Welcome to Necropolis

by Bryan Killian

  “Hey dad, how about that trailer over there?” Nicholas said pointing towards it.

  The others looked across the street. The flatbed trailer appeared to be just what they needed. Willie looked down at all the vehicles.

  “That trailer probably needs a 2” hitch.” Willie pointed to the red Dodge truck.

  “I’ll pull over there real quick. Finish loading the SUV.” Trevor said as he walked to the cab of his truck.

  “I’ll go with you. You’ll need a look out.” Mariano said.

  “Cool.” Trevor said pointing to the passenger side of the truck. “The more the merrier.”

  “We are losing daylight quickly.” Mariano said sounding a bit impatient.

  The others continued loading the remaining vehicles. Supplies sat on the loading dock awaiting transport back to the camp. Trevor and Mariano drove across the street and checked out the trailer. Trevor backed the truck up to the trailer hitch and stopped. Both he and Mariano stepped out of the truck. Trevor walked back to the trailer while Mariano studied his surroundings. The dumpsters blocked his view of the side street running near the stores. It made him uncomfortable. He held the shotgun near his hip as he looked around. Approximately two hundred yards away, Leanne waved at him. She waved and pointed towards the side street where his vision was blocked.

  “Hey, help me lift the trailer on to the hitch.” Trevor asked, not seeing Leanne’s frantic wave.

  “We’ve got company.” Mariano said moving around the truck to get a better view of the street.

  “What?” Trevor said. He stood and watched Mariano move away from the truck.

  Trevor removed a snub nose .38 from a shoulder holster. He could see Leanne waving from across the street. She was almost frantic in her expression when Willie stepped out just behind her. He watched Willie pointing to the row of vehicles at the loading dock. His eyes darted back and forth between Leanne and his truck. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to shoot anybody or anything. What if it was just a virus or an infection? What if those things were alive and could be cured? Soon the government would figure it out and develop a cure. They could all be considered murderers.

  Mariano moved away from the truck towards the side of the dumpsters in an effort to see what Leanne was pointing at. Trevor jumped into the front seat of the truck and sped away abandoning him. Motherfucker! He wanted to chase after the truck and smack Trevor upside the head but for now, he had bigger problems to worry about. Just as Mariano turned back towards the dumpsters all hell broke loose.

  A volley of bullets tore through the truck and Trevor. The sound of the gunshots caught Mariano by surprise. He hit the ground and rolled against one of the dumpsters. He still couldn’t see who or what was shooting at the truck. For a brief moment, Mariano thought zombies had gained the ability to use firearms. Then he heard a man barking orders.

  “Watch for the big nigger that rode over with him. He’s still around here.” The voice was deep and gruff. Mariano crawled between two dumpsters and found a ladder leading to the top of one. Swiftly, he climbed to the top.

  Trevor lay slumped over the wheel of his truck. Blood poured from several holes in his body. His foot rested on the gas pedal causing the truck to race across the street directly towards the remaining vehicles. The others watched in horror as a ruthless gang gunned down their fellow survivor.

  The gang had survived the last 48 hours in brutal fashion losing a few along the way. Their numbers and firepower proved formidable. The zombies were no more than a minor inconvenience while the two cops they had taken down proved more of a challenge and more fun.

  Trevor’s truck raced across the street, jumping the small curb and plowing into Willie’s truck, destroying both vehicles. Trevor’s truck ricocheted off of Willies and landed between the SUV and a grey Chevy. Trevor’s body was ejected like a missile and became lodged in the windshield of Willies now destroyed truck.

  The rollup door came slamming down as bullets began to punch holes in it. The remaining survivors dropped to the floor and crawled for cover. Water, soda, beer, and other products leaked all over the floor of the loading area. Bullets continued tearing through the room.

  “We need to get the fuck out of here!” Willie said, dragging Nicholas with him. The others followed.

  “What about Mariano?” Leanne yelled out over the constant barrage of bullets.

  “Too late, we need to get the fuck out of here.” Willie kept moving.

  Mariano remained in the dumpster. He stood in the corner with the shotgun pointed at the top of the ladder. Soon, one of the shooters would climb up and he would remove the fucker’s head. The one-sided battle continued outside of the dumpster but was temporarily drowned out by the sound of Trevor’s truck crashing. Mariano feared the worst.

  “Check in the dumpster, I bet that fat fuck is in one of them.” A voice yelled out. Mariano couldn’t discern which direction the voice came from.

  “Fat? Man this day can’t get any worse.” Mariano said softly as he knelt down behind a small pile of debris and waited for an assailant to climb the ladder. The debris turned out to be some old office furniture, drywall, and other various remodeling refuse. Lucky for him, a nearby office was in the process of receiving a facelift before the infection. He climbed under a discarded desk and pulled some drywall over the opening. He was perfectly concealed. He hoped the remaining dumpsters had debris in them as well. That’d be my luck, first fat man then dead man. Gunfire continued to play across the street.

  Twenty-Eight

  Henry O’Grady looked up from his radio and listened intently to gunshots echoing in the valley. Others in the camp stopped working and listened as well. A woman placed her hands over her mouth looking pained. Though the gunshots weren’t loud, the camp could tell a fierce battle was in progress and most likely coming from the Costco. Day or night, small arms fire could be heard. This was different. They stood and listened as shot after shot echoed into the camp.

  Inside the Center, Gates looked over his notes and wondered if help was coming or if he was it. Across the make shift command office sat a dry erase board, listing the names of all the camps residents. On one side of the board a small list was written in blue signifying the ranking personnel and sentries. On a second smaller board, six names were written in red. They represented the camps residents that were sick, injured, and close to critical condition. The six were currently under around the clock care. An armed sentry stood watch in the small medical ward at all times with orders to shoot any person showing signs of the infection. It was harsh but effective. To date, only one person had to be, for lack of a better term, eradicated. Gates poured himself a glass of Macallan 12-year-old single malt scotch. Just as he lifted the glass to his lips, he heard it. He sat the scotch down and began rubbing his eyes.

  “Sir, you better come out here.” One of his officers said holding the door open.

  “Yes, I hear it. How long has it been going on?” Gates asked not looking up at the officer.

  “Hard to say, sir. The people outside began looking to the east about two minutes ago. It’s coming from the same direction our supply team went. Should we send out a rescue team?”

  “No. They knew the risk. We’ll address the camp after sunset.” Gates leaned back and took a sip from his scotch.

  An orange haze from the setting sun danced brilliantly through the smoke and set an ominous mood. The residents, or refugees as some were left to believe they were, gathered around the main entrance to the Convention Center. There had been no sign of the supply detail and rumors started to run wild throughout camp. Some believed the mission had gone terribly wrong while others guessed the group had run into a small group infected and were simply killing them off. Gates walked through the crowded Center floor and stepped out of the main entrance. He stood atop the stairs with two of his officers. He looked over the small crowd and felt a sudden rush of power. They’re all waiting for me to speak. Behind him more residents gathered. He was truly the ce
nter of attention. They gathered looking for guidance and protection. They were his people now and they would follow his lead in whatever he told them to do to survive.

  “Good evening. I understand your concerns tonight. I assure all of you that the supply detail will be arriving back here shortly. I do not believe the gunfire you heard earlier had anything to do with them. A member of the detail has keys to the building and they all understood the need for surreptitious movement. I have no doubt they will arrive unharmed. I…”

  “How do you know?” A young man interrupted.

  “I have commanded similar…”

  “What do you mean you’ve commanded similar situations? From what I’ve seen this is a pretty unique situation.” Again the young man interrupted Gates. His questions began to insight the crowd.

  “Have you had contact with them? Did they have radios?”

  “We should send help!”

  The questions rang out. The two officers standing at Gates side began to feel uncomfortable. The former military officer was losing control quickly.

  “Sir, we really should send a detail out to check on them.” A twenty-year-old PFC on leave from the Marine Corp said.

  “Do not speak out of place private, we have to keep a unified front here and keep these people safe.” Gates shot back without looking in the Private’s direction.

  “Sir, I mean no…”

  “What did I just say to you? Are you deaf?” Gates was now looking directly at the young private.

  The Private dared to look Gates in the eye and saw glimpses of a man going mad. The crowd continued to yell out questions, their backs to the camp. The ruckus drew the attention of two roaming armed sentries. They walked to the back of the crowd and listened to the barrage of questions. With each passing second the crowd grew more restless and soon a fight broke out between two men near the Center’s steps. Gates attempted to yell over the crowd but was drowned out by the chaos.

  ***

  Near the edge of the camp, just beyond the perimeter, they walked in the growing shadows of twilight having been drawn to the Center by the sounds, lights and the smells of fresh meat. Zombies, too many to count, breached the perimeter of the camp. The living, oblivious to the threat, continued to fight amongst them. The zombies began to move faster. Runners emerged while others limped along driven by the same instinct to feed.

  Twenty-Nine

  The fire had started in a bottom floor apartment. The tenant, an elderly woman, had forgotten to turn off her oven before she fled with her daughter and son-in-law. The oven had finally managed to burn through the heat plate and ignite the back wall of the small kitchen. Smoke poured out the half open sliding glass door. Tom had spotted it and warned Ty and Jess. Now all three along with Sugar were busy gathering any supplies they could. Hasty decisions regarding where they should go and how they should get there were made, remade and argued over. Jess was still set on going to the Convention Center while Ty wanted to seek refuge in the Bixter Building where he worked. Tom, somewhat dismayed at the events, didn’t have an opinion and was still holding a significant grudge over Ty shooting his brother.

  The trio hurried around Ty’s apartment until they had everything they felt they needed. Jess had transferred most of his so called survival gear and supplies to Ty’s apartment and couldn’t think of anything else he had that would be of any assistance. Ty stopped for a moment and looked over the mound of stuff in his living room.

  “We’re going to have to make two trips.” He said.

  “No way. We need to get all this out now and get to the parking lot. My truck has enough room for all this stuff.”

  “OK, we grab what we can but I think we should take two vehicles. My jeep has a full tank and if one of us breaks down, we have a back up.” Ty held out the keys to his Jeep.

  “You’re Jeep has a soft top. That won’t keep those fucks out.” Jess had a point but Ty wasn’t about to give in. He wanted to head straight for the Bixter Building and he knew his Jeep would make it no problem.

  “Your call, dude, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. You’d better have plenty of ammo with you when we bail.” Jess walked off to the front door and looked out the peephole. Nothing moved by.

  “Tom, who you riding with?” Ty asked looking over at the teen.

  “Where are we going? The Center or your building you keep talking about?” Tom asked showing some intelligence.

  “The Center.” Jess yelled out walking back down the hall. “No time like the present. There’s none of those things on the landing so lets get the fuck out of here before we burn to death.”

  “I’m not going to the Center. You guys can go. Sugar and I are heading for the Bixter Building.” Ty walked to his bedroom and retrieved a picture of his ex-wife from his nightstand drawer. Sorry baby. I’m gonna be using your father’s cabin for a bit. Hope you don’t mind. Eventually, he would make it to her parent’s cabin in the mountains. The thought gave him some comfort.

  “Fine, Ty, go to your building. Tom and I are going to the Center. Some friend you are. I bet you like the idea of being alone.” Jess never saw the fist coming.

  Jess hit the floor hard and scrambled to get to his feet but couldn’t under Ty’s weight. He was pinned. Sugar growled and snapped at his face.

  “I don’t like being a loner, you fuck, I just choose to. I’m not going through the same bullshit my wife put me through. We actually split up our friends and they agreed to it.” Ty said, holding Jess down. The fury he felt helped him feel alive. He hoped he would come across Sandra and that she would be one of those things so he could finally put a bullet in her head.

  “Are you fucking crazy? Get the fuck off of me you homo.” Jess yelled out.

  “Make me, shithead.” Ty said starting to laugh. Tom stood near the patio door finally interrupting.

  “You guys know the building is on fire, right?”

  Ty smacked Jess in the forehead once more then scrambled to his feet awaiting retaliation. Jess got to his feet and snickered rubbing the side of his face.

  “You hit like a girl.” Jess said, walking over to his backpack.

  The trio laughed a bit while grabbing all the supplies they could. Jess was still set on heading for the Center while Ty and Sugar were heading for the Bixter Building.

  “If you guys find the Center inhospitable, you can always head over to my building.” Ty said grasping Jess’s shoulder.

  “You still hit like a girl.” Jess said shrugging his shoulders heading to the front door loaded with supplies. Tom stood behind him holding a small pistol and carrying two large duffle bags filled with canned goods and water. The weight of the bags hampered Tom’s ability to move quickly but he felt he could manage. Ty brought up the rear with Sugar. He carried two backpacks, one slung properly over both shoulders and one slung over his left. He also carried a large duffle bag in his left hand. He held his .357 in his free hand.

  Jess looked through the peephole. He opened the door, cautiously looking both ways down the walkway. From the landing he couldn’t see the vehicles in the gated area but he could see the pedestrian entrance. The gate remained intact, which was a good sign. The group moved to the second floor where they could see the pedestrian entrance on the street side. It was wide open.

  “Not good.” Jess said, stopping.

  Ty didn’t see any movement on the bottom level. Sugar remained quiet by his side.

  “Sugar’s not growling. I don’t think there’s anybody around.” Ty explained.

  Jess checked his shotgun once more. The stairs echoed with their footsteps. They reached the pedestrian gate. Bloody handprints lined the walls and bits of flesh hung from it. Sugar began to growl. From the other side of the gate came a moan.

  “Shit. They’re in the parking area.” Jess said looking through an opening in the gate.

  Three zombies walked around the parking area. The back gate leading out to the street directly behind the complex was wide open. Ty’s Jeep sat closest to the
gate while Jess’s truck sat on the far side of the lot. Fabulous, Jess thought. He turned and held up three fingers then pointed to his eyes and waved for Ty to break right when they entered the gate and signaled Tom to remain with him. Jess turned back to the gate and reached out to open it. Tom looked back at Ty and both raised an eyebrow at Jess’s newfound status as a wannabe special ops soldier.

  Jess pulled the gate open and fired instantly at a nearby zombie. The body of the portly man fell backwards, missing most of his head. The two remaining zombies, drawn by the shotgun blast, moved towards the commotion. One zombie, a young girl wearing a stained yellow sundress, sprinted towards the group. Tom froze at the sight. Sugar barked and tried to run towards the girl but Ty held her leash tightly. He gave her the order to cease. Ty raised his .357 and squeezed off a shot. The girls left shoulder split and her arm fell to the ground. She spun from the impact but somehow remained on her feet continuing her sprint towards them. Ty used both hands to aim and dispatched the girl with a well placed round through her mouth. Her head sloped to one side, still attached by thin sinews and stings of meat.

  Jess raised his shotgun and pulled the trigger prematurely sending a slug to the pavement at the feet of the last approaching zombie. The body of a middle aged black woman walked slowly towards them. Her knees were bloody and her right foot appeared to be broken, slowing her down. Jess couldn’t believe he had wasted a perfectly good slug. He raised his shotgun and braced himself. Tom stepped up and aimed his pistol as Jess watched from the corner of his eye. Tom pulled the trigger, dropping the zombie.

  “Nice shot. Now let’s get out of here.” Jess said, jogging to his beat up Chevy pick-up.

  They stopped and listened. Ty looked in the direction of the Convention Center. The gunshots were constant and sharp. Many different guns were fired. Jess looked back at Ty with concern on his face.