The Week of the Dead (17 page)

“Easy, Dad.” Junior placed a hand on his father’s shoulder. “It’s OK, Junior.” The right soldier placed his hand of the rifle barrel of his companion. “Don’t, dude. They are people.”

“We don’t need their shit. We are maintaining order here. Move it, Civilian!”

“I need to show your commanding officer vital information. Now, are you going to let us by?” Ethan asked, which was followed by a voice to his right.

“He said he had information for your commanding officer. Now do I have to kick the shit out of you in order for him to do so?” said Junior’s dad. Junior’s dad came alongside the soldier and pointed his hand in a knife formation in the left soldier’s face. “We ain’t got time for this shit, Private! I am Colonel Richard Sherman, retired SEAL, and I
will
beat your ass if you don’t get out of my way!”

Richard waited three seconds for a response. The private pressed his gun to the old man’s chest. “Wrong answer.” In one swift move, Richard pulled the gun out of the private’s hands and instantly pushed it back into his chest. The private was stunned. Richard didn’t hesitate. He used the sling of the rifle over his back and leaned forward choking the soldier into submission and stood with his foot on the chest of the downed soldier. Junior punched the right soldier in the face and placed his bowie knife to his chest. “Don’t move!” Ethan picked up the sidearm from the left soldier. “Shouldn’t have been a dick,” he said as he walked into the military tent. No one paid any attention to the group who walked in. “General Bartlett!” Ethan shouted.

He was barely heard over the ruckus happening inside the tent. He looked to Josh, who shrugged his shoulders. Richard came to his side and flipped the corkboard table over, spilling all the loose papers as it came to the ground with a crashing bang. His muscles showed through his light jeans. The military personnel made their focus to the group, especially Ethan who held a firearm. “He’s got a gun!” one shouted. Ethan kept the pistol at his side until he was met with an audience of firearms aimed at him. He stood still and closed his eyes until he heard a familiar voice. “What the hell is going on here!” Ethan opened his eyes to see a tall, slender-built man in army camouflage with a general’s insignia pinned on his collar. Ethan dropped the gun and held out the phone. “I have vital information, and one of your guards is a dick-faced asshat who just got his ass beat!” Ethan’s voice cracked as he let his panic subside. General Bartlett motioned for his personnel to lower their weapons.

“You could have asked, son.”

“I did.” Ethan motioned to the left soldier being stood on by the young man with the big hat and Bowie knife.

“What is it?” Bartlett asked.

“I think I know what happened.” Ethan opened the phone to display the prerecorded video.

Revenge

Chapter 37

Tuesday 0930 CST

St. Louis

T
ricia had crawled into the elevator and shut the door. She locked herself in the small elevator and checked her situation. The creatures that were in the elevator had followed Danny up the stairs. Her back ached from the blow of the tire iron, but she could wiggle her toes. She slowly tried to stand. She stood with the aid of the handrail in the elevator. “I’m going to kill him!” Tricia said as she regained her posture.

“First floor,” Tricia said as she pressed the button. With a
ding
of the elevator, the doors opened to the lobby of the apartment complex. She stuck her head out and looked around. She went to the desk. She picked up the phone and dialed
911
, but she only got an answering machine telling her to stay indoors. “
Yeah, cause apartments aren’t flammable
,” she thought. She looked around the desk for anything useful. She found a pair of scissors, which she held like knife. Then she turned the computer on. “Where are you?” she said out loud as she was looking through the computer. “414.”

She calmly pressed the elevator button again. When the elevator chimed, a bloody face planted itself against the glass on the outside of the lobby doors. She paid it no attention as she let the elevator doors closed. The fourth-floor button was illuminated by her fingers.

Danny had patched his wounds up. The wounds weren’t too deep. He applied some Tegaderm dressings and pulled his shirt back down. He went to the kitchen and made him something to eat. As he chewed on his sandwich, he kept thinking about that punk-ass kid stabbing him. Danny threw his sandwich on the counter and went into the bedroom. He lifted the side of his mattress and produced a handgun. He checked the action and made his way out the door.

Danny went to Kyle’s apartment door. “Kyle! You in there buddy? I want to talk to you.” There wasn’t any answer from the other side of the door. “I’m not mad, little man. I just want to talk.” Again, there was no response. Danny looked at both ends of the empty hall. He reared back and kicked the door in with one kick. The apartment was dark. Danny flicked on the lights. He saw two bodies in the kitchen. They stirred upon the sound of the door being kicked in. Danny raised his pistol and put four rounds into them.

Danny kicked open the next bedroom door. It was Kyle’s, but no one was there. He even checked under the bed. He walked through the little hall and found another closed door. He kicked it open as well. What was on the other side of the door surprised him. It was dark, but he could make out the silhouette of Kyle leaning over something. He held his little knife straight down, letting the blood drip onto something. “There, there.” Kyle’s little voice spoke.

“I’m going to take care of you now.” Danny inched forward. Unless Kyle was in some sort of trance, he should have been aware of Danny kicking in the door. Danny extended his arm and fired one round into the back of Kyle’s head. The little human body drooped over the thing he was leaning against.

Danny turned to walk away when he heard a high-pitched moan coming from Kyle’s body. He turned again and fired another round into the corpse that wasn’t moving. Danny turned on the ceiling light to display the bright purple and pink walls. There was Fisher-Price stuff everywhere along with stuffed animals. “Oh shit!” Danny said as he walked toward Kyle’s body. He grabbed the boy by the ankle and pulled him off the piece of furniture, which turned out to be a manger. Danny rubbed his hands over his short hair when he saw what was in the manger. In the manger was a tiny body that was still moving. Its pale skin and naturally bald head reflected the light above it. Danny saw where Kyle had been dropping drips of blood into and around its mouth. “Fuck this!” Danny said as he raised the pistol and fired. The impact from the handgun was enough to blow the infant’s head clean off.

Danny grabbed anything he thought might be useful or valuable. He picked up the empty casings he dispensed. He calmly closed the door. He went back to his apartment. He threw arm loads of stuff onto the counter. He went to pick up his sandwich that he had left. Only it wasn’t there. He stared at the blank counter that held a few pieces of bread crumbs and what looked like pickle juice. His blank stare ended when he felt something warm trickle down his back. He reached back to see red blood on his fingertips. “I faked it,” a female voice said. Danny turned around to see Tricia standing there with a pair of scissors dripping blood onto his kitchen floor. Danny went to pull his pistol out, but it was kicked free by Tricia’s
Muay Thai
skills. She brought the scissors down into his neck. Danny dropped to the floor. Tricia kicked him over, and blood began to pool around him. She grabbed what looked like his gym bag and began packing food and clothes. She grabbed the pistol and began rummaging through his apartment.

Base

Chapter 38

Tuesday 0400

Fort Knox

P
hil’s Chinook helicopter landed at Fort Knox. The first thing they saw were the fences and military personnel stationed everywhere. “Sleeping quarters are to the left. Food to the right!” he heard over the helicopter blades’ twirling. The band quickly exited the helicopter ramp and away from all the noise. “All here?” Harrison asked as he looked around. He touched Mia’s shoulder and saw the back of Phil’s head as Paul bounced in front of him. The helicopter lifted off again. As they were exiting, Paul saw them refueling the helicopters as they were unloading. The pilot stepped out of the helicopter to urinate openly on the landing pad.

Phil looked at the civilians. Their cold dark faces. They had the wits scared out of them. They were cowering, shielding their faces from the light, the darkness, and the sickness that was circling around them. There weren’t enough antibiotics to go around. With the mass amounts of people coming into the fort, they didn’t have ample supplies for such a massive influx of survivors. Phil walked through the camp looking at the sick and deathly ill. This was sickness of the old world, the way people used to die. Flu, asthma, cancer, dysentery, and even a paper cut was now a death sentence. Phil watched as some people’s skin had become jaundice yellow from lack of access to dialysis machines. They were slowly decaying from sicknesses that weren’t treatable anymore, not in the new world—the world where the dead returned to life.

Rooftop Access

Chapter 39

Wednesday 0300

St. Louis

T
ricia slept at Danny’s place. She felt weird sleeping in a bed when there was a dead body on the other side of the door. In the middle of the night, the bedroom was filled with a white light. She heard the whirling sounds of a helicopter. She heard someone speaking over the intercom, but she couldn’t make it out. She jumped up and threw the gym bag around her shoulder. She stepped over Danny’s dead body. She spit on him as she walked out the door and made her way to the staircase. There, she was met with a group of humans. They also heard the sounds of the helicopter. They were making their way to the roof. She followed suit. She ran up the staircase all the way to the fifteenth floor. There, the staircase was filling with the sound of wind gushing, helicopter blades, and the ensuing stampede.

When Tricia made it through the door, she was instantly terrified. There was a massive helicopter landed, and six soldiers were in full tactical gear. It made Tricia felt inadequate with Danny’s pistol stuffed in her yoga pants. She took a seat on the helicopter. She watched as more people began to fill the helicopter. The soldiers quickly began backing up. There was a popping sound coming from the doorway. It was barely audible over the sound of the helicopter.

The soldiers backed on to the helicopter. Through the doorway came a man. He was firing blindly behind him as he ran toward the helicopter. As the helicopter lifted off the ground, the man jumped in, and his face landed not far from Tricia’s foot. The man grabbed Tricia’s foot as he tried to pull himself up to his feet. Tricia uncoordinatedly drew her pistol. It was knocked loose by the man. “I ain’t dead yet!” the man said grumpily.

Darkness

Chapter 40

Tuesday 2300 CST

Millington

J
amison slept soundly on the floor in the basement. He had finally had a moment of peaceful sleep only to have it disturbed by Daniels. “Your turn,” Daniels said as he lightly tapped the boots of Jamison.

“My turn already?”

“Aye, sir. It’s been three hours,” Daniels said as he exchanged places with Jamison, who grabbed his rifle. They were taking shifts on watch. Jamison quietly made his way through the farmhouse, trying to make as little noise as possible in his military gear. He was tired, but he had a job to do. Someone had to keep a lookout while everyone slept. He made it to the front porch. He could see the radio towers blinking in the distance.
Serene
, he thought as he found a stool and placed his body upon it. The porch was illuminated by a light on a pole. The illumination spread from the pole and covered the makeshift motor pool, the porch, and a few feet of the gravel pathway that lead to the farm house. Beside the stool was another stool. Someone had left a pack of cigarettes and most of a bottle of soda. Jamison sipped on the soda and lit himself a cigarette. “
Shitty days call for meek rewards
,” he told himself.

As he drew on the cigarette, he noticed how calm and tranquil the country was. He felt the wind blowing. He heard the frogs croaking. He saw an endless view of darkness. He finished his cigarette and flicked it off the side of the porch. “Only you can prevent forest fires.”

Jamison startled to his feet. “Who the fuck is there?” he said, waving his firearm in the direction of the wind blowing.

“Friendly. Friendly,” the voice said.

“Bullshit. Show yourself!” Devin raised his head from the roof of the transport truck.

“Don’t shoot me.”

Jamison lowered his weapon to see the familiar face. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“I was sleeping until I heard Daniels leave. He knew I was out here.”

“Fucking rat didn’t mention it.”

Devin sat up and held his hands open in a catching motion. “Hey man, toss me that pack.” Jamison noticed tally marks on Devin’s arm. He counted the tally marks.

“What is that? Did you get scratched?”

“No, I want to keep count of my kills. Something I did when I was like you.”

“Like me?”

“I used to be a ranger.” Jamison threw the pack in Devin’s direction. The wind caught it and blew it to the back of the tarp on the transport truck. Devin stood on the roof and started to crawl over the support beams to the pack of cigarettes. He picked up the pack and showed it to Jamison and made his way back to the metal roof of the truck. “Where’s your girl?” Jamison asked. Devin held the lighter up to his cupped hands. He stopped. Something stirred in the distance. He lifted his head. “Psst,” Devin said as he quietly dropped to a prone position in the truck, trying not to let the metal buckle from his weight. Jamison had heard it too. He shouldered his weapon.

He didn’t leave the porch. He was the only defense for the front door from the road. “What is it?” Jamison asked in a hushed tone.

“Something is coming. Single, bipedal, sounds like it’s dragging something.”