Redemption of the Dead (29 page)

Joe looked to Tracy.

“We don’t have a lot of options,” she
said. “We basically go high up or low down, low down being the
ideal.”

She was
right. As much as being above street level would provide protection
from the creatures roaming the streets, once the giants got active
again, it would only be a matter of time before one would knock
something down.

“So be it,” Joe said.

Word spread backward throughout the
group.

“Everyone stay together,” Dean said.
“Ready?”

Everyone nodded.

“Then we move.”

The group stayed hud
dled together as one, eleven in all. Packing up to leave
was limited to getting armed, a few basic supplies like canned
beans, soups, cans of Coke, and everyone’s single piece of armor.
Joe’s was an arm guard for his forearm. Tracy had on a shin pad.
Dean wore a chest pad. One of the trainers had a helmet. The others
wore similar items.

The streets
were empty, but not leaving anything to chance, all walked with
their weapons at the ready. No one talked as per instruction and
were only allowed to speak if they spotted one of the
creatures.

After
crossing the street, they turned north on the sidewalk,
sidestepping any obstacles and abandoned, rotting body parts. Joe
stepped over someone’s hand. Coming up behind an old rusty Camaro,
the group stopped, tightened up together, and scanned the
area.

“If we
continue that way” —Dean pointed past a fallen billboard sign—
“we’ll come up next to the MTS Centre and then, if all is clear,
we’ll go along the building opposite, locate the doors and
assess.”

“How badly damaged is it over there?”
Joe asked.

“Haven’t
been in a long time, but last I saw it, the entrance to Cityplace
was still there. That could be different now, though, just a heads
up.”

Dean waved for the group to continue
on as they stayed out of sight as best they could while also taking
a round-about way to their destination so as to sidestep the
gathered dead beyond.

The group
moved and any time someone spoke, they were shushed. A couple of
times they stopped and listened close for shuffling footsteps, but
heard none. The groans filling the air were growing louder, which
Joe didn’t understand. Zombies rarely increased their volume.
During an attack it might happen as their aggression sometimes came
out through their groans, but a genuine crescendo didn’t make
sense.

“I don’t like this,” Tracy
said.

“Me neither,” said Joe.

“Shush,” came someone from
behind.

They kept on
. . . and a haunting feeling crawled up Joe’s spine, over his chest
and heart, and settled in his stomach. His ears picked up a rough
scraping sound, like sandpaper over very coarse wood. It wasn’t
singular either. It was a chorus of them.

“We got to move,” Joe said and got in
front of Dean, taking the lead.

“What’re
you—”

“Take up the rear, guard the
back.”

“You’re not in charge.”

“We’re about
to have a real big problem; someone skilled and who knows these
people should take up the rearguard. Tracy and I will cover the
front. You got those two big guys—Rob and somebody—to cover the
middle.” He nodded toward the trainers.

It was clear Dean didn’t want to.
Tracy put a hand on his shoulder and gently said,
“Please?”

He looked into her eyes, clearly
displeased, but nodded and headed toward the back.

There were a few murmurs amongst the
group asking what was going on.

The scraping sounds slightly
faded.

Joe led the group down the same route Dean would’ve, his
.9mm always at the ready.
Really wish I had the X-09 right now. Really miss that
thing.
That gun, his own
design and build, was like an extra limb for him, an extension of
himself. The .9mm, though effective, felt like he was trying to
play ball with someone else’s glove.

They came in
behind the MTS Centre, the large parking lot in the back covered in
a mash of cars, twisted metal and plastic, chunks of the ground
churned up from the giants.

“We cross here,” Joe said, “then head
over to the building across the way. Turn right and we’ll check the
doors.”

“Should send scouts,” Tracy
said.

“We need to stick
together.”

“What if the
doors are completely smashed in? Be nice to know, don’t you
think?”

“We stick together.”

“Don’t think
it’s a good idea, not sending a couple of guys.”

“I hear you, I really do, but the last
thing we need is for anyone to get separated.” He knew that she
knew he was right in that regard; at the same time, Tracy was
right, too.

The scraping sounds
returned.

She said,
“They’re all gathered, last we saw. Unless . . .”

Joe looked her in the eyes and hoped
his gaze told her his fear.

“We better get a move on,” she
said.

The group
traversed the parking lot at a brisk jog; almost at the other side
and Joe spread out his arms to hold up the group.

“Hold on a sec,” he said and ran off
to the side.

“What’re you doing?” Tracy called
after him. A few of the other folks chimed in as well.

Joe reached
the far edge of the lot, near the corner. Coming up Main by the
train station was an army of the dead. He couldn’t see the end of
the horde because of a building in the way, but of the ones he did
see he estimated there were at least thirty of them. As
tightly-packed as the throng of the dead was, they didn’t move in
one big block, but instead were loose in their approach and some
started to drift down the same street as the entrance to
Cityplace.

Joe ran back to the group. “We need
another way in. There’s a plethora of them on Main, probably
heading toward the gathering, but some are moving this way. If they
see us, we could have an army of them on our tail.”

Tracy passed
on the news to Dean. A woman beside him said, “Where’s
Jessica?”

Joe heard
the question and looked around. Jessica, the same Asian girl that
had refused to let Jerry in, had gone over to where Joe saw the
dead. She must’ve heard him and separated, unnoticed.

To Tracy, he
said, “I’ll grab her. You and Dean lead them to another way
in.”

“If there is no other way, if
everything’s blocked?”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Joe ran off. When he caught up to Jessica, he said, “Come on, let’s
go,” and grabbed her by the hand.

“No,” she
said and started walking forward toward the zombie
horde.

Joe pulled
her back. “Are you crazy? They’ll kill you or make you one of
them.”

“I deserve it,” she said. “I deserve
to die. It’s my fault Jerry’s dead. He died because I didn’t let
him in.”

With a hard tug, he pulled her toward
the group. Even when she tried to pull away, he kept his hold on
her.

“You’re hurting me,” she
said.

“You’re hurting yourself if you think
walking into a pack of those monsters is going to make amends for
what you think you did, which was nothing, by the way.”

“I know. I did nothing.”

“I meant you
didn’t do anything wrong. You acted in what you thought would be
best to keep the group safe.”

“Let me go,”
she said, then jerked her hand away and started to run.

Joe took a few large strides, caught
her, lifted her up and put her over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” she screamed. “Put me
doooowwwwnnn!”

“Quiet. They’ll hear you.” He turned
around.

The undead had and a few were already
starting in their direction.

* * * *

“Are we there yet?” Billie asked
Sven.

“Not yet. At
least two more hours yet. Go back to sleep.” He put his arm around
her; she didn’t mind.

“This is
boring,” she said, but knew she needed the rest, her body and mind
in dire need of some catch-up. Her headache had alleviated some,
however. “I hope it doesn’t take too long when we get there. Is it
cold in Wales? Wait, never mind. The weather is the same
everywhere.”

She checked
out the crates of weapons. Some were small, the size of a TV, but
others stood large, some the size of a refrigerator or deep
freezer. The Jetliers were in some of those crates. She wondered
which ones held those silver weapons. She hadn’t minded the
handguns she used when getting Greg and Nole from the
elevators.

The downtime on the flight had given her some time to
think. Heading back home would also mean heading back to the place
she lost Des.
Her
Des, not the one that was a monster
in disguise. The guy had been a hardcore gamer, an ear, and a good
friend. Though the two were never together in the official sense,
Billie always considered her and Des a couple in terms of best
friends. Man, she missed him.

“Really wish
you were alive,” she said softly, the sickening feeling that she
hadn’t even taken the time to properly mourn him settling in her
gut. “I’m sorry we let you die.”

Putting her
arm around Sven’s middle and gripping him hard, she put her face
into his chest and started to cry.

* * * *

The group was already moving closer to
the north side of the MTS Centre when Joe and Jessica caught up
with them.

“What happened?” Tracy
asked.

“Later.” He
adjusted Jessica on his shoulder, but didn’t put her down. She was
too busy crying to fight anymore anyway. “We got some stragglers
headed our way. I counted five. Hopefully there’s no
more.”

The undead turned the corner and were
coming toward the parking lot. A couple of them moved fairly
slowly, but the remainder must’ve still had their ankles intact as
they walked quickly and firmly.

Tracy faced them. They were at least
thirty or forty feet away. She raised her gun, took aim, and fired.
The first zombie took a bullet to the head. She fired again and
dropped a second. The one further back she hit in the shoulder. It
stopped for a second then kept on. Her next shot took it
down.

“That’s enough,” Joe said. “Save
it.”

At least she
got them some distance from the remainder. Back with the group,
they kept on until they hit the street and saw another crowd of the
creatures, most of them making their way to the gathering, but
another group of rotters saw them and started heading their
way.

Guns went
off immediately as a couple in the group started to take shots,
dropping only three of a procession of nine coming their
way.

“Man,
where’d you learn how to shoot?” said Rob. “This is how it’s done.”
He took aim and popped a zombie in the head. He did the same to
another.

Past the group on the other side, more
of the creatures came, three sides out of four now covered. They
had no choice but to go back the way they came.

They
retraced their steps, this time not as organized. An undead male
came in from the side and took hold of one of the ladies. He was
already biting her by the time she shrieked. Before the person next
to her was able to aim their weapon, the zombie had taken the woman
down and was ripping her flesh with his teeth. The shots rang out,
two of them. The zombie on top of the woman fell flat. When Rob
came to pull their friend away, he stopped, let the person’s arm
fall to the ground, and said, “Bullet went right through this
rotter. Hit her in the chest. She’s dead.” He aimed down at the
woman and waited. Moments later, she started to twitch and he put a
bullet in her head.

As they
moved, Joe shot down a couple of zombies; Tracy, too. Dean had only
fired once. Maybe he was one of those guys who was careful with
bullets, which was a good thing, Joe thought.

The undead
started to come out, the noise of the scuffle tipping them off.
With no place to go, he wasn’t sure how long their group would
survive.

* * * *

28

New Place

T
racy took aim
and brought down an undead teen girl
wearing a black T-shirt and ripped jeans headed there way. She took
out another teen girl in a blue T-shirt a moment later.

Since they
had no choice but to go back the way they came, their best bet
would be to get to the safe house’s back entrance and try and hold
up in the area between the door and the safe house proper. If the
dead had somehow got through the front door, odds of them finding
the back door and getting through that in this short a time was
minimal.

Not everyone
in the group were warriors. One of the men started to panic and
kept tripping over his feet. Hal came in and picked him up while
firing a shot off into the head of an approaching zombie. Another
of the creatures came in from behind and took the trainer out at
the knees, its rotten mouth attached to the trainer’s calves.
Amidst the shouts of pain, two folks surrounding them tried to
rescue him, but were mauled themselves. Dean shot down the
attacking zombies, then ran up to Tracy.