Human Extinction Level Loss (Book 1): Nicole's Odyssey (14 page)

Paul knew this, knew it all too well.  It was because of this that he had convinced Trevor Hamilton, his assistant at the stadium, that the Dead had to be organized.  Everybody thought of Paul as the janitor, but Paul studied things, learned how they worked, what made them tick.  He watched the Dead roam the city through the thick clear doors.  He noticed that they moved along with no stated purpose.  He remembered how they attacked, not as hunters, but as opportunists.  They would move along until something got in their way, which made them not as smart as the African ant, but just as lethal.  He figured if he could get them all moving in one direction, get them all focused, he would have some room to move himself. 

It had worked, almost. The cost was high, Trevor didn’t make it.  The horde now roamed the central hub, turning the circular thoroughfare into a grim merry-go-round.  After he got them moving the way he wanted, Paul watched them through the massive clear polycarbonate doors.  It took thirty minutes for the entire horde to pass and another ninety minutes to come back around.  During those ninety minutes you wouldn’t even know they were there.  An hour and a half window for Paul and Jordan to get out and get back with whatever they needed across the street.

Paul had watched them for a week, noting the time it took for them to make their round trip, an egg timer of death that meant life for Paul and Jordan.  Twice a week, he would go to the All-Mart and stock up on supplies, and today had been shopping day.  He and Jordan got back with time to spare.  Paul always made sure they got back with time to spare.  Occasionally, Paul would cave to Jordan’s pleas to stay out a little bit longer after shopping.  They would walk the section of the Hub the Dead weren’t on.  Paul kept one eye on Jordan and one on his watch, always getting back with that precious time to spare. 

☣
  

The GTO hit the circle with the bus behind.  Nicole scanned both sides of the street as they drove. 

“There,” Nicole said as she pointed at the massive All-Mart. 

She stuck out her arm and signaled to Walt, who flashed his lights, indicating he got her signal.  Walt and Nicole pulled their vehicles up to the curb in front of the store.  Nicole and Sam got out and met Walt and Billy on the sidewalk. 

“Load up on whatever you think you need, but food is what will keep us from having to stop again for awhile,” Nicole said. 

“You want me to take watch again on the bus, man?” Walt asked. 

“Might be a good idea, Walt.  The place looks like a ghost town, but you never know,” Nicole said. 

“How will I notify you if I see something and you guys are inside,” Walt asked. 

Nicole thought about this for a second. 

“When we get inside, the first thing I’ll look for is some radios.  We should have them for traveling anyhow.  If you see something before then, fire three shots into the air.  We’ll leave the doors open and we should be able to hear that,” Nicole said. 

Walt nodded and then headed back to his bus.  Nicole turned to go into the store then turned back. 

“Anything in particular you want us to look for in there?” Nicole asked. 

Walt thought about it a second.  “Some fresh fruit would be nice, but frozen is good too,” he said. 

Nicole turned and entered the store behind Billy and Sam as they pulled the sliding doors apart. 

Across the street in the stadium, Jordan roller-bladed around the concrete perimeter of the football field.  She gyrated to
Firework
by Katy Perry blaring over the stadium’s sound system.  The song faded out and her own came on. 

As a present on her sixteenth birthday, Connie and Paul hired a local musician who ran a small production company.  For a fee, he would write a song just for you and then make a video of your performance. 
Best Day of the Week
was Jordan’s song.  Jordan and her parents thought it was something cute, a home movie of sorts to view years later and have a laugh.  When Jordan loaded it on YouTube and it went viral, nobody could believe the response.  The video got over two million hits.  Most of the comments were disparaging, but it was like the musician who wrote the song said, at least they were talking about it.  A small record company had even paid them to press some CD singles.  It was released just about the time the Dead started rising, and the short life of Jordan’s song became even shorter.  Jordan loved her song, and much to Paul’s growing agitation, she would play it over and over again. 

As she came around the front, her attention was caught by the open doors of the All-Mart across the street.  She stopped and stared at the store. 

On the fifty yard line, in a chaise lounge, Paul reclined and read a book about growing your own fruits and vegetables.  He knew the supplies at the All-Mart would not hold out forever.  Consequently he took advantage of Woodford’s taste for sports nostalgia.  Planted in rows along the yard lines on the football field were various fruit trees and vegetable plants.  The built in sprinkler system provided the daily waterings, the retractable roof allowed sunshine.  Paul could repair almost any mechanical device, but he never considered himself a green thumb, so he read his book and prayed the plants would not die. 

He was about to turn the page when he noticed his daughter staring out the massive clear doors.  He reached down, retrieved the remote control to the sound system and clicked off the music.  He looked at his watch. 

“Honey, they’re about to pass in the next few minutes.  We don’t want them to notice us,” Paul called. 

Jordan did not move.  “I don’t remember us leaving the doors open when we finished shopping, do you, Dad?” Jordan asked. 

Paul furrowed his brow and rose from his lounge.  It was a bit of a struggle. When he would meet people for the first time, almost invariably they would say that he looked like the actor Kevin James.  Paul enjoyed eating and had not had to give that up to any great degree since taking up residence across from the All-Mart. 

“What are you talking about, honey?  Of course we didn’t leave the doors open,” Paul said as he came alongside Jordan. 

“Well, they’re open now,” she said as she pointed across the street. 

Paul looked and saw the sliding doors sitting open.  His eyes were drawn to the bus and Walt standing up on top of it. 

“Oh no,” he said then looked at his watch.  “They must have just rolled up looking for supplies,” he said.

Paul was agitated.  Jordan was slower to pick up on the ramifications of their arrival. 

“But if they just arrived… they probably don’t know about the zombies… Dad.  What time is it?” she asked, fear playing around the edges of her question. 

Paul leaned up close to the clear doors and tried to look down the street to see if the horde was in sight.  The streets were clear, but they were scheduled to make their circuit any minute.  Paul checked his watch as if looking again would change the time on it. 

“Should we warn them?” Jordan asked. 

Paul did not respond as his eyes darted from the store to down the street and back again. 

“Dad?” Jordan asked again. 

“I don’t know—there’s no time to go over there,” Paul said. 

Jordan became concerned, her face revealing her angst.  “If they get stuck out there—”

Paul cut off his daughter’s words.  “I know!  I know!” he barked at her and instantly felt bad about doing it. 

Not waiting any longer, Jordan started waving her arms over her head.  “Over here!  Look over here!” she screamed at Walt. 

Not knowing what else to do, Paul mimicked his daughter and started jumping up and down and waving his arms as well. 

“Get out of there!  You have to move!” he screamed, his words mixing with his daughter’s. 

On top of the bus, Walt looked up and down the street but not across it.  Paul and Jordan jumped and shouted but none of their cries got to Walt.  The massive doors blocked sound as effectively as they did the Dead.  They continued to try to get Walt’s attention as Nicole came out and approached the bus.  In her hand were two walkie-talkies.  She handed one up to Walt who stooped down to take it. 

Paul and Jordan watched them exchange some words as Walt stood back up and resumed looking up and down the street.  They continued to shout as Nicole turned and went back into the store. 

“They’re not going to make it!  Dad! Those things are going to be here any second!” Jordan cried. 

Paul was beside himself.  He pulled his daughter away from the huge door. 

“Come away from the doors, honey.  There’s nothing we can do,” he said. 

Jordan looked at her father in shock as he pulled her back. 

“Wait!  We can’t just leave them out there, Dad?!” she pleaded. 

Paul’s shoulder’s slumped.  “Don’t look, sweetie.  If those things see us, they may come over here,” Paul said as he led his daughter away from the doors. 

Jordan cried, not taking her eyes from the street.  Paul led Jordan over to the chaise lounge and sat her down.  Kneeling down in front of her, he hugged her and waited for it to be over.  His daughter shook in his arms, her sobs coming in waves.  Paul was in anguish as he held her. 

“Shhhh, it’ll be over soon, baby girl…” Paul said, trying to comfort his daughter. 

He tried and failed to not look over at the doors and the inevitable bloodbath that was about to happen literally on their doorstep.  He turned away and squeezed his eyes shut.  He kicked himself for the selfish thought of how he would get the Dead moving again, after their normal circuit was disrupted by their fresh meal.

Outside, the wind shifted.  Paul caught the scent of something awful wafting through the ventilation, the stadium’s distant early warning system telling him that the merry-go-round of death was making another turn. 

On top of the bus, Walt looked off down the street in front of him and saw nothing.  Turning, his jaw dropped as he stared into the wave of the Dead rolling his way.  His mind left him for several seconds as he tried to understand what he was seeing coming.  A thousand Dead shuffled his way.  Walt brought the walkie to his mouth and keyed the mic. 

“Uh, hey man!  You got to get out of there, like now!”  Walt shouted. 

A second later, Nicole’s voice called back over the walkie. 

“You see something, Walt?” Nicole asked. 

Walt never took his eyes off the advancing horde. 

“More like a thousand somethings!  We’ve got to bug out, man!  Come on!” Walt yelled into the walkie. 

As he did, the vanguard of the horde caught his scent.  They started shuffling towards him, veering off the course they had traveled without interruption for weeks.  Walt whipped his head around as he saw Nicole, Sam, and Billy come running out of the All-Mart.  They froze in their tracks as they saw what Walt had warned them was coming.  Their minds were not prepared. 

Walt jumped down and climbed into his bus, followed by Billy.  Sam and Nicole ran to the GTO.  As they got into their vehicles, the Dead flooded into the streets.  In no time at all, the Dead had blocked both ends of the street.  With the road blocked in either direction, Nicole and Walt tried to push through, but their progress was slow, hindered by the sheer mass of the Dead clamoring around them. 

“This is it, Man!” Walt cried. 

Billy just stared at the horde and gripped his seat. 

In the GTO, Nicole tried to cut a path through the Dead, but was not making ground.  Sam looked around, trying to spot any space in the mob that the GTO could push through and not seeing any.  The Dead pushed and slammed up against the vehicles.  The GTO rocked  and swayed under their onslaught.  Inside, Nicole gripped the wheel and tried to navigate the horde.  Sam kept his head on a swivel looking for any out. He looked to his right, his face fell in amazement. 

“Over there!  Go there!” he shouted at Nicole. 

Nicole looked to where he was pointing and could not believe what she saw. 

“Is that Kevin James?” she asked, seemingly in shock. 

“Just go!” Sam screamed as Nicole cut the wheel hard to the right and floored the gas.  The GTO lurched, tires squealing, as Nicole launched the big car through the slowly rising clear polycarbonate door of Liberty Bell Stadium.  Paul was waving frantically in their direction.  In the bus, Walt saw Nicole take the hard right and looked to where she was going. 

“Alright, Man!” Walt exclaimed as he saw Paul waving at them. 

Walt gunned the bus and followed Nicole into the stadium. 

Outside in the street, twenty yards from where Paul stood, the Dead were slow to react, but react they did.  As the bus headed for the entrance of the stadium, Paul was already lowering the massive door. 

“Come on, Come on!” Paul shouted as the Dead fell in pursuit of the bus.  The bus barely cleared the door as it came down, clipping the extended taillights, shattering them.  Just as the door hit bottom, a thousand dead piled against it, clawing and pounding. 

The vehicles came to a stop. Nicole, Sam, Walt, and Billy piled out.  Walt rushed up to Paul. 

“You saved us, Man!” he said. 

Paul did not hear him.  His face twisted in anger, he shouted at them. 

“Do you know what you’ve done?!  You’ve killed us!!”

Twenty-One

Walt’s smile slid off his face and he stepped back as Paul advanced on him. 

“Those things know we’re in here now and they’re never going to leave!” Paul shouted. 

Jordan approached her father and reached for his hand. 

“Daddy, stop yelling at them, it’s-” 

Paul cut off her words.  “Do you know what it took to get those things moving in one direction, to keep them away from us?!” 

Nicole got in Paul’s face.  “Hey look, man!  We didn’t know you guys were in here!  Sorry for surviving and spoiling your good thing, but we are out there trying to live too!”  Nicole shouted. 

Paul and Nicole locked eyes and stared at each other.  Finally, Paul looked at the rest of Nicole’s group. 

“Well, you just cut our chances of survival down to zero,” Paul said. 

He stormed away.  Jordan apologized with her eyes to Nicole, then turned and followed her father.  Nicole watched him go, then stomped over to the GTO and collapsed in the driver seat.  Sam went over to her and leaned his head in the passenger side.