She shakes her head. “This place must be twenty floors, we’d never find them. No, Warren knows what he’s doing. Soon as he hears those screams he’ll know to head for the door. You got a weapon for me?”
“Shit, sorry, I think we left it downstairs.” I hold out my Beretta. “You want this back?”
“Uh uh, you keep it,” she replies. “I’ll make do.” She turns to the wall and pulls a fire extinguisher from its bracket, then scans the emergency exit map beside it. “That’s where you were headed?” She juts her chin towards the fire escape at the end of the hall. I nod. “No good. I got a look at the fire escape on the way in, and it leads right back to the front of the building. No...” She looks back at the map and points to an exit on the other side of the building. “This one leads across to the parking garage next door. Maybe it’s still in one piece.”
I look back with dread at the way I came. It leads back towards the lobby staircase. Worse, it’s the direction from which the screams came just a moment ago. I’d rather take my chances climbing down to the infected swarms at the front of the building than head back that way.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Vee. I’ll lead the way but watch my back, OK?” I set off along the hallway at a slow jog, and moments later my fears are confirmed. Two men appear on the staircase from above, one running and one tumbling head over heels. The fallen man sprawls on the floor for a moment before regaining his footing, and he continues down towards the lobby just moments before a group of infected race down in pursuit. Vee and I press our backs against the door of the closest room, forcing ourselves into a hiding space just a few inches deep, but the infected don’t seem to notice us.
We continue on after a few deep breaths, and as we reach the top of the staircase I risk a look down into the lobby. The two men are nowhere to be seen, but we hear the echo of snarls and screams reverberate across the marble and up the stairs. Something tells me down isn’t a good option. Ahead seems clear enough, though, and the fire escape is close. I just pray it’s passable. Apart from a few rooms leading off the hallway there would be no escape if we found ourselves trapped down there.
Vee takes the lead, sensing my hesitation, and I quickly follow when I realize I’m out in the open, visible to anyone who might come down the stairs right now. I run to catch up and regain safety in numbers, and I reach her just as she presses her shoulder against the fire escape and pushes open the door.
I catch hold of her just in time, grabbing at the back of her collar as she loses her footing and starts to tumble out the door. She loses her grip on the fire extinguisher, and it falls through the air until it clangs on the asphalt two floors below. The noise attracts a group of infected who look up and begin to snarl and growl at the two of us far above their reach.
The fire escape is gone, sheared away where it should meet the wall. All that’s left is the bolts that used to connect it, but beyond them blackened, jagged steel is the only evidence that the staircase was welded until the steel came free.
“Shit!” Vee yells, pulling herself back in through the door. “Fucking idiots could have just blocked it at ground level.”
The fire escape used to run down to the narrow alley between the hotel and the parking structure next door, and from the look of the sheared steel on the opposite wall about ten feet away from us it looks like it also served as a walkway connecting the two buildings. Just a few steps or a single leap away, tantalizingly close, the entrance to the garage looks like a wide open mouth. It’s a little below us, maybe a couple of feet lower than the hallway, and it looks like we might just be able to make it.
“You think you can make that jump?” Vee asks, already taking a few steps back.
“Ummm... I don’t know. Maybe. I’m... shit, I’m not sure.”
She pushes me gently aside. “Well, it’s either that way or back out the front door, and I don’t wanna get eaten today. Just follow my lead, OK? If I can make it so can you.” She takes a couple of deep breaths, swings her arms back and forth and breaks into a run towards the door. I barely dare to watch, but I force myself. She leaps from the very edge, thrusting both arms forward as soon as she leaves the ground.
For a moment it looks as if she’ll fall far short. I almost yell out, as if there’s anything I could possibly do to save her if she missed, but before I can open my mouth her feet connect with the concrete on the other side. She falls forward into a graceful roll, and before I know it she’s back on her feet and breathing easy.
“Come on, your turn,” she says, beckoning me forward. I feel like my feet are cemented to the ground, but when I hear another scream echo down the hallway behind me I know there’s only one real option. I take a few paces back, drop into a runner’s starting position and, after a few more seconds of painful indecision, launch myself off the block towards the edge.
“Tom!” I hear the yell from behind me just as my feet are about to leave the ground. It’s too late to pull back, and my jump loses power as my mind yells at me to stop and turn. I sail through the air but even before I’m halfway across the chasm it’s clear I won’t make it all the way.
My ribs bash against the concrete on the other side, knocking the wind out of me, and I start to slip backwards as my weight pulls me over the edge. I scrabble at the ground but there’s nothing to grab hold of, and my heart lifts to my throat as I feel myself tip over the edge.
I’m barely even aware of Vee grabbing me by the arm. I don’t know what’s going on, but I feel my fall arrested just enough that I can scrape my feet against the wall and regain some purchase. I open my eyes, look up and see Vee straining against my weight, her small frame struggling to hold me steady, and from unknown reserves of energy I kick myself up against the wall until I feel the ridge of my aching ribs scrape across the edge and move my weight onto solid ground. I turn and roll, desperately moving until finally I feel the ground beneath my feet.
“Warren, get down here!” I hear Vee yell. I look back at the hotel and see him standing at the open doorway that now seems impossibly distant. It takes me a moment to realize it was Warren yelling my name that distracted me at the crucial moment.
I have no idea how we both made it across, and I don’t dare take a breath as Warren takes just a few short steps back, sprints forward and athletically leaps across the gap. He lands a solid two feet into the garage, as if the gap was nothing but an easy step.
“Where’s Bishop?” I ask, struggling to catch my breath. Warren frowns and looks down at me.
“Fuck, I thought he was with you. How did you lose track of him?”
I feel the anger rise. “I didn’t fucking lose track of him. I thought the two of you had left me!”
“OK, OK, no point in us bouncing each other off the walls,” Warren replies, trying to calm us both. “What are we gonna do? We can’t just leave him in there. He’s not even armed.”
I look back at the door we jumped from. There’s no way any of us could ever make it back. It’s a good two feet higher than us, and it’d take a superhuman effort to reach it without falling. Besides that, even if we could leap over and grab the frame before falling the wall is covered in jagged steel from the destroyed fire escape. We’d be stabbed for sure.
It’s a few seconds before I register the sound of the footsteps. Loud, heavy clomps bouncing off the walls of the alleyway like a slow drumbeat, followed soon enough by deep, panting breaths.
Bishop appears at the door on the other side of the alley, and he scans around for a moment before he notices us on the other side. Before he speaks a word his eyes catch the long drop to the ground below, and his face turns white. “Oh, fuck,” he sighs, looking like he’s on the edge of tears. “I can’t jump that far, you guys.”
I pull myself to my feet and call out to him across the void. “You can, Bishop. I thought the same thing but I made it.” I don’t mention that I almost didn’t. “It looks further than it is. Just take a good run up and then throw yourself across. Come on, buddy, you have t
o try.”
Bishop’s eyes well with tears, but he seems to trust me. He wipes his eyes and nods. “OK, I’ll try. Just gimme a second to get ready for it, OK?”
The shot comes out of nowhere. We all hear it, but we all look in different directions. Vee and Warren look down into the alleyway and I look behind me back into the garage, but it’s not until we see Bishop that we learn the truth.
The big guy looks down at his chest, at the dirty fatigues he’s been wearing for days. It’s hard to see against the dark camo, but a growing patch of blood spreads across his jacket like a blooming flower.
“Oh,” he says simply, his voice little more than a whisper. He touches his jacket and his hand comes away red before he plants it against the door frame to support himself. His legs tremble for a moment, and without another sound he falls slowly forward and tumbles face first into the alleyway.
In the alley beneath the snarls grow louder as Bishop lands hard on a dumpster, rolls off and tumbles into the middle of the pack. Before we can tell if he’s alive or dead they close in over him, grabbing at his clothes and tugging at his arms and legs. I pray the fall killed him, but as the infected loom over him I hear a weak, desperate whimper. A gap forms between his attackers, and for a moment I see Bishop’s eyes, wide open and terrified. I may be imagining it but he seems to meet my gaze.
I don’t take the time to think. I already know what needs to be done. I take a tight grip on my Beretta, point it down at the alley and squeeze the trigger, putting a lucky shot through Bishop’s cheek. I won’t let him return as one of those things.
For a moment there’s a stunned silence. None of us wants to be the first to speak. We wouldn’t know what to say. We’re just numb. So numb that it occurs to none of us that whoever shot Bishop may still be here.
Almost in slow motion Warren drops to the ground as I watch. His mouth opens wide with shock, and it takes a moment for me to realize he’s taken a hit in the leg. Vee thinks more quickly than me, and before he hits the deck she grabs him and drags him away from the entrance, behind the cover of a parked car.
I look up, and I suddenly feel like I’m in a nightmare I’ve had a dozen times over. The shooter stands above me and across the alleyway, grinning, a pistol in his hand. I watch as he calmly reloads as if he’s completely unconcerned that we pose a threat.
Without any conscious thought at all I lift my hand, point my Beretta at the door and squeeze off shots until the magazine is empty. The man ducks quickly back inside at the first shot, and every one of my bullets buries itself harmlessly in the drywall of the hallway.
My arm drops to my side, and I stare at the empty door. My mind is barely working at half speed, and I don’t even try to resist when Vee grabs me by the collar and drags me behind the car. It doesn’t matter. None of this could possibly be real.
“Fucking wake up, Tom!” she yells, slapping me in the face. “You have to help me with Warren!”
I move as if I’m in a trance. Vee hooks an arm beneath one of Warren’s shoulders and I do the same, pulling him away deeper into the garage as he grits his teeth through the pain. It’s not until we all collapse, exhausted, at the far end of the structure that I begin to wake up.
“That fucking asshole, I’m gonna take his balls!” Vee exclaims, punching a car door.
Warren pushes himself painfully up until he’s sitting up against the side of the car. He grabs at his trouser leg and tears it to the knee, inspecting the wound. He feels the back of his calf and sighs. “Through and through, I’ll live. Now who the fuck was that?”
Vee hisses through clenched teeth. “He calls himself the Chief. He’s the fucker who locked me up. Wanted to use me as a sex toy for his little fucking group. I’m gonna kill him.”
I hear my own voice, but I’m barely aware I’m speaking. It still feels like a dream, and I can’t quite believe what I just saw.
“His name isn’t the Chief.” I look back across the garage to the hotel as if I might still see him standing there smiling in the doorway. “And you’re not going to kill him, Vee. I am.”
Vee looks at me as if I’ve lost it. “What are you talking about? That’s the fucker who runs the place. Calls himself the Chief.”
I shake my head. “I know him by a different name.” I look down at my spent gun and wish I had more ammo. If I had the fucking nuclear codes in front of me I’d use them if it meant he’d be dead. “His name is Sergeant Laurence,” I say, staring back at the hotel. “I met him in New York. He’s the man who killed my girlfriend. Shot her in the chest and drove over her body.”
I look back at Vee, and she can tell by the fire in my eyes that I’m completely sane, and completely serious. “And now he’s killed Bishop. Enough.” I nod towards Warren’s injured leg. “We’re going to get Warren’s leg fixed up, then we’re going to find more ammo. Then I’m going to kill that bastard.”
In the distance I hear the howls of the infected echo from the streets below. For a month those sounds have stuck terror in my heart and sent me cowering into the shadows. Not any more. Now the dead will become my allies, bound by a shared cause.
There are worse things out there than the infected.
And I’m going to kill them all.
΅
BOOK THREE
΅
VACCINE
:::1:::
DEAR JACK,
AS I write this I don’t know where you are. I don’t even know for sure if you’re still alive, but my heart tells me that you and your mom are safe and sound. Mom was always much smarter than me – as I’m sure she’ll remind you often when you’re old enough to ask her – and I know she has what it takes to keep you safe.
I wish I could see you both right now. The thought that you’re out there waiting for me to come home is the only thing that gives me the strength to put one foot in front of the other. The hope that I’ll one day see your face again gets me up in the morning, and the dream of hugging you and your mom is the only thing I look forward to when I fall asleep. It hurts so much to be away from you that sometimes I feel like I can’t go on, but I know you need me to be strong.
Writing these letters helps a little. Even though you can’t read them it feels like I’m reaching out to you. Just for a moment it feels like you’re right here beside me, and that’s enough to get me through the day.
I want to be honest with you, Jack. I need you to know the truth about what’s happened in the last few weeks.
I’ve done terrible things. I stood by and allowed awful, unforgivable, evil things to take place at Camp One, and I want you to know that I’m truly sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better role model for you. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the man I hoped to be. I’m sorry I couldn’t find in myself the courage and strength I know you possess.
I know there’s no excuse, but I want you to know that when it all started I was sure I was doing the right thing. I didn’t set out to do harm. I thought I was fighting on the side of the good guys, protecting people from the infection, but when I learned the truth it took a long time – too long – for me to stand up for what’s right. I’ll never forgive myself for what I did, and I know I can never be forgiven for running away and leaving those poor people behind. I just hope that what comes next helps erase a little of the red from my ledger. Not all of it, but maybe just a little. Maybe enough.
I remember all the names of the people in my sector. I’ll remember them until my dying day. These are the people I promised to keep safe. These are the names of the decent, innocent people I abandoned. I want you to remember them, Jack. Remember their names, and say a prayer for them whenever you can. They deserved better. They deserve to be remembered for the sacrifice they made, and they deserved to have been protected by someone braver than me.
Polly Rice
Robert Grant
Amanda Leigh Montgomery
Forrest Bishop
Edgar Klaczko
Thomas Freeman
Stephanie Burrell
Harold Lawson
Rose McKinney
These are the nine people I was assigned to guard. I knew them. I made friends with them and brought them their meals. I smiled at them even after I learned what was happening. Even after I’d seen the bodies in the pit. I kept the doors locked even after I learned that I wasn’t protecting them but holding them prisoner. Even when I knew they were going to die.
When I saw Edgar killed I knew I couldn’t take it any more, but I didn’t have the courage to try to save the rest. I ran like a coward.
I want to tell you, Jack, that I’ve been given a chance to redeem myself. A very brave young lady has given me something that could help save us all. I have a long way to travel and the road ahead is dangerous, but I’ll do my best to make it. I’ll try to make you proud, son.
I miss you both so much.
Forever your loving father,
Lewis Rhodes
΅
:::2:::
LEWIS CAREFULLY FOLDS the sheet of paper over his knee and presses a sharp score down the middle with his thumb, folding it once more before tucking it between the pages of his notebook and stretching an elastic band tight around the thick bundle. He wipes a tear from his cheek, kisses his index finger and touches it tenderly to a creased, slightly out of focus photo of a baby boy tucked at the front of the book. Behind the boy a tired looking Rhodes beams a dazzling smile, pointing proudly to the words on his blue t-shirt that read ‘World’s #1 Dad’. He either hasn’t noticed or doesn’t care about the line of spit up running down from his shoulder.
It’s been two days since he fled Camp One. Two days since the mousy, nervous Czech mycologist whose name he could never quite pronounce cornered him in the mess. Two days since she pressed the Petri dish and notebook into his hands, told him her story and begged him to leave, her voice dripping with fear.
Last Man Standing Box Set [Books 1-3] Page 25