“If there were fourteen people, what happened to everyone? How are you the only one left out here? And why stay here, in the hospital? Why not try to get away to someplace safer, less infested with gut-suckers?”
Andy scowled at Alex, his questions causing both anger and discomfort. “Can I just tell it without the fourth degree?”
“Third,” Jimmy said quietly.
“What?”
“Nothing, Andy, tell your story,” Dean said.
Jimmy eyed Dean quizzically; as if to ask why he was handling the man with kid gloves. With a slight tilt of his head, Dean spread his hands open, asking for patience.
“Is gut-sucker what you call them?”
“It’s a pet name,” Mike offered along with his grin.
“Pets, you keep them as pets?” Andy’s eyes grew large inside the swells of his face.
Dean got the impression that the fat man sitting on the bed was playing up an act, pretending the dumbass. While Andy was looking at Mike, Dean glanced to Jimmy and bared his teeth, nodding at the fat man. Puzzlement crossed his features for a second before he realized that Dean was asking him to scare the man.
Jimmy slammed his foot into the air-conditioning unit; the loud, hollow thunk startled everyone in the room and drew a mewling squeak from Andy.
Dean, fed up with playing nice said, “Hey dipshit, we’re all tired, hungry and pissed off. How about you tell your story and quit acting like a fucking moron, because none of us have time for it.”
Andy stared at the scarred face, shuddering. “Fine, asshole. As I said, there were about fourteen of us to start with. Some got sick, a couple took off. We were able to clear out the kitchen storage of everything edible. Several people even got to the gas station over there and cleaned out everything there as well.”
“How’d you get water without power?”
Andy glanced at Dean, opening his mouth for a snarky retort, before closing it and pointing to the window overlooking the second floor roof.
Several of the men looked out and down, seeing large plastic boxes lined up beneath drain spouts.
“Nice cisterns.”
“Danny thought of that. We were out of water for almost two days when it started to rain. After that we didn’t run out of water anymore. During the winter we just collected snow and boiled it.”
Alex saw something dark flicker through Andy’s eyes when he mentioned Danny. “What happened to him, to Danny?”
Several of the men noticed Andy’s hesitation before he answered. “He died, like all the others. They all died. I’m the only one left.” Andy went silent after that, leaving the men with more questions than answers.
Dean stepped out into the corridor, motioning the others to follow. “I don’t know about this guy, but I’ll be honest, I just want to get the hell out of here and be done with him and this whole place.”
“I agree with Dean, we take what we have and get gone,” Calvin said.
“Both of the lower floors are thick with zombies, so how are we leaving without someone getting their ass chewed up?”
“The second floor roof doesn’t extend out over the dock area does it?” Rick asked
“We can send a couple of people to check that out. The rest of us can wait here; maybe check the rooms on this floor for anything useful.”
“Sounds good to me, Mike. Who wants to go check the roof, see if we can somehow get from here to the truck without going back through the hospital?” Rick asked.
Calvin and Alex both volunteered for the job. “Hey, Andy, how do you get out to the second floor roof?” Alex called into the room.
“Second hallway on the right, door lets out to roof access.”
“That guy does not want us here,” Rick said.
“And we don’t want to be here, so everyone will be happy very soon,” Jimmy told Rick.
“Dude is just weird, and what’s with the sores around his mouth. Rick, you might want to use some hand sanitizer after slapping him.”
“Don’t be hateful, Cal,” Rick said sardonically, reaching into his day-kit for the small bottle of sanitizer kept there as part of his basic first aid.
“I want someone to tell me how, after nearly two years of this shit, that guy is still fat as hell,” Jimmy said to the group. “Every one of us has lost weight, even Mike, who’s still big as a house.”
Without comment Mike flipped up his middle finger, waving it in Jimmy’s face. Jimmy pushed the hand away, grinning.
“That is an interesting question, but I don’t care if I ever know,” Rick said.
Alex and Cal walked away, heading for the roof access.
“While they’re doing that let’s search these rooms up here. No idea what we might find, but it’s worth a shot.”
“I think I’m going to stay with our friend here, Rick,” Dean said. “I don’t want to leave this guy at our backs until we’re heading out the door.”
“Ok, we’ll be back in a few,” Rick said, turning to the nearest room to begin the search.
“Where’s your friends?” Andy asked when Dean came back in alone.
“Trying to find a way out of this place.”
“Good.” The steel frame of the hospital bed groaned as Andy shifted his considerable bulk.
Dean walked over to the window, looking down at the water setup. “Where do you store the water, for when it’s not raining?” Andy did nothing more than grunt in reply, the bed frame protesting as Andy moved around. “I’m just curious,” Dean said, turning around to address the big man.
A searing pain tore through his left side as the thin blade of a scalpel slid into his flesh. He looked down to see the blade protruding from his abdomen, the handle nearly lost in Andy’s meaty hand.
The fat hand yanked the blade free, stabbing it in again, just below the first puncture. Dean’s eyes opened wide, stunned that this fat beast of a man was suddenly stabbing him. In seconds, though, shock was replaced with adrenaline fired anger.
This time when the blade was torn free, Dean’s hand shot out, grasping the greasy wrist. Andy wheezed in Dean’s scarred face “I’m hungry, I’m so hungry,” which turned into a screech as Dean twisted the hand, locking the wrist.
Dean stepped into the big man, knowing he didn’t have the leverage to throw him, unsure that he could even if there was room. He drove his fist up hard into the solar plexus, one, twice, a third time, fetid breath like rotten meat and sewage exploding from Andy.
“You stabbed me you fat BITCH!” Dean’s voice became a roar, straining his vocal chords. “We were leaving! We were leaving, you fucking prick bastard!”
Andy, now on his knees, still trying to get a full breath said, “Hungry,” his voice quiet, weak.
“We would have given you food!” Dean held his hand against his shirt, bundling it up beneath his hand, pressing firmly against the wounds. “What the fuck were you thinking, stabbing me, you FUCK! You think you were going to eat me?”
Dean knew instantly from the look on Andy’s face, that was exactly what the man had planned. He drew back a step, horrified. “You think your fat-shit ass would have gotten all of us? Huh? Not a chance in hell.”
The scalpel lay inches from the hand Andy had on the floor, holding himself up. The shaft gleamed brightly, sunlight coming through the window to catch the textured handle. Dean’s blood darkened the razor sharp blade. It tinkled musically across the tile when Dean kicked it away. “Was it clean?” He asked through clenched teeth. Andy continued to look at the floor, sobbing quietly, saying nothing.
Dean could hear footsteps coming down the corridor at a run. He wanted an answer before they reached the room. Taking a handful of greasy brown hair in hand, Dean yanked the fat man’s head back, hard. “Was that blade clean? Or did it have zombie shit on it when you stuck it in me?” Andy looked through him, eyes glazed. Dean drew back, ready to land a solid punch in the center of the disgusting face. He faked the punch, making Andy flinch.
“Clean, it was clean,” Andy s
aid hurriedly.
Dean’s next punch was not fake, landing squarely on the wide nose just as Rick came through the door. Blood splattered around Dean’s fist as the nose flattened.
“What the hell!”
“Fat fuck stabbed me, Rick,” Dean said calmly.
“Holy shit! You ok, let me see it.”
“Hell no, you’ll just want to stick your damn finger in it anyway,” Dean said with a pained grin.
“I came to get you because the door’s been breached. Somehow those slow ass bastards got through and are coming up the stairs.”
“They can’t climb steps, at least not that damn well,” Dean said, grabbing his pack and the bags of loot he had carried in.
“Looks like they are or the whole pack is pushing the others up, I don’t know. All I know is they’re…” Rick was cut off by the sound of gunfire from down the hall.
“Time to go. What do you want to do with him?” Rick asked, grabbing several pillowcases of looted medical supplies.
“Leave him,” Dean said. He walked from the room and did not look back.
Chapter 25
“Where’s An…” Mike began to ask, before he saw the blood soaking the waistband of Dean’s pants. He was standing to the left of the door and firing another volley just as zombies reached the stairwell.
“Tell you later, let’s just get the hell out of here.”
Jimmy scowled, looking at the blood, at Dean’s hand clutching his side, and up to his face. “I think I can make time to beat the shit out of him.”
Dean could hear the growing roar of the zombies moaning on the stairs, still behind the door barricaded by the old desk. “Won’t be necessary,” Dean told the others.
“We have all the loot bags, nothing else matters. Let’s just get the hell out of here,” Rick told his friends.
Together the men backed away from the door that was now filling with undead. Instead of firing they broke and ran for the roof access door.
Outside, on the graveled roof, the men blocked the door with a length of two-by-four, which someone had presumably left there for that purpose.
Bodies slammed into the door, but the board held. Over the banging on the door and the moans of the shambling dead they heard a scream rise up, at first full and deep then lifting to a high and pitiable wail.
Wordlessly the men turned to the far end of the roof, where they knew the receiving dock to be.
Coming around the corner of what was the third floor portion of the hospital Calvin stopped, surprised to see the others. Even from a distance he could see that his brother was injured.
Before Calvin could say anything Dean said, “I’m fine; I’ll tell you about it later.”
Calvin did not think he looked fine. Dean was sweating and he looked extremely pale. “Ok. We can get down from here, but we have to drop to the first floor roof, over that way.” Calvin pointed to the south edge of the building.
The thought of a drop was pleasant to no one, but Mike dreaded it. He wasn’t sure how much more punishment his back could take.
The group ran quickly to the edge of the roof where they would drop first. Calvin went down, making the drop easily and catching the bags of supplies as they were handed down. Mike went last, sliding over the edge and hanging by his arms as far as he could. Taking a deep breath he released his hold and dropped, letting his legs fold and rolling with the impact. Pain like fire lanced through his back and down his leg. He grunted, holding in a shout of pain.
“You ok, Mike?” Dean asked.
“No, but I’ll live,” he responded, limping as the group continued toward the end of the roofline, where they would drop down to the awning covering the dock, and from there down to the top of the tractor trailer.
Just as the first of the men took the shorter drop to the awning the group heard a crashing noise behind them, a door behind thrown wide to slam against the wall behind it.
“Move guys, we need to move now,” Jimmy prodded.
Jimmy took the last position, watching back along the roof as Mike took the short drop to the awning. He heard his friend hit the roof, grunting loudly. The mass of zombies that had broken through the hastily boarded door came into sight just as Jimmy turned to jump down.
Jimmy ignored them, moving quickly to the edge and jumping on the trailer which sat just beneath the awning, making the jump an easy one. Alex already had the engine running and Jimmy shouted, “Let’s go!”
Calvin and Rick rode with Dean, who took the De Soto out first. Alex began to roll the truck forward, but not before several zombies joined Jimmy on the trailer’s roof. Jimmy took a knee and raised his rifle, popping off shots in rapid succession. One zombie was nearly cut in half, its dark crimson insides beginning to fall through its perforated abdomen even as it fell from the truck. Another creature was caught in the shin, its right leg suddenly dissolving beneath it. It too careened from the trailer just as Alex began to make the turn from the parking lot out toward the road leading away from this nightmare.
Jimmy leaned away from the turn, keeping his balance as he fired on the remaining creature still on the roof. It went down, but did not roll away as he had hoped. The dead thing began to pull itself toward him along the roof. Jimmy backed away until he felt the M2 at his back. Sighting with his AR-15, he carefully placed a shot in the top of the gut-suckers head.
Behind the truck Jimmy could see the large pack falling from the roof, one after the other, then in waves. Zombies piled on top of zombies, some getting back up, others were crushed beneath their undead kin.
“Get some speed, Alex, those fuckers are still coming!”
“I’m trying man! Too many turns, can’t go too fast yet,” Alex called from the cab.
Still crouching on the trailer roof, Jimmy looked back toward the hospital, only to wish he had not. “Oh shit.”
The hundreds of undead inside the hospital had started to press against the large windows when they could see and hear the heavy truck. One of the large panes gave way as Jimmy watched, thinking, “It looks like the hospital is vomiting up something nasty.”
“Just went from bad to really bad, Alex, make this bitch roll!”
Alex pushed down on the accelerator just before coming to the right turn that would lead them back to Forrest Drive. “Hang on!”
Jimmy reached for the barrel of the big gun, gripping it with one hand. The turn would have been nearly too much for a big truck going slow, and Alex fought hard to keep it from turning over. The angle caused the trailer to tip just slightly. When it came back down with a hard thump Jimmy’s hand slipped from the barrel and he slid off the roof of the trailer.
Alex, all of his attention devoted to fighting the big truck back into a straight line, did not notice that his friend had fallen, nor did Mike, who was in the passenger seat.
Alex caught up to the De Soto where Forrest Drive turned onto Shinn Lane. Pulling up beside the car, Alex checked his side mirror and was relieved to find that they had pulled away from the horde, as he could no longer see them. “Jimmy, get down here!”
“Jimbo, come on!” Mike called.
The men in the car got out, and Dean jumped up on the cab of the truck, holding onto the busted side mirror. “Jimmy?” He saw nothing, and scrambled up on to the roof. “He’s not up here guys!” Dean’s voice was high, terrified.
“What the hell do you mean, “He’s not up there”?” Mike asked, his voice becoming dark.
Dean slipped a small pair of binoculars from his pocket and looked back they way they had come. “Oh no, what the hell!”
“What’s going on, Dean?” Rick called up.
“Looks like Jimmy’s lying on the ground, no, wait he’s moving.” Dean watched as Jimmy sat up. The horde of undead grew perilously close to the man now sitting on the ground, holding his head. Dean could tell the moment Jimmy saw the horde, he looked back, maybe hoping his friends were near. When he saw that no help was coming he stood up on shaky legs and began a stumbling run, not towards
Dean and the rest of the team but towards the nearest parking lot filled with cars. The horde was less than twenty feet away when Jimmy dropped to the ground between two vehicles, out of sight.
Dean relayed everything to the men as it happened. That minute seemed to stretch to the breaking point.
“We have to go back, now!”
“Mike, there are several hundred zombies down there. They’ll swarm us in minutes if we go back there. We’ll all die.” Rick’s voice was heavy, his stomach turning at the thought of what was happening to their friend.
“No, Damn it! Just. Fucking. NO!” Mike slammed his large fist into the side of the trailer, putting a huge dent in the thin metal. He looked around at his companions; eyes large and wild. “We can’t just leave him,” Mike said, his voice weak. He knew that any attempt to rescue Jimmy would be a death sentence for all.
Some of the horde continued to follow the road, coming after the truck, while the rest weaved through cars, surrounding the area where Jimmy had dropped from sight.
Dean climbed down from the roof of the trailer, holding the area where Andy had stabbed him. His face was long, eyes downcast. “They’re still coming.” He looked first to Rick, then into Mike’s eyes. “We have to go,” he said slowly.
Mike gazed back toward the hospital, tears just beginning to roll down his face. “I’m sorry brother,” he said softly. No one moved until Mike climbed into the cab of the truck. The vehicles pulled away from Forrest Drive, taking the long and circuitous route back to Camp Oko Tipi, carrying the medical supplies they had come for, that had cost them so much.
No words were spoken on the drive home. Every man shed his tears in silence.
Chapter 26
Loss was not new to the people inhabiting Camp Oko Tipi. They all knew death, the pain of losing someone dear and close and loved. Every person mourns in their own way, attempting to find that which would comfort, or at least numb the sorrow enough to get to the next day, where they would do it again and again until the heartsick sadness was lessened enough to continue their own lives.
American Revenant (Book 3): The Monster In Man Page 13