“We gotta get out of here!” Glenn demanded.
Emily approached the side window, looking out over the sea of zombies pouring in from side streets, all heading towards the hotel. “He’s right,” she agreed, turning back to them. “We gotta go, Ernest.”
The man in question didn’t answer, simply staring at the wall, slack jawed, his rifle limp in his hands.
“Snap out of it, city boy,” Glenn barked, striding over. “We need you.”
Ernest simply pointed to the wall, and the others turned to look, their eyes widening in realization. Scrawled across the wall in tall red letters read: Now I will inflict the pain that you inflicted on me.
“That son of a bitch!” Glenn roared. “I’m gonna kill him!”
Emily grabbed his arm to calm him down. “We gotta live first, so let’s go!”
Ernest quickly reloaded his gun to the max as they bustled out into the hallway. They rushed down the stairwell, and Glenn grabbed the last siren box on the way and smashed it beneath his boot with a scream of anger.
With the silence came a new terrifying sound—moaning.
“Light,” Ernest croaked. “I need light!”
Glenn fumbled with his flashlight, but finally managed to get it out. He shone it down to the next landing, and there were a few zombies on it. Without hesitating, Ernest fired three shots, taking them down efficiently.
He darted down the flight, the other two following swiftly. When he reached the next door, a zombie emerged, and he fired, catching it in the head.
“Door!” he cried, and Glenn put all his weight against it, shoving it closed hard.
Ernest dragged the corpse out of the way so it could shut fully, snapping yet another pencil that had propped it open a tiny enough bit that the zombies had been able to push through.
“Next floor, let’s go,” he said, and led them down further, kicking closed the second floor door from its makeshift pencil stop, thankful that nothing was coming out of it.
When they reached the first floor, he cracked the door slightly to survey the scene. His heart skipped a beat and he backed out, closing the door as quietly as he could.
“We’re not going that way,” he murmured, blinking away the image of the lobby filling with zombies.
“Second floor?” Emily suggested. “Maybe there’s a fire escape.”
Glenn nodded. “We can only hope.”
Ernest led them back up to the second floor, and the taller man opened it up so the city boy could burst through first. He noticed movement in the dim light halfway down the hallway, so he popped off several rounds to take them out.
Glenn shone the flashlight, revealing a few more pallid dead faces staggering towards them, and Ernest quickly dispatched them. Glenn aimed the light towards the wall which had a FIRE EXIT sign with an arrow pointing to the left.
“Got it!” he hissed. “Down on the left!”
Ernest headed towards it, rifle at the ready, coming around the corner ready to fire. When he saw it was clear, he kept going and reached the window at the end of the hall, shoving it open.
His heart sank at the sight of the intact fire escape, leading straight down into a veritable horde of zombies. Glenn let out a stream of obscenities, turning away from the window. Emily stepped up, calmly looking around for some sort of solution.
“Guessing you didn’t bring a thousand rounds?” she asked wryly.
Ernest sighed. “No, I’m afraid I left the bullet backpack at home.”
“How many you got left?” She cocked her head.
He checked his pouch, rummaging around a bit and hearing a fair amount of brass smacking against itself. “A hundred?” he replied. “Hundred and twenty? Not enough to get us through that.” He motioned to the groaning rotted sea outside.
Emily looked down the side of the building, noting a fenced-in area on the corner. Inside were a few large rolling dumpsters. “What do you think about those?” she asked, pointing to them.
He looked, and then a sly smile grew on his face. “I think you’re a genius.”
Glenn turned towards them, scowling at the sight of his companions grinning like idiots. “What in the hell did I miss?” he demanded, throwing his hands up.
“Don’t worry hillbilly,” Ernest quipped, “you wouldn’t have thought of it anyway.” He patted the taller man on the chest as he walked by. “Come on, I’m gonna need that light.”
Glenn was still confused, but flicked on the light and followed his companions, holding it high. They reached the room at the end of the hall, and Ernest tried the knob, but it was locked.
“All right, you’re up,” he said, stepping aside.
Glenn shook his head as he approached the door. “Emily, you might have to get cozy with his beanpole so he starts eating proper,” he drawled as he took a strong stance. “Need to put some weight on those bones.”
She blushed slightly, a small smile threatening her face, and stepped away from the door. Glenn gave it a forceful straight kick, which sent it flying inwards off of the latch.
Ernest rushed in, and quickly cleared the room before heading for the window. He opened it up and looked straight down at the two dumpsters about eight feet below them. He glanced over at the other side of the fence, the bulk of the zombies moving past them, towards the front of the building.
“This is gonna work just fine,” he said, smiling at the sight.
Glenn looked out and down at the dumpsters, and raised an eyebrow at the cheap tarp material on the fences to help keep the garbage out of sight from the outside. “You are outta your fuckin’ mind if you think I can do that.”
“It’s as simple as falling off a bike,” Ernest declared.
His tall friend scowled. “Well, before we go jumping, it might be a good idea to figure out what we’re doin’ after we land.”
Emily peered outside, pointing at a big garage across the street that took up the whole block. “The garage looks like a good option to me,” she suggested. “Get in on this side, and get out the others.”
“And how are we getting in?” Glenn asked, crossing his arms.
“I see a window,” Ernest replied, holding up his gun. “And I got the key.”
The cowboy just shook his head, not thrilled with the idea of jumping out a window.
Ernest reached out and grabbed the taller man’s shoulder. “Look big fella, we need to do this, not just for ourselves, but to warn Susanna and Myles about that asshole.”
Glenn nodded jerkily, the fire back in his eyes at the mention of Matt. “Geronimo it is, then,” he said, and approached the window. He stuck his legs out first, and turned around, hanging by his hands and dropping down as gently as he could into the trash bin below. He landed on his back, onto something squishy that squirted some gross unknown garbage water all over his pants. He gagged a little, flipping over to scramble out of the bin. As he hit the asphalt, he motioned for Emily to come down after him.
“Just hang onto my arm, and I’ll lower you down,” Ernest said, and held out his hand.
She nodded, taking it and slipping out the window. He lowered her as far as he could, and then she looked down to see Glenn touching her feet. She let go, and he caught her around the waist as she went down.
Ernest climbed out next, dangling from the window before leaping into the dumpster, landing on his feet in the trash. He vaulted out almost completely spotless, and Glenn glowered at him, still carrying the scent of the nasty perfume de garbage. Ernest simply smiled and winked at him, swiping his hands together.
They crept quietly to the gate, seeing about two dozen zombies in their direct path to the garage. Ernest motioned to the others, pointing to the dumpster and then miming pushing it, and they nodded and headed behind the large bin.
He quietly lifted the latch on the fence, wincing as it squeaked a little. He peeked through a flap in the tarp that one of the nearby ghouls was attracted by the noise, and turned to walk towards them.
“Now!” he hissed, and shoved
the gate outwards, hitting the zombie and knocking it clear out of the way.
Glenn and Emily shoved the dumpster as hard as they could, sending it rolling at a pretty good rate. It smacked into creatures and knocked them over on its travels across the street. Ernest rushed out with his gun up, firing rapidly into a few corpses that weren’t in the bin’s path. He darted forward with his gun in firing position, unloading several rounds into the window he’d targeted, shattering it.
“Get inside!” he cried, motioning for the others. He continued firing, picking off targets close to his companions as they ran to safety.
Glenn reached the window first, quickly breaking away the excess glass at the bottom so he could dive inside unscathed. He leapt to his feet and did a quick sweep, relieved to find that the garage was empty.
“It’s clear!” he called, and lashed out to catch Emily as she hopped headfirst through the window. He set her on her feet and she nodded her thanks, turning to the open hole.
“Come on!” she yelled to Ernest, who was firing away as he backed towards the window. When he reached a few feet away, he dove inside, landing hard on the ground just as the mass of rotted flesh reached where he’d been standing.
Emily and Glenn pulled their handguns and fired several times, hitting a few creatures in the head, the corpses slumping and blocking the window.
“Are you okay?” Emily asked as she helped Ernest up from the ground.
He grinned as he stood up. “I can officially check off dumpster diving from my bucket list.”
“You did good,” she said, patting him on the shoulder.
Ernest nodded and watched as Glenn headed over to the window, adjusting dead limbs to make sure it was plugged up. “How we looking, hillbilly?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t recommend that we set up a permanent residence here,” the cowboy replied, “but it’ll give us a minute to catch our breath.”
Ernest looked around the garage, noting several older cars parked about. “Good, that’ll give us time to check these out,” he said, waving his hand at the vehicles. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky and they’re just in here for a tune up.”
CHAPTER SIX
Myles drove Susanna and the doctor up the driveway of the Mansfield property. They bumped around a little on the dirt road, sending the older man in the back seat flailing about.
“Sorry about that, doc,” Myles apologized to the balding doctor.
He righted himself in his seat and smiled, shaking his head. “No worries,” he assured the younger man. “Just takes me back to my horse riding medical days.”
“Horse riding medical days?” Susanna gaped.
The doctor nodded. “Treated a lot of farm hands over the years, and you know what the one thing most of them have in common is?”
“What’s that?” she asked.
His eyes twinkled. “They don’t seem to get hurt near places with easy vehicle access.”
The young couple chuckled as they pulled up to the house. Myles shook his head and turned off the car, opening his door.
“Close the doors,” Susanna said suddenly, and the doctor froze, his half open as well.
“What?” Myles asked, not complying.
“Get in and close the doors!” she demanded.
They finally followed her instructions, slamming their doors shut and staring at her curiously.
“What’s going on?” Myles asked.
She pointed through the windshield. “Look at the front door.”
They did so, and noticed that it was wide open. This would be a normal thing on a farm in the summer, but downright odd in the winter, especially without there being any power to heat the place.
“That’s…” the doctor trailed off. “That’s a bit out of the ordinary.”
Susanna poked her fiancé in the arm. “Honk the horn,” she instructed.
Myles complied, laying on the horn for a solid few seconds. They waited, but nothing happened.
“You got your gun handy?” he asked.
Susanna cocked her handgun. “Yep.”
“Yep,” the doctor added, holding up his own gun. When the young couple stared at him, he shrugged. “What? I’m supposed to do no harm at my job. Technically, I haven’t clocked in yet.”
Myles chuckled, and then shook his head. “Still, you stay here,” he said firmly. “You’re way more valuable to the community than anyone else, unless someone is going to med school and not telling anyone.”
“Lock the doors, keep your gun handy,” Susanna instructed. “And if anybody you don’t recognize comes up, don’t hesitate to shoot them.”
The older man nodded firmly, and as they got out of the car, he hurried into the front seat.
Myles and Susanna moved slowly towards the house, handguns at the ready. They made sure to keep a close eye on the corners of the exterior, in case someone or something tried to get the jump on them. As they got to the door, they backed up to either side of the entrance, sharing a glance.
After a nod, they burst in through the open door, quickly clearing the front lobby and the room to the right.
Myles took the lead, moving down the hall, but Susanna grabbed his shoulder to stop him. He startled, but she pointed down at the ground. He noticed the large pool of blood he’d almost stepped in, with tracks coming out of it that ran straight to the back on the hardwood floor.
He leaned in and whispered, “I’m going to check the upstairs.” He inclined his head to the staircase. “Stay here.”
“We go together,” she hissed, shaking her head vigorously.
“You’re a better shot than I am,” he whispered back. “If I come running down those stairs, I trust you to take out whatever is chasing me.”
She bit her lip. She didn’t want him to go. But she knew he was right, and it was the smarter play. Plus, he’d just admitted she was the better shooter. Declarations of that magnitude came along so infrequently in long term relationships. She nodded jerkily.
Myles raised his gun, pointing to the landing as he walked carefully up, step by step. When he got to the top, he looked down the hallway. There were two bedrooms on either side of the hall, both doors closed. At the far end was the bedroom that they’d taken Matt in to rest not even a half hour ago.
He slipped a little, and then clenched his jaw at the sight of the fresh blood on the floor in the middle of the hallway. He took a deep breath and regained his footing before continuing his careful walk. He steeled himself to enter the bedroom, unsure he wanted to know what he would find.
He leapt into the far corner of the hallway, aiming at the bed, and then his gun arm fell, bile rising in his throat.
Matt was gone, but in his place was Felix, his throat slit, eyes glassy and dead. Myles shook as he approached, retching, and pressed two fingers against his sticky throat even though he knew in his gut it was useless. No pulse.
He shook his head, trying to blink away the image of Felix’ horrified dead face, and left the bedroom. He quickly checked the other two rooms, finding them empty and undisturbed. As he exited the final room, he walked at a deliberate pace to the stairs. He held up his hand to let his fiancee know he was okay as he descended.
He leaned over when he reached the bottom and whispered, “Felix is dead. Matt is gone.”
Susanna blinked at him in shock, swallowing hard, but nodded jerkily, focusing on their task. She motioned towards the hall where the crimson footprints led. They paused at the next two rooms, the living room and a study, both of which showed no signs of struggle.
One of the boards creaked as they moved, causing the young couple to freeze for a moment. There was a soft thud from the pantry, and they both hurried into the kitchen. Their quickened pace startled the pantry dweller, causing more noise to come from within.
“You in the pantry, come out now!” Myles demanded, pointing his gun at the door. It didn’t open. “Last chance!” he called.
He nodded to Susanna, and she grabbed the handle, waiting for him to nod a
gain before throwing it open.
He moved forward, but immediately held the weapon up in the air, putting out his free hand.
Susanna gaped at him, unsure of what was happening, and then peeked around the door. Two young girls cowered in the corner together, clutching each other with tear-streaked terrified faces.
“Girls!” she blurted, and moved into the doorway, crouching down. “Are you okay?”
The smaller one shook her head and buried it into her sister’s shoulder.
“Are either of you hurt?” Susanna asked.
The older girl hesitated, but then shook her head. “We’re… we’re okay,” she stammered softly.
“Do you know where your parents are?” Susanna asked.
Both girls tensed, and the older one sniffled. “The bad man hurt them,” she said, voice quivering.
Susanna’s heart dropped. “Do you know where they are?”
The little girl pointed towards the back door, and Susanna motioned with her head for Myles to check it out. He walked slowly to the open door, peering out to see the couple laying face down in the yard. He clenched his jaw and then turned back, shaking his head. Susanna schooled her expression into a brave face before turning back to the little girls.
“Do you know where the bad man went?” she asked gently.
The little girl gasped through her sobs. “Him and Miss Ann… walked towards the monster I saw,” she stammered.
Adrenaline pumped through Susanna, but she kept her eyes calm so she wouldn’t scare the girls any more than they already were. “You’re doing very good, honey,” she cooed. “Now, can you point to where you saw the monster?”
The girl hesitated, but pointed to the east before wrapping her arms back around her little sister.
“Okay, thank you, you did good,” Susanna praised gently. “Now, I need you to be brave right now, okay? Can you do that for me?”
The girl swallowed hard and nodded.
“Okay, I need you to come to me and grab on,” she instructed. “I want you to put your heads on my shoulders and close your eyes until I tell you it’s okay to open them. Can you do that?”
Dead America The Third Week (Book 8): Dead America, Bismarck Pt. 2 Page 4