Alaskan Undead Apocalypse (Book 3): Mitigation Book 3)

by Sean Schubert

  “What the hell?” Emma’s gasped.

  Jerry wondered aloud, “Pets?”

  Panning the light left, they saw a recently dead body with a still spreading pool of blood around it. Jerry looked at Emma and cocked his eyebrows. The dead man looked like a soldier, probably one of those militiamen. He didn’t look like a zeke to Jerry, so he found himself very curious about what had happened to the man.

  Emma approached the dead body cautiously. Leaning over him, she began to search him. From a deep pouch attached to his belt, she pulled a pair of ammunition magazines. They weren’t the same size as her rifle’s but the bullets looked to be the same caliber. Ammunition was ammunition. She stuffed the clips into her backpack and continued her search. He had cigarettes, a lighter, a small flask with what smelled like whiskey in it, an MRE ration kit, and some other odds and ends. The search took her a mere moment, but their proximity to the zeke kennels were making both of them uncomfortable.

  They needed to get in the school and find Claire and the kids.

  59.

  When Jess burst into the library, her breathless entry caused a gathering crowd at the door to scurry into dark corners like roaches fleeing the light. They uttered weak, surprised gasps as they retreated deeper into the bookshelves. Many had survived similar, if slightly scaled back versions of the battle outside and the desperate sounds were reviving suppressed fears. Their collective psyche was largely broken, as was their morale. They were a scared herd of prey, corralled into a trap and waiting to die. The sad truth was that most of the people hiding in the library were well aware of that fact and their probable fate but they were paralyzed with fear.

  Jess, standing alone in the entryway, scanned the library for anyone who might help but not a single soul looked at her. They avoided her gaze as much as they avoided the reality of the struggle happening outside the school. They were detached and dispirited. Not a one of them was willing to engage her. No one was even willing to acknowledge her.

  That wasn’t good enough for her and she didn’t have time for subtlety. Unfortunately, as she started to speak, she was overcome with emotion and began to sob, drenching her words and the fire of her passion. She said to everyone, “I’m taking those kids outta here. I could use some help. Those kids could use some help. This is our chance. They killed Royce and any of us might be next!”

  Her plea was met with silence, other than an embarrassed sniffle or a throat clearing cough. To which she continued, “This is no way to live. We’re all prisoners here. This is our chance to get away.” Still nothing.

  Jess waited for a second or two, hoping that guilt would work its magic. She was a mother and was adept at using her daughter’s sense of guilt to influence her decisions and actions. She was pulling out all her tricks to encourage someone to step forward. She was more than a little concerned about taking those kids out beyond the walls, especially at night and even more so without the aid of another adult pair of eyes and arms.

  She waited until she was certain that no one was willing to be that person. Something in her belly turned and crawled up into her chest and then into her throat. “No one? Not one of you? You all make me sick! Fucking cowardly pieces of shit! Every one of you. You deserve to be prey. You deserve what you get.”

  She was again only met with breathing and the staccato pops of gunfire outside. Jess allowed a disgusted, single, silent laugh to find its way to the surface. She shook her head in frustration and walked back out.

  The children had been waiting in the hallway all that time. The littlest boy was standing near the wall and messing with a small rectangular object which appeared to have been taped there by someone. The wires which led away from the device had also been taped to the wall. Little Paul seemed to be tracing some raised letters on the object with his tiny index finger. Jess signaled to all the children to gather around her so they could get on their way. They needed to use the distraction, whatever it was, to their benefit.

  “What about Claire?” Danny asked.

  “Claire?”

  “She’s the woman who was with us. She needs your help too. We can’t just leave her here.”

  “You’re right...?”

  “Danny. My name is Danny and this is Jules and Paul and Nikki.”

  Jess nodded to each in turn and then continued, “Danny, you’re right. We need to get her outta here too. We need to go find her but I don’t think we have much time.”

  Lucky for both of them, Jess was very familiar with the school. Her daughter had already attended two years of high school at Skyview, which had afforded Jess opportunities to be in the school. She knew of some shop classrooms on the far side of the cafeteria. They were somewhat removed and in a blind corner away from the more trafficked areas of the building. It would likely be a good place to hide someone. She thought that maybe some other folks who had been brought to the school under similar circumstances had started out there.

  Jess’ footsteps echoed in the dark, cavernous room as she ran toward the shop corner. She rounded the corner and was surprised when the fist came out of the gloom and struck her squarely in the face, hitting her with all the fury and force of Thor’s Hammer, drawing blood from her nose and tears from her eyes. She was instantly unbalanced and thrown backward, gliding awkwardly across the slick tiled floor. The rifle she had taken from Mel clattered away from her, sounding like a squad of tin soldiers wearing plastic boots running across the floor. It came to rest well out of sight, not that she could see anything at the moment anyway.

  With her eyes filled with fearful tears and her chest empty of breath, Jess began to panic. Try as she might though, she couldn’t get herself back to her feet. When she heard the chillingly calm voice emerge from behind her disorientation, her panic nearly climbed to full blown attack.

  With icebergs chilling his speech, Sullivan said coolly, “Yeah, I don’t think so bitch. It’s way past visiting hours.” Apparently pleased with his creativity, Sullivan produced a poisonous snicker. Despite the bludgeoning he had just dealt to Jess, Sullivan’s breathing had never changed and his heart rate never fluctuated. He was as cool as frostbite and just as hospitable.

  Danny recoiled from the terrifying man and tried to shield the other children at the same time. They all retreated clumsily, tripping over one another as they did, inextricably knotted together like a basket of crabs.

  Sullivan smiled and said to them, “I was always good with kids too. They always learned to respect me or pay the price. You kids not like your kiddy kennel outside? I guess I’ll just have to come up with something better next time, huh?”

  Danny found enough courage to demand, “Where’s Claire? What’d you do with her?”

  Sullivan took out a large hunting knife from a scabbard hidden under his jacket and acted as if he was picking his teeth with the enormous blade. He asked absently, “Was that her name? We never got around to formal introductions I guess. Tell you the truth, I wasn’t that interested. No, I was curious about a completely different side of her. And let me tell you; she was remarkable.”

  Sullivan looked at Danny, who was barely visible in the darkness. “You want to see her? Or what’s left of her, I should say. Help yourself. She’s inside.”

  Danny wanted to run into Claire and get her out, but Sullivan’s grin froze him in his tracks, with a slight sensation of vertigo and nausea. It held all of Medusa’s menace with the power to change men to stone.

  Sullivan laughed and leaned forward so that he was towering over the still huddling group of children. He hovered like a vulture awaiting the fateful moment of its carrion promise. Sullivan relished those moments and the accompanying sense of power that surged in his veins. There was no narcotic he had ever tried which produced the same effect.

  “Is she...?”

  Sullivan again laughed a toxic chuckle. “D’you wanna know if she is okay? Or just alive? There’s a big difference, ya know. The Colonel...he ordered me to keep her alive and I guess I did my best, but I kinda lost tr
ack of her in all my fun.”

  The man’s laughing did not return, but the sneer had never left. It was still painted across his face like a grim splash of dark graffiti.

  Jess was still not recovered enough to get back to her feet, but her mouth was well on its way. “Such a tough man, torturing a woman. She was probably tied down too.”

  Sullivan’s smiled barely receded but something happened to his eyes. They narrowed and filled with anger. Whatever calm had been a part of his facade evaporated as his fury formed into threatening storms of emotion promising to burst at any moment.

  Jess, her eyes still not in focus, wouldn’t have paused even if she could see the homicidal urge in Sullivan’s eyes. “She was, wasn’t she? My hero. Hey, maybe as an encore, you could take one of those kids and—”

  Starting across the cafeteria, his hands balling into angry, tight fists, Sullivan’s acidic voice cut her off, “You better watch what you say bitch, ‘cause you’re next.”

  From the entrance to the cafeteria, one of the Colonel’s girls, he couldn’t be sure if it was Sherry or Terry, screamed, “What are you doing? You’ve got to stop! They’re just children for God’s sake!”

  Sullivan was once again hearing someone tell him what he could and what he could not do, and he had just about heard enough of that for one day. He especially didn’t like to be given orders by a woman. He’d never worked for a woman and couldn’t imagine having done so. With a murderous scowl, he looked at the woman standing in the middle of the hallway and thought about what to do for a moment.

  With no other ideas surfacing immediately, Sullivan leaned back on his heels and hurled his large knife at her. The blade rocketed across the cafeteria, turning end over end as it cut through the air. Having practiced such a throw for countless hours on the Colonel’s ranch, Sullivan had gotten quite adept at throwing knives and axes over the years. This distance, however, was several more yards than that to which he had grown accustomed. The blade struck its target, but instead of sinking itself into her flesh, the silver metal only cut her. A wound opened up on her arm and her abdomen which spilled a torrent of blood from cut arteries.

  The woman screamed and fell over backward. Out of Sullivan’s sight but viewing all of this was the other of Colonel Bear’s secretaries who had just emerged from the Colonel’s office. She saw her friend fall, scattering blood on the floor and walls. Both women were now screaming, though the one still standing took off running down the hall toward the library.

  Flanked by two of his more loyal men, Colonel Bear was by then standing behind the counter separating the office from the hallway. He watched the young woman, who only moments before had been pleasuring him to his delight, run toward the library, screaming.

  He looked at the two men and with his chin gestured down the hallway toward the library. His obedient men did his bidding without question. They marched down the hall and out of sight. Colonel Bear sighed heavily, already regretting what he suspected he would be forced to do. Teaching lessons to these people was something in which he had no interest. Carter, and especially Sullivan, were thankfully more willing to put forth the effort necessary to rein in people’s wills.

  Seconds after his guards disappeared into the doors, the Colonel could hear the doors open again. There was commotion erupting; voices filled with anger and devoid of fear filled the echoing hallway. Jess had relit the pilot lights of their resolve and the other woman’s hysterical shouting had added fuel to the fire.

  The two militiamen did their best to quiet the agitated civilians. Unfortunately, their efforts were limited to pointing their rifles and shouting at everyone to “get the fuck back!” When the two men felt like they had exhausted all their options, they started to pull their triggers.

  Already excited, the civilians did not shrink away from the shooting. They surged forward, a mob with a single purpose, and quickly overwhelmed the men, who were bludgeoned to death with boot heels, fists, and the butts of their own rifles turned against them.

  A new voice found its way above the others in the hallway. It was one of the men who had refused to join his militia; Daniel maybe. He was trying to get them organized. The Colonel could tell by their frantic voices that they had guns and were now trying to decide how best to use them. There were only a few brief moments before the uprising would likely begin. It would likely be messy and the Colonel didn’t have the resources to be able to fight a battle outside against the skins and one inside against...his slaves.

  The Colonel shook his head and sighed a disappointed chest full of air. The hallway was now bubbling with new voices and with questions. There was doubt where there had only been fear and control before. Again the Colonel sighed. He had so hoped his efforts could lead to a new beginning. Apparently it wasn’t going to be this time. He would simply have to try again. He was going to miss his little mistresses, but he had to do what he had to do. He had to have control, especially now. He couldn’t allow this moment to slip away from him.

  Colonel Bear took a small contraption from a wooden box on the counter. The olive colored device wasn’t much larger than a cell phone but looked kind of like a hole puncher. He clicked off the safety and then detonated the claymore mines which lined the hallway walls outside the library.

  The explosion shook the school to its core. The shrapnel, without anywhere else to go, careened seemingly endlessly off the walls, wreaking a bloody vengeance upon flesh with utter abandon. The intensity of the blast forced a rush of hot, fiery air to surge through the hallways, knocking the Colonel, who hadn’t anticipated the fury of the explosion, onto his large posterior. The gush of wind along with the concussion of the explosion also set Sullivan off balance, sending him to the floor as well.

  Taking the opportunity to get around him, Danny stood up and tried to run into the back rooms to find Claire. He took one step and was tackled by the big, scary man. Danny kicked and struggled, but the man was just too big, too strong, and too willing to be mean. Very quickly, the man had his hands around Danny’s throat and was squeezing until Danny’s eyes felt like they would burst from the pressure.

  Danny was fairly certain the man was going to kill him until Jess intervened with a kick to Sullivan’s side. The man let up his grip slightly, but didn’t release Danny. When Jess reared back to deliver another kick, Sullivan rolled and grabbed her leg. He pulled her to the floor, punching her between the shoulder blades.

  Luckily, Danny was able to extricate himself from the fray. He retreated to the wall and pulled his legs up to his chest. He’d never been so afraid in all his life. Trying to draw him out from his stupor, Jules yelled, “Danny! Do something! He’ll kill ‘er!”

  Sullivan had finally gotten his hand onto the back of Jess’ head and was in the process of forcing it down violently onto the floor. Danny shook and in so doing, he felt that familiar weight in his jacket pocket.

  Danny stood and pulled the revolver from his pocket. He screamed at the top of his voice, “Leavvvvve her alooooooone!”

  Sullivan stopped and smiled up at Danny. If the man was afraid at all, he was doing an amazing job hiding it. Danny immediately felt like the man was more in control of the situation than he was, despite the fact that it was Danny who was holding the firearm.

  Sullivan sneered, “Kid, unless you’re ready to use that thing, you better not make a habit of pointing it at people.”

  Danny wilted. The gun began to sag and droop in front of him, like a lifeless tree branch ready to be pruned. The pistol felt so heavy and the trigger seemed so impossible. Sullivan was probably right. The image of the other man Danny had inadvertently shot flashed into his mind. It had happened so quickly. There had been no thinking on Danny’s part; he only reacted and then the man was dead. This felt so different; so premeditated and vengeful. It felt so much more real and calculated.

  Danny was crying frustrated and fearful tears by then, which Sullivan saw and relished. The man’s smile grew until it filled the entire room. He laughed. “I knew y
ou didn’t have it in you. You’re no killer.”

  From behind and to the side of Danny, Emma shouted, “No, but I am!” She fired two three-round bursts from close range, all the bullets striking Sullivan in the torso and legs. He tried to move as the bullets punched holes into and through his body, breaking bones and laying waste to internal organs. His right lung, pierced completely through from front to back, filled with blood and collapsed. Another bullet shattered his torso. Still another found its way to his groin, emasculating him violently. Sullivan fell backward with an ugly, startling thud.

  Jerry was already running over to Danny, who was still pointing his gun at the dead or dying Sullivan. Danny was still crying. He was ashamed. He needed to be strong and he was unable. He felt like he’d let down Jules, Nikki, and Paul; not to mention Jess who was very nearly beaten to death.

  Jerry stepped next to Danny and slowly lowered Danny’s arm back to his side, removing the pistol from his hand. Sensing Danny’s frustration, he said reassuringly, “I’m proud of you, buddy.”

  Danny looked up at Jerry questioningly. He couldn’t possibly guess the source of Jerry’s pride. He didn’t need an explanation though. He just wanted to get away from the school. He wanted to be away from the zombies. He wanted to feel safe again. At the moment, burrowing himself into Jerry’s jacket and chest would suffice. He hugged himself to Jerry and felt Jules’ little arms when she joined the embrace.

  Jerry whispered to both of them, “I’m so sorry. I promised I’d protect both of you.”

  “You came for us, Jerry,” Jules said. “You kept your promise.”