Welcome to Necropolis

by Bryan Killian

  Gates snapped his hand in the air signaling his men to move. Five armed men trotted down the stairs yelling out orders. The opportunity for mass chaos crept into the Convention Center but Gates and his men held the Center and its citizens together in an uncomfortable but cooperative state. Survivors slowly gave up their weapons and ammunition watching as the sentries gathered them in large duffle bags.

  Gates scrutinized the activity from the top of the staircase. He paid particular attention to the body language of the men and women who were surrendering their weapons and watched closely for any attempt to hide or conceal them. During the collection process a small handgun was missed.

  Within the hour we will be liberated and I will be looked at as a hero. Gates showed no emotion.

  Seventy

  “Come on, Katie, lets go!” Ty yelled out the lowered driver’s side window.

  Katie sprinted from the lower lobby feeling every bruise on her body. It didn’t help she was running in old Converse high tops on hard cement. She rounded the front of the idling truck spying movement out of the corner of her eye. A slow walking zombie had wandered into the garage and was making its way to the truck. Ty switched on the headlights snickering at the sight before him.

  The zombie, whom in its prior life must have been a chef since it still wore a white cooking apron, shambled along without arms. Ty continued to snicker as he slipped the Ford into drive.

  “You know, this may be easier than we thought.”

  “Don’t get too cocky, Ty. You said we have a long way to go. Buckle up.” Katie said shaking her head. Jess and Sugar remained in the back seat. Jess loaded more weapons ignoring the zombie. He was consumed with the firepower sitting at his side and couldn’t wait to start shooting.

  Ty drove passed the outstretched stumps of the slow moving zombie and exited the Bixter Building parking garage for the last time. He turned left on Hemstead Drive and headed for the east end of the city. The street was clear of vehicles while few zombies walked about. Ty looked in the mirror watching the Bixter Building grow smaller as he drove away. The Ford F-350 turned onto Cypress continuing east. Again Ty looked into the side mirror this time seeing a military Humvee several blocks back.

  “Shit, I hope they didn’t see us.” Ty said aloud.

  “What? Who?” Katie asked as she looked all around.

  “There’s an Army jeep thingy behind us. It’s a few blocks back.” Ty explained continuing to glance in the mirror. The conversation caught Jess’s attention. He rolled down his window and looked back.

  “That’s a Humvee. You better hope they didn’t see us because it has a roof-mounted machine gun.” Jess said sticking his head out the window.

  Ty looked through his side mirror as the Humvee turned up the street in pursuit.

  “Shit, they saw us.” Ty yelled, turning his attention to the road ahead of him. His eyes widened as an over-turned dump trailer and several zombies stood directly in his path. The road was blocked to the right leaving a slim opening to the left. Ty had one chance to maneuver around the blockage. He slammed the steering wheel to the left, feeling the pickup sink on the right side. The tires screeched and the rear end broke traction. The pickup slid hard ending up pointing directly west. Ty gunned the motor making a hard “U” turn and headed for the small opening to the left of the dump trailer. He heard a familiar voice screaming for him to stop. The sound of the voice failed to register in the heat of the moment. He kept his foot on the accelerator passing Jess standing on the side of the street.

  The crew cab door Jess had been leaning against gave way. He hit the pavement hard breaking his left wrist. He now stood on the side of Cypress Avenue trying in vain to gain the attention of his friend. The Ford rolled by not stopping. Jess stood staring at the rear of the pickup as it sped off. His left arm was useless. The compound fracture of his left wrist was bleeding heavily and the sight of bone protruding from the skin made him want to vomit. He gripped his wounded wrist kneeling down in excruciating pain. His ears filled with the sound of the Ford’s big engine fading away replaced by the sounds of the dead.

  All around him, they moved closer. Jess looked up seeing the moving horde closing in on him. His eyes began watering from the pain emanating from his wrist. He pulled the .40 caliber Glock from his waistline and fired looking for headshots through his blurred vision. Several of his shots missed their intended targets. He walked backwards, slowly continuing to fire until the slide locked open.

  Jess’s left hand was useless and he knew he couldn’t reload the Glock. He dropped it to the ground, looking for another weapon. No firearm, no knife, no stick. Jess picked up a large rock with his right hand and began swinging at the zombies. “Come on motherfuckers!” He struck several solid blows to the first zombie in front of him crushing its skull. He swung at the next in line. One, two, three solid strikes and the second zombie’s skull gave way. His chest burned as he gasped for air. He swung the rock slamming it down hard on the head of the third zombie. Its tongue was severed falling to the ground below. Jess lifted the rock again but dropped it as a zombie from behind sank its teeth into his right shoulder.

  The zombie removed a large piece of bloody flesh from Jess’s shoulder, swallowing it whole. Jess tried to shake the zombie from his back but couldn’t lessen the monsters grip. It ripped another piece of flesh from Jess’s neck gulping it down. Blood spurted from the wound causing Jess to fall to the ground. He felt the weight on his back screaming as more flesh was ripped away. Tears rolled down his face as he tore at the pavement with his right hand. His fingertips became a bloody mess as he attempted to escape the hungry undead. He screamed again as more flesh was removed from the back of his left leg. They piled on top consuming him. The last thing Jess saw before his last breath escaped his body was the side of a bloody Nike sneaker. I bet those were nice.

  “Ty stop. We lost Jess.” Katie yelled looking at the back seat seeing only Sugar’s face looking back at her. The passenger door was slightly ajar.

  Ty looked up at the rearview mirror but didn’t see his friend. He slammed the brakes and the pickup slid to a stop. The multiple zombies walking slowly towards them didn’t concern Ty. His only concern was Jess.

  “Wait here.” Ty said as he exited the pickup with a shotgun in hand. He instantly blew the head off of the zombie nearest him and ran to the over-turned dump trailer. He saw a large gathering of zombies. Ty ran as fast as he could towards the mass screaming for Jess to appear. The horde of zombies ripped blood-soaked flesh from Jess’s body failing to notice Ty’s approach.

  The blast from the shotgun tore through the dead. Several pellets penetrated skulls and destroyed the brains of the undead. Rotting bodies fell over onto Ty’s friend. He continued to fire until the trigger clicked loudly. He dropped the shotgun and removed his .357 and dispatched six zombies in a row with headshots. Below the mass of rotting flesh lay his friend. Ty dropped to his knees grabbing Jess’s hand. He pulled himself in closer, pushing bodies aside. He gently uncovered Jess’s head and bent down.

  “Jess I’m here. I’m sorry man. I didn’t…” Jess’s right hand grasped Ty’s leg. He lifted his head staring up at Ty with grey eyes. Ty backed away from Jess’s grip. He quickly reloaded his .357 as the sound of the approaching Humvee grew louder.

  “Sorry brother. See you on the other side.” Ty took aim and used one shot to end Jess’s second term on earth. The Humvee roared up the street and Ty ran as fast as he could for the Ford. He sprinted past several slow moving zombies and suddenly found himself in a foot race with a runner. As he approached the pickup he saw Katie standing at the rear motioning for him to get down. He instantly dropped to the pavement and heard the loud blast from the shotgun Katie held. He looked up and saw Katie smiling. He screamed like a girl when the headless body of the runner fell on his back.

  Ty scrambled to his feet flinging his arms. He turned with the intention of swinging on the zombie and was surprised to see the head missing. He looked up and saw the Hum
vee closing fast with a soldier manning the machine gun on the roof. Ty sprinted for the driver’s side door of the Ford. Within seconds he and Katie were speeding east on Cypress Avenue weaving between abandoned vehicles and groups of zombies. Sugar lay on the back seat sliding back and forth with every sharp turn. Holes appeared in the Ford’s cab as bursts from the Humvee’s machine gun rang forward.

  Seventy-One

  The caravan rolled into the main parking lot of the Convention Center with Hutto’s Humvee leading the way. He stepped out of the passenger side and walked between two decaying bodies. The smell of death was normal. Hutto turned his head from side to side watching his company stage perfectly in the parking lot. Armed sentries spread out and sharpshooters found cover. The vehicles personnel were fully in place. Hutto raised his hand signaling down the line. The men readied themselves. Hutto lifted a bullhorn to his mouth.

  “Citizens of Redding. This is Lt. Col. Hutto of the United States Army. We are here to help you take back your city. We have brought food, water, and other essentials.” Hutto continued his speech while the survivors listened intently.

  Gates stood at the top of the staircase with his men. “Leave your weapons behind. Remain calm and stay near me. I’ll lead the way. They simply want to get an accurate head count and they don’t want any bullshit. We’ll be going home soon.” Gates walked down the stairs clearing a path through the crowd. “This is it folks. We’re going home.” Gates said aloud to the weary survivors. Nervous chatter rose amongst the group followed by smiles and laughs. People patted each other on the back, hands were shook and hugs were given. Gates looked around the main floor smiling. “Are you guys ready?” The crowd unanimously said yes.

  Gates turned his back to the crowd and removed the satellite phone from his pocket. He clicked the green button waiting for Hutto to answer.

  “Are you prepared?” Hutto asked answering the phone.

  “Prepped and ready. All weapons are accounted for. I must say, I look forward to meeting you face to face.” The words from Gates’s mouth sank low in Hutto’s stomach. “Very good, bring them out.” Hutto sat down on the front seat of the Humvee allowing his second in command to proceed with the duties at hand.

  The men of Kilo Company set up two long tables and roped off a long straight row for the survivors to stand in. The soldiers kept their assault rifles slung while three soldiers manned large machine guns mounted on top of Humvee’s. They walked about casually with smiles on their faces showing no signs of hostility. Hutto looked up to the large front doors of the Convention Center and watched as they opened. He spotted Gates immediately and stepped out of the Humvee.

  The doors pushed open, revealing a bright day. The smell of rotting flesh permeated the air but the survivors didn’t care. The feeling of freedom was rushing through them. In front of them stood their fellow countrymen not walking abominations waiting to kill them and eat their flesh. Friendly soldiers waved them over to the tables where other soldiers waited with paperwork. Behind the soldiers several large coolers could be seen. One survivor and his wife hoped the coolers contained insulin.

  Gates stopped at the bottom of the stairs, recognizing most of the military vehicles. He scanned the grounds finding Hutto’s Humvee. Walking towards him was a short stocky man with graying hair. His uniform was nearly perfect and he walked with a certain stride Gates had seen before in ranking officers. The man smiled as he approached.

  ***

  Several soldiers stood just outside the ropes watching the people line up. Half way down the long line a young soldier stood. A Private First Class, for the past year and only nineteen years old, Garret Schroder survived the event and the sacking of several towns by simply blending in and remaining near the rear of any action. During the past three weeks Schroder’s nerves were past the breaking point. He knew his family was more than likely dead and he hadn’t heard from his girlfriend since the beginning of the infection. They all lived in Texas and the last he heard from the grapevine was all major metropolitan areas in Texas were lost. Schroder was from Dallas. His hands shook anticipating the second phase of the operation and sweat bead on his forehead. He reached up wiping his brow allowing his assault rifle to fall to the ground.

  “Damn it.” Schroder said, bending over to retrieve his rifle. As he looked up he spotted a semi automatic pistol in the hands of a citizen. Schroder’s thought process ceased and his composure deteriorated as he yelled, “GUN!” The bullets from Schroder’s assault rifle tore through the citizens standing just fifteen feet in front of him. The nine-year old boy whom held the toy gun fell dead to the ground, his small body riddled with bullets.

  Schroder continued to fire into the crowd. They ran in all directions. Some ducked or fell to the ground only to be trampled or shot to death. All the soldiers in the immediate area opened fire aiming into the crowded line of unarmed civilians. Hutto Stood near his Humvee shouting orders. They were lost in the swirl of deafening blasts escaping the multiple assault rifles. Gates rushed forward screaming at Hutto.

  “Cease fire…Cease their fire. They’re not armed…” By instinct, Hutto raised his sidearm, at Gates’s chest and pulled the trigger. The bullet broke through his sternum knocking the wind completely from his lungs and driving him to the ground. Gates lay there looking at the blue sky above. He gasped for air but found only blood. He struggled to stop the revolving thoughts quickly flashing through his mind and focused instead on his family. He didn’t want to leave this earth thinking about the military, world affairs or even baseball. His vision blurred, sparks fired in the corners of his eyes and the day grew brighter. He could see his family standing, waiting to greet him for the first time as a hero.

  Hutto turned his attention to the bedlam before him and continued to shout. Only this time he wasn’t shouting to cease fire, he was calling out execution orders.

  “Private, take that group to the left.” Hutto continued walking tall and calling out orders, occasionally firing upon an unarmed citizen himself. The remaining survivors ran in all directions away from the Convention Center and towards the waiting dead outside the parking lot. Inside the Center, six men, former sentries under Gates, raced for the roof where the stash of weapons lay. The whooping sound of helicopter blades nearby echoed throughout the Center, causing them to hesitate before stepping out onto the open roof.

  “We need those weapons and an escape route.” One time soldier Stanley Yonkey stated.

  “What about the helicopter? They’ll spot us for sure.” A second man said.

  The remaining men stood in the hall shaking their heads. The men mumbled amongst themselves as Yonkey pushed the roof access door open slightly spying the stash of weapons thirty feet away. He turned and said, “I didn’t unload my weapons, how about you guys?”

  ***

  Soldiers began to regroup and move with some uniformity. They searched the recently killed on the Convention Center grounds looking for those that had the potential to return. Sporadic shots rang out from the soldiers assault rifles. The few survivors to make it out of the area were of no concern to Hutto and Kilo Company. Maneuvers would resume within the next few days and the city would be cleared. It didn’t matter if a few extra zombies joined the mix. It just meant more target practice.

  On the roof, the remaining six sentries, once under the command of Col. Gates, plotted their next move. The Bell helicopter moved away from the rooftop allowing them the opportunity to regain their weapons. Yonkey pushed the door open and ran to the stash of weapons followed by the others. They grabbed their own weapons and others as well.

  “I say we make a run for it out the back. Head for the access road near the rodeo grounds and through the old cemetery.” Yonkey stated in between catching his breath.

  “Are you crazy? What about the zombies?” A fellow sentry asked.

  “There’s no zombies in the cemetery. The people in there have been dead for years. Hell, that may be the safest place on earth right now.” Yonkey responded, still brea
thing hard.

  The men looked at each other, trying to make sense of what Yonkey said. The sound of soldiers moving on the main floor made its way to Yonkey and his fellow sentries. They snatched up their weapons and made their way down the rear stairs to the kitchen and out through the receiving dock doors. Yonkey stopped at a side door peeking outside. No soldiers, no zombies, the coast was clear. The men moved down the dock swiftly stopping at the edge of the building. In front of them lay open land for hundreds of yards. The old rodeo grounds stood at the end flanked by a steep hill.

  “I don’t think I can make it.” A heavyset sentry said.

  “Let’s move to the east and follow the tree line. It’ll keep us out of sight for a short time.” Yonkey said pointing towards the Sacramento River.

  “That’s all fine and dandy but what the fuck are we going to do if we escape this place?” Another man asked from the back of the group.

  “I have no idea, but I’m not hanging around here to be executed.” Yonkey answered as he squatted to stretch his legs.

  “Fuck it. Lets go.”

  Within seconds, the men were sprinting for the tree line. They made it unseen and began navigating between the pines and thick brush along the riverbank. The heavyset sentry brought up the rear breathing heavy. The five men ahead didn’t turn back to look for him. “Every man for himself” was quickly becoming the theme of the escape. The five sentries pulled away from the larger man. His chest felt as though it was going to burst. He had to stop as the pain in his side became unbearable. He leaned against a large tree trunk bending over. Air slowly filled his lungs helping to replenish his stamina. He stood and straightened his back against the tree trunk. He closed his eyes tight and wiped sweat from his brow. One more deep breath and he pushed away from the tree. He met the gaze of a heavily decayed zombie upon opening his eyes. Its skin had turned blackish and strips of dried meat hung from its unclothed body. Maggots had long ago abandoned the dried meat. Its mouth opened wide revealing the stub of meat that once was its tongue. The top row of blackened teeth sank deep into the shocked man’s chest ripping through his shirt and into his flesh. He swung wildly knocking the zombie to the ground. Its emaciated body was light and easily thrown. The man backed away from the creature grasping his chest. He removed his hand and looked at the blood smear on his fingertips.