The Demented Z (Book 3): Contagion (18 page)

“Whoa.” Tom said
while trying to brace himself. He used
one forearm to prop up Hank’s boot, arresting his downward slide.

“Thanks boss.” Hank
grumbled, working to regain his footing.  
“I got it…I got it.” He said
while starting back up.

Eli was working desperately to keep the grate in place as
the demented scratched at it and shook the entire tube.
  One of the infected bent down, his hideous
face pressed up to the grate. His lips
curled back in a vicious growl. Others
behind him pressed harder, shoving his teeth into the metal bars.

Tom looked back down.  
“Come on man. Leave the grate.”

Eli looked up; making sure Tom was far enough above that he
could climb away from any reaching arms that would surely enter behind
him. Seeing that Tom was quite a ways
up, he clicked on his gun’s flashlight, left it shouldered, and began quickly
spider climbing upward.

Tom pictured Abby running into a dead end at the top.
  All of them stuck like rats in a maze with a
herd of cats licking their chops just below.  
What are we going to do if there is
nowhere to go?
His stomach was in
knots.
Nothing we can do now.

The metal grate clattered to the cement.
  The tube was immediately filled with hungry
growls. Several demented fit inside the
small opening, reaching for Eli’s escaping form.
  The kid was quick and well above their
grasping hand.   They issued angry shrieks
of frustration.

Abby’s voice shouted from above, “Flattens out up
here.” Her light shined back down on
Hank. “You all right?”

Hank continued to struggle upwards.
  “Wear’n
down.”

“You can make it, not much further.”
  She shouted encouragingly.

It didn’t take long and all four of them were piled in a
horizontal tunnel that extended into darkness.  
Hank was grimacing and breathing hard.  
Eli and Abby barely looked winded.

“Wait here.” Eli said
while squeezing past everyone. “I’m
going to scout this tunnel out.”

After he moved off, Tom turned to the others.
  “Everyone okay?”

Abby nodded her head.  
“Shoulder is throbbing, but I’ll be fine.”

Tom looked over at Hank sitting quietly to the side.
  “What about you old man?”

Hank shook his head.  
“I wanted to say something earlier.”  
He closed his eyes for a moment.  
“I don’t feel well.”

“Leg hurting?”
  Abby asked.

“No…well yeah, but something more.
  At the military base I got splattered with
blood. I wasn’t sure if it was anything,
but I’m feeling…feeling sick.”

Abby took a subconscious shuffle backwards.

Tom had a concerned look on his face.
  “Infected…you think you’re infected?”

“Yeah, I feel chilled…nauseous.
  Started when we first got
to this site.”

Tom reached out and placed the back of his hand on the top
of Hank’s forehead. He removed it and
crossed his arms in front of him.

“Well?” Hank said.

Tom shook his head.  
“We have to figure something out.”

“Maybe he’s just sick.”  
Abby said.

“We have…what…twenty four hours or so?”
  Tom said.

“And what, we’re just going to hang with him until he
turns?” She looked at Hank.
  “Sorry—“

“You can leave me right now.”
  He looked down.
  “Believe me, I know what you mean.”

Tom rested a hand on Hank’s shoulder.
  “We’re not leaving…I’m not leaving you.
  We are so close.
  Let’s get out of here, get to this Echo One,
and see what we can learn. If we move
quick maybe there is a solution.”

Eli’s light bounced as he made his way back toward the
group. Everyone turned at his approach.
  He had a slight grin as he looked over the
group. Seeing their somber faces, his
look quickly went somber. “What?”

Tom quickly explained the situation and what their plan
was. Eli simply nodded, glancing back
and forth between Tom and Hank as the details came out.
  Once Tom finished and Eli said nothing in
disagreement, he said, “What about you…find anything?”

“I actually have good news.”  
He looked back down the tunnel.
“Extends straight ahead for more than a hundred yards with
occasional drops that must be ventilation for other rooms.
  At the far end it shoots straight up.”

Everyone sat still, waiting for the good news.

“There are several large security baffles, but they are all
open…light, there was light. I clicked
off my flashlight and I could see light from above.”

Tom nodded his head.  
“That’s great.” He gave a quick
glance to Hank. “We don’t have time
anymore so let’s get moving.”

“Seattle, here we come.”  
Hank grumbled.

“Looks like maybe fifteen blocks, almost straight
ahead.” Abby said while looking over a
map laid out across the dash.

Tom sat at the giant deuce and half’s steering wheel.
  He had been driving non-stop for several
hours now and his knuckles ached from the death grip he had on the giant
wheel. They had pounded their way
through multiple roadblocks, nudged vehicles out of their way, and flat out ran
over dozens of infected. The city
streets were getting narrower as they plunged deeper into its interior.

A quick glance in the side mirror reminded Tom of the hordes
of infected that trailed in their wake.  
The rumbling vehicle was like the sound of a dinner train.
  He looked ahead and said, “We’re going to
have to turn off this road.”

Just ahead of them sat a tipped over ladder truck and
several delivery vans wedged into one another.  
Fire had gutted most of the vehicles.  
Their massive metal hulks would be too much for the deuce and a half to
plow through.

Abby looked over the map.  
“Yeah, go left, we can circle around.”

“Hang on back there.”  
Tom shouted through the narrow opening that lead to the covered rear
bed.

Eli and Hank had agreed to ride in the back, both to allow
more room for Abby to track with the map and they could spend time gearing
up. The back was loaded with supplies,
allowing them to prepare backpacks and restock magazines.
  Eli banged twice on the shared wall,
signaling they had heard and were good.

Tom swung wide, taking the corner at a fairly good clip, not
wanting to slow down too much. The
engine grumbled as he kept on the accelerator throughout the turn.
  Directly in front of them towered a pile of
wrecked cars.

“Hang on!” Tom
shouted.

There wasn’t time to hit the
brakes, so instead he stomped on the pedal, hoping to bust through.
  The large engine roared.
  There was a thunderous
boom
as the massive metal bumper slammed into a small pickup truck
that lay on its side. The sharp
screech
of metal on metal filled the cab.
  The impact sent the small truck sliding hard
to the left. The deuce and half jolted
to the right, hitting the curb hard with the front tire.
  The entire truck rocked wildly.

“I got it, I got it.”
  Tom said while pulling hard on the wheel,
working to get the truck back on the road.  
The tire dropped off the curb, sending the truck swinging back to the
left.

Directly in front of them lay a
mangled motorcycle flopped on its side.  
The cab swayed from the drop.   Their
front left tire hit the motorcycle. The
momentum tipped the truck hard. It felt
like slow motion. The entire truck hung
at an awkward angle. Tom tried to
feather it back with the steering wheel, but it was too late.
  With an angry
boom
and vicious
screech
the deuce and half slammed onto its side and skidded across the asphalt.
  The side window next to Abby exploded inward,
sending shards of glass clattering inside the cab.
  Hot sparks shot off the pavement.
  After what seemed like minutes the truck
rammed into a wrecked car. Eerie silence
filled the cab.

Tom grumbled as he tried to climb
off of Abby. “You okay?”
  He grunted between breaths.

Abby stirred beneath him, grabbing
her forehead. “Yeah…I think so.”

The
pop
of gunfire erupted from behind them.
  There were voices, but Tom couldn’t make out
what they were saying. He looked out the
front window, but his view was blocked by the car.

There was a loud
bang
on the back of the cab.
  “You guys okay in there?”
  Hank asked.  
“We’ve got infected coming. There
are—“ The rest
of his sentence was drowned out by gunfire.

Tom knew they needed to get out
before they were surrounded. The crash
would be heard for blocks. Using the
steering wheel to help balance himself, he moved into a half standing
position. He pulled his sidearm and
pointed it at the front window. “Cover
your ears.” He said.
  The shots were deafening in the enclosed space.
  Several holes punched through the glass with
a spider web of cracks extending in all directions.

Abby still lay in a heap at the
bottom of the cab. “Hold up a sec.”
  She said while trying to get to a standing
position.

Tom reached down and helped her
gain her footing. With several quick
boot kicks the front window broke out in large pieces.

The sound of gunfire and shouting
continued from the rear of the truck.  
Both the voices and rate of fire were controlled and steady; good signs
given the circumstances. Hank’s voice echoed
forward, “We gotta move!”

“Covering.”
  Eli shouted.  
Three rapid shots sounded and then he yelled, “Out…loading.”

“I’m jammed.”
  Hank shouted back.

Tom rushed out through the window and
got his first peek at what they had gotten themselves into.
  Beyond the car that had stopped their slide
were several demented rushing their way.  
All of them wore torn and soiled clothes that barely clung to their
emaciated bodies. Despite the apparent
lack of nutrition they sprinted with all the speed of trained athletes.
  It would only be a matter of thirty seconds
before they were here. Tom raised his
pistol and fired several rapid shots at the closest infected.

Without turning to check on Abby,
he raced around the truck. Hank was
kneeling on the ground just in front of him.  
Less than a half block away, a massive horde of
infected sprinting their way. They were
the group that had been stirred from boredom as the deuce and a half blew
past. A half-naked man leading the pack
fell to the pavement as a shot from Eli ripped through one of his legs.
  The kid was back in action and firing rapidly
at the group.

“Half dozen in
front.” Tom shouted as he raced
in behind Eli.

Hank yelled back, “Covering front.”

Tom was relieved to hear Hank’s gun
back in the fight. Reaching the rear of
the truck, he was glad that the bulk of the items stored in the back were
either strapped in or kept in storage containers.
  He only needed two things and they were easy
to find. Holstering his pistol, he
reached down and scooped up both his and Abby’s rifles.
  He desperately wanted to grab one or two
backpacks, but knew it would be a mistake.

“I’ll cover…get the others and
go.” Eli shouted.

Tom raced behind Eli and made for
the front of the truck. “Move kid.”

Abby was running his way.
  They nearly slammed into each other at the
corner of the truck. Tom quickly handed
her a rifle and continued on. At the
front of the truck Hank was down on one knee firing at the oncoming
infected. His shots were slow and
measured, each round finding its target.  
Tom ran up beside him and began firing as well.
  His first shots were erratic; panic and
adrenaline taking over.

“I got this.”
  Hank said between shots.

Eli came running up behind
them. “Go!”
  He shouted.

Tom glanced back to see demented
just steps from the rear of the truck.  
He slapped Hank on the shoulder.  
“Go…Now!”

Eli raced past and Tom followed
directly behind him. Abby and Hank were
just steps back. Eli had his rifle
raised to his shoulder and began firing shots.  
Hot fire spit from the muzzle brake with each round.
  His shots were amazingly true even with the
bounce of movement. One after another
the demented fell to his withering fire.

Hank was falling behind.
  Whether it was the sickness or age he was
having a difficult time keeping pace.  
Tom slowed a bit, allowing him to catch up.
 

“I’m okay.”
  Hank wheezed between labored breaths.

“Are not.”
  Tom said while glancing back.
  He was terrified to see how close several
demented were. “Covering.”
  He shouted to Abby and Eli just ahead.
  Skidding to a stop, he turned and pulled his
rifle up. With rapid trigger pulls he
dropped several of the nearest demented.  
They were so close he couldn’t miss; the bodies toppling to the pavement
at his feet. As fast as he shot them,
two more took their place. Deciding he
had bought Hank enough time, he fired off a couple last shots, stood, and raced
after the others.

A half block ahead, Hank trailed Abby
and Eli by a dozen paces. Beyond them
were countless infected rushing from between buildings.
  Both Eli and Abby slowed to a stop and began
firing into the swarming bodies, but there were far too many.

“This way.”
  Hank shouted while pointing and turning
toward a narrow side street.

Abby and Eli lowered their rifles
and raced back toward Hank. Eli looked
toward Tom just before entering the alley.  
Tom gave a quick “keep going” motion with his hand.
  They disappeared from view as he neared the
entrance. Before following them, he
fired off several rapid shots, hoping to at least slow the closest of
them. Without looking to see if any
rounds made contact, he sprinted after the others.

The alley was surprisingly narrow,
barely wide enough to fit a single car.  
Garbage littered the ground. Tom
saw the others just ahead and he raced after them with everything he had, the
angry slap of feet spurring him on. It
felt like the entire city was coming down on them.

If any of them had a view from
above the surrounding buildings they would have been terrified.
  Side streets all around had movement,
demented sprinting erratically dotted with slow moving undead.
  Buildings and narrow streets kept them hidden
from view as they had drove in, but now they were drawn to the chaos, eager to
feast on flesh. From high in the sky it
looked like a stirred up ant hill, the chaos trickling outward from a central
point. The noise of one spread to others
and continued to jump from street to street.

“Left, go left.”
  Abby shouted.

Tom was just catching up to Hank as
they all made a sharp left, cutting hard down a path sandwiched between a pair
of three story brick buildings. The
width between buildings was barely wider than a person, forcing them into
single file.

A sense of claustrophobia nearly
overwhelmed Tom. He was not one to
normally be bothered by tight spaces, but being confined and unable to escape
weighed heavily on his chest. He could
picture demented ripping at each other to get into the passageway behind
them. Eli added to the panic by slowing
ahead of them, causing everyone to group tightly together.

His rifle
thundered
. Tom was unable to
see what he was firing at.   He didn’t
have to see them to know that infected were pouring in from both in front and
behind them. They kept moving forward
even as Eli continued to fire. It was
driving Tom crazy that he couldn’t see what was going on and even worse, he
couldn’t lend any kind of assistance.

After moving forward another
fifteen yards, Eli came to a sudden stop.  
His rifle continued to fire.
“Too many.” Tom could
hear him shout.

“Get down.”
  Abby shouted.  
After a brief hesitation her rifle joined the fray.

Tom spun around with his rifle out
and ready. His worst fears were realized
when he saw the massive line of demented that followed them into the
passageway. The nearest one was a giant
man. His massive chest and biceps
stretched his black t-shirt to the point that speckles of flesh were visible
through the thin threads. His face was
splattered with dark blood, the final remnants of long gone victims.

“Fall back.”
  Eli shouted.

It took several shots for Tom to
drop Black T-shirt and no sooner than he hit the ground he was replaced by a teenage
boy in long boarder shorts.
“Pinned in…dozens.”  
Tom shouted between shots.

Abby kicked at a wooden door that
sat back inside one of the brick walls.  
After a couple kicks she yelled, “This way…get in.”

Nobody argued, all of them rushing
through the dark opening, throwing caution to the wind.
  The current passageway was surely a death
trap…anything had to be better.

Flashlights clicked on
simultaneously, illuminating a small room in flickering swathes of light.
  A table sat in the center of a room lined
with counter tops and cupboards. A white
microwave and small refrigerator marked it as a break room.
  They were in an older, industrial part of the
city and many of the buildings were likely factories and warehouses.

Tom slammed the door closed behind
them, but the entire locking mechanism was destroyed by Abby’s dramatic
entrance. He ripped the small fridge off
the counter, letting it topple to the floor at the base of the door.
 
That’ll
have to do.

Eli headed for a closed door near
the corner of the room. The white paint
was peeled and cracked from age. He gave
a hard tug on the door handle, working to break the friction caused by a
crooked door that rubbed in the jam. It
finally popped open with a
screech
.
  Before the door was all the way open an
infected spilled out reaching for Eli.  
Caught off guard, Eli’s reaction was too slow; unable to bring his rifle
to bear the woman grabbed his shoulders and lunged at his neck.
  Eli had a forearm between himself and the
woman. He pushed forward, desperately
trying to hold her off. The kid’s small
frame was unable to hold her back.

Behind Tom the door banged as
demented pounded into it. The
refrigerator rapidly began to slide across the ragged linoleum floor.
  He blindly began firing into the center of
the door. The rifle punched vicious holes
through the door.

Abby jammed the end of her rifle
barrel into the woman’s temple and pulled the trigger.
  There was a deafening
boom
as blood and gore exploded from the woman’s head, splattering
the cupboards. The woman’s grasp
remained on Eli’s clothing, pulling him down as she crashed to the floor.