Dead Pulse (12 page)

Jayne reached under the desk and held in the PC’s off button. “How many times are you going to watch that? Forget it, its rhetoric.” Jayne rolled her eyes as the screen in front of her flicked off.

Outside there was a shout. Turning to face the window they both saw a body falling past the window. Getting up to see what was going on they looked down to see a body spread out on the concrete below.

“Who is it?” Jayne softly asked.

Quickly they made their way down the stairs and out onto the snowy concourse. The chef, Smith and
now compound security head Frank Marshal stood over the body.

“I don’t think you’d be able to help this one girl,” said
Frank. “Holy, holy, second suicide in a month, Quaid fetch the axe. Jayne stand back, she’ll be getting back up any minute.”

“Who is it? Jackie?” asked Jayne.

“Nope, Sarah,” replied Smith.

“How can you tell?” Jayne asked wiping her hands on her light blue jeans.

“The tattoo on her back Reed,” said Smith pointing at the girls shoulder.

The cracking noise of her shattered bones reforming broke the conversation, as the corpse began to move. She lifted her head clawing the ground propelling herself forward her broken legs dragging behind her.

“Man, I once saw a midget clown in the same state,” Smith blurted out.

Jayne nudged past him, “Have you no feelings or remorse? Yesterday you were eating dinner with her. Now she’s a piece of shit?” she snarled, crunching ice under her boots as she walked back towards the building. She passed Quaid who stopped
with an axe in his hand.

Quaid offered Frank
the heavy blade. “You’re not going to do it?” Frank asked.

Quaid shook his head, “she’s not my department pal, you’re
Military security and she is a security risk,” roughly he shoved the axe into Frank’s aged hands.

Just like his sister,
thought Frank.

Large snowflakes began to fall on the clothing of the corpse as she continued to drag herself forwards. The blade slammed down severing Sarah’s spinal cord in one swift move. Her severed head
spun on the freezing floor. Frank with one the axe still in one hand pulled out his radio.

His voice sullen, “Louis, its Sarah...”

“Is it serious?” crackled Louis’s voice.”

“She’s dead,” replied Frank
, “so yeah, it’s pretty serious. Get over to the Southside and dispose of her body.” He put the radio in his jacket pocket, “what a waste,” he sighed as he wiped the bloody axe blade in Sarah’s clothes.

Quaid and Frank sat in the canteen, some of the
fluorescent lights flickered
over their heads their 
starters struggling feebly
. Quaid added a fifth sugar to his coffee, he looked at Frank tapping his spoon against the edge of his cup, “Are you serious?”

“
I don’t give orders anymore and I can’t trust anyone else to watch my back Quaid. There’s a farmhouse close by. There may be food there or animals we could use. I’m old but not in the business of dying. We have to do it, we’ve little food left.” Frank explained.

“Well then I guess I don’t have much choice?” Quaid said
leaning back in his chair as Frank gave a shrug. “I can’t have your death on my conscience. I’m in, but only if you speak to the men, they need to stay well away from Jayne.”

“She can handle herself,” Frank
grinned widely.

“She’s been through a lot.
And the last connection I have to my sister. I’m not saying she can’t hold her own, but I’ve heard them talking and I’m not getting into another fight.”

“You’ve got a soft spot for her, and I respect that. Okay it’s a deal.
I’ll see Kev and we’ll leave at first light.”

So will you come with us to this farmhouse?” Frank asked.

Kevin
stared with his jaundiced, bloodshot eyes then threw another body onto the convey belt, “Okay old man. I’m going to die in any case,” Kevin replied, “if the grave-less don’t kill me the cancer will. What have I got to lose?”

“
That’s the spirit! You’re in.” Frank smiled patting Kevin on his shoulder. “We leave before dawn, when the dead are colder, more sluggish.”

Kevin
puffy with his last supply of drugs stopped stacking bodies. “I’ve just one question, how the hell are we going to get out of here, get past them?”

Frank
looked at him knowingly and smiled. “Kev, bring a peg and a plunger,” grinned Don.

Quaid stood at the top of the building watching through the night vision scope. He could see the dead in highlighted in night vision glory. Although the dead were quieter, slower in the dark, he could still hear their moans carrying on the wind. The dead were like water, flowing and moving, waiting to exploit cracks, weaknesses to get in and devour them. They had to be watched constantly and the compound had to be maintained to keep them out. Their mass and constant movement put pressure on the perimeter. Quaid knew they could never relax or drop their guard.

He moved around and could see Jayne looking down her scope. Behind her, two tall chimneys spewed smoke from the bodies of the incinerated dead floating now into the air. He pointed the scope down and further to the right, he watched five men loading bodies onto a partly sheltered conveyor belt that lead into the crematorium. Watching the bodies being loaded he thought about demise of the beautiful Vice President, her rescue mission had apparently gone terribly wrong. The reports had said that she had put up a fight but her, her bodyguards and soldiers had all been met with a grizzly death. On a more positive note there had been better news of another group of soldiers that had carried out a successful search and destroy mission. They were the team that were supposed to be saving them –
as if,
thought Quaid.

Quaid jumped as a hand touched his shoulder; Jayne had brought him a hot cup of coffee.

“I heard Smith confirming our food supply is stretched. I guess we’re not going last the winter with what we’ve got?” She shook her head. “This is getting worse than the bunker.”

“It doesn’t look good.” Quaid confirmed her fears. “We’re leaving at first light.”

She could see Quaid was distracted his mind deep in thought. “Listen I’ve already lost someone through heroics, but he died for a cause. Not for some food scraps.”

“We’re not going to starve here Jayne. I just wanna live long enough to see her again.”

“Frank has lost it a little, he resents being here just for my protection, you need to be careful. And try not to worry about your sister I’m sure she’s fine Quaid,” she said placing her hand on his shoulder. She looked at the smoky haze around them, lit by the compound floodlights.

“I don’t doubt it; she’s got bigger balls than me. She lost fingers in a car door once, not a tear. Who would have thought she’d go from photographer to some kind of Joan of Arc,” he smiled.

“More Isabella of Castile, she has given the world hope. She saved my life.”

“As sisters go she was,”
pausing he corrected himself, “she is the best.” He looked at the shadows of the shuffling dead moving against the metal fence, looking on blankly as if to watch their dead friends being loaded onto the conveyer belt. Quaid and Jayne caught a glimpse of Sarah’s body being thrown in with the corpses. The bodies that surrounded her, those that had been rounded up and killed earlier that day seemed to embrace her headless body. “Karen wouldn’t end up like that.” he muttered. Turning to Jayne she had already started to make her way across the roof towards the other scope.

After a darkened stooped trudge through the compounds underground sewage pipe, the three men stepped out onto the partly oval corrugated sewage opening. Frank replaced the padlock of the metal gates pushing them lightly. The metal bars and the gate moved. With a groan they broke away from the concrete supporting posts. Quaid stopped it with his hand and put his finger to his lips, “shh.”

The nut and bolts had rusted and the screws now loose were coming away from the tunnel.

Chewing gum Frank tilted his head examining the gate, “It’s not going to hold, if enough of them push, they’ll get in.”

“We’ll blow it on the way back.” Quaid whispered decisively through gritted teeth. “Stay close” Quaid murmured to Kevin pointing out a pack of the dead eating a thawing dead bull, “and stay low.”

Kevin began to whisper, “Why don’t animals...”

Quaid cut him short, “Jayne has ideas, but no one knows, it’s just a human phenomenon.”

“Maybe because animal’s don’t have souls.” proposed Frank.

“They don’t?” Kevin asked with reservation.

They made their way down to the stream, their snow boots ankle deep in clear, ice-cold water. They left the stream through a snow-covered field and into the woodland. As the trio trudged over a ridge, the rundown 1920's farmhouse came into view, its roof and porch heavy with snow.

It stood on a small bank surround by melting snow and sparse trees; a small dirt road led to a fire damaged diesel
pump and burnt out pickup. A few walking corpses moved through the slushy snow. They were far enough away not to cause the men any concern. Most of the windows were boarded up; the remaining ones lay open letting in the elements. The front door swung on its hinges in the light wind.

Apart from a cold breeze rustling around them, the only other sound was of melting snow dripping from the roof. Scattered on the ground lay some dead, permanently dead, frozen by the harsh winter, killed by the previous occupants.

“Whatever happened here, we've missed it boys.”

“Okay, let’s make t
his quick. Kevin keep watch, Frank and I will check out the house,” Quaid instructed.

Holding
onto the banister Quaid and Frank made their way up the icy steps to the porch and entering through the front door.

The living and dining rooms were cluttered with over-turned furniture, broken plates and a smashed TV. Even with the windows open, there was a putrid smell of decaying bodies in the air. Snow and ice covered some of the floor and clung to the curtains. Three bodies lay on the floor; one decapitated its head nowhere to be seen. Another body sat in an armchair, covered ice and a light dusting of frost, it shimmered in the emerging morning light.

“Take the cellar,” Frank instructed.

“I don't think so pal, you've dragged my ass out here. You take the cellar.”

Frank gave a grin. “It was worth a try. Okay take kitchen Q, I’ll look for the cellar. Let's hope it's stocked in preparation for World War three.”

Quaid entered the kitchen. Pots and pans lay on the blood stained chequered tile floor, most of the cupboard doors were hanging by their hinges.
Empty,
the place looked as if it had already been ransacked. Bloodied towels lay discarded in one of the corners of the room. Quaid opened the fridge, to his horror the shelves were crawling with maggots, some of which were feasting on a decapitated head. “What the hell?” he slammed the door shut in disgust. “What a waste of time,” he muttered.
Jayne was right
he thought. “Frank its empty,” he called.

“Okay!”
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea,
Frank thought, cursing to himself. Spitting out his gum he opened the door that he guessed would lead to the cellar. From the darkness within, two dead people lunged forwards. Frank stumbled backwards onto the damp wooden floor, as he made a stand he slipped in some frozen water and blood, regaining his composure he turned onto his knees and got up. One of the frozen bodies moved forwards its bones cracking as it moved, its vice like hands gripped Frank’s arm.

Quaid, hearing the commotion drew his gun. Kevin, still on watch outside, gave out a yell. Looking through the window he saw Kevin grappling with
a gaunt red uniformed
Virgin
airhostess. Quaid rushed out of the back door, slipping on the icy floor as he came around the corner of the house, losing his footing he hit the floor hard, his gun slipped out of his hand and spun across the porch. His mind racing he began to kick at the beam that held up the tile roof of the porch. His snow boot smashed into the wood sending a sheet of snow and ice onto Kevin and his attacker.

Frank
gripped the doorframe and kicked out at his dead assailant forcing them back through the door.
Could Hardy do that?

Quaid struggled to get to his feet as the ice beneath them made it difficult to get any purchase. Holding onto the wooden banister, he slid across the sheet of ice that covered the wooden porch sideboards diving to the floor he scooped up the gun gripping it tightly as he let off
two shots that whizzed past Frank's head. The top of one of the corpse’s head blew off, fractions of its brain falling to the ground.

“Come on!” Frank
panted helping Quaid up. Moving quickly Quaid pulled Kevin up out of the snow and they made a dash for the tree line.

The three men stood panting, w
heezing and gasping for breath. They look up at each other, Quaid and Frank gave out a relieved laugh. Kevin looked blankly at the two men failing to see what was so funny.