Whatever It Takes (3 page)

Nadia’s scream split the air as cleanly as a hot knife through butter. She slipped and tumbled, striking the boards and laying there for half a second before rolling with the impact and toppling the three stories to the pavement below.

Percival heard the crunch of her impact and the painful crack of bones breaking. He sank to his knees. When he put her last to cross the bridge he’d signed her death warrant. He’d failed her. He’d broken his promise to her.

Nadia’s screams echoed up the wall. It wouldn’t be long before the undead found her.

The rain also brought danger and disaster.

“Get the fuck up!” Sarah’s voice seemed to echo through the endless drone of rain.

Percival was vaguely aware of gunshots going off near him and the clatter of the wooden planks as they were shoved off to keep the zombies from following them. He was more acutely aware of Nadia’s screams as they echoed up to him. A hand at the cuff of his shirt jerked him backward and threw him to his backside.

His vision blurred and he squinted up into the falling rain. Between the haze the rain created and the darkness of night, he didn’t see the hand coming until after it had slapped hard across his face. It left a sharp, stinging, burn on his cheek. It also drew him back to his senses. The same hand that had slapped him thrust his helmet at him.

Nadia’s screams had stopped, but the pain that Percival had expected to hit him, didn’t. He snatched the helmet from the hand and picked himself up. The others were gathered around him.

Karl looked at him with a look that said he knew what Percival was going through. Evan seemed shaken, as did Andrina. Roy Joy was staring off through the pouring rain and listening to something only he seemed to hear. Sarah looked angry. It dawned on Percival that his right-hand lady had been the one to slap him to his senses.

He cleared his throat and tugged his helmet back onto his head. If he didn’t show strength now, they’d not continue to follow him. He could grieve quietly and privately later. Now was the time to make decisions and keep the rest of them alive. He hated leading. He hated holding people’s lives in his hands.

He slid the visor of the motorcycle helmet up and cleared his throat. Everyone except Roy Joy looked at him.

“We leave. Now. I’ll take the rear guard as we cross the roofs. Three buildings west-“ he pointed in the direction he hoped was west and hoped no one contradicted him, “-and then one north. If I remember correctly there’s a fire escape there that we can use to get safely back to the street level.”

He didn’t feel the need to express that the zombies likely wouldn’t readily chase them at the street level with the downpour and a fresh meal. It was mostly written across their faces already. He needed to give them a direction to run, something to distract them from the new loss. Percival let his gaze swing around the group assembled around him and settled it on Karl.

“I want you to take point. I trust you’ll guide us to the exit.” Percival hefted a backpack onto his shoulders and clipped it into place. He accepted the sledgehammer from Roy Joy as he passed him.

“Sure,” Karl said. He turned and moved away in the direction that Percival had pointed before.

Percival hefted the sledgehammer to his shoulder and slapped the visor of the motorcycle helmet back down into place. The act cut the sounds of the environment down to the drone of the rain on the hard plastic surrounding his head. It also cut his field of vision significantly, but it was a necessary constraint as a single drop of infected blood could spell doom for a person. Every person in his team, wore some sort of face covering, ranging from a set of swimming goggles and a respirator to a full on gas-mask.

*

Percival dropped off the last rung of the fire escape ladder and looked around. Three zombies lay crumpled around the ladder. Karl had crushed their skulls with his crowbar before they’d had time to utter a feeding moan. Small blessings came with the rain, though that was beginning to die out. It had lessened, and slackened to almost a drizzle in the past few minutes.

It was leaving Percival tired out. But he couldn’t rest yet, especially when they were far from a safe location. He looked both ways up and down the alleyway. It had an open mouth at both ends. He wasn’t entirely sure which direction would be best to go.

Roy Joy sighed, quite audibly despite the gasmask he wore, and pointed. “That way. Fredward said they’d be thinner to the East.”

Percival frowned, and was glad that the motorcycle helmet would hide his face. He was being indecisive and Roy Joy had just pulled him out of the fire, metaphorically speaking.

“Right. East it is. Move quickly, move quietly,” Percival said. “Karl, you stay on point, I’ll continue to bring up the rear.”

Karl’s shoulders slumped for a moment, but he nodded and turned away toward one mouth of the alleyway. The other survivors fell in behind him.

“At dawn we’ll hole up in the most secure looking building and check our map for where to go next.” Percival wished they had been able to spend more time in the department store. Most of his friends looked exhausted by the short jaunt across the rooftops to this point. Everyone except Roy Joy looked exhausted. The man never seemed to tire when on the move, despite what most people would expect of someone of his girth.

“Move.”

Karl led the group away from the fire escape and to the mouth of the alleyway. Percival followed behind Sarah, taking the opportunity to move close to her. He pushed the visor up so he could project a whisper to her a little easier.

“I’m sorry.”

She was silent and still for a long moment. Percival wondered if she’d heard him, and was glad that Karl was being overly cautious, giving him more time to try and talk with her.

“I shouldn’t have don-“ he started to say.

“Shut up. We’ll talk about it later,” she muttered as she glanced over her shoulder. Her N95 mask moved slightly as she spoke, and she sounded slightly angry. She looked away from him and shouldered her shotgun.

Percival felt slightly sick to his stomach and moved his visor back down. He’d not felt sick like this since the initial outbreak had ravished the college community of Prosperity Wells. He’d not felt sick since he’d put down his first zombie.

He sighed softly and shook his head.

Karl moved out into the street, clearing one side with his pistol. Evan and Roy Joy followed him, the youth remaining between the two men and pointing the hunting rifle in a third direction as Roy Joy covered the opposite stretch of street.

Sarah and Andrina walked after them into the street. Percival followed them, turning around to make sure no quiet zombie had decided to creep up after from the alleyway. He watched the alleyway. The dissipating rain was creating a fog that sank over the streets and made seeing very far difficult. Their flashlights caught the hanging droplets of moisture in the air.

The group of survivors clustered in the middle of the street. Being out in the darkness of night was one thing, but combining it with the uncertainty that fog brought was making them further nervous. It didn’t help Percival’s already weak stomach, or his ability to make quick decisions. He doubted himself and his ability to keep them safe.

Percival swept his hand across the front of his helmet and pointed up the street away from the department store they’d fled. “We’re going that way. It’s away from the horde we just escaped.”

He carefully kept his voice even and smooth as he spoke. It was the tone he’d used to direct people back on the Brown College campus. It was his leadership voice. It was the tone people seemed to respond best to.

Karl nodded, and started up the street without a word. The others followed him and Percival brought up the rear. The town had an eerily quiet feel to it. The normally constant moans of the undead were dampened by the fog and lost to the darkness as the group moved along the streets.

*

As the sun rose it tinged the horizon with golden rays that illuminated the fog with an odd yellow hue. The group of silent survivors continued to walk until Percival called out.

“Stop. We search this building and rest here,” Percival said.

Roy Joy nodded slowly. “No windows on the ground floor. Good choice.”

“We split into pairs. No one goes alone. Search by the book, one pair watches our front door.” Percival moved up to the front door. It was a solid wooden door with a single brass door knob. Through the night they’d walked from the business district of the town to the residential area. He pushed on the door while twisting the handle.

He was slightly surprised when it opened without any resistance. Percival opened the door an inch and kicked the door wide open. He hefted the sledgehammer and walked indoor. Sarah followed him, shining a light around the interior of the initial room.

The building was an apartment building with a large central staircase stretching upward and several doors lead out of the central room. The other survivors followed them into the room. Flashlight beams swept the room, revealing the area.

Percival looked to Andrina and Evan. “I want you two to cover the door.”

Evan nodded and Andrina simply turned to watch the growing light from the rising sun outside.

Percival moved into the center of the stairwell and looked up. While it was difficult to tell, he thought the stairs stretched up to three floors. If it was it would match his assumptions for how tall the building seemed from the outside.

He brought his flashlight down and swung it around to shine on Roy Joy and Karl. “I want you two to check the ground floor. Sarah and I’ll check the third floor. We’ll meet up on the second and check it together.”

Roy Joy quirked an eyebrow up, and stared right at Percival’s flashlight. “That’s not standard protocol. We should stick together. What if Querrel wants to say ‘hello’ from the third floor?”

“Come on, crazy,” Karl said, dropping a hand onto Roy Joy’s shoulder and tugging him away from the entrance to the building and toward the nearest apartment door.

Percival was glad that Karl was helping to herd the insane man into doing what he’d told him to do. It was difficult to manage a group when someone didn’t want to follow orders. Not that Percival entirely disagreed with someone disobeying right about now given what had happened to Nadia.

He shook the thought from his head and turned to go to the stairs. Sarah had already climbed nearly halfway up the first set. He cradled the sledgehammer and started up the stairs, taking them two at a time, as he heard Karl’s crowbar crack into the first door.

Percival caught up to Sarah halfway through the second set of stairs. Together they climbed in silence to the second floor and walked around to the next flight of stairs. At the first step he glanced over at her. She looked stoic and determined. He frowned for a moment, glad that he still wore the motorcycle helmet and it hid his face. He flipped up the visor.

“Thank you.”

“What the fuck for?” Sarah asked without hesitation or missing a beat in their climb.

“Helping me regain my senses.”

“Don’t ever make me do that again. Ever.” Her voice held an undertone of fright that sent a shiver down Percival’s spine. “She didn’t deserve to die. Certainly not like that, but it won’t your fault either. Alright?”

“Right.” Percival knew he didn’t convey truthfulness in the single word answer. He didn’t believe it himself. He had killed Nadia by having her walk last. It would have been different if he’d had his normal rear guard walk the plank last; or if he had chosen to go last. The result would have been different if he had simply chosen a better action.

Sarah stopped and turned to face him three steps from the third floor. It was as though she could read his mind. “Stop it. A) What’s done is done. B) Whoever was last on that bridge was going to fall. You’re our leader and everyone dies sometime. Stop cheapening Nadia’s sacrifice by beating yourself up over it.”

“But I—“ Percival started to say.

Sarah pressed her hand to his helmet. “We’re not going to fault you for any decision that was sound. Trust me. Okay?”

Percival nodded, wondering how she could be quite so strong.

“Good. Now we’ve gotta job to do. If you really need to complain about it more, do it later. I’ll even let it cut into our private time, slightly.”

Percival slid his visor back down. He didn’t feel a whole lot better, but then again, he was shouldering responsibility for everyone. Even the thought of sex with Sarah later didn’t really brighten his outlook.

She turned away and climbed the last few stairs and walked to the first door.

*

Percival brought the sledgehammer around into the door just below the doorknob. He heard the frame splinter on the opposite side and the door popped open. He immediately ducked out of the way as Sarah swept her shotgun and flashlight around the room.

Open curtains allowed sunlight to drift into the apartment and helped to illuminate it. Percival would have preferred to have a good old fashioned working light-switch, but such luxuries had faded with the rolling blackouts three weeks after the mass outbreak. If you didn’t have a generator after that, you didn’t have power.

Sarah cleared the room a second time from the doorway before entering the living room of the apartment. Percival followed her.

The room looked almost identical to the others they’d searched that morning. Directly across from them the door lead to the bathroom while its neighbor lead to the bedroom. The kitchen was separated from the rest of the room by a counter. The room itself was sparsely decorated with what looked like the same couch, television, and glass coffee table as the other five apartments they’d searched on the third floor.

What was different was the smell. Percival’s helmet would keep all blood splatter from entering his eyes or mouth, but it did little for stopping various offending smells from entering. He’d been around the living dead long enough now that recognizing their smell was nearly second nature. Fortunately enough, their rotten smell hadn’t pervaded the entire complex.