Necrose Apocalypse [The Complete Collection]

by Tim Moon

  The zombies were in a frenzy. They’d seen me and grown excited. Fetid saliva oozed out of their mouths. Blood, bile, and feces stained their clothes. Streaks of dried blood and inky fluid streaked the glass. I could imagine how awful is smelled.

  For some reason, my mind flashed to the sight of Roger lying on the ground with the infected digging through his gut like dogs uncovering a long-lost bone. Katie’s face twisted in agony as she cried out to me. The look in her eyes…

  That look would haunt me for the rest of my days. I couldn’t help but wonder if I would suffer the same fate.

  I paced back and forth. Humid air and demoralizing emotions enveloped me. My fury and desperation was boiling red hot inside. Without thinking, I roared at the sky and cut loose a volley of curse words that would make a drill sergeant proud.

  Heaving big breaths as the rage boiling inside of me subsided, I saw how my emotion had translated into agitation among the infected.

  “Fuck you all!” I shouted before spinning on my heel and flipping ‘em the bird as I walked away.

  I didn’t even get two steps before the door burst behind me. Shit timing. I flinched and turned. Diamond-like shards of glass tumbled to the ground and bounced off the concrete like a crashing wave. The door and the glass panel adjacent to the door latch had failed.

  Infected poured from the chasm.

  89

  All I could do was find a place to hide. As the infected continued streaming out of the stairwell, I raced to the other end of the building.

  My first stop was by the shattered corner, with the hope of finding a weapon to defend myself. The first piece of re-bar I found didn’t budge when I yanked on it. There were a few chunks of concrete, but if I had to use that to beat them to death they were too close. Throwing the concrete with any effect would be less than useless. My talent lay in the field of art not sports.

  Few pieces of re-bar were exposed enough to attempt removing them. So, after a quick search, I gave up. There was nothing there to fight the infected with.

  Then an idea struck me. It was risky, but it could work. Racing back to the middle of the rooftop, I waved my arms at them.

  “Over here you ugly bastards,” I shouted at them.

  As they honed in on my voice and movement, I began walking towards the edge of the building. Once I was near the short wall that ran around the edge, I clapped my hands to keep the attention of the infected.

  The horde moved towards me. Goddamn they were stupid.

  Despite that fact, watching the infected come at me, even if they were slow, was nerve-wracking. Especially since the crowd was bigger than I could have guessed. Luckily for me they didn’t fan out or try to surround me. Thank God no strategic planning went into their movement.

  Staying along the edge of the building, I led them across the roof to the demolished corner.

  I sneered at the infected. They had persistence and seemingly endless stamina, but I could out think them. Right now, that was my weapon.

  The zombies grew agitated when a victim was close, but just out of reach. We had seen that on the news. Their arms would rise up in anticipation, their groans grew louder and they shuffled just a little faster.

  That was how the group before me looked now.

  I backed up slowly, until the fear of falling tickled my stomach. My feet froze in place. I waited, nervously licking my lips. My upper lip tasted salty from the sweat streaming down my face. This was the most ballsy thing I’d ever done. Fear grew to terror. I had to channel my anger to overcome it and I didn’t waver. This was my last hope.

  When the lead zombies were a mere few feet away from me, I bolted to my right. Running near the jagged, broken edge of the concrete roof, seeing the long drop out of the corner of my eye sent waves of energy through me.

  Their groans betrayed no fear, and not a hint of surprise. As I ducked behind a small utility box, I turned to watch my plan in action. Like mindless lemmings, the mass continued marching ahead. It forced the lead group to tumble over the edge, because they were too dim-witted to change direction in time. It was clear that most of those behind the first few rows hadn’t even noticed my escape.

  One after the other, zombies tipped over the edge of the broken corner. Some fell forward. Others slipped backwards and bounced forward after hitting the floor. One got hung up on a piece of re-bar that somehow punctured its shoulder. I didn’t see how it happened. All I saw was his body dangling like a crooked puppet. He came to rest in such a way that he faced me. Those cold, dark eyes seemed to have found me. He reached up and groaned, twitching on the re-bar.

  His unholy cry was cut off when a woman tripped and fell on him. Her ample weight pulled him off of his perch and the two dropped from sight leaving only a piece of torn cloth, from her dress, flapping in the breeze.

  We were here, it seemed to say.

  “Good riddance,” I muttered to myself.

  Under different circumstances, I might have immortalized the scene on canvas. The light-colored cloth contrasted against the cityscape. The dark fluid dripping from the jagged, textured metal where the zombie dangled, and the bright blue sky above. Something about it spoke volumes to me.

  If my luck didn’t turn around, I might never put brush to canvas again. My heart cracked at the thought. I turned away and wiped my face on the back of my hand. This was my chance to make an escape.

  Looking back at the corner of the building, I saw the crowd beginning to slow and disperse. For whatever reason they didn’t continue pouring over the ledge. Damn.

  In fact, the number of zombies that I could see on the roof cracked the sliver of confidence I had in my plan. The place looked like a shitty roof party. Infected were stumbling all over the place. A lot of them. Well over fifty. One hundred? More? I just couldn’t catch a break.

  My throat clenched as I tried to gulp back my growing sense of dread. My fingers combed through my oily, sweat drenched hair. The only thing I could hope for at this point was a cleared stairwell. If all of the infected had ended up on the roof, then the stairs had to be safe.

  Staying behind the utility box, I duck-walked to the other end and peeked around the corner. I saw that it was all clear and sprinted to the next structure. It was a tall vent or duct of some sort. I stopped behind it to catch my breath and scan the area.

  Exhausted couldn’t even begin to describe how I felt. My body was starting to fight against me. I had to keep going before it gave out.

  The helipad and antennae blocked my view of the stairwell. Still, it was clear that more zombies had plodded upstairs than I could have imagined.

  Sucking in a breath, I frantically went through my options. The way I saw it I could keep going with my original plan to check the stairwell. Or I could just hide and hope none of the infected stumbled across me before I died of dehydration.

  Wiping sweat from my brow, I checked for any infected closing in and then ran for the helipad. Ducking down beside it, I had to bear crawl behind the low wall to stay hidden. A growl made me whirl around.

  I risked a peek over the raised platform. One of them had spotted me running, because several were slowly heading my way, effectively cutting off my retreat.

  Keep going!

  I kept bear crawling. My shoulders burned and I probably left a trail of skin cells as my hands were scraped raw by the rough ground.

  Keep going damn it!

  Just when I thought my arms would give out, I reached the corner of the platform. The structure beside the antennae was tall enough that I could walk standing up. Behind me the infected plodded after me.

  My guts felt like they’d explode. The stairwell was far from being zombie-free. Body after damaged and decayed body rose up from the darkness and spilled out onto the roof.

  I fell back against the concrete structure and slid down until I was sitting. As I wept at the sheer hopelessness of it all, the infected closed in on me.

  Why was I so emotional? I couldn’t help it. My nerves were raw and expos
ed. The highs and lows were exaggerated. I wiped my face and noticed the dead were headed my way.

  For a split second, I wondered if it was worth fighting. I was on the brink of dying anyway. What the hell was the point of fighting on? My family, in New York City, was almost certainly dead. My friends were dead. I hadn’t seen another human being since I had escaped the attack on my group. No military, no police, no redneck militia; nothing.

  I looked over the edge of the building. These fucking zombies weren’t going to sink their teeth into me and turn me to their side. As much as I hated heights, I’d rather leap.

  Something inside of me resisted quitting though. Instead, I stood up and attacked. If it was my time to go, so be it. But I wouldn’t go out lying down feeling sorry for myself.

  The gap between the helipad and the edge of the building was relatively narrow, which worked to my advantage. All three of the infected were loosely lined up in single file. So I charged at them.

  The first one managed to grab my arm. The cuts on my forearm tore open again. Blood trailed out and dripped down my arm once more.

  I twisted in the zombie’s grip and threw a shoulder into him. Then I kicked his knee and the skinny, emaciated zombie fell down. He lost his grip on my arm which was now slick with blood.

  The next zombie lunged at me. His bicep was shredded on one arm, and strips of meat drooped from his arm. Both arms were raised and his fingers flexed at me. They’d been de-gloved and the white of his bone shone at his finger-tips, just like the guy in the conference room. Luckily, he was slow and I was able to dodge to the side and slap his hands away. Then I kneed him in the side of the head and he fell to the side, splayed on the ground.

  Without waiting, I dashed towards the third infected. At one time she would have had golden blonde hair to go with her shapely Miami body. Alas, now she was mangled worse than the other two combined.

  Adrenalin fueled my attack. The woman looked small so I simply plowed into her, expecting to easily slam her to the ground. She hit the ground all right – clinging to me like a demonic spider monkey.

  Cursing my arrogance, I found myself suddenly fighting to keep her bared teeth from ripping into my face. Saliva dripped out of her mouth and smeared down the side of my cheek.

  Back in the apartment, we had watched TV and witnessed people turn. It looked horrible; nightmarish. I didn’t want to experience that.

  I squeezed my forearm under her chin, to force her head back. With the other hand, I grabbed her hair and yanked back as hard as I could manage.

  Something in her neck popped. Her head was crooked now and something bulged in her neck but she still fought. I scrambled to one knee and slammed her down on the rooftop. Movement in the corner of my eye revealed the second man was coming at me again. Using the woman as a shield, I rose to my feet. Her arms swung like a pinwheel, scraping at my back. It was distracting but ineffective.

  Both of my hands were still pulling down on her long hair. Her teeth gnashed at the heavens.

  Using her head like a ram, I charged the man. We impacted with a loud snap. The woman fell limp. The man flew over the edge of the roof. Scooping my arm under the woman’s legs, I hurled her over the edge as well.

  Wobbling a little, I caught myself against the short wall and saw a glimpse of the street below. I backed away and turned. One thing caught my eye. Without thinking, I sprinted across the rooftop.

  It stood proud. The lone sentinel standing guard over me, watching my shenanigans.

  The construction crane.

  90

  I raced across the roof to the crane. My fight with the zombies had drawn the attention of the others and they were closing in. One lurched at me as I approached the corner of the helipad. I swung at him and got lucky when my strike knocked him out of the way. His hands slid down the side of my body and clawed at my legs. The feeling set my hairs on end. Thankfully he failed to snag me.

  Too close.

  Two women and a young boy shuffled around the corner of the short utility structure. I dodged the boy and let loose another flying punch that sent the first woman reeling. She fell back into a crowd that was closing in on me. They toppled backwards like dominoes and a good half dozen or more slipped over the broken edge of the roof into the abyss below.

  The second woman was bowled over. This one hit the concrete hard. She skidded a couple feet so I had to hop over her.

  Holy shit, I was going to make it.

  Hopping up onto the half-wall at the edge of the building, I clambered up the crane’s thin structure. Then I slipped through the outer frame and grasped the ladder. For something so tall, it had a surprisingly weak looking support structure. It was a wonder the thing didn't tip over at the slightest breeze. But it didn't. It would keep me out of reach of the infected even if I was going in the wrong direction.

  I climbed up a ways, before I thought to look down. Sadly, the crane appeared to be installed on the building not the ground. So much for climbing down to the street. So up I went.

  There was no solid wall to look at as I climbed. Just the metal frame and a view of the city far below. I felt a woozy sensation in my stomach as I fought against vertigo and continued climbing. My hands ached and my biceps began to burn. I had to stop and shake out my arms to ease the tension and pain in my wrists and forearms. Climbing up the thin metal ladder was a legit workout, man.

  Below me, the zombies jockeyed for position near the crane. I hugged the ladder as another wave of vertigo washed over me. Holy hell; I was high up. The infected were only ten feet below but being on the edge of the building made it feel higher.

  I rested a bit with my arms hooked over one of the rungs. A pleasant breeze blew my hair. My sweat-soaked shirt clung to my body as if I had worn it swimming.

  And then something odd happened. A sense of calm came over me, despite my predicament. Acceptance. That’s what it had to be. It was as though my emotions were a raging storm and the eye of the storm had settled over me.

  I pulled myself up, one rung at a time, until a hatch loomed above me. Once I had climbed through the hatch, I found myself on a catwalk on the outside of the cockpit, or whatever it was called; I wasn’t sure. Driver’s seat? No idea. Construction was never my thing. Hell, this was the closest I’d ever been to a construction crane before.

  The door creaked open. It smelled funny, like tobacco, leather, and sweat. Certainly better than the infected. My nose still wrinkled, though, as I climbed in and sunk into the chair.

  Finally, there was time to catch my breath. A hummingbird’s heart couldn’t beat as fast as mine was beating. I peeled my shirt away from my skin and shook it. The breeze on my damp skin just made me feel cold.

  Relaxing in the surprisingly plush chair, I looked down at what I’d just done and gasped for breath. What a horrible idea that was. I was absurdly high above the roof of the building and even higher off the ground. This must be what living like the Jetsons felt like. Clouds below me obscured some of the buildings. It was weird.

  My hand trembled as I pulled the door closed. It clicked reassuringly. I was safe. I still needed food and water, but I was safe. It’d be impossible for the infected to reach me.

  Emotions swirled within. I leaned back in the chair to shout and whoop, both in frustration and joy. Sure, I was more isolated than ever, with a growing crowd of infected on the roof. But I could relax. Joy surfaced from the thrill of narrowly surviving and overcoming my fear of heights to climb the crane itself.

  Tears streaked my face. I’d live for another day.

  Clouds gathered outside, casting dark shadows in the cab. Wiping my nose with the back of my hand, I watched the clouds billow and move with the same slow, persistent speed as the infected. The shade was a minor relief from the oppressive heat. I lowered the windows to let in some of the ocean breeze.

  I blinked my eyes clear and inspected the cab – cockpit? - for the first time. There were levers and dials that displayed unknown information. A pair of joysticks attached
to the arms of the chair, were topped with multiple-colored buttons, like a video game controller.

  Something that looked like a large GPS unit was attached to the cab’s frame, just out of reach of my right hand. On the floor were several pedals. The thing was like a damn spaceship.

  Twisting in my seat, I saw even more elaborate looking equipment. It seemed out of place for something that did a simple job of lifting and moving. Turning the other way, my eyes lit up. A bottle of cola!

  I eagerly snatched it up and twisted off the top. There was no hiss of carbonation. Of course it was flat and worn out from old age.

  “Cheers!” I said to myself and took a gulp.

  I gagged and choked, desperately sputtering to clear the foulest taste that had ever filled my mouth. It was chewing tobacco spit.

  My vomit swan dived out of the window, to shower the black-eyed zombies crowding the roof. Acid and tobacco juice burned my esophagus. My throat clenched up as my stomach roiled in pain. My eyes began to water. Yes, water. I never wished for H2O so much in my life.

  “Disgusting fucker. I hope you died a slow death,” I muttered, wiping drool and bile from my chin. I made myself throw up again just to be sure it was all out of my system. I didn’t want to die from a nicotine overdose. What a stupid way to die, after all I’d been through.

  I growled and threw the bottle out, cursing the asshole that had left it up there. A tiny measure of joy sparked to life when the bottle hit a zombie in the head, bursting in a shower of nastiness that knocked the stupid creature over. He also collided with several others. The four of them toppled over the broken edge of the building. Their bodies tumbled through the air until I couldn’t see them anymore.

  I was sickened by what I'd put in my mouth and looked around for something to ease my suffering. There was nothing around the chair. I pulled down the two big visors in a last ditch effort. A sunglasses’ case was clipped to one of them. Inside was a pack of gum with two sticks of minty gum inside of it.