The grill made her wish for burgers and bratwurst. Would the smell of cooked flesh attract deaders? They took their meals raw; all they cared about was the taste of blood and fleeing meat.
Fleeing meat. That crazy asshole Grinder could probably turn that into a song.
She took a length of wire out of her backpack and secured the ladder to the post. What the hell had happened to Grinder anyway? He’d stayed with them that first night, but then he met some guys in black t-shirts who had a stash of whiskey, and he hadn’t been back since. What sort of hell was he raising? Kate almost wished she could have checked out his music. He was a character and a half, and she suspected his CDs were just as trippy as he was.
“Come on, you lug heads,” she called. Anders gave her the thumbs-up and crawled out onto the ladder. He seemed blasé about being on it, but he also stuck to all fours.
He slid up beside her on the balcony and nodded just once.
“Nice work.”
“Thanks, man,” she replied. She didn’t know his rank, and she didn’t care.
“So are you charging in this time too? Since you want to be the leader and all.”
“You get the honors. I don’t know about being a hero. Or we could get country boy to go in first. He’s big and dumb.” She chose to ignore the sarcasm in his voice.
“When Jones isn’t playing soldier boy, he’s studying to be a lawyer,” he replied. “I wouldn’t call him dumb.”
Kate stifled a laugh. Well, wasn’t he a catch? She should marry him soon so he could get to work on her case early. She wondered what that conversation would sound like. So yeah, before we got married, I used to tie men up and gut them like pigs. Pass the potatoes?
Mark took to the ladder next, also on all fours. He glanced down, then looked back up with a big goofy grin on his face like they were on some carnival ride at a fair.
“Is he always happy?” Kate asked quietly.
“Not really. We figure he took a shine to you. It’s not every day we get hooked up with a civilian who doesn’t look like she drives a big rig.”
“Me? You are so full of shit that … yeah. Your eyes are brown.”
“You guys talking about me?” Mr. Tall and Dorky asked when he got across the ladder and planted his feet on the balcony.
“Just saying that you should go in first is all. You know, so you can save the civvies and get a medal. They still give out medals, right?”
Anders moved to the door and rapped on it with his knuckles.
“Anyone home?”
“Not too loud,” Mark said. He motioned to the ground below, where a few deaders walked in circles. One looked up at the sound but decided something out on the street was more interesting, so it loped away. The others milled in their own private tea party.
“Door’s stuck.” Anders yanked on it a few times, to no avail.
“Wait. Use my KA-BAR.” Mark lowered his pack from his back and extracted a huge blade.
“I’ve always wanted to see one of those.” Kate studied the big blade as Mark handed it over.
The knife looked like it just stepped out of a Rambo movie. It was big, matte black and appeared sharp enough to shave the fine down of hair right off her forearm. She wanted to hold it, but they needed to get the door open first.
“This ain’t gonna work. The blade will probably snap.” Anders slipped the edge between the door and frame and was greeted by a metallic scraping noise.
“That thing’s strong enough for Superman.”
“Bug has the crowbar.” Anders handed the blade back. It passed in front of Kate’s eyes again. She looked at it and missed her knife. It was probably back in her apartment. She wondered if she would ever see it again. It was a nasty blade, and it could also link her to a series of murders in downtown Seattle hotel rooms.
“Where’d you get the blade?” Kate asked.
“Army Navy surplus. They had tons of them at the store in Tacoma. I picked up two and sent one to my dad. He was in the Vietnam War and said he used it for everything. Some of the guys carried smaller blades, but I figured what the hell.”
“I want one.”
Her cell buzzed against her leg. What the hell did Mike want now?
She slipped the phone out of her pocket while Anders went back across the ladder for Bug’s crowbar.
“We’re kinda busy here, Mike,” she said and hung up.
She pocketed the device and made way for Anders, who now had a small S-shaped bar, thanks to Anne crawling halfway across the ladder. He jumped off the ladder, again making enough noise to attract every deader within a block or two. A strip of duct tape flapped loose and caught on the railing, but he yanked his arm free, leaving a swath of silver material behind.
“Watch this,” he said and then slipped the crowbar handle into the edge of the door. As he applied force, the door creaked and popped outward, but it held fast near the lock.
“Get farm boy up here. He looks big enough to rip the door off,” Kate said and made room for Mark to get by. He faced her and slid past. They were face to face for a second, and his body brushed against her. Her face went hot at the contact, and she had to bite back a curse.
“Gimme that thing,” Mark said.
“I got it. Let me try again.”
The two bickered for a few seconds. Kate took the time to cover her blushing cheeks by looking over her assault rifle. She knew little about it, except that they said it was an M4 variant. The head gun nerd was pretty excited to have them and asked her to be careful. It had iron sights, and the clip held 30 rounds.
Kate’s gun training was all of fifteen minutes, and that had been while on the run. Ever since that first day, she’d been itching to get another one in her hands. It felt good to have the gun slung over her shoulder.
It appeared light when the National Guardsmen handled it. But she guessed that it weighed about ten pounds with a full load. It didn’t seem like that much, but with the pack of food and water, a couple of clips, and her sword, she was carrying a lot more weight than she was accustomed to, and it used an entirely new set of muscles. She was sure they would be screaming at her tomorrow—assuming she made it back.
Mark jammed the bar into the door, right next to the lock. He hammered the curved end with his palm. When he was satisfied, he leaned in with his whole body.
The door popped open, and the parts of the lock blew past him to clatter on the metal flooring. The bolt hit the deck and bounced over the side with a clang.
Anders made a few hand gestures toward Anne. Mark slipped aside, and Anders went into the building with his gun held high. Anders must have been on edge because they were near the goal. Once they got inside and secured the building, they could take the survivors and haul ass back to the football stadium.
That was the plan. It was simple, and she liked that. But because it was so simple, it left little wiggle room for any problems that might arise. Like getting eaten by a horde of deaders.
Mike
Nelson pulled me away from the chaos at the front gate. We pushed our way through the press of onlookers until we found a break in the crowd.
Meanwhile, the soldiers pulled deaders in and wrapped them in thick sheets of plastic, as if they were giant chunks of meat. I didn’t want to feel sorry for the things. Nonetheless, I felt pangs for what they had been.
The material looked like Saran Wrap designed to preserve an entire cow. I found it interesting that they left the deaders’ noses uncovered while duct-taping the mouths. So much for them being dead.
“What the hell are they doing?” I pulled Nelson to a stop and pointed at the procession.
“Experiments.”
“What kind?”
“The kind that do the most good,” he shot back.
“Are they testing a cure?”
“No idea. Come on, let’s go!” He pulled me after him once more.
I wanted to stop him again and riddle him with questions. Nelson was there at the beginning, at the sight of the very
first deader. He told us a heart-breaking tale of having to shoot his best friend. That first night, we all had some sad tales, and we were able to build a sort of camaraderie based on that. Not a friendship exactly, although I felt like the four of us were treated differently. I wanted to know why he was helping us and what he was really up to.
Nelson, the man of mystery, dragged me in his wake, gesturing toward the train station.
“By the end of the day, trains are going to roll out of the city.” Nelson came to a stop again. He stood close to me, and the stench of sour sweat greeted me. Not that I was in much better shape.
“Sounds risky.”
“Nowhere is safe anymore. You want out, figure out how to get on the first train. Fight your way through the mob if you have to.”
“What do you mean? Did the virus escape?”
He didn’t answer.
“Be straight with me.”
He sighed and kicked at an imaginary object on the ground. “They’re going to line up the trains, two at a time, one on each track. Then they’ll load as fast as possible.”
“Why so fast? Are we in danger?”
“Danger? Shit! We been in danger since the first one spawned.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. It’s going to be messy. You just get on one of the cars as fast as you can. Bring your friends, and when you get out of the city, go somewhere safe. They have control of the media, but this shit is not done. Not by a long shot.” He trailed off and stared into space.
“They said it was contained.”
“Contained, my ass. They held out for maybe a day, but they got out.” His frustration boiled over as he kicked at the ground again. “They got out, and we’re fucked. City’s fucked too. But they got a plan. They always got plans.”
Nelson clapped my shoulder and started to walk away.
“Plan for what?”
“For them. To clear the streets. Ah hell, I already said enough. Go on.” He pushed at my chest.
“Clear the streets?”
“Mike! Go! I’ll find you later if I can. I need to check on something. I promise, if I get a straight story, I’ll let you in on it.”
“Thanks, man. Thanks for telling me.”
“No worries. You were cool the first night we got here, and I appreciate that. I hope you get out.”
“What about you?”
“Me? I was there at the beginning, and I plan to be on that first ride out of the city. So you meet me in three hours. Call it fifteen hundred. Got that?” He glanced at his watch. “Meet me right over there.”
Nelson pointed at a large white tent that was jokingly referred to as “no-man’s land.” It looked like a decontamination tent. Some military sorts milled around, glaring at anyone who strayed too close.
“How am I supposed to get in there?”
“Just tell ‘em you’re waiting on Nelson. Say you’re a contractor; they’ll understand.”
They would understand? I hoped so, because I sure didn’t.
Dammit. I needed to get Kate back here. I couldn’t abandon her and Lester. Or the shaggy-haired kid with the foul mouth. It was bad enough we were surrounded by deaders that wanted to eat us alive. He was interested in writing a new album based on it. The second day here, he had even gone so far as to go looking for someone with a musical instrument. All he came across was a wise-cracking Brit named Lee who insisted everyone call him Goatboy. They took to each other like peanut butter and jelly. Lee had managed to sneak in a ukulele, and the two of them were just as ridiculous a two-man band as the world had ever seen.
I took the cell phone out of my pocket and dialed Kate. The phone rang four or five times before she picked up.
After she hung up, I stared at the phone, then put it in my pocket. I turned to Nelson, who had a questioning look on his face. “Trouble?”
“It’s Kate, what do you think?”
“I think some deaders are about to learn about lead poisoning.” He smiled.
I told myself she would be fine. She had a couple of soldiers with her and enough rounds to take on a small army. If things got too crazy, Kate had her swords. I looked toward the building that was their destination and sighed. In a way, I wished I were with them. At least I would be doing something instead of standing around, hoping to bluster my way onto a train.
Nelson shook my hand. “Fifteen hundred, or three p.m. for you civvie types. Be there, or I won’t be able to help. Got it?” He looked me in the eye. I could see weariness eating away at him. We had all lost a lot in the last few days, but Nelson had managed to keep his feelings in check and present a strong military front. Right now, I was not seeing it. All I saw was a fragile human being.
I nodded, and just like that, he was off.
Shayne
The deader stood in a corner and stared at a spot on the floor while a line of blood drool foamed around its lips. It turned one bloodshot eye on him. The other was a mass of white mush that made Shayne want to scream in horror. He was so repulsed he wanted to climb right out of his skin. Something had bashed her along side the head, and then left part of it caved in. Even with brain matter oozing from her shattered cranium, she came at him.
The woman wore a pretty button-up pinstripe shirt and nothing else. Her legs were bare and a mottled gray that made him never want to look down there again, no matter who the legs belonged to. If he saw a Victoria’s Secret model without pants, he would stare at the sky and wonder why there weren’t more clouds.
All of her exposed skin was covered with blood and dirt. She had a hand in her left grip, a snack that dripped gore and was missing most of its digits.
She raised her arms and lurched toward him, dropping the half-eaten hand in favor of the prey before her. Shayne took one staggering step away, sure she was going to collide with him. But luck was on his side, as she stepped on the hand on which she had been chewing, and stumbled. He drew the fire extinguisher up, and as soon as she fell toward him, he swung in an arc that terminated with her neck. His hands shook so severely that he was afraid he would drop the extinguisher, but he managed to hold on.
She crashed into the wall in a pile of her own limbs, and the smell of her hit Shayne like a gut punch. The cold coppery scent of rancid meat and blood filled his nostrils.
Shayne tried to hold on, but his mouth filled with bile and half-digested ibuprofen. It exploded from between his lips and coated the deader at his feet just before the fire extinguisher smashed into her back.
Shayne staggered back against the door and panted. His mouth burned, and he longed for some Listerine.
The deader tried to roll over and make a grab for Shayne. He stepped back until his back hit the door. See, guys? Not so hard. Anyone can do it. So don’t get left behind, kids, take a blunt object to zombie Mommy. Dad will be so proud!
He dropped the fire extinguisher and slid to the floor. He hurt everywhere. Even blinking made his eyes water, because it felt like someone was drilling a hole into his head via his eye sockets.
“What to do with you?” he asked the twitching corpse at his feet.
“Are you okay? Shayne?” Kara called from the other side.
“If he acts like that again, I’m going to throw him off the stairs myself. Fucking weirdo.” Pete’s voice was probably meant to be quieter. Shayne grinned at the deader.
“Showtime,” Shayne said.
Shayne took a few seconds to catch his breath. The dead woman reached for him; her hand crawled across the hardwood floor and caught hold of his ankle before he pulled it away.
Shayne struggled to his feet, using the fire extinguisher like a mini cane. When he was more or less upright, he shuffled forward and planted the end of his weapon against the head of the deader on the floor. Her eyes rolled, and the hand that wasn’t crumpled beneath her body still held on to his ankle.
“Get ready to let me in, but don’t open the door yet!” he yelled as loud as he could.
“We hear you, Shayne. We hear you!” K
ara called back.
Shayne tugged his pant leg up and lowered his sock. Then he offered his ankle to the deader and took the pressure off her head. He knew this would hurt, but he didn’t suppose it could hurt any more than what he was already feeling.
He was wrong. Very, very wrong.
The deader shot her head off the floor and sank her teeth into the flesh around his lower leg. He thought he would be ready for it. He had lived with utter agony for so long, and this was just a bite. How bad could it be?
It started with ripping pain that felt like someone had just jammed white-hot nails into his leg. Then the agony radiated up his calf and slammed into his knee. He bit down on his tongue to stop from screaming, and when blood ran down his lips, he wiped it away with the back of his shaking hand.
Shayne yanked his leg away and left some of his flesh. In sudden rage, he lifted the fire extinguisher and slammed it onto the deader’s head as hard as he could. The woman’s face flattened, and he saw blood, bone and brain. Gore oozed out with a sound unlike anything he had ever heard before.
Shayne couldn’t help it; his bladder let go. Warm urine filled his pants.
“Let me in!” he screamed and hit the door with his upper body.
They opened the portal, and he fell into the office. Pete, of all people, dragged him across the floor while Ed and Joey looked at the corpse. They both had pathetic weapons in hand. Ed held a small pocketknife and Joey a heavy-duty stapler.
“Damn, Shayne, you did it!” Ed turned to look him up and down like he’d never seen Shayne in his life.
Shayne looked at his “friends,” and in the last coherent moment of his life, he thought about how much he hated each and every person in this room. He also thought about how much he hated himself. He thought about what he had let himself become with the disease, the pain and all the pills. So many pills.
Among the Dead Book 2 (Among the Living) Page 9