Dead Outside (Book 1) (7 page)
“Could
it really be that easy?” I thought out loud. I lifted it up, and sure enough there
was a key sitting under the mat. I couldn’t help but smirk as I unlocked the
door and let myself in.
The
house was dark, so I pulled out my flashlight. It had a piece of red cellophane
taped over the end so it wouldn’t impair my night vision. I didn’t remember
where I heard about that, but it must have been from a movie. It made
everything a bright hellish red.
It
was an average house, probably occupied by an average family.
Suddenly
there was a loud thud from down the hall.
I
froze.
I
held the flashlight and the pump of my shotgun in one hand, and the trigger in
the other. I followed the hallway to a bedroom. The door shook with another
pound. Not really thinking about it, I pounded back.
An
almost inhuman gurgling groan echoed through my ears. I took a step back as the
pounding on the door became more frequent. I leaned my shotgun against the
wall, and pulled out my baseball bat. The door seemed to pulse as I took a few
deep breaths, got into a stable stance and kicked it open. The door knocked him
back, but he was still standing. He had on a blood stained shirt that said 'I
kicked anorexia's ass,' which was a few sizes too small, a large belly hanging
out from under it. The guy must have weighed an easy 400. His lack of pants was
immediately evident, though his swollen belly covered where any genitals would
be, thank god.
“Son
of a bitch,” I exclaimed, awestruck. The bat struck him in the shoulder, but it
practically bounced off the thick layer of fat. He charged at me, but I dove to
my left to avoid the hulking mess. He slammed against the wall face first, but
it didn’t faze him at all, he just turned and continued to charge me at a brisk
pace, not quite running or jogging, but fast enough to keep up with me crab
crawling backwards on all fours. I realized too late that my shotgun was in the
opposite direction of where I was going.
I
kicked his legs out from under him, throwing him off balance. The hallway
wasn’t very wide, so when he hit the ground he landed on my left arm. I
squirmed and pulled my arm out from under him, and scrambled to my feet. He got
up a little faster than I thought he would, but by the time he did I had
reached my shotgun.
The
blast was a lot louder than I thought it would be, considering I had never
fired it indoors without ear protection before. The shell blasted a large hole
in his chest, spraying bodily fluids on the wall and roof behind the beast and
hit with enough force to make him take a few steps backward and almost fall
over again. Except for the stumbling, his face didn't give any indication that
he noticed he'd been shot.
I
pumped another shell into the chamber and fired again. Chunks of skull and
brain sprayed against the wall behind him as his head blew apart from the slug.
His body fell limp almost immediately and collapsed onto the floor.
My
heart was pounding and my ears were ringing as I stood over the corpse. I
ejected the spent shell and smoke billowed out the ejection port. His body was
still, no movement. I took a step closer and poked it with the barrel end of my
shotgun. His body didn’t move, but I heard more crashing coming from down the
hall making me jump a little. It sounded like at least two sets of arms
pounding another door farther down the hall.
I
looked back at the obese corpse on the floor in front of me. “Fuck it.” I
didn’t want to deal with another close call like that. I went back to the front
door and saw the rain had picked up pretty heavily. I pulled out a poncho I had
packed in my bag and threw it on. I was just about to dash into the storm when
I heard a moan from behind me.
My
heart sank. I looked behind me and saw three kids. Well, they used to be kids.
Their pale grey skin, blank stares, and blood dripping from their little jaws
assured me that they were no longer innocent children. Huge chunks of flesh were
missing from each of them.
One
boy who couldn't have been more than seven or eight had part of his forearm
missing, leaving a torn set of onesie pajamas and a limp hand dangling from his
outstretched arm. The second boy who was even younger had intestines falling
from under his brown stained cowboy t-shirt. The girl was the smallest of all.
Half of her face was gone, exposing bone and tendons that made me sick to my
stomach. Even though I only saw it for a second, her jaw line had no teeth,
just discolored gums smacking together with a wet pop.
I
thought about killing them, but decided against it. I told myself it was
because I didn’t need to waste the bullets, and that I’d be able to outrun
them, but deep down I probably just couldn’t bring myself to do it.
The
rain was coming down heavy. I didn’t want to stay out there for much longer,
but I didn’t want those Infected kids to follow me. I turned a corner and saw a
house as good as any to hole up in for the night. I went to the door and tried
to open it. It was unlocked. It was a toss up as to whether this would be a
good thing or not. This time I wasn’t taking any chances. My shotgun was up and
at the ready.
The
living room was empty, as was the kitchen. I kicked the bathroom door open and
saw it was empty as well, though it was a mess. Someone had punched the mirror,
shattering it.
The
bedroom doors were boarded shut, which at first I thought was odd, but given
the circumstances it made sense. I knocked on each of the doors and asked, “Hello,
is anybody there?”
Nobody
responded, Infected or otherwise. I went back to the kitchen and unplugged the
refrigerator. It was pretty heavy, but I managed to slide it over to the front
door. I lifted it from the bottom and it fell into the front door, bracing it
shut.
I
took off my backpack and leaned it against the couch, set my bat and shotgun
within reaching distance, and laid down.
The
storm was raging pretty hard, but I could still make out faint moans coming
from outside, as well as wind howling in the boarded up bedrooms. I closed my
eyes and tried to fall asleep, but all I could think about was Sarah, where she
was, whether she was safe, and if I’d ever see her again.
Just
as my eyes were about to close for the night, I heard a slight thud coming from
the front door, a slow repetitive banging, filling my mind. Every once in a
while a moan or growl would be echo in-between the howling wind and deep
thunder, shaking me to my bones. I listened to the ruckus for about an hour,
eventually blocking it out from sheer exhaustion and finally getting some
sleep, even if it was just an hour or two.
5:00
PM, June 30
The
rain blew in sideways. My plastic poncho was blowing all over the place. I was
kneeling next to a building to shield myself, giving me a short break from the
pounding rainstorm that had been going on all morning since I left the house
I’d spent the last night in.
I
thought about how close my journey was to ending the day before. Sitting
outside that supermarket, I didn’t think that truck was going to start. By some
stroke of luck it managed to finally fire up, and I got the hell out of there.
After
the truck ran out of gas I parked it up on a hill and slept in the cab. I woke
up to rain pouring in through the window that I’d smashed, and it’d been
raining ever since.
I
glanced all around me and saw four Infected all shifting toward me in the
horrible weather. I could barely make any details out, but the way they
shuffled around was unmistakable. One of them fell over and impaled himself on
a broken street sign. They were all more than thirty yards away giving me at
least a few seconds, so I took the moment to take off my backpack and pull out
a roll of duct tape.
My
poncho had been blowing up and over my face, blocking my vision. I could hear
the familiar ripping sound of the tape coming off the roll even over the
howling winds. I bit the tape to rip it and taped the bottom of the poncho to
my pants to help keep it from flying up and blinding me again.
I
glanced again and saw that the other three Infected were closing in, now about
twenty yards away. Even the fourth one, who was completely impaled on the pole,
was trying to crawl toward me, to no avail. He was just dragging his hands
along the sidewalk in front of him, trying to pull himself off the pole it was
obviously stuck on.
Traveling
in a storm was both a curse and a blessing. The sound of the wind and rain
covered any sounds I could make, thus providing the perfect cover for the many
thousands of Infected that could be right around the corner and not even know I
was there. But of course the door swung both ways, and I could walk right into
a mob of over a hundred and not know they were there. So I tried to stay in the
middle of the streets, always looking twice before I went around a corner. I
also liked the idea of collecting water on my poncho and filling my canteen
every hour or so. Dehydration had been sneaking up on me for the last few days,
and this provided a nice relief from that.
An
Infected was about two yards in front of me. He was only about five feet tall.
He was still wearing these giant black rimmed glasses, and a button up shirt.
The poor geek never stood a chance. I gripped my bat and swung down hard on top
of his head, shattering his skull and dropping him for good. The rain rinsed
the blood and brain matter off my bat almost instantly, saving me the trouble
of having to wipe it clean myself. I snapped my backpack back on as the other
two Infected got close. I just jogged around them instead of wasting my energy
taking them out.
After
a few blocks I slowed to a walk. I reached a fallen chain link fence all
mangled and bent out of shape. If I had to guess I would say that a few hundred
Infected had brought it down. There were several towering warehouses in front
of me. I walked around the first warehouse and rounded the corner a little too
fast, looking for one that hadn’t had its doors smashed in. My heart skipped a
beat as I saw several thousand Infected all surrounding a factory trying to get
in. I wasn’t ten feet away from the closest one.
I
know a lot of people claim to see their lives flash before their eyes when they
experience a near death experience. Apparently they see their happiest
memories, the highlights of their lives. I didn’t see any of those things, in
fact, I didn’t even fear for my own safety. I felt a gut wrenching fear for
someone else, Sarah. Her face was the only thing I saw, and it was enough.
I
dove back around the corner and crawled into a sitting position with my back
against the wall. I clicked off my shotgun’s safety and realized my eyes were
squeezed shut. I slowly opened one, expecting to see at least five or six
Infected about to maul me. But none were there. I felt like somebody had just
taken a dump truck off of my chest. I let out a huge sigh of relief, and wiped
the rain and cold sweat off my face, only for it to be replaced a moment later.
There
were about a dozen warehouses around me. It took me an hour just to get to the
warehouse that was farthest from the massive horde surrounding the other
building. I got closer to the one I thought would be safest. It was a relic of
the industrial age, red bricks stacked up on top of each other up to at least
eighty feet high. I pulled on the handle of the door. Of course it was locked,
but it didn’t even shift on its hinges, which was odd.
I
walked around looking for a window. The lowest one was at least ten feet high.
I couldn’t quite reach it, so I pushed a dumpster under it. I climbed up and
looked through the window. It was dark inside, so I couldn’t make out much
other than the outlines of several large shelves filled with pallets of boxes.
I punched the window shattering the glass, took out my rope, tied it to the
cast iron frame of the window, and climbed down to the floor. When I tried to
open the locked door from the inside, I noticed it was welded shut.
“What
the hell?” I said out loud. Maybe it was somebody’s attempt at safety, but it
seemed like overkill considering the door was already reinforced.
The
rain was pounding outside, and the enormous emptiness warehouse made it echo
everywhere.
I
pulled out my shotgun and began to move toward the end of the warehouse where
it looked like there were a bunch of offices. I flicked on the flashlight I had
previously duct taped to the bottom of my shotgun. The red light made
everything seem evil and demented. I reached the end of the main floor and saw
a balcony with a set of office doors and a large window next to it
“Where
in the hell did you come from?” I heard someone yell. The voice echoed through
the warehouse floor.
I
turned back to the balcony and saw three figures standing there. Two of them
were holding some kind of rifles, and the one in the middle was just standing
there with his arms crossed.
I
lowered my shotgun to show them I wasn’t a threat, but also clicked off the
safety, hoping they couldn’t hear it over the storm.
“I
just need a place to stay for the night,” I said. “It’s pouring out there.”
“Why
should we give you shelter after you broke in one of our windows?” he asked
angrily.
I
cursed under my breath. “I’m sorry I broke your window. I didn’t know there
were any people here I can give you something I have to repay you.”
I
could barely make him out in the low lighting. He was tall, at least in
comparison to the two guys flanking him. “Now there’s an idea. Drop all of your
belongings, and we’ll let you leave with your life.”
I
gulped. This wasn’t good. My thoughts were racing, searching for some way to
get out of here. I saw movement to my left from the corner of my eye, then more
to the right. The one to my left was tall, lanky, and kind of a twitchy looking
guy. The one to my right on the other hand was a monster. He had to be six and
a half feet tall, and three hundred pounds easy.
“Lock
him up against one of the shelves, and bring his things up to the office,” the
man upstairs ordered, and then went back into his office.
The
man to my right frisked me. He found my pistol and tucked it into the backpack,
then tied my hands behind my back. He pointed to a large line of shelving
against the wall, “Go over there.” The gruff man had a thick black beard and
his voice was deep. He sort of reminded me of a lumberjack. I began walking. I
had only taken about five or six steps before he kicked me in the back.
I
hit the ground hard, banging my shoulder on the hard concrete. He kicked me in
the ribs several times. I didn’t yell or scream, I wouldn’t give him that
satisfaction. I just winced and grunted. I looked up to the balcony and saw
that there was nobody there. I looked over and saw the other guy carrying all
my stuff through a door that led to a flight of stairs. I waited for the door
to close behind him.
“Come
on Paul Bunyan, is that all you got?” I taunted the large burly man. He stopped
for a second and swung his leg back for another kick. I spun around and tripped
him with my legs. He was huge, so it took all my strength to bring him down. He
hit the ground hard with a dull thud, throwing concrete dust all around. I
rolled over and kicked him hard in the head, knocking him out. I stopped and
looked up at the balcony and the door leading to the stairs. I didn’t see
anybody.
I
coughed a few times, and then got my knife back from the man to cut the rope
that tied me up. I slid the knife into my pocket and noticed he had a lighter
and an Uzi, so I grabbed the small machine gun. I’d never used one before, but
it couldn’t be too difficult if this guy could use it.
I
ran up to the door that the twitchy guy had carried all my stuff in. I took a
quick peek through a little window on the door. There were two guys just
sitting at a table playing poker or something. Both of them had Uzis.
I
tried to think of some way to pull them out of there and remembered that there
were several gas drums near the door. I grabbed the lighter that I’d seen on
Paul, and ran back to the other side of the warehouse. It was at least a
hundred yards away. I got over there and found that all the drums empty but
one. It was about half full. I pushed the drum over and the gas began to pour
out. When I was about twenty yards away I flicked the lighter open, making a
small flame puff out of the wick. I threw it and ran as fast as I could back to
the office side of the warehouse.
As
I ran, the gas exploded blowing the rolling door off the wall, and taking a
chunk of the wall with it. The whole warehouse shook, and the force of the
explosion almost knocked me off my feet. I sprinted as fast as I could back to
the office area, but I heard people yelling ahead of me, so I hid behind a tall
stack of wooden pallets.
Five
or six guys ran past me toward the source of the explosion. One of them hopped
on a fork lift and picked up a stack of pallets next to the stack I was hiding
behind, probably to try to block the hole I made in the door. I leaned around
the pallets and aimed the Uzi at the driver. He glanced toward me. His green
eyes were staring directly into mine. I pulled the trigger and fired four shots
into his chest, killing him.
The
shots were loud, echoing through the warehouse. I ran back to the front where
the stairwell was, hiding behind anything big enough to shield me from view. My
heart was racing. I’d never killed a person before, at least one who wasn’t
attempting to eat me, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Sure that guy who
tried to steal my gas, but I didn’t shoot him, he was alive when I left him.
Voices
snapped me back into the moment. They came from near the stack of pallets I’d
been hiding behind a second ago. They didn’t sound very pleased. I reached the
door and looked through the window above the handle. The goons that were
previously in there were now gone.
“There
he is!” I heard someone yell from behind me. I turned and saw two guys running
in my direction. I flung the door open and dove in. They fired a few bursts at
me, but the door closed just in time to catch the bullets, leaving little dents
on the inside of the door.
I
scrambled behind something to cover me when they reached the door, but I was
too late. A gun barrel broke through the window and sprayed bullets all around
the room. Several of the bullets hit the concrete around me. One of the bullets
flew close enough to my ear that I could have sworn it shaved off some hair.
I
returned fire at the door trying to concentrate the bullets at the little
window, hoping to distract them long enough to get behind some cover, but the
recoil on the gun made the bullets land everywhere but. The noise the shots
made was enough for them to stop firing long enough for me to get behind some
cover before another spray of bullets flew across the room. Debris was
everywhere, chunks of drywall and broken glass coated the floor.
The
stairs were on the other side of the room, but just far enough for it to be a
fool’s errand to try to run across the hail of gunfire spraying randomly all
over the place.
I
fired at the door again, giving myself some covering fire. A few of the shots
must have gone through the window because I heard a yelp of pain. I shook my
head trying to get the image of those green eyes out of my vision and ran to
the stairs while I could. When I reached them I ran up as fast as I could,
hearing the gunfire still being fired downstairs. They must not have noticed I
wasn’t in the room anymore.
At
the top of the stairs there was a hallway with several doors on either side. I
walked slowly, trying not to make too much noise as I listened to each door,
trying to hear if anyone was inside, my ears were still ringing from all the
gunfire, so there could have been an opera in one of these rooms for all I knew.
The first few were locked anyhow. About three doors down on the right I saw a
bathroom, and then I saw what must have been the door that lead to the balcony,
judging by the distance from the stairs. I pressed my ear up to it and heard
what must have been the leader shouting.
“How
in the hell did he get out?” he asked in a rage.
“He
knocked out Fred when Jeremy brought his stuff up to you,” someone else’s voice
squawked out of a radio.
“I
should have just shot him and tossed his body out to those fuckers outside,”
the Leader complained.
