by Tim Moon
Stabs of pain accompanied each step. The knee that hit the car throbbed. What I wouldn’t give for an ice pack, some food, fresh water and my soft bed.
Glancing up, all I saw were stairs and darkness. Looking over my shoulder revealed more of the same. So far, the building appeared to be zombie-free.
My eyes blinked slowly and a yawn made my eyes water. My entire body felt like it had been wrung out. I’d pushed myself further than I thought was even possible. Maybe I should have listened to Alex and gone to the gym more often.
A grin turned into another yawn. All I wanted to do was sleep.
84
The stairwell was as dark as a cave. Obviously the sun had set. A heavy sigh escaped me. I’d be taking my sweet-ass time. It wasn’t like I had anywhere else to be. No one was waiting for me. They were all dead.
The second floor was locked, so I continued up to the next floor. I almost slumped in the corner of the stairwell to sleep, but I didn’t like the confined feeling. Concrete wouldn’t be too comfy and my back couldn’t take that kind of abuse.
On I went.
A dull banging sound echoed up the stairwell, causing my hair to stand on end. I flinched and felt adrenaline accelerate through my veins like a jet car at a drag race.
I leaned over the railing and stared down, straining to hear what it was. My breath caught when I heard it again.
Groans, grunts and the sound of hands pounding and slapping on the windows outside the lobby boomed through the otherwise silent building.
How the hell did they find me?
I started to run back down the stairs so I wouldn’t be trapped upstairs. The lobby was large enough that I should be able to get out the other side, away from the horde.
But then the windows shattered with a massive crashing sound that sent pieces of glass tinkling across the floor. I froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. Could I go down the steps quickly and quietly enough to avoiding drawing their attention?
There was no mistaking the sound of footsteps and scrapes as the undead forced their way inside. Like a demonic chorus, their cries chilled me to the bone. Butterflies swirled inside me and I had a sinking sensation that I’d never make it. A groan echoed up the concrete stairwell. Goosebumps tickled my arms and legs. Hating the situation, I turned and ran upstairs, finding an extra burst of energy.
It was nearly unbelievable. How did they know where to go? How did they get through the fence? Dozens of questions came to mind, but I had to save them for later. The simple truth of it was that they’d found me and for whatever reason, it seemed like they were targeting me.
Icy fingers of fear gripped my chest making it hard to breath. I couldn’t stop running though, I had to get away. There was no point checking the doors on the third or fourth floors. I simply kept pounding the stairs, going higher and higher, trying to create some distance between us.
Could they even climb stairs? It seemed unlikely. They were dumb as a stump. Just in case, I didn’t hesitate. Speed was one of my only advantages.
At the next landing, I paused to catch my breath. My breathing was wheezy as I fought to gulp down oxygen. My legs felt like lead weights especially my calf muscles, which burned with lactic acid. All my body fluids drained out as sweat. I’d need water before they started cramping.
I wanted to roar in anger and yell and curse the heavens. The infected never stopped. They never rested. That was their superpower.
Why did God allow this? Why had God abandoned me? Abandoned us?
Sounds of the zombies stomping up the staircase sent another chill down my spine. The awful stench of death, decay, and feces wafted up, as a breeze poured in from below and funneled the air up the stairwell like a chimney.
“Just die already,” I hissed at them. I tried running again, but my legs hurt too much. So I resigned myself to plodding up one step at a time, slow and persistent, just like the dead.
On a whim, I tried the next door and nearly wept with joy when it opened.
Behind the door was a long, barren hall. Several doors dotted the wall on the left. The right side of the hall was dark, and what little I could see suggested it opened to an atrium. Frankly I was too tired to give a shit. All that mattered was cutting myself off from the infected.
As I turned around to lock the door behind me, I realized it required a key. I cursed. Of course I didn’t have a key. They couldn’t turn a door handle, right? I wasn’t sure. I shook my head. Most of the zombies would bypass the door. They favored the easy route to prey. Bashing a door in wasn’t their first impulse.
Pulling the door closed quietly behind me, I frowned at the door lock. Wait a second.
How was the door on the second floor locked? Maybe someone was hiding there. Hope warmed my heart. I couldn’t check now, but I would try tomorrow.
A wave of exhaustion hit me. Now that I was behind some legit cover I wanted to collapse right there by the door. A small voice said to keep going. One of the doors in the hallway might be unlocked. I trudged over to test the first one.
Before I tried it, I took a deep breath and said a small prayer. The handle turned and the latch clicked open. Heaving a sigh of relief, I pushed the door open and started to step inside. The door made a soft whoosh sound against the floor.
The room wasn’t empty. I could make out shapes of things – a long desk and office chairs. Something along the far wall caught my eye. It was a small table with a coffee maker next to a jug of water. Must be a break room for the construction workers, or their bosses.
“Yes!” At almost the same time, the stench of death registered and I saw a pair of roughed up zombies rise from the floor. They stood between me and the water dispenser.
I stepped back and pulled the door shut. The pair of zombies filled my heart with despair. I was so tired. How could I hope to fight off two zombies?
Hopelessness fogged my vision and I leaned against the door frame and slid down to the ground. Frustrated tears escaped my clenched eyelids. I could feel them tracking down my face until they dripped off my chin.
I sat up with a start when the two zombies began scratching at the barrier between us. The door bumped against its frame and I became vaguely aware of a rustling noise from the dark void on the other side of the hallway. Curious, I began to crawl towards the edge.
The air in here was just as wretched as in the stairwell. It was stronger the closer to the edge I got. My sweaty t-shirt wasn’t much help, but it offered some assistance in filtering the stench.
My hand grasped the railing and I pulled myself up, taking some of the strain off my legs. Something felt odd about the railing. I snatched my hand back.
One section wasn’t cool metal, it was rough. Leaning in close, I could see rope wrapped around it. There were others too. In all, I saw four lengths of rope knotted around the top railing.
Leaning over the railing to look down, I squinted to separate the vague forms I saw from the inky darkness below. Then I saw them. My eyes bulged and I sprung back instantly regretting my curiosity.
Four people had chosen to opt out of the apocalypse. They had taken their fate into their own hands and had hung themselves rather than succumb to the infection. Their bodies swung and twisted ever so slightly in the open air below the railing. Three men and a woman had all given up hope. My stomach twisted at the idea of having to make that kind of decision.
Really though, I wasn’t that far away from it. Was I? My shoulders quaked.
Far below, in a lobby or hall that I had missed before, a crowd of infected milled about aimlessly. My eyes were growing more accustomed to the darkness. How many floors had I passed?
If I found another stairwell or some way to get downstairs, I’d have to be careful not to blunder into that group. There were so many. How’d they get inside? I guess they could be construction workers but it seemed like an awful lot of bodies. Only sunrise would reveal the answer.
I licked my parched lips, thinking about the huge jug of water in the conference roo
m. That shit better not be empty. My stomach growled. I couldn’t just leave it alone. True, there was still the problem of those two infected. My trusty mop handle was still with me, so it wasn’t like I was totally helpless.
Further down the hall was another pair of doors. I walked over and was struck by an overpowering stench. Fighting back my gag reflex, I re-tucked my nose into my shirt and tested the handles. Locked.
My lips pursed as I thought back to the setup of the room. I could try to lure out one at a time and shove them over the railing. Or get them in the hallway while I go inside and then reverse it to trap them in the hallway. Although I’d still have to deal with them at some point.
Whatever plan I chose, I just had to hope it didn’t go to shit. I smirked. This was one of those times when I could use some luck.
I went back to the office door and took a deep breath.
85
The door handle felt cool in my hand. Doubt crept in, paralyzing me. Several long seconds passed before I beat it back. I took a few deep breaths.
Thunder rumbled outside and wind whistled underneath the door to the stairwell. Rain began to pelt the windows.
Shit, I could run a successful business in the cutthroat industry of art and design. My work had featured in galleries around the world and I’d given lectures to thousands of art aficionados.
No one would call me a fighter. Yet here I was about to take out two zombies by myself. The odds weren’t great, but I’d seen weaker people survive worse. This wasn’t out of my reach. I could do this. Channeling the experience of my youth, when I’d hung out with a rough crew of skaters, I re-examined everything about my situation.
There were two doors. The zombies were still scratching at the one I’d opened. This put them on the opposite side of the meeting room from the water jug. I went to the other door and gave it a few soft knocks to draw away the zombies. After a second, I knocked again to be sure the infected heard.
It took the slow fuckers a few seconds to cross the room. I couldn’t help smiling when the door thumped against the frame. Knocking once more to keep them riled up, I rushed back to the first door and opened it slowly. Peering in, I saw that both zombies were pressed up against the far door, like idiots.
My first move was to get the pot from the coffeemaker. I slipped into the room without them noticing and went around the far side of the table. A quick glance revealed there was indeed water in the jug, enough for days.
When I reached the coffeemaker, I pulled out the pot, which made a clinking sound. Now I had two weapons. The pot was glass with a thick plastic handle.
The next step of my plan was going to get wild like the storm raging outside. My heart beat almost as fast as the rain crashing against the window.
A flash of lightning reflected off of black zombie eyes that turned my direction. Hair raised on my neck sending tingling sensations down my arms and spine. The infected scowled and moaned softly as they started towards me. Their faces were horrible; the stuff of nightmares.
I pulled a couple office chairs into the walkway, making a weak barrier between us. I couldn’t risk getting into a struggle and knocking over the water. It was the most important thing in my life at that point.
The last time I’d gotten into a fight with two guys, back in high school, I’d gotten my ass kicked. All of my senses felt heightened. Nervous energy raced through me at the old memory. I held the coffee pot with my arm cocked, ready to smash it into one of their grimy faces.
Both of the infected wore suits. The shorter one reached out for me. His teeth were exposed, which gave him a creepy perma-smile that would haunt my dreams. The other zombie was tall and pudgy. It was too dark to see any other details.
“Come on.” I hopped on my toes like a boxer to get pumped up and to egg them on. Two on one, life or death, now or fucking never; this was my time to shine. Metaphorically.
These dudes wouldn’t be my first zombie kills, but they could be my toughest ones, yet. When my apartment went up in flames, we had to fight our way out through maybe twenty of them. One big difference between then and now was that I wasn’t alone then.
The infected closed in. I began to channel all my anger and fear, using it as fuel. My hand tightened on the mop handle while my other hand cocked back.
The short man bumped into the corner of the table, which knocked him off balance. I held back from lunging forward to stab him with the mop. Dumb fucker knocked the chairs out of the way, one slid my direction. The zombie crashed into the wall with a loud thump that was drowned out by the crackling thunder.
The tall guy continued past him like nothing had happened. His path was clear and he began to reach up for me. His fingers had been gnawed on, leaving only exposed bone that shone bright in the darkness.
Now that’s taking nail biting a little too far.
Tensed and coiled like a jungle cat, I knew that it was show time.
I kicked a chair from my barrier at him, as hard as I could. The chair shot towards him, tipped over and knocked the zombie down. His body hit the floor right in front of me.
He flailed wildly, wriggling forwards like a worm. I pivoted away from his grasp and stomped on his neck. The sound of cracking vertebrae made me wince.
The short guy groaned as he rose and shuffled towards me. His hand clutched my shirt just as I jabbed him in the face with the coffee pot. The glass shattered and left nasty gashes across his face. My strike threw him sideways and my shirt tore. The ravaged fabric made him lose his grip and fall over his companion.
Something grabbed my leg. Tall guy wasn’t dead yet.
Adrenalin coursed through me full bore. Without even thinking, I bellowed in anger and fear. My shoe landed on his head, stomping until his skull was little more than a bowl of mush. Just for good measure, I stabbed him in the throat with the mop.
The short man untangled himself enough to crawl forward and grab my arm. He pulled and I jerked back, swinging the remnants of the coffee pot with my other arm. A glass shard penetrated the side of his head. The pot slipped out of my grip as I lost my balance and fell backward, striking my head on the wall.
The shadowy room blurred for a moment and I struggled to push myself away from the infected in case he was still moving. Something touched my foot. I lashed out with a few sharp kicks. My foot hit something hard that shifted. The water dispenser landed on its side with a thud and I felt my leg get wet.
“Damn it!” I shouted, blinking furiously to clear my vision. The jug had fallen but not all hope was lost. I scrambled to my feet and hefted the jug, which was still about half full. I set it on the conference table so it was out of the way and strode forward to finish off the short man.
He was crawling towards me on his hands and knees. It didn’t take long for him to end up like the tall guy, splattered on the floor.
Finally, I could catch my breath. And enjoy a drink of fresh water.
86
Humidity made sleep fitful at best. My shirt clung to my sweaty skin, thanks to the heat and lack of airflow. The floor was hard as a rock.
Wait. Where was I? For a brief moment the panic of waking up in a strange place made my eyes snap open and then I squinted at how bright it was.
Morning sunlight lanced through half-closed blinds. Rolling over, I stretched slowly. The back of my head throbbed and I could feel a knot where I’d slammed it into the wall during my fight with the zombies. My back ached too, but I was still alive and that was more than most people.
My nose wrinkled as the odor it registered. What the hell?
The room smelled like a dog shit itself to death and then some asshole had doused the corpse in gasoline and set it on fire. The thick, moist air caused the stench to linger in my mouth and throat. Something had to be done.
Groaning like it was the morning after a wicked party, I stood up and carefully poured some of the precious water into a small paper coffee cup. The fucking cup tipped over splashing water everywhere.
I tried again. This t
ime I set the giant water bottle down on the table and tipped it over with one hand, while I held the cup with my other hand. I carefully filled the cup and chugged it.
Victory tasted great and I had several more cups. After I had drunk my fill, I sacrificed a handful of water to wash my face. It was minor relief but it felt amazing.
The room looked shabby in the harsh morning sun. The walls were bare. What I’d assumed was a decent conference table was old and scratched to hell. Even the carpet wasn’t how it had looked at night. The dusky red was faded and stained. It wasn’t the right sized for the room and hadn’t been stapled down.
I looked across the room at the remnants of the water cooler, the coffee machine and the two bodies splayed out on the floor near the conference table. The place was a mess. Gore stained the carpet. I leaned over and spotted my mop handle sticking up from the tall guy’s throat like a flag pole.
Turning away to avoid retching, my abs felt like they were being jabbed by needles. Everything ached. That one time I tried out for the high school football team had nothing on this.
Thankfully, the windows opened a little. Not far. Just four inches or so like a hotel, but enough for a fresh breeze. A small but appreciated win. Droplets of water from the night’s storm were knocked free by the movement and trickled down the glass.
I stood next to the open window while I warmed up with some easy stretching. My movements were slow to avoid tweaking my back. Please baby Jesus, don’t make me run more stairs.
As I pulled my foot up to stretch my quadriceps, I took in the sights. Looking down at the barren streets gave the impression of a peaceful city. Higher up, most of the view was limited by other buildings. All in all though, the skyline was great. Glass windows glistened like diamonds set against puffy white clouds. A slice of blue hinted at the ocean in the distance.