by K E O'Connor
Katie nodded, her focus on the zombies below.
I’d only moved a few steps before she fired off her first round and let out a triumphant hiss.
I inched around some of rotten looking wooden beams and looked down into the gloom in the churchyard. The new moon overhead didn’t help to highlight any zombies lurking around the gravestones.
I flicked on my high beam torch and shone it from side to side across the churchyard. For a second, I thought I spotted a furtive movement low on the ground. When I refocused the torch beam, it had gone. It could have been a zombie or a rat. I hadn’t gotten a good enough look.
Katie fired off another shot. “Four to go,” I heard her mutter from across the rooftop.
A loud crash followed splintering wood from below. “They’ve gotten through!” More sweat broke out on my forehead. “How many did you get?”
“Two!” Katie hurried toward me.
“That means at least four coming for us. Maybe more,” I said. “We should be able to pick them off one by one as they come up the stairs, but we need to be quick.” I dashed to the door and pulled it open wide, staring into the darkness and shrinking back as I heard shuffling feet and muted growls from below.
“We should go to them,” Katie whispered, sticking close to my side. “We could take them out before they know where we are.”
“Let them come to us. They’ll have to squeeze up the staircase one at a time, just like we did. We’re in a better position if we stay here,” I said, although I was also itching to end this fight and take back control from the zombies.
A scrabbling sound came from the stone steps.
I raised my gun in readiness, but my eyes widened. What rounded the corner wasn’t a zombie, it was a dog!
“Don’t shoot,” I said to Katie, lowering my gun as the dog shot through the door and skidded as he turned, his hackles raised and teeth bared as he glared at the open door.
“It’s that same dog!” Katie said with a startled laugh. “He must have come through when the zombies broke the door down. He’s a fast little thing to get past the rabids.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “I guess he doesn’t know the meaning of the word stay.” I didn’t know why, but having this skinny, flea-bitten animal with us was something of a comfort.
The dog looked at me and Katie. Some of the aggression slipped from his eyes, as if he was trying to let us know he meant no harm and was here to help.
I rolled my shoulders and adjusted the grip on my gun. “Since you’re here, you have help,” I said to the dog. “If there are any rabids on the stairs, you take them down. Any get on the roof, you attack, got it?”
Katie shook her head. “He doesn’t understand you.”
For a second, I thought the dog gave a nod of agreement, then his attention went to the door and his growling began again.
“They’re coming.” Katie glanced at me and licked her lips. “Are we ready?”
I nodded. “We’re ready. Let’s take these rabids down and make the town safe again.”
Chapter 6
Tiny tingles of pain shot up my arm as I kept the gun pointed at the door, a yawning blackness in front of me.
Something was coming. The shuffling sounds on the stone and the reverberating growls from the dog indicated unwanted company was near.
“Quiet,” I ordered the dog. He instantly silenced. “I wish you were that obedient,” I said to Katie.
She grunted in reply, her gaze on the door. “What are they waiting for? An invitation to come and chew on us?”
“Maybe they haven’t picked up our scent,” I said. “We’ve been around the whole church. They might be doing the same and trying to pick up the freshest scent before they go on the hunt.”
“With us as their prey,” she muttered. “Maybe they think they can draw us out if they wait long enough.”
“They don’t think like that,” I said. “They act on instinct. They hunt and destroy. That’s all rabid zombies do.”
I clicked the volume up on my radio. “Control, this is Nick Morton.” I looked at Katie. “Backup would be wise.”
“We can handle them,” Katie said.
“We have no idea how big that rabid nest is. There could be another horde coming our way,” I said. “I know you’re good with your gun, but not that good.”
“Go ahead,” Control said. Derek was looking after the radio again tonight.
“Requesting backup at Watlington Church. There are up to seven rabid zombies inside the building. Possibly more coming.”
“Repeat your location.”
I didn’t want to speak any louder for fear of alerting the zombies. “The roof of Watlington Church.”
There was radio silence for what felt like an hour but was probably thirty seconds. “There are no available teams close by. I’ve put out a request. It’ll be at least an hour before anyone can assist.”
“The fight will be over by then,” Katie said. “Either we’ll be dead or the zombies will be. Backup is a waste of time.”
She was right. The zombies wouldn’t wait that long to attack. We’d have to do this on our own. “Confirmed, Control. Morton out.”
“Stay safe, Nick.” Even through the crackly radio, I could hear the concern in Derek’s normally sarcastic voice.
“He thinks we’re zombie meat,” Katie said.
“We’ll show him,” I said. “I had plans to go fishing this weekend. I don’t want my plans disrupted by a few hungry zombies.”
“I can imagine you in waders, beer bottles cooling in the water as you wait for the catch of the day.” Katie flashed me a tight smile.
It did sound like a good plan. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d taken a break from this job. I was long overdue one. Somewhere with beaches, sun, and ice-cream.
The dog pawed the ground and lowered his head, his teeth exposed.
“It looks like your new guard dog is telling you something,” Katie whispered.
“Stay focused.” I flexed my trigger finger, my breath held as I waited for the first zombie.
A blast of movement shot up the steps, accompanied by the foul stench of decaying body parts. Three zombies tried to leap over each other to be the first to get to us.
Katie and I fired together, hitting the same zombie. He fell backwards down the steps, taking the others with him. There were more coming at us.
“Focus on your left side,” I ordered Katie, aiming my gun on the zombie who’d launched through the door, his hands curled and teeth exposed as he snapped and salivated.
“I’m on it.” Katie swung her gun to the left.
“No way, my friend,” I said to the zombie. “You aren’t making me your midnight snack.” He lunged as I fired. My aim was wide and hit the zombie in the left shoulder.
He staggered back several steps but remained focused on me, ignoring the seeping bullet wound. My next shot was dead center, and the zombie fell.
“Nick! There are more coming through,” Katie yelled.
I turned to the door and saw two zombies—one male, and one female. They separated as they came through, one heading straight for Katie and the other for me.
“Are you good?” I called out, unable to get a clear view of her past the zombie.
“I’m fine,” she shouted as she fired her gun.
The dog growled.
“You want this one?” I said to him, keeping my gaze on the zombie.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the dog take a couple of steps back behind me as if indicating he didn’t want to take a zombie on his own. I couldn’t blame him. They would—quite literally—eat him alive.
“Don’t worry pup, I’ve got this one.” I raised my gun and fired. Nothing happened.
I backed up, released the clip and slammed it against my side, before shoving it into the gun. This wasn’t the first time my gun had jammed.
“Nick!” The panic in Katie’s voice was clear.
I risked a look and my breath hitched. She w
as cornered by two zombies.
Before I had a chance to respond, the zombie in front of me pounced. I lurched to one side to avoid his grasping fingers. I tried my gun again, but it was still jammed.
I threw it to one side with a muttered curse and yanked out my Taser.
Two shots fired from the other side of the church roof as Katie fought her zombies.
My attacker’s gaze went to the fierce sounding growls coming from the dog.
I used the distraction to fire off my Taser. It had the desired effect. The zombie went to his knees, but only for a second before lunging up again and swiping a hand at my legs.
I jumped out of the way. In doing so, I left the dog exposed.
The zombie fastened his fingers onto him, and the dog yelped.
I pulled out my baton, determined that the dog wouldn’t suffer because of me. I raced forward, a cracking sound filling my ears as I did so.
My heart lurched as the roof gave way under my feet. I was standing on thin air, the smell of rotten wood filling my nose as I plummeted down.
Chapter 7
My eyes flickered open, dust and grime inside the lids making them sting. I blinked several times to clear my vision.
As I slowly moved my head, the memory punched into me as I remembered falling through the church roof.
I was on the balcony one floor below. I let out a painful sigh of relief. If I’d made it all the way to the ground floor, I wouldn’t be alive. The floor below was stone and less forgiving than the wood I lay on.
I tasted blood in my mouth as I remained on my back and checked that my fingers and toes still worked. My right ankle gave a painful throb as I twisted my foot. It could be a bad sprain or worse, a break from where I’d landed badly. My left leg also felt heavier than it should, but the toes worked.
Every movement felt like a supreme effort, but I dragged a hand up and tested the radio. Despite repeatedly clicking it and turning up the volume, it made no sound. It must have broken in the fall.
I eased myself up an inch, aware that there may still be zombies inside the church. It seemed unlikely. If they were in here, they would have found me and chewed through my protective gear. As I lifted my right arm, I noticed several deep bite marks in the material. Despite complaining about how uncomfortable the bite gear was, at that moment, I was grateful for it.
I froze as I heard a whining noise. It wasn’t a typical zombie sound. They snarled and growled. This sounded like an injured animal.
The dog! The last time I’d seen him, he was biting on the zombie that had hold of him. I’d assumed he hadn’t made it.
Looking around again, I shuffled into a half-seated position and spotted the reason my left leg felt so heavy. The dog lay across my thigh.
I swallowed the sick feeling that ran through me. He was missing a leg. One of his front limbs had gone.
I sat up fully, my movements making the dog whine again in obvious pain. I rested a dust-covered hand on top of his head. “Sorry, buddy. You got that injury defending me.”
The dog half-opened his eyes and looked at me for a few seconds before shutting them and leaning into my stroke. He didn’t have long to live. He’d lost a lot of blood. I didn’t even know if a dog could survive with three legs.
After another look around the balcony showed no evidence of zombies, I peered over the edge and spotted the remains of the zombie who’d attacked me. He hadn’t survived the fall, and his neck was bent at an unnatural angle.
As my thoughts cleared, I recalled Katie firing two shots at the zombies that attacked her. That should mean there were no more rabid zombies around. We were safe. Well, as safe as you could be in the middle of a rabid zombie infested town.
“Katie?” I risked calling out her name. She had to be alive.
There was an eerie silence in response.
“Give me a minute, boy. I need to check my other partner’s okay.” As gently as I could, I eased the dog off my lap, my bite gear slick with his blood. My ankle had me hissing in pain as I put weight on it. I grabbed a piece of broken wood to use as a makeshift walking stick and inched my way to the church roof.
Half of the roof had collapsed and what remained didn’t look safe to stand on. There was no sign of Katie. She wouldn’t have abandoned me. Dread settled in my gut. Something had happened to her.
I tried my radio again and cursed. The nearest contact point was the van. Although it was only a few minutes’ walk away, it felt like a million miles as I looked out over the church roof, the sky dark, pinpricks of starlight shining down on me.
I limped down the stone steps, wincing every time I stepped on my right ankle. I checked the dog. He was still breathing, although it appeared labored and shallow.
“It looks like you’re the only partner I’ve got around right now,” I said to him. “Can you can bear being handled? If you’re getting through this, I need to get you some help.”
The dog let out a big sigh, which I took as his acceptance.
I eased him onto his side and scooped him into my arms, his remaining legs sticking out in front of me to make sure his wound wasn’t touching anything.
He was so thin. He weighed barely anything. Although he whimpered several times, the dog did not try to get away or bite me.
As crazy as it sounded, I felt like he trusted me.
Another painful flight of stairs down to the ground floor and I was drenched in sweat. I called out Katie’s name several times, searching for her in case she had also fallen through the roof. There was nothing. Maybe she’d gotten away and hadn’t noticed me on the balcony, or had assumed I’d died in the fall.
My nerve endings tingled as I limped through the churchyard. I was too vulnerable holding this wounded dog, with no gun, no Taser, and injured. If there were any rabid zombies around, I wouldn’t stand a chance.
The van glinted down the street under the weak moonlight, and I increased my limping gait. I just needed to get to the van, call Control, and get people out to search for Katie.
Fifty steps to go and my ankle screamed in protest. I gritted my teeth and carried on.
Thirty steps and black spots danced before my eyes.
Twenty tiny steps. That was all I needed to do. I adjusted my grip on the dog and took in a deep, shuddering breath, trying to block out the pain.
He twisted his skinny head around and licked my hand. Somehow, that gesture gave me the strength to stumble the rest of the way to the van.
I choked out a cry of relief as the locks pinged open when I hit the key fob. I placed the dog on the passenger seat. Blood stained the fabric, but I didn’t care. I wanted him next to me where I could keep an eye on him.
A swift check around the outside of the van confirmed my worst fears; Katie hadn’t made it. I slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door behind me before switching on the radio.
“Control, this is Nick Morton.”
“Nick, we were getting worried,” Derek said. “What’s your situation?”
“We lost control of the rabids on the roof of the church,” I said. “As far as I can tell, they’re all dead. Katie’s missing, and I’m injured.”
“Any bites?” His tone was cautious.
“Not on me.” I looked at the dog. “I’m bringing in somebody who’s injured. Make sure we’ve got Carla there to administer treatment.”
“Who is it? A civilian?”
“I’ll explain when I get to base.” I’d get complaints if I brought a dog in with me, but I wasn’t leaving him behind. “I need to find Katie. Any word from her?”
“Nothing. If you’re injured, you can’t help her.”
I lowered my head. She was my partner. I couldn’t leave her behind.
“Officer Morton. Return to base. We’ve got a team on its way. They’ll search for Katie. Get yourself back here.”
I nodded. I was in no condition to help her. Black dots of unconsciousness beckoned as I used my injured ankle to press the gas pedal of the van. “Roger that. Be back s
oon.”
“We’ll be waiting for you, Nick. Control out.”
I reached over and patted the dog’s head, checking to make sure he was still breathing. He was. This was one powerful dog and seemed resolute in clinging to life.
As I drove away, keeping a sharp lookout for Katie, I wondered how the dog would manage with three legs. I doubted it would be much of a life for him, but I was determined to help him if I could. He’d helped me on the church roof. It was time I repaid the favor.
Chapter 8
I limped up and down the length of the break room, my ankle complaining with every movement, a mug of strong coffee in one hand.
I’d driven back to base at breakneck speed and was met by a team of people at the entrance. They’d helped me as I’d collapsed out of the van, rambling about an injured dog.
They’d taken him away after much shouting on my part to treat his wounds. It didn’t look good for the dog, but I’d insisted that our on-site medic, Carla Brewster, treat him. We had to do what we could for him. At least give him a decent goodbye if he was too injured to be saved.
Once the dog had been taken to the emergency room, I’d been checked over myself, had my ankle strapped, grabbed a shower, a clean change of clothes, and some food alongside several strong pain pills.
The door to the break room creaked open. Derek from Control poked his head around it, a cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth. “How’s things?”
“Katie’s still missing.” I halted my pacing.
“And you?” Derek pushed the door wider and lit the cigarette. It wasn’t okay to smoke in the break room, but Derek rarely cared about that.
“I made it back in one piece.”
“You gave us a scare in the control room when you went quiet,” Derek said. “We thought you’d been beaten.”
“It’ll take more than a few rabids to get rid of me.” I swirled the dregs of my coffee around.
Derek scrubbed a hand through his thinning gray hair. “There was even a bet running that said you wouldn’t make it.”