by Henson, Lynn
“Trabajo?”
“Yes! Trabajo! What time no trabajo?”
The eye opened again and Blake gestured at his wrist and drew a circle around it with his finger. “No trabajo, what time-o?”
“O... a la dos, guey. Two! Two!” he uncrossed one arm and showed him two fingers.
“Oh, ok. Gracias.”
The man returned his arm to its original position and resumed his silent vigil. Blake sighed and walked up and down the hall, feeling more than a little tired and frustrated. He finally sat at the end of the hallway furthest from the other guy on watch and sat with his back to the wall, trying not to sleep. After what felt like an agonizingly long time, he finally got to his feet resolute in his decision to not sleep through guard duty. I’m just going to walk around until two. At the first sign of trouble, I’m going to head right back. He walked back down the hall past the guy who hadn’t moved an inch, headed down the stairs and re-entered the casino.
It still felt alien as it was just too empty and quiet. During his previous trip here, no matter what time it was, there were always people running around with some purpose in mind. Whether it was those who chased the rush of high stakes gambling, or those seeking intimacy by the hour, to those who try to eek out a living catering to decadence, to those that just want a donut at three in the morning, the city and its establishments always seemed to attract these people no matter the time of day.
Blake toured the dimly lit halls, resisting the urge to stop and gawk at the decor as too much inattentiveness might be detrimental to his continued well-being. But without the hustle and bustle of visitors that demanded frequent brief spurts of attention, the statues and silent fountains pushed to the forefront of his attention.
That, and the faint sound of footsteps.
He froze and after a moment, he rushed over to the side of the walkway, climbed up onto a planter full of flowers that matched the decor and crouched next to the female statue that was holding a large fan. His heart was beating a mile a minute as he edged closer to the statue’s leg. He listened, and the steps were definitely coming closer. He looked around him and decided it was dark enough that he could escape notice. He got completely behind one leg leaning up against it and looked in the direction he thought the steps were coming from. A figure came into view and there was enough light to see a silhouette. Dammit. Either that person is really old or they’re looking for someone to snack on. He remained perfectly still as he watched the person carefully. Yeah, definitely looking for someone healthy like me. And it’s not alone. More figures followed the one in the front and they were all headed in this direction.
Blake was so focused on watching these people he almost didn’t hear the soft shuffling behind him until it was too late. He had his arms around the leg of the statue when he turned and saw a small Asian woman with a flat face and a dark complexion dressed in black slacks and a vest with a name tag taking tiny steps toward him like she was trying to keep a turd from prematurely exiting her body. The glazed look in her eyes and the graying skin though instantly told him he had to put space between them, so he used the statue’s leg to propel himself away from the zombie. It worked, and he pulled himself out of reach of the infected dealer but his foot caught the edge of the planter and he fell flat on his face on top of the cool tile floor.
This put him at the very center of attention and though the pace of the ones coming his way remained unchanged, he could feel their dead gazes focus on him filling him full of dread. He scrambled to his feet and scampered away from them, running in the opposite direction.
He ran, aware that he was going away from the hotel rooms the buffet group was sleeping in. He probably could’ve dodged through the zombies that were coming from that direction, but in the interest of not taking risks, he opted to find a path of lesser resistance. After about a half minute of sprinting, he slowed down and found that he’d left the gaming area and was coming up on another statue that seemed to be surrounded by shops.
As he got closer he could see several people crowded at the entrance of a particular shop. He stopped in his tracks and after observing for a few seconds, decided that they were all behaving like infected and it was not some kind of crazy sale. Like that could ever happen in a casino hotel. They all seemed very focused on the shop, so Blake very cautiously maneuvered himself closer to see what they were all focused on.
They crowded around the storefront, all trying to get in, but not making any progress as everyone seemed to simultaneously confound each other’s efforts. Blake edged further around the room while keeping as much distance as possible between him and the undead shoppers. From his new position, he could see through the window. In the center of the store, someone was perched on top of a rectangular wooden shelf filled with snacks. This person was completely surrounded by the infected who were close enough to touch the person, but far enough that it seemed like it was difficult to get a good grip. That must be what hell looks like. If that person lets up at all, they’ll be pulled to the ground and that’s that. He stood watching for a minute while checking his surroundings to make sure he wasn’t getting crept up on. Looks like a girl, black hair. Oh shit, could that be Bree’s sister? He got a little closer and looked on as the girl kicked away one pair of hands only to have to adjust her position to be more out of reach from someone else. Damn, it’s only a matter of time. Should I try to help her? Blake mentally sighed, already knowing that he was going to, but not necessarily how to do it. Maybe there’s an employee entrance or something. He moved around the store and quickly ascertained that there were two entrances, the second of which seemed to be clear of zombies.
He noticed that he had attracted unwanted attention in the form of three borderline milfy women that were walking slowly in his direction. Great. Decision time. He took two steps back and then stopped and sighed. He looked inside the store again and ran all out to the other more accessible entrance. He pulled on the door and it opened immediately. The zombies closest to him noticed him immediately and started to move his way. I haven’t distracted enough to help the girl though. More were coming in behind him, so he climbed up onto the sales counter and looked around.
Unfortunately, the view from where he stood didn’t seem to improve the situation at all.
“H-help me!” he heard from in front of him.
Shit.
“Hi,” he said, even managing a wave.
She froze for a second, looking at him like he’d sprouted another head from his neck. This moment of distraction was almost fatal as one of the zombies grabbed her ankle and pulled, causing her to flail her arms around for balance as she kicked frantically at her attacker.
“I’m going to get you out of this!” he attempted to reassure her. “Just try not to get pulled down, ok?”
She didn’t reply, which might’ve hurt his feelings if she wasn’t still completely preoccupied with trying to kick her way free of the zombie who still had her by the ankle. As she finally kicked the hand that was holding her enough so that he lost his grip, he noted that she was a young girl in her early twenties wearing a black cocktail dress made fancier with a transparent black skirt that went around the ankles and similar fabric covering her arms. She was in good shape but still needed to fill out a bit more in the hips and breasts. She quickly gathered up her skirt to keep the ones besieging her from grabbing it and making her already precarious situation even worse. She looked frantically about trying to keep anyone from getting a firm grip on her clothing or appendages.
He also noted that he had problems of his own.
He looked around saw something that might just work and dove off the counter for it. Shit. This is going to be crazy.
He felt cold fingers graze his body as one of the milfs grabbed vainly at him. He landed just short of the rack of clothing he’d aimed for and dashed underneath it. The rack itself was little more than a metal frame on four wheels. Two shelves hung on either side of the frame on which baseball caps and a duffle bag sat. The shelves the
mselves had a built-in bar underneath the outer edge on which hangers of clothes draped. Already the people close by started grabbing at him but the clothing on the rack confounded them. This rack stood on small wheels so he wasted no time and rolled the rack with both hands towards the shelf with the girl on top of it. The zombies that were clawing at the clothes around the rack trying to get to him toppled over when he slammed into them. They went down easier than he’d anticipated but discovered he had to be more careful about choosing his path as the fallen zombies were still in the way. He heaved the rack to aim at the right side of the shelf the girl was trapped on and shoved forward hard down the narrow aisle crammed full of the undead. The one he hit first fell backward into the ones behind him. “Get down here! Hurry!” he yelled, as he peeked out around the clothes on his rack, trying to find the best way out of the shop.
The girl gingerly placed a foot on top of the rack and crouched down to keep her balance. She shrieked and tottered around as zombies closed the distance to the rack and started batting at her.
“Hang on!” he warned and pushed the rack towards what looked like the path of least zombie resistance.
There was a crash as one of the shelves attached to his clothing rack dropped to the ground. Suddenly the whole rack threatened to fall over to Blake’s right. He heaved in the opposite direction and managed to keep the whole thing from falling over while continuing to build momentum in the direction he wanted to go. The girl was shifting around a lot, so the weight distribution was unpredictable and Blake struggled to keep the whole mess from tipping over which would likely sign their death warrants. After a harrowing few seconds, balance returned and he ran the rack towards the exit for all he was worth.
Zombies were shoved to either side as the rack wedged through the crowd and out the door.
“Eeeeeeeyaaaaaaa!” she screamed from above him. “One of them has got my leg!”
He looked up and a zombie had her by the ankle and was being dragged along with them like some cowboy trying to get onto a moving stagecoach. He poured it on and pushed the rack past the corner of the shop, slamming the zombies head into it. There was a sudden jerk and the rack tipped over and crashed onto its side taking him with it. Shelves and clothes went toppling to the floor around him as he struggled to disentangle himself from the wreck of the clothing rack. He pulled a t-shirt off his head and looked around frantically. The girl had propped herself up with her hands and was desperately trying to pull away from the zombie that still had a death grip on her ankle. She was scrabbling at the ground with her hands and her free leg, but the zombie was anchored on the corner of the shop that Blake had used to try to get him to let go. Zombies were already heading in their direction with more coming out of the gift shop they’d just rammed out of. He grabbed one of the shelves that had fallen from the rack and gripping it in both hands he ran over to the girl and brought the edge of it down on the zombie’s wrist as hard as he could. The hand spasmed at the impact and the girl’s foot slid free from his grasp. He got the girl to her feet by hauling her up with her wrist and started running from the zombies that were all walking slowly towards them.
After about a minute he slowed down to a fast walk, checking back periodically to make sure they weren’t being overtaken as he headed back towards the hotel area of the casino. The strange emptiness of the place started to erode his adrenalin rush and he allowed himself to relax a little.
“Hey! Hey... I think we’re ok,” the girl told him. He stopped and looked back at her and she looked down quickly, a little red-faced. He let go of her wrist and asked, “Are you... ok? Did you get hurt?”
She gave her head a little shake.
“Can I help you get somewhere? Are you with friends or family?” he offered.
“No. I’m... here by myself,” she said in a barely audible voice.
“There’s a group of people upstairs,” he suggested, “You can get some sleep and someone will be standing watch.” He grimaced internally suddenly remembering that he was one of the supposed watchers.
She gave a quick nod and he grinned at her. “Ok,” he said, “It’s just up ahead.” He started walking again and the girl fell in step behind him. He headed back in the direction of the stairwell when a lithe figure moved cautiously into an intersection ahead of him. He moved quickly to the side, reaching back to push the girl to the wall with him. “What? Oh,” she let slip as she suddenly grasped the situation. They watched the person look around and sensing no danger, looked up at one of the directories and then moved in their direction.
Blake watched for a couple of moments longer, and then was sure he recognized the person. “Bree?” he asked as he moved away from the wall.
The figure froze, and he could feel her gaze looking over him in the darkness. “Blake? What are you doing here?”
“Helping you find your sister,” he replied.
Her gaze snapped immediately to the girl behind him, who seemed to wither a little. “I don’t think this is her. I helped her get out of a bad situation and we’re on our way to someplace safer.”
Bree looked at the girl for another second, then sighed. “I’m going to check the buffet,” she declared starting in that direction.
“There’s no one there right now,” he told her, “But we’re going to where they’re resting for the night.” Bree froze in her tracks, “Did you find her?”
“I don’t know what she looks like. Even if I saw her, I might not know it,” he admitted. “Come back with us and check for yourself.” She nodded and the girls followed after him.
They arrived at the appropriate stairwell without further incident and headed upstairs. Bree and the girl immediately tensed up when they saw a figure in the hallway. “Relax,” Blake told them, “He’s the guard.”
“He’s the guard? He’s not sleeping?” Bree pointed out.
“No... no... he’s sharp. He’s probably listening to every word,” Blake reassured them. “Come on, just find an empty room.”
“I’m not going to sleep until I find Kim,” Bree disagreed.
“But if she’s here, she’s probably sleeping.”
“And if she’s not here, then she might be in danger. Might need help.”
“Ok, I get it. What are you going to do?” Blake asked.
“Look in every room,” Bree said, and pushed open the closest door, shined a small flashlight inside, then slipped in.
After a moment, Bree came back out and went to the next room and repeated the process. “I’m pretty sure there’s no stopping her,” he said mostly to himself. “Well? Can you sleep?” he then said to the girl.
“I’ll try,” she said quietly. He nodded and walked down the hall, passing Bree as she finished checking another room. He found an unoccupied room and held the door open for her. She walked in, paused, then turned around, looking like she was about to say something. Then the next second, she looked down as she mostly closed her door, behind which there was a barely audible, “Good night. And... thank you.”
He turned and was getting ready to think about propping himself up against the wall like his partner when he heard scuffling and bumping noises coming from a couple of rooms down. He looked at the other guard who hadn’t reacted at all. “You going to check that out?” Blake asked him.
The guard didn’t even so much as twitch. Blake sighed and moved over to the door. As he was reaching for the knob the door was jerked open and a woman was shoved out. She stumbled into his arms causing them to collapse in a heap on the floor. Confusion turned into panic as he realized the woman was grunting wetly and trying to bite him. He crazily flailed around, brain now at DEFCON 1, shrieking and desperate to get some distance between himself and the woman. After two near misses where the woman almost took his nose off, he shoved the palm of his hand up under her jaw and managed to mostly take that method of attack away from her. He wedged his foot between himself and her belly and with a grunt of effort, managed to catapult her off of him. He got to his feet and looked around fo
r a weapon or something. Except for the female zombie, the hallway was completely empty. Even the guard had vanished. Damn. He’s good. He pushed inside the room opposite the one she’d been ejected from and tried to close the door. It hit something hard and refused to close all the way. Shit, the fucking deadbolt! In the darkness, he could hear the zombie outside slowly walking around, and the soft snoring of someone in the bed in this room. He made out a lamp in the darkness, grabbed the base of it and turned as he heard the door being pushed open. The zombie had walked into the door, wedging it open and stumbled deeper in the room. He cocked the lamp back to hit the zombie in the head, but on the downswing, the lamp’s cord caught on something and it jerked him off his feet and he landed flat on his back. The zombie lunged for him at the same time and landed on top of him, her face in his crouch. Primal fear gripped him and he ripped the lampshade off and drove it over the zombie’s head. He scrambled to his feet and ran past the zombie who was crawling around on the floor and let himself out. He burst into the hallway and immediately checked his package for any damage. Finding none, he let out an audible sigh of relief and started to calm down again.
The door which had spat out the female zombie that had been dumped in his lap opened and a girl followed by Bree ran out. Bree tried to pull the door shut, but a hand reached out and got stuck. She grabbed the side of the doorway and kicked straight into the door. There was a quiet thud and she managed to close the door on the rebound. The other girl slumped against the wall while Bree looked around for other possible threats. “Thanks, sis,” the girl said. Bree nodded and there was an awkward silence between them for a moment. Bree’s face was stoic, but the relief was on the verge of bursting out from underneath the surface. Instead, she looked at Blake and said, “Let’s go.”
“Wait, ‘Let’s go.’?” he asked in disbelief, “This is your sister?”
Bree gave him a slightly annoyed look but nodded. “My sister. Kim,” she introduced.
“You’re that racist dude I bumped into downstairs,” Kim told him.