by Ben Reeder
“Do you think that…” she almost asked, looking behind her.
“Probably,” I said. “There are certain parts of my ignorance that I cherish, though.”
“Yeah, me too,” she said. I grabbed her and pulled her into an open office door as I heard wood crack behind us. A scream echoed down the hallway as I pulled the door shut. Amy backed away from the door, and I had to grab her hand to get her to follow me to the north wall. A quick jab with the pipe knocked a ceiling tile loose.
“Up ya go,” I said as I cupped my hands together. To her credit, she got the idea in a heartbeat, and put her foot in my hands. I boosted her up and she grabbed ahold of something, then pulled herself up into the empty space above the dropped ceiling. As the sound of feet came closer I set the pipe upright, reached up as high as I could and pulled up at the same time I jumped. My hands caught on the edge of the ceiling and I let the pipe fall against the wall as I pulled myself up into the dusty ceiling. Amy had already popped the ceiling tile on the other side and was waiting for me with her legs on the far side of the wall. I turned myself so my feet were dangling down into the other office, then reached down and grabbed the length of pipe. The door shuddered as the first ghouls reached it, and we pulled on the length of metal as fast as we dared to get it into the ceiling space with us. Just as we got it in, the door splintered and a horde of ghouls and the tumored ghoul spilled into the room.
I froze. As far as I’d seen, they didn’t seem to get thinking in three dimensions, but I didn’t want to alert them with any kind of movement. Beside me Amy’s eyes went wide, but she stayed still. The big one wandered into the room while the screaming ghoul lurked at the door. From above, I got a much closer look at it than I ever wanted to. Unlike every ghoul or zombie I’d seen, this one had no hair at all. It dragged its overburdened right leg as it made its way across the room. Its left arm was longer than the right, and from above, I could see one of the tumors on its left shoulder start to split open, revealing a tongue and upper teeth. Something else moved inside the opened mass, hidden by blood and tissue. Plates of bone were visible in a couple of the other opened masses, and I could see wounds in its chest that looked like it had already been shot several times. The tumor ghoul turned around in a circle, giving me more of a view than I ever wanted through the remnants of its hospital gown, then grunted at the ghoul at the door as it headed that way. The screaming ghoul edged in and looked around. This one looked like a mix of living and dead. Its skin was gray and pulled tight against its bones, which made it look almost skeletal. If it wasn’t for the tracery of black veins across the skin of its face, I would have thought I was looking at its skull. It uttered a low growl before it turned and wandered back into the hallway. Once it was out of sight, I waited for a full minute before I moved again.
Together, we got the pole down and slid down the wall into the next office. Without saying a word, Amy went to the desk and went to work on the computer. The office smelled of dead things and mold. The smashed aquarium on the far wall told me why. Beneath, a man in a suit was lying on his left side, with a blood trail arcing part way down the side of the cabinet behind him. From the front, he didn’t look so bad, with a neat little hole beneath his chin the only clue to how his life had ended. I crossed the room to him and picked up the pistol that was lying next to his right hand. On his right side were a nearly empty Crown Royal bottle and a gun case. On his left side was the empty glass, and I could see a bandage wrapped around his left hand. Black veins were just visible on the wounded hand, and I could see the first dark lines crawling up his neck. It was easy to imagine him sitting there, drinking the last of his liquor as he felt the virus slowly changing him. And then, knowing what was going to happen, deciding to end it before he became one of the monsters that bit him. With an unexpected feeling of reverence, I tucked the pistol back in the case and lowered the lid. Whether he knew it or not, this man was going to help save our asses.
“I’ve got bad news and I’ve got shitty news. Which do you want first?” Amy said softly when I laid the case on the desk.
“The bad news,” I said. “At least that way my day can just keep getting worse.”
“He’s got great speakers and he recorded his patient notes on his computer, so the second we hit play, the walking, skipping, and running dead people are going to come busting through that door to eat us.”
“What’s the shitty news?”
“The second we hit play, the walking, skipping and running dead people are going to come busting through that door to eat us. There’s no delay or timer.”
“Where’s the microphone?” I asked as I pulled my multi-tool from my belt again. She held up a small bud attached to the computer by a thin wire. I reached out and snipped the wire near the base. “Hit record.” Amy shook her head, then grabbed the mouse and hit the record button.
“How long?” she asked. I shrugged and went over to the mini fridge under one of the bookshelves. It took some work to move it quietly, but it slid out smoothly enough. When I had the back exposed, I yanked the power cord free of the wall and cut it off near the base. Then I stripped the insulation from the copper wire and pulled two of my ZT Spikes. The Spikes had a hole in the base of the handle and the handle itself had a cut out that ran most of its length, so it was fairly easy to run the copper wire through the openings a few times and twist it tight to hold the blades in place on the end of the pipe I’d scavenged. A lab coat hanging by the door provided enough strips to wrap the whole thing a few times to help secure it further, with a triple layer of duct tape for good measure. Now I had a two pronged spear. I signaled for Amy to come over to me and held my creation up.
“If that big fucker charges at you,” I said quietly, “or any of them for that matter, you step on the end of this and point it at their chest.” I demonstrated, placing my foot on the end of the pipe and lowering it to just below my shoulders. Crouched like I was, that put it chest high on the average person. “Once they spit themselves, you either run, or if it’s just one, put one of those Spikes through its skull. You got it?” She nodded and I handed the spear to her. At my gesture, she stuck the butt end on the floor and leaned the point forward in a decent imitation of the way I’d shown her. I gave her a smile and a thumbs up.
The smile she gave me hit me like a million watt bulb, even though it was wan and shaky. Right then I understood just a little bit of why Karl had sacrificed himself. He hadn’t been trying to save a whole helicopter full of strangers. He was saving Amy, no one else. And I couldn’t blame him. He’d probably had a hundred moments like this, a hundred hopeful, proud smiles that had turned him into mush. And while billions of men before me had taught their daughters to drive, dreaded their first dates, and wondered at their taste in music, I was having to teach Amy how to kill zombies. A week ago I might have made a crappy father, but today I was the best guy to take over the job. I needed to get myself a coffee cup: “World’s Deadliest Dad.”
I reached out and pulled her to me in a one armed hug, suddenly feeling completely inadequate to the task of filling Karl’s shoes.
“Um, Dave? Your chest is talking.” She pulled away and I looked down at the small pocket near my right shoulder. Inside was a personal radio with ear buds. Bewildered I pulled the little plastic buds out and put one to my right ear.
“Stewart! Do you hear me? This is Kaplan, calling Stewart…no, I didn’t tell him about it, but it beats hoping he just stumbles on to us. Kaplan, calling Stewart. Come in!” I heard over the tiny speaker.
“Regs state no uncoded communications over an open line,” I said when he paused, keeping my voice low. “I hear you, lieutenant.”
“Thank God. You just cost Hernandez a thousand dollars. Where the hell are you?”
“In the detention level rescuing the princess,” I shot back. “Truth is, I’m not sure which office we’re in, but we’re on the west side. What about you?”
“Holed up in an office on the north side of the building. There are infe
cted all over the goddamn place.”
“I know. We’re about to fix that. Give us a few minutes. When you hear them move this way, you should have a few minutes while they’re distracted. We’ll meet you at the elevators.”
“Roger that. I sure hope you know what the hell you’re doing.”
“Me, too. Stewart out.” I tucked the wire for the earphone behind my ear and turned to Amy.
“Eighteen minutes,” she said from the desk. “Star Trek and Star Wars in the same conversation. Nerd much?”
“I geek out when I’m under pressure,” I said. “I doubt he got the Wrath of Khan reference though. Too obscure.” I grabbed the gun case and tucked it in her backpack then went to the wall on the north side, avoiding the dead doctor. I popped the ceiling tile and moved it out of the way, then turned back to Amy and gave her a nod. She clicked the mouse then came my way on the double. I boosted her up and then repeated the assisted jump with the pipe. This time, Amy pulled the spear up while I climbed into the ceiling, and we kicked the tile down into the next room. This one had a bigger desk and two doors, one on the east wall and a set of double doors on the north wall. We hustled to the double doors and opened one about an inch. A receptionist’s office was on the other side, blessedly empty of living or dead. We slipped into the waiting area as quietly as we could and went to the door on the east side. Slowly, I turned the handle until I felt the bolt slide free and then opened the door a fraction of an inch at a time. A few zombies were shuffling around in the hallway, and I could see the hall leading east. We were close to the north end of the building. With less confidence than I was feeling, I turned to Amy and nodded. She gripped the spear and took a deep breath. For long minutes, we waited for our plan to start working. Finally, we heard a baritone voice start booming from down the hallway.
Immediately, the infected started moving toward the sound. I waited a ten count after the last of them had stumbled past before I opened the door and looked out. Sure enough, they were packed around the door two down from us. My heart was in my throat as I opened the door and gestured for Amy to go. She darted past me and I followed her. The click of the door closing never reached my ears over the low moan of the dead and the doctor’s voice. I hit the transmit key on the radio.
“Kaplan, we’re clear! Go!” Ahead of us, a door opened and the two Marines bolted into the hall. They looked our way and waited until we were only a few feet from them to start moving. We hit the turn and pounded feet down the hallway, past the kindling that had briefly been in the way of the big ghoul. To my right, I heard the roar of the tumored ghoul and the crash of doors being opened violently. We had seconds left before our distraction went away. We passed the triage area and Kaplan came to a stop. For a brief moment, he tried to open the doors to the breezeway, but they wouldn’t budge. Freedom was just millimeters away. Kaplan stepped back and pulled his SMG up, taking aim so that he was firing at an angle to the door instead of straight at it. His gun coughed and bullets went whining down the hallway as they ricocheted off the safety glass. Behind us, I heard another crash, and the voice stopped.
“Get that door open!” I said as I pulled the rifle from my back and headed toward the triage area. Almost as soon as I got there, the doors on the far side opened and I found myself facing the screaming ghoul. It took a deep breath and threw its head back as I brought the rifle up. The first round went off before I had a clear target in the scope, but I still managed to hit it in the leg. Then the barrel was up and I pulled the trigger three times. Holes appeared in the screamer’s chest, and it staggered back. For a second, it just stood there, head down. Then it tried to breathe again, and managed a gurgling inhalation as I closed my right eye and put the wavering crosshairs on its face. I exhaled, and suddenly the scope steadied. The moment seemed to stretch out infinitely. I had all the time I needed to pull the trigger, and when I did I knew I was going to hit. When the smoke cleared, the ghoul’s head was gone from the chin up.
The sound of suppressed gunfire broke the spell, and I saw Hernandez lowering her P90 to kick at the remains of the glass in the door. Before they could even yell for me I was running their way. Even before I got to the door I felt the heavy thuds through my feet. I’d learned in Iraq how certain things felt. Vibrations in my shoulders and arms meant outgoing artillery, but if I felt it in my feet, it meant a mortar round was landing. Now, I knew that the rhythmic thuds I was feeling in my heels and ankles were from the big fucker running our way. He slid into the glass as I made it to the door, and I could see him picking himself up when I turned the corner and hit the breezeway. Kaplan and Hernandez were almost clear of the breezeway, with Amy right behind them. Glass crunched under my feet as I started to pick up speed, then I heard metal screech and the heavy tread of the tumor ghoul behind me. I should have just kept going. I knew better.
I looked back.
The massive ghoul had already ripped a huge chunk out of the breezeway and he was still right on my ass. It slowed me down just enough for him to reach me, but it also gave me enough warning to almost get out of the way of the small mountain of fist he was throwing my way. But even a glancing blow from a Mack truck is still a glancing blow from a fucking semi. The punch knocked me clear of the breezeway’s awning and halfway to the helipad. I staggered forward in blinding pain before I hit the walkway and went sprawling. The armor on my arms probably saved me a yard and a half of road rash, but I didn’t figure I was going to get more than a few seconds to count that particular blessing as I tumbled onto my back and saw eight feet of raw ugly coming my way. The world swayed and spun in front of me, and I wondered if I’d picked up another concussion. Then, big ugly stopped. Over the ringing in my ears I heard the slap and crack of bullets hitting flesh and bone and the distant sound of my name being called. Ugly staggered back as wounds opened up on his chest, but he stayed on his feet. Just as quickly as the gunfire had started it stopped, and he shook his head before his beady eyes focused on me again. His hands curled into massive fists and he raised his arms over his head as he stepped forward. Just as I was bracing myself to try to dodge, I heard desperate cries from behind me, and then saw a familiar two pronged spear slam into Ugly’s chest. For a second he looked down at it, then he completely ignored it and leaned forward.
“Get away from him!” I heard Amy scream from behind me, along with a sound that galvanized me into clarity: the sound of metal on concrete. Ugly was looming over me, and he opened his mouth to let out an infuriated bellow. Pain, confusion, fear; all of it vanished as I rolled to my right and reached over my shoulder with my left hand. I pushed myself to my knees as I let out a roar of my own and grabbed the handle of the Deuce with both hands. Enraged, I came to my feet as I thrust the point up under the monster’s chin, and felt the blade shred flesh and shatter bone as it slammed up through its skull until it stopped moving with a jarring shock. The creature’s yell stopped with a gurgle and it looked down at me with wide eyes. With an enraged scream, I pushed up against its weight, slowly forcing it to stand straight, my whole body shaking with the effort. Its hands came up to grab me, and I twisted the blade before I yanked it out. Black blood poured from the wound as it wavered for a second, then it fell backward. The whole walkway shuddered under the impact, and I staggered back, every pain suddenly coming back to me as the adrenaline rush wore off. Just as suddenly, I was wrapped up in a hug that added pains of its own. Amy sobbed into my shoulder, and all I could do was put my free arm around her and stroke her hair while I made reassuring noises. After a few seconds, she stopped and pulled back a little, wiping her eyes.
“Don’t ever do that again,” I said with a waver in my voice. “Next time you leave me, do you understand?” She shook her head defiantly, her lips pressed together so hard her chin dimpled up. “Damn it Amy, if you get hurt, or so help me, get yourself killed, it won’t matter if I’m dead, your Mom will make my afterlife a living hell.” She let out a sobbing laugh and hugged me again before stepping back. Behind her, Hernandez and Kapla
n were watching us, with the occasional glance behind us. I looked over my shoulder at the ruins of the breezeway. Ugly had done enough damage that the metal roof had collapsed, effectively blocking it off. I wiped the Deuce off on a scrap of hospital gown from Big Ugly and sheathed it before I limped toward them, stopping long enough to pick up my rifle. The scope and body were scratched all to hell, but it looked okay otherwise.
“We better get moving,” Kaplan said. “We made enough noise to attract attention for miles around, and we need to find a way down.” I stumbled along behind him to the helipad and went to the right side to look over the edge. Metal poles stuck out parallel to the ground with chain link fencing strung between them like a net. With a sigh, I slung the M39 and walked along the edge of the concrete helipad until I found what I wanted.
“Over here,” I said as I pulled the multi-tool from my belt. Kaplan led the way over and looked dubiously at me as I crawled out onto the heavy fencing. Thick pieces of wire were crimped around the wires of the fence and the pole, and I used the pliers on the multi-tool to untwist every other one as I went. Once I was at the end, I stuck the multi-tool in a pocket and motioned for Hernandez to crawl out with me. The fence sagged dangerously under our weight.