The rest of them stood silently in the doorway, feeling a chill creep up their spines.
"Think that'll open up our exit?" Curt asked facetiously. "Maybe we don't need it."
"It's better to have it just in case," Sarah added.
Curt looked down at his shoes and kicked at the dusty floor. "Well shit." He stared into the room again and gulped down the saliva that had been building up in his mouth. "Fuck me," he said as he stepped into the office. The skin on the dead man's face had been peeled away, showing the skull underneath with only small parts of cartilage or lip hanging off.
The sight of it made Sarah think about the Shadow Man, as Amanda called him. It was like he was staring at her by proxy through the poor factory foreman who decided to lock everyone outside and blow his brains out, presumably when the zombie apocalypse hit.
Curt shuffled over toward the corpse, leading with his right foot and reaching out slowly and carefully for the key ring. "Can't we shoot it again, just to be sure?" he asked nervously, and the sound of his voice echoing in the small and silent space scared him more. His fingers wrapped around the keys and the string around the man's neck, gently lifting them with a tinkling of metal.
The corpse's teeth were bared behind one layer of lip on the top, and Curt felt its black eyes stare him down, daring him to pull the string over its mouth. He knew it was going to open up and take a big bite out of his fingers, and then he would go crazy and become just like the rest of them. He winced and closed his eyes, gritting his teeth, as he pulled the string the rest of the way. He felt his knuckles graze over the corpse, and he felt a chill so cold run up his hand that he nearly dropped the keys. But he kept pulling up, and then they were off and free.
He scrambled away from the man back to the doorway, giving himself a scare when he bumped into the frame. "Got 'em," he said triumphantly as he turned to the others.
Gunfire erupted outside of the factory, which sounded like muffled pops to them. It wasn't as loud or as constant as the turret and seemed more controlled and tactical. The five of them stood rooted to the spot, their hearts hammering in their chests, as they listened. The gunfire ceased and then footsteps echoed into the building in a quick stream, keeping quiet.
"Move!" Sarah whispered.
The five of them ran down the edge of the warehouse as Curt held the keys tightly in his fist so they wouldn't make a sound. They ran around a curved section of conveyor belt and began to cut through the middle of the factory. Curt and Ron drew their flashlights at every angle toward the back, looking for a door to escape through, but so far they didn't spot anything.
"We know you're in here!" someone's voice echoed behind them. "Don't hide from us, now!"
They came up against one of the many bottling machines with more conveyor belts stretching off in both directions, blocking their exit. They stopped and looked around as the quiet footsteps poured into the factory behind them.
"Turn the flashlights off!" Wayne whispered, crouching down.
"Why?" Sarah asked.
"Just do it!"
Curt and Ron turned them off and they all huddled down around Wayne.
"They have night vision goggles," he explained.
"How do you know?"
"Trust me, with gear that expensive you better believe they have night vision."
"Won't they be able to see us no matter what, then?" Ron asked.
"Yeah, but you'll stick out like a sore thumb with a light in your hand," Wayne said. "Hand 'em over."
Ron and Curt reached out and fumbled for his outstretched hand in the darkness, giving him the flashlights.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" one of the soldiers shouted as their footsteps closed in.
"Stay right behind me at all times and do exactly what I tell you, understand?" Wayne's voice whispered in the darkness.
They all muttered agreements and Wayne flicked on one of the flashlights and moved down the path to the right, pausing to lay it on the ground and shine it toward the junction they came from. He quickly moved toward the back of the warehouse with the rest of them following right behind in a crouched walk as he blindly felt his way in the dark.
"There!" one of the soldiers shouted after Wayne and the others were well away from the junction.
"Where?" another asked. "I can't see!"
"Just shoot!"
Automatic fire erupted behind them and Wayne used the opportunity to flick on the other flashlight with him and move quickly through the remaining part of the factory floor. There was an addition on the main floor space that looked like an empty loading bay, with some machinery and a set of catwalks on each side stretching over top of them and back into the main factory. A tall, sliding shutter door stood at the back of the area and it may as well have had a heavenly glow surrounding it to the five of them.
"They're not there!" a soldier shouted. "Keep moving!"
The survivors came to the door and found a thick padlock securing it at the floor.
"Curt, it's all you," Wayne said. He pointed the flashlight directly at the lock, a couple inches in front of it, trying to cup the light with his hands so the soldiers following them wouldn't see it splashing up on the walls.
Curt hurried over and knelt down, rummaging through the keys as quietly as he could. There were about twenty of them and he cursed under his breath as he tried each one, becoming frustrated that none of them would go in.
"Hurry up!" Wayne rasped.
"I'm trying!" Curt protested.
"Oh God," Carly muttered, sick to her stomach. "I told you we shouldn't have come here, why the fuck didn't you listen to me? Oh God."
Sarah wanted to say something to put her at ease, but she couldn't even do the same for herself.
Curt got halfway through the key ring when they heard the soldiers close in. They were coming to the end of the main factory and would be rounding the corner at any moment.
"Come on!" Wayne said.
"I got it!" Curt said, shoving a key all the way into the lock. He twisted it and it came undone. He pulled it off and he and Wayne yanked up the door, wanting to effect a quieter exit, but not having any more time.
The door rattled up on its rollers and let in the moonlight and the fierce wind of the night.
A sea of zombies stood on the other side of the door and they all turned and stared at the five of them. After all these years being penned out in the yard, finally they could get inside the factory and take their sweet revenge on the foreman. But the five humans in front of them weren't so bad of a prize themselves, and they hadn't eaten in so long.
Sarah and Curt each had only a few rounds of ammo left in their guns, and the crowd of zombies was so dense and close to the door that there was no way around them. Before they could decide what to do, the zombies broke into a run for them. They retreated back into the factory, looking for somewhere else to escape.
"Up here!" Wayne cried, pointing to a ladder leading up to one of the catwalks.
They all headed for it, quickly ascending it as the zombies nipped at their heels and the soldiers were about to appear at any second. Sarah was the last one up, and just as she started to climb, one of the soldiers came around into the loading bay and spotted her.
"There's one!" he shouted, shooting at her.
She ducked down and then one of the zombies hit her from behind, sending her crashing onto the floor. The dead approached as the soldier adjusted his aim, and Sarah scrambled up to her feet and ran to the other end of the loading bay, the zombie behind her cutting off her access to the ladder. But there was another one leading up to the catwalk on the opposite side of the bay. The soldier opened fire again and Sarah dodged each bullet until she almost arrived at the end, when a lucky shot clipped her in the arm.
She cried out and stumbled the rest of the way, falling against the ladder. If it weren't for the rungs that she was able to grab onto, she would have hit the floor. She forced herself through the horrible pain and used her adrenaline to climb up the la
dder as the soldier reloaded.
The end of the catwalk where she was overlooked a big vat below that was used for depositing empty bottles to be crushed up and recycled. A small out-of-reach window sat in the wall in front of her and let a little bit of light into the area, but there was nothing but blackness inside the vat, and it must have been a long way down to the actual crushing and grinding machinery.
Sarah turned and ran along the short stretch of catwalk toward the corner where it wrapped around back into the factory, but suddenly she stopped in her tracks.
One of the soldiers came around the corner, the inside of his helmet's visor glowing a dull green. He aimed his assault rifle at her and blocked her path.
Sarah backed up to the end of the catwalk, leaving her stuck between the soldier and the zombies down below, angrily and dumbly trying to get up the ladder but failing.
In the soft moonlight coming in through the open bay door, Sarah could faintly see the top of the catwalk on the other end. The other four had found a vent in the wall next to them and managed to open it and climb outside onto something without any of the soldiers noticing. She watched them leave one by one, and they all disappeared from her sight. Everyone except for Carly. Only her head remained poking out from the vent, and Sarah knew that Carly would never leave her, no matter what. She suddenly felt a wave of guilt come over her, despite her hopeless situation. Guilt at always siding with Wayne instead of Carly lately. Guilt at taking her for granted and all but ignoring her. Guilt at when she had a choice between saving Wayne and saving Carly, she picked Wayne, and yet here Carly was, staying with her to the very end despite that like a loyal dog. A loyal friend.
Tears rolled down Sarah's face, and she knew that the same was happening for Carly.
The soldier blocking her escape on the catwalk lifted a walkie-talkie up to his mouth and passed a few words back and forth with someone. When he was finished he put it away on his belt. "The boss is on his way," he said.
"Why?" Sarah managed to utter in a shaky voice. "We didn't do anything to you. Why don't you just let me go?"
"I got a dead friend a couple blocks away who would disagree," he said. "Besides, the boss is looking for one of you."
"What?" she said, but the soldier stayed silent. More soldiers showed up on the catwalk behind him and they stood and waited. The minutes seemed to tick away endlessly. She knew what was coming; the Shadow Man—that veritable mountain of a man—was on his way and she knew she was going to die.
The zombies cried out in frustration from below until the noise grew to a fever pitch in Sarah's ears and she heard nothing but a dull buzz. Finally, the sound of a vehicle pulling to a stop outside the bay door cut through it as bright headlights washed over the zombies at the back of the crowd inside the bay and then cut out.
Sarah was confused; if anyone came through the bay door, they would be mauled by the undead. But the next thing she saw was a sight so terrifying and shocking that she nearly lost the ability to draw breath into her lungs.
The Shadow Man strolled into the loading bay through the door, alone. He towered above the zombies in front of him, the moonlight highlighting the edge of his mask and the purple skull that stared at her with its soulless eye sockets.
The zombies didn't pay attention to him, as if they didn't even notice him. And then he walked through the congregation, nudging them out of the way with his gigantic body as he made his way for Sarah. None of the dead that stumbled out of his path paid him any mind as he came through, his broad shoulders lurching up and down with each monstrous step.
Sarah stood dumbfounded as she watched until he climbed up the ladder and stood in front of her. He was so tall that he looked like he was almost twice her height from her perspective. The soldiers standing at the corner of the catwalk instinctively backed away a few steps from him.
His hand shot out with amazing speed for his size and grabbed her under the chin. She thought he was going for her throat, but he simply lifted her head to get a better look at her. The pain in her arm from the bullet wound and the slash from the knife wound really ached at her now that her adrenaline was wearing off.
"Where are the others with you?" he asked in a booming voice. "Where is he?"
"W-who?" Sarah stuttered.
He turned his head to the soldiers. "Have you found the others with her?"
"No, sir," one of them said quickly as the others stayed completely still.
He turned his attention back to Sarah. "You're not going to tell me where they are, are you? Last chance." There was something in his voice that was at the same time mesmerizing and terrifying, drawing her in as he spoke, but leaving her too frightened to answer.
She shook her head, using every fiber in her body to keep herself from looking past him at Carly who was still watching from the vent. Sarah stood defiantly against him, despite the ridiculous size difference and the negating effect that had on her rebelliousness.
"Pity," he said with such a slow rasp in his voice that it was almost seductive. Then he took the underside of her chin, still in his grasp, and shoved her backward.
She stumbled, pinwheeling her arms for balance until the catwalk vanished under her feet. Sarah fell into the black chasm of the vat, a fall so deep that when her lifeless body hit the bottom, it hardly made a sound.
14
In Shadows
Carly watched in disbelief from the vent as Sarah vanished from sight. She saw the tall man in black turn and say something to the soldiers before descending the ladder and heading back through the crowd of zombies. Some of the soldiers on the other catwalk lingered and walked over to the vat that Sarah fell into, looking down into the black abyss.
"Come on!" Wayne said, tugging on her arm.
Carly pulled her head out of the vent slowly, letting the grate gently fall back against the wall. She crouched on the tall air-conditioning unit, feeling dazed. "I... I can't."
"She's dead," Wayne told her sternly. "You can't do anything for her. Now come on!"
She felt like a piece of her died with Sarah and she didn't have the energy to fight anymore. She let him take her by the arm and help her climb down onto the ground. Ron and Curt were waiting away by the chain-link fence for them. There were no zombies around, and if they could just find a way to get outside of the fence, they would be able to flee without being seen.
The engine of a vehicle started up from somewhere around the corner of the factory, then it faded off into the distance.
Wayne carried Carly over to the fence under one arm and Curt pulled up a sack of moldy old cloth he had found. They pulled out the contents and draped them over the barbed wire at the top of the fence, creating a space wide enough to climb over.
Curt went over first and then Ron with Wayne's help. He seemed a little out of shape, but he managed to get to the top and slip over to the other side without causing himself any harm.
"Let's go," Wayne told Carly, looking over his shoulder to make sure the coast was clear.
She let him pull her toward the fence, but then she snapped out of her daze and resisted him. "No," she said stubbornly.
"We don't have time for this!" Wayne snapped.
"I'm not going!" she shouted. "She's not dead!"
"Keep your voice down!"
"I have to go back for her!"
Ron and Curt stood on the other side of the fence with their mouths agape. They felt like someone who had the rug pulled out from under them right as they were about to grasp the prize.
"It's not worth it," Curt told her.
But Carly didn't even respond. She turned and rushed back for the factory.
"Stop her!" Ron said to Wayne.
Wayne just shook his head. "We all make our own choices." He turned and climbed over the fence, breaking Ron and Curt out of their shocked gazes and urging them to leave. The three of them moved over a small hill and disappeared into a small patch of woods beyond.
Darkness crept inside of her from every orifice and laceration
, trying to worm its way into her soul and consume it. She tried to move her body, but nothing worked. She focused on her right arm, but it wouldn't cooperate. She felt the cuts all over her body, like a thousand knives had taken a piece from her. They all stung badly and soon her flesh seared into a red-hot blanket of pain on her back. And then it itched, which was the worst part.
Sarah stared up toward the top of the vat and feebly drew air into her lungs. Her throat burned. At first she couldn't understand what had happened to her; she thought that she had survived, but all she could see—all she could feel—was blackness eating away at her.
Voices drifted down from above. As reality slowly started to come back to her, she realized that it was two soldiers having a conversation on the catwalk. They talked about inane, unintelligible things, and then their fading footsteps echoed down to her.
"Move," she thought she told herself, although no sound actually came out of her mouth. She tried her left arm, and this time something happened. She felt it slowly rake over the shards of broken glass under her, making her skin go red-hot again with pain. But at this point she was starting to become dulled to it, and the only thing that was important to her was getting up. Her mind was still a mess with a thousand thoughts swarming all over the place, and at that moment she didn't even know if she had a purpose. But she knew she had to get up.
Somehow she managed to turn over onto her hands and knees, wincing as the glass continued to slice her skin and her clothing. She shifted down onto her butt and looked up toward the catwalk. To her it may as well have been fifty feet up. The first thought that came to her was wondering if she would starve to death or die of thirst and wither away into a pile of bones, never to be found.
Zombie Apocalypse Box Set 2 Page 14
