by Sawyer, JT
Carlie could see a look of helplessness washing over Eliza’s face and realized she needed to occupy her with something that could contribute to the group’s wellbeing. “Right now, the best thing you can do for us is to scour through the cabinets and supplies here and assemble anything that can be of value to us, got it?”
Eliza nodded and unfolded her arms, looking over at the professor, who had stepped forward. “I’ll give you a hand, Eliza,” he said, and they both walked into the adjoining room.
Carlie began thrusting her weapons back in their holsters and stuffing the remaining magazines in her vest. Then she stood up and met Phillip, who was returning from the back room.
“Agent Simmons, are you red-faced because of the heat or did I miss something?” he said.
“Being hardheaded can be a good thing, especially for a woman, but right now, I just need Eliza to be a capable follower,” she said, rolling her eyes. “How’s the area outside look?”
“It’s about one hundred meters to the SUVs. There are a few of those infected things wandering around between us but not like the numbers we saw earlier. There are several large cement flower gardens interspersed along the walkway and a couple of park benches. If you can bound between the flower gardens, you should have ample cover until the last third, when it’ll have to be an all-out sprint to the vehicles.”
“Sounds like fun. I mean, who wouldn’t want to run an urban obstacle course with dead cannibals pawing at your sides?”
Phillip emitted a half-smile, which put a crease in his pasty cheeks. “You’ve gotten us this far and the army or somebody should be here soon, right?”
Carlie watched his fingers nervously flutter on the strap of his weapon and could see the terror in his eyes. He comes out here to grill me and try to toss my career in the hole, and now he’s sidling up next to me. What a gimp—and I have to trust my back to this guy. I just hope he remembers how to distinguish the good guys from the bad guys in a firefight.
“Time to roll,” she said, moving over to the tool rack in the maintenance closet and pulling down a garden shovel. “This might be a better tactical choice than my firearms, so I don’t bring any unwanted attention. At least until I can get to my pistol suppressor in the vehicle.”
They walked over to the side exit, which was nestled along the rear of the building. Carlie gently opened the door an inch and peered through the crack. Immediately before her was a small grove of palm trees and low shrubs which skirted along the right side of the arboretum for twenty feet. The air creeping in carried the pleasant fragrance of sweet lilac flowers coupled with the repulsive odor of baked flesh from the bodies littering the hot cement. Her mind struggled to focus on the lilacs but the other smell stabbed through the warm night air, quickly removing any trace of comfort that this was all a bad dream.
She squatted down and continued opening the door while creeping out onto the walkway. Phillip stood in the doorway, slightly off to the side to avoid silhouetting himself in the entrance, while providing rear cover support.
Carlie looked over to the Suburbans in the distance. Their hoods reflected in the faint moonlight. She panned over to the cement gardens. Holding the spade in her hands, Carlie got into a hunched position and turned back to nod at Phillip. Then she began creeping along the cluster of manzanita bushes to her right, beyond which she could see numerous contorted dead bodies strewn about the courtyard.
Chapter 16
Carlie was skulking beside the edge of the second cement flower garden when she heard a dragging noise to her left. Gripping the shovel, she squatted low against the coarse concrete wall. She still felt the nervous jolt of adrenaline surging through her entire body and queasiness in her stomach but it had returned to more manageable levels.
The campus lights lining the sidewalk were not functioning and she had to strain her eyes in the dim moonlight to see what was headed her way. The air held a hint of moisture and a thundercloud was towering in the distance. She couldn’t shake the nauseating odor of blood and viscera that was emanating from the cement path, and she raised her shirt collar over her nose to help quell the stench.
Carlie eased her head up between a clump of yucca plants and could see a disheveled person with a soiled red chin shuffling down the sidewalk. It looked like a man in his early twenties who wore a red jersey. His face was the color of butter and his eyes were bulging out of deeply furrowed cheeks. The creature’s right sleeve was torn off and one shoe was missing as he staggered up to a headless corpse by a park bench. It sniffed the air, searching for the body, then knelt down and began greedily tearing into the trapezius muscles.
Christ—what the hell is that thing? Never heard of anything like this before. It’s like the whole world has turned into something out of a midnight horror flick.
As she began to slide forward while keeping her eyes fixed on the scene of horror, the edge of the tarnished shovel grazed the concrete wall. The creature instantly whipped its head around in her direction and sat up, sniffing the air. She saw its wild eyes trying to locate the sound and looking right at her but not comprehending her still image. The wind is carrying my scent away. The creature can’t locate me. Its eyesight must be severely affected by the darkness. Finally, one thing I can use to my advantage.
A second later it went back to feasting, but then it lifted its head again and stood. This time it focused its gaze in the opposite direction, towards the nursing building across the street where a group of eight other creatures were pounding on a door. The creature before Carlie let out a guttural cry and then bounded over the pavement to join the others, who had succeeded in breaking through the door. They disappeared inside and Carlie heard some muffled screams, followed by silence.
After skirting the flowerbed, she crept up to a park bench and could see the Suburbans thirty yards ahead. She thought back to the many deer hunts she had gone on with her father in upstate New York. She had learned skills of stealth that she had further refined in the urban wilderness while working various security details over the years. Carlie remained in a low squat and cautiously moved from one derelict light post to the next, avoiding stepping on the scattered body parts littering the pavement.
Cautiously she beelined for her SUV, which was half hanging out of the shattered front lobby of the bioresearch building. She made it to the driver’s side and paused to make sure she hadn’t alerted any creatures. Leaning the shovel next to the front of the vehicle, she climbed inside over the back seats. Depressing the finger pad code on the lid of the weapons locker, she pulled out a dozen rifle and pistol magazines, two pistol suppressors, a first-aid kit, four smoke grenades, the satellite phone and solar battery charger, two pairs of night-vision goggles, a lock-pick set, and the .308 sniper rifle. She jammed the smaller items in a backpack from the rear cargo area and then slung the rifle across her back after exiting the Suburban.
She began retracing her steps when she heard subdued voices coming from behind a door under the stairs. Carlie moved past the front of the vehicle and listened intently. She could make out a man and woman whispering. Moving towards the utility closet, she slowly threaded the suppressor onto the barrel of her pistol, then positioned herself against the wall with the weapon aimed low.
She tapped lightly on the hollow door. “Who is inside? Identify yourself.”
The voices grew silent and then she heard a man’s voice. “David and Nadine. We’re students here. Are you the police?”
“I’m federal law enforcement. Unlock the door—you’re not safe holed up here.”
She heard the hinges creak as the door slowly opened, revealing the pale faces of the young pair. The man looked to be around nineteen and had shoulder-length hair and multiple ear piercings on his left side; he was clad in pajama bottoms, slippers, and a white sleeveless shirt. The woman was a few years older with a deeply tan face and blond pigtails. She had almond-brown hair and was dressed in jeans, a red t-shirt, and cowboy boots.
Like petrified zoo animals peering ou
t of their cage, they slowly moved out of the confines of the closet and stood up next to Carlie.
“You’re a cop?” said David.
“Can you get us out of here?” whispered Nadine.
“No to the first question and a big maybe to the second. How long have you been hiding here?”
“I don’t know,” said Nadine. “We were headed to bio class after breakfast when those things started attacking everyone.”
Carlie looked over the man’s clothing while shaking her head. “You go to class in your PJs and velvet slippers, eh?”
David frowned. “What are you doing here and what’s with the rifle?”
“My name’s Carlie. I work for the federal government and what I’m doing here will be revealed to you shortly when we get back to a more secure location over by the pharmacy building.”
“We’re going out there with all those things roamin’ around?” said David.
“I just came from there. Follow my lead and don’t make any abrupt movements—I think these creatures have poor vision at night.”
They both reached back into the closet and removed their daypacks, then followed Carlie out to the rear bumper of the SUV. She scanned the courtyard and then motioned for them to drop low and follow her to the first flower garden. She stopped and grabbed the shovel, handing it to David, who gave it a puzzled look and then handed it to Nadine, who gripped it firmly in her calloused hands.
They made it to the edge of the pharmacy building and paused to survey the region behind them. Carlie saw three more creatures forty yards away fighting over a mutilated arm and a few more over by a drinking fountain, wandering aimlessly. As she turned to move, she noticed a lone figure striding down the central sidewalk that separated the courtyard. This figure moved with purpose and was not staggering like the others. It moved towards the drinking fountain, stopping momentarily to smell the air around the other creatures, then shoved them out of the way and continued walking north. It had the bearing of an aggressive Rottweiler intent on defending its territory.
The trio resumed stalking to the back door of the pharmaceutical building where Phillip was waiting. Once they were inside, they retreated back to the stairwell as he quietly locked the door.
“Whoa, that’s some serious firepower, bro,” said David to Phillip after looking over the display of weapons hanging off his shoulder and belt.
Phillip moved alongside Carlie. “Where did you find these two scholars?” he whispered.
“Crouching in a broom closet by the vehicles.”
Phillip leaned closer. “Under normal circumstances, I’m all for providing assistance to those in need, but what are we supposed to do with them? There’s only going to be so much room on the rescue helo.”
“We’ll cross that bridge soon enough. I wasn’t about to leave ’em alone and defenseless,” she said, taking the sat phone and spare batteries out of her pack and handing him the sniper rifle. “I’m going to step over by an open window out back and make a call to cent-com in D.C.” Carlie walked off, leaving Phillip to go through the contents of the pack.
****
Over by the far wall, the four survivors were nervously doing first-name introductions and exchanging stories of their narrow escapes. After staring at Eliza and then back at Phillip in the distance, David raised his eyebrows and snapped his fingers. “Hey, wait a second, Eliza, is your last name Huntington, as in President Huntington’s daughter?”
Eliza scrunched her nose and lowered her head. “I’m afraid so.”
“You’re the one on campus with the entourage of guys in suits always following you from a distance, aren’t you?” said Nadine.
“Check that box, too. And don’t forget the reporters and photographers hanging out in the cafeteria, by my dorm room, and the coffee shops around town. Wherever I go, there they are, waiting for the moment when I slip up.”
“So those two agents are here to get you out? Aren’t there any more of them?”
Eliza looked up at the ceiling while folding her arms. “That was the plan.” Eliza gazed over David and Nadine’s unkempt appearance and took a deep sigh. “I’ve always longed for the day when I can look like you two—and just be so…so ordinary.”
“Still, it must be totally rad having the White House as your home,” said David.
“I hate the White House, and the Oval Office, and Camp David, and family dinners with visiting dignitaries, and anything else associated with politics. There’s a reason I came to Arizona—to get as far away from that world as possible, so spare me the ‘aren’t you lucky’ speech. I’m not even sure why we’re talking about this given all that’s just happened.”
Chapter 17
As Jared dashed for the campus building, he glanced over his shoulder and saw two creatures twenty yards away and gaining. One of them was wearing a shirt that read Cheese Freak’s Pizzeria and the other was a football player in cleats. Then he heard dull thuds and saw them collapsed on the sidewalk, their heads split apart. He briefly saw a glimmer of rifle fire from a distant roof downtown. Jared made a sharp left turn by a campus security booth and then made the final sprint for the building ahead. As he sprinted across the lot, he stepped in a puddle of semi-dried blood, which soiled his Nikes. He looked down in disgust.
Across the courtyard, he saw a few creatures wandering around but no sign of movement near the illuminated lobby before him. The sign outside the entrance indicated it was the Toxicology Laboratory. He could see the extra thick security glass and reinforced foundations around the lobby.
Jared knew he would be silhouetted by the light so he opted to head to a side door fifty feet to the rear. He was standing in the darkness a few feet from a headless woman. Beside her wispy, fly-bitten corpse was a spilt bag of groceries. In the subdued light he made out several squashed bananas, a bottle of shampoo, assorted yogurts, and a package of sugar-free Gummi Bears. He reached down and grabbed the sweets, popping a sticky green bear into his mouth.
He shoved the rest of the package in his back pocket and then swiveled his head to either side, searching for movement. Jared crouched low and darted for the metal exit door, gluing his back to the stucco wall upon arriving. He tucked one Glock into his beltline and worked the door handle with his right hand as one end of the handcuff swung like a pendulum, its polished surface glinting in the faint light.
Feeling the door locked, he shrugged and then held his right hand up so one end of the handcuff chain dangled over the deadbolt, and then placed the muzzle of the Glock on the chain. Jared noticed his hands trembling, which caused him to scrunch his eyebrows together in wonderment. He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger as the .40 caliber bullet shattered the silver chain and liberated the door lock. He opened one eye and tried to hold back a smile of self-admiration, then yanked the door open and ran inside, entering a stairwell.
Emergency lights shone throughout the levels above. He was about to sprint up the stairs to the fourth floor, where he had seen the lights, but heard the sound of screaming. His eyes raced along the walls as he tried to shut out the noise and think of where to run. He spotted an acrylic sign on the wall to his right which read “Mortuary Sciences Below.” Great—more dead bodies. Sounds like the shindig I just left.
He jogged down the cement stairs for two levels to the last floor and slowly opened the heavy door, his Glock trained on the hallway. He could hear faint voices–coming from a room ten feet away.
Hey, alright, some other survivors. Now if they can only be the U of A cheerleading squad, I can die a happy man, he thought as he entered the chilly air of the hallway.
He stood outside the stainless-steel door and strained to make out the voices inside. It sounded like five or six people were discussing their plan for fleeing the campus. He tapped the pistol on the door and moved alongside the cement wall, hearing the voices inside grow silent.
“Hey, open up in there. I’m all alone and need a place to hide out.” He could hear the voice of a young woman arguing with othe
rs inside.
“You wanna survive the night, you should consider letting me in,” Jared said. “I’ve just come from downtown and there are a whole lot of creatures out there who are gonna be looking for fresh meat soon.”
The arguing continued inside until the woman finally told the others to be quiet. Then the door opened slightly and Jared saw the face of a lovely brunette appear with a golf club in her hand. She was dressed in navy blue pants and a light blue shirt, and wore a bronze badge above her shirt pocket which read, Amy, Paramedic. She moved into the hallway, looking over Jared and the pistols in his possession and then scanning both directions of the hallway. “Quick, get inside,” she said, tugging on his shirt, the sleeve of which he made sure concealed the single handcuff.
Chapter 18
Carlie extended the folding antenna on the top of the Iridium sat phone and dialed in the code for central command in Washington. She stood by a slightly ajar window for better reception, feeling the cold air trickle out past her tired fingers.
Four attempts and ten minutes later, she tried calling Washington as well as Secret Service offices in the Four Corners region, but to no avail. Carlie closed the window and powered off the device, then returned to the group, giving a grimace to Phillip as she approached.
“Was there any luck with contacting your colleagues?” said the professor, who stood with his hands buried in his pockets.
“No, but standard protocol is to try at the top of each hour over a ten-minute interval,” she said, stowing the phone back in her pack.
“What’d you see out there?” said the professor.
“A few dozen creatures milling about. They seem to have piss-poor eyesight at night, which was mighty helpful. I also saw one that exhibited near alpha-dog behavior over the others. Not sure what that’s about.”