by Jack Flacco
* * *
Ranger marched to the door of the room where Straightlaced had interrogated Matty. As he prepared to meet the door with the heel of his boot, out from the shadows, the soldier who had pointed his gun at Wildside jumped him, grabbing Ranger in a chokehold, dragging him to the floor. Ranger’s legs thrashed and his arms flailed as the lack of oxygen caused the veins in his temple to throb. He beat his hands on the soldier’s arms, but the soldier tightened his grip even further. Letting go of his assailant’s arm, Ranger’s eyes began to shut. He opened his mouth for oxygen, nothing happened. The movement in Ranger’s legs diminished.
A smile curled from the soldier’s mouth as he realized he’d gained the advantage over his enemy. Pride settled into his eyes. But no sooner had the smug look appeared, it disappeared with fury. The soldier screamed, letting Ranger go. The zombie killer rolled away on the floor leaving the soldier to squirm in pain.
Just as Ranger was about to faint to his death, he had plunged his knife into the right thigh of the soldier, serving a valuable lesson for messing with a zombie killer. When Ranger shook off the faintness, he rose, staggered to where the soldier lay and heaved the knife from the leg. The soldier grimaced and screamed. Ranger could never stand a crybaby. Unholstering his shotgun, he cracked the soldier in the head with its butt. There, no more crying. Next, he put away his weapon and rammed the door to Matty’s room.
Inside, Matty stood frozen staring at Ranger. Straightlaced held her with a pen to her throat.
“Doesn’t it ever end?” Ranger wiped his face with his shoulder.
“Don’t move.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Straightlaced pushed the pen deeper into Matty’s skin.
“Fine. This is how it’s gonna work. I’ll let you leave the room. Hey, I’ll even let you keep the pen. And I’ll spare you the embarrassment of a broken jaw. How does that sound?”
He didn’t have to say anything, the fright of what Ranger might do poured from his eyes.
“All you have to do is disappear.”
He thought for a moment. “How do I know you’re not going to come after me?”
Ranger rolled his eyes and sighed. “I don’t have time for this. Here, I’ll sit in the corner until you decide it’s the best thing for you to do.” And that’s what he did. He sat in the corner with crossed legs and arms, gazing at the ceiling.
Straightlaced stared at Ranger, keeping Matty tight against his body. For a brief moment, he glanced at the doorway as the gunshots outside sounded louder and nearer. Within himself he had it to surrender Matty. But he didn’t know Ranger. Baseball cap, shotgun strapped to his leg, a knife holstered to his side. It all came down to trust. Could he trust Ranger?
Matty grimaced and closed her eyes at the pain from the pen stuck in her throat.
Leaving the clipboard behind, Straightlaced ran out without looking back.
With that over with, Ranger rose and Matty scuttled to him with a hug. As tough as she was, she still was a girl, holding him tight like never before. Her hands clenched to the back of his shirt and her cheek pushed against his chest.
None too good with affection, Ranger curled his arms around her, almost having her disappear in his embrace. A smile creased from his lips.
When she let go, she asked. “Where’s everybody else?”
“Randy and Wildside are headed to set the bomb. The detonator’s shot. Jon? I don’t know where he is.”
“I don’t know either!” Matty’s eyes watered, but she shook off the emotion. “We’ve got to find him!”
* * *
Outside, near the mouth of the opening from the Williams Auditorium, the flesh-grinders kept their pace without relent. A pile of bodies lay before the firing squad. Bullets whizzed, soldiers reloaded, and turrets clanged. Those surviving the army’s onslaught pressed forward. As one line of zombies died another appeared, replacing them.
One of the soldiers had emptied his rifle when he called for more ammo. Another did the same. Valuable time fled as replenishing the ammo caused the zombies to gain distance. At the same time, the undead began forming two other escape routes from the broken wall, one to the left and one to the right. They began to spread and the army moved jeeps in place to the expanding crowd to prevent them from escaping—at least, for now.
Dragging their feet, stepping over the bodies of their slain brothers and sisters, the evil entities’ nostrils flared to the smell of the soldiers’ meat in the air. One of the zombies couldn’t wait any long. It remained behind the crowd until the very last second then sped to attack a soldier laying on his stomach firing at him. Without trouble, the soldier pulled his automatic and blasted the offender in the mouth. Other eaters felt compelled to take chances with those frontline soldiers.
More attacks to the frontline followed, causing the desert-clad military to step back for the first time in the battle.
“We have to contain them!” Colonel Normberg said, a young officer brandishing his stripes. He let off another round into the crowd.
“Contain them!” Soldiers passed the message to the others.
The undead had arrived
Frontline soldiers had broken formation, dropping their rifles as a steady stream of clicks yielded no bullets. They pulled their automatics and blasted anything within a few feet.
The meat-coveters advanced at a steadfast rate, chomping in the air hoping to get lucky and catch something with their menacing jaws. Their hands flailed, grasping at nothing. They pressed those in their path to sound a retreat, expanding the circle of their power.
Not until a soldier had depleted his ammo and attempted to beat a zombie with his bare hands did Colonel Normberg give the order to retreat. But by this time, it was too late. The undead had already sunk their teeth into the soldier, and some began roaming beyond the perimeter.
One by one, the ravenous eaters descended on the soldiers, flipping them backward into the crowd, tearing them apart. One by one, the soldiers fell.
Colonel Normberg sprinted from the frontline, jumped into a jeep, and revved the engine. He shifted it into gear and plowed the throng. Crushing the undead under its wheels, he managed to save the lives of a few soldiers. But help came too late. The officer saw some of the victims had severed limbs that had spilled life on the ground. And some, their intestines dangled in the open.
This shook his insides to anger. He let out a warrior yell and barreled the jeep deep into the collective, crashing it into a concrete garbage can he hadn’t seen. He kept the fight going, pulling his automatic and shooting as many of them as he could. No use though, once he ran out of ammo, the zombies took revenge for their felled kind and clawed him. The officer fell to their appetites as the last of the ground infantry scattered.
From the jeep a zombie rose, Colonel Normberg’s blood coursing down its chin. Its stare pale, its flesh rotting. It was the same evil that escaped the tanker explosion. It was the same devil that’d lost its eye in the battle with Ranger in the rusty, ol’ pickup truck before he met Matty. The same one who wouldn’t surrender to bringing about Ranger’s demise. The creature looked to the North Administration Building as its next conquest.
* * *
“I think something’s wrong with my foot.” Wildside’s face contorted, his eyes swelled as he panted.
“We’re safe for now.” Randy said, hidden in the bushes behind a barrier. He peeked over the hedge and a bullet whizzed past his ear to land behind him in the grass, exploding a clump of dirt into the air. He dropped his head behind the bush. “We’re safe, as long as we don’t move.”
Wildside grabbed at his foot, clenching his teeth.
“Let me have a look.” Randy saw the blood flowing from the heel. Then he spotted the hole. The first thing he did, he untied the shoelace.
Wildside shook his head. “Retie it. Retie it!” He arched his head back, shutting his eyes.
Randy retied the shoe. He went further. He pulled his belt from his pants and strapped it
around Wildside’s ankle. “This should stop the bleeding for now.”
“We have to keep moving.”
“No way. You’re not going anywhere. Tell me what I need to do and I’ll set the timer to the bomb for you.”
“No. Take me there, and I’ll look after it myself.”
“You can’t move, Wildside. I don’t even know how we’re going to get you back. Just tell me how to set it up and I’ll—”
“No!” He broke from the pain and landed his eyes straight on Randy. “Don’t you see?”
“See what?”
“There is no timer!”
A cold sweat hit Randy’s back. “What are you talking about? Of course there is. It wouldn’t make sense for us to come all the way if—”
“Shut up and listen for once.” He rocked back and forth clenching his leg with his hands. “I didn’t build it in on purpose. You were not even supposed to be here. The plan was for me to say the timer broke after the detonator failed to turn on. I then would come up with the brilliant idea that I would stay behind while you all ride off into the sunset.”
“Why?”
“I’m tired, that’s why. I’m tired of running. I’m tired of panicking. I’m tapped out. You’ve got Matty, and she really likes you. Don’t give that up for anything. When you didn’t leave with us from Green Grove, even with her being angry at you, I could sense she missed you a lot. As for me, I have no one.”
“You have us.”
“I prefer having no one. I lost my family to those things out there. There’s no way I’m going to be part of their next meal. Besides, how ironic would it be that I die by my own bomb?”
“You said, ‘after the detonator failed,’ what about the detonator?”
“Fake.” He shifted in his seat. “It was a real detonator, just not a working detonator.”
“You’re just as crazy as Ranger. We have a horde of zombies knocking at the door, a bomb we need to set off, an escape plan that I have no idea how we’re going to execute and you’re thinking of doing yourself? Who are you?”
“We’re wasting time.” Wildside got on his knees. “You have to help me to that white building.”
“Not a chance. I’m not going to help kill you.”
“Listen to me.” He grabbed Randy by the shirt. “If you don’t help me, everyone will die. Do you get that? You, Ranger, Jon, Matty. Dead.” he let him go. “Now, get me to that white building.”
“Stubborn bastard.” Randy muttered, wrapping Wildside’s left arm around his neck and pulling him tight. “Do you think you can hop?”
“I can hop.”
“Good. I’m going to go fast. Try to keep up.”
“Don’t you worry about me.”
Randy glanced over his shoulder then to the path ahead. They had twenty feet to go before they reached safety. His thoughts drifted on the sniper as he ran a countdown in his mind. Miss again, the phrase floated through his mind without end, miss again.
And they took off running as fast as they could. Randy with his sprint and Wildside with his hop.
Another spit of gunfire erupted. The bullet landed somewhere but the boys kept their eyes ahead without stopping until they hit the building.
They made it. They were safe.
With their backs against the wall they let off laughter. The chuckles came as a welcomed release valve easing the pressure.
In slow motion, Wildside turned to Randy and stopped laughing. “Randy.” He said. “You’re bleeding.”
Chapter 27
After Matty had retrieved her gun from the processing area inside the North Administration Building, she and Ranger scampered through the halls. “Jon?” they cried out in unison. “Jon?” but the air remained still. Everyone had vanished. The zombie outbreak had made them flee for their lives.
“We’ve got to find him.” Matty said.
“We will.” Ranger stopped, clasped his hands together around his mouth and called “Jon?” again, the silence answered.
They jogged deeper into the building where the administrative offices lay. The officials had left the doors open, running away in a panic. One more time they shouted for him. “Jon? Are you here? Where are you?”
“Listen.” Matty placed her hand on Ranger’s chest and a shushing finger on her mouth.
Ranger scanned the well-lit office area.
“Can you hear it?”
“Yeah,” he gazed toward the walls. “It’s coming from the vent.”
They dropped to their knees to the vent below.
“Where are you?” Ranger shouted through the grate.
“I’m in a room around the back of the building.” Jon’s distant voice said.
“What did he say?” Ranger asked.
“He’s in the back of the building.” Matty had her eyes shut. “How do we get there?” she hollered into the vent.
“Second floor stairs.” Jon’s voice floated through the pipes.
“The second floor.” This time Ranger heard it too.
They jumped to their feet and scuttled.
As Ranger and Matty made their way back through the area, Wildside untied the belt around his ankle and wrapped it around Randy’s arm. “This should stop the bleeding.” He tugged it hard, above the wound, below the shoulder.
Randy squeezed his eyes shut. “So this is what it feels like getting shot.”
“Shut up. I need you. Snap out of it.” Wildside smacked him. “You’ve got to get me to that bomb. Are you listening to me? Get up.” He grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him straight. “I said, get up!”
“I’m good.” Randy batted his eyes several times, washing the pain away. “I’m good.”
“Good. Now, haul me over.”
While Randy wrapped Wildside’s arm over his neck and led him through a lawn, several trees, walkways and more trees, the eaters at the Williams Auditorium fed on the dead bodies of the soldiers they’d conquered. The rest of the undead ran amok, seeking fresh meat to satiate the bloodlust boiling deep within their guts.
That’s when the twin helicopters appeared. They hovered a few feet from the top of the temple’s towers. Their silent posture in the sky shook the flesh-grinders to shriek their dismay at the sight. But the floating arsenal wasn’t there to appease the mass of maggot chewers. They came for another purpose.
Somehow, some of the zombies knew this, standing upright, looking into the sky. They disappeared from the ranks to scale the walls of the temple. Others limped as far away as they could, hiding from the flying nuisance.
From the bottom of the bellies of the steel beasts, the turrets swung into position.
Those that remained below kept feeding on the dead. As if it all happened in slow motion, the first bullet crashed into one of the eaters’ skulls, spewing green guck over the ground. Another zombie fell bleeding from the neck and eye. Then another. The bullets rained on the crowd without relent. The pathways flooded with green.
In the meantime, Ranger and Matty had made their way through the offices and climbed the second floor stairwell. At the top, they barreled through the fire exit and slipped into a book-filled space.
“Not another library.” Matty said, remembering the incident with Jon and the zombies at the Temple City Public Library.
“What’s the matter, you don’t like books?”
“I don’t like things chasing me through a row of books.”
As they dashed from one end of the area to the other, Ranger grabbed a magazine, rolled it into a tube, and stuffed it into his back pocket.
“What’s that for, light reading for the trip home?” Matty asked.
“I like gardens. One day I might plant one out back of the silo.”
“You’re one strange dude, Ranger Martin.”
They stopped in the middle of the library. Ranger yelled, “Jon? Where are you?”
“I’m in here.”
“Where?”
“In the room behind the book shelf.”
Matty tugged on Ranger�
��s shirtsleeve to the sidewall near the rear.
“Get me out!”
“He can hear you.” Ranger said, gazing from one side of the bookshelf to the other. He cleared the shelves without discrimination, throwing the books on the floor. He felt for switches or triggers—anything that would open a secret passage to the room.
“Ranger?” Matty called in the middle of his fracas. “Ranger?”
He stopped almost about to rip the shelves from the walls. “What?”
“There’s a door over here.” She pointed with a smile.
It never dawned on Ranger a visible entrance could have existed. He jogged to it, then tugged at it. The metal door did not open. As if it could hold them back. Ranger moved to the sidewall of the door, the empty area from the bookshelf he had dismembered, and pounded on the wall with his shoulder. Two hits is all it took. He struck a hole through the first layer of drywall. Then, with his foot, he crashed through the room on the other side. He removed his leg, slipped his arm through the holes, and unlocked the door from the other side.
Matty opened the door and ran in.
Jon sat strapped in a chair with his shirtsleeve rolled above his elbow.
“Are you okay?” Matty asked.
“Get me out of here.” He squirmed. “They were going to drug me with an injection from that bottle of sodium thiopental on the counter. They called it truth serum. That’s when hell knocked on the door. I said to them, the devil was coming for them.”
Sauntering in, Ranger had heard the last part of Jon’s sentence. “You called me Satan to those good people?”
When Matty smiled, Randy and Wildside arrived at the South Administration Building. A chain-linked fence greeted them. It surrounded the building. Behind it, the hitch and the covered bomb sat to the side, waiting. Whatever guards had occupied the building had scrambled to join the unrest at the auditorium, locking the fence.
