Authors: Mark Tufo
For the Fallen (29 page)
“Let’s go!” Tommy grabbed my shoulder.
He pulled me into the apartment. I watched Melanie’s eyebrows furrow in anger and
frustration as her dinner got away. Tommy was busy leveraging a couch and a dresser
against the door. He had them sufficiently pinned against a support wall that would
make getting through that door some doing from the zombies. I was too busy sobbing
to take much notice of his engineering feat, although I would later wonder why there
was a dresser in the apartment’s living room.
“Mike?” Tommy asked, placing his hand on my back. I was sitting on a chair leaned
over, my head in my hands, tears free falling from my face.
“My niece is out there, Tommy. I held her when she was first born. I babysat for her.
I may have even traumatized her when I made her watch
Dawn of The Dead
one of those times.”
“How old was she?”
“I think she was seven.”
“You let a seven-year-old watch
Dawn of the Dead
?”
“She was very adamant. God I love that kid. What am I going to do?” I asked, looking
up at him.
“The Christian thing,” he said, surprising me.
“And what the hell would that be? Exorcise her demons?”
“Put her out of her misery. And then tell her parents so they can begin the mourning
process.”
“Is there another decision tree we can pull solutions from?” I asked, trying and failing
miserably to lift my sinking spirits.
“She deserves at least that,” Tommy said.
“A bullet from her uncle…yeah, that seems fucking fair,” I said softly, anguish crushing
out my anger.
Tommy said nothing more. What could he say? Zombies were at the door to the apartment,
luckily, his make-shift defenses were holding.
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
“I’ll come with you.”
He knew where I was going and what I was going to do, and ultimately, it was our only
avenue of escape. I went into the back bedroom, my boots pressing down on the soft
pile of the rug, the sheer drapes billowing softly in a slight breeze. The bed was
made and a couple of books were on the nightstand. At a time when I wanted my senses
dulled, I was hyper-aware. Had I looked a bit longer I probably could have figured
out the thread count on the neatly turned down sheet. I opened the window further,
pulled the screen in and tossed it on the bed. I stuck my head out and reached up,
grabbing hold of the gutter. The building looked new enough that I hoped the screws
that held it in place would support my weight for the second or two that I would need.
I pulled my body out of the window and then swung my legs up and onto the roof. So
far, so good. If it gave out now, I’d be heading to the ground head first. I pushed
up with my right arm and then found myself atop the roof. Tommy looked much more graceful
as he gripped the gutter with both hands and pulled himself up high enough that he
was able to land on the roof in a standing position.
“Show off,” I told him.
Tommy had moved ten feet to my one as he headed towards the apartment front door and
our ultimate destination. I was in no rush. This wasn’t like pulling off a Band-Aid.
I wasn’t going to feel better once this was over. No, in contrast, I was going to
feel infinitely worse. I was going to kill this girl and then tell her father I’d
done so—deeper into the depths of hell I plunged. If getting my soul back had been
hanging precariously on a ledge, I’d just sprayed lighter fluid all over it, lit it
on fire, then decided to piss the flames out and kick it over the precipice.
I came up beside Tommy. He was staring over the edge and straight down at Melanie.
“Do you want me to do it?” he asked.
I shook my head and thanked him silently. “She’s my niece.” I brought the rifle up
and switched the safety off.
Her gaze shot skyward towards me. Above the din of the zombies banging on the door,
she heard that small metallic sound. Of-fucking-course she did. Her once deep blue
eyes were looking up at me; for a moment I almost saw the girl I knew. If I just stayed
focused on them, I would have not been able to shoot. It was the rage contorting the
rest of her features that made me realize she was gone and would under no circumstances
be coming back. I never heard or felt the shot as my body rocked back slightly. I
would, however, never forget the look of confusion on Melanie’s face as the bullet
dug into her head and destroyed her brain. I’ll swear to the day I die, if that ever
happens, that for the briefest of moments, she was lucid and knew that her uncle had
betrayed her.
“Come on,” Tommy said. “We have to go before the rest of them figure out where that
came from.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetie.” I turned to follow.
Tommy ran to the far side of the building and then just leaped. I was kind of in shock,
and now I had to try and figure out what he was doing. I quickly got to the edge to
see if he was alright. He was looking around and then up.
‘Come on,’ he was mouthing, moving his arm for me to follow.
“No fucking way. That’s got to be like thirty feet.” My body at this stage in my life
could barely handle the shock of a five-foot drop.
“You can’t be this dense, you’re half a vampire you’ll be fine.”
Shit
, I thought as I steeled my courage to jump. I was in the air when he added. “And
if you break something I’ll carry you.”
I hit the ground and rolled like I’d been taught in paratrooper school. It was probably
a superfluous action, but I didn’t see the reason to take any unnecessary risks.
“I don’t think any of them saw us,” Tommy said as we headed out.
Tomorrow, when the zombies cleared out, I was going to go back and give her a proper
burial.
They had pulled into a large warehouse through fences that looked as if they had been
erected post-zombie. Two large mechanically run gates patrolled by a platoon of men
let them in after doing a thorough check of them all, looking for any signs of infection.
Machine gun nests were strategically placed on the top of the building, allowing those
up there to rain hell-fire down on any and all invaders.
“I thought it would be bigger,” Doc said.
Captain Najarian laughed. “I’ve heard that before. Come on, Doc,” The captain said
as he led Doc to a hydraulically operated manhole cover.
“Down there?” Doc asked.
“Most of our base is actually down here. This warehouse merely houses the way in.
Any problems with claustrophobia?” the captain asked as he descended.
“No more than the average person. I feel apprehension at tight spots.”
“The way in is a bit tight. After that, it opens up.”
Doc was happy that he had only to walk bent over for a few hundred yards. He had been
under the mistaken impression that at some point the conduit was going to squeeze
down and they would be forced to crawl. When they came to the end, a large blast door
stood open. A Marine armed with a sub-machinegun saluted as the captain entered. When
it finally opened up, he was amazed. The initial room was, for lack of a better term,
cavernous. Man-made, but cavernous. A group of ten to twelve personnel sat hunched
over computer monitors in the center. A large screen dominated the far wall; although
nothing was projected on it at the moment.
“We’re attached to the grid, such as it is. We’ve found other holdouts, and we either
try to retrieve them or send them supplies if they’re already in a stable environment.
We’ve been able to uplink with satellites and have a decent communications grid going.”
“Impressive,” Doc said.
“We’re trying to mount a comeback, Doc. If it’s going to happen, this is where it
will start. I’m hopeful, but I’m also realistic. Man is barely holding on. Even without
the threat of zombies, man is turning on each other. We’re trying to restore some
order of normalcy before we completely do ourselves in.”
For the first time in a long while, the doc found some hope. “Weapons?” he asked.
“Some, we’ve got a few attack choppers and a few jets with more pilots to fly them
than machines to be manned. What we’re running low on is mechanics to keep them serviced.
However, this war is not going to be won with bombs and bullets, it’s going to be
won with these.” The captain pulled out a vial. “Or something like it. Come on.” He
led him across the room and through another corridor.
“What is this place? It certainly isn’t a sewer.”
“Back in the 60s, when the Cold War was in full swing and we thought the Ruskies were
going to send nukes at any moment, the US built these havens all across the States
in case the president was visiting somewhere and couldn’t get back to a safer place.
Supposedly this can withstand a direct nuclear strike.”
The doc was looking around. “I’d just be happy if it would keep zombies out.”
“In that, we are in agreement,” the captain said to him. “Welcome to the hospital
wing.” Captain Najarian swept his hand for the Doc to enter before him.
“What kind of equipment do you have here?” Doc asked in wonder. The room was easily
fifty-by-fifty and had thirty hospital beds, each with heart monitors. Most of the
beds were unoccupied.
“Just about everything a major metropolitan hospital would have. X-ray, MRI, diagnostic
machines up the wazoo. I’ll be honest, I don’t know what most of the stuff is, but
I’m told it’s top notch.”
