Run (Book 2): The Crossing

by Rich Restucci

Crisp pointed at the door the undead had been congregated at. It was a steel fire door, probably with a bar handle on the other side that the dead had been unable to negotiate because it opened toward them, “That leads to the common room, through another short corridor and then another door.” Stenner moved toward the door but Crisp put his hand on his shoulder. “There could be some on the other side.”

  He nodded. “Where does this go?” He used his weapon to point behind them down the other side of the T.

  “The kitchen, cafeteria, and the PX. Both have everything we need.”

  “I don’t like this, that door could open at any time and spill the whole common room on us,” the younger soldier said.

  “Agreed. We can’t recon the PX until we secure this door. Options?”

  The kid thought for a second. “It opens this way so we can’t block it.” He raised his eyebrows. “What about welding it closed?”

  “Got a welder on you?”

  “I do,” the doctor said, “not on me but back at the lab. There’s an S.M.A.W we used for making the steel tables longer.

  The army men looked at each other, then at Crisp. “You have a SMAW? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Shielded-metal arc welder? It’s a welder, isn’t that what you asked for? It will seal that door for certain.”

  The military men chuckled lightly. “Shoulder-launched, multi-purpose assault weapon. SMAW,” Stenner whispered

  Crisp looked confused.

  “Big damn rocket launcher? Forget it. We hump back to the others, report, get the welder and seal the door. We can seal the door to the common room in the lab module first.”

  “We haven’t fully reconned this area, Stenner.”

  “Agreed, but we can’t seal that door and I don’t want fifty of those damn things on us while we’re in the kitchen.”

  “Me neither,” Wilcox said nodding. “Let’s book.”

  57

  “Twenty kilos at least.”

  “On a 510?”

  “Yeah, he was already done wiring when we came to report.”

  The SEALs, Rick, Dallas, Anna, and Bob stood in a small circle while the scientists worked. Rick let out a grunt. “So what now then?”

  “Twenty kilos of Semtex will certainly open that oak door,” Androwski chimed while he rubbed his chin in thought, “but the roof of the common room was, what, five meters high, and the walls maybe twenty meters apart?” Nods all around. “So the explosion will dissipate through the air, the only problem is it has no place to go while we’re underground.”

  Seyfert saw the looks on the faces of the civilians. “He means the explosion might bring down the roof.”

  “I’m more concerned with it throwing the door frames out of whack such that we can’t close them.”

  Stenner’s group returned huffing right then, and relayed the information about the doors to the PX module and the fact that they didn’t complete their reconnoiter.

  “So we weld the door to the PX module closed, then fortify it. Then we do the same to the living quarter’s module.” Androwski looked at Crisp. “Will that seal us in?”

  “Yes. The power station is under the lab module. All the techs are either dead, or down in it though. Oh, and there were several people that made it into the living quarters, although I was the only one to make it to the labs.”

  “Then we seal ourselves in and go door to door.”

  “Um, hello,” interjected Bob. “What about the explosives? Boom remember?”

  “We need to worry about things we can change first. There are what, sixty Limas between us and the elevator? That prick will want to drive the 510 right up to the door before he blows it. The Limas will get in the way, so we have maybe a half hour.”

  “So somebody has to go out there and stop that robot then right?”

  “You wouldn’t get out the door. The only thing you would achieve is letting the Limas in. We would never be able to close the door once you opened it.”

  Bob shook his head. “We have both sets of keys now. We can close the blast doors at the elevator, and the robot can’t get down here. I’ve seen those doors tested, and I don’t care how much explosives that dude has, he won’t scratch those doors.”

  “Boy, we ain’t gettin’ back into that there common room without our asses gettin’ chewed off.”

  “I can,” Bob said sheepishly.

  58

  “Are you sure about this,” demanded Androwski.

  “Hell no. Absolutely not. No way… Let’s do it.”

  Bob had launched into a story about how undead Tim never got agitated or even seemed to care that Bob was in the room. Bob had tied him up when he died, but Tim never made so much as a sound, and never once struggled against his duct tape bonds until the SEALs had entered the server room. “I still didn’t have the stones to go come down here with all the zombies though,” he admitted, “and there was nothing up above I needed for at least another couple months. I never took the tape off of poor Tim’s mouth, but during the initial outbreak I saw dozens of videos of zombies that were chained or tied to something, and they did everything they could to break out and eat whoever was near. Tim never did that once. Then, when you guys said that you knew a guy that the zombies wouldn’t touch, I thought long and hard about Tim and how he never tried to chomp on me. I must be immune too.”

  “You think.”

  “Yeah, I think. I would say let’s test the theory, but the clock is ticking.”

  Androwski and Rick stood at the hermetic security door with an extremely nervous Bob, who seemed to be looking everywhere at once. Rick pressed the intercom button and said hello. There was no response from the other side other than the distant thuds of undead fists on wood. “They don’t seem to be in yet,” Rick said. Everyone who had a weapon had it aimed at the door when Rick opened it wide. No undead were in the corridor yet, but the door at the end of the hall was already beginning to show signs of failing.

  Androwski handed Bob a suppressed MK23 handgun with three extra magazines. He had already shown the computer guy how to fire and re-load it. “They should flood this corridor the second you open the door and get confused when there are no food sources,” the SEAL said. “Get past them and to the elevator and lock us down. Get back to this corridor and thin them out with your weapon, then close the far door again and get back in here. Move as quickly as possible without drawing attention, and if you panic, they will probably tear you apart. I know we’ve already discussed this, but once I close this door, I won’t open it again until there are none of them left moving between the doors. Good luck.”

  Bob swallowed hard and nodded.

  The steel security door closed with a whoosh. “Just like Star Trek,” the terrified man said and moved to the end of the corridor.

  Bob put his hand on the doorknob but hesitated. “I’m dead either way, I’m dead either way,” he chanted in his head. He turned the knob and the push-lock popped. He stepped back and out of the way as several dead people stumbled into the room and walked right past him searching. He didn’t go unnoticed for long though, and within seconds one of the things snarled and lunged for him. Bob didn’t move. He didn’t raise his pistol or scream or try to run. All of those things did nothing as the freshly killed man clad in black camouflage grabbed him by the wrist and leaned in to bite. Bob closed his eyes and waited to be torn asunder, but the bites never came. He opened his eyes and looked. Twelve dead eyes stared at him, but he focused on the face of the thing that had him by the wrist. If it were possible for a severely lacerated face to show need and confusion at the same time, this creature had pulled it off. Bob thought the thing looked pissed off with its feral expression until it and all of its friends just moved away. Unfortunately, the dead man didn’t let go of Bob’s arm, and it began to pull him along with it as if trying to bring him to something of great importance. The thing’s grip was like iron, but Bob rolled his wrist inward and forced the zombie to let go of him. It didn’t look back as it
lurched about looking for prey, a gas mask dangling from its tactical webbing.

  The creatures still filed into the corridor, but none had decided that the steel door at the far end held any goodies, and they milled about seemingly aimless. Bob knew better. He knew their aim. The living man was unable to get through the constant stream of ambulatory dead through the portal, so he tentatively shoved. Two of the things fell down and started to get up, but Bob was committed now, and shoved some more. He was able to gain access to the common room, but immediately wished to be behind the protection of the steel door. At least fifty creatures reeled and staggered about. Bob did the same. He moved at a slow walk toward the elevator lobby. Some of the things noted the way he moved, and came to investigate, but they all moved away after coming within a meter or so.

  Bob reached the access door and slipped though.

  59

  “Jesus, he made it,” Seyfert said and tapped the monitor. “I would have bet against that crazy kid.”

  Androwski was still frowning. “Well, if he’s legit, and doesn’t try to kill us like Phil did, then he’s earned a spot.”

  “Who’s Phil?” Crisp asked.

  “Tell you later.” Seyfert pressed a button on the monitor until they could see Bob in the elevator lobby. The only creature in the lobby with him was the one they had dealt with when they got down there, and she wasn’t moving. Bob pushed one of the round keys into the appropriate slot, then moved to do the same with the other key. After he had the second key inserted, he tried to turn it, but it wouldn’t move. He returned to the first key but it wouldn’t move either. Bob ran to the elevator lobby desk and began searching for something. He leaned over and began doing something frantically with his right hand. Bob ran to the camera and held up a hand-written note for the people in the security room to see:

  “Need to turn both keys at the same time! Can’t reach!”

  “Jesus, he can’t do it,” Seyfert breathed. Bob sat down in the desk chair and put his head in his hands. Just as quickly as he sat down, he sprang back up and ran to the elevator. He began removing his shoes.

  “What the hell is he doing now?” Rick demanded as he stared at the screen. Bob was removing his shoelaces. The group tucked safely in the security room watched in amazement as Bob tied his shoelaces together and then tied one end to one of the keys. Moving quickly to the second key, he strung out the now single lace behind him. Head bobbing three times as if counting, he attempted to turn the key and pull the shoe lace at the same time. It wouldn’t go. He pulled harder and harder until the lace snapped.

  The phone rang on the desk next to Seyfert, who immediately answered it, “Hey, I’m having some technical difficulties with this 510 bot, do you know how to make it go down stairs? I just tried and…” Seyfert hung up.

  “Well?” demanded Androwski

  “Spook being a dick.”

  They all watched as Bob, shoeless, sprinted back into the common room. Seyfert switched feeds until they found him. He was surrounded by undead, all reaching for him. He remained motionless, and the creatures all stopped once again and ambled off. Visibly shaken, he positioned himself behind one of the dead soldiers in black and drew his suppressed Sig. He aimed the weapon at the back of the creature’s skull and then froze. He looked at the weapon as if it were broken, shook his head and released the safety catch. Bob fired one suppressed round into the thing’s cranium and it collapsed to the floor. The effect on the other creatures was immediate. Every one of them instantly became hyper-agitated, although they didn’t know in which direction to move as the suppressor had created confusion. Bob stood stock-still as the things searched, and only after a full minute of pants-shitting stillness did he move. He began removing the dead man’s tactical webbing and searching through it. He stood up and carried the webbing back to the elevator lobby, and Seyfert switched back to the lobby feed on the monitor. Bob was attaching the webbing to the left side key. He stretched it out across the elevator door reaching for the other key with his extended right hand. The group viewing Bob on the monitor watched in horror as a dead girl in filthy pajamas lurched into the room and came directly at the man’s back. Either unaware or focused, Bob didn’t turn around. He pulled on the webbing and turned his key at the same time the dead girl put her hand on his right shoulder.

  Two things happened right then, Bob whipped around and pushed the girl away, and an alarm klaxon began to sound throughout the entire facility. An emergency light dropped from the ceiling and illuminated the small lobby in a red glow. Shortly after, a steel wall began descending in front of the closed elevator doors. The rumble of the door machinery was loud and steady as compared to the Bah… Bah… Bah of the klaxon. Holding his left hand in his right, Bob ran back to the door only to be confronted by a steady stream of the undead as they flooded into the room searching for the source of the rumbling sound. The living man stood to the side of the door and let the dead come in. They began beating on the descending wall, and Seyfert was happy to see that three of the creatures were crushed as three tons of tungsten steel alloy moved relentlessly downward.

  The lobby filled quickly, and Bob moved out the door, closing it behind him. Seyfert switched the feed again, and noticed that eleven dead people still milled about in the common room. They approached Bob as he moved the couch back against the door with the broken lock. He stood to the side and let them come, his eyes wide. Once again, the things stopped short and began to mill about in different directions. All but one. It had been an elderly man, perhaps in his seventies, but it was big, and towered over the little computer technician. It stared down at him, and he back at it. It reached for him and Bob side-stepped, but the thing would not be deterred. Bob moved toward the corridor, and the safety of the steel door, and the thing followed at as brisk a pace as its dead legs would allow. The man turned and used both palms to shove the elderly zombie away as he had done the young girl minutes before. This time the creature went absolutely ape-shit, and started a horrible caterwauling that set the others in the room off doing the same thing. They all moved at Bob at a quicker pace than he thought possible, and he broke and ran for the corridor door.

  “Chief, get the fucking door open! The jig is up! They’re almost on him and the corridor is clear!” Seyfert’s voice screamed over the radio. Androwski, Rick, and Dallas were waiting at the steel door when the call came through, and the SEAL immediately began to open it. The door opened out, and when the three men rushed into the corridor, they saw Bob at the end of the hall pushing against the heavy oaken door to the common room. The old man zombie had the upper right side of his torso in the door, and Bob was fighting to keep the dead man and his friends on the other side. It was a losing battle, and the door was moving forward. The back of the door on Bob’s side was slick with blood and Bob was moving slowly but steadily backwards.

  Rick was the first down the hall, and he threw himself against the door to help Bob. They heard ribs crack as the undead in the door was pinched, but the thing paid no heed, and continued to reach around, grabbing Rick by the shirt.

  “Not today, pard!” Dallas yelled, and smashed his rebar into the side of the zombie’s head, clearly fracturing its jaw, but the thing stood its position howling that mournful sound.

  Androwski took up a firing position six meters away as Dallas whacked again, this time killing or knocking the big dead man out. He didn’t fall, but was held up by the door and the frame. Several hands reached around their fallen brother to get at the meat on the other side of the portal. Dallas lent his considerable weight to pushing on the door, but Androwski noticed that there was no way it would ever close with the dead man stuck in it and several others pushing on it. “On three, I want you guys to run back towards me and get behind me. We’re gonna let them in and fall back to the lab! One, two, THREE!”

  The men let go and sprinted back down the corridor as four ex-Massachusetts folks spilled through the doorway, falling to the floor. In single-fire mode, Androwski fired before the things
could rise, re-killing three, but there were more behind, and they began to file into the corridor, moaning and lurching. The radio blared to life: “Andy, get the hell out of there, they’re coming from the elevator lobby now! Get back inside!”

  Androwski clicked empty and reached for another magazine only to find he had none. Letting his MP5 dangle on its single point sling, he pulled his side arm and chose targets. The boom of Dallas’ shotgun next to him made him miss his third shot, and Rick began firing as well. “Get the fuck back inside the lab dammit, I’m right behind you!”

  “Door’s locked, boss,” Dallas’ bass drawl roared. “You gots the keycard!” The shotgun went off again, and Rick kept firing his M4.

  “Keep them off of us for five seconds!” Androwski stood and sprinted the fifteen feet back to the steel door, cursing himself for a fool. He fumbled with the card for the door as his friends fired into the growing crowd. “Fall back ten feet!” he heard Rick scream. The door wouldn’t open.

  “What the Hell! It won’t open!” Androwski started pulling on the door. “Seyfert, the damn door won’t open with the card,” he screamed into the radio.

  Rick stopped to jam in a fresh magazine. “Androwski, it’s getting real up here!”

  “I know!” Androwski fumbled with the door for another second and then turned around drawing his sidearm again. The creatures were less than four meters away from his friends, and he ran up and joined them on the line picking targets. Three shots in, he heard through the ringing in his ears, Private Wilcox behind him screaming to get in the door.

  “Fall back! Fall back!”

  Rick and Bob turned and fled. Dallas tried, but a dead man lunged forward, and a rotted hand grabbed the back of Dallas’ XXL BDUs. The huge Texan pulled the scrawny dead thing, towing it down the hallway.

  Wilcox aimed his M16 at Dallas and fired once, the creature falling off of Dallas. The Texan was the last through the door, and both Wilcox and Androwski slammed it shut.