The Eliminators 1

by Jacqueline Druga

  He kept track of how many he was taking out. The daylight helped. His record in one day was one hundred and seven zombie kills, and Barry was certain he would surpass that. He was on his fourth magazine and about a hundred of those rounds were clear dead on shots.

  Five, six, seven ... come on … eight.

  Yes! Take that Green Jello people.

  He did it, then again he missed on the ninth shot, but that was okay to Barry. He blinked hard to clear his burning eyes and heard the click of the empty magazine.

  He lifted and inserted the fifth and final one by his feet. When that was done. He ejected it. “I’m out.” He walked over to the cases that were center of the roof. “Everyone good? Anyone need mags?” Barry yelled out. “Jim?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Rach.”

  “Good.”

  “Bill.”

  Nothing.

  “Bill,” Barry called him again.

  Bill stood aiming, peering out of the roof. His body didn’t jolt and that left Barry to wonder if he was even firing.

  “Bill? You good. You out?”

  Bill shook his head and lifted his arm.

  Taking that as a sign that Bill was just focusing, Barry grabbed more magazines and headed to his spot.

  Jack knew the substance well. He called it Zombie shit, while it wasn’t exactly fecal matter, it was what seeped out of the dead after they consumed a meal. Usually a day or so after they had eaten their victim. Technically they couldn’t digest it. But since they were upright, gravity pulled and the putrefaction stage of decomposition stage settled in the lower gut. The body’s internal gases acted like an acid and ate away the intestines, lower digestive tract and straight through the flesh of the undead. So anything a corpse ate, went through them, festered for a bit like rotten food and then dropped out of various lower openings.

  Zombie shit.

  And it was all over the slab floor.

  It was fresh, too. It hadn’t turned black and hard, it was slightly red and brown and smeared easily.

  There were at least two undead, he could tell by the footprints left behind as they sludged through the waste product.

  He didn’t see them, nor did he see any shit on the staircase.

  The open barricade told him that someone ‘alive’ had come down. More than likely for supplies and figured they wouldn’t be long. That suspicion was confirmed when he heard the sound of ripping tape coming from the distance.

  Someone was opening a box.

  Last he knew the dead didn’t open boxes.

  Unless that ‘live’ person took out the corpses they were all down on that first floor together.

  Jack needed to find the dead and the living before they found each other.

  <><><><>

  Clear.

  Clear.

  Rigs checked each storage unit door. He kept his radio on, using an earpiece in his ear to monitor the exchange,

  “It’s smeared. All over the place down here,” Jack reported. “They ate and they ate in here.”

  “So that tells us someone was alive,” Rigs replied.

  “There is someone down there. Alive,” Jack said. “I can hear them. I just can’t find them.”

  Kasper added, “That’s because it’s like a maze.”

  “Yeah, don’t get lost in that,” Rigs said. “Stay by the outer portions away from the shelves. Worry about the undead. Once you take them out you can safely find our living.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Kasper, how’s it going?”

  “Seeing nothing. Empty rooms and I’m checking to see if they’re hiding.”

  “Nothing here as well,” Rigs said.

  “Rigs, I see them,” Jack said. “I see two … no wait, three stiffs.”

  “You need back up?” Rigs asked.

  “Nah, it’s only three. I got this.”

  “Be careful.”

  “You got it.”

  Rigs reached for the next door. “What have we here?” He said over the radio. “It’s locked.”

  “You have a locked room?” Kasper asked.

  “Roger that, it could have been locked from before, but seeing how the others weren’t.”

  “Someone might be in there,” Kasper said. “You have the jam rod.”

  “Yeah. I can pop this open. It’s a typical interior lock. I’ll get back to you.” Rigs rested the radio in the holder and pulled out the jam that he used many times to pop a lock. He liked to consider himself a pro at it.

  He wedged the instrument in the door jamb by the lock. He’d pop it to the left at the same time he gave a kick to the door.

  Easy.

  Pop.

  Kick.

  Rigs stepped in.

  Bang.

  <><><><>

  Kasper heard it and his head lifted immediately to the sound of the gunshot. It was close, too close and within the warehouse.

  It was more like a pop instead of the booming noise that Rigs gun fired, so he knew it wasn’t Rigs.

  “Who fired?” Kasper asked. “Someone come in.”

  “Not me,” Jack said. “I'm chasing three. Need help up there?”

  “It’s me,” Rigs said with a straining voice. “I’m hit. I’m … okay. I think. It’s my leg. A kid shot me. A girl. She’s alone. I’m getting her out.”

  “Do you need help?”

  “No … I can do this. I think.”

  “I’m on my way.” Kasper turned around and when he did, he was face to face with an undead. Instinctively he swung out, knocking it back, but the undead toppled over the railing and fell below. “Shit.” He lifted the radio. “Sorry, Jack, I just sent you one more.”

  He spotted Rigs across the way, he carried a little girl in his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms tight around his neck. They were near the ladder to the hatch.

  Immediately he began to run toward them. Jack struggled with each rung.

  Kasper would have made it to him, but he saw two undead coming up the stairs.

  Figuring they were the ones Jack was chasing, and Rigs was already half way there, Kasper went after the undead.

  <><><><>

  “I’m out,” Rachel yelled. “Anyone else. Barry?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Jim?”

  “Yeah, can you grab me some?”

  “We’re making progress guys,” Rachel said making her way to the center of the roof. “And they wanted to abort.” She looked across and saw Bill. His arm down, weapon not even raised. She slowed in her stride. “Bill?”

  A few steps to him, Bill turned around. His face was white as he waved his hands to her, a signal to stay back.

  Just as he opened his mouth to say something, blood poured out. At first, he rolled over his chin then within seconds, it seemed as if he erupted. Bloody vomit shot from his mouth.

  “Bill!” Rachel screamed.

  “Stay back,” Jim cried out. “He’s infected.”

  “Aren’t we immune?”

  “We can’t take the chance,” Jim said.

  In his sickness and confusion, Bill moved in circles, his body arching back with every outward heave he made.

  “We have to do something.”

  “Rachel, please stay back,” Barry urged,

  In the brief reprieve from the vomiting, Bill dropped his rifle, he reached to the waist of his pants, pulled out his revolver and moved close to the roof’s edge.

  Rachel saw it coming. She knew what he was going to do.

  Bill placed the revolver under his chin and pulled the trigger.

  The force of the shot jerked his body back and he fell over the side of the warehouse roof.

  “No!” Rachel creamed out. “Bill!”

  Slam.

  It the fury of her intertwined emotions, the slamming of the hatch hitting against the roof caught her attention.

  She spun around, breathing heavily and saw a little girl.

  The child had long dark hair and looked to Rachel
to be around eight or nine.

  She emerged from the hatch, her face red and puffy. Her shoulders bouncing from the sobs.

  Rachel ran over and as soon as she did, Rigs pulled himself up.

  She saw his leg covered in blood.

  “Oh my God,” she helped clear him from the hatch. “You’re shot.”

  Rigs nodded. “It’s bleeding like a bitch.”

  “Jim! Barry. Did we bring a field bag? Rigs has been shot.”

  “I did it,” the little girl wept. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I thought he was one of the undead. He didn’t call out."

  Rigs cringed. “Not your fault. My bad for not calling out.”

  “Something happened to Curtis, he went down for food,” the girl said.

  “Who is Curtis?” Rachel asked.

  “The last one left.”

  Barry rushed to them. “Is he okay?”

  Then Jim came over. “Watch out, let me get this. I was a field medic.”

  “Will he make it?” Barry asked. “I know a femur hit could be deadly.”

  “Not a femur hit,” Jim replied. “Positive we were about to give the ten-minute warning before the chopper came back. I just need to stop the bleeding.:

  “Little girl,” Rachel said. “This is important. Do you know how many undead are in there?’

  She nodded. “Everyone that was in our group. Twelve.”

  “Shit,” Rachel lifted the radio. “Kasper, Kasper come in. There’s about a dozen in there.”

  “Roger that, Rach, I’m learning. Took out four.”

  “Jack,” Rachel radioed. “Jack did you hear that, come in?”

  Static.

  Rachel shifted her eyes to Rigs.

  Static. Static,

  “He’s trapped. I’m going in. Take care of him,” she told Jim.

  “I'll make it fast. She then grabbed her rifle. Without hesitating any longer, she went down the hatch.

  Her feet touched the catwalk and Rachel turned to see the end of the honing rod protruding through the head of the undead.

  It dropped, exposing Kasper.

  “How’s Rigs?” Kasper asked.

  “Shot. Bill’s dead,” Rachel said.

  “What?”

  “He was infected, started throwing up. Just like Liz said they come down with it out of the blue.”

  “No wonder she keeps the immune separated.”

  “Yeah. Have you seen Jack?”

  Kasper shook his head. “It’s a maze down there.”

  “Well, he definitely is trapped. He did the static signal.”

  “I heard.”

  “How many did you take out?” Rachel asked.

  “That …" He pointed to the one on the catwalk. “Makes five.”

  “Okay, well the little girl said a man named Curtis went down for supplies. So if he’s alive he’s down there.”

  “Maybe with Jack.”

  “Maybe.” Rachel walked toward the stairs. “You said it’s a maze?”

  “The middle. Yeah. All shelves. The ends where the stairs are is open. I mean, Jack could be hiding right under us. I can’t see through the boxes.”

  Rachel nodded, she pulled a set of earphones from her pocket, attached one end to the radio and placed the other in her ear., “I’m going down. I need you up here to be my eyes. Tell me which way to go. Which to avoid.”

  “Why don’t I go down?”

  “Because your eyes are better and you’re faster.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Rachel took the first step.

  “Rach?” Kasper called out. “Where’s your staff?’

  “Damn it. It’s on the roof. I have my rod.”

  “Here.” He handed her his. “Take mine.”

  She balanced it. “It’s heavier than mine.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  Rachel froze and her eyes widened.

  “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean that. Go. But stay near the bottom of the steps until I give you an all clear to go. Let me take a look.”

  “Got it.” Staff in hand, rifle over her shoulder, Rachel descended the stairs.

  <><><><>

  Kasper wanted to scream out, ‘Don’t rush me’, after Barry radioed there were only eight minutes left. But he couldn’t. All he could do was hurry and search, scanning the floor with the spotlight. “Fuck, there’s a lot of blood, Rach.”

  “Blood, did you say blood?”

  “Hard to tell. But … two … three ... four …” Kasper said,. “Four zombie bodies. Jack’s been taking them out.”

  “So the last one must have him trapped.”

  “Unless there’s another.”

  “Can I leave the stairs now?”

  “Let me look one more minute. Okay? Just want to find you a path. He’s gotta be here somewhere.”

  “Roger that.”

  It wasn’t that much heavier than her own staff, but enough for her to notice the difference when she balanced it on her hand while waiting and listening to Kasper.

  She listened with her free ear for any sound around the area. In the few seconds that Kasper didn’t talk, she heard a squishing sound.

  “Hey, Kasp,” Rachel called out. “I need you to look my way.”

  “You see something?” Kasper asked.

  “I hear it.”

  “Making my way there.”

  Rachel raised her eyes to the sound of his feet on the metal. Kasper walked back toward the staircase, looking down.

  When they made eye contact, he shook his head.

  Rachel stepped off the staircase removing the earbud from her ear so she could hear better. She was cautious, looking around, as she backed up.

  Just as she made it into the clearing, she turned and saw a head and neck. Someone was laying on the floor. His green baseball cap was partially off, resting right above his hair. His coloring wasn’t one of the dead and his open eyes stared at her as he blinked, looking at her as if wanting help.

  It had to be Curtis.

  She moved back even more, ready to call up that she found him when she saw Jack. His back was to her and he was kneeling by the guy. Probably trying to help him.

  She sighed out in relief and lifted her radio. “Found Jack. He’s helping someone.”

  “Rach,” Kasper shouted. “Behind you.”

  Rachel turned.

  There a foot or two from her was an undead. Before she could lift the staff or her honing rod a bullet seared by her head, nipping her ear just before it landed in the forehead of the zombie.

  “What the fuck, Kasper,” She cupped her ear. “First my hair now my …” Her eyes lifted when she saw Jack stand. “Hey,” she called out to him. “Are you okay?”

  Jack spun around, when he did, the insides of his abdomen rolled to the floor, blood and flesh hung from his mouth.

  “Fuck,” Rachel said. “He turned!”

  Knowing he was new and how fast he could be, Rachel lifted her rifle.

  The cascade of errors on her part just accumulated. She had never reloaded on the roof.

  She dropped the rifle.

  My God, Jack turned?

  Kasper’s first instinct was to race for the stairs, especially when he saw Rachel drop her weapon. Was it empty? Why didn’t she fire.

  But he knew she would be fine when she raised the staff, spun it once and prepared for Jack when he raged her way.

  Rachel was great with the staff, the best out of all of them … but it wasn’t her staff.

  The weight of it really did throw her off.

  She plunged it hard into Jack, it went straight into him, but eight inches below the desired impact point of the neck,

  Kasper saw it extend out Jack’s back, but it didn’t stop him.

  Rachel was within arm’s reach, so he grabbed her.

  She couldn’t even grab her honing rod.

  Time was of the essence and there wasn’t much time to help Rachel. He could shoot, but she was behind him.

  There was only one choice for Ka
sper.

  Rachel was glad she had on long sleeves or else his hands would have clawed her flesh and she would have been as good as gone.

  She felt as good as gone.

  It was only a matter of time before she was.

  She fought to keep the much stronger man from her, his head continuously moved forward in a chomping manner trying to bite her.

  Her strength was waning. Her knees started to buckle and that was when she saw him coming.

  Kasper lunged over the railing, honing rod in hand, sailing down toward them.

  “No!” Rachel cried out. She tried to maneuver Jack but couldn’t.

  The crunch of the honing rod as it sunk through Jack’s skull happened at the same time as the crunch that rang out when the staff impaled Kasper when he landed on it.

  Both Jack and Kasper dropped. Kasper’s legs were straight as he tried to stop the staff from going through any further.

  “Kasper!”

  Kasper groaned. “It missed anything vital I think,” Kasper said. “I think. Please look.”

  Rachel rushed around and exhaled loudly in relief when she saw the staff had impaled directly under his right shoulder. “Oh, my God. Thank God. How bad does it hurt?”

  “I’ve felt worse.”

  “Really?”

  “No.”

  Rachel lifted the radio. “Jim, I need you or Barry. Kasper’s hurt.”

  “Chopper is on the way,” Jim replied. “I’ll be right there.”

  After lowering the radio, Rachel reached for the staff.

  “Don’t pull it out!” Kasper yelled.

  “I’m not, I was seeing how much room I had.”

  “For?”

  She grabbed for his gladius. “I’m gonna swing through, but I need you to push back with your feet, so you don’t fall forward. Okay?"

  Kasper nodded.

  Rachel lifted the gladius.

  Jim called out. “Wait!”

  She did.

  He came running down the stairs and supported Kasper. “Now, swing away, hard and fast.”

  She had taken off the tips of many heads, the staff was nothing. She lifted it, swung down and cut through it like butter and Jim caught Kasper before he flew forward.