Life Among the Dead (Book 4): The End (23 page)

21

“She doesn’t look so good,” Killian remarks to his brother in a whisper by the door.

“I thought it was just me,” Hippo concurs. “She’s kinda ‘blah’, right? Like from the neck up.”

“I mean, she looks like she’s getting worse.”

The girl has both her arms tightly around her stomach that burns and churns. She’s feverish, sweating buckets, her temperature rises like an out of control fire inside her.

“Um, Jessica,” Killian says softly. “My brother and I are going to get you some help. Why don’t you lay down and wait, all right?”

She looks up at the youth, her head shakes as she lifts her unfocused eyes from the floor. “I don’t want to be alone,” she says.

Killian isn’t about to leave his little brother with the soon-to-be zombie, nor will he send him out by himself. He helps her to her feet, he knows the halls will give them more options even with her tagging along.

“What?” Hippo asks when he sees she is coming as well. His brother just waves his question away and signals for him to open the door.

The hall is empty but they can hear echoing voices somewhere nearby. Letting the girl walk under her own power, she shuffles to follow the boys while she continues to hold her burning midsection with one hand and uses her other to guide herself along the wall.

They proceed toward the sounds of the living, they had heard shouting and screaming earlier but now the voices are hushed. They round a corner and see a mass of people standing around, three on the floor, and lots of blood.

“Halt!” a soldier commands the boys, aiming his rifle at them.

“We’re alive!” Hippo quickly confirms with his hands in the air.

They quicken their pace towards the group, comforted by the number of people and the presence of the armed soldiers. Jessica is staggering along at her own pace.

“What about her?” the soldier asks.

“She’s alive too,” Killian attests.

“For now,” Hippo adds.

The boys pass the naked body of Randy Russell, the guitar neck still lodged in his head and join the group. Killian is star struck to see Kelly Peel, to be so close to her in person. He’s seen her around the base, but has never summoned the nerve to talk to her. She looks right at them and asks if they are all right.

“We’re fine,” Hippo answers for them both. “She’s bit.”

“Miss Peel,” the soldier says, his weapon trained on the bleeding girl, “I have to do this.”

The songstress looks to the throng of people, there’s children among them. Aside from the boys that have just joined them, a blonde girl with lopsided pigtails looks scared as she clings to her father. There are tears of empathy in her eyes, though younger than the new arrivals, she knows what is about to happen.

“That’s a cool look,” Kelly remarks about the girl’s hair, one pigtail nearly touches her shoulder while the other dangles above her ear. “I should try that.”

The girl smiles.

“Maybe we can check out the snack area?” Kelly suggests to the father who instantly understands the un-spoken meaning, they need to get the children away from the condemned.

“Great idea,” the man agrees, leading his daughter away.

“Hey, boys,” Kelly finds the faces of the new arrivals. “Would you like to join me for a pop?”

“I—uh,” Killian is speechless.

“Yeah!” Hippo again answers for the both of them.

“Good idea, Miss Peel,” Sergeant Rash says. “I’m a huge fan by the way,” she loses her military bearing to gush. “Private, escort the civilians to the concession area—Sergeant Lynton and I will take care of business out here—And, I swear to god, if you so much as think of double checking…”

“Rash,” Sergeant Lynton says in his warning tone, the tone he reserves to keep her out of trouble.

They wait for the crowd to move down the hall to where snacks were once sold to the soldiers and their families during events and movies for very low prices. Some people have chosen to remain in the auditorium from the soldiers’ estimation of the group, they’ll contend with them after the task at hand is followed through.

The older man looks up, a serene look of acceptance passes between them. He closes his eyes and awaits the end of his pain. The girl on the other hand isn’t ready to go. She shakes her head slowly as her unfocused eyes see what’s about to happen, the blurry double image of the rifle barrel being brought in line with her head.

“No, please!” she begs the large dark smudge that is Sergeant Lynton. She turns to run but is disorientated, unable to recall which way to go to get away from him. He fires his rifle just as she staggers, missing her entirely and giving her an added incentive to make a fevered break for it.

“Fuck!” Lynton curses under his breath as the delirious woman heads away from him, back the way she had come with the two boys.

Rash has some difficulty with her willing victim, even though he is far more cooperative than Lynton’s, she needs two preparatory breaths to pull the trigger.

“I’ll be back, Rash,” Lynton says, his voice low with defeat.

“I’ll come too,” she calls as he stalks off.

Putting this girl down is a preventative measure to keep the plague from spreading, and meant as an act of mercy, saving her the indignity of coming back as a decomposing ghoul. At least it is supposed to be, to the sergeants it feels more like hunting as they follow the blood trail of the dying, frightened girl. They can hear her slamming herself against something, a metallic clang allows them to zero in on where she is. They find her at an emergency exit, trying to get out.

“Want me to take this one?” Rash asks.

“I got it,” Lynton assures. He aims his rifle at the girl, aligning his sights with the back of her head as she struggles to figure out how to open the door. She hears them and slowly turns to face her killers. Lynton fires ending the girl’s torment with a single shot between her pleading eyes. She falls backwards against the door and it opens.

The humanitarian effort leaves Lynton feeling ill. Rash knows the queasy sensation, she had let a girl go in the past to avoid feeling it. She had been told a sad tale and let it get to her, only to find out the story was a fabricated yarn. Lynton’s friend touches his arm to let him know she is there for him, he isn’t given the time to appreciate the gesture. Moaning enters through the exit, lots of moaning.

22

“Yes, Gloria, fine!” a man gives up and admits to his wife, the pair haven’t stopped fighting since they got to the concession area. “I was looking at her breasts! They were covered in blood. I was concerned.”

“Checking out a dying girl,” the woman counters. “What kind of person are you, Howard?”

Most have already grown tired of the bickering couple. Killian has stopped paying them any attention and fixes his brother something to eat. “Mustard only, right?” he asks his brother though he knows how he takes his hot dogs. He wants his little sibling to answer him since he hasn’t said a word since the shots rang out.

Before the kid can say anything everyone is shocked by more gunfire, a veritable firefight rages in the halls where the soldiers are. Between the shots they hear moaning and running.

“There’s more!” the female soldier yells to her partner.

“I’ll cover you, get to the others,” he instructs.

“I’m going to get everyone out of the auditorium!” she states.

“There’s too many, Rash!” the man’s voice booms.

The soldiers are being overrun. The moaning is growing to a deafening echo in the halls. Killian stands at the entrance to the snack stand and sees the two in fatigues head down a different hall. “Close the gate!” the one named Rash pauses long enough to call to him.

He has no idea what that means, and before he can figure it out he is spotted by the dead. Zombies are heading toward him and the rest of the people. Kelly Peel is nearby, she hops up and grabs the bottom of a retractable partition, letting her weight bring it down. Killian hurries to engage the lock and backs away quickly as the dead reach the barrier.

Only a handful of corpses came for them only to reach the sudden dead-end, legions are following the soldiers. “Hey, dead guys!” Kelly Peel yells to the corpses to get their attention off of the soldiers and onto her.

“What are you doing?” the private with them asks.

“The gate will protect us, they don’t have one,” she answers and continues to scream for the dead to come her way. “Zombies, over here!”

Killian joins in yelling to the dead in hopes of taking the heat off the sergeants, he and Kelly start including insults as if the zombies may actually care. Between bellows he glances at his brother, a boy who is usually the first to join in with yelling, especially when it involves name calling. He looks scared. All the boy can think about is his mother.

23

The dead are everywhere now, their numbers grow exponentially. Folks get bitten, get away, only to turn elsewhere. Folks die only to rise again. The armory is inexplicably locked, though the soldiers pound on the door no one opens it. There is someone inside, shooting anyone that attempts to enter through the windows. What firearms are available aren’t enough to cease the invasion from within. Panic spreads even faster than the zombies.

The door to the mess hall has been propped open but no longer do concerned people call in to the survivors as the red haze dissipates. Susan remains under her table, seeing figures more clearly as visibility improves. She dares not run to the open door just yet as a few more shots are fired. All she can do is listen to the others as they whimper, pray, and moan. The thing that created the panic, the smoke, has also kept them concealed, soon it will be gone leaving them all to face one another and whatever else is lurking among them.

She is scared, her breath catches with every glimpse of legs she sees in the thinning haze, shying away only to find herself closer to another set. She worries about the boys, out there somewhere, perhaps looking for her. She feels she has really made a mess of their lives, but they need her. Without her they will be on their own in this world.

They need me
, her resolve turns to steel. Adrenaline has been known to give people, especially moms whose children are in peril, strength beyond human limitation, speed they’ve never been capable of before. Susan moves without concern for herself, racing through the lingering smoke toward the door. She dodges the figures that appear in front of her, ignores the report of the rifle as she charges outside.

The air smells fresher as she searches the night for signs of her kids. People are screaming, shots are being fired at the armory, civilians and soldiers alike run with fear from shambling figures. Susan ignores it all, her senses are open only for her boys. They all had plans to go to the concert, her legs are already taking her that way without needing an order from her brain.

The living are scared for their lives, Susan has bigger concerns. As a herd of frightened survivors dash past her, she’s heading towards what they run from in the cold night air. She inadvertently becomes the focus of a pair of ghouls that had been chasing many but settle for the easy meal coming towards them. The running meat is too fast to grab as she changes course suddenly and darts around them. They reach and follow only to trip over their own feet and fall to the ground with nothing to stave their appetites.

24

“Aren’t you going to eat that?” Killian asks his brother who just holds his hotdog as it gets cold in his hands.

Hippo takes his eyes off a red sign on the wall that indicates where an exit can be found just down the hall, he hasn’t taken his eyes from it for several minutes even with so many people around talking and bickering. “I’m not hungry,” he replies. His mind is elsewhere, debating whether to use that exit, staring at the sign as all the others look towards the dead at the gate that moan and plead to be fed. The boy wants his mom.

Of all the people in the concession area, Killian is troubled by the presence of one in particular. He feels compelled to keep an eye on him though the sight of this guy gives him the creeps, he’s afraid of clowns. A man calling himself Brock Rottom, who apparently never removes his make-up, is among them. Though his intentions are admirable to the youth, keeping up everybody’s spirit while they hunker down together, Killian keeps stealing glances his way to make sure he isn’t coming near him. At the moment Brock is making balloon animals for the cute little girl with the lopsided pigtails, her dad smiles at the joy his daughter has in her eyes as she watches an inflated poodle take form.

“Maybe clowns aren’t so bad after all,” the youth says to his brother, but when he looks over to see if he’s heard him Hippo is gone.

25

The dead on their heels, Sergeants Rashida Steele and Ezekiel Lynton are running out of hallway. Ahead of them is an exit and they have a mere second to decide if they’ll use it.

“There’s still people in the auditorium,” Rash reminds her partner.

“We’ll never get to them,” Lynton says. “We’ll be no good to them dead.”

He’s right, the zombies in the halls have them outnumbered, they may be slow but there’s too many of them and too few bullets. They have to leave.

They hit the door and exit into the night, letting the emergency door close behind them slowly on its pneumatic arm. The thought to release the corpses, give the folks inside more of a chance did present itself, however their number one job in the event of an outbreak is containment. They have to seal the dead in.

Rash feels sick once the door is closed, she looks back as the dead slam against it and press against the glass. To prevent the emergency exit from inadvertently opening, Lynton wedges a long flat rock from the building’s edging against the frame.

The two turn, unsure where they can go. The dead are everywhere chasing the living. Rash spots a window of safety in all the ensuing madness. “The motor pool,” she indicates, already dashing toward the corrugated steel building.

A woman is running straight for the building they have escaped, Lynton catches her arm. “Ma’am, you don’t want to go in there,” he warns.

“My boys are in there!” the mother replies as she pulls her arm out of his iron grip with shocking ease.

“It’s overrun,” Rash tries to reason with the frantic woman who stops at the glass door, face to face with the dead trapped inside. “We have a group locked in the concession area,” she offers a kernel of hope, not expecting the woman to take it as an instruction.

Before the soldiers can convince her to come with them, she’s running around the building. All winter the survivors have been offered movies and shows, along with many other USO sponsored diversions. The mother has a general idea where to go to find her children.

“Come on, Rash,” Lynton says, taking his partner’s arm as he had the woman’s, only this time he won’t let her pull out of his grasp. Rash attempts, wanting to aid the lady, the resistance she feels in her arm is enough to convince her that it’s time for them to worry about themselves. Low on ammo, they head for the garage as the base falls around them.