This Rotten World (Book 3): No More Heroes

by Jacy Morris

  Epps was the first one there. He yanked on the Annie's fingers, but Whiteside was in a true death grip. Epps gave up and said, "This is going to hurt."

  He kicked at the Annies hands, connecting with Whiteside's face in the process. By the second kick, Whiteside was unconscious, but Epps had managed to break the dead Annie's grip around his throat.

  "Check his pulse," Tejada yelled.

  Brown and Epps squatted next to Whiteside as they rolled him onto his back. "He's still breathing," Epps said.

  "Thank god for that," Tejada said. "Alright, Epps, Brown, take Whiteside inside. Everyone else take a breather."

  Walt walked over to the pile of possessions they had found on the dead. He plucked the pack of cigarettes from the pile, and Amanda said, "What are you doing?"

  "It's for Whiteside, when he wakes up. I owe him some anyway." Amanda nodded.

  They waited in silence, the reality of their situation suddenly striking home. When Brown and Epps returned, Tejada gathered everyone around him and made sure they drank some water and rested their bodies.

  "I just want to remind you guys that we're not playin' around out here. One stumble, one trip, and it could be over for you. Whiteside almost found that out. Don't ever get comfortable with these things. When you think you know it all, when you think you got it all figured out, that's when you die. You understand?"

  "Yes, sir," came the chorus.

  "Now, we've got a couple more on the ground floor to take care of, and then it's time to sweep and clear. We find any keys on the one's we killed?" Tejada asked.

  "Plenty of keys, but I'm not sure which ones will open the armory," Allen said.

  "Well, we'll worry about that when the time comes. Let's divide up our ammo, we're going to do this place one floor at a time. I don't even want a closet left unturned. You see a toilet bowl with the lid down, you flip that fucker up. I don't want someone going to take a shit and getting their ass bit."

  They laughed at this, and Tejada took the opportunity to drive his point home. "You think I'm joking. I am not fucking joking. Take this seriously people."

  They nodded and then took their positions again. Rudy pulled the door open, and an Annie came stumbling out. As Gregg lured it down the steps, Walt bashed its brains in with his bowling ball. Amanda and Allen dragged it out of the way, and Rudy let the last visible Annie out. The process continued, without incident, and then, when the last two Annies were smoldering on the pile, the soldiers checked and rechecked that their rifles and sidearms were locked and loaded.

  "Let's go see what Santa brought us," Tejada said. The soldiers entered the security building. Rudy and Amanda stood outside waiting apprehensively, trying to not make eye contact with the Nike people who stood on the campus lawn, watching all of the proceedings.

  ****

  Epps stepped into the foyer of the building. The floor was cold concrete, rough so that you could see individual stones. He broke to his left, heading for the west wing of the building. Masterson and Gregg clung tight to him, covering his back and sides. He pushed open a door handle, and the door swung inward. Nothing pushed back, which was a good sign. He stepped into a room full of cubicles. Computers sat dark and unused. He spotted a monitor with a bullet hole in it. Blood smeared the floors and the walls.

  "This place must have been a slaughterhouse," he whispered. He stepped inside, and they cleared each cubicle, popping into each opening set in the five-foot high walls. The paneled ceiling above was splattered with dried gore. The smell of death hung in the office, and they knew something dead was there. Whether it was mobile or not was the real question.

  He found nothing in the first cubicle, but in the second, he found a man dressed in a black security uniform. His legs had been separated from the upper half of his body. The upper half was still functional, and Epps put a round in his skull without thinking twice. The gunshot brought movement from other cubicles, and Epps watched as heads popped up over the cubicle walls. They took their time lining up shots, and when they were done, there were four more bodies to add to the pile. Their gun smoke clung to the air, and they pushed through the office making sure no more crawlers were left. That was what Masterson had called the half-man; it was as good a name as any.

  They looked under desks and behind chairs. They pulled weapons free from bodies and slung them over their shoulders, thankful for the additional rounds. Epps preferred to use his own weapon, but if he ran out of ammo, which he would with two pulls of the trigger, he wanted something to fall back on besides his dick.

  When they were sure that the office was clear, they moved back to the first floor foyer, being just as careful as when they had come into the place. In the foyer, Masterson stood guard at the staircase. If anything came down those steps, Masterson would vent their heads. Gregg watched the office doors, and Epps waited until the other groups returned from sweeping the other part of the ground floor.

  It took a while, but after a few gunshots, they came back grimfaced and holding more weapons. Tejada gestured to Epps, and they knew that the rest of the floor was clear. With Masterson in the lead, they pushed up to the second of three floors.

  The second floor was where the important people worked. Here there were nameplates bolted to the walls. Each office had its own door. This would make things both safer and more difficult. While the odds that the dead would come swarming out of the offices were low, each office offered its own surprise, especially since the lights were off in most of them.

  Epps switched on the flashlight attached to the end of his rifle as they approached the first such door. He gave Gregg the signal, and he threw the door open. Epps shined his flashlight into the murk, but there was nothing there as far as he could tell. The spring-loaded door began to shut on its own.

  "Get the lights," Epps said.

  Gregg reached in and flipped on the lights. They saw a regular office, untouched, normal, no signs of violence.

  "Let's get the next one," Epps said. This time they rotated positions. It was Epps' turn to throw open the door while Masterson and Gregg waited with their flashlights. Just as he reached for the door handle, he heard a gunshot. It caused him to flinch. Masterson leaned back into the hallway and looked to see if there was any trouble. He gave Epps the thumbs up, and he turned his attention back to the door just in time to see an Annie's face pressed up against the rectangular glass window. Gregg fired off a shot immediately, and Epps felt it whistle by his head.

  The glass shattered, and the face of the Annie disappeared. "You fucking, halfwit. You could have killed me," Epps hissed.

  Gregg said nothing. He knew he was in the wrong.

  "Is it dead?" Masterson asked.

  "I don't know. I was too busy having my life flash in front of my eyes." Epps depressed the door handle and tried to push inward, but a rotten arm burst through the shattered glass of the door's window and grabbed Epps' arm. It squeezed with great pressure, and Epps lowered his shoulder into the door, slamming it backwards as hard as he could. He felt some resistance, and then whatever was on the other side bashed into the wall. Epps and the door rebounded off the creature and it finally released its grip on his arm. Epps fell to the ground and scrambled backwards. The door slowly closed on its own.

  "Fuck," he muttered, his heart fluttering in his chest. "Shine those lights on there."

  Masterson and Gregg painted the black rectangular square with their lights as Epps edged closer to the door. His forearm throbbed from the Annie's attack, but the skin wasn't broken. Something fiddled with the door handle. "Here, Annie, Annie." He continued calling the dead thing until an arm shot out of the window. He grabbed the arm and sunk to the ground with it until the Annie's face was framed against the window. "Get it," he said as he struggled to hold onto the dead arm. Its flesh was cold and clammy and covered in a slick layer of something that could only be described as rot.

  Masterson lined up the shot, and the round punched through the Annie's head. The creature's arms spasmed in Epps' hands
, and then the Annie fell away, thumping to the ground on the other side of the door. Epps got to his feet, wiping his hands on his fatigues. He pushed open the door, still being careful, still following protocol, Sergeant Tejada's warnings about being careful ringing in his ears. He flipped the light switch, and the florescent lights came on.

  In the corner, another body sat slumped on the ground, a handgun in its hands. Its face was unrecognizable, and Epps couldn't tell if the body belonged to a man or a woman. Flies buzzed in the room and maggots crawled across the corpse. The smell was awful. They could come back and check the bodies later. This room was clear.

  They continued clearing out the offices, finding only two more bodies, and no more Annies. They rendezvoused with the other soldiers, and then it was time to tackle the third floor. Epps would be glad when this was all over. His nerves were getting to the point of being shot. This was the time when mistakes were made. He shook his head and told Masterson and Gregg to take a breather, while he guarded the staircase. He didn't want their fatigue leading to their demise or his for that matter.

  When everyone had caught their breath, they climbed the stairs to the third floor, hoping that this was where the armory was. As they reached the landing, Epps could barely hide his disgust. Bodies lay in beds, chewed to nothing. The entire third floor had been converted to a bunkhouse with about as much privacy as you'd see in an old prison movie.

  Twenty double-decker bunks lined the walls. The smell was dreadful, and Epps reached into his pocket to grab a bandana to tie over his face. Once it was in place, it barely helped. The smell was still so strong that it penetrated his makeshift mask. They pushed forward, but Epps could make neither heads nor tails of the carnage he saw. Body parts lay strewn about like a child's play things left out at the end of the day. He couldn't tell what piece went with what body. The soldiers stepped through the mess, none of them making a single noise. They trampled through dried blood puddles because there was no other way to move through the makeshift dormitory. The carnage was so brutal that many of the security guards hadn't even come back to life. He didn't know if they were lucky on that account or not.

  Across the way, he saw Tejada stop at a door set into a back wall. Tejada waved at Epps, and he approached the door yet again, hating that he had been nominated for this duty once more. It was much better to be the person taking aim with a gun than to be the door-opener he had decided. He grasped a silver doorknob and made eye contact with Tejada. Tejada nodded, and Epps threw the door open. The lights were still on in this room.

  At first, Epps thought the room was clear. As he stepped into the room, he realized they were in an armory. Beautiful guns of all sizes and shapes sat like shadows on racks, their black stocks and barrels pristine and new. Then Epps noticed the blood on the floor as Gregg and Masterson followed him into the room.

  From behind a counter in the center of the room, a shape rose up. It was fresher than the other dead, its body not nearly as gone to rot. It showed little damage, but for a small wound on its hand. It stumbled towards Epps, and Epps raised his rifle to his eye, aimed, fired, and watched as the man fell to the ground, his jaw crashing into the counter on its way to the ground.

  "Clear!" Epps yelled, hoping that today's nightmare was almost at an end. He thought perhaps he would need something extra to sleep tonight. It was becoming tougher and tougher for Epps to try and catch some good shut eye. He was reminded of when he used to go rock climbing with his friends. On one particular day, he had been halfway up a cliff face, when he had stopped on a ledge to plan his next move. His leg, so filled with tension for the last half-hour had started bouncing back and forth uncontrollably. Climbers called it sewing machine leg. His whole boy felt like that these days. He had been tense for so long, seen so many terrors, that he didn't know how much more his body could physically take. He jumped as Tejada slapped him on the shoulder.

  "Looks like we found the armory," Tejada said smiling. "Maybe we can get the fuck out of this place after all."

  "Sir?" Epps asked.

  Tejada looked at him, one eyebrow cocked.

  "You're not planning on abandoning these people, are you, sir?"

  "It's not abandoning if you never joined them in the first place," Tejada said in reply.

  Epps just kept quiet. It was not the way that Epps thought about the situation, but he owed the Sergeant that one. Who could ever question the guy? Certainly no one in this building.

  "Get a load of this," Gregg said.

  They moved to the other side of the counter. On the ground, there were empty food wrappers and water bottles scattered about. Old bandages lay crumpled on the floor along with an empty bottle of antiseptic. A gray Moleskin journal lay on the floor, a couple of bloody fingerprints marring its cover. Tejada bent down to pick it up. He flipped the cover open and read the first page, his lips moving as he read.

  Tejada closed the cover and then said, "Burn the bodies, keep two guards on the front door. You see that Harper fucker coming your way, put a bullet in his head. That asshole's not getting shit from here, and neither is anyone else."

  "Yes, sir," Epps said. He picked out Allen and volunteered himself for guard duty. He wanted to be out of the building anyway.

  Tejada removed himself to another room to read the journal. The first words sent a chill up his spine.

  ****

  I left them there sitting at home, my family... the money was too good. I thought by leaving Sue and the kids with my brother Bobby, they would be safe, and once this whole thing blew over, we'd be rich. But this thing isn't blowing over.

  We finished getting the wall up today, and just in time. Martial law has been declared, but we haven't seen anyone from the army for a couple of days now. The skies are clear, no more airplanes, no more helicopters. In the first week, we saw several small prop planes fleeing from the city, now there are only birds in the sky. They don't sing like they used to. They sit silently in the trees, watching and waiting. Gives me the fucking creeps.

  ****

  June 16th

  The dead are at the walls right now. They press themselves against it as if they know there is food on the other side. I don't know how they know. Everyone is silent. When people talk, they do it in whispers.

  There are too many people here, and my men are nervous. Maybe Sue and the kids are better off with Bobby out there. This place is like a powder keg. You can feel the tension. The employees here look at me with fear in their eyes. They are afraid of my gun, all of our guns. I bet before this, the closest any of these college-educated liberals had been to a gun was on the TV.

  The CEO is assuring me that they'll get used to us, but what the fuck does he know? What the fuck do any of us know?

  The men want to clear the walls, but I think it's better to save our ammo for when we need it. We're safe in here. Based upon what's happening on the news, that's a rare thing.

  ****

  June 17th

  We had to shoot some people today. A couple people tried to climb the walls. Nike said they had to die. I would have been happy to let them in, but he made a good point. We didn't know if they were infected or not. The men that killed them are shaken.

  Most of these guys are tough, experienced, but they've never been in a position to kill Americans, especially not Americans just looking for a safe place to survive. I have to admit I'm not looking forward to sleep tonight. I expect nightmares. The guilt I carry is twofold. For the deaths of that family and for the fact that I left my own family out there. I can't get a hold of Bobby.

  Maybe I should take my toys and leave.

  ****

  June 20th

  There's a lot of smoke coming from the west. Portland must be on fire. There's more smoke around us, but so far, we haven't had to deal with any fires. Still, I got the men rigging hoses around the campus just in case. We'll drain the lake to put out a fire if we need to.

  The CEO is calling himself Nike now. He's insisting that everyone takes new names. My men
laughed at the idea. I had two guys arguing over who gets to be Wolverine. I'm beginning to hate that CEO.

  I tried to think of a mythical figure that abandoned their children. The idea seemed fitting, but I couldn't come up with one. So I just kept my regular name. Nike argued with me about it. Thought about killing him, but I don't know what that would do to the people here. They look to him for leadership. I'm just a pawn in their eyes, a foreigner, a stranger. They might stick with me if I killed him, or they might turn on us. I just don't know.

  We killed ten more people trying to get over the wall today. They had kids with them. Fuck, what are we doing here?

  ****

  June 23rd

  Haven't been good about writing in this thing. My thoughts are almost constantly with my wife and kids these days. I can still see their faces. I got a picture of them on my phone. When I look at it, their eyes seem accusing, harsh. I can't look at it for long without my eyes tearing up. Still nothing from Bobby, phones aren't working, but I've got a radio here. I put Tate in charge of it.

  I may have to rotate that position. All the man hears is distress calls and horror stories. There's some guy out there broadcasting a radio station, lots of oldies. I'm pretty sure he's trapped somewhere and just trying to keep from going insane. I get it.

  The days are blending together now. There's no more Mondays or Tuesdays. There's just Hellday, and we get seven of them in a row before we get another seven.

  We only killed five people today for trying to climb our walls. I guess it was a good day.

  ****

  June 24th

  The power is out. The lights flickered on the campus, and everything went dark. The solar power collectors kicked in, and we at least have lights and enough juice to prepare food. At night it's dark, so dark that you can't see anything outside the wall. All you can hear are their groans and their constant scratching at the walls.