Moshe looked abashed. “I hate vegetables and I love candy, so…” He trailed off.
“It makes sense to me,” said Virginia, thinking of what it must have been like trapped in a house with your infected, dead mother. She put an arm around Moshe briefly before standing.
“I’m taking first watch. Get as much rest as you can. Mei, I’ll wake you around midnight?”
They claimed their spots for the night and settled in after placing their weapons within easy reach. A growing number of dead continued to patrol the area near the doors. They weren’t focused on the building or anything really, as far as anyone could tell but their mere presence was sinister and unsettling.
Nevertheless, most of the party soon found themselves in the peaceful, twilight world between dozing and actual sleep. Virginia perched on the arm of a deep, club chair and pulled her knife from her boot, balancing it on her palm and looking out at the night.
Then the electricity came back on.
Chapter Eleven
Great, crystal chandeliers blazed to life, blinding them momentarily and bringing them to their feet, fumbling for their weapons. Alarms blared, agonizing peals of sound echoing all around them. They had no idea how to shut it all off.
Worst of all, the ponderous brass-framed, revolving glass doors began to turn automatically. Each revolution disgorged clumps of stinking, shambling dead into the room.
The alarms excited them. A hugely fat man, shaved head covered in tattoos, pushed a slower ghoul to the ground and waddled forward eagerly. Virginia waited, standing on the arms of the chair until he was close, then jumped on his back and sank her knife into his rotten skull. It was like cracking the shell on a soft-boiled egg. He teetered and fell. She rode him to the floor, banging her knees, and then sprang back up in time to drive the knife up into the soft, rotten flesh under the chin of the dead woman following him.
Cam buried his cleaver between the eyes of a teenaged girl wearing a stained blouse, pleated skirt and knee socks. She was so decayed the cleaver sliced down through her head, neck and collarbone, only stopping at her sternum. She collapsed to the ground in a black, wet heap of flesh.
They were all so decomposed that it took very little to bring them down. Even so, they kept growing in number as more and more emerged from the endlessly revolving doors. The group had to retreat.
The fire exit door sign glowed red just beyond a cluster of desks and they ran for it only to find it chained and locked. Someone must have tried to barricade themselves in here previously. Virginia cursed mentally that she hadn’t checked it before.
David must have had a similar thought though his cursing wasn’t just mental. “Back out the way we came, ladies and gentlemen. Follow me.”
They fought their way back through the ever increasing throng. They kept the boys in the middle and ran, Cam swinging his cleaver and slicing off reaching, dead hands.
Gaining the staircase they closed the door behind them and made their way back to the hallway through which they had entered. The exit door was still ajar but, blinded by the bright light in the hallway, they couldn’t see anything in the darker parking garage. Virginia located a panel of switches on the wall and pressed and flipped them at random until the lights went out. She felt her way back to the exit door and they stood waiting for their eyes to adjust again to the darkness. Down the hallway they heard a bell chime. It was a familiar tone but it still took a few seconds to identify it.
An elevator. They heard a slight metallic squeak and rumble as the doors opened. Dark shapes staggered out. The smell roiling down the hallway was suffocating.
“They must have been trapped in there for days, poor bastards,” Cam whispered.
“And I let them out. Sorry, everyone, but it’s time to go,” Virginia said quietly, already shepherding the boys toward the door. They made it out and down the stairs before the dead reached the door. They heard a dull thud of bodies falling down the steps behind them and they walked faster.
They entered an eerie landscape. Lights illuminated some streets while others remained dark. Traffic lights blinked a yellow warning. A few stores were lit but most were not.
Cam said, “Okay, mates, we have no idea how long the lights will be on so we’d best make the most of it.”
“This time I say we go up a street then try to find the bike trails. The only thing is, I don’t know how to find south in the dark,” Mei said.
“I can’t see the stars at the moment but let’s get away from the street lights and maybe I can figure it out,” said Cam.
They eventually arrived at the same construction sight they turned back from before but this time they trudged on past the barrels and turned the corner. In the midst of an area littered with concrete barriers and stacks of rebar, they found a construction trailer. David called for a halt.
“I’m breaking into that trailer. We still need explosives,” he said. His voice was tired but determined.
“David, do you really think they would have left explosives inside a trailer?” Mei was a little skeptical.
“Circumstances being what they are, it’s worth a try.”
Halogen lights attached to utility poles lit the site almost as brightly as daylight. Inside that zone they would be blind to whatever might come along in the dark so only David approached the trailer while the rest of the team kept watch in the shadows. He used Cam’s cleaver and made short work of the flimsy door frame, then disappeared inside. A light came on and they saw him moving around, searching.
Virginia thought she saw movement on the overpass above. She stared hard at the guard rails but decided it was probably the myrtles planted alongside the road when she was startled by a heavy thud. She turned and saw a struggling body impaled on the rebar. Arms and legs waved frantically trying to get up. Another body hit the ground, a few feet away from Brian and dragged itself toward him. Brian stomped the skull only to have another land on top of the one he just killed.
Corpses plummeted all around them; some so rotten they were virtually exploding bags of pus and rot. Those still mobile attacked immediately, dragging their broken, decaying bodies along with claw-like hands. The team was overwhelmed.
Cam shouted, “David!” There was no response.
“David! Get out. Now!”
David appeared at the door of the trailer, his rifle over one shoulder.
“Go! I’ll catch up!” David shouted over the noise of the infected.
As soon as he spoke, the dead turned, closing in on him at the steps leading down from the trailer. Using the butt of his rifle he brained two of them and ran, stumbling and almost falling over a body. Out of the lighted area he was temporarily blind. A hand closed on his leg and another on his arm. A gun cracked somewhere in the darkness and the dead woman holding his arm dropped off. He stomped the dead creature on the ground until he heard bones crack and the hand fell away. He felt a hand on his arm and raised his rifle again, only just recognizing Brian in time.
“This way.”
He let Brian lead him until his eyes adjusted to the night. They regrouped on a sidewalk next to a steep embankment.
“Everything ok? Good. I’m thinking up is the best direction for us. Maybe we can get our bearings if we can see a little more,” Cam said.
The embankment above was sandy and landscaped with little mesquite bushes and painfully prickly barberry plants. The dead followed and they could only hope they were too clumsy or stupid to climb the bank.
Scrambling up the steeply sloping hillside, losing their footing and grasping the thorny shrubs to keep from sliding back down to the creatures now mobbing the sidewalk, they struggled on. Cam took the lead and Virginia brought up the rear, closing her eyes and mouth against the grit kicked loose above her. She began to slide backwards and grabbed a bush, gasping with pain as the thorns pierced her flesh. Pulling herself slowly upward buried the thorns even deeper. Finally she reached the top. A warm hand came over the side and Cam pulled her up the rest of the way. Her hands t
hrobbed.
They were in a parking lot, dimly lit and deserted. Leaning against one of the lamp poles, Virginia extracted thorns from her palms with her teeth while looking out over the valley below.
Lights glittered everywhere like a fairy land. She had forgotten how beautiful a night skyline could be. The enormous bridge looked star-spangled and almost magically bright.
Mei stood beside her, looking down with her newly-acquired NVGs. She made a low sound in her throat and handed them over to Virginia.
Creatures indifferent to the light swarmed the bridge, moving amongst the abandoned traffic. There were more in the water below, thrashing about and then sinking. She turned round slowly, scanning 360 degrees, hoping to recognize something, anything that would point them toward the camp.
A deep hum in the distance made them all freeze, looking for the source of the sound. The beating blades of a helicopter grew louder in the night air. The low-flying bird, lights searching the ground, flew over the beach then approached an area in the far distance to their left. It circled once before landing.
“That’s it!” David exclaimed. “I can see it. Let’s try to make it back before the power goes out again.”
~
David woke to the sound of a child’s laughter. It sounded strangely out of place even before he remembered where he was. The air was fresh, early morning fresh and the sun beating against his still-closed eyelids was just light, not yet heat. Light footsteps on the ground faded as the child ran by on her way to who knows where.
Something was wrong with his back. A dull ache radiated out from a spot near the base of his spine and he groaned and rolled over. The pain ceased. He opened his eyes now and sitting up he picked up the rock he had apparently lain on all night and flung it over the fence.
Very late last night they arrived at the compound gates, unhurt, but having failed to secure the explosives. They were admitted but had to pass by the dogs and then spend the night on the ground in quarantine, outside now as the former quarantine space had been destroyed in the last barrage of mortar fire from the ship.
Brian and Moshe were asleep on the ground a couple of yards away. Cam, Mei, and Virginia were nowhere in sight. It was still so early that a light mist hovered a couple of feet above the ground, giving a dream-like appearance to the entire camp.
He stood and folded up the blanket the guard had given him last night and went to look for something to eat.
Cam and Mei were assembling the communal breakfast table, talking in low voices. David helped them wrestle the heavy planks onto the saw horses. Wonderful smells were coming from what he assumed was the kitchen. He sniffed and thought he detected pancakes possibly accompanied by maple syrup. He looked at Mei who shrugged and grinned.
“The electricity is still on. We’re getting a real breakfast today.”
The line for breakfast formed early and it was a while before everyone was served but David never got a chance to enjoy the “real” breakfast. He was summoned for an early morning meeting with Colonel Hamilton. Ian was there, along with the two officers who arrived last night by helicopter. They exchanged information gleaned from various sources about the confirmed fall of the government and the threat from hostiles outside the nation. For the most part, the rest of the world was too busy dealing with their own disasters to bother with plans of conquest. Eventually they got around to discussing their own situations.
“The landscape has changed. We think we’re dealing with just the one ship now and this makes it easier to handle,” Colonel Hamilton said.
David asked, “Has anyone been able to monitor their communications?”
“Again, it’s more what we’re not hearing. We have known for several days that one of the ships carries infected crew, now we’ve had no communication between any of the ships for at least two days. We can’t tell yet which one has fallen but we are reasonably sure that at least one more has,” said Ian.
Colonel Hamilton ran a hand through a buzz cut of gray hair. “As you know we’ve made every effort to secure some way to destroy the ship but we have been unsuccessful. Of course, now that we’ve reestablished communications with Midwest we expect you have far greater resources than we have been able to secure. We have tried but we’ve been unable to contact any of the Pacific Fleet. If just one ship could come in we could conceivably be gone before the expected hostiles get here and live to fight another day. We’re trying to survive but we’re close to the stone-age in resources now.”
The older officer barked a short, incredulous laugh, “You think we have resources? We came here to see what you could send our way. We haven’t heard from any of our fleet for days.”
“Could they be running silent?”
“Some are but I don’t think that’s what happened to all of them. Immediately after the first quake we flew victims directly to our carriers that in turn sent them to other ships or land hospitals. We lost contact with all of them less than 48 hours later. If we have anything left it would be subs or battle ships and they are under direct orders not to dock.”
He paused then continued, “Midwest Command is under siege, gentlemen. We have over 200 people left in our camp since the typhoid fever outbreak. We have limited food, almost no medicine, and no way to evacuate more than a few. All we can do is hope to survive until the dead are no longer a threat. Flying over we spotted roving bands of dead, faster than any we’ve seen before, spreading out from the southwest and some appeared to be heading our way. This chopper ride was our last. We are out of fuel.
Eastern Command has been quiet for several days and we have no idea what is going on there. All of our carriers were called home several days ago but as I said before we have no contact with them. They could stay out a long time if they wanted to wait and see if the infection burned out.
I pray that there are other pockets of survivors here and worldwide but we may never know. We’re a balkanized country now. We won’t recover from this in our lifetime, if at all.”
Everyone’s cards were on the table. No help would be given or received. Colonel Hamilton opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a bottle.
“Gentlemen, this is Glenfiddich Rare. My father gave me this years ago and I was saving it for my daughter’s wedding. I haven’t heard from my daughter or my wife for several days now. I have a feeling there won’t be a wedding anytime soon so-
He gathered some semi-clean shot glasses and poured each of them a dram. “May the Lord bless you and keep you. May He make His face shine upon-”
David drank his glass then slipped away. It was close to noon and the whiskey on an empty stomach was making his head spin a little. He needed food.
Laughter rang out somewhere ahead of him, delighted childish laughter that again seemed so out of place here. He left the shady colonnade and turned a corner toward the rock pool and stopped.
Children were splashing in the pool. A woman stood holding a toddler in her arms, dunking him in and out of the water as he screamed with delight. After a second or two David recognized Beatrice.
Sleek, bare arms and legs were now a light, golden shade that contrasted beautifully with a white bikini. Lighter streaks of blonde shone in her hair she had casually knotted in a loose bun. She saw David and, holding the toddler on her hip, beckoned him over,
“I’m glad you’re back! Brian told me you guys didn’t find the explosives?”
Droplets of water clung to her skin, making her appear to shimmer in the sunlight. The little boy demanded, “More!” She dunked him again.
David had a little trouble finding his voice. “True. It looks like there isn’t going to be a rescue by sea either so we’re brainstorming again.”
“We weren’t really counting on a sea rescue, were we? I mean, we have a pretty decent plan already, right?” Her eyes were anxious and her voice shook a little.
“Bea, I really need to get something to eat right now. Can we talk later?”
“Oh, sorry. Of course. I need to get Greg back to his
mom anyway. See you at dinner, maybe.”
He agreed and finally made it to the kitchen, where a sympathetic volunteer offered him a bowl of rather tasteless bean soup accompanied by stale cornbread.
“We used all the eggs for the pancakes,” the cook said apologetically. “The cornbread is so much better if you use eggs. What we really need are some chickens.”
“Maybe we’ll find some next trip.” He took the food outside and sat down on a mound of ribbon grass next to the statue of Venus.
A commotion broke out near the entrance gate. He heard a metallic rattle and then a screech as the salt-air corroded gate hinges swung wide. A group entered, four people carrying a body on a stretcher. The dogs went nuts and started barking. A guard motioned the group in but kept the rifle trained on all of them. The stretcher was placed on the ground and the bearers passed by the dogs who were quiet this time. Their handler led them by the stretcher where they once again howled. The patient was handcuffed and a thick cloth gag stuffed into his mouth then tied around his head. They went straight to the infirmary. Poor bastard, whoever he was.
The cornbread descended to his stomach and sat there in a cold lump. He didn’t feel full, just less hungry. Surveying the camp he saw just how tired, how dirty everyone was. Almost all of them could use a haircut and most of the men sported ragged beards. The smell of the latrines competed with that of the dead. Sometimes he thought that smell would never go away.
A part of him hoped his brother would be here or he would at least get word of him. Continued attempts to reach the rest of his family failed too. More and more he thought of striking out and heading up the coast to find them. He had reunited Bea with her brother but he still felt reluctant to leave her. She aroused a protectiveness in him he wasn’t completely comfortable with. Sometimes he thought of introducing her to his parents, wondering if they would approve, then laughed at himself. Civilization had fallen, the living dead had risen and he was nervous about bringing a woman home to meet his parents.
The Living Dead Series (Book 3): Dead Coast Page 16