I shrugged. Faisal picked up the pace and started toward the gloomy staircase. The sound of windows shuttering reverberated throughout the house, followed by a thud of doors closing at once. Faisal stopped on the first step and looked over his shoulder. He placed his finger on his lips for us to go quiet. We tried to locate the source of the sound. We had no idea what was awaiting us, but that didn't sway our determination to make it up to those weapons.
"There might be someone up there," Faisal whispered.
"Or zombies," Deema said.
"They might be still alive," Rakan said.
"Or they might be still dead," May replied.
"Orighty," I said. Malak and I exchanged glances. We had nothing to add. I thought our dream S.W.A.T. team had covered all the basics.
"It's the army," Faisal said loud and firmly, "if there is anyone up there or in need of assistance, please make yourself known." Faisal continued up the stairs "Hello." His voice resonated in the darkness.
"We're like walking cows with bells in a burger factory," I said. Great, now I’m hungry.
"That's one way to put it," Malak said. If there was a zombie anywhere under the roof of this place, it now knew of our presence.
We followed Faisal up, an uncanny breeze blew through. Something didn’t feel right. Comfort slowly drifted away the deeper we descended into the house. A shadow flicked in the corner of my vision, and I turned around. Nothing. There's nothing there, I told myself. I'm being paranoid. I calmed myself by squeezing my phone harder and proceeded up the stairs that dropped us off on the second floor. A broad, long hallway with dark red flooring greeted us, with windows lined up all the way to the end of the hall on one side. On the opposite side, closed doors stood still side by side.
"If memory serves me correctly, the stairs leading to the third floor is at the end of this hallway," Rakan said, stepping ahead with speed and grace, everything about him begged for admiration. He made me a touch more at ease. Faisal fell back as we carried on. Portraits hung between the closed doors, mostly of a little boy with brown hair and wide, brown eyes. He was dressed in a formal thoab and shumag in the majority of his pictures. In some, he wasn't alone. A young man stood next to him. He looked like he was in his early twenties, wearing an army uniform. I think it was Rayan. The older brother, the guys’ friend. A picture of a little baby girl stood out—she had to be seven or eight months. Only one picture of her. Shuffling footstep patters came from the floor above, then went flat. There was enough time for me to catch my breath before the windows forcefully slammed shut and broke the short silence. May let out a scream. A dramatic change in the air current blew the windows in the hallway open again. I took a step back faster than I could register what was happening.
"It's just the wind," Rakan explained as he turned around and repeated. "It's just the wind"
The curtains flapped hard from the air. My mouth went dry as the halls came to life with the sound of wind whistling. I squeezed my hand harder around the phone, my other hand pressing on the pocket where the gun rested. It was all I could do not to scream and pull everyone there and run back down toward the front door. I looked at the girls; they were as startled as I was. May stood with her jaw dropped and her amber eyes blazing. Breathing intensified.
"The wind is scary," I said with a smirk, moving my hand from my pocket and placing it on my chest, feeling the vibration of my pulse. Rakan nodded. We advanced cautiously to the end of the hall, passing the possessed windows. The end of the hall came to an ominous corner. Rakan walked around, Malak followed. The curve to the left made it hard to see what was around the other corner. I followed them. A staircase appeared.
"How much do we really need those weapons?" May asked, walking behind me.
"We're halfway there," I said and felt a relief pass through me.
We took the stairs, bringing us to another long hallway with the exact same layout. Windows on one side and doors on the other. However, this floor had a solid metal door at the end of the hallway. The light from our phones bounced back from the door. The building’s labyrinth structure, apart from the living room, had a school or hospital vibe.
"It’s the last door," Rakan said. “The metal one.”
We dawdled slowly toward it.
"I hope the windows are friendly on this floor," I said, my eyes on the door.
We made it to the metal door, with only the sounds of our footsteps behind us. The door was flat with a stainless-steel polished surface. No handle, nothing to get a grip on. Rakan placed his hand on the door and pushed it gently outward. It squeaked open. Faisal walked up and pushed the door completely open.
The hair on my neck stood still, the smell of decomposing flesh kicked back then slowly replaced by an overwhelming sensation that I was being watched as a bleak silhouette manifested right in front of my eyes. The silhouette was moving.
"Step back," Rakan said and moved back a step. “There’s something in here.”
Chapter 29
All phones directed at Rakan at once. The room glimmered brightly, casting light beyond him to a figure in the background, revealing a lifeless body hanging from the ceiling fan. The body swung lightly, hanging over an office table. Faisal stepped in without hesitation, aiming his gun at the decaying corpse. Rakan shuffled closer a few steps behind him. I slowly followed; a rotten stench physically pushed me a step back. My eyes locked on the body. I tried to breathe only through my mouth, but the sour odor rinsed down my throat. I resisted the urge to puke, eyes still on the body, gawking at it and skipping every other blink. The zombie’s eyes were sealed shut, black liquid oozing down its graying cheeks. I lowered the light, scanning the rest of the body. The rope wrapped around the neck and up the fan, squeaking as the barefooted zombie swayed and dangled before us.
“It’s moving,” May said.
I pointed the light back up. A gasp escaped my mouth before I could hold it. The zombie’s eyes were open, staring into the abyss. I frowned at the blank, expressionless face, not blinking. A shiver passed through me; a rush ran parallel to it. The tragic experience that the man had to have undergone that led him to hang himself hovered over us. The phone trembled in my hand. Rakan stood next to me, looking at the zombie for only a few seconds before stepping in front of me and surveying the place. I turned back, checking on the girls. They stood, not verbally saying anything, but screams glared through their pale faces loud and clear. I turned my attention to the now kicking body. I was not an expert on anything dead, but the corpse seemed like it had been there for a while. Days, weeks? Who was this? Was it the father? The brother? An uncle?
“I wish they could talk and give us answers,” Malak said, “like what happened here?”
“It’s the dad,” Rakan said, walking up to the door behind us, double-checking the locks.
“You recognize him?” Malak asked.
“The uniform.” Rakan locked his eyes on the sand-colored jumpsuit on the zombie. The features were too disfigured to be identified.
“Zombies haven't lost the ability to speak,” Deema muttered.
“So far, none of them commented on the situation at hand,” I said, forcing myself to look away from the zombie.
“Zombies can’t speak,” May said, reminding us of what she thought was obviously common knowledge.
“Yes they can. They lost the ability of speech, but not the ability to speak, which are two different things,” Deema said.
I tried to understand what she was trying to say but found myself lost yet again in her scientific rant. But just me being me, I hated asking anyone what they meant and admitting that I didn’t get it.
“What?” Malak asked. Oh good. I didn't have to ask.
“From my observation, the zombies are still physically capable of producing sounds, like the grunting and moaning, which suggests that they can speak. But, they can't form words, which would indicate damage or decay of the areas in the brain which allows the process and comprehension of words,” Deema said.
&nbs
p; “Uh, right,” I said. “I didn’t take Zombie 101.”
“We saw all this in the brain documentary we watched together.” Deema glared at me.
A bright light flashed, temporarily blinding our vision. The light was too bright, forcing our eyes shut. I threw my hands over my face.
“Sorry, sorry,” Faisal repeated, his voice bouncing around in the brightness.
“What is?” May asked and was interrupted by Faisal saying, “I turned on the lights.”
I blinked repetitively, allowing my sight to adjust and blink away the blurry figures around me. Shaky images became clearer, and I was able to make out who was who and what was what.
“Why didn't you warn us before you blinded us?” Malak asked.
“The electricity works?” I asked, the words coming out in a higher pitch than I intended. “Why didn't anyone try this before?”
“I didn't think it would,” Faisal said. We nodded, assuming as much.
“The backup power grids are still up,” Rakan said.
When I was able to keep my eyes open for a few seconds without squinting, I turned off the flashlight from my phone and tucked it away. This was good. We could conserve what was left of the battery, so when my parents called they would be able to get through to us. I cased my surroundings now with a clear view. I was standing in the center of an office. I walked to the closest table and ran my index finger over the dusty surface, pens, paper clips, green files. My gaze fell on a beautiful crown-shaped paperweight, placed over a stack of papers. I picked it up, feeling the weight of it in my hand. I flipped it over and examined it. On the bottom, the words “Better the devil you know,” was engraved. Odd. Maybe it was some kind of collectible. I returned it back to its place.
“This way,” Rakan said, already halfway across the office.
We followed him to the corner of the office to a wooden door. The door was the same color as the walls, with a matching colored handle. A light brown. The incognito door stood next to an empty bookshelf. Rakan opened the door. Faisal stood next to him in full alert. They walked in. The door opened to a narrow dark corridor, and at the end of the corridor stood a reinforced gray door that was cracked open with light escaping from it.
“That’s it,” Rakan said in a whisper.
Faisal lifted one hand and signaled Rakan. I wasn't sure what the signals meant, but they were agreeing on some kind of strategy. Both focused and tense, Rakan took in a breath then pushed the door open while Faisal jumped in with his gun aiming forward. He passed the red doorframe, rotating his upper body at a 180-degree angle while his lower body pivoted to the ground. “Clear,” he said.
“Stay here. I need to check the place to make sure nothing is lurking in there,” Rakan addressed us but was looking at me. Then he slipped in a quick glance at Malak. I nodded. He disappeared into the room. Random sounds of things being shuffled arose from behind the gray door with the red frame. Then silenced by a loud thud.
Rakan popped his head out, with a smirk on his face. “Ladies, Faisal tripped on the carpet, so watch your step when coming in. Other than that, it's secure.” His head disappeared into the hidden room once more.
“Well, let’s go get geared up,” I said and was the first to walk in. My foot touched a soft surface, an off-white shaggy carpet, fluffy and clean. The room was a square shape and strongly lit, with three walls displaying firearm weapons in a vintage wooden cabinet behind glass doors. The fourth wall was a mahogany red, with a brown leather sofa in the left corner and a table with a computer in the center, next to the table stood a big black vault. And in the right corner next to the vault there was a charcoal-gray refrigerator with glass doors, full of water bottles. I eyed the water.
“His collection grew since the last time I saw it,” Rakan said, taking off his jacket and revealing his fitted shirt underneath. He drew near one of the glass doors and tried to open it. He pulled it sideways and jerked hard. The glass doors protested with a click.
“Locked?” Faisal asked.
“Yes.” Rakan stared at the locks on the glass doors, scratching his chin.
Faisal turned the gun in his hand and used the butt to try to break the glass door. One hit, and the door behind us slammed closed and everything went dark. A siren screamed in the background. In the center of the ceiling, a red light flashed on and off in sync with the sirens.
“What did you do?” May screamed, the light flashing on her face one second and gone the next.
“It must be a security system,” Rakan said, “we set off the motion sensors or vibration sensors.”
Malak ran back to the door, her movements only visible when the flash was on like a ghost disappearing and appearing in another location. She tried to open the door. “It’s locked!” she screamed.
A green light flashed from the table. “What is that?” I asked. We hovered around the flashing screen. The screen blinked “ENTER PASSCODE.”
“May, can you override this?” I asked.
May pulled the chair out and sat behind the screen. “I’ve never seen this kind of system before.”
“Can you do it?” I asked.
“I can try.” She pulled the keyboard out and started typing, her eyes narrowed on the screen. “We are alone in here, right?”
“As far as we know,” I said, looking around. “We need to shut that siren up.”
“If zombies are attracted to sound, this is not good,” Malak said, getting close to me.
Sounds of glass shattering joined the siren. We turned around to see Faisal breaking more doors.
“What are you doing?” Malak asked, walking up to him. “Stop.”
“The siren has already been triggered,” Faisal said, taking off his top and wrapping it around his fist. “At least this way we’ll be prepared.” He punched another glass door open.
Malak looked at me with pursed lips, sighed, then joined Faisal breaking more glass.
“Sara,” May said, her eyes widening, “this is not good.”
A green screen window popped up, followed by a female-voice speaking. “Error. Error. If you fail to provide the passcode the system will go on lockdown. Should you require further assistance, standby for one of our agents to confirm your information.” Her voice rattled every corner of the room.
“I don't like this.” May paused, sweat trickling from her forehead. She patted her palms on her thighs as if she was drying them.
“You can do this, May,” I said over the female-voice repeating the same message but somehow slower as if the battery was dying. I placed my hand on May’s shoulder; she nodded and went on typing. I stepped away and stood next to Rakan. “Is there another way out?”
“That door is our only way out,” Rakan said, his shadow flickering on the wall like an old black-and-white animation, with the siren wailing in the back.
“Error. Error. The system will go on lockdown in ten seconds.” The robot female started counting down. “10.”
“If the system locks, no one is coming for us,” Rakan said.
“9.”
“May, are you close?” I screamed, running next to her.
“8.”
“No, I need more time.” The sweat on her forehead reflected the screen’s glare.
“7.”
“6.”
Everyone froze in their position.
“5.”
“4.”
“I need more time,” May screamed.
“3.”
“2.”
Chapter 30
Advanced Operations Base.
Al-Jubail, Eastern Province
One day earlier
“The target has breached the walls. The target crossed the premises, repeat the safe zone has been compromised,” the captain said, standing in the east tower, overlooking the gates that were now crawling with the dead.
The lieutenant general stood in silence on the other end of the line, listening, thinking. He pressed his lips together. He stood in the west tower, looking over the same g
ate the captain viewed from another angle, eyes narrowed on the bodies pushing the gate to its limit.
“Sir, what are our orders?” the captain pleaded, holding his breath.
Nothing but dead silence transmitted.
“Sir.” The word echoed and snapped the lieutenant general out of his trance.
“Full attack. Hit them with all we got,” the lieutenant general ordered.
“But—” The word hung in the air.
“Full attack,” the lieutenant general hissed, clenching his hand in a fist.
“Copy that, over and out,” the captain said and ended the transmutation, peering at the zombies stomping on one another and breaking through what was a safe zone. This is a suicide mission. We are sending our men to a certain death. He doubted that the ground combat force would be capable of holding off a zombie assault for too long. And that was only one aspect of the issue at hand. The truth was, he wasn't sure how his men would handle the situation and how it would affect them on a psychological level. His men know how to survive, fight, they were trained to almost perfection in how to use a gun, a sword, and hand combat. They knew how to end their enemy’s lives. But what they didn't know, was how to kill each other. He shook his head in disapproval and carried out the command he received, not disobeying a direct order.
◆◆◆
“They will destroy us, Abdullah,” a guy standing next to the lieutenant general said. “It won’t take them long till they put our men down.”
“I am aware of that,” Lieutenant General Abdullah said, knowing that the only location capable of sheltering survivors long term was Riyadh. The rest were expected to be overrun within the first week of the invasion. All the safe zones were temporary, to be relocated to the main headquarters in Riyadh. This was merely a futile exercise to measure the attacker’s strength and speed to determine the duration needed to overtake a facility and also to distract them long enough so he could get away. “What happened with Mission Oryx?”
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