“He must have gone down to the square to grab lunch and came back up here to try to treat the bite wound on his arm,” Max whispered. Seeing one of their buddies walking around dead had a strong effect on both Max and Jesse. It wasn’t just strangers on the street anymore.
“I got this,” Jesse said quietly. He took a heavy claw hammer from his belt and slowly approached Fred. He thought of all their ball busting and poker nights over the years, then pushed it all from his mind. Fred was facing the opposite wall, so he hadn’t yet seen or sensed them. Fred happened to turn to his right just as Jesse was about to enter the kitchen and something clicked in Fred’s dead brain. He immediately shuffled toward Jesse, arms reaching out, searching for his first meal. A raspy moan escaped his lips and he stumbled about slightly faster but still at a slow walk. Jesse shoved him in the chest as hard as he could to get Fred’s arms out of his way. Fred faltered backward slightly, and his arms dropped for a moment, but he didn’t notice the shove. Jesse saw his chance and with all of his strength brought the claw of the hammer down on Fred’s head. There was a sickening crunch as the hammer split his skull, followed by a nauseating squelch as the hammer settled deep into his brain. Without pause, Fred dropped to the floor, truly dead this time.
“Holy fuck,” Max said, running his hand through his beard.
“Yeah,” was all Jesse had to say for a moment as he slid down to a crouch with his back against the wall.
“We’ve got to get supplies,” Max said, grabbing his backpack from a nearby chair. He started shoving in water bottles and food from the fridge. Jesse grabbed his own bag and filled it with everything that was left in the fridge. They found several more backpacks left behind by other crew members who were surely dead by this point.
“First aid kits, chips and shit from the counters and anything we can use as weapons,” Max said. They emptied the kitchen of everything edible, grabbed the remaining first aid kits and dumped their contents into the bags. There were a couple packs of smokes on one of the counters. Max hadn’t smoked in years, but he grabbed them anyway.
“Weapons. There are more hammers in the hall. Damn I wish I had my gun with me,” Jesse lamented. Max knelt down and took a utility knife from Fred’s belt. He patted his pockets and found a nice, sheathed knife with a fixed blade in one and a zippo in another. He slipped both into his own pocket then went to the hallway with Jesse to find any tools they could use. There were at least half a dozen heavy claw hammers there. One each should do it but the more he thought about it he decided they should each take several of them. After seeing Jesse split Fred’s skull open with a hammer, it seemed like the perfect weapon but one that could get stuck in someone’s head. They each had room on their tool belts for two hammers, so they threw a couple more in a bag. They grabbed an assortment of screwdrivers, each pocketing a couple and adding the rest to their haul. They topped the bags off with some duct tape, rope, a couple utility knives and several pairs of work gloves.
They paused to look at the full packs, racking their brains to think of anything else they could use. Max noticed a crowbar in the corner and tossed in on top of the nearest bag.
They still heard the sounds of the dead attacking people outside but there were far fewer screams. Sirens blared loudly from the police cars and ambulances that were scattered about the city. A haze of smoke from the helicopter crash was lightly filtering through the open windows of the hotel. There were no sounds coming from inside the hotel and no one, dead or alive, had stepped onto their floor since they’d started gathering up supplies.
“We’ve got a minute,” Max said. “Let’s redistribute these bags. If we have to drop one, I don’t want to lose all of our water or weapons.”
“On it,” Jesse replied. They half emptied all four bags and refilled each with a mixture of water, food, first aid, tools and weapons. “This shit still weighs a ton.”
“At least we can carry it on our backs,” Max said as he double checked his tool belt and front pockets to make sure he had several weapons readily available and within easy reach as Jesse did the same next to him. They both put on heavy work gloves and looked at each other, ready to go.
“No point going down,” Jesse said. “I don’t think we’re going to find anything useful in the hotel rooms and we definitely can’t walk out the front door.”
“We could go down to the 4th floor, bust a window and cut across the roof of the parking garage,” Max replied. “Puts us closer to the ground but keeps us clear of the dead.”
“Yeah, we’d still have a good vantage point. Let’s do it,” Jesse said.
“This is going to be a bitch. We’ve got no idea what we’re going to find on the way down,” Max said.
“And we’ve got to get to the opposite corner of the hotel. We ought to move as close as we can now before we start going down,” Jesse said.
They were at the far end of the floor closest to the front of the hotel and needed to be all the way across to the back end of the hotel when they reached the fourth floor. Though they suspected that they were alone on their floor, it encompassed such a large area that they couldn’t be sure.
“Alright, let’s do this quiet. Slow and quiet past each doorway,” Max said. They had no intention of going anywhere near the elevators. The doors could open and let loose dozens of dead, so they weren’t going to risk it. They moved together slowly, with precise footsteps, in line with each other as if they had trained for this. Having known each other for most of their lives, the two often knew what the other was thinking and sensed each other’s movements and intentions.
Max led the way and slowed at the first door. He took a quick peek but didn’t see or hear anything inside. Jesse moved passed him and led the way to the next door. Again they were greeted with silence. Max stepped past Jesse and they paused at the third door. They heard a familiar shuffling sound as one of the dead searched the suite for a meal. They couldn’t see it and it didn’t sense them, so they quietly made their way past the doorway and onto the next. Another quiet one. They passed yet another empty suite as they continued toward the other end of the building.
They came to a broad opening to their right which opened up to an elevator lobby. Before they could rush past the lobby, they heard noises. There was a low raspy sound and the splatter and squelching noises of what could only be a body being torn open. They heard what Max thought must be intestines slapping out onto the floor. They both stole a quick glance to see if they could hurry past or if they would have to kill it. Max’s breath caught as he saw two of his buddies dead. George was short and stocky but had managed to pull down Paul who was tall and muscular. George had indeed removed Paul’s intestines and was greedily chewing on a rope of them as Max watched. Paul was actually dead. His head was cracked open. Max was glad that Paul hadn’t turned. He hated to see George like that but thought better of stepping in to do anything about it. He didn’t want to be anywhere near the elevator if the doors were to open.
Max shifted his weight carefully then motioned to Jesse to move forward past the elevator bank. George was so entranced by his meal that they managed to slip by unnoticed. Once past, they moved quickly toward the next suite and were grateful to find it empty and quiet.
“Man, I’m ready for a breather,” Jesse said. “Let’s step in here for a second.” The heaviness of the stress that built up as they approached each doorway was affecting both of them. Seeing their buddies dead was getting to them. It was taking a lot longer than they’d expected to clear the floor to the other end of the building. They had to pass several more suites before they reached the halfway point.
“Bro, we’ve gotta put a little space between us and the elevators before we stop. Let’s try for one more,” Max said quietly.
Jessie nodded and they pressed forward to the next suite. He sighed with relief upon finding it empty. They slipped inside, got out of sight of the doorway and both cracked open a bottle of water. Each man stared ahead lost in his own thoughts for a moment until th
ey heard a shuffling sound in the hall.
“Fuck,” Max said quietly. They listened as the shuffling grew closer and was joined by a familiar raspy sound. The dead were quiet, but they all seemed to have a quiet, raspy, windy moan in place of a voice. It was becoming all too familiar. The shuffling noise seemed to multiply as if another zombie had joined in and there was a light tap on the wall in the hallway. Then another tap. Shuffle, tap, shuffle, tap. One of the dead must have been bumping the wall with each step it took. Max and Jesse both held their breath as two of the dead reached the open doorway. The zombies stopped to look through the open doorway, sniffing the air. Then they both shambled into the suite.
Max and Jesse each grabbed a hammer and slowly stood. The dead hadn’t seen them yet but seemed to have smelled them or sensed them somehow. One of them was George, who apparently finished his meal of Paul at the elevator. The other was their foreman, Greg. Max and Jesse both rushed forward with their hammers. Max connected and crushed through Greg’s skull. Jesse’s hammer glanced off the side of George’s head as George had turned at the last second. His hand reached for Jesse’s arm as he tried to swing the hammer again, so with his other hand Jesse pulled a screwdriver from his pocket and drove it straight through George’s eye. The sickening pop as his eyeball burst and exploded with fetid fluids was followed by a twist of the screwdriver to his brain, and George fell for the final time.
Chapter 5
Day 1
Anna and the kids quietly gathered wood from the garage. The house had an attached garage where they parked their cars, but Max also had a detached garage behind the house that he used as a workshop. When Max was home, he was often in his garage building stuff. He’d built and installed their fence as well as the patio around the pool. There was plenty of wood to board up every window and door.
Damon and Camille had long since changed from their swimsuits and both wore t-shirts and jeans. Damon had set the DVR to record several news channels all day and into the night. As horrifying as it was to watch, they wanted to gather every bit of information they possibly could. The virus was spreading so quickly that it likely covered the entire country by now. After everything was boarded up and the house was as secure as they could make it, they would sit down to watch it.
As Anna carried a sheet of plywood to the living room, she grabbed her phone from the counter and tried Max again. She was met with the same static silence she had gotten earlier. She wanted to talk to him more than anything, but she knew he would find a way to get home to them. She couldn’t let herself consider any other possibility.
They’d been boarding up windows for the last several hours. Damon smartly suggested that they board them from both the outside and the inside. He was outside with his dad’s cordless drill covering the windows on the side of the house. The front had been done first and was already boarded up both inside and out with the exception of the front door. The drill and the hammers made noise, but Anna had yet to see any dead on their street. She hoped they would be done before any of the dead showed up in the area. After the sides and the rear of the house were boarded up, they would reinforce the enclosed front porch. It couldn’t hurt to have an added layer of protection there.
Anna sent Camille to fill every cup, bowl, container and bucket she could find with water. She didn’t think the power would go out anytime soon, but she was trying to prepare for every possible contingency. Part of that plan was to gather their guns, ammo, and hunting knives together in a duffel bag. She made sure every gun was fully loaded and left Max’s 9mm semi-automatic out on the kitchen counter.
She added flashlights and batteries then grabbed another duffel bag to fill with most of their first aid kit and medical supplies, half a case of water, a can opener, and as many cans of food as she could fit. A third bag held the remainder of the case of water and cans of food. A final bag held a change of clothes for each of them, her favorite family photo, some kitchen knives, scissors, duct tape, rope, candles, matches, and a few other odds and ends. She planned to top it off with a couple hammers and screwdrivers. On top of the bags she left a huge package of toilet paper.
Anna had every intention of staying in their home unless and until it became impossible to do so. Their home was set back far from the road, well hidden behind trees and fencing, and surrounded by trees along each side as well as the rear. However, if the dead were to ever discover that they were inside, she knew the privacy fence may not hold them back, but the trees butting up against the fence on either side would certainly help. Their “go bags” were to remain centrally located in the house so they were easily accessible if they needed weapons or if they needed to leave quickly.
Even if the power went out, they were well stocked with essentials. Much to Max’s amusement, Anna always insisted on buying in bulk. She liked being stocked up on everything, and she liked to keep everything organized. She made regular trips to Costco for everything from water to toothpaste and everything in between. Canned goods, frozen foods, dry foods, toilet paper, cleaning supplies, shampoo, cleaners, junk food, soda, beer and more. Even their spices were in super-sized containers. She wasn’t a doomsday prepper or anything and their supplies certainly would run out eventually, but they were set for a while.
As Anna was boarding up the inside of the patio door that led to the deck of the pool, Camille came in. She looked tired and was drenched with sweat. Boarding up the house was exhausting work.
“Mom, Damon had an idea. He thinks we should reinforce the windows with the iron bars that came with the house,” Camille said tiredly.
“Hmm,” Anna thought about it. She had completely forgotten about the bars. When they bought the house there had been iron security bars over most of the windows. Max and Anna had removed them for both aesthetic and security reasons. If there were ever a fire, the bars could trap them inside the house. But things were different now. With that, she made her decision. She wouldn’t bar the front door, the elevated bathroom windows or any part of the garage. That would leave them with multiple escape routes.
“Honey, tell Damon to come in here for a minute.”
Damon, his face red, sweaty and covered in dirt, came in a moment later. He had been working hard non-stop for hours.
“Damon, get a drink of water and eat a protein bar,” Anna pulled him close for a sweaty hug. “Then start with the bars. Don’t bar the bathroom windows, the front door or the garage door, but go ahead and hang them everywhere else. I’ll finish the wood on the side and back of the house while you start out front.”
“You got it, Mom,” Damon replied as he grabbed a water bottle.
“Hey, great thinking kiddo. I’m proud of you,” Anna told him. He nodded then headed out to Max’s workshop to start hauling the iron bars up front.
“Camille, I know you’re tired, but I need you to help carry bars out to your brother. Drag them if you have to. He’s going to have his hands full installing them.”
“Okay,” Camille sighed. It was hard work, but she knew it had to be done.
Anna resumed her work installing the large sheets of plywood over the patio door. She looked out at the pool and thought of all the happiness it had brought to her family. After the final boards were in place, she might never see it again. She quickly wiped away a tear and finished covering the inside of the door. Then she went out the front door to grab more plywood from Max’s workshop and boarded up the patio door from the outside.
It was time to do a perimeter check to make sure the dead still hadn’t arrived in her neighborhood. Anna walked around the side of the house to start her perimeter check there and make her way forward to the front of their property. She was surprised to see how quickly Camille and Damon were working to hang the iron bars. Damon had certainly learned a lot about building from his father. The front of the house was already done, and they had started on the side. They had also hung plywood on the windows of the enclosed front porch.
She began her perimeter check by walking down the long drivewa
y toward their wrought iron gate but stayed to the side near the fence so that she wouldn’t be visible to anyone on the other side of the gate. It occurred to her that they should probably put boards across that as well, at least on the inside of the gate. It was strong and could be locked, but she thought it might be good to make sure no one could see through the bars of the gate. As she got further from the house, she made sure to soften her footsteps and kept her approach as silent as possible. Once at the front of their property, she stayed behind the brick wall and peered through the gate from an angle. Her street was quiet as usual, and no cars passed by. She could see two of her neighbor’s homes across the street to the left and everything appeared normal. She walked back a little ways toward her house then cut past the gate from a distance and approached the brick wall from that side. That angle allowed her to see one of her other neighbor’s homes to the right. She watched for a moment and thought that everything appeared normal there as well.
The third house down had two cars in the driveway, which wasn’t unusual. But the silver SUV sat with the driver’s door wide open and no one in sight. “Shit,” Anna hissed. She stayed there watching quietly for five minutes but saw nothing. She willed herself to be patient as she was not a patient woman and watched for another five minutes. She didn’t see anyone living or dead, but the open car door was a bad sign. The SUV and the car next to it as well as a few trees obscured her view of the home’s front door. She couldn’t tell whether it was open or not.
Chronicles of the Undead | Book 1 | Urban Gridlock Page 4