There was a loud crash against one of the windows, and Juan whirled around to see the dim outline of a zombie with something quite large in its hand banging against the leaded glass.
“Shit!”
The front doors were set down at street level. Stairs inlaid with marble rose up to the lobby floor from the entrance. The only windows Juan had any concerns about were the ones framing the doorway. The rest of the windows on the first floor were at least eight feet above the street. More zombies were picking up items to smash into the windows and doors. It was as if they understood that living flesh would be within their reach if only they could break through.
The construction crew worked faster. Four people were spreading cement, laying brick, and then spreading more cement. Other workers kept refreshing the bins of cement while yet more handed down the bricks.
“Juan, we have cracks in this window,” one of the men said. Juan motioned to those standing nearby with guns to take up new positions. “Keep them covered.”
“Faster, faster,” people were saying to one another as they worked.
Juan wiped the sweat off his brow and looked at the right window. He could see long cracks in the glass. The shady figures behind the frosted window were banging on it with large, heavy objects.
“Concentrate on that window,” Juan said.
Overlapping each other in their haste, the four bricklayers struggled to seal off the window. The new wall was almost five feet high when the first chunk of glass fell out of the windowframe. The workers hesitated, then kept going.
The guards looked nervous. “We can’t get good shots with people in the way,” one of them said.
Juan realized it would take some keen shooting to deal with the increasingly dangerous situation. “Nerit, I need you down here,” Juan said into the walkie-talkie. “We’re going to have trouble hitting the zombies.”
“On my way,” she answered.
Over the sound of the workers placing bricks, Juan heard another chunk of glass fall out of the window. “They’re pushing on the wall,” said his cousin Monica as she set another brick into the cement. “I can feel it.”
“Shit!” Juan ran down the stairs and put his hands on the wall. He could feel it shifting under the force from the other side. “Shit, they are.”
Motioning to Ken, he said, “Brace the walls.”
“I’m on it!” Ken waved to a few construction workers that were helping pass along the bricks.
Another chunk of glass crashed down, and a hand pushed through the gap between the broken window and the new wall.
“Watch out!” Monica yelled.
Juan ducked but the zombie grabbed his hat and yanked it out of sight.
“That was my lucky hat!”
Monica slammed two more bricks into place. She was protected by a pair of heavy gloves and by the fact that in their desperation to get into the hotel, the zombies were struggling with one another to reach through the opening in the window.
Ken and his crew braced the walls with sheet metal and lumber.
The window continued to shatter under the zombies’ relentless assault. Decaying hands appeared above the heads of those working on the wall. No one dared lay more bricks now, though Monica used her trowel to stab at one hand as it dislodged a brick.
“Keep going,” Juan said.
“What?” Ken yelped. “They’re coming in!”
“Not yet,” Juan answered, and picked up a trowel. “They can’t bite us that high. They’ll just try to grab our hands. We’re wearing gloves. Keep going.”
The workers hesitated and then nodded, acknowledging that he was right. They went back to work, and the wall grew again. The bricks were laid as quickly as possible, given that the dead on the other side kept trying to grab the trowels and gloved hands of the workers.
The window on the other side of the door, where no one was working, cracked.
“Hurry it up!” Juan lifted the walkie-talkie. “Nerit, where are you?”
“Eliminating your problem,” Nerit answered after a beat.
“What?” Juan said, feeling confused.
Monica was laying a brick when a zombie hand grabbed her wrist firmly. Yanking at her, it pinned her against the freshly made wall. Screaming, she struggled to get free.
“Taking care of your problem,” Nerit repeated.
Suddenly, Monica fell away from the entrance, the zombie hand still attached to her arm, but now severed right above the wrist.
“Now leave me alone. I have a dozen more to take out,” Nerit said.
Juan laughed and ran a hand over his curly hair. He imagined Nerit standing in a window high above, systematically killing the zombies gathered at the front of the hotel.
The moans dissipated and, finally, ceased. The dark shadows disappeared from the windows and suddenly the room was eerily silent.
“All done,” Nerit’s voice crackled over the static.
Juan looked down at the walkie-talkie, then looked at Ken. “She’s a tough old lady.”
Ken nodded. “She scares me.”
“Good thing she’s on our side. Now, let’s get these walls done!”
5.
Upward
Nerit leaned over the balcony railing and made sure that there were no more zombies moving below. Bodies littered the street and were bunched up around the front door. It had taken some time to eliminate all of them, but she felt a sense of satisfaction at their demise. There was only one “living” zombie left, the gigantic one impaled on a lamppost. She was leaving him alive for a reason.
Her task complete, she moved back into the hotel room. Much to her surprise, she saw an old woman gazing at her with an intense expression on her face. Abruptly Nerit realized she was looking into a mirror. Her hand flew up to her face as she stared at her worn countenance. She had slipped so thoroughly into her role as sniper that she had felt young again. It was like a slap not to see the powerful blonde she had been when she was in the Israeli army, but instead, the older, stern woman she had become. Her eyes still glinted fiercely, but they were now surrounded by fine wrinkles.
Well, enough of vanity. Ralph had found her quite lovely in her old age, and that was all that had mattered.
She dismissed the old woman in the mirror and walked out into the hallway. This floor had been cleared, and blue checkmarks adorned all the doors. Moving at a quick pace, she felt at ease; her gun was a cold, comforting presence in her arms.
As a young child growing up in Israel, she had been acutely aware that the world was not always kind. Her mother was a survivor of the concentration camp where most of that side of the family had died. Her father often said that he felt Nerit had inherited her mother’s finely tuned senses and fighting spirit. He had taught her and her brothers to shoot when they were all very young and had been thrilled when his young daughter immediately showed an uncanny ability to hit the bull’s-eye every time. Soon he had her enrolled in competitions, and many of the photos of her childhood were of her and her father standing proudly beside a shooting trophy.
Ah, her father … how she missed him. He had raised her to be strong and confident. Not once did he try to dissuade her from pursuing her dreams. Her marksmanship had thrilled him. When she had been awarded a medal for her valor in the Six-Day War, he crafted a fine little display case for it.
His only disappointment had been her decision to marry instead of pursuing riflery and attempting to make the Israeli Olympic team. She wondered how he would feel about her role in this bizarre afterlife of a once-thriving planet. Her medals now were the shattered heads of the walking dead. Her accolades, the thanks of those she saved. There was no real victory now, just the heavy burden of doing what must be done.
Thoughtfully, she turned and headed up the stairs. How vividly her father’s face came to mind. She knew he would be proud of her and how she was handling her bitter responsibility. Had he not raised her to defend her people and do what was right?
And the people in this fort we
re her people now. Nerit and her first husband had moved to America in the mid-eighties. When he died, leaving her a single mother, she had remained in the country to build a life for her children. She married a second time; her husband relocated the family from New York to Texas, where they had settled in Fort Worth. Some years later, he divorced her for a much younger woman, and to clear her head, she had gone on a hunting trip with some good friends. During that vacation, she met the love of her life, Ralph Toombs. He had brought her to that wonderful hunting store in the hills of Texas. Grown, her children said amicable good-byes and returned to Israel.
Nerit had firmly believed she would live with Ralph until they both left this world, but instead, Ralph had gone on without her. Now she was fighting for her life and the lives of others in a makeshift fort in the middle of nowhere.
Sometimes, she thought wryly, it was as if they were playing some terrible game of cowboys and Indians, hiding in their fort made of odds and ends. Of course, in this case, if the Indians breached the walls, they would eat the cowboys alive.
Entering the ninth floor, she began following the blue checkmarks on the doors. The teams were moving more swiftly now that the end was in sight. She hoped her fellow survivors were not being rash.
Going around a corner, she saw all the teams at the end of the hall. Some were clearing another room; Katie and Travis were hanging back slightly, covering the ominous-looking double doors that led upward to the last floor and its opulent ballroom. One of the doors was slightly ajar, but Nerit could see only darkness beyond it.
“How are we doing?” she called out.
Katie turned toward her and smiled slightly. “Okay. We haven’t found anything up here. I don’t think anyone got this far.”
Nerit strode down the hallway, ignoring the pain in her hip and the numbness in her toes. She hated getting old. “We still need to be careful.”
“Room’s clear,” Jenni said as she stepped into the corridor. She was hobbling, but trying not to look like she was. The poor girl was really beat up, but Nerit knew she was a scrappy fighter. When they’d first met, Jenni had seemed to be on the edge of a breakdown, but somehow she’d pulled away from it. Yes, she was still a bit crazy at times, but Nerit had a feeling that it was what kept her going. But then again, weren’t they all a little crazy now?
“We’re heading upstairs,” Curtis said as he drew the check-mark on the door. “We’re almost done. Juan took a team into the basement so he can get the power on. I sent Katarina, Felix, and Shane down to help.”
Katie headed toward the double doors, her pistol held firmly in one hand. “I just want to get this over with.”
Travis said, “I hear you there.”
When Jenni moved, she favored her injured leg. Curtis took her arm to help her. Nerit raised her rifle as Katie neared the double doors. The pricking on the back of her neck had triggered her reflexes, and she trusted her instincts.
Before Katie could open the door all the way, a maid pitched through the gap, right into Katie. Flinging up her arm to protect herself, Katie fell back. From the moment the maid appeared, time seemed to slow for Nerit. Each movement was distinct and vivid to her. She could see the female zombie shaking her head, trying to rend flesh from Katie’s arm as Katie screamed and Travis lurched forward to pull the zombie off.
Nerit became one with her rifle as she had so many times before and through its eagle eye, saw the top of the zombie’s head. She fired and watched a blossom of blood explode into view, then dissipate.
Travis kicked the dead zombie away as Katie stumbled back, staring at her arm.
“She bit her! She bit her!” Jimmy yelled, near hysteria.
“No!” Jenni rushed forward.
Nerit swung the barrel of the rifle toward Katie, and her friend’s beautiful eyes danced before her like jewels, lovely and sparkling with life. Then Travis’s back blocked her scope. He had stepped between her and Katie.
“Travis, move away,” Nerit ordered.
Travis paid her no heed and shouted, “You can’t! You can’t!”
Nerit took a step to one side to get a clear line of fire. Katie was such a lovely girl and Nerit adored her, but she had a job to do. Katie would not want to become one of the undead. It would be a great injustice to such a strong woman.
“Nerit, no!” Travis once again blocked Katie from view.
Jenni sobbed uncontrollably, one hand pressed over her mouth.
Nerit could hear Katie whispering Travis’s name softly, a sob in her voice.
“Travis,” Nerit said firmly. “Step aside and let me do what is right.”
“It didn’t go through!” Travis whirled around. “The bite! It didn’t go through.” He had stripped off Katie’s denim jacket and now held her bare arm out for everyone to see. Bruises were already forming from the pressure of the zombie’s mouth and hands, but there was no sign of the skin being broken. The heavy fabric of the jacket Katie had been wearing was intact and had protected her.
“Thank God!” Jenni cried out, and flung her arms around Katie. Katie, looking dazed, held tightly to the dark-haired woman.
Nerit lowered her rifle and walked deliberately toward them. She felt hope rising within her, but could not yet give in to it. At times, she hated the cold splinter that sliced through her soul, the place she could go when she needed not to feel and not to care. It had always been there, even when she was a child, even when she was with her beloved father. She was the woman who did what must be done.
Taking Katie’s arm lightly in her hand, she turned it this way and that. Her keen eyes examined the brutal purple and green bruising. No puncture. No broken skin. No wound.
Stepping back, she nodded.
For a second, she let herself feel the pure joy that came from knowing that she would not have to release Katie from this nightmare world; then she shoved it away.
There was work to be done … .
“Let’s move on,” Nerit ordered, turned on her heel, and started up the stairs to the ballroom.
6.
The Top of the World
Travis wasn’t sure he knew how to breathe anymore. Seeing the zombie lurch out of the darkness and fasten on Katie had been one of the worst moments of his entire life. In fact, he was pretty sure this day was responsible for all the worst moments of his life.
From the dining room massacre to Jenni’s appearance on the balcony, he had felt his hold on his emotions slipping. He had not experienced the sheer horror of the first days, and to him, the zombies had mostly seemed far away and impersonal. But today, there was no denying their absolute power to terrify and destroy.
Moving slowly up the stairs after Nerit, he struggled not to hate her. He resented her hyperawareness of all that was around her and didn’t understand how she could coldly deal with situations that made him feel ready to shit his pants. He hated how easily she killed people who had been her friends when the worst happened.
Yes, he offered to kill Jenni when she had appeared to be a zombie, but that was to spare Katie. Even now, he wasn’t sure he would have pulled the trigger. No, if she had tried to kill Katie, he probably would have been able to take Jenni out. But all this shooting and killing were far removed from how he had been raised. It did not come naturally to him as it did to Nerit or the others.
He looked over his shoulder at Katie and Jenni. Both of them were bruised and favoring injured limbs. Guilt ate at him. Though the leadership of the fort had agreed to take over the hotel, it had been his call to enter today. It was his decision that had brought about all the death and pain of the day. Now he desperately wanted it to be over. The worst part was that because of his feelings for Katie, he lived in terror not only for his own life, but also for hers. Every moment was nerve racking. He was madly in love with her and if he lost her, it would be devastating.
Stepping into a vast foyer, he was startled by the sunlight pouring through high windows. The storm was receding over the hills to the west. The marble floors of the entr
yway shone beneath a fine layer of dust, and an ornate gold-gilded metal ceiling gleamed overhead. An enormous, sparkling crystal chandelier threw diamonds of light all around.
“It’s beautiful,” Jenni sighed.
Roman goddesses were tucked into alcoves, and plush red velvet couches adorned a few walls. Bouquets of dead flowers rested on small tables. Ahead of them were sets of French doors that opened out onto a patio that encircled the entire top floor. To their right were the restrooms, which they swept quickly and efficiently. Gleaming and empty.
“When we are done, I’m so using the ladies’ room,” Jenni said firmly.
Nerit motioned to the ballroom. “We’re almost done.”
The doors to the ballroom were wide open, revealing a room with an ornate fireplace and high vaulted ceilings. Chandeliers sparkled overhead. Heavy red curtains were drawn back from the windows to let the sun pour through gauzy white organza sheer curtains. Now that the storm had passed, the room was awash in sunlight. On the far end of the room, there were French doors that opened to the patio. Old-fashioned, short-legged chairs with plush velvet seats were neatly stacked against one wall.
Nerit led them into the room. They were careful to look along the walls beside the doors as they stepped onto the thick carpeting.
“Perfect for a wedding.” Jenni sighed again.
“That’s what it was used for in the old days,” Curtis said. Travis felt slightly overwhelmed by the opulence of the room. Its elegance was almost too much of a contrast to what his life had become down in the construction site. He looked at Katie, who was turning slowly, surveying the ballroom. Even bruised and exhausted looking, she was beautiful. He wondered what it would feel like to take her in his arms and dance with her in a room like this.
The group thoroughly scoured every corner of the room for zombies. Travis was tired and desperately wanted to be done with their mission, but he was careful to check behind the potted plants, stacked chairs, curtains, and tables.
“Nothing,” Jenni called out from across the room.
As The World Dies Trilogy Box Set [Books 1-3] Page 43