Quarantine: A Pandora Novel
Page 20
Austin suddenly spoke up, “I sure wish I had my phone.”
Smiling sadly, Jermaine agreed, “Yeah, bro, me too.”
“Shit,” continued Austin, “That lousy Capt. “Hessian” made his leave all of them at the Armory. That asshole!”
Snorting in disdain, Jermaine said, “He said that we should be worried about fighting, not texting our girlfriends. Well, that’s sorry SOB got his. He’s dead now.”
“Yeah,” agreed Austin, “except so is everyone else, too.” Instinctively making a face, Jermaine just grunted in solemn recognition of that devastating but true fact.
“I wonder if my folks made it out of Staten Island?” he murmured aloud.
“Staten Island probably isn’t as bad as the rest of the boroughs,” Jermaine pointed out. “Probably safer staying put.”
“Hmm,” grunted Austin, thinking.
“My Moms is in Brooklyn,” Jermaine spoke out. “Except, she had had Pandora already. My sister took her back to the hospital while we were mobilizing.” He shook his head as his eyes filled. “I’m guessing she didn’t make it.”
After an awkward pause, Austin asked, “How about your wife? Shonell, right”?
“Yeah, that’s it,” Jermaine said with a small smile. “She’s good, last time I spoke to her. She was heading up to Queens to be with her folks while I was called up. They’re up in Bayside. Her younger brother was off from college and they have a house near the water there.”
“That sounds great,” Austin said. “Do they have a boat?”
“No,” said Jermaine, “but their neighbor has one, I heard. Maybe if it got bad there, they were able to get to it and leave. Go somewhere safer for a while.”
“Yeah,” Austin said softly, “safer.”
They both returned to their own personal thoughts. Jermaine didn’t want to say it just yet, but right before he was called up and left, Shonell told him that he was going to be a father. It was way too soon to know whether it was a boy or girl, but nonetheless, Jermaine was going to be a dad. He was so excited that they both started crying with joy. Now? Now, who knows? He had to believe she was safe. Her and the baby. A tear rolled down his dark cheek. He surreptitiously stole a glance at his friend, but his head was down and he was idly drawing in the dirt with his finger. Jermaine looked up at the stars so bright in the sky. Fortunately they had a full moon. Like it or not, it was the only illumination in the city. Soon, before he even realized it was happening, his eyelids drooped then closed. In a minute he was sound asleep next to his remaining friend. Austin was already sleeping.
17
An explosion jarred Rick awake. Momentarily disoriented, he found himself leaning up against a whitewashed brick wall. A brightly flickering orange glow danced on the roof surface from behind him.
“What was that?” asked Eileen still groggy from sleep.
Quickly gathering his wits about him, Rick jumped up and ran to the front edge of the roof. The fire that started in the clothing store was still burning fiercely and had spread to the adjacent building. As the fiery tongues of flame leapt up to the sky, burning pieces of material kept raining down on the surrounding roofs. This had caused several of the cars below to catch fire. The explosion he heard was the gas tank of one of them igniting. As he watched, a burning piece of the building landed on an SUV in the street. The burning flotsam was large and in a matter of seconds the entire vehicle was afire. Then suddenly, in a concussive explosion, the SUV was lifted sideways and crashed through the store window of the laundromat next door. By now everyone was at the roof’s edge watching in horror.
Leaning further over the side, Rick could see that the street was clear of the undead. The only zombies in the street now were the charred and burning corpses littering the road. In front of the clothing store their blackened bodies were stacked like cordwood. Rick also saw, disconcertingly, how many of the fluttering pieces of burning material and ash were landing onto the roofs of the buildings across from the inferno; including the one they were now standing upon.
As he watched a piece float down and land on the far corner of their roof where it continued to burn, Rick said warily, “I think we should get off of this roof and go back down to the sidewalk. This whole block is going to go up in flames soon. We had better be out of here when it does.”
As if to accentuate his idea, another explosion came from inside the building next to them, housing the laundromat.
The group hurried back to the bulkhead that housed the rooftop access door. PJ grabbed the handle and pulled. It wouldn’t budge. Rick joined in to help and both men tugged and yanked the unmoving metal door.
“Shit,” cried PJ, “it must be locked from the inside. It won’t budge an inch.”
Rick looked around for something to pry it open with, but to no avail. Cursing in defeat, he said, “This is useless. We’re going to have to go back to the next building and go down the way we came up.” A third explosion sounded from the street.
“What about Nemeeka?” Tomiko asked. They all looked down at Amy who was kneeling next to her partner.
Returning their gaze, Amy said with finality, “I’m not leaving her here.”
Nemeeka weakly shook her head. She looked positively deathly. Tears were in her eyes as she tried to push Amy away. “No. Go on,” she faintly groaned.
But Amy stood her ground. “I’m not leaving Meek.”
“Okay, then,” Rick grunted. He and PJ moved to either side of the dying girl. Reaching down, they gently lifted her up to a sitting position. Nemeeka wailed out in pain. Both men reached their arms under her knees and attempted to carefully lift her.
“Aaaah!” She cried, “No, no, put me down. It hurts too much. Please put me down.”
Afraid of hurting her anymore, they set her back down on the ground. The beautiful black artist was gasping for breath. The agony she was in was too much for her. Looking up at Rick, she said, “Please Rick, let me talk to Amy alone.”
Glancing at PJ, Rick said softly, “Sure, Nemeeka. Anything you want.”
They both rose and mumbling apologies moved away to leave the two lovers alone. They both were extremely upset and embarrassed that they couldn’t think of any solution to this problem.
While everyone else self-consciously looked away, Amy knelt back down and leaned in close to her soulmate. “Don’t say it, Meek,” Amy said, shaking her head while crying, “because I’m not leaving you.”
“You can’t stay here,” Nemeeka said softly but firmly.
“I’m not going to leave you. I can’t,” Amy sobbed.
“You have to,” Nemeeka insisted. “Listen, my love, I’m dying. My vision is already fading to a darkened tunnel. If…If I have ten more minutes, it will be a lot.”
“Then I’ll wait ten more minutes,” Amy said, “or twenty, or however many it takes.”
Another piece of burning wallboard crashed onto the roof. This one flamed up brightly in the night sky and continued to burn.
“No, you have to go now.”
Amy stared at the burning debris that seemed to be spreading. Then, looking back down at the Nemeeka, she started to cry loudly. Her shoulders were shaking with her sobs. The other five people on the roof were growing agitated with worry as more and more of the city block started to incinerate.
“Go,” Nemeeka whispered. “I can’t die knowing that I caused your death, too. Please. For me.”
Amy leaned in and gave the one love of her life a long, lingering kiss. They knew it would be their last. Then Amy sat up and saw that Nemeeka had lost consciousness. The blood loss had taken its toll. Kissing Meek’s hands, Amy folded them on her breast and rose. Her knees almost buckled. Forcing her feet in front of her one at a time, as if they were made of lead, Amy staggered over to the rest of the crew. They all looked at her tortured, tear stained face but could think of nothing to say that would alleviate any of her pain. Tomiko reached out and caressed her arm helplessly.
Suddenly, with a roar and a shower of flam
e, the entire roof of the building across the street came crashing down. The six survivors hurried across the rooftop. Carefully they climbed the parapet and jumped across to the next building. Rushing to the roof access door, they opened it and ran down the stairwell. Smoke was creeping along the ceiling and starting to thicken. The exploding SUV that smashed through into the ground floor laundromat had set the building ablaze. Coughing on the sooty smoke, they made their way down the stairs to the first floor. There, they found it almost completely on fire. They could hear the trapped undead moaning and thrashing behind the closed apartment doors. A narrow pathway was still open to the front entryway. Rushing gingerly through the hall, avoiding the flames, the six survivors made it unscathed to the front door.
They piled in front of the closed door that would lead them into the vestibule and from there the street; when they heard a loud growl behind them. Turning, they saw a male zombie at the end of the hallway wearing an oxford shirt and jeans. His shirt was already charred and the ghoul’s face was streaked with soot. Upon seeing the fleeing humans at the door, the creature started trudging down the burning hallway after them. Baring his teeth he snarled his way toward them.
For a moment, the group was frozen in place watching this creature plowed toward them. Completely oblivious and unconcerned to the growing inferno around him, he raised his hands into grasping claws, pawing the air. Rick fumbled at the door handle and as he opened the door the group pushed their way through out of the hallway and into the vestibule. The zombie single-mindedly gave chase. His clothes and hair were now smoking and, as he advanced, his flapping shirt whooshed up in flames. Opening the heavy apartment door, the group made it onto the street and Rick slammed the door closed in the zombie’s face. The furious creature was pawing at the wood and pushing his gnashing teeth against the glass. He was now entirely aflame. As Rick and the group backed away watching him in macabre fascination, the zombie’s skin bubbled and melted off his skull until he collapsed in a heap behind the door.
“Come on,” said Rick, “let’s keep moving.”
They turned and hurried down the block between the burning buildings. Avoiding the fiery embers raining down on them, they ran to the corner and, turning, headed west. Amy paused and looked up toward the building whose roof they were staying on. She could see that the fiery debris falling upon the rooftop had now ignited the entire roof itself. Orange and yellow flames were growing and flaring up in the dark, night sky.
Some sudden movement or noise, he couldn’t say for sure, made Austin snap awake. He listened in the dark for movement, but all he could hear were the undead still pounding at the plywood walls and the ambient sounds of the besieged city. He looked toward the barrel they had their fire burning in and saw that the flames had grown much smaller. But beyond the barrel, illuminated by the reflective glow of the waning fire, stood a figure. Its back was to them and the figure was slightly swaying back and forth. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Austin sat up and peered closer. From the uniform and the short dark hair he could see that it was Jeff. Austin and Jermaine were sitting a bit away from the fire and had probably gone unnoticed.
Austin nudged Jermaine with his elbow. When he woke, Austin put his finger to his lips. Jermaine wrinkled his brow in confusion and Austin pointed toward Jeff. The conflicting emotions were evident on his face as he suddenly comprehended what this meant. He turned and looked at Austin with a pained expression. Equally anguished, Austin just nodded in silent agreement. Taking a deep breath, he blew it out slowly with a long, soul-searching sigh. He knew what he had to do. And he hated it.
Both men silently climbed to their feet. Austin looked down at his combat knife, then at Jeff. He couldn’t do it like that. Moving his gaze to the long barrier wall around the construction site he thought, I think it will hold. Moving slowly, he picked up his rifle and moved to the left a few steps. Whether it was some sound he made, or just a coincidence, Jeff stopped swaying and turned around. Both men stared at one another. At first, Jeff stood there uncomprehendingly. Then, as the new viral brain synapses clicked in and he recognized only prey, his eyebrows drew together and his lips curled threateningly. Jeff was ashen in color and his almost gray skin seemed stretched over the bones in his face. The former soldier and friend bared his teeth and growled at them. Black blood leaked from the corners of his mouth. Raising his hands, he leaned toward Austin and snarled rabidly. As he did the vile, blackish blood spattered the air in front of him. When Austin moved and raised his AR-16 to his shoulder, Jeff started toward him. The revenant moved shockingly fast taking Austin by surprise. He actually made it to within eight feet away before Austin pulled the trigger.
Jeff’s head exploded and his forward motion sent him tumbling ahead, where he rolled to a stop at Austin’s feet. He stumbled back trying to avoid the body then turned and vomited behind him. Jermaine came over and put his arm around his friend as he retched.
“Hey,” he said, “there was no other choice. That wasn’t Jeff anymore.”
Austin nodded his head in understanding as he leaned over with hands on his knees and spat into the dirt. Jeff’s snarling and the gunshot carried in the night air and the surrounding undead increased their persistent attack on the plywood panels. Unknown to the two trapped soldiers inside, this noisy and continuous siege had drawn many more of the undead from the surrounding streets and avenues. The added manpower, or zombiepower if you will, along with their now revamped enthusiasm was taking its toll on the steadily weakening plywood. The barrier wall was never intended to withstand the physical assault it was now subjected to. Already some of the nails and supporting posts had weakened to the point of collapse.
Austin finally spit out the taste of bile from his mouth. He wiped his lips with his sleeve as he walked over to the contractor’s trailer he had been sleeping against. Sitting on the wooden steps leading up to the trailer door, he took a sip from the dregs of his remaining water. Austin swirled it around his mouth and swallowed the tepid liquid. He sat with his elbows on his knees and gazed idly at the canteen.
“You know,” he said, “I knew that we were going to have to take care of Jeff when he eventually turned. And I thought that I was resigned to it. That I accepted that fact.” He sighed, shaking his head. “But when push came to shove, I almost couldn’t pull the trigger on him. I knew it was the right thing to do and all but…” He looked up at Jermaine standing in front of him. “Funny, huh?”
“It ain’t easy losing a friend,” Jermaine commiserated. “Even if he is dead. Or a zombie. It’s still Jeff.”
Austin stared out into space, lost in thought. “Yeah,” he murmured, “still Jeff.”
Pausing, he said, “You know for a second… one brief second… when we were staring at each other, I thought that maybe Jeff was still in there. That maybe because he had probably just turned, there was still a glimmer of the old Jeff inside. But…But when he focused on me and really realized that I was standing there, I could see nothing in his eyes. They were that milky white color, but the only thing I could see just looked fucking evil. Like they’re mad at us.”
“I don’t know,” pondered Jermaine, “I don’t think they feel anything at all. I think that all of the growling and snarling they do are just sounds that a predator makes. They don’t hate us, they don’t like us, and they don’t really give a shit about us. All they want to do is infect us. To create more of them. That’s all.”
“Well,” sighed Austin, “one way or another, we’re fucked.”
Just at that second, a loud crack echoed across the lot. The two soldiers snapped their heads toward the sound. At the far wall, near where they entered, the corners of one of the plywood panels started flapping with the persistent pounding. That corner soon widened as the rest of the nails were pulled out of the anchoring post from the constant stress.
“Oh shit!” cried Jermaine.
Then, ten feet away, the loose board that they crawled through fell off. Immediately, five zombies noticed. They got on th
eir hands and knees and looked through the opening. First one, then another, and finally the rest started to crawl through. Austin fired his rifle at them but missed.
Tapping his friend on the shoulder, Jermaine said, “It’s time to leave this party. Let’s go.”
Both Austin and Jermaine turned and ran for the far barrier wall behind them. There were no zombies on that side. All were congregated on the opposite side where they first had entered. As they ran, the loosened plywood panel finally collapsed, falling with a loud thud into the construction site. Following it in was a teeming mass of zombies. Their eerie moans filled the empty lot.
Austin and Jermaine reached the far wall and turned to see the large mass of undead funneling into the site. When the snarling suddenly escalated, they realized that they had at last been seen. Austin looked up to the top of the plywood wall. At twelve foot it was too tall to reach. Frantically looking around, Austin spied a wheelbarrow about six yards away. Quickly running to it, he grabbed the worn handles and wheeled it up to the fencing.
“Jer,” Austin barked, “I’ll get in and boost you up. Stand on my shoulders and see if you can pull yourself up.”
Looking back at the incoming swarm, Jermaine said, “Roger that.”
Austin stepped into the wheelbarrow and, interlocking his fingers, nodded at his friend. “Okay, your turn, chubby.”
Climbing up, Jermaine said snidely, “Nice talk from the man expecting me to pick him up.”
Stepping into Austin’s hands, Jermaine leapt as Austin boosted him up. The straining soldier grasped the top edge of the thick plywood and without stopping lifted himself up the wall. He swung his right leg over the edge. Glancing over the side, he could see that there were no zombies anywhere on the block. Then he leaned back down and reached his arm out for his friend. As Austin changed his position, ready to leap, the front wheel on the barrow snapped. The metal carrier tilted and fell to the side throwing the startled soldier in the dirt. The fall knocked the wind from Austin’s lungs. Turning his head to look over his shoulder as he lay there, he saw the undead heading straight for him. Gasping, trying to suck in air, Austin struggled to his feet. There were a dozen or two zombies in the lead. These were the more recently turned, and they were moving quickly in an awkward semi-trot.