El Paso Under Attack - 01

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El Paso Under Attack - 01 Page 16

by Michael Clary


  We got a little lost in the maze of hallways. It was really a matter of guess work to find the alley exit. It took some time, I have no idea how long it took, but I was getting anxious. Some of the doors that we ran past were open. It’s never fun running past an open door in a dark hallway. Something could come jumping out at you.

  “I take it that you speak from experience?”

  Most certainly.

  Finally, we found the exit. The rain was still making an obnoxious amount of noise. There was a fire alarm connected to the door. Not good.

  “If you open that door, the alarm will go off,” warned Gerald as if I didn’t know that was a possibility.

  “I don’t think there’s any power to this building.” I answered. “Look at all the dirt and dust. I think this place has been closed for awhile. Even the front door was boarded from the inside when I kicked it down.”

  “All that could have happened before the first wave of zombies came through.”

  “If that were true, where are the people that boarded the door?” I asked. “Never mind, I don’t want an answer.”

  I really didn’t want to hear Gerald tell me that the place could have been crowded with zombies, with all of them just waiting to pounce on us. It was time to make a move and as I pushed open the door, I was secretly wishing that I’d paid more attention to the inside of the hotel so that I could be sure it had truly been an abandoned building.

  We were lucky. No alarm had sounded. The rain outside was pouring. The alleyway was narrow, barely enough space to drive a vehicle through. I was trying to blink the rain out of my eyes and locate a way into the McDonalds when the first zombie tackled me to the floor.

  Merrick was attacking immediately, but it paid her no attention. Gerald seemed to have stumbled with my fall and he was now trying to pull away. His efforts were wrenching my arm that was connected to the handcuffs and keeping me off balance. I could barely keep the zombie from my throat. I could hear the sound of splashing feet from farther down the alley. More of the dead were coming.

  Idiot Gerald wasn’t even trying to help me. Finally, Merrick grabbed the back of the zombies head and began to shake. Her efforts rag dolled the dead guy and I was free. The zombie was fighting to get its head loose, but Merrick was shaking him so fiercely all over the alley, he couldn’t get a firm grip on her jaws.

  My tomahawk had come away from my hand when I fell. I couldn’t find it in the dark pools of water formed by the rain. The zombies I heard earlier were almost upon us, I could count at least five. Gerald was grabbing at the pistol on my belt as I searched the shadow covered, wet ground for my tomahawk.

  “No you idiot,” I said. “Others will hear the gunshots.”

  Finally, I felt the wooden handle. It was safe in my hand and I stood against the pouring rain just as my undead attackers bore down upon me.

  The first one was easy enough to take out. As it reached for me, I sent the blade of the tomahawk into its forehead, destroying the brain. After that I slammed the panicking Gerald against the brick wall of the motel and ducked under the swinging arms of another zombie. I gave it a push kick to get some distance and chopped it in the neck. It went down with a wet gurgling noise.

  The remaining three were trying to surround us.

  “Don’t get bit.” I snarled at Gerald.

  They rushed at the same time. Two ran at Gerald and one ran for me.

  My attacker ducked under my wild swing and I had to do a weird turn and crack it in the back of the head. It worked, barely, but it worked.

  Gerald was on the ground. He was holding one zombie away from his throat, while the other zombie was savaging him at the knee. Suddenly, Merrick was on top of the zombie at his knee. Again, she had the corpse by the back of the head and began shaking. I was free to dispatch the one at Gerald’s throat. I then followed with another swing to the zombie being shaken by Merrick. The fight was over. I slammed the tomahawk into a fallen zombie that was still twitching just to be on the safe side.

  I turned my head over to Gerald who was just now getting to his feet. I raised the tomahawk into the air.

  “No, no…wait a minute.” Gerald screamed in a panic. “I’m not bit. Look and see, I haven’t been bitten.”

  He was right of course. He had hard plastic knee pads under his green fatigues. The knee pads were now scratched up with teeth marks. I couldn’t see any blood, so I lowered my weapon.

  “I thought you were Special Forces.” I growled at him.

  “I was, back in Nam.”

  “Then why the hell are you such a pussy?” I demanded.

  “These are dead people that are trying to eat me.” He shouted back. “Excuse me if I’m a little freaked out.”

  “You either defend yourself, or you are going to die out here.”

  “Then give me a weapon.”

  I’m not really sure I liked this idea. He could easily use any weapon I gave him on me the moment my back was turned.

  “So what did you do?”

  I took a large bowie knife from my backpack and handed it over to him.

  “So you decided to trust him?”

  I’m not sure that trust is the right word. I just knew that if I left him unarmed, he was a liability and I didn’t want him wrenching my arm out of socket again. I also believed that he had a pretty large desire to live and that would be greatly diminished without me.

  We went over to the McDonalds. The back door was metal. If I broke it down, it would make one hell of a noise. Even with the rain pouring, it would be too loud. We opted to break a window instead.

  We did it intelligently; we stood there in the soaking wet and waited for the next boom of thunder. When it cracked across the sky and the lightning arched, I swung my tomahawk. The window exploded.

  “Off subject…would you say that the tomahawk is your weapon of choice?”

  Ya know…I never really even thought about it. I guess it deals the most damage to the enemy and in my case, the enemy happens to be zombies that need a damaged brain to stay down. However, I’m probably more partial to knives; it’s just more difficult to deal the massive amounts of damage with them…especially against multiple attackers.

  “If you had to choose?”

  I’d choose both in a combination slash and hack. It would throw out a lot of damage, especially against more than one zombie…so both of them.

  “I only ask, because my nephew wanted to know. He and his friend were arguing about it. I think they each had pictures of you with both weapons.”

  He laughs at this. I can’t tell if it’s because he’s comfortable being a superstar for young boys everywhere or because he’s uncomfortable with his status.

  Where were we? Oh yeah, we climbed in the window. It wasn’t exactly easy; we had to be mindful of the large glass shards around the opening. We certainly didn’t want to put the smell of blood in the air, even with the rain.

  I also left Merrick in the alley. I didn’t want her getting cut and it wasn’t like the zombies had any appetite for dogs.

  The McDonalds was dark. I was wondering why Mr. green beret didn’t have any night vision goggles. It wasn’t like we could use the flashlight here. I’m sure everyone has been to a McDonalds. The restaurants are covered with large windows. If we used a flashlight, we’d have every zombie outside those windows licking their chops and looking for a way in.

  Did I mention how eerie it was looking out those windows at the zombies that were milling around? They didn’t seem to mind the pouring rain at all and the street lights outside were casting them in a weird yellow glow that would have been right at home in a horror film. Every now and then one of them would moan that hungry sound of theirs and another would answer. It would chill the bones.

  The explosives were in the restroom. They were in a large crate that would take at least two men to carry. There was some sort of receiver on the top of the crate. I was guessing that Martins team put the explosives in the restroom to keep away from the windows. They’
d be able to use the flashlights that way, just like we were.

  I shined the light and Gerald went to work on the receiver. He had it disarmed in just a few seconds.

  “That’s it?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I just have to disconnect a couple wires.”

  “I’m thinking of some way to threaten you,” I responded.

  “I made it look too easy?” He asked.

  “Sounds about right.”

  “Too bad, it was easy. I helped set these things up.”

  “Then you’re an asshole. You’d solve the problem with the lives of hundreds of innocent people. How’s that make you feel?”

  It really bothered me that they were so willing to blow up all these people.

  “I think it sucks, but this outbreak is huge. The government isn’t going to let these people out. The borders of this city will remain closed until every single zombie is destroyed. The risk in spreading the infection is too high.”

  A moan came from the street. I cracked the restroom door and took a look outside. It sounded a little loud for my comfort level. Gerald chose this moment to make his move.

  He rushed the door and slammed my head between it and the wall. It hurt like hell. My head was spinning all over the place. I’m actually surprised he didn’t knock me right out.

  He followed this attack up with a neat little kick to my groin with his combat boots. I dropped to my knees. At this point, I was wishing that he had knocked me out.

  “You just don’t wanna go down do you?” He asked.

  The man had moves. His training was good. He knew how to hurt and he knew how to use his environment.

  He tried to bring the butt of the knife I’d lent him down on the back of my head to finish me off, but I caught it with my free hand (we were still handcuffed). I guess I have moves as well.

  I shoved his free hand away and punched him in the gut as hard as I could. I heard the air go out of him, but he wasn’t finished. His knee came out and caught me on the temple. I picked him off the floor and slammed his back on the sink.

  I was shocked as all hell when he still tried to come after me. I wrapped his handcuffed arm in mine and broke it at the elbow. He began to scream.

  I clamped my right hand over his mouth.

  “Shut the hell up.” I snarled. He answered this by trying to stab me with his knife. I jerked out of the way of the blade, but he began to pull me back with his broken arm. His good arm was swinging the blade in a wild pattern, just trying to cut into me. I couldn’t escape, so I attacked. I grabbed his good arm and rolled on top of the man. We both struggled and in the end, the bowie knife landed between his ribs and kissed his heart.

  I had killed a man.

  I didn’t like that at all. It wasn’t right. I had no choice, but it wasn’t right. I pulled the knife out, cleaned it off, put it back in its sheath and replaced it in my backpack.

  I had killed a man.

  I had killed a man.

  I had killed a man.

  I heard banging on the windows. The zombies had heard us. They wanted in.

  Quickly, I shined the flashlight on the explosives. I memorized which wires Gerald had unplugged and then I left the restroom. I was zooming down the hallway away from the restrooms and entering the main area of the restaurant when I saw the windows. They were swarmed by zombies.

  So many faces pressed against the glass. So many hands cupped around the eyes for a better view as if they could still think and function as well as they did when they were alive. So many hands were pounding on the glass that cracks were forming. It just wasn’t made for that kind of abuse.

  I had seconds before they’d get smart enough to surround the building. I ran to my broken window and dove right through it. I was amazed that I cleared it so easily, but there I was, coming out of the dive in a nifty little roll in the rain soaked alley.

  Merrick was happy to see me. The pouring rain refreshed me immediately. If I was bleeding at all from having my head smashed between the door and the wall, I wasn’t anymore. I felt pretty damn good as a matter of fact.

  I was back up and moving just as I heard the crunching of feet on the dirty gravel at the end of the alley. I hurriedly ducked inside the still open door of the hotel and locked it behind me. Merrick was excited. I think she was having a good time. Things must be easier when the zombies have no interest in eating you.

  In less than a second, the walking dead were banging to get in.

  Fuck it, I just had to get through the building and make it to the Jeep and I’d be safe.

  This was easier said than done. I got lost almost immediately.

  There were too many winding turns and too many dead ends. This sucked royally. I zigged and I zagged. Finally I came to the stairway that led to the upper levels. I was about to turn around and retrace my steps when I heard a crash and the screams of undead. They must have broken through the door. This was bad. They’d be able to sniff me out rapidly and I was lost in the hotel labyrinth with a horrible sense of direction.

  Well, since they weren’t that far behind me…I took the stairs. If I could lead them up, then maybe I could lose them on the upper floors, while I made my way back down. It may have been wishful thinking, but I had no time for other options.

  “Is your sense of direction really that bad?”

  Bad is an understatement.

  I took a chance and peered over the railing when I was about 5 floors up. There I was, leaning over the railing and looking down at the ground floor just as one wet and decaying face decided to take an upwards peek right at the same time.

  It was another one of those he froze/I froze moments and then I ran like hell. I mean, I really poured it on. I used everything I had. When Merrick had problems keeping up, I hoisted her up in my arms and moved even faster.

  The stairwell became a blur. When I reached the 12th floor I exited the stairwell and set Merrick back down on her feet. I immediately picked a direction and ran down the hallway. This time I was hoping to find another stairwell.

  What I found was even weirder.

  There was a flickering light at the end of the hallway. I was walking cautiously towards the light when I saw the debris in an adjoining hall. In the middle of all the debris were cans of gasoline. I ran to the cans of gasoline and checked them. There were four in total and all were about half full. The debris next surrounding them consisted of couches, box springs and even a few mattresses.

  I ran back to the stairwell and gave a listen, the zombies were still coming, but they were still some floors down. I guess they had some slower moving corpses in the front of the pack that were holding the faster ones up. Either that or I really hauled some ass. Not important, I propped open the door, loaded up a couple of sofas with the surrounding trash and pushed.

  When I reached the stairwell, I pushed all the trash down the first flight of stairs. Then, I went back for more flammable trash. I repeated the earlier procedure and doused it all with the gasoline.

  I was rummaging through my backpack for matches when the zombies arrived. They were trying to shove the debris out of their way and get to me, but I had loaded up so much junk at the bottom of the first flight of stairs leading down, that it was all pretty much jammed in and successfully blocking their way.

  Some of them decided to climb over. I reached out immediately and grabbed the first one over and flung him down the entire stairwell. I took a few seconds and I heard the wet splat of his body as it hit the ground over the screams of all the zombies reaching for me through my barricade.

  “This is one of those stairwells that have the winding stairs with an open center?”

  Exactly, that’s how I was able to look over earlier and see if they were following me.

  “I gotcha, could you see how many zombies were blocked behind the barricade?”

  I was trying really hard not to…but yeah. There were a lot, maybe a hundred…maybe even more.

  And now there were too many climbing over the barricade for me to
stop them. I made a last frantic search in a side pocket of my backpack and found the matches just as another zombie was reaching out for me.

  I struck the zombie in the face and then I struck the match…it broke. I was too frantic. I tried it again, just as the same zombie reached out for me once more. I lit the match, and then I lit the barricade.

  It caught in a loud ‘whoosh’. I had to jump back, away from the sudden heat. The zombies on top of the barricade jumped and twisted their way off the fire. At least two of them fell off the stairwell and slapped the ground floor.

  I took a moment to relax. That one had been way too close. They were all staring at me, but none of them dared to cross through the flames. Some reached out, but the heat made them instantly pull their arms back. They screamed their rage out towards me until I was forced to leave the stairwell. It didn’t take me very long either, zombies can be pretty loud. I went back two more times and filled the stairwell all the way up to the door with trash and waited a brief moment before it all went up in flames.

  I slammed the old metal door with a satisfied grunt and then I even threw more debris in front of the door for when the fire went out.

  Merrick was looking at me as if I’d gone insane.

  Oh well, at least we were going to be safe for awhile.

  “Weren’t you worried about the hotel catching fire?”

  I was fortunate, like most of the stairs I’ve seen in hotels and buildings with multiple floors, this one was also made of metal and brick. Not things that you have to worry about catching fire.

  “What happened with that flickering light that you saw?”

  I was just getting to that. Now that I was free and clear to investigate my surroundings and find a way out. My first thought was that flickering light. It should have been to find another stairwell, but the curiosity was just too much for me and yes, I know the saying.

 

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