The gurney was easier to roll without any weight on it. They rolled it tight against the door and engaged the locks. Tish eyeballed the distance between the foot of the bed and the opposite wall. A slight smile broke across her face. Maybe they weren’t sunk, after all. “I think it’s just enough room, Frannie.”
The other woman cocked her head but said nothing as Tish helped Lizzie to the floor. They put the head of the second gurney at the foot of the first. After a few moments of pushing and heaving, they had the second gurney wedged up against the wall.
Exhausted, she collapsed into a sitting position on top of the second bed. Frannie stood in the center of the room, one hand pressed to her side and the other clutching and unclutching at the leg of her scrub pants. “Tish,” the other woman whispered. “In the other room — what did you do?”
She looked in turn at each of the other three people in the room and sighed. Shouldn’t I be crying? The only thing she felt was a deep fatigue and a desire to curl up into a ball and sleep until this was over. I just killed two men. I just killed two patients.
“What I had to,” she replied, and the first set of fists began to pound on the door to the surgical suite.
Pete hobbled as fast as he could through the passageway into the central silo. A few of the guards stood aside and let the others through before closing the outer door and throwing the locks. The zombies outside had stopped beating on the door, but they weren’t taking any risks. Pete approved of the sentiment even though he had other things on his mind.
At the end of the corridor, a pair of men beckoned the group forward. Pete stepped to the side to let the rest by, though Vir, Jenny, and Charlie stayed close to him. As they stepped through, the men at the door threw it shut and heaved bars into place. Standard procedure — secure every area at every possible point in case of further breaches.
On one hand, it sucked pretty hard for anyone left on the other side, but it also ensured that any small breach wasn’t going to turn into a full-fledged outbreak. Pete turned away from the door and scanned the interior of the ground floor.
The floors of the emergency shelters were donut-shaped. A pair of central metal support cylinders rose from the ground floor and stretched all the way to the top. On the ground floor, they’d cut the right-hand cylinder open, and Pete could see people clambering up the ladder welded to the inner wall. On the floor above, the ladder was in the opposite support. Welded caps interrupted each segment so that the furthest one could fall was about fifteen feet — painful to be sure, but survivable. The initial proposal had been to use a single support column with a single, continuous ladder from floor to roof. They’d abandoned it for safety reasons. It was still a lousy arrangement for the elderly and the — ahem — handicapped. It was also the best they could do in the absence of niceties like elevators or enough concrete to cast an actual staircase. He muttered, “Let’s go,” to his entourage and hobbled that way.
To no surprise, most of the people milling around on the ground floor were the older folks who didn’t get around so well, along with Val and her walking wounded. She spotted Pete and sprinted in his direction.
She grabbed his arm and fell in line beside him as he headed toward the first ladder. “Pete, have you seen Larry or Tish?”
He almost stopped in surprise, but he caught himself at the last moment and kept hobbling. “No, but I’ve got bigger problems. Trina and some of the other kids are up in the nest, and they’ve got climbers coming.”
Val brought her hands up to her mouth. “Oh, God. This is insane. I had to fight with Norma to keep her from having the exterior doors sealed before you guys got here. I don’t know if we’re short, it’s chaos in here.”
Pete gritted his teeth. No wonder the guys at the door had been in such a hurry to shut everything down. “Did they do a head count or anything?”
“No.”
“Damn it,” Pete cursed. He glanced around the room. “Get everyone calmed down and get a count. Send somebody up to the next floor and have them do the same, and so on. We need to know how short we are — we can’t just leave people out there. Larry should still be in the clinic.” He thought about the double glass doors they’d scavenged out of a strip mall and tried not to let his emotions bubble through to his face. Val was smart; she’d already done the math. “He’s not unarmed,” Pete said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. “Worst case scenario, kid, we’ll make enough noise here to have every one of those bags of pus coming for us. Who knows, Larry may just nap through the whole thing.”
She gave him a doubting look but finally nodded. He watched her go and turned to his group. Hanratty and Rivas sidled up and joined the crew. He imagined the Marine felt like a third wheel without something to do.
Good. I have a feeling I’m going to need some backup.
“I want everyone to go up before me,” he said. “Things have gotten bad enough without Norma and her people losing their marbles. But I have no time to deal with this shit right now. I have to get to the Crow’s Nest.”
“Pete,” Vir interjected firmly. “Not to belabor the obvious, but you’re staggering on level ground. How are you going to climb out onto a catwalk six stories in the air and not fall and break your bloody neck?”
Pete clenched his jaw and tried to resist the urge to punch him in the face. But Vir had a point. His shoulders sagged as he admitted, “I don’t know. But I have to try.”
“I’ll do it,” Charlie rumbled. He looked at each member of the group in turn. He paused the longest on Hanratty and Rivas. Finally, he shrugged and said, “Not like I need to worry about the spears.”
“You hope,” Pete spat. “Everything else has changed, who’s to say you’re still immune?”
Hanratty hissed a low curse. Pete gave him a crooked grin. “Merry Christmas, Adam. Charlie has had more than his fair share of bites over the years and is no worse for wear.” He turned back to Charlie. “Hell if I’m letting you go out there alone, big guy. I’ve got your six, even if I have to do it from down below.” He looked around. “Rest of you can keep Norma and her people in line, ooh rah?”
Hanratty and Rivas replied in turn, and the others chorused in. Not bad, he judged. It’ll do.
He gestured, and the others began climbing up to the next level. He hoped by going last he could streamline the process of going up. Anything would be faster than the entire group bunching up behind him as he tried to negotiate the ladder. He assessed his damaged prosthetic and decided he was better off not even trying to use it. As Vir cleared the next floor and left the ladder open, he slung his rifle and hauled himself up with both hands, planting his good leg on the second step. He paused and repeated the process. He had enough upper-body strength to take two steps at a time, but by the time he accepted Vir’s outstretched hand and stepped out onto the second story, his arms trembled with fatigue. Suck it up, Marine.
This floor was much the same as the last, though most of the people milling around or sitting were family groups or other folks. He didn’t spot anyone that he recognized as a wall guard or any of Norma’s normal hangers on. He grunted to himself. Typical. Their defense plan hinged on getting everyone but defenders up to the top floor, then guarding the second. In the old days, that was the definition of safety. Norma and her people had not only abandoned the less able on the bottom floor, they hadn’t bothered to mount a defense in the event the zombies breached the ground floor. They’re up top, he realized, and Pete shook his head. He’d always considered Norma a flake, but this went beyond the pale.
But . . . in a way, it made a strange sort of sense. Many of the wall guards hadn’t had the mental flexibility to deal with running, spear-throwing zombies. How could he expect the likes of Norma and the rest of the council, who hadn’t been outside of the walls in years, to react with anything less than panic?
Given that, he could almost feel sorry for them. Almost. But the fact that they’d left people downstairs made him shake with rage.
He turned to Vir and
Charlie. “Check the weapons locker, see if they left anything. I’m betting they stopped to haul it up with them but you never know.”
The two went to inspect the tall, metal cabinet bolted behind the two main support columns. They hadn’t stored their cream-of-the-crop weaponry in there, but the stuff was capable in a pinch.
Pete turned to the crowd and barked, “What the hell are you doing just standing there?” The reaction rippled through the crowd, but he didn’t give them time to digest it. He jerked an accusatory finger at the ladder to the ground floor. “A couple dozen people down there who can’t climb a ladder and you’re sitting around fat and happy?”
Someone shouted back, though he couldn’t see them. “They’re going to bust in here!”
“Yeah, and if they do, anything that happens to the folks below is going to be on your conscience. Well, not for long. The zoms can climb now, after all. So after they go through the ground floor they’re coming up here. I’m going to do something about it, though — busted leg and all. What’s your excuse?” He swept his gaze across the room. Most of them avoided eye contact, but a few stood straighter and met his gaze. Most of the latter nodded and moved toward the ladder. Good. That was enough. He hobbled around to the next support and the ladder up to the third floor just as Vir slammed the cabinet door in frustration.
“There’s sod all, Pete.”
Pete shrugged. “That’s all right. We’ll get what we need when we track them down.” He waved the others on and unclipped the radio from his belt. “Alex, you there?”
The boy came back almost immediately. His voice was shaky, and Pete mentally urged the others in front of him to climb faster. “We’re still okay, sir. They’re getting closer. Almost to the walkways.”
Catwalks, Pete corrected, but he didn’t speak. He winced. The hatch at the top of this silo exited directly onto the catwalk. They needed to pick up the pace. “We’re on our way, kid. Hang tight. And hey, Alex?”
“Yes, sir?”
“You’re a dead shot, kid. You guys are going to be just fine. Be right there.”
Pete clipped the radio back onto his belt and repeated his process to climb the ladder. The third floor was much the same; a few people milling around or sitting, and an empty gun cabinet. Pete didn’t even have to yell as much this time. His speech below had echoed up here and they’d gotten the gist of it, even if the wording hadn’t been clear.
He wasn’t doing a head count as he went, but there didn’t seem to be just under two hundred people in here. Half that, maybe. Not good.
Outside the last ladder, Pete gathered his people together and muttered, “Sling your rifles and keep them that way. We don’t draw down. Unless I miss my guess, they’re going to try and stop us. But I don’t think it will come to violence. Norma would rather filibuster us to death than be in the middle of a gunfight.” He waited for nods or murmurs of confirmation and continued, “Same drill, you all go first. When you get up top, act aloof. A couple of you need to go over by the stairs to the upper hatch; the rest get over by the weapons locker. Okay? Let’s roll.”
As before he waited, listening as his team clambered to the stop and stepped out one by one. It didn’t take long before the yelling started.
Pete couldn’t help himself; a crooked grin broke across his face. He whispered under his breath. “Norma, Norma, Norma. You are nothing if not predictable.”
He took a deep breath and steeled himself to climb the ladder. He’d had enough of a break that his arms had stopped shaking.
They were back to shaking as he accepted Vir’s hand once again. He willed them to be still as he stepped out onto the top floor and entered the zone of Norma’s wrath. She put her nose an inch from his face and began her rant.
“I don’t know what you people think you’re doing. We are not going to open any of these exterior doors until the infected have lost interest and wandered off. We have ample supplies in here, but some foolhardy rescue mission is not the best use of the supplies we do have!” Inhale. “Furthermore, you are in no position of official authority to be leading either the police or the wall guards. Frankly, sir, you are a self-entitled kook we allow to sit up in your little nest because we much prefer you up there instead of bothering us down here. You will turn over your rifle and stand down right . . .”
Pete cut her off with a lifted forefinger and a fiery look. “Jim,” he called out. “What’s the count?”
The man stood a bit behind and to the left of Norma. He looked a bit nonplussed at the sudden attention. “Ah . . . I’m sorry, Pete, I don’t follow.”
“When we put together the evac protocols,” Pete hissed through clenched teeth, “One of the first things we agreed to do was a full head count of everyone in the shelter, to see if we were missing anyone. What’s the count, Jim?”
He stammered. “Well, I, uh, that is, we, I mean . . .”
“How short are we, Jim?” Pete hissed. “Cause right off the top of my head, you incompetent morons not only left people in the clinic, there are kids up in the observation post radioing for help.” He raised his voice. “Anybody still got their radio on, in here?” He waited, got no answer, and shook his head. “Good God, people. I’m almost glad Gary didn’t make it because this shit would have killed him.”
“I don’t appreciate your tone!” Norma stepped forward and jabbed a finger into Pete’s chest, punctuating each word.
He looked at her and tried to keep his tone indifferent. “The only reason you’re not laying on the floor unconscious is because my grandma raised me to respect a lady. But you are rapidly approaching the limits of my patience.”
Norma smirked and opened her mouth to retort, but before she could get out the first word, a fist snaked in from Pete’s side and slammed into her chin with a dull thump.
The council member collapsed to the floor in front of him with all the grace of a dropped bag of groceries.
Pete cocked his head down at Norma’s unconscious form and turned to look at Jenny Faqir. The deputy shook her hand and grimaced. “Oww. That hurt a hell of a lot more than I thought it would.”
Pete tried not to grin as he replied, “Well, next time try not to tuck your thumb inside your fist.” He raised his voice and stared Jim down. “Mr. Piper, we’re going to have a temporary change of command for the duration of this crisis. I’m top dog, here, and, uh, Vir, Jenny, and Charlie are my secondaries. You don’t like it, you can take it up with Jenny.” A titter of laughter chorused around the room. He waited for any outbursts. Hearing none, he turned to Charlie. “Let’s go shopping, buddy.”
He couldn’t tell if the guards had taken the better weapons from the other two cabinets and left the dregs in this one, but what was there wasn’t all bad. He just wasn’t sure that what remained was appropriate for their situation. There were a couple of scoped bolt-action rifles, a few older pump shotguns, an M-1 Garand, and a lever-action .44 Mag Marlin 1894.
There was, at least, plenty of ammunition. He glanced over at Charlie and the rifle over his back. It was an M-1 Carbine, chambered in a relatively slow 110-grain round. It would do, in a pinch, but how would the round-nosed .30-caliber rounds do against these newer, better zoms? Some of the rounds from his M4 hadn’t been completely effective, after all.
“Hell,” Pete said, then shrugged the sling of Brett’s rifle off of his shoulder. He held it out to Charlie. “Roll with this. Here, I’ve got plenty of mags.”
Charlie looked at the proffered gun for a moment and frowned. Finally, he unslung the Carbine and set it inside of the cabinet. He took a moment to check over the M4 before slinging it over his shoulder.
Pete transferred his mags out of his musette bag and into Charlie’s waiting hands. As the other man tucked the magazines away in the pockets of his jacket and his web gear, Pete filled the musette bag up with en bloc clips for the Garand. “I’m going to hold the hatch,” he said. “I’ll cover you. You get to the ladder that leads up to the nest and keep it clear on that end. Between the tw
o of us, we keep that segment open long enough for the kids to get inside here, then you fall back in and we figure out our next move. Sound good?”
Charlie considered it, then grabbed the Marlin out of the rack as well. He found an empty pocket and dumped a box of shells into it. “Think I’ll start off with this,” he rumbled. “I’m old school.”
Pete grinned and leaned the Garand against the gun cabinet and pulled out one of the bolt-actions. “I like the way you think.” He slid a box of rounds — .308 Winchester — for the scoped rifle into the bag and decided if he had any more weight to carry he was liable to topple over. “You ready?” He slung the .308 over his shoulder and picked up the Garand.
Charlie gave him a quick nod.
They drew a crowd as they headed for the staircase, and Jim Piper emerged and stepped up beside Pete. “We’re getting everyone up from the second floor onto three now, Pete. Should we bring them up here?”
“No,” Pete decided. “Get everyone consolidated on three. See if you can’t wedge the cabinet in the shaft down on two, that will cut down the possible entrance points to this up here. These damn things have gotten too smart, I don’t know how long our defenses are going to hold. And we can’t count on them giving up and going away like we could back in the old days.”
“Okay. Okay.” Jim gulped. “The count is, ah, the count is, one hundred and twenty-six.”
Man. Pete closed his eyes and tried to think. Their total population was 197 — but no, that was wrong, wasn’t it? Hanratty and his Marines were in here. So out of an even two hundred, they had seventy-four unaccounted for. That was a terrible, potentially crippling blow. How many had they lost at the breach? Ten, maybe twelve? God help him, he couldn’t remember; it was all just a blur. “Once we get the kids back in here, we need to figure something out. We can’t just leave our people high and dry out there.”
“How you fixed for belt-fed 7.62mm, Pete?” Hanratty interjected. “Get us some ammo and some shooters to man the gun ports and we can start cleaning this place out from the LAV. If they’ve got a few of us to pay attention to, it’s going to split their focus. ”
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