by M. Van
Still, this could be my window of escape, if I could only find a way to lower myself. I inspected the door and noticed a horizontal rod that seemed to aid the locking mechanism. I spun around and rolled to the front of the truck where, hidden underneath the boxes, I retrieved the chain Baldy had used to tie up my chair.
Back at the door, I tied the chain to the horizontal rod and prayed it would hold me. After that there was nothing I could do but to sit and wait patiently. That and summon the courage to actually go through with it.
I had opened the door twice but chickened out. Inside, it seemed the truck slowed, but as I opened the door and watched the asphalt speed out from under the rear, I was certain I would break my neck. I wondered if that would be so much worse than what Warren had planned for me. Be careful what you wish for was what he had said after I called him out to bite me. Could that be what he had planned? Was he going to feed me to the zombies? A broken neck would surely be better than that scenario.
As the truck began to slow again, I figured this had to be it. I had no idea how far we’d traveled and how far there was still to go, but the longer I waited, the worse my chance of escaping would get.
The engine sputtered and the rig shook as the wheels came to a halt. Figuring now or never, I pushed up the latch, swung the door open, and held onto the chain. The momentum of the door pulled me along easily, and I rolled off the truck bed. I dropped hard and felt a jolt reverberate through my arms as the chain strained tightly.
As the truck pulled up, it triggered a motion that started me swinging. I had been working out to build up some arm strength, and I was pretty sure I had succeeded, but this was too much. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hang on for long, and I moved my hands along the chain to lower myself. My wheels touched the ground, and still holding onto the chain, I was pulled by the truck. I released the chain, letting my momentum slow before I grabbed the push rings and then stopped altogether. The truck kept going and pulled around another corner. I let out a sigh of relief as it disappeared from view.
It was only then that I took a moment to see where I had ended up and froze. Slowly I moved my head from left to right as my eyes met with each of the five soldiers who stood before me.
| 17
Mags
We had explained the situation to Preston and Tom. The people occupying the distribution center who had been awake at this early hour had all gathered inside the lounge and were still conversing about our proposition to inject them with Divus. With nothing else to do, we figured it wouldn’t hurt to try to rescue the girl in the meantime. Besides, retrieving the girl might aid in the decision-making process. It could be the thing that tipped their choice in favor of Divus.
The plan was simple enough. One of us would walk through the crowd of zombies, get to the girl, inject her, and then walk back with her. But as with most plans, it seemed simple enough as you say it aloud. The risk involved was one I preferred to avoid. Large crowds of zombies were unpredictable, and if something happened to agitate even one of them, then our immunity wouldn’t be enough to get us out alive.
I shed my load carrier and M4, but kept the handgun strapped to my thigh. Preston handed me a little black box that held the syringe needed to inoculate Savanna, and I shoved it into one of the pockets of my pants.
“Here,” he said, handing me a bandana, “you better tie that around your neck, so you can cover your mouth. It’s bound to smell bad down there.”
“You mean, worse than it does up here?” I asked and brought a smile to Preston’s face. Maybe he wasn’t such a hard ass after all.
“And why exactly is it that you’re the one who has to go?” Angie asked, sounding not too happy. Enough daylight filtered in through the glass domes overhead now that it was hard to miss Angie’s glare and the scowl on her face.
“Because we might need the guys’ strength to pull us up if I get the girl back here, and because I have the most experience wandering among zombies,” I replied, and to emphasize my point, I stuck my right hand in the air. Angie didn’t seem impressed by my gloved hand wrapped in tape. She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head. I shifted uneasily as I tugged on the harness I would use to lower myself. My answer clearly hadn’t satisfied her, and this was her way of sharing that. She was right, of course. Angie had the same if not more experience roaming around zombies.
“Besides, I’m taller,” I blurted out. “I’ll be easier to spot when you need to take out zombies.”
The expression Angie’s face softened in what I was hoping would be resignation as she shook her head.
“Ash will kill me if anything happens to you,” she said. I stopped pulling the rope through a loop and gazed up at her. In truth, I hadn’t thought about that, and I probably should have. It wasn’t just the idea of not being able to see the kid again, but she had lost so much already, and I didn’t want to add to that pile. My gaze shifted to the other kid leaning over the railing flashing his light at his sister, and I knew Ash would want me to try to help them.
My eyes returned to Angie, avoiding looking at the zombie mass between her and the rack.
“It’ll be okay,” I said, hoping that I sounded more convincing than I felt. She threw her hands up in defeat and gathered her M4 from where she had placed it against the wall.
“Okay,” she said and gave me a reassuring nod.
Tom stepped closer to Toby and placed a hand on the kid’s shoulder.
“I didn’t know that they teach kids Morse code in school anymore,” he said, sounding impressed. Toby glanced up shyly at the rugged soldier and shrugged.
“My sister taught herself and then me,” he replied. “It’s how we talked at night when we were supposed to be in bed. Our rooms sat opposite from each other and this way our dad wouldn’t find out.”
“Pretty smart,” Tom said and watched how the kid continued to signal his message. A moment later he stopped and peered out at the rack in wait for a reply.
“Excellent,” Tom said, having deciphered the returning message. “Now get back from the edge. You’re freaking out the zombies below us, and we can’t have them rattled.” He pulled the kid away from the railing and ushered him further down the balcony.
Preston came up to me and checked my harness. He tugged on it so hard that the straps dug into my thighs.
“Thanks,” I muttered. He looked up at me and held my gaze.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked. His voice held concern, and I appreciated the gesture.
“Not really,” I replied honestly, “but I’m ready.”
“All right then,” he said and nodded. “Let’s do this.”
I walked up to the railing but stopped as Angie stepped in front of me. She glanced down over the railing and grimaced, but quickly hid it as she looked up to face me again.
“Be careful, okay,” she said and pulled me into a hug. A bit shocked at the display of affection, I stiffened, but then hugged her back. For a moment I thought of the things that I wanted her to say to Ash, Mars, and even my family back home if I didn’t make it out of that zombie pit, but I figured she would know.
“Thanks,” I said instead. Angie released me, and I stepped forward, almost slamming into the railing at the heavy pat on my back. I gripped the iron bar and looked up the find Tom standing next to me.
“All in a day’s work,” he said as he attached the rope to the railing and threw the rest over the side. He steadied me as I climbed over the barrier and then checked the rope. “All clear.”
I glanced down although I had promised myself not to, and swallowed hard at the sight of what awaited me at the end of this rope.
“Just take it easy,” Tom said. “You’ll be fine.” I raised an eyebrow and grinned.
“You’re not getting soft on me, are you?” I asked playfully.
“If you want me to push you, I’ll gladly oblige,” he replied, but he couldn’t hide the kindness in his eyes.
“I’ll remember that,” I said and was ready to lower myself
as I heard commotion further down the balcony at the entry of the lounge.
“What do you think you’re doing?” a large man called out.
“Bob,” Preston said, quickly turning to the man and effectively cutting off his access to where the rest of us stood.
I heard Preston starting to explain our plan, but Bob seemed appalled by it.
“Are you people insane?” he said as he pointed an angry finger at Preston. “If you think we’ll let your subordinate up here again, then you are mistaken.”
“Please, Bob,” Preston said, “just give us a chance to prove to you what this serum can do.”
I watched as the men argued until Angie came up to me and squeezed my arm.
“Just go and don’t worry about big Bob,” she said. “If it comes to it, I’ll kick his ass.”
“And I’ll be standing right behind her to cheer her on,” Tom said.
Unable to help it, I chuckled. Bob was about my height, and I figured all four of us could fit inside him.
“Go slow, okay,” Angie added.
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied and stepped off the ledge.
Tom’s pace in lowering me down was agonizingly slow. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. This pace would probably keep me from arousing the zombies too much, but it also gave me time to think about what the hell I was doing. With every inch that Tom lowered me, I felt my nerves rise up.
I gazed up and saw the DC people watching me from the far left. Preston must have kept them at a distance so their scent wouldn’t rattle the zombies. Above me, Angie peered over the railing, her eyes dark and focused. Tom stood by her side, his muscles straining and his face tight from the effort of lowering me.
“Pull your legs in,” Angie said. Her voice was low, and I probably wouldn’t have heard her over the groans and moans of the zombies below my feet, but her words sounded clear over the radio stuck in my ear.
My head shot up to face her and then down to see that the tips of my toes had almost come within reach of the outstretched arms of a zombie. Movement must have caught its attention. Most of the others still bumped and grinded against each other, not giving any indication that they had noticed or smelled my presence. That was the point, though. That was one of the things Divus did besides protecting you from the Mortem virus and keeping you from turning into a zombie—it repelled them.
“Pull them up, and Tom will lower you some more. Then you can ease your legs down at your own discretion.”
The idea was sound, and I pulled my legs up as high as I could. The zombie that had raised his hands up groaned. I kept an eye on it as Tom lowered me again. Its irises swam behind a thick, milky fog. Eyes that seemed to track my movement otherwise looked abandoned and dead. The flesh on its cheeks was long gone, and I got a good look of its working jaw as it snapped its teeth. Its head started to sway a little before the zombie lifted its nose and sniffed. As if it had smelled something foul, it shuddered, lowering its arms and its gaze shifted down.
I took that as a cue to ease my legs down. A shudder similar to the one I had just seen ran through my body from the tips of my toes until it raised the hairs on my neck as the mutilated bodies bumped into my legs. Swallowing hard, I raised the bandana tied around my neck so it would cover my mouth and nose. Finally, I stuck a finger in the air to signal Tom to lower me the rest of the way.
I had stopped breathing by the time my feet touched the ground. The floor was slick, and I nearly slipped on something that felt soft and mushy underneath my boots, but I managed to steady myself on the rope that Tom had, thankfully, kept taut.
Eyes closed, I tried to find my bearings and forced myself to breathe. I needed air in my lungs if I wanted to do this. Bodies pressed into to me, and I wished I could banish the sensation of the decomposing corpses touching me.
“Mags,” Angie said in a tentative voice, “you still with us?” I nodded my head vigorously as if Angie could see. The bandana did nothing to hide the putrid smell, and it was as if the taste of death lingered inside the back of my mouth. My heart pounded inside my chest as my body trembled, and I couldn’t seem to get my eyes to open.
“Mags,” Angie said forcefully, “just breathe.” My eyes shot open at her loud voice, and I did as she demanded. I stared at the back of someone’s head. Hair had been ripped from the scalp, leaving it bald in certain places, but it was better than glancing into those milky eyes.
“I’m okay,” I said over the radio. “Just getting my bearings.” I tried to sound more confident than I felt, but I knew Angie would see straight through it.
Knowing that if I didn’t act soon, Tom would start to pull me up, I started to unhook my harness. From what I was seeing, I knew I’d have nightmares about this for the rest of my life, but if I didn’t do this, then someone else might have them too.
Immediately after the rope released, I eased forward. I kept my hands to my side as I maneuvered through the sea of bodies as if I were attending a rock concert or something. The motion felt the same, although navigating though the decaying, near-stationary corpses didn’t appeal as much as a bunch of people sweating and drinking beer. Still, I kept that thought in my head and even started thinking of songs to distract myself by remembering the lyrics. It seemed that the lyrics to “Sympathy for the Devil” were destined to run on repeat inside my head at that point. But it helped to focus as I tried to avoid looking at the faces in the crowd around me.
“You’re doing great,” Angie said over the radio. “Keep to your left.”
From overhead, Angie had a better grasp of the situation, and I needed her to guide me through this. For all I knew, I was walking around in circles.
It started to get harder to push through the bodies without disturbing the zombies too much. They all stood too close together, and once in a while, I needed to shove my way through. I was breathing hard, but it wasn’t so much out of fear than it was from the effort. The fear was still there, plenty of it, but every step seemed to cost more strength.
“How … far?” I asked between gasps.
“About sixty feet,” Angie replied. I tried to do the math as I pushed past another zombie. Its head snapped in my direction, teeth bared and jaw stretched open to its limit. Only one eye remained, leaving a black hole on the left side of its skull. I flinched as I saw something move inside it and jerked back. Tumbling backward, I collided with the zombies pressing at my rear. Some of them swirled around, flailing their arms, and I ducked. I ended up in a crouch facing the zombies at butt level. Their bodies started to crowd me, and I stretched my arms out to keep them at bay. Fortunately, the zombies directly crowding me all wore pants. Grimy, bloodied and disgusting pants in different sizes and shapes, but definitely pants. I heard Angie’s slightly frantic voice over the radio.
“Mags, Mags,” she called. “Where the hell did you go?” Before I could answer, she added, “You better get off your butt now so I can see you, or I swear to—”
“I’m here,” I said.
“Well, I still don’t see you.” On hands and knees, I pushed past the legs, desperately trying to ignore the substances that saturated my pants, and I felt an undying gratitude for the gloves covering my hands.
A little to my left I noticed a bright yellow color peek between the forest of legs and moved toward it.
“Sixty … feet?” I asked, panting harder than before.
“What about it?” Angie asked. I wriggled past the last few pairs of legs and grabbed a hold of the yellow panel that belonged to a forklift.
Pulling myself to my feet, I asked, “How far was that again?”
“Jeez, there you are,” Angie said, and I could hear the relief in her voice. “Well, it’s more like sixty-five now and that’s what”—she paused as if she were checking with someone—“about twenty meters. You know, you Europeans should think about losing your metric system.”
I climbed onto the forklift until I reached the roof of the cabin and sprawled on top of it with my legs dangling over the
side. My limbs burned from the effort, and my breathing came in ragged huffs as I stared up at the ceiling of the large building.
“Are you still alive up there?”
Angie’s voice slowly filtered in, but it took a second, for the words to translate. It seemed that the situation that I found myself in kept my brain from functioning properly. I threw up an arm and waved in a big arc before I gathered my strength and managed to sit up.
I blinked as I tried to focus, and I noticed Angie and the rest standing on the balcony as if suspended over the crowd of zombies milling around like ants. My gaze shifted, and just as Angie had said, the rack that towered over us stood only meters away. A grim, streaked face peeked out from beside a couple of cases, staring at me with wide eyes. The young woman looked terrified, so I raised a hand and waved. She eyed me warily for a moment before she raised a trembling hand and waved back.
| 18
Ash
“Hi,” I said as I raised a tentative hand. That must have adjusted their perceived threat level because all five of them lowered their weapons. I took the opportunity to glance around and found myself surrounded by tents—a lot of them.
Giant green tents that did not seem appropriate for a standard camping trip stood back to back. It looked like one of those refugee camps that the news used to show in places like Syria or somewhere in Africa. That thought rang a bell and reminded me of what Colonel Cornwell had talked about back at Cheyenne. He had mentioned these kinds of refugee camps. These places were meant for people who had fled across the Mississippi border to escape the zombie horde. He had even threatened to place me in one of those camps until Mars intervened and offered me a place with his parents. I bet he wished now that he hadn’t done that.
Ignoring the shiver that ran up my spine, I glanced right, noticed stands rising beyond the tents, and figured it to be a stadium—maybe soccer or football.