Dead, but Not for Long

by Kinney, Matthew

  “It’s worth a try,” Snake replied as he pressed a boot on a zombie’s head and pulled a long metal rod from its eye socket. “But we’ll have to make it fast.”

  “Dudes!” he yelled in a booming voice. “Hop on your horses. We’re gonna have a roundup!”

  Lindsey joined them as Snake and his men got on their bikes. As they pulled away from the parking lot, she turned to watch as more and more of the infected fought each other to get outside, hunger evident on their faces. She shuddered at the sight. They had once been people just like everybody else, but now they existed for only one thing - to feast on human flesh.

  As the dead began to fall back, some of the bikers slowed down and waited, staying just close enough to keep the horde’s attention before moving away again.

  ~*~

  In the office building, the group of survivors huddled around the window as they watched the parking lot below.

  “Look at all of them. There were hundreds of them in here with us. Thank God we didn’t try to leave.”

  “We should tell Chuck what’s going on,” a woman said.

  “Chuck’s dead. We haven’t heard anything from him for days,” someone replied.

  “I hope that’s not true. He seemed like a decent guy.”

  The woman walked over to the vent and yelled to Chuck, telling him what was happening, just in case he was still alive.

  ~*~

  Chuck almost jumped when he heard the woman call to him. He’d been hearing their voices whenever one of them got close to the vent, but they hadn’t tried to contact him for a while. He tiptoed over and listened to what she had to say.

  He was happy to hear that a rescue attempt was being made by those at the hospital. He wanted the others out of his building, one way or another, but if they could be rescued, even better. He harbored no ill will toward them. He just didn’t want them getting their hands on his supplies.

  He paced the room, wondering if he should go. With the military bombing the city, the hospital might be one of the few safe places left. Then again, if that were the case, would they dare hit his building, being so close? Doubtful. The powers-that-be would want to leave roads open, providing access to the hospital. Destroying his tall building would cause quite a bit of debris to fall and would surely block the road. They would never do that, he decided. He stepped over to the vent, wanting more information but he turned and walked away in frustration. If he let them know he was still alive, they might try to rescue him. And what if those at the hospital weren’t the good Samaritans that they claimed to be? What if they were nothing more than scavengers, looking for more loot? Just because they had told those on the eighth floor that they’d been in touch with the military, didn’t mean it was true. It could all be a story to gain the trust of those in the building.

  If it was the truth and the military had promised not to hit the hospital, then his building would surely be safe as well. If it was a lie, then he was wise to stay hidden. Either way, staying was the only smart option.

  Chuck leaned close to the vent when he heard voices again. Someone was telling the woman to give it up because he was obviously dead. Let them think that, he thought. Soon he’d have his fortress all to himself.

  ~*~

  The bikers obviously had their hands full from what Keith could see. “It’s hard to believe there were that many of them inside,” he said to Autumn.

  “My Grandma said she grew up in a little town in, I think it was Minnesota,” Autumn said.

  Keith glanced at her, wondering if she was changing the subject, but she continued.

  “When she grew up, she moved to New York City. She said her apartment building had more people in it than her home town.” She looked down at the pen that she was twirling between her fingers.

  “That had to be some serious culture shock,” Keith said. He liked his house and wasn’t sure he could live in a building full of so many people. “Does she still live there?”

  “She died before my parents did.”

  “Sorry to hear that. I lost my grandma a few years back, too. I still miss her.”

  Keith watched as the headlights moved away from the building, the infected following. The streetlights illuminated a steady stream of the dead that just didn’t seem to end. He sent a message to update those in the office building and waited for a reply.

  “Ready?” Keith asked Autumn. He began to read the dots and dashes to her then when the message was done he looked it over.

  “They want to know if it’s safe to come down and I’m not sure what to tell them,” he said. “I’ll see what Snake thinks once the bikes stop moving.”

  ~*~

  Snake rode ahead to the crest of a small hill and turned his bike around to shine his light back the way they’d come. With the help of the street lights, he could see the infected still pouring out of the building and the surrounding areas. They looked like a stream of ants marching into a flowing river. He was amazed how creatures with such primitive instincts could somehow understand enough to follow each other to the source of their yearning. The moans of a thousand undead echoed through the dark of the early morning composing a dirge that only added to the despair that hung in the air like thick smog. He had become the pied piper of the dead. He could lead them for miles, but he knew that they would probably be back. He had to figure out how to destroy them.

  Wolf and Lindsey pulled up next to him and watched the bizarre parade march toward them. “Too bad we couldn’t trap these things in a warehouse or something, and, I don’t know, maybe burn it down,” Wolf said.

  Snake’s eyes lit up.

  “That’s a great idea,” Lindsey said, glancing back at the mass of lumbering bodies. “Corral them somewhere. But do you think fire will kill them? It should work if it’s hot enough to destroy the brain, shouldn’t it?”

  “I’d like to think that a good fire would boil their brains,” Snake replied. “Even if it doesn’t, I think it would burn off enough body parts to at least slow them down. I’d really like to get them into a building and collapse it on top of them, but I ain’t got no dynamite.”

  His radio beeped and he answered, listening to Keith’s question. He was in a dilemma. The infected were still following the majority of his men away from the building, and he didn’t dare thin the troops any more, but he still wasn’t sure how many of the ghouls, if any, had stayed behind. By the sound of it, the survivors weren’t armed.

  Snake looked at the small group before him. He trusted Wolf with his life, having known the man for many years. In fact, he couldn’t think of anybody he’d rather have beside him in a fight. Lindsey had proven herself in the office building earlier and, as she had pointed out herself, she was fast. The fourth member of the group was Smiley, who had recently joined up with Snake and his men. He’d held his own in the fights they’d had with the infected so far, but Snake thought that the man must weigh three hundred pounds and it wasn’t muscle. He hoped that Smiley could run if it became necessary.

  “This might be up to the four of us if you guys are up to it,” Snake said.

  He nodded toward the mass of infected that were still following the larger group of bikers. “I say we circle back around and hope most of those things follow our rolling lunch wagon over there.”

  “I’m in,” Wolf said. Lindsey also agreed to go along.

  “Can’t let you guys have all the fun,” Smiley said with a grin, flashing his gold tooth.

  Snake radioed Moose, who was the lead man on the convoy, and pointed out a large warehouse building in the distance where he hoped they could lead the horde. It was an older building that seemed to have very few windows, but several large overhead doors that could be opened to allow the dead in, then secured. He only hoped it was unlocked. He watched as the lone biker sped ahead to investigate.

  “Keith?” Snake keyed his radio. “We think that most of them are gone but tell them to hold on for a few more minutes. We’re heading back.”

  ~*~

 
When Keith got the message, he promised he would pass it on. Grabbing his flashlight, he started to reply and got as far as saying, “We think most of them are gone, b . . .” Then the batteries died.

  “Oh, no,” he glanced at Autumn. “They’re going to think it’s safe to leave. Autumn, we need batteries, pronto. Can you help me find some?”

  He was trying to stay calm but he couldn’t handle the thought that the survivors in the other building might end up dying over a couple of bad batteries.

  ~*^*~

  ~37~

  On the eighth floor of the office building, the group continued to watch out the window, discussing their options.

  “Look, the person in the hospital said that most of them are gone. Let’s just go.”

  “We have no weapons,” another replied. “I think we need to get a clear answer first. The last message sounded unfinished.”

  They used their flashlight to ask again if it was safe to leave, but there was still no reply.

  “Let’s wait a bit longer, just to be safe,” someone suggested.

  “But not too long or the deadheads will start to come back.”

  ~*~

  Chuck frowned when he heard the sound of engines. Maybe that’s what had caused him to wake so early, he thought. They weren’t military vehicles or helicopters. They sounded more like motorcycles. He hurried to the window and looked outside, shocked to see a long line of headlights moving down the road away from the building. It couldn’t be a coincidence, he thought. These bikers had to be involved in the alleged rescue. He’d seen them a couple times, zipping around on the streets, and he’d hoped that they were just passing through, but apparently no such luck.

  “Rescue, my ass,” he muttered, shaking his head. The others had bought the story, but Chuck was no fool. The biker gang had obviously taken over the hospital and who knew what devious plans they had in mind for those inside the building? Anarchists, he told himself. They were probably enjoying the chaos, having no accountability anymore. He worried about what they might do to those on the eighth floor. He took a few steps toward the vent, wanting to warn them, but then he stopped. Would they even heed his advice? And if they did, would it matter? They’d already alerted this biker gang to their presence. If he let the others know that he was alive, they might tell the bikers. That thought almost sent him into a panic. They’d come up and take his stuff. He couldn’t let that happen. Frantically, he began to move furniture against the door, knowing that he might not have much time to fortify his apartment.

  ~*~

  By the time Snake and the others reached the office building again, it was getting late. Lindsey was worried about going back into the building in the dark, but they didn’t have much choice. The sun would be rising by seven and they were running out of time.

  “Let’s shut the bikes off this time,” Snake said. “The light will only help us when we’re in the lobby and it’s sure to draw attention. I think we need to do this as quietly as possible.”

  Once the engines were shut off, the small group found themselves in something close to silence. There were the ever-present moans in the background but other than that and the whispered conversation of the group, the morning was still. Lindsey thought about how strange it seemed not to hear the sounds of traffic and the normal noises to which she had become so accustomed. She wondered if the world would ever be noisy again.

  Snake picked up his radio when it squawked and he listened as Keith told him that they’d lost contact due to dead batteries in the flashlight. They spoke a bit longer and Snake put the radio away.

  “We’d better make sure we know what we’re killing,” he advised the others as he entered the foyer. “Could be hard to tell the difference between a freshly risen zombie and a white collar dude stuck in a cubicle all day.”

  He pulled out his flashlight and checked it again, though he’d already tested it before leaving the hospital. “I bet Keith wishes he had the bunny batteries, too,” he said. He shined his light across the lobby until it reached a stairwell.

  “Is this the way you went?” he asked Lindsey.

  “This is it,” Lindsey said, nervously. She walked over and closed the door to one of the halls while Wolf did the same to the other.

  “I should have done that last time,” she said. “It would have saved me a whole lot of grief.” She was prepared this time, gun in hand. She hoped she wouldn’t have to use it, but if the need arose, she would be ready.

  “You need to tell me what happened when we get back to the hospital,” Snake said, moving toward the stairs with the others close behind. “I have the feeling it’s going to be an interesting story.”

  ~*~

  Moose, who had been sent to scout the building, reached the warehouse and dismounted. He pulled a sawed-off shotgun from one of his side bags and carefully surveyed his surroundings. The place was quiet. He yelled a couple times, hoping that any dead close by would be lured out into the open where he could either take them down, or run like hell, depending on their numbers. When nothing took the bait, he tried a few doors until he found one that was unlocked. Slowly, he opened it, shining his flashlight inside to reveal a vast warehouse partially filled with tires. Several large overhead doors lined each side of the building, with a small office in the corner and a door leading to the other side of the building. After searching the office, he radioed his friends that were leading the undead procession.

  “This is perfect,” he reported. “I’ll leave one of the big doors open. Lead them in and we’ll escape through the office and out through the back door. Should be a breeze.”

  He continued to survey the scene while he waited for the horde to arrive. The building was large enough to hold a small rock concert. Concrete piers stretched from floor to ceiling for a couple hundred feet. He could see that the columns were aging as stress fractures spider-webbed across them. The ceiling, about 30 feet up, seemed to sag. He couldn’t believe the place hadn’t been condemned, and he was sure it wouldn’t take much to bring it down. The question was . . . how?

  ~*~

  Snake crept up the stairs, pointing his spear ahead of him, with his skeleton crew in tow. As he climbed each step, his flashlight jerked, causing shadows to jump along the wall. Each landing had a door that led to vast darkness and each time he came to one that was open, he cautiously reached for the door and closed it so that no stragglers would follow them up. Twice they had to stop and kill off crawlers that were blocking the doorways. Snake could almost feel the time ticking away and he began to wonder if they’d make it within their deadline. There was no way he was going to abandon those in the building, but if the dawn arrived before they reached the top, he’d try to send the others back to the hospital and finish the rescue himself. Knowing his men the way he did, they would not leave, and he had the feeling that Lindsey wouldn’t, either. That made him even more determined to get everybody out quickly. He didn’t want any more lives on his hands.

  The stench of death permeated the stairwell as he approached what remained of a rotting carcass. The smell almost made Snake gag as he looked away and pulled his shirt over his mouth. When he looked again, a pair of lidless eyes was staring back at him.

  When Snake stopped, Lindsey ran into him then backed up. She peeked around him to see the remains of a person and she shuddered at the sight.

  “He’s dead, right?” she whispered.

  ~*~

  Autumn was the one that found the new batteries and Keith thanked her, quickly putting them into the flashlight. He sent the message at once, telling the others that a group was on the way up to help them but that they didn’t know if all of the infected were out yet or not.

  ~*~

  “Yes and no,” was Snake’s answer to Lindsey. He held his makeshift spear in front of the corpse and its eyes followed. The flesh was completely gone on the right side of the head, but the left still had some meat. The exposed tendons seemed to tighten and loosen in an instinctive attempt to bite, but the jaw only
moved sideways. Snake placed the spear over one eye socket and thrust it into the creature’s brain, causing the exposed tendons to immediately relax. Pulling the spear from the socket, Snake continued up the stairs.

  The mostly dark stairwell made Lindsey nervous. Her previous close call had scared her badly but she had not for even a moment thought about not helping to complete the task at hand. They were coming up on the fifth floor and with any luck they’d be heading back down shortly and be back to the hospital before she knew it.

  Smiley, who was struggling with the climb, had to pause and catch his breath, which gave Snake an excuse to slow down. His legs were aching and he was a little too out of shape to be climbing so many stairs. He stopped in his tracks and Lindsey again bumped into him.

  “Did you hear something?” he whispered. The bulky biker’s breathing was the only sound to be heard.

  “Stop breathing!” Snake commanded.

  Smiley held his breath.

  ~*~

  As the parade of undead continued their trek toward the warehouse, Moose searched the back of the building. There were what appeared to be service bays, large enough for heavy equipment. Around the corner, he found several backhoes and an asphalt paving machine. He was hoping for a machine large enough to demolish the building while the undead were locked inside, but none of the equipment seemed powerful enough. Then he saw the pavement roller. He climbed into the cab and smiled when he saw the set of keys dangling from the ignition. A few minutes after fumbling with some levers, he was back inside, waiting in the cab of the machine.

  “Guys,” he radioed. “We may not have to burn the building down after all.”

  He sat upon his perch on the roller watching his friends rumble into the service bay then move through the office and out the back door, one at a time. The ghoulish procession followed. Moose saw the last biker pull the office door shut and he watched as the frenzied horde piled up behind it, scraping and clawing. Several minutes later, someone else quickly closed the large overhead door, trapping the crowd inside the building with Moose. He watched as they mercilessly trampled each other with a blatant disregard for civilized behavior.