What started as a single set of footsteps soon turned into several, although they sounded hesitant, rather than marching directly his way. Metzger knew he couldn’t scramble without being seen, so he quietly stepped to the end of the alcove for a glance at the people who had just entered the gym while he still had some cover. Holding his gun and flashlight closer to his waistline, Metzger peered around the edge of the short tunnel, finding three people pushing another person along. He couldn’t see very well, but he sensed based on their shapes and heights that they were his wards coming to find him, or some new cover.
He decided to reveal his presence to them before they rounded the corner and opened fire at the first thing they spotted.
“It’s me,” he said, walking around the edge of the walkway, holding his firearm and flashlight in the air.
The young man instinctively aimed the sidearm at him until he recognized Metzger. As he lowered the firearm, Metzger noticed their prisoner was bound with some kind of rope behind his back, appearing very miserable about the tables being turned.
“Where have you been?” the older woman asked as though they’d reached the conclusion that Metzger had abandoned them.
“I’ve been trying to avoid this guy’s friends. I met up with some of the people I came here with and one of them was killed.”
All three wards appeared shocked, as though they hadn’t expected a casualty report. He couldn’t blame them, considering they were minding their own business before cruel people abducted them for selfish reasons.
“I found a locked room back here that I was about to open.”
Metzger led the way around the alcove entrance, shining his light on the last remaining lock as he prepared to turn the key.
“I wouldn’t do that,” the prisoner said as Metzger’s fingers grasped the lock and key.
“And why is that?”
“We keep the dead back there.”
Speaking with a somewhat arrogant tone, as though he still had the upper hand somehow, or expected a rescue at any moment, the prisoner didn’t sound genuine or believable to Metzger. Deciding to exercise caution nonetheless, he banged on the door three times with a closed fist to see if the noise drew any undead. Hearing no groans or moans from the other side, and smelling no particularly offensive odors from the gap beneath the door, Metzger was about to open it when he heard a voice from inside.
“Help us!”
Furious, Metzger turned to the prisoner and shoved the barrel of his .357 against the bottom of the man’s jaw.
“You lying sack of shit,” he muttered angrily. “What have you done to these people?”
Providing a sneer, the man said nothing, so Metzger went about undoing the second lock and removing it from the hasp mechanism. He aimed the flashlight inside the door as it swung open, finding more than a dozen men, women, and one child huddled against various walls, seated on the floor amongst their own filth. They all looked pale, gaunt, and sickly as though they hadn’t been fed or rested in days. He immediately felt flush with anger, wondering how any civilized human being could do this to another person. Turning to make certain the young man wasn’t right beside the prisoner as he holstered the .357, Metzger unleashed a quick fist into the restrained man’s jaw, knocking him to the floor.
He suddenly understood why Molly felt no sympathy for the Wardens because he wanted to hunt every last one of them down and make them pay for their sins.
Nine
Realizing he’d knocked the man unconscious, Metzger turned his attention to the sick and injured prisoners within the locker room instead of going on the warpath. His three wards followed him inside, assisting people away from the stench of the locker room, into the gymnasium. Metzger felt certain that opening the locker room door broke some kind of invisible seal, allowing such foul odors to waft into the open.
He radioed Molly to inform her of his find, but couldn’t get a response from her or anyone in her group after three attempts. Perhaps they shut their radios off or silenced them to keep safe while exploring the hallways, so he stopped trying for the time being.
Within a few minutes all of the abducted slaves were seated in the gymnasium, openly thrilled about being free. Metzger didn’t want to crush their high or provide false hope by revealing that their ordeal wasn’t necessarily concluded, so he didn’t elaborate. As he looked them over, some of the prisoners appeared in better condition than others. Perhaps they were more recently taken and hadn’t succumbed to the rigors of hard labor quite yet. Looking at their faces, it occurred to him that none of them looked familiar, so he found it necessary to ask questions.
“Are you the only prisoners here?”
He received confused looks in response, as though he should already know.
“Three of my friends were abducted today. Two white men and a young black girl.”
Only confused faces looked his way.
“They keep us in different places throughout the school,” one woman offered. “And they process us first. Perhaps your friends are in that area.”
“Process?” the younger of Metzger’s two female wards asked.
“We’re told what is expected of us and beaten when we first arrive. Those who don’t comply don’t last very long.”
One of the men glanced across the finished wooden floor toward the area where Metzger encountered a locked door from the outside.
“Sometimes they take people to the other locker room,” he said. “But those people don’t never come back.”
Sighing aloud, Metzger started walking to the other locker room, located within another alcove he ignored when he first entered the gym. Thoughts of what awaited Molly and the others throughout the school overwhelmed him, spinning his mind into a frenzy, so having the simple task of investigating the second locker room helped keep him grounded. Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to find the young man still holding the sidearm, obviously wanting to help.
“If you’re going to come with me, leave the gun with one of them so they can shoot that asshole if he tries to run.”
Metzger hoped one of the women would forbid him to face more peril, but both simply stared at Metzger with trust he felt was misplaced. As a school teacher, he once felt like a papa bear in regards to his students, willing to do anything to keep them safe. They practiced terrorism drills in the schools, and he planned on sacrificing himself to keep them safe if such measures were ever required. In the new world, however, he wasn’t sure how to keep himself safe half of the time.
After delivering the firearm to the younger of the two women the lad returned to Metzger, openly happy about the opportunity to help.
“Is that your mom?” Metzger inquired, receiving an affirmative nod in response.
Now closer to the door, he began to detect some kind of foul odor that didn’t present itself when he first entered the gymnasium.
“What’s your name anyway, kid?” Metzger asked, happy to find a moment where he could converse without bullets flying in his direction.
“Ryan. Ryan Kreig.”
“Good to meet you, Ryan. I’m Dan.”
The two shook hands before Metzger reached for the nine millimeter pistol stuffed in the back of his belt. He handed it to Ryan as they walked cautiously into the second alcove.
“Know how to use that?”
“Pretty much like any other handgun.”
Ryan examined it, finding the safety along the side.
“Good to go.”
Metzger approached the door, which he found modified to the specifications of the other locker room. Again, keys hung above him along the wall, so Metzger reached for them and brought them down. This time, however, a familiar stench hammered his nostrils as he slowly fingered the keyring.
“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked, seeing his hesitation.
“Everything in there is dead.”
Befuddled, Ryan looked Metzger up and down as though he might be possessed.
“How do you know that?”
�
��The smell.”
Before Ryan followed with more questions, Metzger banged on the door with his fist several times. Unlike before, the throaty groans of at least two undead crossed the threshold, providing proof that no one within that dark sanctum ahead of them remained alive. Unfortunately knowing no one on the other side of the door possessed a heartbeat didn’t answer one burning question for Metzger.
He wondered if the already rescued people had missing loved ones, or if the undead behind the door once knew Molly or some of her new group. Metzger hated being insensitive, but he had his own acquaintances to find and the threat of more Wardens lingering throughout the school made him a bit edgy.
“You going to open that or what?” Ryan pressed when Metzger didn’t immediately pop the door open to release the undead.
“This could be dangerous for these people if there are a lot of walkers in there. Better to wait until we know the school is secure first.”
“That’s bullshit,” Ryan complained.
“No it’s not, kid. We could have any one of those assholes bust through these doors with automatic weapons any second. This school isn’t safe yet.”
Contemplating the situation further, he wanted to check on things outside of the gymnasium now that some of the hostages were free. Glancing at the group huddled within the large space, he didn’t see anyone ready to take charge of the situation, making him feel figuratively handcuffed to them.
Even so, he didn’t want to open the door directly before him and risk any number of undead sauntering into the gym. Trusting Ryan with a gun was one thing, but he couldn’t leave the young man in charge of a group, even for a minute. Some of the group started walking in his direction, causing Metzger to feel a bit uneasy. He knew they likely felt antsy about remaining inside the school, so he decided to corral them and explain things before anyone tried anything rash.
“Why aren’t we leaving this place?” an older man in tattered clothes that looked like blue jeans and a hospital gown asked.
Upon closer examination most of the imprisoned people wore clothing combinations that made little sense in the previous world. Perhaps their captors took clothes from the dead, or provided discovered leftovers to their captured workforce.
“It isn’t secure,” Metzger stated. “Everyone please have a seat along the bleachers and I’ll explain what’s going on.”
Some eyes stared at him as though he represented another form of authority arriving to further imprison them. He wasn’t sure where to begin his explanation, considering he didn’t know a thing about this school, or Molly’s makeshift militia determined to retrieve their loved ones. Metzger knew he could easily be selfish and leave these battered folks to find the only three people familiar to him, but it wasn’t in his nature.
Everyone complied, sitting on the uncomfortable floor or opting to stand while Metzger took a reluctant center stage. He slung the automatic weapon around to his backside, with the strap already around his shoulder, to avoid appearing aggressive like the Wardens surely did.
“Look, I’m here with a group of people who may know some of you,” he began, immediately drawing requests for specific names of loved ones.
Everyone clung to the hope that friends and family remained in the aftermath of the apocalypse. Some of these people may have been trapped since the beginning, wondering if anyone they knew survived.
“Whoa,” he said firmly. “I literally met these people this morning so I don’t know all of their names. You’ll meet them soon enough.”
He hoped he wasn’t giving them false hope, and that Molly and the others indeed survived their sweep of the grounds. His mind wandered to the body of the one man who gave his life, accidental as it may have been, for him and Molly to escape gunfire.
“We’re trapped in here,” one woman said. “If they come back they could lock us up or pick us off one by one.”
“The doors are locked,” Metzger said, pointing to the metal yolks holding them in place. “I can’t guarantee your safety if you go into the halls.”
“You can’t guarantee it in here,” Ryan noted with earnest sincerity in his eyes.
“We want to help,” one man offered, “even if we’re just a distraction. You’ve already freed us from a death sentence.”
Metzger looked from left to right, seeing no one look away from him with reluctance or fear. These people had already reached the conclusion that their lives were measured in days. Even as ragtag as they appeared, they wanted to ensure their freedom through personal participation. Curiosity ate at him, so Metzger couldn’t afford to turn down their offer if it meant discovering what happened to the other prisoners and Molly’s group.
He could deal with the undead locked mere feet away from him later and lead the way with an automatic rifle down the hallway. These people likely knew the school exceptionally well, so he decided to use them to his advantage.
Cautiously.
“Fine. But stay behind me.”
Ryan, who remained beside him, gave a look of concern.
“What about him?” he inquired, looking to the still unconscious man lying on the floor who would just as soon have all of them dead as to look at them.
“Lock him up where we found these folks. You can either stay here with your family and watch him, catch up with us, or get the hell out of this place. Just don’t do anything stupid.”
“We owe you for saving us from their fate,” Ryan said, looking to the ragged people awaiting orders from Metzger. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on things.”
“And stay out of that room until you have backup,” Metzger said, looking to the locked room containing several undead.
Metzger began walking toward the double doors, turning as he walked backwards to face the herd of people now following him.
“Who knows the school layout?”
“We all do,” one young woman answered. “I can guide you if you want.”
Metzger nodded affirmatively as she took his side.
“Stay close,” he insisted as he released the latch from the door, allowing the group to pour into the hallway behind him.
Unfortunately the group proved anything but quiet as their footsteps thundered on the tile floors like soldiers carrying out a poorly executed formation. Metzger pressed forward with a pace just short of a casual jog, clearing each corner before making the turn. Before he knew it they reached the darkened area where an odd stench carried throughout the nearby halls. He recalled having Ryan and his family hide within the darkness before finding little more than a dead end to the right.
“Why is it dark?” he asked his volunteer guide as they approached it, deciding to save his flashlight’s battery unless he absolutely needed to use it.
He also didn’t want to give away their position by shining the beam ahead to any potential enemies.
“I don’t know,” she answered, “but they keep the dead inside a nearby room before they bury them. We have to go up and to the left to continue deeper into the school.”
Metzger soon discovered why the corner ahead was incredibly dark as everyone carefully followed him into the pitch black void. After almost two dozen steps he finally saw a sliver of light ahead, noticing that several classrooms on either side were boarded up with black paper on every single window and door so that no light escaped into the hallway. Metzger picked up his pace as the hallway gradually grew lighter, leading to a normal setting a few classrooms later. He wondered if something truly horrific was hidden in the darkness, but didn’t have time to ponder the situation too deeply.
Ahead the hallway branched into several choices and he had yet to see or hear anything that compelled him to pick one direction over another.
“The next two right turns are just more classrooms and the halls will dead-end,” the woman informed him. “And there’s still the upstairs.”
Metzger sighed inwardly. From the outside he noticed a second level while approaching the school, but had yet to find a flight of stairs inside the buildi
ng. He stopped and turned to the rest of the group.
“Can someone quietly check the upstairs to see if anyone is up there?” he asked, panning the group for volunteers.
“I can,” a young man of about twenty said.
“Stop at the top of the stairs and peek,” Metzger said. “You can’t let anyone see you because even my new allies may be trigger happy.”
Metzger hated putting others at risk, but he hadn’t exactly asked to be a leader of men inside a dangerous, unsecured school. Coupled with the fact these people wanted to expedite their escape, he understood all of them risked something, so he didn’t dwell upon the danger for long. Instead he pressed forward, giving each hallway to the right a thorough look before crossing the intersections.
He watched the young man dart down the first intersection they reached, obviously knowing exactly where the stairs were located.
“What’s ahead?” he asked his guide just above a whisper.
“Science labs, a few more classrooms, and the cafeteria at the end. That’s where they keep a lot of the other prisoners. And process us when we come here.”
Metzger felt a hint of excitement at being reunited with the only three people he felt a real connection with in the Buffalo area. Granted, he stayed one night at their house and hadn’t even gone a full day without seeing them, but the thought of them being ripped from their own home angered him. Simply trying to live normal lives, naïve as that may have been, they didn’t deserve mistreatment from anyone.
In the back of his mind he wondered why they hadn’t crossed paths with anyone, either from Molly’s group or the Wardens. Every hallway looked pristine, as though the prisoners were forced to clean them between their duties outside. Any foul odors were confined to the dark area of the halls behind them and the secured room within the gymnasium. A faded aroma of cleaning supplies lingered around him as Metzger began pushing forward, hoping for an answer about the upstairs before getting too far.
The Undead Chronicles_Book 1_Home and Back Again Page 12