Dead Air (Book One of The Dead Series)

by Schafer, Jon

  An hour later, the man who lived two houses down from Stephanie finally talked himself into investigating. Finding her door open and pools of blood in the foyer, he called out, asking if she was all right but got no reply.

  Tightly gripping the pistol he carried, he side stepped the blood and moved into the house. A noise from the darkened hall on the right caught his attention so he stopped and called out again in that direction.

  The door at the end of the corridor was open and light filtered in to silhouette a hunched over figure that came to the entrance. After a short pause, it started to shuffle toward him.

  The good citizen had heard the stories on the news and had read the reports on the Internet so he knew what to do, but first he had to make sure that the person coming toward him was dead.

  As Stephanie advanced on him, she came into the light from the living room. Seeing the missing chunks of flesh on her neck, the fingers that had been bitten off and an arm that had been stripped to the bone of flesh and muscle, this was all he needed.

  Raising his pistol, he took careful aim and squeezed off two rounds into Stephanie's head, throwing the now nearly decapitated body back several feet.

  Taking a deep breath, he backed away while keeping his pistol trained down the hallway, deciding that whoever did this might still be here. All he wanted to do was to get back to his own house and barricade himself inside. No more trying to help anyone, just look out for himself and the hell with everybody else.

  He made it all the way to the front door leading into the night and safety when he realized that he had been holding his breath. Letting it out in a rush, he had turned to go when he saw that two creatures from his worst nightmare blocked the way.

  He didn't even get a chance to scream before the children were on him.

  Clearwater, Florida:

  Five men from the Pinellas County Sheriff’s emergency services unit formed up at the mouth of the storm drain to listen to a lecture from the City Utility Supervisor as to what to expect below ground. Their original plan had been to go in at nine in the morning, but due to the heightened activity in their jurisdiction it had been decided to move the operation up eight hours. The new briefing dealt with what they might encounter in the nighttime tunnels that crossed beneath the city.

  Another reason for the early jump off time was because of reports coming in from all over the country relating how the dead hid in sewer and drainage systems. After hearing this, the ESU supervisor had made the decision to be proactive and seek out the flesh eaters before they emerged in groups too large to be dealt with.

  The utility supervisor, a clip on necktie-wearing city executive named Gordon, called for everyone’s attention before speaking. "Okay, I know my assistant briefed you on what to expect during a daytime penetration of the maze, but since you're going in at night, I’ve got to update you on what's different."

  Gordon cleared his throat before continuing. "The critters you'll run into during the day are the same ones you'll see at night but they'll be much more active. The rats will be out and feeding and the bats will be coming and going from their roosts. We've got grills over all the outflows that go into retention ponds but occasionally we still get a gator in the system. As you know, a gator is more active at dawn and dusk, so if you're still inside come daybreak, be careful. You've got your maps, so you shouldn't have any problems getting around. The only confusing spot is the main junction underneath the downtown area. Thirty-two separate pipes flow in and out of there, so make sure you check the numbers painted at each intersection against the map. We haven't had any rain in a while and you're above the water table here, so it should be fairly dry down there. No rain is forecast so that’s a good thing too."

  Gordon looked around at the hard-eyed men to see if they had any questions. Seeing no quizzical looks, he finished up by saying, "I'll let you get on with it then. God bless and I wish I was going with you."

  As Gordon was turning to leave, one of the ESU men stopped him by saying in a sincere voice, "We've got extra gear in the van. We'll wait until you suit up."

  Gordon gave the man a tight smile and hurried off.

  The team leader, Lieutenant Atkinson, said, "Stow that shit, Two" calling the man by his designation number. "It's time to tighten up. Gordon's been very helpful and you wouldn't be able to find your own ass with both hands and a six man search party down there without his maps."

  The rest of the men laughed at Two as Lieutenant Atkinson, designated One, continued, "There's not supposed to be anyone working down there but that doesn't mean we won't run into anyone. The homeless use these tunnels all the time so make sure of your target before you fire. And also make sure it's not one of us. Remember your fire control and put at least two rounds into its head. We won't have radio communication with the surface, but we’ll be able to talk to each other on our com-links. If you get separated, try to reestablish contact. If that's not possible, move to the nearest vertical shaft and exit the maze. Any questions?"

  Five, the newest member of the team, spoke up, "Do you think we'll find something down there?"

  One gave him a serious look before replying, "More than three hundred people have been reported missing in Clearwater over the past couple of days. It ain't the rapture, so they didn't go up. My bet is that they went down."

  Five swallowed hard and nodded.

  "Weapons check in ten minutes. Smoke 'em if you got 'em 'cause once we get below the smoking lamp is out."

  Under normal circumstances, entering the subterranean network of tunnels beneath a city took a certain type of person. To do so with the threat of attack at any instant by something no longer human took a person with nerves of steel.

  The ESU team advanced cautiously but rapidly through the five-foot circumference tunnels that led into the maze. Their path crossed numerous smaller outflow and inflow pipes. When they approached anything big enough to conceal a human, they did so with caution.

  At first tense, the team slowly relaxed and fell into a steady rhythm as they cleared these possible hazards. One man would approach a cross tunnel as the other man behind him provided cover with his MP5 machine gun. The man behind him kept an additional eye on the situation while the other two faced the rear to prevent a possible ambush from that direction.

  After hours of this, Two voiced the thought that was on a few of the men’s minds, "This is a snipe hunt. There's nothing down here in this sewer except rats."

  One turned to look at him saying, "And one great big turd. That's why I call you number Two." A few of the men chuckled at this, including Two.

  "I think we need to bag this and head on back," Two proposed. "If all these missing people are zombified, then they're probably hiding in their closet or under their beds. We got the National Guard taking over in a few hours and they're gonna do a house-to-house search, so why don't we see what they come up with."

  "Negative," One shot him down. "We complete this mission and then we exfiltrate. What's your problem, you missing out on a date or something?"

  Three spoke up from behind them, "He's got a date with a zombie, Two’s gonna get him some dead head."

  "That's still a step up from your girlfriend," Two shot back. "At least when I screw the dead they're really dead and not just acting like it.”

  This broke everybody up until One said, "Tighten up time, we’re coming to the junction Gordon told us about."

  The men focused on the area in front and behind them as lights attached to the fore grips of their machine guns were switched on to add illumination to the 100,000 candle power lights on their helmets.

  Crouching down more than they were already forced to by the low ceiling, they cautiously approached the end of the pipe they were traversing. The sharp echo of sound in the storm drain was gradually being replaced by duller reverberations, which told the team they were coming up on an open area.

  One held up his hand to signal the team to stop before moving forward to the end of the pipe. Even without sticking his
head out into the chamber beyond, he was amazed by the size of the underground structure.

  Built of concrete, it was easily fifty feet across. After carefully looking to his left and right, One saw it was at least twice that in width. Drainpipes of various sizes dotted the walls, some as large as the one he stood in while others barely spanned two feet. From his perch, it was a fifteen-foot drop down to the slimy, muck covered floor and thirty feet to the ceiling.

  One resisted the childhood urge to say; "Hello," and listen to the echo fade away. Turning, he whispered to Two, "We're here, have Four pass up the rope ladder."

  In addition to the necessary lethal equipment the team carried, they had also brought along two fifty foot coils of rope and a twenty foot ladder that rolled up to half the size of a small sleeping bag. Four handed this up the line to where One was readying a powder actuated gun to fire fasteners into the concrete.

  The sound of the .22 caliber shots from the gun echoed and died away as One secured the ladder. The ESU men weren't worried about the noise they made alerting the undead to their position, and while they whispered and conducted themselves quietly, this was training rather than need. They were down here to see if the sewers were full of zombies. If they attracted them by making noise it would at least answer that question. The men themselves weren't worried about contact with the living dead. Each carried an MP5 machine gun, side arm, and Three had brought along an assortment of thermite grenades to be used for breaching any barrier or torching a group of subjects. Five even carried two M67 fragmentation grenades in the event they needed to drop them on their back trail while they beat a hasty exit.

  Two stood cover in the outflow as One descended. The Lieutenant tentatively checked the surface before stepping off the bottom rung of the ladder and sunk ankle deep in the muck covering the floor. After taking a few test steps, he turned and said, "You and Three with me. Four is high cover and Five watches his back."

  Two relayed the order and started down the ladder, quickly followed by Three. Staying close to each other, the men started across the chamber looking for any sign of recent activity.

  "Contact", Three spoke up almost immediately, "It looks like the First Infantry moved through here. I got footprints all over the place."

  "I see them", One said tightly. "Boot tracks, shoe tracks and even bare feet. There's too many to count. Guess we found our missing persons."

  Shining his light at the inflow and outflow pipes set at different heights in the wall, he added, "They're using these to travel and hide in. Just like we suspected."

  "What are we going to do about it?" Two asked nervously.

  Studying the chamber, One pointed with his light and explained, "The upper pipes let water flow down here from the streets. Then it goes out through these lower drains to retention ponds and what not. If the amount of water is too much, the next levels of higher outflows pick up the slack and dump it into secondary retention areas. My guess is the Z's are coming down the same way the water is and congregating here before moving down the outflows. It looks like there's too many for us to deal with so we’re gonna pull back and bring in the National Guard."

  "Maybe they have flame throwers or something they can use to clear these pipes," Three suggested.

  One was about to answer when his light reflected off a disfigured face looking out of a three foot circular drain twenty feet away. Squeezing off a burst from his MP5 as he shouted a warning to the others, he was satisfied to see all three rounds hit his target in the head, exploding it in a shower of bone, brains and black puss.

  Two and Three whirled around with machine guns at the ready and quickly targeted the pipe with the now thoroughly dead zombie.

  Two's comment sounded hollow in his ears, half deafened by the noise of gunfire. "That was quick. What happened to make you sure of your target first?"

  "Half that things jaw was torn off and he was moving," One explained. "I was sure enough." Looking around anxiously, he added, "Let's pull out of here. Three is first up the ladder, then Two."

  Alerted by the gunfire, Five had crowded in the drain opening in front of his teammate, leaving their rear exposed. One waved him back frantically when he saw this but it was too late.

  As the team had passed by on their way to the chamber, the dead had watched from deep in the drains that the ESU men thought were empty. Once the food had gone by, dozens of zombies filed after them, staying just out of reach of the probing lights. Then they waited with growing hunger as the food stopped at the chamber. When the light ahead of them that had been pointing in their direction disappeared, they moved forward in a rush.

  One watched in horror as countless filthy hands reached out to wrap around Four and drag him screaming away from the mouth of the pipe. Jostled by the movement, Five was pushed forward and dropped sideways onto the floor fifteen feet below.

  Hearing noises behind him, Two spun around to find that while they had been distracted by the attack, the dead had come out of the drains and were now pouring toward them in waves. He raised his machine gun to fire even as he knew it was hopeless. There were over one hundred of the creatures crowded within fifteen feet of them.

  Five had the wind knocked out of him by the fall but recovered quickly. Scrambling into a kneeling position he opened fire on the advancing horde along with the others. In a panic, all four of the remaining team members emptied the magazines of their weapons at once. As they paused to reload, One was pulled down in a writhing mass quickly followed by Three. Two managed to reload and fire off a fresh magazine before a group of walking dead fell on him, tearing at his exposed flesh with their teeth and nails.

  Five, witnessing the entire team slaughtered in just seconds, had seen enough. Looking wildly around for a way out, his eyes fell on a two-foot wide outflow pipe. Without hesitation, he plunged into it head first, scrambling through the slime coating the bottom with the whining shrieks of his pursuers echoing behind him.

  Five felt like he had been crawling for hours when he noticed that the inside of the concrete drain seemed to be lit up. He had dropped his machine gun in his frantic crawl to safety, so now he only had his helmet light. His shocked mind wondered how it could be producing this much illumination when he saw sunlight streaming in from the mouth of the tunnel not fifty feet away.

  Hanging his head in relief, he took a moment to rest as his thoughts crowded in. He couldn't believe the whole team had been wiped out. Torn apart. Memories of Three being literally ripped limb from limb haunted him as he recalled the gruesome sight. Hearing a shriek from behind him, Five pulled himself together. He had to get out and warn people. Get to the National Guard and bring them back here.

  Anger replaced his fear as he daydreamed of the pay back he would bring down on these things. Thoughts of flamethrowers filled his mind as he closed on the exit. Five was so caught up in his fantasy of roasting the zombies in a fiery hell that he actually bumped his head into the heavy steel rebar mesh that blocked the mouth of the drainage tunnel.

  Startled, it took him a moment to realize what he had run into. Wrapping his fingers through the barrier, he pushed and pulled frantically at it with no results. His mind flashed to the thermite charges but these had been carried by Three.

  A shrieking noise made him spin around and look into the dark recess of the tunnel. Movement caught his eye and he knew he only had seconds before they were on him.

  Resignation came over him as he slipped his hands into the carrying bag at his hip. Extracting the two fragmentation grenades, he pulled the pins while holding down tightly on the safety levers. Leaning back against the barrier, he waited until the first zombie closed in and bit down on his leg before he held his clenched hands out in front of him.

  And opened them.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Clearwater, Florida:

  With a sardonic smile, Steve Wendell looked at the magnet stuck to the front of his filing cabinet. When he bought it, he thought that the saying stenciled on it was hilarious. Now it hit a lit
tle too close to home.

  “I got this intelligent by killing smart people and eating their brains” it read.

  He was pulled out of his reverie by a sharp voice outside his door. "It's fucking Sunday, Ginny," he heard Mary spit out angrily. "Can't he call a staff meeting during the week?"

  The answer was muffled but eventually Steve heard Mary's whine fade as she went down the hall to the conference room. A moment later, Ginny poked her head through the door and said with a slightly annoyed tone, "They're all here except Tripod. He got your message about today's eight o'clock meeting yesterday morning when he finished his shift and said he'd be here but no one's heard from him since then."

  He nodded. If Tripod showed up he could be brought up to speed later, but if he had been bitten, Steve hoped he wouldn't show up at all.

  Grabbing his notes, he made his way to the conference room. The looks that greeted him ranged from open hostility, Mary, to bored indifference, Meat. Tick-tock appeared to be asleep while Slackin' Sammy at least seemed attentive.

  Jonny G bounced up and asked in a worried tone, "What's going on boss?"

  Ginny had told Steve that the intern was afraid they'd all been called together for a mass firing.

  "Sit, Jonny," Steve ordered.

  Standing at the head of the table, Steve started talking. He went over everything that had gone on since his talk Thursday with Heather, leaving out the additional times she had called due to Ginny's presence, and then described the preparations he had made. Filling the water tank on the roof, laying in a supply of food, having Brain go over all the equipment and making sure they had adequate fuel for the generator.

  When he was finished, he noticed he had their attention. Even Tick-Tock appeared conscious now, so he went into the rest of his plan.

  "Martial law is going to be declared in a few minutes," he said. "That means the National Guard is coming in to keep the peace and to deal with the dead. If you've been following the events that have been happening in the rest of the country, you'll know that doesn’t mean everything's gonna be all hunky-dory."