Dogs had already proven their value and were regarded with a new-found respect. Volunteers who were not fighting or clearing material took care of the pets and children found trapped here or there. There were a couple of mothers who had hidden with their children, but they were emaciated and looked as if they would have made it only a few more hours.
One woman with two sons stood out. Dirty, hungry, with cuts on their bodies and tears in their clothes, they crawled out from an old-style root cellar tucked onto the outside of the foundation. Most houses were slab on grade in the area, but some of the canner and mushroom growers created a ramshackle space to store or grow their wares.
She stood proud and said it was her husband's blood that covered her front and that she herself was not bit. Her back was straight as she looked at her rescuers with a dare you judge me set on her brow. Her eyes were fierce and defiant as her two boys hid behind her legs and a large black Labrador leaned protectively against her leg.
"If you go to those trucks over there, they will get you and your kids to the compound," Benson said to the woman, not really knowing if she heard his words.
"I will stay with my house," she replied with a heavy south of the border lilt to her speech. He didn't care if she was legal or where she came from; the only thing that mattered is that she lived and was healthy.
"Okay, you can stay here; just put this on your door. After a crew details it and removes any contaminated, you can move back in. You will, however, be forced to provide shelter for those who are clearing the city. Food and medical supplies can be found in the compound in case you want to get your kids checked out."
"I was a nurse, so I can take care of my children and I have food. Really, we would prefer to be left alone."
"I wish that I could give you that, ma'am, but times are different and everybody is needed in order to survive. Now that I know you're a nurse, I definitely can't leave you alone."
"I was a nurse; my license would not transfer over to the lower forty-eight so now I work the desk at the hospital."
"Mexico?" He had to ask.
"Puerto Rico."
"Puerto Rico? But that's America."
"I know, but it doesn't matter."
"Well, licenses and degrees don't mean nearly as much as practical service knowledge. Have you seen rough situations on the island?"
"I was sent to Haiti—that is as bad as I ever need to see things," she replied.
"Listen, Mrs …?"
"Rosa, Rosa Rosario."
"Rosa, I'm Art Benson, and I'm one of the members of the council that has taken responsibility for the city and all survivors. We need you. I understand what you have been through … I too saw my wife killed after she was infected, most of the people with me have seen or even killed their own loved ones in order to survive. There are a lot of bad people in the world and very evil things have happened. But there is good still left out there, surviving in small glimmers of light in a sea of darkness. We are the biggest of those glimmers of light, Mrs. Rosario. We need you to help us shine even brighter."
Benson regretted making her cry and wanted to wrap her in his arms as she openly struggled with the pain over the last few days and the acts of survival that she herself had to perform. She lamented over the loss of a man better than she had ever imagined meeting and the fact that she had to sink a spade halfway into his brain in order for her and her babies to survive. Her face scrunched up with a cast between hate, rage, and pain before she stomped her foot and looked at Benson, her countenance returned.
"Okay, I will help. I will set up a triage or something like that out of my garage if you promise protection."
"I'll call for equipment and supplies to be brought to you, including some dog food for your pooch."
"Science Diet Lamb and Rice. That is all he will eat."
"I have an idea that you are going to make life a little difficult for me," Benson replied good-naturedly.
"As you wish, Officer Benson, as you wish," she said, and even managed a slight loosening of her lips.
The housing area bordering Panama and Summer Streets were cleared up to Albert Peak Road by late afternoon, which left just the buildings around the airport to finish off. The mobile barricades were set and people were already setting up to draw the Z's out of the opposing neighborhoods. They would draw them out for hours, systematically killing each one as it came forth and cutting down the risk of exposure when they did search the buildings. Everything was all nice and manageable—just the way Benson liked it. He looked up at the plane that had been circling for days. A twin engine Beechcraft, it would circle a couple times every day, looking for a landing, and then disappear only to come back the next day for the same result. They had tried to reach them on the radio but couldn't find the frequency so all the pilot had to go off of was the A.M. broadcasts.
Tasha must have hung out the open sign, as more aircraft started to arrive, including some helicopters. He didn't think the runway was big enough for large jets but some of the smaller ones and a couple of C130s could set down. It would be interesting to see what the skies brought them.
It was on his way back to the compound where he first heard about Web's macabre televised execution.
Chapter 10
The Lift
Kodiak saw the woman lodged into the iron planter hanging beneath a third-story window. Their eyes met and she signaled to the woman. She didn't know what she signaled, but it felt right and she saw the look of relief on the woman's face. Then she listened again. She could hear movement from up above and a humming coming from the window. She looked back at the woman and saw her signal toward something outside the building.
Kodiak poked her head around the window with her rifle leading. She instantly recognized the smaller stature and dress of Charlie on the lift, so she stretched and looked up at the balcony to see the man with the pistol. Her shots were reactionary and sprayed more on the underside of the decking than up toward the shooter, but it was enough to get him to pull back into the room. Heavy footsteps of him running prompted Kodiak toward the door. She tried to follow the footsteps, but ahead of her and up a floor, they suddenly just stopped. She slowed as she got to the staircase and took a few steps up before she stopped and listened.
Kodiak wasn't a cop, and she wasn't a soldier for very long—she only served an easy go in Germany for eighteen months. So to say she was beyond her training was an understatement. Web, on the other hand, was a self-trained master who was in his element.
Kodiak barely saw the shadow before her body was slammed to the stairs with the full brunt of a man's weight from a half story up. Her body cracked as joints popped and tendons stretched, but she managed to stay groggily conscious. Her M4 slipped from her hands as Web threw her out into the hallway.
"Another unseen fucking element! What's next?" he shouted at the limp form of the ex-dancer. "What's next? Huh? Is some kind of hairdresser army going to come tie me up and kick my ass?"
He kicked her and she barely managed to cover her head in time before the sole of his boot started to rain down. He had never experienced such delicious blind rage and he wanted nothing more than to stomp the woman into a pile of goo.
Kodiak couldn't help a whimper, but she stifled her desire to beg for her life. He would not see her beg.
#
Sharon knew that it wasn't going to end well for the girl and instinctively looked for her spade. She spotted it on the ground beneath her, and then she also noticed that most of the zombies had dissipated into the building. She looked at the identical wrought iron window basket on the level beneath her, slid out of the one she was in, and held herself in a pull-up position before she let go and dropped down to the next level, managing to grab the rails directly below. She stretched her arms out and dropped the remaining few feet to the pavement before she was moving toward the building where the girl and the bastard had been. Sharon saw them through the doorway of the apartment where the woman had shot from, and leaped over the railing and in
to the apartment. She was down and he was kicking her when Sharon ran toward his back with the spade's edge aimed right for his spine.
Sharon didn't know how he heard her, or if his moving at the last moment was pure luck, but it didn't matter because her spade plunged deep into the sheet rock wall beyond. She yanked it out, spraying dust all over the unmoving body below, but not before the creep landed a solid blow to her nose and a grazing one to her forehead as she pulled away.
She kicked out and felt her foot connect solidly on the front of his thigh, pushing him back as she brought her spade around in a sweeping blow to try to decapitate him. He fell back onto the floor and rolled away from the enraged woman; despite her rage, she still had the presence of mind to dive back into the apartment when she saw the pistol come up. She scrambled on her belly to the kitchen when she heard gunshots hitting the doorjamb where she had been.
She could sense when he looked for only a second in the apartment through the open patio door before turning back toward the woman on the floor. She was going to have to abandon her hidey hole behind the cabinets if she was going to help her.
#
Wii obaabaayan niin awi'iwe giinitamawind mashkawizii wii dakobizh inanjige iiyaas.
"To the father we lend our strength to restrain the eater of flesh."
Dean waited until the woman jumped off the roof as he had instructed her to. Then he tried to spot Web before he followed after Charlie. He could only guess where he headed, but things were happening so fast he couldn't be sure about what was happening anywhere. Did those people on the roof survive? Did Charlie get to Kodiak or was he caught by the freak? Who was that black girl and how did she know how to fight like that? Too many questions and too few answers.
He froze as he went down the stairs and saw Charlie's gun lying on the bottom step. Charlie was gone, that is the only reason he would have left his gun like that. He picked it up and slung it over his shoulder then looked at a figure down the hallway masked in shadow and started to walk toward him. The figure was bent over an unmoving body and had a pistol half-heartedly pointing at the prone figure.
Is that you, Charlie, lying at the feet of this bastard? Charlie, is that you looking like nothing more than a lump of flesh and bones? His thoughts were so intense he didn't even feel the bullet that grazed off of his head. It was the gun at the starting line and initiated the rage that was welling up within him. It would have taken more than a single lethal bullet to stop the bull who now rushed down on the wearied doctor.
#
Every play he had made went downhill today, and he was bound and determined to take his rage out on the hide of at least one of them. He wanted to continue to stomp on her until she was mush but knew that was impractical right now. A simple bullet would have to do. He pointed his gun down at the girl and slid his finger over the trigger.
What in the hell is that? Web thought as a giant shadow blocked out the moonlight from a doorway down the hall. At first, he thought it was a zombie that had gotten through his defenses and took a shot at its head. The creature moved his head slightly, as if it were an afterthought, causing the bullet to only graze its skull. Then it started to run and scream, flustering the good doctor, who took two more panicked shots—the last of which fell on a locked back chamber. He struggled for another mag as he turned and ran, but it was too late. The giant's momentum put him right on top of Web before he ever came close to the speed he needed for escape. He braced himself for the blow and was surprised when it came in the form of one single blow to his head with a large piece of wood. He rolled onto his back to find a thick homemade spike resting on his throat. The weight behind that blade could puncture just through gravity alone.
"Keep your feet together and your hands where I can see them. I won't hesitate to kill you, you son of a bitch," Dean said as he saw the lump on the floor start to move.
"Charlie, is that you?" he asked the lump as it regained its feet.
"No, Dean, it's me. Charlie's all right. He's out on the lift."
Dean's shoulders relaxed but he didn't relax his grip on Shaaka, who was pressed against the doctor's throat. The black girl came out of the apartment with murder in her eyes as she looked at the captured rat on the floor. He looked weak and vulnerable but she knew he wasn't; she knew exactly what he was.
"Hold on there, little girl, we got 'em now," Dean said to the stranger.
"Who in the hell are you calling little girl?"
"Relax, I just don't know your name or I would have used it, okay? Kodiak, hand me some zip ties," Dean said, his labored breathing showing that something more was going on. He took the zip ties and looked at them as if he was trying to figure out how he could put them on the creep on the floor without compromising the spear held to the man's throat.
"Give me those," Sharon said and grabbed the zip ties. She took Web's legs and rolled him not so gently onto his belly and slammed a knee into the center of his spine. She then bent one of his arms back painfully and wrenched it high before grabbing the other. In seconds, his hands were secured and his pockets and sheaths searched, revealing several bladed weapons. She stood back up and looked at the man with the spear.
"My name is Sharon. Thank you for helping me out up on the roof there."
"My pleasure. This is Kodiak and I'm Dean. My son Charlie is around too.
#
The three watched Sharon jump to what they could only assume was her death. The billboard blocked most of the view in that direction so they never saw the lift or Dean helping their friend. They only knew that she had left a wake of dead bodies behind her and a lot of mobile ones still set on eating them.
The rooftop kept filling with zombies, all of which had no problem spotting their prey up on the billboard catwalk. It was soon a sea of heads, all intent on getting to them. The sheer mass of them started to push their own up to the edge of the catwalk where the group was forced to kick them back into the masses.
They were free; their hands were untied and they were walking, but they were still trapped and destined to be zombie food. They couldn't hold them off forever so it was only a matter of time before they became too exhausted and fell into the pile or the zombies managed to get to them and they perished.
A strange shudder seemed to go through the crowd of undead that made the three look at each other in confusion. What could make a whole mass of zombies shudder then shift like that? They had shifted toward the middle of the roof and now seemed to be crawling uphill in the direction the billboard that held their next meal.
A loud wrenching screech was heard before a thump, and everything in the center of the roof dropped five feet—including the billboard. The south corner of the catwalk was eye level with the zombies who hadn't been on the part of the roof that was collapsing.
"Hey!" someone said, but they didn't know who or from where. The roof was screeching again as more of the zombies piled on the others in the lowest point at the center of the roof. It dropped two feet, and the three struggled to keep from falling off the catwalk and into the compressed horde. Zombies started climbing onto the catwalk at the south end, having stayed out of the center because of the crumbling sign supports.
Marcy was on the far end and backed up to what she thought was the end. Something must have shifted with the roof collapsing as she found a grid-like, steel thing that she could climb out on. The thing lowered just a bit, still keeping her free of the zombies. She looked up to see if she could climb it higher and saw a face.
A face; a kid's face, and it was … smiling? Soon a hand snuck out and signaled that she should climb up to him and she did. She screamed for Vern, whose eyes grew huge when he saw the basket there. Without looking, he practically threw Judith toward the basket. Vern, having worked in the trades, knew by the size of the basket it had been designed as an elevated work platform and could accommodate four-by-eight-foot sheets of product. He had no fears of it supporting all of their weight, but Judith drew back and let Vern enter first.
Marc
y climbed over the railing and noticed something wrong by the end gate on the lift. She slowly shook her head as she looked at her last two friends; the zombies approaching on the catwalk from behind her did not appear to be much of a concern to the woman.
"Oh no," Vern half-whispered.
Judith nodded and wiped a tear from her eye before she looked at the three in the basket. A small smile creased her lips and she looked directly at Charlie.
"Thank you," she said, and Charlie nodded. Her face turned to one of horror and pain as a fiend latched on to the back of her neck with his teeth. More hands grabbed her and she was falling back into the mass of flesh-rendering teeth.
Her friends looked away and Charlie raised the lift and backed away with a lump in his throat. He had seen many die horrible deaths in the last few days, but the sight of someone still struggling to eke out one more second of life only to be stopped by something as simple as a bite was hard to take. He choked back his tears for the woman he didn't know and pointed the bucket toward the balcony he had escaped from. His dad was on the loose so he knew the apartment would be secure by now. Webber either ran, was caught, or dead. Charlie's old man wouldn't have it any other way.
Chapter 11
WhatsonTV
Benson saw Julie with his kids on his way to the commotion on the far side of the compound and it warmed his heart unexpectedly. Justin was with him all day, so seeing Krissy and Danny was a nice end to his day; the fact that they were with Julie was a bonus. She had really stepped up when he needed her to.
He hugged his kids and smiled at Julie over their shoulder.
"Are we going to have dinner now?" Danny asked.
"You guys are going to have to do that without me," Benson said. "There's something that I have to attend to."
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