The Living and the Dead Read online

  The light continued to shine in my direction as if letting me simmer in my own stew of anxiety and anticipation. The front of my body tingled, expecting either a cannon shell or a rain of bullets.

  Thankfully, neither came.

  From across the compound, a rip of fire sounded and the lights of the chopper bounced away from me. It jitter bugged in the air, splashing around the compound in a chaotic fashion reminding me of a dance club for some reason. (Not that I ever frequented them.)

  The helicopter continued to bounce spasmodically in the night sky and I could see a small shower of sparks spitting off its side sprinkling down onto the tops of the buildings. The movement was quite violent. The pilot either was flying the helicopter to ‘70’s disco music or heavy metal. The way the spotlight was flashing up and down, I was going with headbanger. Maybe speed metal.

  What was obvious was that the chopper was in trouble.

  I wasn’t sure if that boded well for us. The helicopter had done its best in creating both chaos and a way for us to escape, but the world outside our little room looked like something out of Dante’s Ninth Circle. Flames were leaping from exploded vehicles and burning buildings. Men were screaming out in pain and bodies lay torn apart and bleeding. The gunners in the helicopter and the men still on their feet on the ground were firing away. Bullets whizzed through the air, sometimes hitting flesh and sometimes hitting pavement or steel.

  The zombies only added to the carnage, walking unafraid of the deadly capabilities of the circling chopper or the men firing away on the ground. They did what they always did and shambled about in search of a hot or cold meal. As if I didn’t have enough to deal with, I’d have to navigate around their undead asses.

  Through the smoke, flames, and muzzle flashes, I saw one building that was still relatively intact. A corner had collapsed in on itself and smoke was wafting out of its roof. Standing in front of it was Marlow, firing away at the helicopter, his face caught in an expression that was part grimace/part smile. He had dealt the damage that had wounded the chopper. A little voice inside me told me it had to have been him.

  Maybe it was only desperation, but I had to hope that Kara was in that building and that she was still alive. I would have to cross this Ninth Circle of hell and make my way past Marlow to get to her.

  I would do that or die trying.

  Chapter 30

  Elvis has Left the Building

  Henry acted as the caboose for their little escape party as they rushed along, heading for any escape route to get out of the building. He sort of felt like the cockroaches just after someone had popped on all the lights. He had been a lot more comfortable moving under the cover of darkness. With all the lights on the first floor of the building shining brightly, he felt out in the open. With the footsteps of soldiers quickly approaching, he was close to panicking.

  Just as he pushed Doc Wilson around the corner, he looked back down the hallway and saw three soldiers running their way with Corporal Lodwick in the lead.

  Lodwick saw Henry standing at the intersecting hallway and without any hesitation shouted, “Shoot that son of a bitch.”

  Henry didn’t wait and jumped around the corner, but he swore he felt the bullets whiz by him and slammed into the wall over his shoulder. Chunks of wall board and dust exploded around him as he tried to duck under the flying debris. Splinters of wood prickled his back and shoulders.

  The group ahead of him was running full tilt, sprinting down the hallway and picking up speed. This new hallway was just thirty feet long, but it felt a lot longer. Henry prayed that no soldiers would appear ahead of them because they would clearly be dead if one was there.

  The footsteps of the soldiers behind them resounded off the walls.

  “Take a right,” Henry yelled. “Head for the outside door.”

  The group, with Steve Hampton now in the lead, needed no encouragement and took a sharp right at the next corner. Although there were only a few in their group, from Henry’s perspective, they moved painfully slow.

  Just as he was about to reach the corner, he heard the explosive sounds of gunfire. Bullets winged down the hall striking the wall in front of Henry sending out puffs of dust from the shattered drywall. There was nothing for him to do, but duck down and run like the devil was chasing him. Bullets flew by him, exploding into the wall just in front of him.

  “Stop running,” Lodwick yelled.

  Fat chance of that, Henry thought as he sped around the corner. He looked ahead and saw Steve Hampton reach the door. Henry once again sent up a fervent hope that the soldiers hadn’t somehow jammed this door locked.

  As soon as he reached it, Hampton slammed his hands down on the push bar to open the heavy wooden door. It flew open so easily that Hampton lost his balance and slid, face first, out of the door. He skimmed like a child on a water slide for nearly ten feet across the dew-soaked grass before coming to a stop. The others moved out the doorway, but it slowed down their progress as it narrowed the avenue of escape. Spurred by more gunshots, Henry caught up to the group quickly.

  “Go, go, go!” he shouted as he approached Doc Wilson’s back who seem to be moving at the speed of molasses. While Doc Wilson wasn’t broad, he was tall and gangly. To Henry, Doc Wilson seemed like a huge human cork stuck in the doorway.

  Henry nearly plowed into Doc Wilson at full speed, but cut his pace at the last moment. Even then, he knocked them both out the door and into the cool night air.

  Somehow, both of them maintained their balance, but, to his surprise, Henry saw that the group had nearly stopped altogether, standing around just a few feet outside the door. To them, it was as if getting outside the building was the goal.

  “Get to the woods,” Henry yelled as he looked back to the door. “GO!” he shouted, motivating them into action again. He swiveled his head back to the woods and then to the door. There was nearly seventy five yards between the side of the building and the edge of the woods. It was flat ground. Easy for running, but it seemed more like a mile. He quickly did the mental calculations and knew there was no way they’d make it halfway there before the soldiers made it out the door. The soldiers could pick them off like slow moving game. It would be all too easy.

  His people were moving again, but had a long distance to go. He had to give them a better chance because at that point, they had almost none.

  He ran back to the door and pushed it shut as he saw the soldiers come sprinting around the corner inside. The door slammed hard with a heavy clunk and he looked for anyway or anything he could block it, but saw nothing. So, he did the only thing he could and braced his back against it as he slumped down with his feet dug into the ground in front of the door. He hoped he could be the human wedged that held the door closed to keep the soldiers at bay long enough for his people to make it to the woods.

  The door was made of thick, solid wood, but he wasn’t sure it would stop a bullet. Maybe a couple shots, but not a barrage.

  “Henry, come on,” Doc Wilson shouted from twenty yards away looking back and discovering Henry sitting against the door.

  “Keep going!” Henry yelled, but Doc Wilson stood, wavering towards the people running for the woods and back towards the building. “You can’t help me. Just go!”

  Doc Wilson was a smart man and he could see the cold calculation Henry had made. A pained expression passed over his face, but he turned and ran for the woods.

  Something heavy struck the door with a lot of force, but Henry pushed the heels of his shoes into the ground and he held the door closed.

  Someone inside said, “What the hell?”

  Another voice ordered, “Use your damn shoulder.” Henry knew that was Lodwick.

  The man did as he was told and Henry imagined him taking two steps back and making a run at the door. The force of the hit pushed Henry forward about an inch, but he pushed back against it, slamming it shut.

  “Shit. There’s someone out there holding it shut,” Lodwick said. A moment later, he said, “Sho
ot the fucking door.”

  This was what Henry was afraid of. How heavy a caliber were their rifles? Could they pierce the door?

  He quickly found out. The force of the shots felt like someone was pounding on the other side of the door with a ten-pound sledgehammer. Each impact jarred his back sending shock waves throughout his body. None of those first three shots pierced the door.

  He looked up and saw that his people were two thirds the way to the woods. If he held just a little while longer, they’d probably make it and that was the consolation he would have as the soldiers shot him to death. It was a cold comfort, but it was all he had.

  “Keep shooting,” Henry heard Lodwick say from within the building.

  Shot after shot hit the door. It took about ten before the first one pierced its way through the heavy wood, sending splinters out into the field. The only saving measure was that they were shooting at the top of the door while was at the bottom.

  Henry knew they’d wise up fast.

  The shooting stopped for a moment and he heard footsteps inside the door. One of the soldiers inside moved up to the door and gave it a shove, but Henry held it fast.

  Footsteps backed away from the door and Henry decided that he had pushed it far enough and shoved himself to his feet. He was running full out within two steps. He also knew it wasn’t fast enough. Not even close.

  A series of shouts sounded inside and he heard the door being ripped apart by the bullets. In his mind’s eyes, he saw it coming apart like cardboard.

  The soldiers would be through that door and targeting him in only seconds. Henry scanned forward and saw that nearly all his friends had made it to the woods. Doc Wilson was the lone straggler, but he was only a couple dozen feet away from the dark canopy of the trees.

  The shooting stopped behind Henry and two seconds later, he heard the door burst open. The soldiers said something, but he didn’t pay attention, but he could tell that whatever it was, they were more than annoyed.

  His feet hit the ground hard, each stride set to maximum effort, his muscles straining to propel him forward. He had made it halfway to the woods, but knew he stood out like a scarecrow, a lone figure rushing along the flat and even ground. He figured they’d either target him for a sniper shot or just let loose with a barrage and cut him down. Neither were very appealing.

  He skipped zig-zagging or any evasive action and ran as fast and straight as he could. That was until he saw someone heading toward him. Someone shambling. He knew it wasn’t a someone, but rather a something. He made a fast cut to the right and sped past the outreaching arms of a tall male zombie, easily dodging it. A shot sounded behind him and the zombie’s head exploded. He cut back to his left and continued on his straight line to the trees.

  A small dot in his back tingled expectantly, waiting for the bullet. He felt the aim of the soldier’s rifle targeting between his shoulder blades. After a few seconds, there was no rip of bullets, so they were going for the one clean shot. If that missed, then they’d probably cut him down with a burst of bullets.

  A sound of a single shot came his way, and he squeezed his eyes shut, running blind, waiting for the impact. Waiting for the bullet to cut into his back and explode all his vital organs out the front of his body. Waiting to die.

  No bullet came, and he opened his eyes and saw a muzzle flash in the woods followed by another one.

  Someone was firing back at the soldiers from the tree line. He dared a glance over his shoulder and saw the soldiers ducking for cover as his savior laid down a line of covering fire, the bullets flying fast and true. He saw one soldier go down and not get up while the others either went back inside or crawled to the safety of the shadows.

  Henry made the woods five seconds later, embracing the darkness provided by the tree cover.

  Chapter 31

  Siege

  Russell took a peek around the doorjamb but was driven back by a rip of gunfire from down the hallway. A row of bullets flew past his face, hitting the wall on the other side of the room. This was the third such exchange from the soldiers down the hall. With each flurry of bullets, the soldiers pressed their advantage and advanced on their position.

  There was no backdoor to this room, so the hallway was the only way out. The only obstacles were three well-armed and pissed off soldiers in their way. These same soldiers saw their dead colleagues strewn about in bloody pools in the hallway and were feeling a bloodlust for revenge.

  “Shit,” he screamed.

  Maggie jumped back from her position just a few feet behind him, nearly smacking into her squad of undead. Not that it mattered. They were still held in check by her electronic magic.

  It had been like this for several minutes with Russell playing peekaboo with the soldiers, trying to find some way out of their predicament. Just minutes before they had driven this way, and Maggie had used her zombie thralls to surprise and dispatch a room full of soldiers. She had been the queen of the world. Now, over half of her zombie squad was destroyed and the rest were missing arms or chunks of their bodies. This loss of force reduced almost them back down to the level of mere mortal. Almost.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked, all the bravado gone from her tone.

  “Hell if I know,” Russell said. He surveyed the room with all the dead soldiers, but he also saw a lot of weapons. “If your zombies can’t get the job done, grab a gun.”

  Maggie had been so fixated on using her zombie soldiers, she hadn’t even considered this option. She quickly switched gears and quickly grabbed up a rifle. Growing up a country girl, she knew a little about shooting, but she was rusty and she knew it.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  Russell was acutely aware that the power dynamic had quickly shifted, and he was back on the hot seat of making decisions.

  “They’re going to come up that hall any minute now,” Russell said. “That or they’re waiting for more reinforcements. Either way, we’re in trouble.” He had little or no military training aside from the drills Joel had made them do, but he knew that the soldiers would have to advance on them. “Watch the door?”

  “What the fuck? What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “Just watch the door. Fire off a few shots to keep them on their toes.”

  He scurried around the room, taking furtive glances at the door the whole time. The soldiers fired another salvo, and he dropped to the floor. There was no shortage of weapons, but he only had the ability to shoot one rifle at a time, so that abundance didn’t help them much. He discovered a large cabinet in the back corner of the room and searched it. His search proved mostly fruitless as he only found non-military supplies including a set of tools, duct tape, WD-40, a roll of heavy twine, two toilet plungers, and some drain cleaner. Unless he was going to plunge them to death, there was nothing useful in there, so he moved on with his search.

  “What did you find in that cabinet?” She asked.

  “Not much,” he replied. “Duct tape, WD40, and some twine. Can we fight our way out of here with that?”

  “Keep looking, limp dick,” she said.

  A shot winged into the room and slammed into the back wall. Being the bad-ass that she was, Maggie returned fire, yelling, “Take that, you little fuckers!” Most of her bullets, though, struck the inside of the wall. She was good at controlling zombies, but not so good with shooting.

  Russell took notice of her errant aim, but returned to his search, finding some ammunition around the bodies of the soldiers, collecting what he could. He kept on looking until he finally found what he was looking for, and he knew it could be a game changer for them. He slid up next to Maggie, who was watching the doorway intently.

  She jumped and screamed, “Don’t do that. You scared the shit out of me.”

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “Did you find anything?” she asked.

  “Why yes, I did,” he said, as he held out two hand grenades.

  “Well, holy shit,” she said.

  “It
sounds a hell of a lot like that the ceasefire is over,” Kinsler said. He, Jones, and Jo walked down a set of dark stairs, the only light coming from Kinsler’s flashlight. As they had made their way off the third floor, they had listened to exchanges of gunfire.

  “Where is that coming from?” Jo asked.

  “It sounds like it’s coming from the soldier’s quarters on two,” Jones said.

  “I don’t like that,” Kinsler said. “I told you, I’m out of here, but if your people are killing my men, then the rules could change.”

  “I don’t like it either, but we’re past that,” Jones said. “Way past it. You picked your way, now let’s check out what’s going on. If we can convince our guys to back down and let Jo’s people go, then we’ll take it from there.”

  In the lead, Jones stopped at the door which led onto the second floor and listened. Two exchanges of fire sounded with one answering the other. He waited a few more seconds, but there was nothing but silence outside the door. There was nothing to do but open the door so that’s what he did.

  The door swung open easily, giving them a view of a short, empty hallway. Jones used hand signals to tell Jo and Kinsler that they all should move forward, but he would be in the lead. They made it into the hallway when a small explosion sounded a floor below them.

  “Let’s get down to two,” Jones said.

  “It looks like we aren’t the only ones with grenades,” Maggie said, waving away the smoke and dust filling the air. The soldier’s grenade had landed just outside the door and peppered the outside wall with shrapnel. It had fallen short, but it had made a point by blowing the door off the hinges. If the next grenade made it into the room, then Russell and Maggie would be toast. The space was just too small and there was nowhere to hide from the blast.

  “Two can play at that game,” Russell said and pulled the pin on his hand grenade. A second later, he whipped his arm forward, throwing side-armed, and tossed the grenade down the hall in the direction of the soldiers. They heard it bounce off the wall and then the floor. A moment after that it exploded.