“So this is the worst environment imaginable,” Eddy said.
“No. But I can come up with one if it would make you feel better,” Wes mused.
Eddy rolled his eyes. “I guess the only pro is that no more infected can come in.”
Wes patted Eddy’s burly arm, and joked, “See, that’s the spirit!” When Eddy grunted, Wes immediately regretted the mocking gesture and tried to save face. “I mean that...it’s good of you, you know...to stay positive, eh?”
Suddenly, a bulb went off in Alex's head.
“I think I have an idea,” he said, pointing to the center of the page.
Dylan looked up confused. “The garden?”
“Exactly,” Alex replied, grabbing a pencil off the desk. He scribbled his plan on the map. “See, when we get down and out of the stairwell, we take out any zomb nearby. Then, we head to this door here quick-style. It will dump us into the garden. There we can prop the door open and create a funnel. We can take them out one by one, and if they get through, at least we have more space to fan out and take them on. It's a better option than doing it in this hallway here, or just charging blindly through the building.”
Charlie nodded.
“I like it. Those double doors on the east side are the only ones that lead into the garden. Looks like not all Americans are as dumb as they appear. All in favor?”
“As long as you keep one of them alive for my research,” Diane began to say, “I don’t care how we do it.”
The decision was unanimous.
“By the way,” Alex started to say, “why are there so many of them out there? I’ve only seen numbers like that in big cities, not at some random building.”
Charlie answered for the others.
“About the time the outbreaks starting spreading, a few people showed up and protested. Some thought the WHO had something to do with it; others thought they were holding back a cure-”
“But to the public, this was only an admin building. Why’d they come here? Why not a hospital or something?”
“People are idiots. Maybe they thought the WHO had access to a cure or something. I really couldn’t tell ya,” Wes answered.
“Shit, man. My cousins and I were just as dumb,” Alex admitted. “We drove across the entire U.S. thinking California was a damn safe zone. Had we known any better, we would have just posted up on a beach somewhere.”
“I hear ya,” Charlie agreed.
Dylan added more to the story.
“Then, sure enough, infection hit Vancouver. That’s when things started gettin’ bad. The military came in and commandeered this building. They used it as one of their bases to stage an offensive. Every day soldiers were sent out and every night less came back. Then one day they stopped sending them out altogether and this building changed into a refugee camp-”
“And that’s when things gotrealbad,” interrupted Wes. “By that time hundreds and thousands of people were showing up. Everyone wanted in. But to ensure safety, the military had to clear each person and thorough screenings took time. And as the infection got closer, people started getting desperate-”
Wes stopped and looked to Charlie to fill in the worst of it.
“Both sides were on edge. The people wanted in, but the military had to be careful not to let the infection in. Then that desperation escalated to aggression. Shouting turned into pushing, pushing turned into throwing things...then...then it all went to hell. They were like a crazed mob- I can’t blame ‘em, I’d be freaking out too if I were outside. They attacked the guards and tried to force their way in, and that’s when the military opened fire.” Before continuing, Charlie shook his head ever so slightly as he shuddered at the horrific memory. “They just shot at everyone. So many innocent men, women, children...all scared, all just trying to get to safety.”
The tragic irony of the situation caused Wes to snort before saying, “The way I see it the worst part of it is that dozens of good people ending up being murdered by those who were supposed to protect ‘em.”
Charlie nodded and concluded describing how the military fell. “When the civvies started to scatter, the gunfire let up a bit, but by then the first of the infected arrived. There were hundreds of people running around; it was impossible to tell who was infected and who was just scared shitless. It didn’t take long for the infected to breach the perimeter, and when the front gate crashed down, the military pulled back inside the building and locked it down. We thought we were safe in here, but one of the soldiers was bit and didn’t tell anyone. The next night he changed, and the infection spread. Twenty of us survived that night.”
Silence took over while each member readied themselves. There was so much to think about; so many distractions, but everyone knew what was ultimately at stake.
As Diane, Alex, and Eddy prepared for the battle, they looked across the room at the three Canadian servicemen.
Dylan had motioned Wes and Charlie over, and the three men put their heads together. It looked like a prewar ritual. One by one, they recited a line. The last was sung in unison.
“No matter what happens in day or night”
“We stand brave, together and fight”
“If we don't return, may we rest in peace”
“But first one to Heaven’s...”
“At the bar buying drinks!”
Alex chuckled. “Fuckin’ Canadians.”
1416 hours
As they descended the southern stairwell, Charlie explained more of what happened at the facility.
“After the building was compromised, everyone scattered. People ran and hid on the upper levels, but the infected chased them down, taking floor after floor. Finally, us and a couple other guards and civvies said screw it. We had enough. If we were gonna die, it wasn’t going to be chased like some animal. That’s when we made our push-”
“Damn right,” Wes interjected.
“So we worked our way down, taking back each level. It wasn’t bad at first. Random walkers here and there, but when we hit the bottom floor, geez, it was a bloodbath. They outnumbered us five to one easy. We were forced to stop there. So, we decided to block off three of the four stairwells completely. The south stairwell door had been locked and chained, just in case we completely ran out of food and needed to make a suicide run.”
“Speaking of food,” Alex started to asked, “howdid you guys manage?”
Wes took this question.
“When the military staged here, they stored their food on the second floor. It was mostly IMPs. It stands for Individual Meal Packs, which are soldiers’ field rations- basically our version of your MREs. We thought it best to save those packs and started out eating what was fresh and left in the refrigerators and vending machines, but that stuff went fast. After a couple weeks, we were on to the IMPs. We had inventoried everything and figured there was enough of the packs to feed a thousand people for two weeks. I hate to say it, but we were lucky there were only a few of us left at that point, otherwise we’d have starved to death months ago.”
By the end of Wes’ explanation, the group arrived at the first floor.
Quietly, Charlie undid the lock and wrapped the chain around his shoulder, intent on taking it with him.
“Alright, Alex, you're up,” Charlie whispered.
Since it was his plan, Alex took the lead. Before opening the door, he pressed his ear to the metal frame. Using the knowledge and tactics Nick had taught him, he gauged the immediate threats on the other side. Without speaking, he held up four fingers. Next, he drew his pistol, and then nodded to Wes.
Each person’s nerves were firing. The anxiety was palpable. Their palms and foreheads dripped sweat and rightfully so. In a second, they would run out and attempt to take on an unknown number of infected.
Wes gave one final look to everyone indicating his intent. Then, he swung the door open and Alex burst out with lethal ferocity. Gunfire erupted immediately. Charlie was steps behind, then Eddy, Diane, and taking the rear, Wes.
A
s they began their counterclockwise route to the east side garden door, they witnessed the gruesome lethality of the Trinity Virus. They gagged at the rotten stench, but couldn't spare the precious seconds to throw up, despite wanting to.
The floor was covered in blood, body parts and internal organs alike. Doused in bloody smears and handprints, the white walls and Italian tiles were barely visible. Dead bodies lay strewn about, casting looks of pure horror on their rotting faces. The dead ones who weren't so dead, shambled, limped, and ran at the sounds of gunfire.
Alex may have been in the lead, but everyone was firing. Pouring out from offices and rushing around corners, the infected were everywhere.
“Almost there!” Alex yelled. He released the magazine and injected a fresh one. The rail slid forward and in less than three-seconds, he was firing again.
The first round that exited his 9MM Beretta entered a young man's forehead and mushroomed out the back. Bits of brain drained from the crater as his body dropped limp to the cold tile.
“Here!” Alex said, pointing to the door. He dropped to a knee and covered the front.
Charlie opened the door and led Eddy and Diane through. Wes tapped Alex on the shoulder, and the two ducked into the garden. As Charlie closed the glass door, an infected man leapt hands first. With all their might, Charlie and Eddy shoved the door closed, severing the man’s hand. His bloody stump pounded against the door, but the glass held- despite the immense pressure when half dozen more pressed behind him.
Panic momentarily set in when the group realized that they weren't alone in the garden.
“Diane watch out!” yelled Wes.
An infected woman leapt out from behind an apple tree. Her snarling teeth made it within inches of the surprised doctor, but Diane managed to react just in time. She fired point blank through the woman’s mouth.
“Th-thanks,” Diane said, shaken.
Alex and Wes quickly dispatched the remaining three infected inside the garden, then came back to help brace the door. At first, their plan seemed as though it would work, but they underestimated the amount of infected on the bottom floor. Charlie's prediction of twenty-five to fifty was, in actuality, more like fifty to seventy-five.
All the men pressed against the glass, but they were losing this reverse tug of war.
“Diane! The chain!” Charlie yelled. “Tie it around the handles!”
Diane pulled the metal chain loose from Charlie's shoulder, and as fast as she could, she passed it through the handles. She finished with a sloppy but tight knot.
For the time being, the door was secure, but bodies were slowly pushing through the two frames. Collarbones snapped, shoulders broke and limbs hyper-extended, but the undead felt no pain.
Alex ordered everyone twenty feet back and into one single file firing line to conserve dwindling ammo. “Check your ammo and get ready! One person fires until he's done, then step aside.”
“I'm on my last magazine!” Wes yelled.
“Me too,” Diane seconded.
“Mag and a half for me,” Charlie announced.
“I'm out,” Eddy declared. “Sorry, not the best shot.”
Alex grit his teeth but didn't hesitate.
“Eddy, take mine,” he shouted tossing his gun. “Fifteen rounds, make em count.”
Eddy accepted the pistol but asked, “What are you gonna do?”
The hunter unsheathed his machete with one hand and withdrew Nick's hatchet with the other. Alex planned to fight feral with feral. He wanted to get up close and personal, no, he longed for it.
“Get ready! Here they come!” Alex shouted, giving his weapons a double twirl. He stood off to the right hand side, waiting.
The force of the infected had bent the metal doorframe inward, allowing for the first of the undead to crawl into the killing zone. For Charlie, it was just one easy target after the next. He emptied his weapon, stepped aside with Alex and drew out an expandable baton from his waistband. Wes took over next. Every shot hit, but not all in the head. Ten slump bodies later, his gun clicked empty.
A mound of bodies piled up in front of the garden door, but more came through relentless, fearless.
Eddy stepped up next. True to his own word, he was a bad shot. Most of his rounds made contact, unfortunately not in the head. Even worse, the rounds that missed completely, pierced the glass door causing it to splinter. Within seconds, the left pane shattered and the doorway was breached. Infected poured in, crawled over their fallen brothers and released gargled cries.
“Everybody fall back and spread out!” Alex ordered. He turned his Angels hat backwards, furrowed his brow and ignored his own advice. In a second, he was in the trenches, swinging.
“Alex!” Diane yelled.
She tried to go back, but Eddy grabbed her and said, “Leave him!”
Alex the person was already gone. The warrior was all who remained. He fought with the passion and ferocity of a Spartan and the grace and speed of a Samurai.
In a safer, defensive position behind a patch of waist high cacti, Eddy, Wes, Charlie, and Diane, waited for the infected to get past Alex. Initially, they weren't sure if any would. The first ones to crawl over the mound of bodies were met with lightning strikes from Alex's blades.
With scary precision, Alex sliced Achilles tendons and the backs of knees to immobilize his attackers. After, he would spin around them like a gymnast or forcibly kick the most aggressive. Whenever the opportunity presented itself, Alex finished them off by severing spinal cords or impaling his blades into their skulls.
However, for every one that Alex took out, two more appeared, crawling over the mound. It was a losing battle.
Fortunately for Alex, Diane called out to him, temporarily breaking him out of his bloodlust. “There's too many, Alex! Come back!”
Agitated and unafraid, Alex scanned the mound of bodies piling in front of the garden door and reluctantly agreed. He dislodged the machete from his latest victim, and then hustled back to the others.
Diane fired at the threats trailing Alex. “You're fucking crazy, Alex! What were you thinking?”
The Canadians both agreed. They had been to war, seen combat head on, but nothing as insane as what Alex did.
“You're bat-shit crazy, eh!”
“Ya, what was that about?”
Alex ignored the comments. His eyes zeroed in on the last wave of infected. His grip flexed and loosened with the rhythm of his heartbeat. He was ready for round two.
“I count about fifteen left!” Eddy shouted. He clenched tightly to a fireman's axe that he found earlier in the stairwell.
Diane fired her final bullet, dropped the handgun and readied her expandable baton. “This is it, boys!”
The first infected man tried rushing through a grove of cacti, only to be temporarily impeded by the thorny plants. Eddy took the opportunity and swung a huge downward blow to the man's skull. The force split the man's head all the way down to the shoulder line.
“Anyone ever tell you, you look like Paul Bunyan?” Charlie joked amidst the approaching chaos.
“Oh good one, eh! I see it!” Wes added.
“Focus guys!” Diane yelled.
The pair of security guards brought back straight faces and readied their blunt instruments. Eddy spun the handle of his axe in nervous anticipation. No one noticed, but in an attempt to draw some of the infected away, Alex disappeared like a ninja to the gravel clearing on their left.
Before anyone could say another word, the melee fell upon them. This was their last stand. They were outnumbered nearly three to one. Each of them swung and kicked as though their life depended on it. They shattered jaws, skulls and necks. Blood filled the garden like a crimson lake.
1443 hours
“Eddy!” Diane shouted.
The burly construction worker was busy dislodging his axe from the neck of a young woman. Behind him, the last of the infected, an obese woman in a Canuck's jersey, lunged in for a bite. Eddy rotated to defend himself from the unf
oreseen attack but was too late. As he pivoted, his eyes met his attacker's; the darkness, hollowness and lifelessness was transfixing.
As she went in for a jugular attack, Canuck’s body suddenly twitched, then collapsed onto Eddy's midsection, sandwiching him into the dirt.
“Help!” Eddy yelled, scrambling to push her off. “Help! Anyone!”
Oddly, the woman wasn't moving, wasn't trying to tear Eddy’s body into shreds of meat.
Charlie and Diane rushed over and helped roll the woman aside. After kicking back to a safe distance, Eddy saw it. A hatchet impaled into Canuck’s cervical vertebrae. The shaken foreman looked up and thirty feet away he saw the answer to what saved his life. Alex.
“Everyone, okay?” Alex asked, jogging over.
Everyone nodded, but Eddy pulled him in for a bear hug.
“Thanks, Alex,” he said, nearly squeezing the life out of his savior. “I owe you big time.”
“Can't breathe,” Alex joked. After he was released, Alex reached down for his weapon. “No worries, man. Anytime.”
“Looks like we made it through that shit storm in one piece, eh, Wes?” Charlie asked, thinking his friend was next to him. But he wasn’t, and Wes was nowhere to be found. “Wes! Wes! Where are you at, buddy?”
Diane, Eddy, and Alex realized, too, Wes was not among them. They scanned the entire garden and repeatedly called out his name, but all that remained was a dump of mangled corpses and pools of blood and guts.
In a miniature stone quarry near the west wall, Charlie spotted a body on its back raising a weak hand.
“Wes!” he shouted, taking off in a full sprint.
The others followed steps behind him.
Charlie came to an abrupt halt next to friend's body. He bent down on both knees next to his friend's head.
Wes' scared eyes stared into Charlie’s. He attempted to say something, but his throat was filled with too much blood.
“Wes! No, no, no, no!” Charlie mumbled. He looked up at the others who were just approaching. “Please someone...do something!”
The Longest Road (Book 2): The Change Page 16