The abysmal gaze was broken by Chester’s sledgehammer connecting with the crawler’s ribs and sending it flying across the hall away from them.
“Thanks Chess,” Greg said swallowing deep.
It screeched at Chess.
“Sorry for ruining the reunion,” Chester smirked flipping it off.
The storm had reached the blue eyes.
It attacked again, this time at Joanne. She screamed as it jumped on her. She tried to fight back against it. It’s oral fluids dripped down to her face as it screeched right into her face. Greg took a mighty swing at it with his axe.
“Leave her alone you bastard,” he thundered, clearly enraged.
It instinctively dodged the swing, not falling for it this time around.
This was the first time Randy or Joanne or anyone for that matter saw Greg enraged. His face wore an intimidating look. The blue sea was bubbling with rage. His larynx now produced a deep gravelly tone.
The crawler sensed his growing rage. But it was indifferent to his feelings.
It’s gaze was fixated on Greg and Greg only. Greg pulled out a bottle of alcohol and dipped a cloth in it. He lit up the cloth and the fire earned him another screech from the disgruntled crawler which clawed at their eardrums.
It lunged at him again, clearly irritated. Randy took the opportunity to fire some more nails as it was concentrating on Greg. Most missed but one clipped it’s leg, right in the knee, slowing it down.
Greg tossed the makeshift Molotov at it as it attempted to jump on him getting caught in mid air.
The glass bottle shattered on impact with the crawler soaking it in the unholy union of alcohol and fire immediately setting it ablaze. It crashed to the floor, a few feet away from Greg.
It’s screeching sounded more desperate and painful as it madly danced about. It’s abysmal eyes reflected the flame consuming it. It thrashed against the wall and rolled on the floor manically possibly hoping to douse the flame.
It let out another screech. This time it was loud enough to crack a window.
Greg wasted no time and tossed another Molotov at it. The intensity of the flame was reinvigorated and crackling of the fire began to drown out it’s voice and it’s resistance.
Finally it collapsed to the ground as it’s pale skin turned black, like the murky blackness of the night. Its charred remains lay on the floor as it released a sooty odour. Everyone took a breather as Greg stared at the corpse huffing. His revenge was complete and most satisfying.
“Umm guys?” Dana called gazing out of the window.
All stepped towards the window to see what piqued her curiosity.
Gonerz. Legions of them.
“That final shriek was probably to call them,” Greg said as he observed them entering the building. “We’ll need that drum of alcohol now.”
The sound of gonerz rushing up the stairs echoed through the silent halls. Then the first of them appeared. They paused for a moment, as if to gauge the situation and then some of them ran and some of them strolled towards them.
Joanne, Dana and Westwood dashed into the chemistry lab and with a combined one-two-three, carried it out into the hall.
Everyone began tossing their molotovs at the legion. The molotovs definitely proved to be advantageous in the restricted hallway. The ball was in their court. With each passing moment their confidence rose.
The molotovs created a wall of fire which proved quite a test for the gonerz. The guys could feel the heat from the flame on their cold skin.
The number of gonerz was slowly increasing and the charred bodies of the first wave of gonerz served as an insulation for the rest to step through. Randy began to put down the few that began making it through.
Greg added as much chlorine as he could into the drum of alcohol.
The fire began thinning out and more began to pour through the openings.
Looking up he said “Run!”
Chester tossed one final Molotov towards the back hoping to slow them down in one last ditch effort and Sean left a matchstick burning near the drum.
As they made their way down the stairs the gonerz began to run past the drum.
Boom!
The drum exploded with a force enough to blow away nearby gonerz and the matchstick ignited the spray of alcohol from the explosion resulting in a fire. The fire travelled through the scattered droplets of alcohol to form a blanket of fire covering a large area.
The guys ran down back to the first floor.
“We’ve got to hide! There’s no way we can outrun them!” Randy said searching for a place to hide.
“The lockers,” Sean said pointing towards a row of full sized lockers painted with a dull green shade. Everyone picked a locker and hid themselves in their new safe zones hoping that the gonerz wouldn’t be any wiser.
There was no way out now. They were trapped. They were out of tricks.
What do we do? Think! Greg thought looking through the three slits in the locker. It’s nearly sunrise. Wait. Wasn’t the crawler affected by light? Maybe these things are too....That’s all we can hope for now anyways....Our phones are dead too. Shit.
The sound of feet descending down the dreaded flight of stairs found itself to their ears. They were now on the hall of the first floor. Like prefects the gonerz monitored the halls for any strays. But the punishment in this case was death. Worse even.
They approached the lockers, the metal bins not really piquing it’s interest. Some peeked inside a classroom.
Their faint figures walked past the lockers one by one prompting everyone to hold their breath and remain dead silent.
Dana’s heart pounded furiously against her chest. She thought it was loud enough for the fiends to hear.
A goner suddenly peeked into the three slits of Dana’s locker. She gasped in fear as the two lifeless eyes looked straight at her. She covered her mouth to muffle any noise that may escape her lips.
It was too late.
It grunted and tried to put it’s finger through the slits to no avail.
Dana screamed, “NO!!! HELP!!” and began to cry uncontrollably.
A thin metal door separated her from life and death. Literally.
It began to pound against the metal door, the door proving to be less than a match for the goner. The door began to dent inwards coming in contact with her stomach.
Her cries grew louder and tears streaked down her face forming small puddles on her grey pullover.
The gonerz all approached her locker. A meal looked imminent.
“DANA!! GODDAMNIT!!!” Randy shouted fists clenched.
The hand no longer wanted to grab Dana. Instead it collapsed to the floor. Her bawling was interrupted by a familiar noise. The gonerz turned away to face something-someone.
Gunfire Randy immediately thought.
He wanted to jump out immediately but would possibly get caught in the gunfire. The guns were silenced but the noise is definitely gunfire. But who was it? The Police? The Army? Harbinger? A group of survivors like them? He began to consider who it could be and why.
The gunfire went on for a solid five minutes. When the guns fell silent, silence finally reigned after what felt like eons.
Distinct tapping of boots now filled the hall. A flashlight lit up a nearby wall. His heart thumped with anticipation.
The sound stopped.
His locker was suddenly flung open and a bright light filled his eyes causing his eyes to protest and snapped them shut. Reducing them to slits he managed to see a man wearing a gas mask pointing an assault rifle at him. With a solid grip the masked man pulled him out of his confinement and examined him from head to toe.
The man was in army greens. And so were his two friends. They examined the remaining guys.
The men all wore gas masks and were heavily armed.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” the masked man said patting Randy on his shoulder.
Randy was surprised. He couldn’t recognize the voice. It was muffled courtesy of the
gas mask.
The man took off his gas mask.
Randy gasped.
“Dad!” Randy exclaimed in surprise and embraced his father as tightly as he could.
“Argh you’re gonna kill me,” he chuckled reciprocating his hug.
He looked at Greg. “Hey kid, you look well.”
“Better than most I guess,” he laughed at his own joke. “Are we glad to see you.”
He then looked at Professor Westwood. The professor avoided eye contact and chose to look at the floor instead.
Joanne whispered to Greg, “Who is that?”
“That’s Randy’s dad.”
Everyone was still dumbstruck.
“I’m Captain Roland McReed,” he announced looking at everyone. “This is Sergeant Major Jonathan Hastings and Private Karim Mahrez,” pointing at the men next to him.
Roland was as tall as his son. They shared the same short black hair but their faces were different. Roland was built solid just like his son and was a veteran. Jonathan was of similar build but slightly shorter. Karim had a wheatish complexion and was built like a tank.
“How did you know we were here?” Randy asked.
Roland sighed. “We didn’t. We searched the cafeteria first. It was your last known location and we hadn’t been updated since. But we heard of lot of commotion and we saw fire coming from the second floor of the engineering block. So we rushed here as fast as we could. I’m so glad you guys are alive. I thought I lost my son forever.”
“Is that a nail gun?” Roland asked looking at Randy’s hand.
“Yeah well we needed something to fight back,” he frowned.
“Guess those lessons are finally paying dividends huh,” Roland said smiling.
Dana stared at Roland with great adulation.
“Does that mean the army’s here?” Sean asked stepping forward.
“Just the three of us I’m afraid,” he said analyzing Sean. “We’ve got to go. It’s a warzone here.”
“We need to get to the Biotech block first,” Greg said firmly.
“Why?”
“We need answers.”
“Sir, we need to go,” Sgt Major Hastings said stepping between Greg and Roland.
Roland thought for a second. “Right, Biotech block it is.”
“But Sir, the Colonel is waiting for us,” Sgt Major Hastings said.
“We lost communication with the Colonel. It means something’s off. It’d be wise for us to wait for some time.”
Hastings thought for a second and nodded.
“Alright, let’s go,” Roland said.
The group ran down the stairs with Roland taking the helm and Sgt Major and the Private taking the rear. They carefully exited the building scanning the area.
“To the right, this way,” Randy said pointing towards the right after exiting the block.
They jogged precariously as the soft grass muffled the noise of their movement. Few gonerz in the immediate area gave chase. Some slow some fast. The soldiers quickly dispatched their speedy pursuers without as much as a whoosh.
A strip of orange slashed the horizon. The murky blackness faded into a beautiful indigo just above the rising orange. The innumerable lights in the black sky began to fade steadily.
Finally, Greg thought as he closed his eyes for a second and took in the first of the fresh morning air.
The blackness made way for the majestic trio of orange, yellow and red. The cold morning breeze brushed delicately against their tired skin. The grass sprang to life and glistening dew drops delicately caressed the fragrant roses. The morning air was packed with a rejuvenating positive vibe, refreshing the tired minds and aching muscles.
The gonerz weren’t affected by the sunlight and they continued to give chase, at their own merry pace.
The guys looked towards the left, towards the auditorium. It was quite far away from their position. The gonerz surrounded the structure hoping to get a meal.
Most of the survivors must be holed up in there Greg thought as his sweat drenched polo shirt began to cool rapidly under the cold spell. His legs began to feel heavy with every step and he was sure everyone was feeling the same.
Just a bit further Joanne thought as her thoughts bounced with every step. The soldiers with all their heavy gear weren’t even breaking a sweat.
Randy jogged behind his father as he stared at the solid back of the man he called dad. A strange sense of warmth hugged him, a feeling almost alien to him. It was a childish thing but having his father with him made him feel safer. A faint smile found itself on his face.
Professor Westwood huffed and puffed with each step but managed to keep up. Maybe all the pipe smoke did little to help his lungs.
At a distance they could see a clearing of trees. Large, brawny trees with sprawling branches and leaves creating a belt of shadow. Beyond the shadow belt, above the foliage stood a big white building. It wasn’t enormous but it was apt.
Roland spotted movement in the black belt. Silhouettes drifted aimlessly in the shadows. Roland immediately loosened his body and raised his rifle to chest level with one hand, keeping an eye out for the shadowy lurkers.
“Hastings, Mahrez,” he called flatly.
“Sir,” they responded in unison.
“Multiple tangos. Quick and silent.”
“Copy.”
“I can help,” Randy said.
“It’s alright son, we’ll take care of it,” he said without turning back.
The two men at the back flanked out with their rifles raised. The black paint on the rifles didn’t even reflect the rays of the rising fiery ball in the sky.
Taking aim, the rifles produced a forcibly muffled noise, barely audible. The silhouettes fell one after another as they reached the edge of the shadow belt. The trees looked much bigger up close. In fact they looked ginormous! This gigantic wall of trees was breathtaking. The leaves silently swayed in the cold breeze.
“Clear,” Hastings said looking down his scope.
“Clear,” Mahrez repeated shuffling his weight from one foot to another.
Roland remained silent and scanned the shadows with this scope. He silently nodded and moved forward precariously. This time walking with measure. His men followed suit and walked along the flanks. They didn’t want to be surprised either.
They entered the shadow belt and were eclipsed in a film of shade.
Randy turned towards his left, his finger was trigger ready. His features froze when he noticed a large silhouette standing maybe fifty feet away.
“Hey,” he called tapping his father on the shoulder.
They turned towards the left.
Nothing.
“What’s wrong?” Roland asked.
Randy stared at the spot where he saw the silhouette.
“There was something over there,” he said.
Roland stared at the spot. “There’s nothing there son.”
“We know all too well at this point that the shadows have been fucking with us.”
Roland was slightly taken aback at his son’s language but let it go given the circumstances. Everyone needed to vent out their bottled frustration. That and Randy was an adult. Not like it entitled him to use a slew of cuss words if he ever felt like it
Roland looked at Hastings and motioned him towards the direction.
Hastings turned towards his left and proceeded towards the spot where Randy thought he saw something.
Roland trained his gun that direction; if anything were to pop up he would send it to the afterlife.
Hastings kneeled over upon reaching the spot and picked up a broken twig. It had been split in the middle.
As if someone had stepped on it. Must be the freaks he thought upon a visual examination.
He turned to his left and right to double check. Nothing apart from the falling leaves.
He signalled back to his Captain shaking his head.
“Nothing there,” Roland said convinced.
Randy remained silent
and then let out a hot breath of air.
“Let’s go,” Roland said.
The group exited the shadow belt and into the light. The sun’s intensity increased as time passed. The cold breeze was turning warmer. The building seemed closer than ever. There were a few gonerz around the building. There was no other activity to make note of.
Roland once again raised his rifle. His men did so too and they squeezed the trigger putting the gonerz down like rabid dogs.
“Reloading,” Mahrez said as he disposed off the magazine and put in a new one. The golden coloured pointed bullets reflected the sunlight brilliantly before they went into the black gun.
With a metallic click-clack he raised his gun again.
They pushed on towards the white building. A board which read Biological Sciences Block greeted them. They made their way around the board. A path of cobblestones were neatly laid out making it’s way to the stairs of the entrance. The grainy stones contrasted beautifully with the lush trimmed grass. Walking up the stairs they reached a glass door with a metal frame. The glass had a calming blue tint which provided a soothing effect. Roland peered through the glass inside.
“Looks like no one’s home.”
“We are so fucked if we came all this way for nothing,” Chester said his nostrils flaring.
“The doors locked,” Roland said trying to open the door.
“Great,” Josh mumbled dropping to his haunches on the tiled entrance.
Roland ignored the pessimism.
“Can’t we just break it?” Chester asked impatiently.
“No we cannot. The gonerz can waltz right in if we do,” Roland said meeting his gaze.
Chester shook his head in disapproval.
Roland stepped away from the door to think of what to do next. He spotted a couple of police cars parked near a small building a few hundred metres away.
“Campus police?” he asked looking in the direction.
“Yeah,” Randy said joining his father.
Sean stepped up to the door and began to turn the knob.
“The doors locked genius,” Chester scowled.
Sean kneeled to analyze the lock. “Does anyone have a hairpin?”
The Outbreak Page 9