by Andrew Lauck
“Where did they come from?” one yelled over the surrounding gunfire as he ejected a magazine to reload. Too much was going on for me to catch who said it.
“Yeah, and where the hell is Schafer?” another replied, following suit with the reload. I have to admit that they made a great team, and if left alone they would make fairly quick work of my zombie harvest. Waving my forearm down to tell Matthew to stay back, I crept forward into the courthouse lobby and made my way over to the crates behind the soldiers.
Just as I reached the crate of grenades, one of the soldiers dropped a magazine and turned to grab one out of the box behind him. I stopped dead in my tracks with my arm extended toward one of the explosives, but I was in the open, and he caught me out of his peripheral vision. It was one of those moments where, for a split-second, you could hear a pin drop if it weren’t for the zombies. And the gunfire.
“Son of a bitch!” he shouted, but his weapon was out of ammo, and we both knew it. I grabbed two of the grenades and pulled the pins from both, counting off three seconds in my head. As I did that, though, he grabbed a fresh magazine and reloaded, bringing up his weapon. I briefly exposed myself as I chucked them toward the main entrance, drawing my Sig, and diving behind the next crate over for cover to avoid the blasts. He fired and a lucky round caught me in the leg, but I gritted my teeth and ignored it since I had bigger problems.
The other two soldiers had figured out what was happening, and one shifted around to fire on me. I saw the first soldier’s sights lay squarely on my chest and knew he had me dead to rights, when his head snapped back and he collapsed in a quickly expanding pool of blood, his trigger finger reflexively clenching and a burst of fire hitting the ceiling above.
That momentary diversion let me move to a better vantage point, and I ducked in time for a series of bullets to punctuate the stack of wooden crates I had been using as cover moments before. I looked over in time to see Matthew lowering his smoking M4, and I nodded a thanks to him but motioned for him to get down. One second later, twin grenade blasts went off and everything went to shit.
The barricaded entrance exploded in a cloud of dust and concrete fragments, showering the entire room and shrouding everything in smoke. I yelled at Matthew to start heading upstairs, assuring him that I’d be right behind him. I could hear one of the soldiers still firing at the oncoming zombies and made out the faint outlines of several zombies entering the courthouse before footsteps to my right got my attention.
A straight kick came out of the dust, and my hands reflexively let go of my weapon to grab the boot before it connected with my sternum. Shifting my weight onto my back foot, I shoved upward and threw my attacker backward, but he followed that up by jumping up and kicking me in the head with his other foot. If you’ve never been kicked by a combat boot to the head, I strongly recommend against it.
The kick sent me to the ground, but I rolled into it and recovered quickly. I pushed off the ground to face him, disoriented and barely staying up. I was about to lash out with a right hook, but a zombie stepped in close from my left, and I was forced to shift my focus momentarily. While I had foreseen this kind of predicament happening, I had hoped it wouldn’t because things were getting complicated enough already without the zombies I brought with me adding to the mix.
I threw aside the outstretched arm it tried to grab me with and snapped a kick into its knee, snapping the bone and causing the zombie to fall to the opposite side. Before I could land the finishing blow to its skull, though, the soldier took advantage of my distraction and came in from my side with an attempted punch to my unprotected kidney. I dropped my hips and turned into his punch, catching his forearm under my arm and punching the inside of his elbow. But this was no townsperson with a lack of training, it was a soldier with experience in combat, so he had the sense to lean left and pull me in with the forearm I still held. His left fist caught me in the jaw, and my head twisted as stars popped into my vision again, but instead of following up with a second hit, he kicked me back to free his right arm.
He also happened to push me back into the zombie behind me who now had a friend that wanted to join the party. Letting out a string of profanities, I knew I needed to finish this fight and move fast before too many more showed up. I pulled my Sig, and shot the one on the ground since I deemed that one the most dangerous. I know it had a broken leg, but that meant it would be crawling, and naturally I would not think to look down for my enemy. To keep all of my enemies in front of me, I pulled the second zombie closer and rolled past it to come up on the other side.
My new zombie friend began to go after the soldier, but before I had time to laugh, I was on the defensive because my roll had put me right next to yet another zombie who just wanted a hug. It lunged forward, forcing me to backpedal, and I put my left forearm against its throat to keep it back. While that bought me time, the zombie continued to drive me backward, and my lower back smashed into a desk and sent a spike of pain up my spine. With the Sig in my left hand, I hit the zombie with a right hook as hard as I could from this angle, and its body tilted, giving me the opening I needed to propel myself up. The zombie came at me again, but I held my right palm open to slap aside its arms and smashed its head down with my left. Feeling it try to get up again, I used my entire body and put all my weight into repeating the introduction of desk to zombie. The head caved in on the side and blood spurted across the desk, so I risked a quick glance to the third soldier to make sure he was still distracted. Gunfire echoed throughout the lobby, so I knew he was fighting for his life, but I could just barely make out the silhouettes of several zombies pouring into the courthouse. Satisfied that I wouldn’t get shot from behind, I spun around to return focus to the soldier.
He had finished his zombie as well and was already charging at me, but I didn’t have time to deal with him. The dust was beginning to settle, and the room was clearing. Pretty soon, the zombies would be able to see us, and we would all be in a struggle against a vastly larger number of infected. Before I could bring my Sig up, the soldier reached me and leaned into a tackle, sending us both backward and deeper into the lobby. I crashed down onto a table and it collapsed under our combined weight, the sudden falling reaction causing me to lose the grip on my Sig. Prying his shoulder out of my ribcage, I pulled my knee into my chest and kicked out. The soldier flew back and landed a few feet from me, but by then several zombies had managed to get past the third soldier and began to swarm the fallen soldier. Five zombies surrounded him, and I heard him cry out for help as they tore into him, but I rolled over, picked up my Sig, and made a run for the stairs.
As I took the stairs three at a time, biting back the pain in my thigh, I was halfway to the second floor when I heard a bloodcurdling scream below me and knew the soldier was done for. I might have been able to help, but there would be time for guilt trips later. If there was a later. With the rattle of gunfire from the last soldier still holding his ground, I pushed off the last step and found Matthew waiting silently on the opposite side of a closed door. I counted down with my fingers and shoved my shoulder into the door between me and the room I had stayed in with Kat just a few nights earlier.
My eyes took in the situation all at once: Kat tied up in the middle of the floor, Schafer kneeling with a gun trained on me and another resting on Kat’s head, Matthew directly behind me shouting, “Katherine!” If I moved my Sig at all, I had no doubt that Schafer would shoot me or Kat instantly, so I forced my body to remain still.
“This is between you and me, Eric. The kid stays outside,” Schafer said calmly from his chair. It’s never a good thing when the bad guy sounds calm. Emotional people can be manipulated, pulled in several directions to give you an opening. This wasn’t a good start to the confrontation. Matthew gave me a look of fear, but I nodded to him, and he quietly backed out of the doorway. “Now, close the door, and then drop your weapon.”
“How do I know you won’t just kill us both?” I asked, easing the door shut and turning slowly to
face Schafer.
“Don’t test me, Eric. Drop your gun now, or I shoot you both.” I squatted slowly and set my Sig on the floor before standing back up. “Thank you. Am I to assume that my sniper is dead?”
“Yeah, he’s dead.” I kept my tone carefully neutral, hoping I could get Schafer to monologue like a good little bad guy. If he had control over his emotions and wouldn’t overreact, I may be able to draw him into an ego trip.
“And the commotion downstairs? Are all my men dead?” He was staring down at Kat, but I knew he was watching me for any movement.
“I think one is still kicking, though I don’t know for how long. You can still get him and leave, Schafer.”
Ignoring my last sentence, Schafer said a calm, “Thank you” before the M9 in his right hand went off and I felt a sharp pain in my side as Katherine screamed. The bullet rocked me back, but to my credit I didn’t completely fall on my ass. I fell to a kneeling position, my right hand covering the wound. Schafer got up and rolled his head to the side, stretching. Cue bad guy monologue, center stage.
“You know, it’s just us out there Eric. Zombies,” he pointed his gun toward the door, “and humans. But there’s one thing that you’re too damn stubborn to accept.” He dropped to a crouch next to me, pressing the barrel of the M9 against my temple. “We are all monsters. Sure, there are people like you that still cling to your beliefs and faith, but in the end we all do what we have to in order to survive. I mean, think about it, how many people have you killed for this girl? Ten? Twenty? Shit, man, you’ve probably killed more people than I have, and I’m supposedly the bad guy?” Schafer stopped and seemed to take a second to think, pushing me over with the M9 before standing.
I pulled myself across the floor, clutching my side, and trying to bring Schafer away from Katherine. Blood was steadily leaving my body, and time was of the essence for me to act before I bled to death. I just needed the right opportunity. While I waited for that moment to arrive, I slowly withdrew the knife Kat had given me from my left pocket.
“Dammit, Eric, things were working great until you showed up! You and your fucking heroic sensibilities; trying to do the right thing in a world where everything is wrong. Well, look where that got you. I’ve gotta hand it to you. You are one tough son of a bitch, and I wish you would have seen things my way. Unfortunately for both of us, you’re too stubborn. I just have one question before I kill you.” He crouched down next to me with his arms draped over his knees. “How does it feel to be a monster?”
“Right now,” I dug my foot into the ground and launched myself forward with all my strength, flicking open the knife in the same motion and shoving it at Schafer’s throat. Schafer dropped his M9 and caught my hands at the last moment, but I slammed him backward into the opposite wall and pushed with everything I had, bringing the blade close enough to draw blood. “It feels pretty fuckin’ good.”
“How about now?” He yelled, kicking me in the thigh. I let out a howl of pain, but kept my grip on the knife. He repeated the kick and pushed toward me, sending me to the ground. “Does it still feel good?” The look in his eyes was wild with hatred as he brought up his knee and leaned it into my side, sending a pain through my body like I had never felt. My knife started to ease back from his throat. “You can’t beat me, Eric! You’re still holding onto that part of you, and that—” Schafer was cut off as his body dropped, plunging the knife deep into his throat. His knee slid from my side and I withdrew the knife, embedding it again in his trachea. His mouth gurgled blood, and he slid down, leaving a thick, bloody smear behind.
“That’s why you always tie the feet, asshole.” Kat rolled from behind him, having pushed him down despite her hands being bound. His eyes shifted to meet mine in a look of tragic surprise before his eyelids heavily lowered, and he was dead. I let myself fall back onto the floor with my hands resting on my knees. I could tell from the look on Kat’s face that Schafer was the first person she had killed, and I motioned her over, holding her close and telling her it was alright. Collecting myself, I called out for the kid to come in. Matthew pushed open the door seconds later, M4 in his hands, telling me he was waiting for my signal the whole time. His eyes grew wide when he saw me bleeding, but I pointed to Kat’s hands, and told him to cut her loose. I would have used my knife, but it was still lodged in Schafer’s trachea.
Once he set her free, Kat hugged her arms around me and helped me lean against the wall opposite of Schafer. She walked over and pulled the knife out, wiping it off on Schafer’s shirt before folding it gently, and returning it to me. I could tell how scared she still was because her hands were shaking.
“Eric…you’ve gotta get up. We’ll get you help.”
“So, how was your week? I gotta say, mine’s been a little too busy. I missed you, though, so I just had to come visit.”
“What? Eric, come on. Let’s go.” She tugged on my arm, and I gently reached up to place my hand over hers. My eyes met hers, and I saw the tears starting to well up.
“Kat, this is my last stop. I don’t think I’m going anywhere.”
“Yes, you are! We’re going to get you out of here and fix you up. You just have to stand up, and we’ll get to the car-”
“Matthew’s not such a bad guy after all, so just stick with him, and you should be okay. Just don’t let him try anything funny, or I’ll have to haunt his ass.”
“Eric, I need you!”
“No, you don’t. Not anymore. I’ve taught you a lot, but you’ve got all the strength inside that you need to survive, Kat. I’m more proud of you than you know, but you have to leave me now.” I looked to Matthew. “Get her to the jeep, kid. Keep her safe. And thanks for everything.” Turning back to Kat, I pulled her close, and felt her tears touch my shirt. “I love you, Katherine.” With that, I held her at arm’s-length to get a good look at her before Matthew helped her up and took her from the room. I watched them leave, thinking back to every decision I had made, and not regretting a damn one of them.
I heard distant shouts and gunfire as the kid led Kat down the stairs and through the back door. Knowing that Kat was safe made me smile as I pulled out my journal and began to write. As my consciousness began to fade in and out, I thought about all the people I had lost or killed and wondered if it was even worth it to keep fighting in this world.
Just as I got caught up in the events of the night, I heard shuffling outside, and a zombie walked into the room. It ambled toward me with that familiar, awkward gait, and I could see the hunger in its eyes, a hollow thirst that never let up. Even though I was dying, I still reached for my Sig. What can I say, I refused to give up the fight that easy. Pulling myself along the floor, my fingers brushed the handle, and the Sig spun further out of reach. The zombie was on top of me by then, and there wasn’t much I could do, but I heard a gunshot go off at the door, and the zombie’s head snapped to the side. It fell over with a new hole in its forehead, its soulless eyes looking finally satisfied in a disturbing way.
Looking past it, I saw Jessica Mills standing in the doorway lowering her M16 to a ready stance. She smirked at me until she noticed my hand covering the gunshot which brought a look of concern to her features. Kat came in the room shortly after, followed by the kid.
“Son of a bitch. What are you doing here?” I yelled at him, but he said nothing as he and Mills helped me to my feet. Kat picked up my Sig and holstered it for me before we all headed down the stairs and out the back way. The first floor looked like a warzone, with bodies, blood, and shell casings everywhere. Smoke filled the air again, and before I asked I saw the remnants of three smoke grenades on the ground. I briefly spotted the last of Schafer’s men, his dead body surrounded by dozens of zombies. I noticed a bullet wound to the forehead and realized a zombie hadn’t been his downfall. I had to give the bastard credit, he went down with one hell of a fight.
Three of Matheson’s men wandered through the lobby checking bodies to make sure they wouldn’t get up again. Outside, I recognized our je
ep, and two other jeeps awaited with two friendlies standing guard. Mills helped me in, and we all exfiltrated the area, one jeep in front of us while the rest of the soldiers were in a jeep behind us. I guess Matheson had launched his strike after all.
Kat filled me in on the way back to the compound that Mills and her soldiers were halfway to the courthouse when they ran into each other. Matthew explained that I was injured, and Mills decided to come back for me even though her primary objective of eliminating Schafer was already done. Obviously, Kat wasn’t going to sit out, so she convinced the kid to turn their jeep around and help. The damn kid broke his promise, but I ignored that and thanked everyone for coming back.
Floodlights washed over our vehicles as we approached, the brightness hurting my eyes as I fought to stay awake. I could see the heavy sheets of rain coming down in the light and wondered if I had seen a storm this bad in a while. Kat sat in the backseat with my head resting on her lap, talking to me to try, and keep my eyes open. It was the hardest fight of my life, and I was losing.
I was rushed to the medical tent on arrival to the compound where they removed my clothes and immediately went to work replenishing my blood, removing the bullets, and sewing me up. Hours later, the doctor said they had done everything they could, but the amount of blood lost had me in the danger zone. Okay, he didn’t say that, but I paraphrased. I asked for Kat to come in, and she helped me finish writing the last section of this journal because my hands were shaky and my handwriting was already bad enough without blood loss entering the equation.