Abby held the door wide. The three men raced through and out onto the sidewalk. Panicked, they looked left and right. Abby let go of the door. They saw the demented in the street rushing toward them. Only thinking about getting away they turned in the opposite direction.
“No!” Abby shouted. “Water is this way.” She raised her pistol and started running directly at the oncoming infected.
Startled, the three men stood still for a moment before following in her wake.
Ahead of them, racing toward Abby, were two demented followed by a staggering undead. The lead demented was a younger man dressed in jogging shorts. Just behind him raced a middle aged woman, dressed only in her underwear. Both of them were covered in blood, however neither compared to the elderly man that plodded along behind them. He had a massive chunk of flesh missing from the side of his neck and shoulder. Blood and gore drenched his once blue dress shirt.
Jogger’s eyes were filled with rage. He opened his mouth in an angry growl.
Abby slowed to a stop to steady herself. Pistol raised she fired a single shot. Her aim was perfect; the round slammed dead center into Jogger’s forehead, dropping him to the pavement. She shifted her aim and fired at Underwear, missing high-right. She let loosed a couple rapid shots. One of them connected, hitting Underwear in her shoulder, spinning her sideways. Slowed, but still on her feet, she continued her charge. A final shot from Abby’s pistol sent her toppling to the pavement, bare flesh skidding across the jagged edges.
Only two remained; the slow moving undead and behind him was Business Suit, still barking toward the sky, recruiting soldiers from hell.
Nate and his buddies were just catching up to Abby when she took off sprinting. Behind them the demented were flooding out of the rear exit of the apartment building. On top of that others were beginning to pour out of buildings and side streets, drawn to the noise.
“To the water, go, go go.” Abby shouted.
Rather than waste time and ammo she sprinted right past the undead. Business Suit stood directly in front of her, oblivious to her approach. She knew he could be one of the fast demented, so just to be safe she raised her pistol and fired two quick shots into his chest. He staggered back a couple steps and then fell to his knees. An angry grimace crossed his face. She pulled the trigger again but nothing happened. A quick check showed the slide was back. She had run the pistol dry. Business Suit could do nothing from his knees, so she dodged around him and continued to sprint down the street.
While Abby raced ahead, the three men began leap frogging. One of them would stop and fire shots at the trailing demented and any entering from the sides, while the others raced ahead. After several shots the shooter would hop up and sprint ahead while another gave him cover fire. They continued covering each other, slowly working their way down the street. None of them realized for each demented they spent the time to shoot, it was immediately replaced by several more. The entire city heard the gunshots and was closing in on them.
Abby reached the edge of the large plaza that led to the Portland Convention Center. A car sat empty in front of the large glass windows. She glanced back to see the three men about a half block away, racing her way. There retreat was slow because they kept covering each other. Right behind them was a massive horde of demented. There were more than she could count; their arms and legs blending into one churning mass. “Just run!” She shouted. With that she turned and ran toward the convention center. They needed to get somewhere to regroup.
A quick glance inside the abandoned car confirmed that it was empty. Just past it was a trail of dried blood that led to a broken out section of glass. She followed the blood trail and peered in through the hole. It was dark, but she did not see any movement. She hit the mag release on her pistol, letting the empty magazine clatter to the sidewalk. She pulled a fresh one from her pocket, slammed it in, and worked the slide.
Nate saw where Abby disappeared into the convention center. He was on his last magazine, running out of energy, and very glad to see a place of possible reprieve. Ten yards from the building he turned around to provide cover fire for Markus and Deshawn. They were nearly to him and sprinted past. “Get inside!” He shouted as they ran past. He began firing rapidly into the oncoming horde. They were steadily dropping to his barrage of gunfire. His weapon ran dry. He turned to make for the building, caught his foot on a lip in the cement, and stumbled.
Abby watched the whole thing. She stood by the glass windows as Markus and Deshawn ran inside. She was relieved when she saw Nate turn to head her way. He went down. She screamed for him to get up. Raising her pistol, she side stepped over to the opening, hoping to hold them off.
The demented were unbelievably fast. Nate tried to get back to his feet, but several were on him. Their weight sent him back to his knees. More piled on, driving him to the cement.
Abby lowered her pistol, knowing there was nothing she could do. She yelled out in anger and frustration. Demented continued to swarm where she had last seen Nate. Others raced around the mass of bodies, heading straight for her. Unsure which way Markus and Deshawn went, she absently aimed her pistol, fired off a couple quick shots, and then headed up the stairs directly behind her.
The stairs curved slightly as they rose to the second story. She reached the large loft that overlooked the entrance area and long windowed atrium that faced the plaza. At the far end of the atrium she saw Markus and Deshawn looking back her way. One of them shouted something, but she couldn’t make out the words. Below, demented began streaming in through the broken out glass. Markus raised his rifle and began firing into them. Deshawn grabbed at his arms, trying to get him to stop shooting, but the damage was already done.
Abby watched over the pony wall in horror as dozens of demented turned and raced toward the two men, drawn to the gunfire. She tried to think of a way to help them, but knew anything she did would only draw them to her. She was about to turn away when she saw a man carrying an assault rifle run out from under the loft. He hesitated momentarily, looking in both directions. He then raced over to the stairs that dropped down to the long atrium. He raised his rifle and began firing into the demented that chased Markus and Deshawn.
She continued to watch as the man dropped one demented after another. The demented screamed out in rage. All along the atrium they turned at his gunfire and began sprinting towards him. He seemed at ease, almost calm as he dealt death upon the demented. His weapon ran dry. Abby’s heart pounded in her chest, thinking he was going to get overrun for sure. In a single fluid motion, the man dropped the magazine out of his weapon, pulled a fresh one from a chest pouch, slammed it into his mag well, and charged his rifle. Barely skipping a beat he began firing into the demented that were just below him at the base of the stairs.
Abby glanced out the front windows and was terrified to see a massive horde of undead staggering toward the entrance. Several of them were shuffling through the broken out glass. Others piled up against the glass, smearing blood and grime everywhere. Abby raised her pistol, wanting desperately to help the man out. He must have sensed the undead behind him, because he suddenly stopped firing, turned, and ran back under the loft out of sight.
Abby did not know who the man was, but he just might have bought Markus and Deshawn enough time to hide somewhere.
Chapter 4: Tomb
She wasn’t sure what woke her, maybe the dead silence. Abby had no idea how long she had been sleeping under the large conference table, but her hips told her it had been quite a while. She uncurled herself, pushed a couple chairs apart and squeezed through. The upstairs conference room she had barricaded herself into was dimly lit by several recessed floor lights intermittently spaced around the walls.
Abby’s joints resisted movement as she stood up. She knew she had slept too long. After barricading both doors with entry desks and chairs, she had hunkered down listening to the chaos around her. The infected had continued to stream into the building, filling it with grunts and growls for what seemed like
hours. Infected scratched at the doors to her room, but none tried to get in. The noises slowly subsided, but she was far too afraid to leave the room. Instead she curled up under the table, hoping to wake to the old world…safe. Instead, she woke here, in the same room, with the same apocalyptic world just outside the doors.
She had spent some of her time on the scratchy carpet thinking about everything that had happened. The past thirty six hours had blown by like a whirlwind, not leaving any time for analysis. Movies always had highly contagious zombies. If someone contacted bodily fluid through bites or splatter they turned. Do I have to worry about contracting whatever this is? Do the people know they were about to go crazy? The dead ones that come back, are they aware? She went on and on with the questions in her head before finally falling asleep.
Long shadows stretched away from her feet as she made her way along the smooth wall to the set of double doors. She quietly climbed on top of the onyx desk she had dragged over as a barricade. The door’s solid wood was surprisingly cool when she pressed her ear to it listening. Low grunts. A snort. The shuffling of shoes on carpet sounded like a dry paintbrush swiping across a metal shed. With the caution of a prowling cat, Abby backed her way off the desk.
She eased across the carpet, hoping the single door at the back of the room would offer more hope. As carefully as possible she slid her chair fence out of the way one chair at a time. She pressed her ear to the unmarked door and listened. Silence. She remained in the same position, breath held tight, for as long as she could. After repeating this several times she wrapped her slender fingers around the nickel plated handle. Her fingers squeezed tightly. The beating of her heart thundered through her whole body. She took a steadying breath and then applied slow downward pressure on the handle until she felt the release give way with a slight click.
Hesitantly she eased the door open enough to peer out. A dimly lit hall stretched into the darkness, white doors lining both sides. Abby sniffed at the cool air. The faint odor of cleaning agents gave her little reason for concern. Pistol at the ready, she used her foot to swing the door open. Her free hand flipped the hall light switch. Relief washed over her when the hall was flooded in cool white light.
Abby took her time moving down the hall and checking each of the rooms. A quick glance helped assure her that infected would not be sneaking up behind her. After the hallway made a couple turns it came to a windowed door, a blue and white sign marking it as leading back to the main floor. Her heart quickened when she heard the thrum of noise from the other side. The sounds were indistinguishable. It reminded her of the food court at the mall – a constant drum of voices and noises that smashed into each other.
She knew she had no other choice; it was stay here and starve or find a way out. The thought of hiding out and wasting away was repulsive. Just like she had done everything else in her life, she would charge ahead, stay on her feet, and go down swinging if it came to that.
The narrow window offered a view into the carpeted stairwell. Not seeing any movement, she slipped through the door and eased down the steps beyond.
At the door that led out to the main floor Abby hesitated. There was no window, no view into her fate. Sounds, horrible sounds, emanated from the other side of the door. They were muffled and mixed together, but it was clear that there were infected on the other side. She tightened her grip on the pistol, checked the breach, and steadied her breathing. She reached out and grabbed the cool metal door handle.
Boom…Boom…cack…cack…boom…
Abby jumped at the gunfire. Her hand instinctively pulled back from the door handle. After a moment she realized this may be just what she needed. After a twenty count she cracked the door open and peered out. The gunfire continued. It was close, each blast hammering her ears. Between shots she could hear angry growls and the pounding of feet. Dark forms raced past the door. She kept the door cracked and continued to peak through the gap, watching the flood. The steady flow slowed to a trickle and then to drops of undead staggering past. She continued to wait patiently, counting silently between undead sightings. Once she reached fifteen seconds since her last sighting she opened the door further and stepped out into the hall.
The stragglers were still in sight, moving down the hall to Abby’s right, drawn to the gunfire like roaches to crumbs. She spun left. The wide hallway had two men shuffling her way. Both of them had ghastly wounds, blood covering their exposed flesh, soaking their clothes, and leaving behind a grisly trail in their wake. They had lost most of the function of their legs and this was probably why they lagged so far behind the others. Rather than fire shots that would draw infected back, Abby moved to the far side of the hall, avoiding them all together.
Shouts echoed down the hall behind her. The rate of gunfire rapidly increased. They were no longer evenly spaced, controlled shots, but instead erratic, panicked shots. The gunfire was replaced by screams.
The screams were agonizing, pushing Abby ever faster down the hall. Just ahead she saw a giant opening. It was dark inside, but would at least get her out of the hallway. As she approached, she raised her pistol, holding it firmly in both hands, aiming into the darkness. Her eyes were accustomed to the bright hallway, making the room a nearly impenetrable black. She had no idea what its inky depths were hiding, but hoped that all of the infected had been drawn by the gunfire.
Before she was even able to set foot inside the cavernous room there was a loud shriek followed by and angry growl from somewhere inside. Unable to see anything, panic welled up inside of her. She glanced back the way she had come, but the undead heard the noise and were already headed her way. Far down the hall, beyond the nearest two, were more of them staggering toward her.
Pistol out, she moved into the darkness. Her eyes quickly adjusted enough to at least see vague shapes. Rows of tables disappeared into the dark ahead of her. There was movement in the dark shadows. It was impossible to make out, like shadows shifting in the night. Had it not been for the growls she would have attributed it to her imagination.
The growls turned to a loud bark like huff that she knew was a call for reinforcements. At least one of them decided she was dinner and thought his friends should know.
Abby crouched low and rushed to the side, hoping to duck out of view. The room was enormous, even the sidewalls were out of sight, lost in the darkness. She desperately wanted to outrun the growing shrieks and growls. As she moved along row after row of tables, she noticed they were stacked with various guns. Everything from pistols, to rifles, to shotguns was neatly laid out. What is this, an Army convention?
Guns clattered to the floor as tables were tipped over behind her.
Abby kept working her way to the far wall, moving as fast as she could in the dark. Her pupils continued to dilate, revealing more and more of her surroundings, however the infected could either see better or had the advantage of no fear. She could hear their angry growls right behind her. She cut hard to the right, sprinting for the far end of the giant room.
A dark shape emerged from the darkness directly ahead of her. It shrieked with rage. She raised her pistol, never slowing, and fired two rapid shots. Both went wide. The bright flashes revealed the hideous woman’s face as she continued to race directly at Abby. Her mouth opened, teeth gnashing in anticipation. Abby slowed and fired two more shots, nearly at point blank. Both rounds slammed into the infected’s chest, sending her toppling to the floor.
This slowed Abby just enough to allow her chasers to catch up. Their pounding feet on the hard floor were scary close. They sensed the closeness of their prey and screamed out in eagerness.
More were pouring in from the hallway, drawn to the sounds of chaos.
Light spilled in through a large doorway just ahead. Abby lowered her head and sprinted for it with everything she was worth. As she neared the opening a dark shape stepped out from the side, silhouetted by light from the atrium windows beyond.
Demented were right behind her, she could almost feel their fingernails
ripping into the back of her neck. She couldn’t slow down. While at full sprint, she raised her pistol, praying her aim would be true.
“Duck!”
What? Then it dawned on her. The dark form was one of the living…uninfected…help. Unwilling to drop to the ground, she instead crouched and dodged to the side, never slowing her sprint for the light.
Ack…ack…ack…
The gunfire flashed in the dark. The whiz of bullets zinging past her sounded like high speed bumblebees. From behind her angry growls mixed with the sounds of pain and anguish. The shots continued.
She knifed out of the darkness and into the wonderful sunlight of the front atrium.
Her savior continued to pound away at the infected, brass shell casings clattering to the floor. Abby was shocked to see it was a young boy, maybe in his teens, standing just inside the light of the hall, holding an assault rifle. The black gun looked massive up against his tiny frame. The recoil from each shot slammed his shoulders back even as he leaned into the rifle.
He never looked over, focusing straight ahead. “Go! Exit that way.”
Infected continued to shriek out with rage from inside the dark confines of the giant room.
Abby didn’t know which way “that way” was but it only took a moment of looking before she saw the green exit sign a dozen paces to her right. A glance in the other direction brought her worst fears to realization. The gunfire was drawing infected from the entrance area where she had first gained access to the building.
She yelled, “They’re coming!“
“I know...go!”
Rifle fire continued to thunder throughout the hallway.
Abby turned and raced for the exit. The huge wall of windows that overlooked the plaza was on her left. Through the glass she could see undead staggering aimlessly in the lawn and on the pavement of the street. They were drawn to the noise, but could not locate the source.
The Demented Z (Novella): Confliction Page 3