Dead Sector: Miami: The James' Strain

by Romero, Drake

  “You are not. You go out there and you die. The girl in the car, she is alive. I left her there to die, and if you go out there, you will be joining her in that fate.”

  He looks like he wants to argue, but he must realize I am right because he does not say anything. I take the time to look at the car. It is surrounded, but none of them have gotten in yet. They are pounding on the windows but none of them are reaching for the handle. The front of the building is completely covered with them, but most of them just keep running. Some are trying to get in the building and some are trying to get into the car, but the rest are sprinting crazy fast down the street. Many of them are wearing Heat jerseys. It occurs to me that none of them have stopped to eat the dead guy in the SUV.

  The glass does not crack but there is a slight bend inwards like they are going to push it out of its frame.

  “We have to go, now.” I do not wait for his response, but he is only a second or two behind me when I get in the elevator. The elevator is on the side of the building facing outward. It has a glass panel facing the street, so that you can see the city when you use it. And what I see is thousands of “people” on every street within view. It is like there is a parade. One big, terrible parade. There is fire and there is smoke. There are cars everywhere, all standing still. I see lights in other office buildings. We weren’t the only ones that decided to use these buildings as shelter. Danny is still trying his phone.

  The ride is longer than it should have been. I guess the theory of relatively applies to watching civilization end. When you want something to be quick, it takes forever. The elevator door opens and Anne is waiting.

  “Oh, I am so glad you two are okay. Phillip, what is going on down there? I can see them from the window, so I know they are everywhere, but did they get into the building?”

  “No, not yet. There are a bunch of them trying to get in, but they are not even trying the door. They are fast, but stupid, I think.” I say.

  “What about Remington’s car?”

  “Someone hit it. They died. By the time I got down there, it was too late-the car was gone and those things were everywhere.”

  “That is not your fault,” she says.

  “Where is Remington?” I ask.

  “He is in his office,” she says, “he got his inhaler and can breathe again.”

  We go to Remington’s office. He stares out of his corner office windows as the city burns. He has binoculars. We all stare for what seems like hours. We talk little and when we do it is stuff like “I can’t believe this is happening.” Danny keeps calling Sarah, but there is more space between each call. Anne cries some and offers to get everyone food from the kitchen. We all say no. Remington has a TV and the national news is still reporting what is happening as a terrorist attack. Social media is flooded with people saying that it is zombies. Most experts are saying that it is a biological attack that has caused mass hysteria. None of the news agencies say the word “zombie” on the first day.

  We sleep in Remington’s office that first night. I don’t even remember falling asleep, I just remember waking up with a start. Everyone else is still sleeping-Remington on the couch in his office and Anne and Danny on the floor like me. The sun is just beginning to rise. The TV is still on the news, but the footage does not look current. I head to the window, hoping that maybe somehow the streets are clear. They are not. The zombies are thick on the streets as far as the eye can see. The Miami metro area had more than 5 million people when the outbreak began. Five million people who with just a bite could turn and strengthen the horde. If they had moved slow, or if the transformation was not instantaneous, then maybe we would have had a chance. I watch their movement for a long moment. They are all still running forward at amazing speeds. The light allows me to notice something I did notice the evening before. The zombies are moving together, nearly synchronous like movement, like a flock of birds. When they reach an intersection, they either all run straight together or turn. If one turns, they all turn. It is mesmerizing. I also see that many of the buildings within eye view have been breached. The glass casing for the storefront windows and doors did not hold and zombies have poured into these openings. Many of the buildings are emitting smoke. I begin checking windows in the building right across the street. It is close enough that if anyone is doing what I am doing, I should be able to see them.

  After two minutes of scanning, I am ready to give up. But then I notice a man staring back at me. He is waving frantically. I begin to wave back to let him know I can see him. There is nothing either of us can do for either now, so I make a mental note to check on him later.

  Lightening hits my mind-the girl in the car. I have not checked on her all night. What if she is alive and still in the car? I locked the door after all. If the glass held and she stayed put, she might have made it. A loud noise takes me away from my concern for her. It is the sound of something falling and clanging on the ground.

  “What the fuck was that?” asks Anne. She sat bolt upright at the sound. Danny is just a second behind her.

  “Are they here?” he asks.

  Remington is slower to budge, and Anne has to actually shake him to wake him up. He looks disoriented at first, and then annoyed at being woken up. “Is anyone else in the building?” she asks him.

  “How the fuck should I know? I suggest you two new guys go look. I can stay here and protect Anne.”

  Danny begins to protest, but I put my finger to my mouth to silence him. Another noise echoes out and it is close. Something is just down the hallway. I look around for a weapon and find a golf club. Remington has one of those in office putting machines. I leave the office and take point and Danny follows behind me weaponless. I head as quietly as I can towards the sound. We turn a corner and I see the reason for the sounds before it sees it me. It is one of those things, and it is bent over. I hit it hard in the back before it can see me. I put all my weight into the swing and the thing goes flying. It also screams “what the hell?” It turns to lie on its back and raises it arms to protect itself. It is not a zombie but a man. I was so sure.

  “Oh shit man, I am … I am so sorry. I thought you were one of those things,” I say.

  “Why the hell did you think that?” says the man as he rises. He is an older, slender man. He has a slight beard and his hair is mostly gone. “I am the overnight janitor-Tom Covey-not one of those god damned monsters.”

  “Zombies,” I say.

  “Whatever you say. I was in the building when it all started and decided this was the safest place to be. I have been raiding offices with this-looking for a weapon. Gets me through pretty much every locked door. No luck yet.” He is holding up a security card with his face on it. But a younger version of him. I imagine he has had this job for a long time.

  “Are you alone?” asks Danny.

  “Yeah, normally I have at least two people helping me but neither showed up for their shifts. Frankly, I showed up an hour early so I could eat before getting started. Otherwise, I would be on the way here when it all happened. Is it just you two?”

  “No,” I say, “there are two others just down the hall. We barely made it here alive, but figured the building might be the best place to wait this out until …” I trail off because I don’t know how to end the sentence-I don’t know if we can wait this out because I don’t know if it will end. “Do you know if the building has been breached?” I ask.

  “Not as of an hour ago.”

  Chapter 3

  The Girl in the Car

  “Danny, take him back to the others. I have to go check on something downstairs.”

  The elevator ride again shows me the city in ruin. I try not to look. The door opens and I jump back expecting to be overwhelmed. Nothing comes and the lobby is still clear. I only look around the corner from the elevator banks to the front doors, not wanting to be seen by the zombies that are clustered at the front of the building. There aren’t any there. At some point in the night, they must have given up. They are still i
n the street, so I get low and crawl to the front and hide behind some fake plants to avoid being seen. I look at the car and I can see nothing. I am too low and there are too many zombies running by it. But then there is break in the zombies and I see eyes peeking ever so slightly from the car window. She does not see me, so I take a chance and stand up. Her eyes widen and she sees me. She waves and I can tell she is about to open the door when she drops out of view. I follow suit and hide again behind the plant. The zombies are again in force in front of the building. I use the time to find paper and a black magic marker at the security desk. I crawl back and write three words. Ten minutes goes by before there is a lull in zombies again, and before I can see the girl again. When I can see her, I hold up the paper and she sees the message- “Next Break-RUN.”

  It is almost exactly ten minutes again when that break occurs. I stand by the door, frantically waving her in. She looks around, and after hesitating for just a second or two, she steps out of the car. She is wearing last night’s dress- a dress made for a night of clubbing. She is not running fast enough and stumbles twice before I decide to help her. I prop open the door with the plant, set down the golf club, and run to her. She falls into my arms as I reach her and I turn to run back to the building. She collapses and I am basically carrying her. She screams and I turn my head in the direction she is looking. The thirty second window we had is almost up and the zombies are barreling towards us. Her scream alerts them and they begin running even faster towards us. I run even faster than I would have thought possible while dragging a person and we make it through the door-falling inward. I kick the plant out of the building and kick the door shut with both feet, but not before the first zombie gets his hand through the opening. His bones crunch under the weight of the door and my feet, but he does not withdraw at all. I can see his face. He is a young guy, probably a teenager. He is wearing typical emo clothes-all dark. His fingernails look painted black and he has a nose and lip ring. He probably weighs less than the girl I just saved and she is small. I kick his hand directly and he falls back. The door shuts and seconds later the zombies are again flinging themselves against the glass storefront. “Elevator,” I scream as I pick up my golf club. I do not plan on sticking around to see if the door holds.

  She is heading towards the elevators, but still cannot move quickly. I put her arm around my neck and we pick up the pace. An elevator is open already and I quickly put in the code. It does not work. “Zero five four six” I think and enter it again. It fails a second time. A crash comes from the front. The storefront window has given way. The screams or moans or whatever the hell they are doing reach the elevator. They will be just seconds behind these sounds. My brain wakes up and I enter 0456. The code is right and the door begins to close. It finishes before any of them make it to us, but I see one running down the hallway towards our elevator just as it does.

  “Hi, I am Phillip,” I say to the girl.

  “Katrina,” she manages before nearly fainting. I take hold of her again and choose not to look out the window on the way up. I know what I will see. The elevator opens and Anne, Danny, and Tom are waiting for us. They help me carry Katrina to Remington’s office. He is on his couch but gets up.

  “Who is this?” he asks, “and how do we know she is not one of those things.”

  “This is Katrina. She spent the night locked in a wrecked car. I tried to save her yesterday, but couldn’t. We know she is not one of those things because she is not trying to bite us.”

  “We heard something Phillip. Did the zombies get in the building?” asks Anne.

  I look down, but there is no point in hiding it. “Yes, I think they broke down the glass at the entrance. We barely made it into the elevator.”

  “So you risked all of our lives and let those things in the building for one girl? Glad I didn’t get the chance to hire you kid-your analysis of the situation is lacking. Five is bigger than one, right?” says Remington.

  “So I should have just left her there to die?”

  “No Phillip, ignore him. You did the right thing, but won’t the zombies be able to make it up to this floor eventually?” asks Anne.

  “I don’t think so,” I say.

  “The elevator requires a code to use, right?” asks Danny.

  “Right,” I say.

  “And what about the stairs?” asks Remington.

  “The doors should be locked,” I say.

  “That is only part right,” says Tom, “the bottom door to the stairs does not lock. If they try it, they will at least be able to get into the stairwell.”

  “We’ll be stuck on this floor then . . .” says Anne.

  “That could be bad. We might need access to the other floors for supplies, like food. Maybe we can brace it shut?” I say.

  That might just work,” says Katrina, “the whole night, not one of them tried the car door handle. Plenty of them threw themselves against the windows, but that was it.”

  “The door is probably still closed then. We should act fast before one of them gets lucky,” says Tom.

  “Agreed. I say we grab a desk or a bookshelf out of one of these other offices. It is a long way down, so let’s hurry,” I say. Remington protests as Tom, Danny, and I leave. We find a heavy bookshelf in one of the offices and slide it to the stair well. Anne follows, leaving Katrina with Remington.

  “I will stand by the door and open it as soon as you get back,” she reaches for the door.

  “Stop,” says Danny, “what if they are already in there. Open it slowly.”

  I grip the golf club and Anne slowly opens the door. Nothing jumps out. I again take point, peaking my head into the stairwell. There is nothing there. I look down as far as I can and see no movement. “Looks good. Let’s do this quick,” I say. We carry the bookshelf down the stairs as quietly as we can. No one talks. It is heavy, but with three of us, we are down to the third floor in just a couple of minutes. We hear the zombies from here. They are loud and there are a lot of them, but I think the sounds are coming from the lobby. I am walking backwards, Tom is in the middle, and Danny is at the top of the book shelf. I motion to set the book shelf down. “I need to check the door,” I say as low as I can. I walk down the stairs by myself, golf club raised, and think I am ready to handle the situation if they made it through. From the second flight of stairs I can see the first floor door. It looks closed and I am relieved. But then I see it. A sole zombie trying to get out of the stair well. It looks like a middle age woman in her pajamas. Her hair is in curlers. It is trying to get into the lobby to the other zombies. It must have got in here on accident and the door shut behind it. But it is not trying to make its way up. This must have something to do with the whole “flock of birds” thing.

  It does not see me and I have to decide whether we flee back to the 20th floor or press on. I decide to go back to Tom and Danny to tell them what I have seen. I trip on the lip of a stair and the golf club falls to the ground, making a metallic sound loud enough to ring through the whole stairwell. I am on my feet and holding the golf club. The zombie is running straight at me. When she was turned, she must have been bit on the face because half of her cheek is missing. In its place is just one blood and puss socked wound. I focus on this for too long, and the zombie has grabbed my shoulders before I could swing at. Shit. I push back hard but its grip is iron. It does not let go. I nearly trip down the stairs, and decide to take a different approach. I force the golf club into its mouth and swing it into the wall behind me using its monument against it. This makes it let go and it lies on the ground before me. I swing the golf club sledge hammer style into its head and the golf club breaks in two. The zombie does not stay down and is up amazingly quick. I hit it across the face with the rod portion and although blood goes flying, it does not slow down. I remember every zombie movie I have ever watched, and I hold the golf club (now a sword) at its eye level as it runs at me. It does not know to move out of the way and runs itself through at its left eye. It makes a squishing sound as it
goes in. It drops, taking my golf club with it.

  I am pretty sure it is dead. By all rights it should be. And I have been all about calling these things “zombies,” but I don’t really know how they actually work. I pull out my golf club slowly, ready to attack it again if necessary. But it does not move. The club is covered in blood for the first six inches, and I decide against keeping it. I lodge it in the door handle and turn to seek Tom and Danny. They see the zombie and I silence them by holding my hand up. We get the book shelf and wedge it against the metal door wall. It almost fits, but not completely. It should keep the door from opening. The zombie, we just leave her there to rot.

  We head up the stairs, with Danny in the lead. I am tired, and in shock from killing someone. It is not like you see on TV; it still feels like taking a human life. We turn the corner from the 18th floor and two zombies stand at the top of the stairs to the 21st floor. Danny screams in terror and the zombies immediately begin running toward us. “We have to move,” says Tom, and we do. We reach the landing to the door at the same time as these two zombies. One of them can’t be older than 14 and she wears braces. The other is, was, a guy in a suit with his tie loosened from a long night’s work. They are on Danny before Tom and I can react. The girl has Danny’s left arm in her mouth as Danny tries to stiff arm her approach. She pulls back and goes in for another bite. The man in the suit gets Danny’s throat and takes out a large chunk. Blood pours over the stairs. Danny is screaming in pain and shock, but he still has the wherewithal to grab them both and fling himself down the stairs. Tom and I press against the wall to avoid them. I hear them thud on the landing. Tom yells for Anne to open the door and she does so immediately.

  “What was that?” she asks. Tom pushes her inside and I follow behind. I am the last through and close the door as Danny, the girl, and the man in the suit sprint up the stairs. I see Danny’s face before the door shuts. Danny is no longer there… he is one of them now.