Douglass and April walk over to the cellar door and wait. Dennis navigates the stairs with very little light. At the bottom of the steps he turns and sets the cooler down in the dirt. He then reaches directly above his head and feels along the rafters. His hands stop when they reach the touch of cold metal. He feels down the side of the object and reaches underneath. He pulls a small box from the underside and opens it in his hands.
Light fills the dingy basement when Dennis strikes a match. He then reaches up and lights the lantern hanging above his head. A soft yellow glow fills the room illuminating unfinished dirt walls, and makeshift shelves. Off in one corner a pile of animal furs can be seen. They have a heavy coat of dirt on top. In another corner there is an assortment of cans and jugs. The other wall is lined with fire wood. Dennis can hear his wife and son coming down the stairs now. They set the two bags in the dirt next to the cooler.
They return upstairs carrying lamps, a can of kerosene, and three small lanterns without saying a word. Dennis was the first to break the silence.
“April, get these lanterns filled and work on water. Sun will be going down before you know it. Dennis and I will work on boarding up the windows.” April nods, taking the lanterns from her husband. She sets the lanterns down on the rustic dining room table. She then retrieves the can of kerosene from her son. She waits until she sees her husband returning from the basement carrying an armload of planks before speaking.
“How long are you figuring on staying up here?” April asks rubbing her husband’s arm. She follows him into the living area. “What about food, what about medicine.” Dennis sets the wood down in the middle of the room, stands up and stretches his back. He takes a handkerchief from his back pocket and wipes the sweat from his brow.
“Well, we can hunt, we can trap, and we can fish. If I recall, the Coopers had a garden behind their cabin, maybe Doug and I will check it out tomorrow. Medicine, shit, I guess in a couple days, maybe we’ll take a run into town and see what that looks like, but I don’t know about that one.”
“Wish we’d had more time to prepare.” April peeks out the front door but sees nothing but trees.
“Hon, we did just didn’t know we were supposed to.” Dennis walked over to the cupboard and removed a Folgers can from the shelf with a piece of masking tape on it that simply read nails. “Won’t take long to get these windows sealed up. I’ll take Doug out, we’ll set a couple traps.”
“We’re going to be okay out here, aren’t we dad?” Douglass asked.
“Course we are son. Pappy used to bring me up to this cabin when I was a boy. Used to stay up here for months at a time sometimes. And you hardly ever see anyone else up this way. Hell, the nearest paved road is nearly five miles from here.” Dennis messed up his son’s hair. His son’s eyes followed him with admiration as he strode out of the room.
East Moline Indiana
Saturday August 17th, 12:21 PM
A car racing by like a bat out of hell is what finally cleared out the Burger King parking lot. They came up the street and almost wrecked due to the overflow of undead around the Burger King. Thankfully they were able to make corrections and continued on down the street drawing most of the undead along with them. Most of them had been asleep at the time of the drive-by. Gary stood at the edge of the building, his police boots grinding on the gravel on top. He struggled to lower Joel down the side of the roof. The plan was to lower Joel down quietly, let him exit by the back door, so he can sneak around to the Suburban parked out front. Then he can pull around back where they could jump down covered wagon style off the back wall that lined the drive-through which was several feet lower than the roof.
They had tied several shirts together to allow Joel to be lowered down off the roof so that he could drop quietly behind wall encasing the dumpsters. This part of the plan worked flawlessly. He stood on the ground and gave the thumbs up. Gary kept the ‘shirt rope’ dangling off the side of the roof should Joel need a hasty escape. Joel walked along the side of the building and pushed the metal door to let himself out onto the walkway that parallels the drive-thru. He kept looking behind himself to make sure nothing was following him, unfortunately he neglected to look inside the restaurant where there were numerous undead stuck inside.
Joel screamed aloud when they started smashing against the glass. They could do nothing but watch as Joel ran the wrong way up the drive-thru. The window broke behind him and nearly a dozen undead spewed from the opening behind him.
By the time they were giving chase Joel was around the corner. He was jumping into the front seat as the group came around the front door. They were still several feet away when he accelerated away from them.
Gary, Nancy, Robert, Andrew, Walter, and Sarah all stood at the edge of the building, just above the Burger King sign. They watched the light blue Suburban rock back and forth after hitting a curb. The mass of undead following close behind. They all expected him to turn right and come back to get them. They were all surprised when he turned left and disappeared from view.
“He’s coming back right?” Nancy asked. No one responded. “Robert? Where is he going?”
“How the hell should I know? He wouldn’t just leave us here. He’s coming back.” Robert stated defensively.
“What is he thinking?” Gary asked. Seconds later they saw the Suburban racing back down the street. It swerved recklessly into the parking lot, fishtailing and striking another car in the parking lot.
The Suburban finally came to rest under the half wall, one by one they jumped down and got into the SUV. Gary pushed Joel out of the way and took the driver’s seat. Joel had a terrified wide-eyed look about him that Gary recognized the look as someone who had just shit their own pants. Gary didn’t say anything, none of them did. Joel was the one who finally broke the silence.
“Told you that turn was dangerous Andrew. It’s a blind corner with that shrub there. That’s how Tara got hit last year.”
“It’s only a blind corner if you come tear assing around the corner like a maniac” Andrew replied as if defending the restaurants landscaping was part of his managerial duties.
“Where to boss?” Joel asked.
“Police station.” Gary responded.
“To the police station?” Joel asked.
“To the police station.” Answered Gary “But we’re going to stay on the outside of town.”
“Yes sir.” Gary knew this route would take him right past his house. He was silent about that fact, however. When they came to his neighborhood and it was completely overrun. They had to pull away fast.
Ten minutes later Officer Gary Ford walked through the doors of his home station, and for the first time he had his weapon drawn. Nancy, Robert, and Joel followed in his wake. Andrew and the young couple opted to stay in the car. The office is scattered with corpses, though none appear to be moving. He purposefully tries not to look at any of their faces. He thought it would be worse if he had confirmation that the corpses were his brothers at the department. Gary pauses seeing something moving behind a desk on the right side of the room. He creeps cautiously through the room it became apparent that the movement was one of the dispatchers. Her name was Rosa, she had a husband and two kids. Her legs looked like they had been hit with a shotgun blast. They were shredded from the knees down. She was straining and pulling at the carpet trying to get to Gary, but not making much progress. Gary brought down his boot on the back of her head crushing her skull. There was an audible gasp behind him. Gary couldn’t tell, and didn’t turn around to see who it was, but it sounded feminine.
As they made their way to the back of the station, they saw bullet holes in cubicle walls. Bullet holes through computers, and bullet holes in the ceiling. Gary pushed through a door that had a white stick figure man and said locker room underneath. The yellow tile floor is slick with blood and water. The air is a pungent combination gunpowder and copper. A trail of blood leads through the room to the showers where Gary’s shift supervisor, Sargent Oren McDermo
tt lay against the wall dead. His service revolver still cupped loosely in his right hand.
“Looks like he was the last.” Gary said holstering his handgun. “Shot himself in the head.”
“Yea, but he’s got bites, there, and there.” Pointed out Joel.
“Probably didn’t want to turn.” Added Robert.
“Yea.” Nancy and Robert agreed behind him.
“Armory is back this way, everyone stays on their toes.” Gary bent down and took the keys of SGT McDermott’s belt. He picked up the service revolver from his hand and found every shell spent. He tucked it in the back of his pants and kept moving. They passed through another room in the back of the locker room. It took a key to open the door to get into this hallway. It took another key to get through the room labeled Armory, and yet another for the weapons cage.
It also occurred to Gary that he had never opened the weapons cage to a group of civilians. “Take what you feel comfortable with. There are a dozen sniper rifles there, I think we should take at least one or two of those. The boys walked in with eyes as big as saucers. The packed-up rifles, shotguns, handguns, and as much ammunition as they could carry. Within a couple minutes they were walking out armed to the teeth. “Grab these bags here too, this is the riot gear.” Gary pointed to a row of black bags that lined the floor. They each had S.W.A.T. imprinted on the end.
“Good idea.” Says Andrew.
“So, we’re armed, what’s the plan now?” Asked Nancy.
“There’s a gas pump out back, we need to load up on gas. There’re also a few cases of water stored back there. Figure we’ll head out into open country, avoid major cities, look for somewhere we can fortify and make safe.”
“Good a plan as any.” Robert agreed.
Pittsburgh
Saturday, August 17th, 1:29 PM
It took a few hours for the crew to clear out the #1 stairwell, while they were working the power failed. Just moments ago, they cleared enough that the boys could crawl over the furniture that blocked the stairwell leading them down to the 2nd floor where there is a set of double doors leading out to the meeting rooms. This was to be, as Mark described it, the most dangerous point. If this point were to be overrun while we were in the basement, they would be completely cut off from the guest floors. Margaret and Jackie stood by at the 5th floor stairwell, ready to block it up if something other than the guys tries to come back up the stairwell.
John, Mark, and Herb descended cautiously onto the second-floor landing. Thankfully the stairwell was a ways away from the door that leads out to the meeting rooms. Even with the twenty-foot difference it still felt too close to the hoards of undead that lingered below. The group continued down two more flights until they reached a grey metal door that lead to the garage it had P-1 written in white spray paint.
Moving through the garage they all kept their heads on a swivel, and their weapons ready. Mark had the pipe wrench, John had the axe, and Herb had the length of pipe. No movement could be seen in any of the corners of the darkened garage.
“Wish we’d done this before the power went out, I can’t see shit.” Herb whispered.
“I know.” Mark responded.
“There, John said pointing to the far corner of the garage. They all looked towards a yellow hummer parked in one of the corner valet spots.
“That means the keys are by the front door, we can’t get there.”
“Herb, do you think you can hotwire it?”
“I’ve never tried, but I’ll give it a shot.” They moved to the hummer, John and Mark watched as herb went to the back side of the vehicle. All the doors were found to be locked. “Going to have to break a window.”
“Don’t. Mark, look.”
“Oh fuck. Herb, stop.” Herb stopped and looked over top of the vehicle. Atop the ramp at the front of the hotel a group of several dozen undead can be seen moving past. Their moans drift down the ramp echoing through the garage chilling the souls of the men hiding there. The ghoulish figures silhouetted by the light stumble past. John, Mark, and Herb stand frozen in place behind the hummer for several agonizing seconds waiting to see if they would turn towards them or keep going. Eventually it looked like they were all gone. They waited to make sure it stayed clear before Herb went ahead and broke one of the rear windows.
The moaning sound flowing from the streets became immediately louder.
“No. They heard. Go. Go!” Mark said starting to move. As they reached the halfway point back to the stairwell the undead had blocked out the light coming from the top of the ramp. They were clambering over each other trying to get down the ramp. It looked as though some had fallen and caused a pile-up.
“Go! Go! Go! Run! Run! Run!” Herb yelled as they sprinted across the parking lot. None dared turn their head to look behind them. They could hear and feel the crowd of undead surging behind them. The moaning and scrambling from the dead were so loud inside the garage the sound seemed to reverberate inside the entire building like a small earthquake. It seemed to reverberate inside their heads. Finally, the dark blue door appeared in the darkness. So abruptly that they almost couldn’t stop before running into it. Their feet skidding in the dust as they fumbled for the handle.
Herb got one peek through the crack of the door before it was pulled closed. The dim light from the ramps was almost completely obscured by the flood of humanity that was coming. The door had only just closed when the door, the room, the entire building seemed to shake from the force of the impact. The boys retreated up the stairwell quickly, as they moved past the second floor. Though it seemed completely unreasonable later, all three would later admit to fearing that the door would give way. Mark was able glance out and see that the second floor did appear clear. Back up on fourth floor, they had to climb back over the barricade, which proved more difficult than the decent.
After several minutes of significant effort, and at least one Winnie the Pooh joke directed at Mark, the men finally emerged back on the 5th floor where Margaret and Jackie waited anxiously. John was the first to be aided out of the blockade.
“Well, the garage is out.” John said wiping the dust off his clothes.
“Shit, what happened?” Margaret asked.
“We broke a window trying to get into a vehicle, and they heard it. The garage is filled with them now. God, there were so many.” Mark responded with a huff as he was still trying to transverse the barricade.
“Nothing we can do about that now. At least you’re safe. They pulled Herb free, he turned and sat on the nearest step. Jackie stepped in and helped Margaret pull Mark free of the obstruction. John leaned against the wall letting out a deep exasperated sigh.
“Well, we’re going to need a new plan.”
Bitterroot Valley Montana
Saturday, August 17th, 2:57 PM
Deep snoring resounds off the cement walls of Jeff Covemaker’s underground bedroom. A crack of light spreads through the room as Terry opens the door. The light flicks on and Jeff immediately stirs, shielding his eyes from the light.
“Sorry to wake you so early brother. David called a meeting.” Terry said.
“Fuck me. What time is it?” Jeff asked.
“It’s three o’clock. David wants us downstairs in a half hour.”
“Something up?” Jeff asked swinging his feet out onto the floor. His legs were thin and pale. He pulled on his long white tube socks.
“Local reports started coming in. Sounds like it might be at our doorstep soon enough.”
“Shit. That was faster than we expected. Did the group make it back from the base?” Jeff pulled on his pants and reached into the hamper at the bottom of the bed for a ‘clean’ shirt.
“Not yet, but we were in contact with them less than an hour ago and everything was okay.”
“Good. Good.” Jeff pulled on his shirt and lit a cigarette. “Well did someone at least make some grub?”
“Yea, Marla’s got pasta on warm and some nice sourdough bread.” Terry said.
“
Ah, breakfast of champions.” Jeff said with a grimace. “How ‘bout some coffee?”
“Think that can be arranged.” Terry said helping him to his feet.
At the end of the hall they turned and walked up the stairs. They saw Sandy with her two children coming the other direction. They were both very blonde and had very blue eyes, they always kind of creeped Jeff out, because the reminded him of the kids from The Shining. He didn’t think he was the only one that thought it either. Sandy nodded and smiled as she passed.
In the kitchen a large group had gathered at the table. Jeff walked to the counter and fixed himself a cup of steaming black coffee. He blew on it and sipped carefully as he took a seat at the large wooden table. A few eyes darted his way, but the conversations continued on. Jeff couldn’t help but overhear a conversation going on between Bertha, Ben Starlings’ obese loud mouth wife, and another woman he wasn’t familiar with. Bertha was going on about some gossip about one of the other wives and how she had eyes for another man. She just kept going on and on, Jeff found it incredibly annoying. Jeff wished someone would engage him in conversation so he could try to tune out her obnoxious voice. His prayers were answered, sort of, when Misty Mae Conklin stormed into the room out of breath.
“Trouble at the base!” She heaved “They’re on the radio now.” Everyone jolted up out of their chairs and hurried out the door. Moments later they were gathered around a short-wave radio set up in the living room. The living room is a large seating area, there are several couches, all of which look second hand. There were chairs lined up against the walls for extra seats. Each section of wall is adorned with either nature photos, or mounted animal heads.
“Mac, Levi Carson, Bret Paisley, and Shane Newnan are all dead.” Gunshots pop in the background. The crowd is visibly shocked, several gasps resound through the room. “I don’t know how were going to make it back to the truck! There are so many of them! They just came out of nowhere.” More gunshots, more gasps.
The Z Strain Page 14