by Jay Zano
“I’m pretty sure they’re locked in the girls’ locker room,” Vegas says.
“This should be interesting,” I say. “Let’s go!”
We run to the elevator, intending to travel down to the sixty-third. I’m hoping this is our last run; I’m not sure I can take much more. I’m exhausted! The elevator door opens, and we all climb in.
“We’ll be back, Fick. Don’t let the ’copter leave without us!”
Fickle nods as he finally escapes the clutches of Kyle.
“Come back soon, guys!”
Sitting in the bar, watching the news unfold, Jeffords finally sees Tyson give the signal he’s being waiting for. He pulls out his phone and sends the text message: ‘You’re up. Stick with the plan and godspeed!’ He places his phone back in his pocket, drops some money on the bar and makes his way to the exit.
“You going to Zook Towers?” asks the bartender.
“No, I’m heading to Saint Patrick’s Cathedral.”
“What’s going on there?”
“I think I need to talk to God, right now. Thanks for the drink, and be safe!”
“You too, partner.”
CHAPTER 29
SURVIVORS
WE EXIT THE elevator and make our way to the gym. I’ve only been here a few times, and I never exercised; I just walked around with a water bottle and a small towel. I stacked weights on and off the bar a few times, but I never actually lifted anything, mainly because I never really fit in. The gym was typically filled with huge dudes and pretty people. There was always a lot of grunting and high-fiving from the steroid meathead types, and lots of sweaty, physically fit people spinning or doing pilates. We creep in and see the beefheads banging on the door of the ladies’ locker room. I think if we quietly make our way behind them, we can take care of business pretty quickly. I motion to Zoe and Vegas to follow my lead. They nod, and we slowly approach. These zombies are Hulk-size. I didn’t think I could ever see anything more terrifying than a zombie, but now I have a new fear, and it’s meathead zombies. I wonder what you call these things: mombies or zeatheads? I’m leaning towards zeathead, it has a nice ring to it. As I take a step, precariously trying to go unnoticed, I accidentally kick a barbell, which rolls quietly across the floor. We all stare at it in hopes that it’ll stop nicely and without a sound. No such luck, as it clanks against a stack of forty-five-pound plates. The sound isn’t loud, but it may as well have been an airhorn in this otherwise quiet gym. One of the zeatheads stops scratching on the door and slowly turns his head. We stand motionless as he moves his gargantuan head around the room, scanning for lifeforms. He looks at us, but we stay still and he doesn’t make us out to be something he wants to sink his teeth into. He turns back to the door and goes back to banging and scratching with his Jolly Green Giant friends. Whew, that was close. I make quick eye contact with Zoe and Vegas, and we all breathe a quick sigh of relief. Slowly, quietly, I pull out my shredder. This weapon has never let me down, and now that I’ve leveled up to expert, it’s time to go beast mode on these zeatheads. Vegas pulls out his crude device as well; guns aren’t the best choice here. We don’t know how many zombies are around at this point, so stealth kills are the way to go. Zoe, of course, is armed to the teeth, but all guns. She acknowledges our choice of weapon, holsters her gun, bends down and grabs a straight bar from the floor. There are five of these guys, but I’m feeling particularly badass right now, so as we approach, my fear is diminishing. There are three of us and five of them; we’ve obviously faced worse odds. After surviving the lobby, this should be a piece of cake. We’re mere feet from them, now. We’re spread out, me in the center, Zoe on the right and Vegas on the left. We all glance at each other, and I can see the anxiousness in Vegas. He lifts his table leg over his head and lands a huge blow on one of their heads. His spectacular bash appears to have no effect on the giant. The zeathead slowly turns, and Vegas’ face goes from ‘badass’ to ‘oh shit’ in a matter of seconds. The rest of the zeatheads turn, and I quickly go from ‘beast mode’ to ‘WTF’ as well. The one closest to me is about 6’3” and two hundred and forty pounds of solid muscle. As he snarls, I muster up enough aggression to slam the shredder into the top of his skull. He takes a few steps back, which causes me to lose my grip. Recovering, he shakes his head, and with my shredder still wedged in deep, he refocuses on me. With a yell, he stumbles in my direction.
“Oh, shit!” Vegas yells, and we find ourselves quickly retreating into the gym, bobbing and weaving between the equipment.
I make my way upstairs to the cardio equipment. This is a dead end, I’m screwed. As he gains on me, I make a beeline for the line of treadmills. I duck under, moving to the other side, and quickly notice that he can’t figure out how to get past the obstacle to reach me. He’s literally stuck on the treadmill, reaching for me. I stop in my tracks to try and get the shredder back, but this ogre’s arms have a lot of reach. As he lunges frantically, I try to time his movements to get my weapon back. We look like we’re doing a choreographed dance. In the chaos of swipes, along with ducks and dives, he inadvertently turns on the treadmill. I’m taken aback in amazement, as this zombie is now jogging in place, trying to catch me. It would be hysterical if it wasn’t so terrifying. As he struggles with the increasing speed, he starts to pump his arms to run in a full sprint. I take the opportunity to grab the shredder and pry it out of his head. He falls down, and the treadmill’s momentum throws him off the back like a slingshot. I quickly duck under and allow the treadmill to propel me in his direction, as I wind up for my kill shot. As he stands, I’m flying into him at full speed, swinging into the side of his neck. As blood splatters across my face and half the room, I realize I didn’t make it all the way through. I pull the shredder back for another swing, and the zeathead stands up straight. He looks at me and takes a step in my direction. As he does, his head folds over sideways, causing more splatter to shoot out from his neck. Holy shit! This is the most warped thing I’ve seen yet. As he takes another step, he collapses at my feet, motionless. Time to check on my friends.
I quickly run down the stairs to see Zoe slamming a twenty-five-pound plate into the head of one zombie, while Vegas is running in circles around a weight bench to get away from two others. There’s a motionless one on the floor with a straight bar protruding out of his eye. Zoe’s work, no doubt. I make my way to Vegas, since he’s the one in trouble. These guys are clearly hardheaded, so I try a different approach. As I run up on Vegas, I swing low on one of the monsters, putting a good slice in his right leg, which causes him to collapse. As he falls, I take swipes into his skull until he’s motionless on the ground. As I look up, I see the last beast barreling down on me. I have no room to retreat and no time to pull back my weapon. I’m toast. Just then, a single shot between the eyes drops him at my feet. I look over, and Zoe is holding up her pistol from across the room. She smiles and winks at me. God, I love her. We regroup at the bathroom door.
“Okay, I’m not sure what we’re going to find in here. Zoe, I know Derek is your friend, so please brace yourself for the worst.”
“How can it get any worse than this?” she asks.
“Never say never,” I reply, carefully opening the door. We walk in slowly, but on first glance, there’s nothing noteworthy. As we make our way into the locker room, we can hear some commotion in the back.
“It’s coming from the shower area,” Vegas murmurs. Again trying to be as stealthy as possible, we gingerly step closer to the familiar sounds of zombies feasting. We turn the corner into the shower room hoping, praying, to find our friends alive, but also expecting the worst-case scenario. We peek into the room and see five completely naked zombie women, their faces and chests covered in blood and torn flesh. Apparently, they were showering in the locker room when the outbreak happened. Three of them are crouched over Dylan, devouring his neck and stomach, ripping his tissue and intestines away from his motionless body. The others are desperately trying to tug down Derek, who is clinging onto t
he top of the shower stall for dear life.
“I was wrong, it can get worse,” Zoe whispers.
“A little help!” Derek screams from the rafters. We don’t mess around this time; we all pull out our guns and lead starts flying. In honor of Dylan, we needed to make quick work of these zombies. In a few seconds, it’s over, and Derek makes his way down from the stalls.
“Man, I owe you guys! Thanks for coming for us.”
“What happened?” Zoe responds.
“Well, we were thinking about what you guys said about saving as many people as possible, and we agreed we needed to do our best to help as many as we could. We found some survivors but got pinned down in here. Once we came across these zombies, Dylan and I did our best to hold them at bay while the others made it to safety. Dylan put his life on the line for me and the others. He’s a true hero.”
“Others?” I say inquisitively. Derek makes his way to a supply closet in the back of the shower room. He opens it, and inside are four women and two men, who look very shaken.
“We saw them hiding out on this floor, but we got cornered trying to get back to the elevator. We took refuge in the ladies’ locker room, which turned out to be a deadly mistake,” Derek says, his voice trailing somberly.
“It’s okay, you can come out. It’s safe now,” I say to the group hiding in the closet. They step out as I walk over. “Hey guys, I know you’re scared, and you’ve probably been through a lot. We have a plan to get you out of here, but we have to move now. You guys ready to move?” They all look exhausted but nod in agreement. “Okay, good. Follow us and stay close. We’re heading up to Zook’s penthouse.”
I look over to Derek, Zoe and Vegas and give them the nod to move. We all get back into formation and make our way out of the locker room, through the gym and onto Zook’s elevator. With a quick swipe, the doors open and we’re on our way back to the top floor, where hopefully a helicopter will be waiting.
CHAPTER 30
THE GREAT ESCAPE
AS WE EXIT the elevator into Zook’s penthouse, Fick and Kyle are there to greet us. Kyle is still clamoring to his hero for saving his life, while Fickle seems annoyed by his new puppy dog.
“We scoured the video footage of every single floor, and there’s no one left,” says a disappointed Fickle.
“I can’t believe everyone in this building is dead,” Vegas responds.
“It’s no joke, what Zook was working on,” Zoe states. “He is the epitome of evil!”
Just then, we hear the noise we’ve been waiting for; the sound of a helicopter approaching Zook’s helipad.
“Oh my god!” Kyle exclaims, darting out to wave the ’copter in. “We’re really getting out of here!”
Everyone else breaks out into celebration. I’m taken aback by the sheer luck of it all. I can’t believe a handful of computer nerds actually navigated their way through a zombie-infested building, outsmarting and outmaneuvering all others to escape. I lean back on Zook’s fifteen-thousand-dollar couch to take it all in.
“Hey, man,” Derek says, dragging me out of my thoughts. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for saving my life back there. It took a lot of guts to come after us like that.”
“I could think of a few worse ways to die than getting your face chewed off by a bunch of naked women,” I reply, “but only a few.”
He chuckles a bit before leaning in and saying, “Also, I want to let you know that Zoe and I are just friends. All that other stuff; I was just screwing with you.”
“I appreciate that.”
“She really likes you, I can tell. I tried to get her to look at me the way she looks at you, but I couldn’t get it to happen.”
We both stare at Zoe until it becomes uncomfortable for everyone, including Zoe, who’s now looking at us inquisitively. We laugh and bump fists.
“Now, I better go get that dumbass off the landing spot so the helicopter can actually land,” Derek says before jogging outside.
Zoe sidles over and asks, “What was all that about?”
“Not much,” I say. “He was just telling me how grateful he was to have me save his life, and that he wishes one day to be half the man I am.”
Zoe smiles, leans next to me on the couch and puts her head on my shoulder. I respond by putting my arm around her. I reflect on how our day started in the lobby, with me stepping off the elevator, wishing to have my first date with her. What a crazy series of events that’s brought us to this moment. As we intertwine on the couch, Fickle and Vegas approach.
“Well man, you did it! You saved our lives,” Vegas says.
“We did it,” I reply, “we all did it. You too, Fickle. We wouldn’t be here without your help, and your new best-friend-slash-stalker Kyle owes his life to you.”
We all chuckle as we turn to see the helicopter coming to a firm landing on the helipad outside. As we take our last few moments inside the penthouse, we see Kyle frantically waving at the helicopter pilot, while Derek directs him and the six other survivors into the copter. Derek motions for us to join them outside.
“Well, I guess this is it. Time to leave the comforts of Zook Towers,” I say, as we walk to the balcony. Fickle leads the way, but pauses for a moment to look up at the sky just outside the window.
“What’s wrong, Fick?” I holler as I grab Zoe’s hand, escorting her to her chariot.
“Wait,” Fickle says as he holds his hand up in a fist. We all stop dead.
“Something’s wrong.” He looks again before screaming, “Incoming! Everyone down!” He turns in our direction and pushes us all away from the balcony. Suddenly, a flash lights up the balcony, followed by a huge explosion. The windows blow out a second before the shockwave knocks us all to the ground. As I try to get up, I’m pushed back by the extreme heat, and I hold up my hand to cover my face. I try to make out what happened, even as I realize it doesn’t matter. I quickly change gears. It’s not what happened; it’s what’s left. The helicopter has been completely obliterated, along with everyone who was outside.
*
Sergeant Major Braxton Reflects
Outside Zook Towers, sitting in my temporary barracks in complete solitude, I contemplate the magnitude of what I have just done. In wartime, these decisions are easy. We evaluate the threat and we take it out. There isn’t much to think about or reflect on, except strategy. On American soil, the playbook is the same, but the emotional price is much higher. It’s not lost on me that an explosion on a skyscraper in New York city is sure to evoke fears and memories of one of America’s darkest days. It’s not something I take lightly. Still, I know what I did was strategically right. I know I had to contain the threat. The risk of this virus leaving the quarantine zone was too high to gamble on. Still, they were Americans simply trying to survive. Based on the behavior of this virus, I know the likelihood is they weren’t infected. However, there was still a risk, and I had to act on that, for the greater good. Prior to the explosion, the growing crowd outside was deafening and difficult to contain. Now, I can hear nothing; no one is screaming, only silence. Perhaps they too are evaluating the magnitude of what just happened and coming to terms with the inevitable fate of victims trapped in a no-win situation. Or maybe this city is locked in fear by the ball of fire in the sky. No terrorist; this time, it came from me. Perhaps, later, they’ll choose not to judge me, but to respect the difficult decision I made in order to protect them. Perhaps they’ll come to villainize me for my actions. Either way, what’s done is done. I can only reflect. Did I do what’s right, or did I do the right thing? Sometimes, the two don’t go hand in hand.
*
As the heat subsides and the smoke clears, I quickly assess the situation.
“Everyone okay?” I scream out.
“I’m okay,” says Fick.
“Present!” calls Vegas.
“Zoe! Zoe?” I shout. “Where are you?”
“I’m here!” she calls out, pushing the couch aside. She stands up and brushes herself off.
“To make sure we never leave this tower,” Zoe responds. “We’re just as much of a threat as the zombies.”
“That doesn’t make sense. We’re not sick!”
“They don’t care. Being in this building means we’re a potential threat; they’re not prepared to take that risk, no matter how small.”
“So, now what? Do we just sit here and die?” I yell. “This is bullshit; we have rights!”
“Rights no longer apply to us.”
“Yes, they do!” I chime in. “And we’re not done yet! We have another way out.”
“Oh, give it up, Tyson!” Vegas responds. “I’m sick and tired of you telling us we’ll be fine. The odds are against us here, and we have no more moves! We’re in checkmate, so please stop trying to fill our heads with nonsense! Sid, Matt, Frank, Dylan and now Kyle and Derek are all dead, and they all died believing! Give it a rest! We all know how this is going to end.”
I understand where Vegas is coming from. We’re up here because of me and what I thought was best. To be completely honest, we’re only alive because of dumb luck and help from Zoe and her friends. We should have died a long time ago. Still, we have come this far, I just need them to come a little farther.
“Listen, Vegas, I get it! We should all be dead. I carry the weight of each of the names you called out. Sid was one of my best friends, and he died sacrificing himself so we could live.”
“Well, technically he died because he had sex with an STD-riddled zombie!” Fick chimes in.
“Come on, Fick,” I say sternly. “Listen, I know if we get outside this building, we aren’t going to die. We just need to show them we’re no threat. Now, I’m not ready to give up. We’ve sacrificed so much, our friends have sacrificed so much. Let’s live for them, for their families, so they didn’t die in vain. Who’s in?”