Dead Outside (Book 1)

by Oliver, Nick

  I looked for something I could use as a weapon. My machete was on the other side of the room, next to my stolen backpack. Just as I got up to make a dash, Wade tackled me from the side, knocking me into a wall and smashing a clay pot of a potted plant. I shook off the shock of what just happened, just in time to see him grab a leg I shot off of his desk and brandish it like a bat.

  I acted fast and grabbed a handful of dirt from the smashed pot and threw it at his face, blinding him. While Wade was trying to wipe the dirt out of his eyes I clambered to my feet and punched him in his left cheek, knocking him backward. As he was falling he threw the hunk of wood and hit me in the abdomen. I hunched over in pain.

  He got up first and pulled me to my feet, grabbed my shoulders, kneed me in the gut, in the same spot the hunk of wood had hit and threw me into the wall across the room. It took all I had to keep myself from vomiting until I saw my machete within reach and grabbed it. Wade grabbed my shirt, and as he pulled me to my feet again I sliced him on the right side of his face. He let go of my shirt and grabbed his face yelling in pain.

  When he turned, I sliced his right calf and kicked him to the ground. He was writhing in pain on the ground as I got to my feet. I grabbed his shirt collar and belt and launched him through the window overlooking the warehouse. The green eyes faded as the glass shattered.

  I gathered my things and reloaded my shotgun with extra shells from my backpack. Before I left the room, I looked out the window and saw Wade unconscious on the top of a large pallet. It was completely surrounded by Infected, all of them reaching up for him, clawing at the boxes making up the pallet, but it was just tall enough for him to be out of reach.

  I kicked open his office door and kept my shotgun shouldered, ready to fire on anyone trying to keep me from leaving. I made my way to the stairs and saw two of the other thugs fighting a losing battle against the oncoming horde halfway up the stairs. This meant that any possibility of reaching the loading docks the way I came in was now dead. I ran back down the hallway to look for another way out and saw a rather lanky individual holding an Uzi with shaking hands staring at me. I fired a shot at him from the hip and opened the door next to me and dove in. he fired a burst of five shots at me, four of which hit the door, leaving four widely spread dents. I kicked the door shut and had the sights of my shotgun trained on the door.

  The few moments I actually lay there on the floor felt like hours as I waited for him to come see if he’d killed me. I heard a few more bursts of shots from his Uzi, and then a scream. I looked around and noticed I was in the bathroom. I slowly, and as quietly as possible, got to my feet to check the doorway. When I pushed the door open, I found the horde had reached the top of the stairs, and the entire hallway was packed with Infected.

  Before I could pull the door shut, several of them got their arms through the doorway and were forcing themselves in. I tried to run backwards too fast and lost my footing and landed on my back, hard. It didn’t take a second for eight or nine to come through the door, so I crawled kicking the hands away into the handicapped stall on the opposite side of the room.

  I scrambled to my feet and reached to latch the stall door shut, but before I could a single rotten arm reached through, stopping me from closing it all the way. The Infected forced more of her arm, and eventually part of her torso through the door. I opened the door just enough for her to get in, grabbed her torn and bloody shirt, and threw her to the other end of the stall, hoping I could latch the door, and then take care of her before she could get back up.

  When I did, another Infected managed to get in, and he grabbed my backpack while I tossed the other. I turned and latched the door just as the rest of the horde reached it. I felt the Infected behind me clawing at my shoulders, trying to bite me, but my backpack was big enough to keep his head just far enough away.

  I released the clips holding the straps on my backpack and pulled my arms out of the straps, turned and fired my pistol at his head, killing it instantly. I felt a small hand grab my shoulder from behind. It was the first Infected that I’d thrown to the ground. I turned and grabbed her by the neck with one hand and tried to loosen her grip on my shoulder. She had a tight, bony grip. Her thick, curly, brown hair flowed over her shoulders onto a tight red shirt, torn slightly on the right shoulder, with a brown stain of blood where she was bitten. As I struggled to release her grip I tripped over the other Infected, dropped my pistol, and landed on my back taking her with me. She opened her jaws wide, snarling and snapping at me. She couldn’t have weighed more than a buck ten, so I rolled so that I was on top of her. For a moment we locked eyes. Even though they were milky and empty, they looked like they used to be green. Her face was really familiar, almost like…

  “Sarah!” I cried out. It wasn’t really her. This girl’s cheekbones were a little lower, and her nose was a little thinner than Sarah’s, but the resemblance was spooky enough to chill me to my core. If this girl couldn’t manage to survive, how could Sarah? They were the same height, same weight. I shook the thought away. Sarah had to be alive, she just had to. I put my knee onto her chest, pulled her boney fingers from my shirt, took a few steps to grab the pistol, and shot her in the face, blowing it off.

  The stall door was shaking violently, pulling the bolts holding it up out of the wall. It wasn’t built to stop a dozen people trying to bash it in. I didn’t have the ammo or any other means to fight the herd out there, so I looked at my surroundings. A sink, toilet, and a trash can. The ceiling was made up of ceiling tiles, which gave me an idea. I climbed up on top of the toilet, pushed up on a ceiling tile, and moved it to the side.

  There were several pipes and metal supports with a decent sized space above the ceiling tiles, definitely big enough for me to fit. I dropped down and picked up my backpack and shotgun just as the stall door collapsed, allowing dozens of Infected to flood into the stall. I climbed back up onto the sink and pulled myself up above the ceiling tiles. I looked down and saw dozens of hands reaching up for me.

  I sighed in relief. They didn’t think to climb up on the toilet or sink, and couldn’t even brush the ceiling from the ground. After making sure what I was crawling on was strong enough to hold my weight, I slowly crawled along the thick pipes to a walkway that must have been there for maintenance. I followed the walkway until I saw a latch above me, which must have been the roof access. I opened it and rain began pouring in, drenching me. I climbed out and saw the mass of bodies still trying to force themselves into the warehouse.

  I made my way to the opposite side of the building from the loading docks, and saw that there were only a few Infected, and a canopy overhang about 5 feet below the roof edge. I slowly lowered myself onto it and slid down to the edge, and then lowered myself to the ground. It was still raining, so I pulled another throw away poncho out of my backpack and threw it on to stay at least a little dry.

  I started running as fast as I could. It was even darker than before I went into the warehouse, but I didn’t want to be anywhere near this place. Way too dangerous. Luckily the majority of the massive mob was either inside the warehouse or on the other side trying to push their way past each other. The storm was still keeping any sounds I was making pretty well covered. Only a few were following me, out of what had to be hundreds in that warehouse now.

  “I need to find another car,” I said to myself, almost out of breath, “And fast!” There were tons of cars, but they were either crashed into each other and dented, or scratched and bloodied.

  The Infected were only a few yards behind me, and more were adding to the mob as I ran recklessly down the middle of a street. If I tripped or fell I would be screwed. I was on a main street now, or at least some type of small road downtown. Little shops and diners lined the streets. Cars were everywhere, and that meant trapped Infected. Arms were reaching out of the windows trying to get me as I went past.

  After about a mile, I slowed to a walk. My adrenaline was running low and I couldn’t keep up running anymore. It was too much wit
h my heavy backpack. Luckily Infected weren’t that fast, and now that I finally had a little distance on them I could take it a little easy, but if I wasn’t careful they could easily catch up.

  I saw a red car ahead that looked in relatively good condition. I smashed the window, jumped in and stuck my head under the wheel. I started pulling wires and splicing them together. Finally the car roared to life. It was a lot louder than I thought it would be, surprising me so much that I jerked my head back and hit the wheel.

  The moans were getting louder. I pulled my head out and looked back. The Infected weren’t that far behind, and not slowing down, so I revved the engine. It felt good to drown out their moans. As I adjusted the rear view mirror, for a second my eyes were that same shade of green. I blinked and they were back to their normal hazel. After a moment of staring into my own eyes I shifted it into gear and peeled out, leaving the mob and the whole shitty day behind me.

  I checked the time. It was already almost midnight, which meant I only had about seven hours or so until the sun came up, that is, if the storm would let up. I looked around at my surroundings. It wasn’t a warehouse district, or the small town main street anymore, just trees and road. It made sense to not see any cars while driving down back roads like this. Most cars were either stuck on major highways, other designated escape routes, or still in driveways. It was the small piece of normality I needed to bring my spirits up, even if it was only a little bit.

  Around 12:30 I decided it was about time to find some shelter, especially since the gas light had just flicked on, making this car next to useless pretty soon. Up ahead was a small neighborhood, though I guess it was just a street with a few houses on it, not really a neighborhood like the subdivisions I was used to in Florida with a few hundred houses. There were only twelve houses here, and there were only about seven or eight Infected in sight.

  It was slowing to a drizzle as I pulled off the side of the road, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention with such a loud car. I pulled my poncho back over myself, and adjusted my hat. I swung the door of the car open and made for the closest house, jogging toward what I hoped would be a relatively uneventful evening and day ahead of me.

  Chapter Seven: Bad Day

  3:00 PM, July 1

  I was running as fast as I could, completely engulfed in darkness. She was right in front of me, but every time I reached out for her she seemed to pull a little further away. I tried to yell out to her, but my lips moved silently, emitting no sound. She was being dragged away, and I couldn’t do anything about it. My legs were on fire. I was pushing them past their limits just keeping up with her dragging body. Her face was full of fear and her eyes were watered up and glazed over, tears were pouring down her face.

  She was yelling to me. I could see her mouth wide, and the back of her throat vibrating from the sound waves emitting out, but I couldn’t make out any actual sound. All I could hear were the moans, the deep gasping groan that chilled you deep inside. I tried my hardest to reach out to her again, but my finger tips were mere millimeters away, and she was pulled out of sight.

  “Sarah!” I yelled out and leaped forward. I hit the ground hard, face first. My whole body was shaking from all the adrenaline pumping through me. My clothes were soaked in sweat. I looked around frantically, ascertaining my surroundings.

  “It was just a nightmare.” I thought out loud.

  I wiped my face and stood up. According to my watch, it was about three o’clock. Light was beaming through the broken windows, shining around the entertainment center I’d leaned against them to keep anything from getting in. I started my pushups angry at myself for waking up so late.

  After finishing, I went to my backpack to get breakfast. As I opened the zipper, I heard a loud crash. I instinctively grabbed my shotgun and ran to the front door. The granola bar I was holding in my mouth hit the ground and broke in half. The door had been smashed open, and the bookshelf I had leaned against it had fallen over. Four of them were already inside the house, and Infected were out the door as far as I could see, surrounding the red car I’d parked outside.

  “Shit.” I flipped the safety off my shotgun and fired at the closest one, missing his head, but blowing his shoulder apart. His body fell into another Infected behind him, knocking it over as I pumped the shotgun, ejecting a shell and loading another into the chamber. I fired again, hitting the next Infected in the neck, flinging his head off his shoulders.

  More came shuffling in, practically pouring in a sickening flow of bodies. I decided to make my way back into the bedroom, not wanting to waste any more shells on a losing battle. My heart was racing. There were several dozen in the room by the time I made it back to the bedroom and slammed the door.

  A hand managed to reach through before it closed, making a sickening crunch as the bones in the forearm snapped. I hit the hand with the butt of the shotgun and tried to shut it again, but it was too late. Five or six more hands reached through. More were just pounding the door. I leaned against it holding it closed as best I could.

  “Son of a bitch!” I yelled out in frustration, my heart was racing about as fast as my mind. I had to get out of here, and fast. The window was across the room, but it was boarded up. The closet was no help. That would just trap me in a worse place. My back pack was just out of reach, leaning against the bed I slept on last night. I couldn’t get to it without the door flying open.

  “Fuck!” I yelled out as loud as I could at the situation

  I sat there for at least an hour and a half, holding the door. I was getting tired. The door was starting to slide open, inch by inch. There had to be at least six of them on the other side hitting the door, with God knows how many pushing them. I couldn’t stop thinking about her face. Her scared face as she was being dragged away. Even though it was just a nightmare it felt so real, and if I didn’t get out of this room, I would never see her face again.

  The moans echoed through my head. I began to lose hope. How could she still be alive when none of these people made it?

  No, I told myself, she has to be alive, because she doesn’t know how I feel. My eyes began to burn slightly, and I felt the wet tears roll down my cheeks. If she didn’t make it, I don’t know what I would do. Without her, my life was empty, meaningless. She completed me, like the last piece to an unfinished puzzle.

  I could hear the last thing she said to me repeating, over and over, “We need to talk when you get back, about something I should have said years ago.” I hadn’t really thought about those words since this all began. Maybe it was what I’d always wanted to hear, though it wouldn’t be the first time I misread something of this nature, but something about this time seemed different.

  My black baseball cap was lying on the ground between me and the bed. It was just out of reach of my foot. I leaned away from the door for just a second to try to drag it over, but the door was forcing itself open even harder, giving them more leverage then I could manage.

  I slammed my foot against the base of the door, stopping it like we used to do as kids playing tag in the house. For half a second I wasn’t holding the door anymore, I was running through the hallway of my old house, chasing Sarah when we were only thirteen years old.

  She was holding my hat in her hand, taunting me. “I’ve got your hat, I got your hat!”

  I managed to tackle her to the ground, and by the time I managed to wrestle it from her hands, I was on top of her, having pinned her to the ground. We locked eyes for a few moments smiling, breathing heavily from all the running and wrestling. She smiled, I smiled, and then she flipped me over on my back and took my hat again. I chased her to the kitchen where she slipped and accidentally dropped it into the bucket of cleaner my mom was using to mop the floor. She fell on her elbow hard, hurting it.

  I was more worried about her than a stupid hat, but she felt really bad she had ruined my favorite hat, which now had large white bleach stains all over it.

  The next day she brought me a brand new black baseball c
ap. “I’m really sorry. I spent this week’s allowance to get you a new one.”

  “This one’s even better than my old one.” I smiled, just glad that she’d only bruised her arm, and not broken it.

  Her lips moved responding to me, but I couldn’t hear the words. The moans slowly began to drown out the sound of her voice, bringing me back to the present. The gap I’d made by trying to retrieve my hat was just big enough for an Infected to reach his shoulder through, and almost its head before I jammed the shoulder back with the butt of the shotgun, before closing the door enough to stop them from getting through again, but not enough to close it completely.

  The sunlight was getting dimmer, and the moans seemed to get louder each second. I stared at the hat just resting on the ground, imagining her falling somewhere now, without me there to pick her up. I couldn’t let these dead bastards take her away from me. I needed to be there to protect her, and I couldn’t do that stuck in this god damned room. The moans were still getting louder, and the more they moaned the more would come. Every time they hit the door I got angrier and angrier. I clenched my jaw and gritted my teeth. I couldn’t let this happen. I just let it all out, I yelled as loud as I could.

  There were no words, just raw emotion. The kind of emotion that cannot be described with words. I yelled until my throat got dry, but I kept yelling regardless. When I yelled, I couldn’t hear the moans, the moans that were slowly taking away my sanity.

  A hand broke through the door and grabbed my shoulder, without thinking I punched it as hard as I could, but all I managed to do was hurt my own hand. Two or three more broke through. I didn’t have time to think anymore I just let go of the door and ran.

  I scooped up my hat, slid it on my head, grabbed my backpack and jumped into the window shoulder first, shattering it and splintering the wood. I hit the ground and rolled. Thank god I hadn’t been downstairs. I got up as fast as I could and looked back for a second. They were already at the window falling out. I turned and looked left then right. I was trapped in a fenced backyard. There had to be two dozen Infected trying to get in the house through the windows when I jumped through. The gate was to my left so I ran up and unlatched it. When I did I saw the dozens of Infected that had gathered in front of the house. The car was in the middle of the mob, completely unreachable.