Zombie Uprising Series (Book 3): The Citadel

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Zombie Uprising Series (Book 3): The Citadel Page 7

by Robbins, M. A.


  13

  Zeke raced over. "A bunch of undead just ran into this building."

  "Shit." Jen waved Grant over. "We need to watch that damn door."

  "Command One to Hotel One and Three. Disengage."

  "Roger, Command One. Hotel One Disengaging."

  "Hotel Three disengaged."

  Grant joined them. "What's up?"

  "We may be getting company," Mark said. "Zombies have entered this building."

  "How many?"

  Zeke wrinkled his nose. "I lost count. They were coming in too fast."

  "Then make an educated guess," Mark said.

  Zeke closed his eyes and held a finger up. Mark looked at Jen and rolled his eyes.

  "Maybe fifty, but could be as much as a hundred," Zeke said.

  "Command One to Alpha One. Target grids Victor Tango Zulu eight to fourteen."

  "Oh, shit," Mark said. "We need to get out of here."

  "What?" Jen asked. "What is it?"

  Mark sprinted for the door. "When they talk about targeting, they're talking artillery. And since all the zombies are in our area…"

  "Command One to Alpha One. Commence firing."

  Mark grabbed Jen's arm. "Come on, Zeke."

  Explosions on the street rattled the building. Jen lost her footing on the vibrating roof, but Mark kept her upright.

  Grant had the door open and they all ducked inside. Mark let go of Jen and whipped out his flashlight. "The zombies went into the buildings, so Butler's going to destroy the buildings to take them out."

  He shined the light on a door to the stairway. "Grant, take point."

  "Butler knows we're here," Jen said.

  Mark pointed at her. "Exactly."

  Grant had his flashlight out and entered the stairs. "Zeke, you're next."

  The building rocked, and Jen fell backward into a wall. Dust and debris fell from the ceiling.

  Butler's going to raze these damn buildings to the ground. If he can't get us to leave, he'll just kill us and claim the zombies got us. The asshole.

  Jen ran onto the stairs, with Mark behind her. She drew her pistol and followed Zeke. Grant had already made it to the first landing.

  "Don't get too far ahead," Mark called out.

  Grant waited, peering down the stairs. Just as Jen reached the landing, he looked up, his eyes wide. "They're coming. Three floors down."

  Another blast hit the building. This time Jen kept her balance, but just barely.

  She opened the door to a hallway and shooed the others in. Closing the door, she pushed past the others and opened the first door she found.

  A copier room. Several plotters and printers stood against a wall, while metal cabinets lined another. She waved the others over. "Plenty of room in here."

  Mark was the last in and closed the door. "Everyone in the corner."

  They set up shoulder to shoulder, firearms aimed at the door. Jen peeked out the window next to her. The movie theater on the other side of the intersection was gone, and in its place lay an enormous pile of rubble. Across the street, the building where she'd seen the leader had lost its top two floors. Flames licked its sides. Down the road, the smoke was so thick, she couldn't see crap, but the chunks of wood and stone in the road gave her a clue to what she'd find there.

  Another strike on their building hit below them.

  "Command One to Alpha Two. Zero in on coordinates given to Alpha One and let go with everything you have. I don't want a building left standing in that area."

  "Roger, Command One."

  Jen keyed the radio. "Jen Reed to Command One. Come in."

  No answer.

  "Jen Reed to any unit. Please respond."

  "Echo Three to Control. Northeast perimeter is secure."

  "Control to Echo Three. Copy."

  "Dammit. This is Jen Reed. We're in the area you're about to bomb. Cease fire."

  "Alpha One to Command One. Coordinates input."

  Jen sprung to her feet. "Fucking radio isn't transmitting. Either we go now or we end up buried under this damn thing."

  Grant cracked the door open. "All clear." He turned around. "I'm with Jen. At least we have a chance with the zombies."

  "OK," Mark said. "Let's get back on the stairs, same setup with Grant at point. We don't stop. If we hit a horde, we fight our way through it or die."

  Grant flung the door open and darted down the stairs, with Zeke on his heels. Jen entered the stairwell and glanced above. Two zombies had turned and headed their way. She nudged Mark and took a shot at one of the zombies just as the building took a hit. Shit.

  Mark took out both zombies with head shots, but missed one on his first try.

  "You're still handy to have around," she said.

  He gave her a little push. "Go."

  Grant and Zeke had made it to the next landing. Holding onto the rail, Jen took the stairs two at a time. Grant and Zeke continued pulling away and she picked up her pace. Don't want to get separated.

  Her breath came in ragged gasps by the time they reached the third floor and the building took another hit. Somewhere in the darkness the stressed structure emitted a low groan.

  Grant and Zeke stopped halfway down to the second floor. They had their rifles up and firing. A flood of zombies ran up the stairs. Jen took out several, but even with all of them shooting, there were too many targets. Fifty zombies? More like a couple hundred.

  Grant and Zeke backed up until they stood on the landing with the others.

  "No way we can take them all," Grant yelled.

  Another barrage hit the building, knocking down several zombies. Pieces of wall fell on the stairs.

  Mark opened the hallway door. "In here."

  "What the hell?" Jen said. "We'll be trapped there."

  "We'll take the stairs on the other side," Mark said.

  "How do you know there are stairs on that side?"

  He pointed to a sign on the wall for emergency evacuation procedures. Sure enough.

  Jen raced down the hallway, a stitch in her side. She reached the other stairway door, readied her pistol, and shoved the door open.

  Nothing.

  She waved the others over. "It's clear."

  Zeke and Grant sprinted to her, while Mark closed the door and joined them. "Let's hope there's not a leader with them."

  Grant hesitated. "Where do we go when we get to the first floor?"

  "What?" Zeke asked.

  "Where do we go?" Grant repeated. "We can't stay in the building or we'll be buried, and we can't go outside with the shells hitting out there and buildings collapsing into the street."

  "Shit," Jen said.

  Zeke clapped his hands together. "I know. The basement."

  "Are you fucking crazy?" Grant yelled.

  "We'll be crushed down there," Jen said.

  "Not if we take the sewers out of here." Zeke smiled.

  Grant planted his hands on his hips. "How the hell do you know there's a sewer?"

  "While all of you were asleep last night, I found a computer in an office, pulled up the internet, and read everything I could about this city." He pointed to his head. "A good ninja gathers all the information about the enemy and the battlefield that he can."

  Mark laughed. "You're a genius."

  Grant clapped Zeke on the shoulder. "Let's go, buddy." He raced down the stairs. Zeke gave Jen a thumbs-up and followed.

  Jen reached the first floor just as Grant opened the door to the basement stairway. He shined his light down it. "Dreary looking."

  "Not as dreary as it'll look when the building comes down," Mark said.

  Another hit shook the building. Jen braced herself and stayed on her feet. The hits were coming every minute or so.

  Two more strikes came moments apart—one not far above them and one in the street.

  "Down," Mark yelled.

  Something knocked Jen off her feet and onto her back. Her pistol skittered across the floor.

  Her reflexes kicked in and she pu
t her hands out in front of her just as a thirty-something zombie in a shredded business pantsuit landed on top of her. It opened its mouth and snapped its jaws.

  Jen coughed at the smell. It had been over a week since she'd been hit with that stench.

  A shot went off close by, and the side of the zombie's head exploded, spraying blood and bone across the floor. And on my shirt. Jen rolled the corpse off her and grabbed Mark's outstretched hand. "Thanks for the save."

  Mark handed her pistol over. "Let's go."

  Zeke appeared at the door. "What happened? We heard a gunshot."

  Jen waved him back. "We're OK." She brushed past him and stood at the top of the stairway. Pulling her flashlight out, she turned it on then shined it down the stairs.

  Musty and narrow, the concrete stairway went ten feet down, then took a ninety-degree angle to the left.

  "Where's Grant?" Jen asked.

  Zeke stood behind her. "Bottom of the stairs."

  Mark pulled the door closed. "You go first, Zeke. You know the way."

  They joined Grant at the bottom. He and Zeke shined their flashlight beams across a large basement. Shelves jutted out from the walls on one side, while boxes were stacked on another.

  "Let's split up and find the damn sewer entrance," Jen said. "I'll go straight. Zeke and Grant, can you take the right side and check around those shelves?"

  They spread out and approached the shelves.

  Jen looked at Mark. "The left work for you?"

  He grunted and nodded. "Keep your eyes open. If you see anything, sound out."

  Jen swung her beam back and forth in front of her and eased forward. They had to get out of there fast, but it wasn't the time to take chances either. The strikes on the building were muffled down there, but it wouldn't be that way for long.

  Zeke and Grant talked as they wound through the shelves. Mark moved boxes around, but otherwise stayed silent.

  Jen reached the far wall. Office furniture and equipment were stacked in a far corner, and Jen walked that way.

  Grant yelled and several shelves tipped over. Jen shined her flashlight that way. "You guys all right?"

  Grunts, crashes, and scuffing feet came from their direction. Jen holstered her pistol and drew her axe, then stepped toward the noise.

  Something grabbed her free arm and yanked her back.

  14

  The hand let go as Jen spun and swung the axe. Damn thing sliced through air, the action knocking her off balance and onto the floor.

  "Wait," a voice above her screamed. "We're human. Don't hurt us."

  Jen turned her flashlight toward the voice, illuminating a woman in a dirty business skirt and jacket, her eyes wild.

  Zeke's voice called out. "I've got one."

  Jen glanced to where another beam glowed by the shelves.

  Mark appeared next to the woman. He had his mace in hand. "Who are you and why did you attack?"

  The girl shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm Sharon Watson. I used to work here. Pridger's Accounting on the fifth floor." Her voice squeaked as she said, "Please don't hurt us."

  Grant and Zeke arrived escorting a man in a shabby suit between them. Zeke had the man's arm locked behind his back. "And you?" Jen asked.

  "John Dormand," he said. "Senior partner at Pridger's."

  "Why'd you attack us?" Mark asked.

  "I didn't," Dormand said. "I was hiding and this one"—he pointed at Grant—"tripped over me."

  Mark swung his gaze to Sharon. "And you?"

  "I-I didn't attack anyone," she said. "I heard you talking and knew you weren't one of the creatures. Then I saw your lights. I didn't want to startle you by speaking, so I touched your arm."

  Jen lowered her axe. "Is it just you two, or is anyone else gonna jump out at us?"

  "Just us," Dormand said. "We've been down here for weeks." He added, "I think."

  "You think?" Grant asked.

  Dormand shrugged. "At first, there were four of us and we'd go upstairs and scavenge the building. But it became more dangerous. We lost the other two. Sharon and I decided to stay here until we ran out of food. We haven't seen the sun since."

  Another explosion rocked the building. A large crash came from up the stairway.

  "What's going on out there?" Sharon asked.

  "The army's bombing us," Grant said.

  Jen wiped dust from her eyes. "We need to get to the sewer system. Do you know where the entrance is?"

  "Will you bring us with you?" Sharon asked.

  "Of course." Mark's voice softened. "Where's the sewer entrance?"

  Sharon pointed to a pile of desks. "I'm pretty sure it's underneath them. They've been there for months, but I noticed a manhole cover in the floor before they were stacked there."

  Jen ran to the desks and pulled one off the top. It bounced on the floor, breaking a leg off in the process.

  Grant and Zeke joined in. Jen handed her flashlight to Sharon. "Can you hold that for us?"

  Sharon nodded and lit the desk pile.

  Jen and Mark worked together to pull desks off the pile and out of the way.

  Another strike on the building caused the pile of desks to fall over. Jen smiled. "Butler doesn't know he's helping us now."

  In minutes they uncovered a four-foot-wide manhole.

  Grant stuck two fingers in the manhole cover's notch and pulled. His face squinched and arms strained, but the damn thing didn't move. He straightened, puffing. "Weighs a ton."

  "We need a lever," Mark said. "Crowbar or something like it."

  "I found a metal bar when we first came down here," Dormand said. "Was going to use it as a weapon in case any of those things got down here, but it was too heavy."

  Mark tossed him a flashlight. "Show us."

  The building shook and something heavy slammed the floor above them, causing Jen to duck. "Shit. I thought it was coming through."

  Dormand led Mark to the stairs and pointed the beam to the side. "There."

  Mark picked up and returned with a four-foot piece of rebar.

  Another strike and the floor above collapsed at the stairs. Debris flew into the basement, followed by a cloud of dust. Jen coughed. "We're out of time."

  Mark stuck the rebar in the notch and rubbed his hands together. He grasped the end and pushed down. The cover didn't move. Jen grabbed the bar in front of Mark, and Zeke and Grant ahead of her.

  Dust made it difficult to see the cover. Grant sounded like he was coughing up a lung.

  "Get those lights closer to the manhole," Jen yelled.

  Seconds later, she could just make out the cover.

  "On three," Mark yelled. "Give it all you've got. If we get it up, roll it to the right." He choked and went into a coughing fit.

  Another crash. This one close. The damn thing's about to come down on our heads.

  "One, two, three!"

  Jen pushed down, grunting. It moved, but barely. The bar rose as the others released it.

  The ceiling collapsed not more than ten feet from her. A piece of solid debris struck her foot. Damn, that hurts.

  "This is it," she yelled. "Give it more than you've got."

  Two more sets of hands joined them. "One, two, three," Mark yelled.

  The bar dipped lower and the cover teetered on the other end. "Roll it to the right," Mark gasped.

  Sweat poured down Jen's face and her arm muscles trembled. Teeth gritted, she strained to keep the cover up. It moved, but how much she couldn't tell. Someone let go and the bar rose. Then someone else let go and the weight and strain on Jen's arms were too much. She lost her sweaty grip and the cover slammed down.

  Jen dropped to her knees. She grabbed one of the flashlights and pointed it at the manhole. The cover partially covered the opening, leaving a three-foot gap.

  "We can get through," she yelled.

  A dark figure swept past her and shined a light down the hole. "There are rungs," Zeke said. "I'll go first." He disappeared down the hole.


  The building shivered under another strike. It was in its dying throes.

  Jen grabbed Sharon's arm and led her to the manhole. "Hurry down."

  Sharon nodded and climbed down out of sight. Dormand was next. He hesitated. "What if those things are down there?"

  Jen pulled her pistol and pointed it at his face. "Down. Now!"

  Dormand hurried down the rungs.

  She coughed. Can barely breathe in this shit. "Mark, you and Grant next."

  "What?" Mark said. "No way."

  "No time to argue. We need you both down there in case there are zombies. Go."

  Mark slid onto his stomach and disappeared over the edge. Grant followed.

  The ceiling above Jen let out a deafening crack. Jen jumped into the hole as the ceiling caved in. Pieces of concrete struck her in the head and shoulder as she fell. She slammed into someone and knocked them off the rungs, both of them landing in ankle-deep water.

  Someone grabbed her arms and pulled her away as a ton of concrete and plaster poured from the hole.

  Jen was lifted to her feet and guided farther into the sewer. "This way," Zeke said. She stumbled alongside him, hacking. His flashlight barely penetrated the dust.

  They reached a turn in the tunnel and the dust cleared. Mark stumbled in front of her, Grant's arm over his shoulder. Grant looked as bad as she felt. Sharon stood off to the side with her flashlight on the others.

  Mark let Grant go and the soldier stood, bent over, with his hands on his knees, vomiting. Mark's eyes teared, leaving streaks in the dust on his face. Jen pushed off gently from Zeke. "I can stand." Zeke stepped back as she leaned against the wall. She wiped her face with her arm and gagged. "What the hell did I land in? I reek."

  Grant straightened. "Thanks for falling and knocking me into that shit. And I mean it literally. I think I swallowed a turd."

  "Wait," Mark said. "Where's Dormand?"

  "He went the other way. Said he knew a safe place in that direction." Sharon put her head in her hands and sobbed.

  "What's our next step?" Grant asked.

  Mark examined at Jen. "Your head's bleeding pretty good." He cut off one of his sleeves and pressed it to her forehead. "Hold this."

  Jen held the cloth to her forehead and Mark pulled the ends of the sleeve behind her head and tied it. "You'll be OK. Scalp wounds look worse than they are."

 

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