Welcome to Necropolis

by Bryan Killian

  A sentry, now dead, chewed on a leg that once was his. Blood ran down his face as he tore a large chunk of flesh from the leg. The foot was still covered by a bloody high top sneaker. He sat like a child enjoying a dessert as a woman on fire ran passed him. He reached for her but found the meal at hand to good to give up. He grunted returning to the leg. The woman finally fell to the ground rolling to extinguish the flames. Two zombies rushed her. A shallow scream escaped her. One zombie pawed at the woman’s face peeling her burnt skin. The zombie swallowed the skin then twisted the woman’s head breaking her neck.

  Yonkey lifted his head seeing Gates standing at the big double doors. His vision blurred and his head fell back to the floor with a thump. Gates watched with strange fascination as bedlam unfolded before him. A skinny young girl with cloudy eyes ran up the steps. Gates removed his .45, firing once and caving the girls face in. More were moving towards the Center’s entrance. Gates pulled the doors closed. He could hear the screams for help, but it didn’t matter. Citizens meant to survive were inside the Center. The heavy door slammed shut and Gates locked it. The combined weight of four zombies hit the door. It barely moved.

  Inside the Center’s main lobby people, battered and bruised were all over. Several people were bleeding while others tended to the wounded. A General Practice doctor made her way through the lobby and started triage. Gates surveyed the Center’s new residents. Yonkey lay unconscious at his feet. He shook his head and walked over to the doctor while wondered if the old gent with the radio had survived. The thought quickly passed.

  Gates gave the doctor instructions. “Any who have been bitten will be quarantined immediately. I will send down an armed detail to assist you.” The doctor nodded and moved on.

  ***

  Outside the Center, the carnage continued. The few zombies that had found the front entrance of the Center gave up and moved back to the grassy area. Henry O’Grady sat in his RV waiting for the action to die down enough for him to make a break for it. Anna sat at the small table and held a rag over the large bite to her wrist. Blood seeped from the wound. She felt cold and weak. She wanted to call out for Henry but knew he was far too busy to bother with her. Slowly, she slipped from consciousness. Henry watched as a zombie chased a young boy. The zombie caught the boy, pulling him to the ground. His screams were horrifying. It was enough to force Henry’s hand. He started the RV and slammed it into gear tearing through the grass. He made it to the perimeter with only a few zombies chasing him.

  The street was clear of vehicles. He frantically thought of where to go. He needed a clear area where he could set up camp and tend to Anna’s wound. She was bit but he blocked any idea of infection out of his mind. She wouldn’t turn into one of those things. Alzheimer’s may be claiming her mind but he wasn’t going to let this so-called infection take her from him and steal their precious remaining time.

  Her hand touched his shoulder. “You OK sweetheart?” Henry asked. Anna didn’t answer.

  Henry took a moment, glancing up at his bride. Her dentures buried into his forehead. Henry jerked the wheel losing control of the RV. His foot pressed down on the gas pedal as Anna clawed at his face. She pulled back and went in for another bite. Her gums bounced off of his shoulder. Her dentures were firmly imbedded in Henry’s skull. She continued to claw at his face as he tried to fight her off. The RV slammed into a telephone pole sending husband and wife through the windshield.

  The RV smoldered in its wreckage. Henry O’Grady lay in a crumpled mess. His spine had snapped in two different places killing him before he hit the ground. Anna was in two different places. Her lower half remained in the RV while her abdomen and half her head rested on the ground near her husband. Mr. And Mrs. O’Grady found their final resting places near a Taco Bell recently gutted by fire.

  In a small tent back at the Convention Center a voice asked, “Is anybody there?” over Henry O’Grady’s shortwave radio.

  Thirty-Two

  Mariano crouched under the discarded desk, holding his shotgun. The dust from the drywall made him want to sneeze. He dug his nails into the top of his hand to ward it off. Above him a gang member sat looking down into the debris.

  “Snap, what the fuck are you waiting for?” A fellow gang member yelled out from the ground.

  “I can’t see the mother fucker anywhere. There’s a bunch of shit in this one.”

  “Shoot in there and move on. We have to get across the street. Were going after the bitch that was with’em.”

  Several bullets rained down into the dumpster. None of them found their mark. He heard the gang member scurry off. His conscience told him to help his fellow survivors but he knew he was outgunned. He would have to wait for the element of surprise. Several more shots rang out in neighboring dumpsters setting Mariano’s mind at ease just a bit. Soon, he could hear nothing near him. The next volleys of gunshots were in the distance and he knew they were coming from inside the Costco.

  Mariano moved out of his manmade cave and climbed to the edge of the dumpster. He cautiously peered towards the loading area where two of the trucks remained undamaged. The others were lost. He spotted a look out at the side door dipping his head quickly out of sight. He waited for a moment strategizing his next move.

  Across the street, he could hear the gun battle commence and end. He feared the worst for his fellow survivors. His hands began to shake thinking he may have let his fellow survivors down. His hands continued to shake when Dayton’s face popped into his mind. He now knew why he was still alive and what he had to do. He gathered himself and began to form a plan. His cover would soon arrive with the approaching night and he would be on the move. The guilt he felt quickly dissipated for he had more important things to tend to.

  Mariano slinked across the street and approached the remaining undamaged trucks. Unfortunately for him, his SUV was destroyed when Trevor was killed. With any luck, the keys would be in the ignition of one of the others. Just as he peered into the window of the first truck he heard shuffling footsteps. He turned to see the figure sauntering slowly towards him. It was too dark to see the zombie’s face but Mariano knew he had to dispatch it quickly and quietly but first he looked back into the cab of the truck. No keys. He cursed, stepping out from the truck. The zombie continued moving slowly towards him. Mariano lifted the butt of his shotgun and brought it down hard against the zombie’s head. The head of the zombie cracked with a sickening thud. Mariano wrinkled his nose and he wiped the butt of his gun off.

  Mariano saw movement out of the side of his eye while walking quietly to the second truck. He froze. With dusk approaching, he could see their heads bobbing up and down as they moved towards him. The activity from earlier had drawn them. Mariano could hear them shuffling and then he could hear the running.

  “Fuck.” Mariano exclaimed. He began running as well in the opposite direction.

  On the loading dock, a gang member known as “Fat John” stepped out to check the street just as the sun dipped into the horizon. He heard the zombies shuffling then he heard the tell tale sound of running feet. He raised his 9mm and fired errantly into the dark. The sound drew the attention of several zombies swarming to his location. Fat John moved faster than he ever had.

  “They’re out there…a ton of them!” Fat John yelled out as he pushed the door closed. He doubled over gasping for air while leaning against the door. His fellow gang members looked in his direction. The store was nearly pitch black. Any light sifting in through the open door had been doused. Fat John stood up with his hand on the door just as it was pushed in.

  Fat John didn’t realized the door did not automatically lock. He was knocked to the floor by two zombies tearing at his face and chest. He screamed and tried with all his might to crawl away from the zombies. He flipped over feeling a hand pull at his face. Cold fingers probed at his orifices. He attempted to escape his attackers but felt teeth sink into the back of his left calf. The zombie removed a large piece of meat from his calf, causing Fat John to ball
up and grab his wound. He could feel cold fingers dig deep into his face tearing large holes in his cheeks. A thumb probed his eyes. His mind raced for answers as he attempted to fend off his dead attackers. The zombies ripped into his side and tore his rib cage apart. He screamed in terror when his ribs spread apart and hands entered his chest cavity looking for warm organs to eat. Fat John stopped screaming when his own blood flooded his lungs.

  A horde of zombies entered the store. The gang members opened fire at anything moving. They retreated into the many aisles the warehouse store offered and continued to fire frantically. Muzzle flashes gave them momentary glimpses of the rushing zombies. A few zombies were gunned down with lucky shots. The gang members proved to be bad shots and one by one they were caught and dragged to the floor by the hungry. Their screams echoed through the large warehouse.

  ***

  Leanne led Willie and Nicholas upstairs to the management office running to the end of the hall stopping at the last door.

  “This is the last office. It has a small window that we should be able to fit through. It leads to the roof.” Leanne continued to announce her escape plan as she searched for the correct key.

  The screams and gunshots continued downstairs. Nicholas turned pulling on his fathers shoulder.

  “Something’s coming.” Nicholas warned.

  Willie pushed his son aside and aimed his .38 down the hall.

  “Hurry up with that key.” Willie said.

  “I can’t see a thing.” Leanne complained.

  Willie reached into his pocket flipping open a Zippo lighter handing it to Leanne.

  “Perfect.” With the light of the flame she was able to find the key.

  Willie stood poised to fire if need be. Leanne pushed the office door open and led Nicholas in with her. Willie brought up the rear just as a zombie made its way to the top of the stairs groaning as it neared. On the other side of the office door Leanne, Willie, and Nicholas held their breaths remaining as still as possible. Between the three of them, they only had two guns. Willie’s .38 and the 380 semi-auto Nicholas was allowed to carry. Leanne tried the telephone sitting on the large oak desk. Nothing.

  “Worth a try.” She said.

  Slowly Leanne walked over to the window, feeling for the lock. Willie remained by the door. He checked the lock and then checked it again. Leanne fumbled for the window lock accidentally knocking a picture from a shelf. The picture crashed to the floor.

  Leanne spun from the window. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

  Willie placed his ear to the door. The zombie standing at the head of the stairs began moving towards their direction. Willie could hear the heavy steps in the hall. Thud, thud, THUD…

  “It’s coming. Get that window open. We don’t have enough ammo to be fucking around.” Willie said quietly but firmly to Leanne.

  Nicholas moved to the other side of the door and took aim with his pistol.

  “Dad, what should we do?” Nicholas’s voice was shaky.

  “We’re getting out of here. Go help her with the window.” Willie answered still listening at the door. He checked the lock again.

  Nicholas joined Leanne at the window and helped her open it. With the lighter he could see a small ledge leading around the building. The storefront Costco sign sat on large brackets just off the ledge providing safe passage for a distance. Nicholas helped Leanne up first. The bottom of the window sat easily four feet off the floor. Leanne scurried out the window and stayed close to the wall. The ledge wasn’t very wide.

  “Dad, were good. Let’s go.”

  Willie left the door just as the zombie stopped outside. It heard the footsteps on the other side and began pushing on the wall next to the door. Willie quickly gave his son a boost out the window. Leanne stood on the ledge with the lit lighter. Nicholas realized how narrow the ledge was and instantly hugged the wall behind the sign.

  “Dad, be careful, the ledge is narrow.”

  Willie began to pull himself up when he heard a gunshot. He stopped and listened. He had thought the gang members had been slaughtered.

  “Shit, we have to get a move on.” Willie said pulling himself up to the ledge.

  The second shot was even louder. Outside the door, the gang leader fired his second shot and dropped the zombie at the office door. The sole survivor of his gang, Leo Gavin, bad snake tattoos and all, stood outside the office door. The hall was dark but Leo was lucky enough to find a flashlight, batteries included. He knew the others must have made their way upstairs, the only place left to flee, without running into a wall of the undead. In all the confusion, Leo couldn’t remember how many survivors ducked into the store.

  Willie pulled himself completely out the window and balanced on the ledge. Leanne and Nicholas made their way to the corner of the building leaving the safe confines from behind the sign. Around the corner a ladder spanning the side of the store from ground level to the roof awaited them. The bottom of the ladder was covered and locked deterring would-be climbers. Leanne grabbed the ladder and climbed to the top. Nicholas followed closely behind. Willie hugged the wall tightly and shuffled slowly. He would never admit to having a fear of heights. His vision began to blur and he felt as though the building was trying to push him away. He reached the corner and timidly extended his left arm, around the rough edge. He began to wave his arm looking for the safety of the ladder sitting mere inches beyond his grasp. He lost his balance and fell thirty feet to the ground landing on his side breaking his right arm and several ribs. Nicholas heard the fall and peered over the edge of the roof. The darkness swallowed up everything.

  “DAD!” Nicholas screamed out. “DAD!” he screamed again.

  Leanne rushed to Nicholas’s side looking at the ground below. It was impossible to see anything. She lit the lighter and found that it was useless from such a distance.

  “Shit, Nick I don’t see him.”

  “We have to get down there.” Nick jumped onto the ladder and began his decent before Leanne could stop him.

  ***

  Leo kicked in the door to the office. He spied the open window and the broken picture on the floor. The office looked abandoned so he walked to the window and cautiously poked his head out. He climbed out onto the ledge and moved to the left behind the large sign. Once past the safety of the sign, he had to stick his pistol and flashlight in his waistband to hug the wall. He found the corner of the building and felt his way through the darkness. He stopped when he heard moaning.

  Below the ledge, Willie was balled up on the ground feeling pain like none he had ever felt before. His lungs ached for air and there was a burning sensation on his right side. He tried to grasp his rib cage but found the pain emanating from the compound fractures his right arm suffered to great to bare.

  “Dad. Are you OK?” Nicholas had made it down to the ground and could see the outline of his father.

  “I…I’m peachy.” Willie said finding it hard to talk. He felt something warm in his mouth realizing it was blood. He vomited. The sound of his retching drew unwanted attention.

  Nicholas reached down and tried to help his father to his feet. Willie screamed out in pain and vomited again.

  “Go…now.” Willie said breathless. He knew his body was damaged beyond repair. The vomiting burned his insides and he could feel his breath slipping away.

  “No Dad. I’ll carry you.” Nicholas reached down and tried to lift his father to his feet. Willie let out a windless scream and grabbed at his son’s shirt. He pulled him in close with his left hand and whispered in his ear “I’m dead. You have to run.”

  Nicholas could hear moaning; shuffling and then he heard the runner. He leaned his father against the wall and turned with his .380 at the ready. In the darkness he could see flittering signs of movement.

  “Run…” Willie collapsed to the ground.

  Nicholas began his last stand. One shot, two shots, three. He emptied the small clip and slapped in the spare. More shots. He was good and the muzzle flash helped him sight
his next target. He quickly drained his last clip. He retrieved his father’s .38 and began firing. He was blindsided by a runner and thrown to the ground. He held onto the .38 and shot the runner in the head as his father cried out. In the ambient light he saw them piling onto his father. Their arms were flailing in the air pulling pieces of flesh from his father’s torso. They were coming from every direction. Nicholas sighted his last shot and placed the .38 slug neatly though his father’s temple ending his agony.

  “I’m sorry dad.” Nicholas closed his eyes tightly and cried as they closed in on him. He didn’t want to see them; he just wanted it to end.

  Leo heard the boy’s plea for his father. He balanced precariously against the wall and used the flashlight to see below. The dead swarmed over the two survivors and ripped them apart. Blood flowed freely covering the faces of the monsters below.

  “Sucks to be them.” Leo spotted the ladder and a sly smile came over his face.

  The rungs of the ladder were cold but that didn’t matter, at least he would be safe for a while on the roof. He climbed quickly and made the top rung. Just as his head popped over the edge of the roof he saw her, or at least the sole of her sneaker as she kicked him square in the face. The fall seemed to last forever. Fortunately it was broken by the horde of the undead. Unfortunately, they ate him alive. He was treated with the same indifference as Willie and Nicholas. He too had his limbs torn from his body, his internal organs feasted upon and eventually his head torn from his body. The last thing he saw was a lighter waving in the sky. It reminded him of the last concert he ever attended.

  Leanne stood on the roof, peering down to the ground. She knew Willie and Nick had died horribly, but so did the asshole that caused this predicament. Her mind shifted rapidly between thoughts of dismay to thoughts of survival. She had nobody with her, nobody to protect her and she had no weapons. The nighttime sky was crisp. She wondered if there was a way to escape this nightmare and get back to the camp where it was safe. Below, the zombies continued their feast. Leanne rested against an air conditioning unit looking out at the lights twinkling in the distance.