“This was a bad idea,” she replies. “I knew we should have just kept going.”
“It’ll be fine,” he says, trying to comfort her.
“How do you figure that?” she asks, stopping on the stairs to turn and glare at him.
He points his thumb back from where they came, “That’s not the only way out of here. There are plenty of emergency exits, not to mention the front doors and the other service tunnels.”
“Did you see how many of them are out there?” she asks. “We’ll be lucky if they don’t find a way in and kill us for being so stupid.”
“I’m doing my best here, April,” he says with a frown.
“I know,” she replies with a small shake of her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s all right,” he waves off her apology. “Let’s get upstairs. There’s an employee lounge on the third level. We should be safe in there for the night.”
On the first floor, Johnny peeks through the narrow length of window on the door. He waits patiently and inspects the other side. As he places his hand on the knob, he sees movement. A faint shadow plays across the hallway, followed by another jerking shadow close behind.
“There’s someone in there,” he whispers over his shoulder.
April peeks in from around the side of the door as a face slams against the glass. Hands bang hard against the door making her jump back in fear.
“Shit!” Johnny backs away. “Well, I guess we’re not going that way.” He leads April in front of him by the shoulder as he watches the door.
With a faint click, the door inches inward and a corpse begins to lumber through. Behind it, there are three more bodies closing in.
“Run!” Johnny shouts and pushes her forward.
“Run to where?!” she says panicked.
“Up!” he screams.
Their feet bang out against the steps as the bodies ooze through the doorway. Each floor that they pass has the same images in the glass. The dead are everywhere, working their way toward the noise of the desperate pair as they flee.
“What are we going to do?” she asks.
Johnny keeps pushing her forward as the bodies slam against the doors at every level. Horrid, gnashing faces smear against the windows as April and Johnny pass, causing them to keep tight against the railing as they ascend.
April’s legs are getting weaker with every flight of stairs. The stinging builds and her calves begin to cramp. “I have to stop. I can’t keep going,” she pleads with him.
“You don’t have a choice,” he says, “move!” He pushes her forward again as he hears the shambling steps below. “Hurry, through here,” he opens a door.
“No, what if there’re more of them?!” She says, pulling away.
“Its file storage,” he replies and pulls her in through the door. “There’s never anyone in here.” He pushes the door closed and ducks down as he gently pushes April away from the window. The dead moan from the other side. Their voices mingle, creating an unnatural chorus of deathly howls. Johnny places his finger over his lips and mouths the words - “Be quiet.”
The bodies meander out of view, taking to the next flight of stairs. Johnny watches their shadows dance against the far wall through the faint light that comes through the window. He waits patiently with his back pressed tightly against the door until the last of the group flutters away.
“Are they gone?” April asks under her breath.
He nods his head and relaxes against the door.
With a hollow thud, hands pound against the door and pick up pace into a deafening rhythm.
“Go grab that chair,” Johnny shouts, bracing himself against the door again.
April pulls one of the chairs from a small waiting area adjacent to a set of offices. She drags it to Johnny and he places his foot against the door to secure it until he can manage to firmly set the chair against the knob, letting the feet dig into the carpet.
“That’s not going to hold for very long,” he says as his eyes flash with fear. “Follow me.”
As they make their way to the stairs, they hear the door give and the chair lightly thump against the carpet.
“Fuck!” Johnny shouts and pushes April in front of him. “Go!”
They wind their way upward and Johnny notices level twenty-eight as they pass a marker on the wall. Ten more stories and they’ll be on the top floor, and he’s running out of ideas. His legs are burning as he takes each step, but the adrenalin keeps him pushing forward. The image of being devoured by the dead surges to the surface of his mind and he pulls the pistol from his waistband. If he has to use it, he knows he can. No matter what, he can’t let them take her. He watches as her hair tousles along her back in front of him. Blood-stained streaks of blond flash through his imagination. He wouldn’t look into her eyes if he had to do it. He couldn’t bear the weight of her stare.
“Keep going, just keep moving!” he shouts when he hears the dead below.
He can’t let it end this way, he can’t manage another death on his hands.
“We’re running out of stairs, Johnny,” she says, peering up to the final level.
“Go through the door at the top,” he replies, gripping the pistol tighter.
April pushes the door aside. “Where are we?”
“It’s the penthouse,” he answers and pushes the door closed. “They were remodeling it when…” he trails off as the dead bombard the door.
They back away as bodies slam at the door.
“I don’t want to die this way,” April cries.
He looks at the gun in his hand and back toward the door. The sound of the pounding recedes as his heart thumps out a steady rhythm in his chest. He swallows and holds up the gun, aiming it at the door. Fingernails drag in a screeching assault and the knob slowly begins to turn.
“Johnny, over here,” April shouts. “There’s more stairs.”
He turns just as the dead pour through the doorway and runs to April at the base of a small set of stairs situated between steel framing and plastic drop cloths.
She is halfway up the stairs when Johnny reaches her. The moaning dead are already in and looming in the darkness below, shuffling through the doorway and filling the entry.
He reaches out as April opens the door, revealing storm soaked skies and pelting rain. Blue light shivers through the rolling clouds overhead, nursing a boom of thunder in its wake. He slams the door behind him and grabs a length of weathered board from the roof, placing it against the handle as rain slaps his face.
He scours the roof, looking beyond the vents and air-conditioning units. A few pieces of equipment litter the roof. A swing stage lies against the edge of the roof next to a bosun’s chair and lengths of rope used to clean the windows of the high-rise.
In a panic, Johnny sticks the handgun in his waistband and grabs the spool of rope, tossing the end over the roofline. He attaches the other end of the rope to a parapet clamp and fastens it with a knot. He tests the line to make sure it is secure and looks over the edge of the roof, watching the rope dangle in the wind and slap against the side of the building like a thrashing snake.
“What the hell are you doing?!” April asks as the rain courses along her face, creating thin trails of wet hair that dance against her cheeks through the drain of water from her brow.
“We’re going to have to go over,” he replies.
“The hell I am!” she protests.
“We have to, there’s no choice,” he replies as he focuses on the rope. “Once we’re far enough down, we can break one of the windows on the lower levels.”
“Are you crazy?!” She backs away from the ledge. “The glass is shatterproof. There’s no way we can break it.”
“We can with this,” he points to the gun nestled in his waistband. “Those things are not going to fucking kill me,” he grits his teeth. “I would rather die trying than to let them win.”
April glances over the side and bites her upper lip. Her hands begin
to shake as she stares at the ground far below. “Are you sure about this?”
“No, but we don’t have any other options.”
She swings her leg over the edge and swallows hard as she grips the rope. She is near tears as she looks back at Johnny, fiddling with the bosun’s chair, “I love you,” she says.
Johnny stops adjusting the straps and looks into her eyes. “I love you too,” he says and watches her swing her other leg over the edge and descends out of sight.
A gust of wind nearly knocks Johnny over and he hears April screaming. Her voice is hoarse as the terror thrashes in her throat. Her fingers are clawing at the edge of the roof, scraping against the flashing as she searches for a handhold. Instinctively, he leans forward and the gun slips from his waistband. It slips so smoothly that he barely registers it falling along the side of the building. He reaches out, hoping to stop it before it is too late, but the glinting metal only plummets farther away.
·11
“Hold on, baby!” Johnny's voice is booming as he leans out, grasping at the air, trying to grab onto April's wrist.
“I’m slipping!”
He leans farther over the edge of the building, stretching, grasping at her blouse. He’s searching for a hand hold, something to clutch in his fingers, the slightest grip of fabric to pull her to up. Her hair is disheveled, whipping in the wind that roars along the side of the building, brushing against her horror stricken face in clots that drape across her eyes.
“Please, Johnny... Help me!” she screams frantically.
Another gust of wind tears through, thirty-eight stories up, dragging April a few inches in its wake. She screams, cries out again, and pleads for her life.
With a whoosh, the wind turns, the blast slaps the girl against the side of the building; her legs knock hard upon the reflective glass, flailing in succession, causing a hollow thud that reverberates against the window. Her fingers lose their grip and she flails once before Johnny catches hold of her wrist. Droplets of rain glisten upon his hand, beading along the surface of his skin, mingling in with the hairs upon his knuckles. His muscles strain as he supports himself on the ledge by pinning his legs between a water pipe and the flashing of the roof.
“I've got you,” he says, only somewhat relieved as he pulls at her with both hands. “I'm going to swing you over toward the ledge. I need you to grab on when I get you high enough,” he yells.
Tears streak across her face, and her mouth hangs open as if she were trying to reserve one final breath before death takes her. She feels the rain on her skin as the storm builds again. The wetness tingles against her skin, tastes sweet as it enters through her gasping mouth. She thinks this to be the last feeling she may ever have, the last memories of a suffering life, the final reward before she is ripped out of Johnny's grip before she plummets over thirty stories to the waiting concrete below. A shiver runs through her as she imagines herself falling, screaming through the air towards the growing crowd of bodies that ogle at the unfolding scene above.
“Are you ready?” Johnny asks as his grip tightens on her already bruising wrist.
April nods her head. It is the only thing she can manage to do without crying out in dread. She reaches out to her left as Johnny begins to swing her in a wide arch that makes her arm feel as if it were about to snap out of its socket. The wetness on her arm makes Johnny's grip loosen and she slips an inch before snagging the ledge. With her heart racing, she digs her fingernails into the flashing, clutching desperately with the strength she has left. Johnny grabs her underneath her arms, braces himself, and wrenches her onto the roof in one swift movement.
Boom! A slap of thunder cracks in the sky, reverberating through the building like a quake.
Rain falls in heavy successions, battering Johnny in the face as he pants through exhaustion. He holds April tightly in his arms, stroking her hair out of her face, laying kisses upon her cheek, never wanting to let her go. Their throbbing hearts beat against one another, heavy, intent, slowly calming as the panic subsides.
Crack! Lightning sweeps across the sky followed by thunder that sounds like the engines of a jet clapping against the heavens.
“Are you alright?” Johnny holds April's face in his hands, looking deep into her eyes.
Her body shivers. A light convulsion as the terror lingers at the edge of her soul, dwindling down into the recesses of her memory, “I think so...” she answers, gulping in air as if it were her only reason for living.
Johnny pulls her into his embrace, feeling the warmth of her body against his own, relishing the moment. “I've always told you that I would never let you fall,” he says, cradling her head in his hands.
“Forever?” she looks into his eyes.
“Forever and ever,” Johnny replies.
Johnny's attention is diverted to the ledge where the rope dangles off into oblivion. He silently curses himself for thinking that she could climb down alongside the building as tired and weak as she is. Starvation was taking its toll on April's body, making her frail. He feels a fool for ever considering it, for even thinking that she could make it. But their choices were limited. With the ravenous dead slamming against the roof access, it was only a matter of time before they forced their way out. Even now, Johnny could hear their rasping moans as they threw themselves against the door. He wonders how long it will be before they get through, wretched and driven by hunger. The thought of being eaten alive makes him shudder as he scours his mind for another option.
His attention rests upon a ventilation shaft on the far side of the roof, wet and shiny, calling out to him, beckoning him to take the chance.
“We've got to get out of here, baby,” he says, still staring at the protrusion on the roof.
April's attention drifts toward Johnny's gaze, following his line of sight until she realizes what he’s looking at. Her eyes close as she grimaces at the thought of scaling down into the building again, knowing what waits inside. She begins to sob, “I don't want to go in there again. Please, Johnny, there has to be some other way.”
“Listen, we'll be fine. I'll go first. If you fall, I will be right below to catch you.”
April composes herself, takes in a deep breath, and says, “Alright.”
Johnny pulls a small pry bar from his sling pack and begins working on the vent cover, shearing off the screws that attach it to the base. He swipes back his wet hair several times as the rain washes it back into his face and feverishly continues his assault on the fasteners as he hears the dead battering the roof access in the background.
The vent cover falls to the roof with a clang, gyrating against the hardened tar. Johnny looks down the dark shaft, trying to judge its depth. A tinge of fear shakes him when he can't see the bottom. Through the night sky, there’s a lightning strike, followed by another clap of thunder which gives off enough light for Johnny to see deep inside. It goes down for around ten feet before curving off to the left into shadow.
A sudden crash sounds off in the background, making Johnny whirl around in time to hear the roof access door clap against the wall. “Change of plans,” he says to April. “You go first. Support your back against the side of the vent with your legs.”
A look of panic quickly spreads across April's face as she watches the first few cadavers ooze through the doorway.
“Hurry, go!” Johnny screams, grabbing April by the waist before she can react, and places her into the ventilation shaft.
She braces herself against the smooth steel, but slips from the rain on her shoes and falls the full ten feet and lands with a thud.
“Shit!” Johnny exclaims and grabs the vent cover as he shimmies into the darkness. He places the cover on the shaft, over his head and slowly slides downward with a faint squeak of his shoes on the wet metal.
He hears a groan from below as he makes his way down to the intersection of the vent. “Baby, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” April replies through her groan, wincing. “My ankle, I think it might be broken,�
� she says, gripping her leg.
“Try to crawl out of the way, I'm coming down,” Johnny instructs as he hears the first of the dead slam against the vent cover.
Panicked by the sudden sound, April lets out a faint yelp and scoots farther into the vent. “Are they going to get through?” she asks as she braces herself against the vent.
“Probably not for a while,” Johnny answers as his feet make contact with the intersection.
Immediately, the dank smell of dust hits Johnny's nose, and he holds back an impending sneeze. He begins to rummage through his pack, fishing out a small flashlight and turns it on with a click. The beam of light spreads out across the reflective surface of the vent, washing April’s face in a sudden and direct glow. For a moment, they are both blinded, but recover once their eyes adjust. Johnny directs the light onto April’s ankle, and pulls her pant leg up for a better view. Her skin is a light blue, and is already beginning to swell.
“Can you move it?” he asks.
April flexes and turns her foot, wincing at the pain. “Yeah, it moves, but it hurts like hell.”
“It's probably sprained.” His face tightens in desperation.
“Don't look at me that way,” she says.
“What way?”
“…like I'm already dead. I can make it, it's just a sprain,” April says, irritation marks her voice.
“I wasn't. It's just...”
“That I'm going to slow you down?” she accuses, her anger surfacing.
“Listen, we have more pressing matters at the moment,” he says. “Either we wait here and get eaten, or we keep moving. If those things get through, their numbers will slow them down, but I doubt that vent cover is going to hold them for long.”
April's lips tighten in frustration, but she swallows her anger and makes her way along the shaft. The vent feels like a coffin; tight and confined, restricting as April pushes forward. Long, thin shadows play in front of her as Johnny points the light between her legs, trying to guide the way. Ahead, she notices another intersection like a crossroads. Disillusioned, she looks back and asks, “Which way?”
Waiting to Die ~ A Zombie Novel Page 10