Zomb-Pocalypse 2

by Megan Berry

  Then it’s my turn to pause. I could swear I heard the faintest whisper of a voice on the wind.

  Silas is watching me. “You heard it too,” he says, and it’s not really a question. Silas stands up, shedding the blue tarp, and I follow him on shaky legs. He’s scanning the horizon, out past the zombies for any sign of human life, any chance we could be rescued.

  I look too, but I don’t see anything.

  “Hey!” The voice is female, and it’s much louder this time. We spin in all directions, but again we see nothing.

  “Up here.”

  I feel foolish, but I look up, squinting against the icy rain that’s practically blinding me.

  “Silas,” I whisper and prod him with my elbow. Both of the guys look up, and we all stand there in shock.

  “I’ll be damned,” Silas murmurs, and I agree. That about sums up what I’m thinking too as I look at the faces of the five people who are hanging over the ledge of the roof to stare down at us.

  “Hang on,” they tell us, before disappearing back over the edge.

  Chapter Two

  Somehow sensing more warm, fleshly bodies in the area, the moans of the dead grow even louder as they surge up against the dumpster, making it rock like crazy.

  Above us, the people on the roof are struggling to lower a long aluminum ladder. Silas reaches up when the ladder gets close enough to grab, and he guides it down so that the legs rest on the dumpster lid. The ladder isn’t quite tall enough to reach the top.

  “Jane, you go first!” Ryan yells to be heard over the moans and growls. My stomach clenches; I am not a fan of heights. It isn’t that I’m necessarily afraid of them, but this ladder doesn’t seem the least bit safe and I’m terrified of nosediving fifteen feet down into a crowd of hungry zombies.

  “Not so fast,” Silas says, putting his hand up to block my shaky steps towards the ladder.

  “What are you doing?” Ryan demands with an angry look on his face.

  “Have you even thought about this?” Silas challenges. “We don’t know who these people are. We can’t just send Jane up the ladder first. How do we know they won’t throw the ladder off the roof and keep her for God knows what?”

  Ryan’s face falls. “I didn’t think of that,” he says quietly, so quietly I can’t even hear him, but I know what he said from reading his lips.

  “I’ll go first,” Ryan volunteers, his face firming with his resolve. Silas stares at him for a moment and then finally nods.

  The people on the roof are waving like crazy for us to hurry, and Ryan’s first step up the ladder makes my heart dip in fear. Silas grasps the bottom of the ladder to keep it steady. Up on the roof, people lean dangerously over the edge to keep hold of the top of the ladder.

  The zombies, oblivious to it all, or perhaps on purpose, press against the dumpster and howl harder, making the ladder jostle from side to side.

  “Holy shit,” I murmur, stuffing my fist against my mouth to keep from screaming as I watch Ryan get half way up the ladder before it shifts suddenly. Ryan’s footing slips, but he manages to clutch a rung for dear life.

  “Go faster!” Silas shouts up at him, and even through the rain I see Ryan nod. He’s heard him.

  Ryan picks up his pace and quickly reaches the top of the ladder. I hold my breath. This is the most dangerous part. Two bigger men reach over the edge, grasp Ryan by his wrists, and begin to pull him up.

  The dumpster rocks wildly, and I’m forced to kneel down to keep from getting pitched off. I don’t know how Silas stays upright. The metal creaks, protesting the force of so many bodies pressing in, and I accidentally gulp down rain water as my mouth gapes open.

  Silas and I wait, holding our collective breath until we see Ryan poke his head over the top and he gives us the thumbs up. He joins the two men in leaning dangerously over the edge to hold the ladder in place.

  “You’re up,” Silas says to me, and with fear shaking me to my very core, I grip the cold ladder in my hands and start to climb. It’s crazy how much a couple weeks can change you. Before the zombies, I would have laughed in anyone’s face who even suggested I do such a dangerous thing. No one is laughing now though. It’s climb this ladder or die.

  I try to ignore everything, like the fact that there’s a hungry hoard of zombies below me like a rolling sea of restless, rotting flesh. I ignore the fact that I’m climbing a good twenty feet up into the air. The rain beats me in the face as I go, also making the ladder slippery. The ladder itself sways and creaks every time the dumpster gets rocked, but I try to block it all out and focus on putting each foot and hand in front of the other.

  I run out of ladder, but I’m still several feet from the actual top. This gap looked a lot smaller from down below. Up close it’s like the yawning mouth of the Grand Canyon.

  I’m staring at a wall of rough brick, not sure what to do next, when Ryan grabs hold of me. He wraps his hand around my wrist, and I instinctively grip the ladder tighter. I’m still trying to convince myself to let go and trust him when someone I don’t know grabs my other wrist and peels my hand roughly off the ladder. They start to haul me up, my wrists uncomfortably forced to take the weight of my entire body. I feel them pop and creak. For a moment, the crazy idea that the bones might actually snap and send me falling flashes through my mind. When I get a little closer, a third guy grabs me around the waist and helps them pull me over the edge. I only let myself draw a breath as I’m deposited, on my knees, on the sodden roof of the mall.

  I look up and see four people huddled together under an umbrella, staring at me with wide eyes. I ignore them and stand up on shaky legs. I might be safe for the moment, but Silas isn’t. I have to see if Ryan needs my help.

  Ryan is back to being half-twisted over the edge with the other two men, all of them completely focused on Silas down below. I stand far enough away that I won’t be in their way, but I can still see what’s happening. Silas starts his climb, but there’s no one left at the bottom to hold the ladder, and with the zombies jostling, it’s bad.

  Acid rises up in my throat, and my heart hammers like crazy. “It’s too dangerous!” I shout to be heard over the rain and the zombies. As though to prove me right, the ladder jerks violently to one side. All three of the guys at the top have to use everything they have to keep it from falling.

  When the ladder is finally steadied, Silas is six feet up, less than half way, and each step forward makes the ladder even more unstable. I look down at the determined look on Silas’ face and know that he’s feeling reckless.

  “Get some rope!” one of the guys leaning over the edge yells out. He sounds winded as he struggles to hold the ladder in such an uncomfortable position. I look over my shoulder and see two people run and start digging through a pile of supplies that they’d brought with them. The rope is covered, so I turn my attention back to Ryan and our other two saviors.

  All three of them have bright red faces from exertion. Even though it’s raining, I can tell they’re sweating. Not only is this a dangerous situation, but now I’m terrified these guys won’t be able to hold on for much longer.

  A much smaller man, who’d been huddled in with the women under the umbrella, runs forward and hands the big guy the rope. The small guy takes his place holding the swaying ladder, and I don’t trust him as far as I could throw him…which might actually be a little ways, considering how small he actually is. I run over and push in beside Ryan to help take up the slack.

  I’m stunned by the weight of the ladder, even with three other people holding it. I instantly feel strain on my lower back, and I have to struggle to fight off the dangerous pull towards the edge. Ryan gives me a grateful smile of encouragement that helps to strengthen my resolve, and then all of our attention is back on Silas. Silas climbs another rung, and I actually grunt at the pressure. The big guy quickly knots the rope and then presses it into my arms. At the same time, he pushes me and Shrimpy out of the way and takes his place back.

  “Throw it down to him
,” the big guy instructs me, and I carefully lower the rope down to Silas, who catches it and loops it around his head and shoulders until it’s tied securely under his arm pits. “Tie the other end of the rope to some of that piping over there,” the guy shouts again when he’s satisfied that Silas has secured his end. I spring into a run, with the rope in hand, my eyes on the cold metal pipe sticking up out of the roof like it’s a lifeline—because, for Silas, it literally is.

  I’m so close that my fingers actually brush the pipe when a burning pain blossoms across my palm. The burn is so intense that it’s a full second before I realize the rope has been yanked out of my hand.

  “No!” The scream is ripped from me as I lunge for it, landing hard against the cement on my belly, but it’s too late. I watch as the end of the rope whips towards the group gathered at the edge of the roof and disappears between their legs.

  I get up and stand rooted to the spot, shaking. I’ve killed him. The rope wouldn’t have pulled like that unless Silas fell. I burst into tears and sink back down to my knees. I cover my face with my hands and sob. I’ve lost a lot of people since this whole asshole mess started, but Silas is the first one that I’ve actually killed. I think about all the zombies at the bottom and pray that he somehow died on impact and didn’t have to feel all those tearing bites rip him apart.

  I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder and shrug it off. I don’t deserve Ryan’s pity, or his kind words. I deserve to follow Silas over the edge of this building.

  “Jane.” He has to call out several times before I’m able to absorb what I’m actually hearing. I look up through eyes that blur from tears and see Silas standing over me. “I didn’t know you cared so much,” he says with a small, crooked grin. He’s grinning, but I can tell he’s actually trying to cover up his embarrassment at my reaction.

  He pulls me to my feet and frowns when he runs his thumb over my cheek and it comes away red with blood. “What happened?” he asks, and I’m still so stunned that he’s alive that I can only shrug. I have no idea where the blood came from.

  Silas gently grabs my hand and holds it palm up; his face twists with anger. I look down to see what he’s looking at.

  “Jane…” Ryan says, coming up beside us, but he doesn’t finish his sentence when his gaze lands on my hand. He swallows visibly.

  “I let go of the rope,” I whisper, feeling nothing when I look at my torn, bloodied palm.

  “It’s okay,” Ryan tries to reassure me. “I caught it when I noticed it snaking around my feet. I got my foot on the rope and someone else managed to get a hold of it.”

  I nod at his explanation but still don’t say anything.

  “You folks sure like your excitement,” a booming voice says behind us, and as one, we turn to see the big guy who pretty much single-handedly saved us all.

  “That was a little too much excitement for me,” Silas admits, giving us all a weary smile.

  “We should get out of the rain before we catch our deaths,” one of the women says, interrupting. The big guy looks at us with an assessing gaze, sizing us up, debating if we’re dangerous, before he nods towards the rooftop door.

  “After you guys.” It makes me nervous when he follows behind us, and I know that Silas doesn’t like it either. We still have our guns and knives though, and besides a knife strapped to the one guy’s waist, I don’t see any of them with a visible weapon. If this does go bad, hopefully we’ll have the advantage.

  The door leads to a long, dark staircase, and Silas pauses before stepping over the threshold. Ryan and I follow his lead. “Has this place been cleared out?” he asks, and the group nods.

  “The mall was closed when the zombies came. We were pretty lucky. It was just us in here.”

  “What were you doing here?” Ryan asks, and I’m grateful for his curiosity. I’m wondering the same thing.

  “We were the night crew. Some of us were janitorial, others were stocking shelves in some of the stores.” The people in front of us snap on a flashlight and begin walking as they talk.

  We don’t have much of a choice except to trust them, so we follow.

  “You guys really saved our asses out there. Thank you,” Ryan says as we continue to descend the stairs in silence.

  The stairs and surrounding area are all concrete, and our voices and footsteps echo eerily.

  “No problem man, we’re just happy we were able to help,” the big guy says as he pads along behind us.

  We come to a door, and the people ahead of us push through it, not looking overly concerned that there might be zombies on the other side.

  My hand twitches towards the pistol strapped to my waist, but I resist grabbing it. I don’t want to scare these people and cause a fight to break out. I see Silas’s hand get a lot closer to his own holster and feel less like a crazy person to know that he’s bracing for zombies too.

  We emerge from the dark, cramped staircase into a wide open mall. I press my back against the wall as I look around. The lights are off, but there’s a huge skylight that lets light in on a bunch of tropical plants positioned at the center of a fountain.

  It’s kind of like we just walked into the twilight zone. Most of the storefronts are covered up with huge metal gates, but a couple are open.

  The group nods towards a furniture store further down that doesn’t have a gate blocking its access. “We’ve been holed up in the furniture store.” The big guy pauses and looks us over before his eyes settle on Silas. “I’m Jamie by the way,” he says, holding his large, meaty hand out. Silas hesitates for a moment before reaching out and shaking it.

  “Silas,” he tells him. He motions to us. “This is Jane and Ryan.” Jamie nods.

  “Nice to meet you,” he says, and I have to suppress a crazy urge to giggle. He’s very polite for the end of the world, but then, maybe I’m just too used to Silas’ rough demeanor.

  “The others are Chico, Molly, Spence, Ryder, Juanita, and Bailey,” Jamie lists his companions off and each person waves at their name. I remember that the other guy who saved us is named Chico, and the skinny guy is Ryder, but none of the other names stick for now. I’m coming down from a huge adrenaline spike, and I’m really starting to feel the cold. It contrasts sharply with the burning pain in my hand.

  We reach the furniture store, and the group shows us the small camp they’ve made by pushing a bunch of mattresses close to one another in a group. They even have bedding from scavenging the home outfitter store next door. I’m amazed by the stockpile of food they have just sitting around, and my stomach growls when I see it. All I want to do is dive in and fill my belly, but I need to get out of these wet clothes first. It feels like my blood is starting to turn to ice.

  One of the women hands us each a towel, and I wrap it around my shoulders gratefully. “You’ll have to find a change of clothes in one of the stores. I don’t think I have anything that will fit you,” she says, eying my thin frame with a frown.

  I wrap the towel around myself tighter. I’ve always been thin, but these last couple weeks on the road, I’ve probably dropped another ten pounds. I haven’t missed the way my rib cage sticks out now, or the way my pants have gotten looser.

  “I’ll take you if you want,” she offers and I nod, jumping at the chance to get into some dry clothes.

  “We’ll all go,” Silas says as he and Ryan get up to follow me. Jamie comes along too, probably because he doesn’t trust us either.

  After passing a shoe store and a jewellers, we find a store that fits our needs.

  The woman, Molly, stays close, chatting away about nothing while the guys spread out to the men’s department. I notice that they both keep me within their line of sight as they move around the store, and it makes me feel safe.

  I flip through a couple racks before finding a comfortable pair of jeans, a thermal undershirt, and a warm hoodie.

  I grab a new pack of underwear and a pair of thick fuzzy socks as I make my way to the dressing room. It gets darker as I go deeper int
o the store, and anxiety starts creeping up my spine like a great big spider, making my skin goose pimple. I start to lose my nerve though I sternly remind myself that zombies don’t hide, and these people have been living here for two weeks without incident.

  I pull my flashlight out and aim it into the back where the change rooms are located. I take one step and then lose my nerve. I duck behind a rack of clothes instead and quickly strip. I force my ice cold legs through the jeans and struggle to get them up because I’m still wet and clammy.

  “Jane?” I hear Ryan’s voice, and it sounds like it’s coming closer. I freeze, crouched down behind the clothes, topless, my heart pounding.

  “I…I’m just getting dressed. Stay over there!” I call out, just as I see the beam of his flashlight coming my way. He instantly clicks the light off and turns around, and I have to smile despite my embarrassment.

  “Sorry. I was too freaked out to go into the change room.” I admit as I hurriedly finish up. I hear his throat clear uncomfortably, but he doesn’t say anything else. I would never admit my fear to Silas, he would only judge me, but not Ryan. Ryan is the dictionary definition of a nice guy

  I almost moan in euphoria when I slip my ice cold toes into the thick pink socks, I only allow myself a second to enjoy it, and then I’m on my feet gathering my stuff up in my arms. I go to slip my toes into my shoes but stop when I realize how wet they are. My new sock gets wet on the bottom, and I curl my lip up in annoyance as I pull my foot out as quickly as possible.

  I choose to carry my shoes instead, and I emerge from behind the rack to find Ryan with his back turned towards me. “You can look now,” I say with a laugh, and he turns and blasts me with one of his mega-watt smiles, making me feel all gooey inside.

  I sharply remind myself that this is the zombie apocalypse and not my senior prom. “I’m gonna need some new shoes until these ones dry out,” I tell him to distract myself from my emotions, and he holds out a plastic bag for my clothes. “Thanks,” I say, noticing that he’s already in dry clothes too—a pair of jeans and a hoodie with a dark down vest overtop.