he has a more pressing problem. The Audi and Brooke are nowhere in sight.
Chapter 9 – Escapade
After Brooke exited the sheriff station and assessed the street, she headed for the Audi, repeating Max’s instructions with every step, “Connect the yellow and blue wires… yellow and blue.”
She climbed into the heap and did just that. After several false starts the car sputtered to a start as Max had promised. Brooke immediately depressed the door lock button and was pleased to see that it worked. In light of this, she mentally retracted a few choice words she’d used in regard to the car in the past. The locked doors gave her an increased sense of security. Deep down she knew that they would do little to fend off an angry infected but she was going to try and not dwell on that point right now.
Over the next five minutes, she checked her watch repeatedly, growing more and more fretful with each passing tick of the second-hand. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tight enough to leave impressions in the leather and sweat ran along her brow. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a buzzer chirped and a yellow light popped on.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
The “low fuel” indicator blared up at her mockingly. Sitting at idle had burned up the small amount of gas the car had in the tank. She wanted to scream out loud at her misfortune. Brooke also had the unfortunate knowledge that by the time the Audi told you that you were in need of gas; you were in fact already running on fumes. She had a difficult decision to make. Should she continue to wait –engine idling- and risk running out of gas at a time when the Audi was their only means of escape? What if –god forbid- Max never returned? She couldn’t push the car to a gas station. There wasn’t even one in sight. She could shut off the engine to conserve what precious fuel remained but that would again put them in an awkward position should anyone or anything be in pursuit when Max and Vinny return. The choice wasn’t clear but a decision had to be made. Brooke put the car in drive and headed down Main Street in search of gas.
***
Max stands in the parking lot of the sheriff station racked with indecision. Was Brooke okay? Had something forced her to leave? Had she really done what he’d asked and left after five minutes? The latter was possible but unlikely. It was more likely that she was in fear for her life. The prospect makes Max do a double take over his shoulder. Could the threat still be lurking out of sight? The incessant ringing of the emergency exit creeps back into Max’s train of thought and he knows that if the infected are close, the sound will certainly draw their attention.
He remembers Onan’s gold Mercedes parked a few cars down from where the Audi had been. His legs and back are beginning to strain under the weight of Vinny’s limp body. He barely makes it to the open door of the Mercedes before his legs begin to give out. He awkwardly plops Vinny down in the driver’s seat with no concern for his immediate comfort since he remains unconscious and the position is only intended to be temporary.
Max is hoping to find that Lisa –in her haste- had left the keys in the ignition, but before he can check, his attention is drawn elsewhere. The exit alarm has suddenly stopped -more than likely an automatic reset after a predetermined length of time, but that isn’t what’s troubling Max. Now, in the absence of the mind-numbing drone of the alarm, Max can hear a choir of ominous but familiar shrieks from the halo of darkness that stretches out around him. They are still too far to see but the screams are drawing closer. There is no way to discern the exact number of voices he hears but he knows that even one is more than he can handle in his current state of exhaustion. His shotgun contains only one shredder and the thought crosses his mind that perhaps he should save it for himself.
***
After a lengthy search and two stops and starts in the Audi, Brooke has finally found what she was searching for. She pulls up to a full service pump and hears a ding as she crosses a heavy-duty black cable that stretches across the lane’s entrance. She wonders irrationally, if someone will emerge to assist but has no plans to wait and see. She reaches for the glove compartment where she knows that Vinny always keeps a credit card for fuel. She removes it and checks all windows for signs of movement. She sees none.
Brooke pulls on the door handle and tentatively pushes the door open. Reluctantly she abandons the relative safety of the vehicle
and after another brief survey of the night, she proceeds to swipe Vinny’s card and waits for automatic approval at the pump. Given the current state of affairs, she holds little hope that the card reader will function but she has little to loose in trying. Miraculously her transaction is granted. She reaches for the premium unleaded in hopes that the added octane might improve upon the Audi’s sub par performance. She inserts the pump handle into the tank and engages the auto fill latch. This frees her to keep a constant 360-degree watch.
Brooke notices for the first time, that the lights inside the small gas station convenience store are on and bright. A tinge of hunger pangs her stomach and she realizes that with all that’s happened she hasn’t eaten since the previous day’s dinner. The Audi’s tank is sizeable so she knows she still has a minute before it’s filled. She also knows that it would be best not to have to stop again on their way back to the valley. She needs to get whatever supplies she can now.
Brooke goes to the car’s trunk in search of something that can be used as a weapon. She is hungry, not crazy, and there is no way she is going in there empty handed. She finds a tire iron and hopes that she will have no use for it.
One Blink From Oblivion Page 8
