Suddenly, Duncan slowed down. He went into a small store and rooted around among some boxes. The rest of us didn’t argue, we were grateful for the chance to catch our breath.
“I thought I was in shape,” Charlie said. “I run a couple miles a day back home.”
“Do you run it with a full pack and weapons?” Tommy asked, stretching his leg.
“Good point. No, I don’t,” Charlie said. He looked over Tommy’s shoulder. “Incoming.”
Tommy turned around and saw a small zombie had come out of a store. It moved quickly across the street, keeping cars between us and it as it moved closer. Suddenly, it ran from in between two vans and raced over the street. A second later it flipped backwards, shot dead by Tommy’s gun.
“Nice shot,” I said. I looked in the store. “What the hell is he doing?”
“I have no idea,” Charlie said.
At that moment, Duncan came out of the store cradling something in his arms. At first I was worried he had rescued a baby which would have complicated things immensely. But when I looked at the bundle, I saw it was a small kitten. The poor thing was starved and dehydrated, and Duncan was dipping his finger in his canteen and letting the animal weakly lick the water off. The kitten was black with a white belly and a white collar of fur halfway around its neck. Its little paws were white, and it had a white mustache under its nose. On its forehead was a very faint point of white fur.
“A cat? Seriously?” Charlie said.
“Janna wanted one,” Duncan said. “I heard this one calling out. His mother, and brothers and sisters were all dead. This one’s a survivor.” The little kitten was gaining strength with the water he was getting, and I could hear his little motor going as he licked Duncan’s fingers.
“Well, pack him up, and let’s get moving,” I said. I wasn’t going to argue with Duncan. Anyone or anything we could save from the Upheaval was worth keeping in my book.
“What are you going to name him?” Tommy asked as we started moving again.
“I like Tucker, since he’s a little tuxedo cat,” Duncan said as he made a place for the kitten in the front pouch of his vest.
“Can we get moving please?” Charlie said, looking back down the road.
We moved further down the street, climbing over cars and basically moving past what was a major battle. Another block up and I could see why. Two blocks north was a hospital. As we had experienced in the past, hospitals were usually ground zero for outbreaks. Hopefully, where we were headed it would not be the same.
The road curved slightly to the south, and then curved back to the east. As we turned, four zombies were hanging out on a side road. Charlie swung into action, hitting the lead zombie in the head with one of his tomahawks. He left the axe in its skull at it fell, cracking another in the top of its head, dropping it in its tracks. I swung on the third, taking it down, while Tommy handled the fourth. The skirmish was over in seconds, and the three of us turned to see Duncan leaning against a car, just taking in the scenery.
“Bunch of hogs,” Duncan said critically.
“You can have the next four,” I replied, wiping off my pick.
“Cool.”
Two blocks up, and we found what we were looking for. It was a low building with a high arched roof and a long driveway leading up to the front entrance. There didn’t seem to be any damage, but anyone displaying virus symptoms wouldn’t be brought to a cancer center.
“Let’s get in,” I said. Tommy worked the lock and managed to get it open. He’d picked up that skill after we had a vicious fight at a small store. We’d have been safe, but we couldn’t get in through the back entrance which happened to be a steel reinforced door.
Inside, Tommy swung back and locked the door. If we were lucky, the Z’s didn’t see us come in here. If we were really lucky, they would keep going and we might have a straight shot back to the river. If not, well, we’d been here before, metaphorically speaking.
The lobby was decorated in a southwest motif, not what I expected in the middle of farm country, but I guess it was meant to be relaxing, given the stress the patients who came here were experiencing. We blew past the receptionist desk and made our way towards the stairs. We were looking for storerooms, not equipment. One level down, we found a door that gave us hope we were looking in the right place. It was open, which helped matters greatly.
“What are we looking for?” Charlie asked, opening lockers filled with pills and vials.
I started to answer, then stopped mid-sentence. “You know, I don’t remember exactly,” I said stupidly.
“No worries. Do you at least remember what it started with?” Tommy asked, looking at another cabinet full of drugs.
“Duplo- something?” I said. “I’m sorry guys, it just left my head.”
“Well, let’s grab a little of each, and we can increase our odds of getting it just by chance,” Tommy said. He picked up a garbage can and took out the plastic liner. Facing a cabinet, he began pulling out vials and bottles by the twos and threes.
Not wanting to waste a good idea, the rest of us found bags and filled them as well, taking what amounted to a near perfect sampling of what the clinic had to offer. I hoped what we were looking for was in here somewhere.
“Let’s get out of here before the sun starts to set,” I said, shouldering my bag of goodies. It landed against my back and sounded like a baby rattle. I looked over at my friends and saw they had the same reaction to the sound their own bags made when they hit their backs.
Where we were once silent, we were now backup to a mariachi band. Perfect.
“Could be worse,” Duncan said, giving Tucker a small pet on his head.
“How? By strapping cymbals to our knees and taping harmonicas to our mouths?” Tommy asked.
“We could be stuck in that alley with the zombies knowing we were there.”
That was true. If you could move, you could survive. I took up as much slack as I could with my bag. “If we have another choice, spill it; otherwise, we do the best we can,” I said, heading for the stairs.
The rest of my crew followed as we went back to the lobby. Cautiously looking outside, I could see several Z’s wandering down the street. The general lack of purpose in their step told me they had lost sight of me and were only just moving because it was the last direction they were headed in.
“Back way, if we can find it,” I whispered, slipping back out of sight.
“On it,” Tommy said. He disappeared into the building, moving towards what should be the back end.
I followed at a slower pace, looking around at the center. There was a section dedicated to kids, decorated in a kind of jungle theme. It was sad that it was necessary, but as far as I remembered, cancer didn’t care how old you were.
At the end of the hall, Tommy waved us towards the back. We moved quickly, rattling as the pills on our backs made their presence known.
At the far end of the hall, Tommy led us towards a service entrance which brought us to a loading dock. It was big enough for a small truck or an ambulance, as the case most likely used to be.
“Through here. There’s a small driveway which leads to the next block up. It’s covered by grass and brush on both sides, so we should be okay,” Tommy said. He looked back. “You need to feed that thing now?” he said.
Duncan shrugged. “He’s hungry. Besides, if I don’t feed him, he’ll stay awake and start making noise. You want that? If I feed him, he’ll probably go to sleep.”
That made sense. “Feed him. You need anything?” I asked.
“He likes the jerky. I have to chew it a little for him,” Duncan said.
Charlie snorted. “You’re both fucking nuts.”
Five minutes later, we were back outside making our way carefully back through the brush. At one point, we heard something moving through the grass, but it turned out to be a snake.
Tucker had eaten his fill and was contentedly riding in Duncan’s pocket. His little eyes were half closed as he yawned.
Suddenly his ears went forward, and his eyes opened wide, a small growl coming out of his throat. Duncan shrugged, and we slipped into the brush, keeping ourselves as quiet as possible.
Ahead of us, moving across the mouth of the driveway, was a small band of about ten zombie. They moved along, groaning ever so softly, searching for whatever it was that zombies searched for when they weren’t in attack mode.
After a few minutes, we emerged from the grass. Tommy went over to Duncan.
“That cat is staying with us. Anyone have an argument with that will answer to me.” Tommy rubbed Tucker’s head gently and was rewarded with a loud purr.
That was the pattern on our way back. Tucker rode high in Duncan’s pocket, and he would growl when he heard or smelled zombies. Duncan would warn us and we would duck for cover, staying out of sight until the zombies passed. We made our way up two blocks and then made our way over to the river. It was eerily quiet without the singing, and I was surprised it was over so quickly, but with the newest member of the team, we were moving better than I could have hoped.
We did have a bad moment when Tucker growled, and we ducked into a nearby store. The zombies were just about past when Tucker decided he wanted to show his gratitude to Duncan by starting to meow loudly. Duncan was scrambling to quiet the kitten down while the rest of us sweated it out, waiting to see if the thirty zombies wandering past were going to come back and investigate.
We made the river in good time, and just as we were starting over the bridge the zombies saw us. A huge moan went up, and the chase was on,
“Well, nothing lasts forever. Move!” I yelled, bringing up my rifle to cover our retreat.
Tommy and Duncan raced for the barrier while Charlie and I covered the retreat. We had enough time to get to the barricade and step over, but I wanted to make sure we had plenty of time.
“Drop five on your side, I’ll drop five on mine.” I told Charlie.
Charlie’s rifle answered for him as he fired. Seven shots took out five zombies, creating a foot hazard for the ones behind. I dropped my five with six shots, something I had to remind Charlie of later.
“Get over,” I said, standing by the walkway.
Charlie fairly flew across the narrow walkway, climbing the wall with relative ease. I fired twice more, knocking down a small zombie that was running well ahead of the pack. I slipped my rifle back over my shoulder and made it to the wall, throwing my bag of medicine over the top. A quick climb up the bars, and I was on the other side, nodding to my friends that we had survived another run through the zombies.
I looked at Tommy. “We forgot to leave a message for the army,” I said.
Tommy laughed. “I think we can manage something on this side.”
“Just make sure you draw a cat,” Duncan said.
Tucker just snuggled in and purred.
Madison, IN
It was the not knowing that was the worst. Was that a breeze or a zombie lying in wait? Were my friends still alive? Or were they coming for me as newly made zombies?
I had wedged myself in between the walls of an old building, hiding from a small gang of little monsters. They were kid Z’s, twelve of them, and they were hunting for me. I had found this hiding place in the back of a cleaning closet, and I was able to secure the opening with the same piece of plywood that had let me through.
I squeezed through the narrow passage, trying to climb over pipes and ductwork as silently as I could. I was grateful this old building had been built this way, but I also knew I was going to eventually run out of space.
A scraping sound behind me turned into a scrabbling as nails clawed at wood.
Damn. They must have sniffed me out and were now coming for me. I moved faster and reached the end of the wall. There was a dark space above my head, and taking a chance, I jumped up and grabbed an old gas pipe, hoping it would stay secure. My luck held as the pipe did, and I pulled myself up to where I could swing my legs up to the dark space. Flicking my light on briefly, it showed a flat space and then another dark opening on the other side.
I figured it must be a doorway, so I stepped over and dropped to the other side. Instantly something slammed into the doorframe, and I could hear the clacking of little teeth as they hunted for me. On the edge of the doorframe where the wood came together, I could hear the long, drawn in breaths of something trying to smell me out.
I waited for a minute, and I realized they weren’t able to pinpoint where I was. All they were trying to do was to spook me into making a mistake and revealing where I was. If I made that mistake, they could hem me in, and I’d have no place to go.
I moved along, keeping quiet, listening to the little zombies race around the hallway on the other side of the wall. They were in a frenzy because they had seen me, chased me, and then lost me.
For a brief moment, I wondered about where everyone else was, but they had problems of their own. The last I had seen of them they were racing ahead of a crowd of small zombies that had burst out of a house we thought was clear. I got cut off by a smaller group and wound up taking refuge here.
Some refuge. When I went to the third floor to see if I could start picking off zombies from my friends, the little group currently after my ass came flying down the hallway. I pivoted so fast I nearly twisted my knee in half. I did manage to kill one that got too close, but that just seemed to enrage the rest. There was a kid who was probably thirteen that was determined to tear my throat out. At the end of the tunnel, I ran into a solid wall. If it was as thick as the one I was in, there was no getting around it. By the sound of the clicking behind me, that way was closed. Down was out, so that left up. A flash of my light showed space above me, so I found a pipe and started moving up. It was slow going, and the insulation around the pipe made climbing difficult. But I had no place else to go unless I wanted to crack a hole in the wall. Of course, every Z chasing me would be waiting on the other side with forks and napkins, but at least I’d be out of the wall.
When I had climbed high enough, I could see just a ghost of light coming from a small field of squares in front of me. It took me a minute, but I figured out what I was looking at. It was the dropped ceiling in one of the classrooms. I swung my leg over to the top of the wall and lay there quietly, trying to control my breathing. Anyone in the classroom would think the corner of the room had the heaves.
I slowly stuck my knife in a corner of the closest ceiling tile and lifted it carefully. It moved up an inch and then fell with a clatter. I winced and waited for a reaction. It wasn’t long in coming. I heard the patter of little feet, the scraping as desks were run into, and then the sounds moved away. I waited a few minutes and then I heard the sounds again. This time the feet were slowly moving, searching the corner. I could almost see the little upturned face as it smelled the air, trying to find the scent with which to hunt me down.
Right now I smelled like dust and mildew, so good luck with that. I waited some more, and the sounds faded away. I stuck my knife slowly through the ceiling tile and pulled it up again, this time angling the blade so the tile couldn’t slide off easily. I put a small piece of broken wall in the crack and pulled my knife out. From where I was I could see the whole room, and the place was clear. I’d have been happier with a closed door, but an empty room was okay. I’d gotten away from my pursuers, and this room of desks gave me an idea.
I pulled the ceiling tile up and out of the way, making sure I was quiet. I checked the room again, then grabbed the corner of the wall. I lowered myself through the opening, hanging there while I decided on my landing. Figuring the floor was the quietest, I dropped with barely a sound, but I still had my pick out at the ready. Nothing came in the door, so I walked over there as quietly as I could.
I stopped just short of the doorway and stepped out of the line of sight. I could hear the little feet shuffle by, their bare skin slapping the terrazzo floor. A minute later, I reached the doorway and slowly closed it. I was glad to see the door didn’t have a window. They must have built
this school back before windows were mandatory on an interior school door.
I took some desks and placed them on their sides, stacking them about three high. That made a barrier of about four feet which was about what I needed. I made a corridor out of the desks which ended in a two tables stacked on top of each other. I tied the legs of the top table to the legs of the bottom, making the platform that much more stable. I put some earplugs in, figuring this was going to be loud. My hearing was already shot from the countless times I fired my guns without protection; but if I had the time, I was going to do it right. I slid the tables in between the desks and then opened the classroom door. I climbed up quickly, and checking my loads, sat in the center of the table. I started whistling, waiting for the little zombies to hear me.
It took a minute, but I presently heard the feet again. The little raggedy heads appeared in the doorway, and they looked around, scanning for the source of the noise. I whistled again and three heads snapped up, their teeth baring in snarls as they finally saw me. I waved with my left hand as I brought up my gun with my right. I didn’t give them a chance to jump; I fired twice, killing two of them. The third ran right at me, not having any place to go, and I shot her dead as well.
The shots were like a clarion call to the rest of the zombies. I could hear scrambling and feet thumping up stairs as they came for me. I held my aim at the door, and the next head that looked through never looked at anything else again. There was a general scrum at the door as several zombies tried to get through at the same time, and the resulting blockage gave me the chance to shoot two more. Another fell through as those went down, and he died as well. I missed a shot as four of them slipped through the door at the same time, scrambling to get closer to the man up high. One of them jumped onto the table below me, but fell as he stood up trying to grab me. I shot him in the head for his trouble, then focused on the other two who jumped up. One jumped high, cracked his head on the side of the table, and fell to the floor, killed by his own actions.
The Zombie Wars: Call To Arms (White Flag Of The Dead Book 7) Page 9