The Hunt Chronicles (Book 2): Revelation (27 page)

Boomer barked just as my fingers touched the back end of the door, near the hinges.  I couldn’t get a good grip, but I was able to slowly push it.  I had stretched as far as I could.  The handcuffs were biting into my skin and I could feel blood trickle down my hand.

The door was over halfway shut, but the leverage I had on pushing it disappeared as the back of the door’s corner was no longer accessible.

“Damn it!” I cursed as I tried to stretch further to no avail. 

Boomer prowled into the hallway, hunched and growling ferociously.  The zombies could be heard shuffling through the lobby and toward me.

“Come on!” I growled, no longer feeling the pain in my wrist as I stretched forward.

Boomer glanced up at me.  A look of understanding pierced me, as if he knew what I was trying to do.

The canine charged forward and grabbed the door with his teeth, pulling it backward.

“Good boy!” I shouted, but then realized that he couldn’t shut it all the way.

The zombies were getting closer and before I could stop him, Boomer slinked through the small opening in the doorway.

“No, Boomer, no!” I screamed.  I saw a flash of fur in the crack and then the door shut. 

“No!” I shouted again, but was only answered by barks from Boomer and the excited groans of the zombies.

I quickly pushed the desk back into the small office and grabbed the .22 pistol.  Outside the small receptionist’s window, I saw a group of six zombies chasing Boomer around the lobby.  He was a lot faster than them, but there were not many places for him to run.

“Boomer!” I called, aiming the pistol at the zombie closest to him.  I fired two shots.  One flew harmlessly out the now open bay window and the other struck it in the neck. 

I fired again and again until the slide on the .22 Ruger locked.

“Damn it!” I cried, dropping the pistol onto the desk.  “Come here you sons of bitches!” I yelled at the zombies.

Two took notice of my calls, and lumbered toward the receptionist window.  The other four were still trying to catch Boomer.  Hands reached through the window and I backed up.  They couldn’t reach me, and unless they became contortionists, they were not going to fit through the window.

Boomer was yelping.  I glanced past the two zombies partially blocking my view and saw that one of the creatures had grabbed Boomer’s tail.  Within a second, the other three fell on him.

“No!” I cried, and pulled helplessly on the handcuffs.  I couldn’t watch and turned away.

Boomer yelped and whined terribly.  I knelt down and covered my ears, not wanting to hear his cries of agony.  It didn’t work, and I heard him shriek, bark, growl… and then nothing.

Opening my eyes, I saw that the two zombies were still reaching in toward me.  I stood and looked past them.  The other four zombies were clambering toward the bay window.  Had Boomer escaped?  Were they chasing him?

“Please, please…” I prayed.  If Boomer had escaped out of the window, he wasn’t out of danger yet.  It was night and he had a hundred thousand zombies to escape from in the city.

A yelp echoed from outside.  It was Boomer.  I couldn’t see what was going on, but the moans from outside were getting louder.  I saw more shadows moving outside the building.  Many were starting to climb through the window while others moved away.

Boomer had attracted a large group that must have heard my pistol.  Others seemed to still be focused on the building where the gunfire had come from.

My face started to go flush.  Anger, true anger born from hell started to boil in my veins.  Boomer was going to die.  I was helpless to save him.  Fish had abandoned me.  My fear of telling people I was immune had brought this all down upon me and my dog.  My best friend…

My eyes felt like they were on fire, blurring the outer edges of my vision. 

I grabbed one of the arms flailing toward me from the two zombies in the reception window.  I yanked and twisted, tearing muscle and sinew as the arm broke free from its owner.  It had no effect on the zombie, however, as it continued to press forward.

I snatched up the three-hole punch from the desk and smashed it on the creature’s face repeatedly.

More zombies filled the lobby and were pressing against the two trying to get at me through the small window.

Zombies were a force of nature.  The mass that was pressing in on the receptionist window started to take their toll on the frame, and it buckled.  The edges came free from the drywall, and it fell inward. 

I had tuned out their moans and groans.  My skin was on fire from hate and adrenalin.  I felt nothing.  I saw nothing, except zombies that I wanted to kill. 

I screamed in rage as I attacked the first zombie trying to climb onto the desk from the now accessible window.  I slammed the three-hole punch down on its skull like a spike.  It punctured the skull and drove deep into its head. 

More tried to come through, and I fought them one handed, grabbing anything I could use.  The stapler, the keyboard, and even a desk drawer became weapons.  Zombies writhed and died until the window opening was so full of dead bodies that no more could squeeze through the small opening.

I didn’t get away unhurt.  I had bites and scratches up and down my arms but adrenalin concealed the pain.

The zombies were only temporarily stopped though.  They were pulling and clawing at the bodies blocking the window, and banging on the door leading into the hallway from the lobby.

Adrenalin still pumping, I frantically looked around the office and saw my flashlight lying on the floor. I grabbed it and used it to find my knife.

I took hold of the knife and shoved it into the small gap between the leg and the desk top.  I pushed as hard as I could, and the blade broke in half.  I didn’t care and shoved the other half into the ever growing gap. 

Finally, the mounting bolts broke free.  I slid the other cuff off the desk leg and backed into the hallway, breathing heavily as the adrenalin started to fade.

The door was starting to give way and half of the zombies stuck in the window had been pushed or pulled out of the way. 

I didn’t know where to go.  Finding a backdoor exit was useless.  No doubt this building was surrounded by zombies, and even if I somehow could escape, where would I go in the dead of night?  The streets had to be packed with the walking dead.

A thought occurred to me.

“Cecil…” I whispered.  Cecil had gone into an X-ray room.  Why?  Because the damn thing would be shielded like a fortress.  It had to have a heavy door, one that not even zombies could easily break into.

I pulled myself back into a standing position.  I was lightheaded. 

The wood on the door leading into the lobby splintered and the first of a dozen zombies started to climb through the receptionist window.

I stumbled down the hallway, looking for the room I saw Cecil come out of.

My flashlight illuminated a sign next to a doorway that said “Radiology”.

I yanked the door open and slammed it shut behind me.  I was right.  The door was heavy, as was the frame it was hinged to.

Even so, I used what little strength I had left to push anything not bolted to the floor in front of the door.  Luckily, the door opened outward, which was just another hurdle for zombies.

I slumped against the wall and slid down until I was sitting on the tile floor. 

I used the flashlight to examine my right arm.  It was mangled.  I had been bit a half a dozen times.  Red blood mixed with black ooze was covering most of my skin. 

I scanned the room with the flashlight, remembering that I had seen something earlier but was too busy to worry about it.

On the ground, near a chair where they had patients sit to get their teeth x-rayed, was a gun.  It was a chrome .45 with an oil filter.  Chad’s pistol.

My chest started to shake, realizing this was where Chad had probably been killed.

I crawled on my hands and knees until I made it to the chair.  I picked it up and checked the magazine.  He hadn’t gotten off one round, poor bastard.

I saw a thin, black object lying on the floor behind the chair and squirmed around to grab it.  I brought it up to the flashlight.  It was Chad’s cell phone, the one he used to record everything he could in the attempt to reconcile his shady past. 

I tried to turn it on, but after the screen lit up for a brief moment, it went blank again.  The battery was dead.

I’ll let the world know, buddy
I silently prayed.  I put the phone in my pocket and pulled myself up into the chair.

I sagged in the chair as weariness started to get the better of me.  The zombies started pounding on the doors in the hallway, searching for their prey.  They knew I was somewhere close.

Slowly, even with the moans and banging coming from the hallway, I began to fade.  One way or another, I knew my nightmare was over.

Chapter 20

Revelation

June 24
th
Evening

My eyes fluttered open as a new noise joined the commotion of the dead.  I was disorientated, and wasn’t sure what it was at first.  The heavy door blocking the X-ray room didn’t help my perception.

I struggled to sit up in the chair and winced as I used my right arm. 

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since I fainted from pain and exhaustion, but the flashlight I had been using was still on.  That told me it hadn’t been more than a couple of hours.  The flashlight used lithium batteries and was supposed to go for twelve hours, according to the box I looted.  It easily had six hours left on it before we came to rescue Cecil.

I snagged the flashlight off the floor and examined my arm.  All of the wounds had stopped bleeding for the most part, and none of the damage seemed permanent, but it was still painful to move.

I tried, unsuccessfully, to shake the fog from my head.  It was pounding, and my throat was as dry as the Sahara Desert.  I slumped back in the chair, trying to focus on the noises outside the room.

I was able to identify the sound of suppressed gunfire.  Then, muffled voices were talking.  I thought I heard my name being called out.

More suppressed gunfire joined in, and then I distinctly heard someone yell “DJ!”

There was whooshing sound, like an old diesel truck’s exhaust.  A faint light illuminated under the door.

I tried to speak, but my dried vocal cords refused to make any noise above a squeak. 

The muffled sound of unsuppressed weapons fire erupted outside the building.  A lot of weapons fire. 

Why are they here
? I thought to myself.  It was night.  They thought I was infected.  Why would they risk their lives to come here?  

Someone opened the door to the X-ray room.  It opened outward, so the stuff blocking it did nothing but fall into the hallway.  I wasn’t counting on zombies using the doorknob.

A light appeared in the doorway.  I couldn’t tell who it was because it blinded me.  I shut my eyes and tried to shield them, but was too weak to lift my hand.

“In here!” a voice said.  It was familiar to me, but I couldn’t place it.

I squinted as more flashlights entered the room.

“Check his eyes,” a gruff voice said.  I think it was Fish.

The light was piercing.  I winced as though it hurt.

“He’s good.  He’s good!” Daniel said excitedly.

“Can you walk?” Fish asked.

I grunted something incoherent. 

“He’s delirious.  We have to carry him,” Daniel stated.

I started to fade again.  Someone picked me up and slung me over their shoulder.

When we made it to the hallway, I felt heat.  I partially opened my eyes and saw that a couple of picture frames in the hallway had been lit on fire. 

Behind me, I saw DJ backpedaling.  I could easily make out his wide frame.  On his back was a large sack that was low and putting strain on the big man.  In his hands was an odd looking flamethrower. 

DJ let out a few spits of fire, and I saw in the flame’s light a gaggle of zombies at the opposite side of the hallway.

We made our way out of the building.  I got a brief glance at Big Red, which had a few figures on top of it.  Two were holding flamethrowers of their own, while others were shooting unsuppressed rifles at a horde of dead surrounding us.

Small fires littered the parking lot, breaking up the mass of zombies. Some of the creatures had caught on fire while others avoided the flames.

All of this was seen through a dense haze as my mind tried to piece together what was going on.  Before I knew it, I was thrown in a vehicle.  Daniel was on top of me, inspecting my wounds.

“Boomer…” I croaked.  “Get Boomer.”

“Don’t worry about him,” Daniel said.  I felt a prick in my left arm, and soon, the inside of the vehicle spun and went dark.

***

I woke up in the infirmary at Camp Holly.  Bright light shone through the window, telling me it was daytime.  Everything was foggy and I blinked, trying to allow the shapes in the room to form.

Turning on my right side, I saw another bed on the other side of the room.  Sleeping peacefully on it was Sergeant Pitman.

I moved my right arm and grimaced.  It was bandaged from my fingertips to just above my elbow.  I rolled to my left and saw that I had an IV attached to my left hand.  Just beyond the insertion point of the IV, my wrist was wrapped heavily in gauze.  I never saw how deep the handcuffs dug into me, but I knew they drew blood.

I coughed, and tried to wet my mouth. 

“You’re awake?” a voice said.  I blinked and saw Rich rise from a small desk.  He had been sorting through medicines and putting them in containers.

I slightly sat up and glanced around the room.  Next to Rich’s desk was a fold out chair holding Fish.  He was slumped against the wall, head back and passed out asleep.

“Water,” I wheezed.

Rich smiled and brought me a small cup.

I quickly downed the water.

“More?” I asked.

Rich nodded and refilled the cup.

“How long was I out?” I asked, taking the cup from him again.

“You have been in and out for the last ten hours,” he answered, topping off the cup again after I downed it.

“What time is it?”

Rich smiled, “It’s around two o’clock.”

My eyes flashed as I remembered my dog.

“Boomer?” I asked.  “Did they find Boomer?”

“Boomer found us, kid,” Fish said, wiping sleep from his eyes and standing from his chair.

“What?” I was confused.

“I’m not sure he’s ready for conversation yet,” Rich noted.

“The hell I’m not.  Where is Boomer?”  I asked, staring crossly at Fish.

Fish frowned and looked at the floor.

Rich looked back and forth between Fish and me.  I think he could sense that we had some issues to resolve.

“Ah, I will go inform the Captain and Doctor Tripp that you are awake,” he said, and then left the small building.

“Boomer?” I asked Fish again, not taking my eyes off him.

Fish took a deep breath.  “He’s okay, kid.  He ran all the way back here last night.  Poor mutt was hurt pretty bad.  Lots of bites and scratches.”

“Where is he?” I asked a little more calmly.

“There isn’t much room in here, so Rich has him in our shack.  Karina is staying by his side and taking care of him.  Don’t worry, kid, Rich patched him up good.”  Fish wheeled Rich’s chair over to me and sat down.

I let out a sigh and fell back into the bed.

“Karina…” I whispered, and then chuckled at the fact that thinking about her led me to free myself from the desk the night before.  “She probably doesn’t know she saved my life last night.”

“Really?  I would think she knew that pretty damn well, kid.  If it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t have come back for you.” 

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

Fish pursed his lips before he spoke.  I could tell he was struggling internally.  He noticed me staring at him and reading his expression.  Quickly, his stone mask returned.

“Leaving you behind wasn’t easy, kid.  I hope you know I had to.”

I nodded, deciding not to get mad.  “I know.” 

I did know he had to.  For him, not shooting me was a miracle. 

“Well, when I got back to camp, I told Campbell about what had happened.  He wasn’t pleased in the least.  Both because I left against his orders to rescue Cecil, and because you got bit in the process.  He blamed me, ya know?”

I didn’t respond.  Campbell had a good point.

“You know how this camp is.  Word spreads quickly.  Everyone could see how upset your girlfriend was,” he smirked. 

“That’s when Karina came to you?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.  See, umm, I didn’t tell them that I let you live.  Everyone assumed I put you down.”

“Guess that’s when you came clean?” I said, trying to form a smile.

“Yeah.  I mean, at first, no one believed her.  Then she told us your story.  How your old roommate bit you, and then how you were bit escaping Ace Hardware.  Then she went on and on about how she bugged you to spill the beans to us.”  Fish cocked an eyebrow, as if asking me why I hadn’t told anyone.

“Can you blame me?” I said, holding up my wrist.  “I mean, at minimum, I thought you guys would think I was lying.  But really, I thought you were either going to kill me or expel me from the camp.”

“Actually, kid, I don’t blame you,” he agreed.

“So, that’s when you got the Calvary together?” I asked.

“It’s a little more complicated than that.  It took some arguing.  I mean, we’re talking about going into the city, at night, in perfect dead weather.  In the end, I told the Captain I was going to leave one way or the other.  I probably would have been by myself if that doctor didn’t throw in her two cents.”  He smiled.

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it, she’s an expert on this damned virus.  The idea of her finding someone that was already immune was like Preacher finding the golden chalice,” he grinned.

“You mean The Holy Grail?” I chuckled.

“Whatever,” he grunted.  “What can I say, I failed Sunday School.”

We both fell silent for a moment, and then Fish looked up, regret evident on his face.

“So… are you going to hold a grudge or what?” he asked.

I tensed.  Would I?  Probably, but the good guy in me said that I shouldn’t.

“We’re good, Fish,” I said after a moment.

“Are you two going to kiss or something?” a baritone voice said from across the room.  Pitman raised himself up on his elbows.  “Cause I can leave the room, you know.”

“Can it, Pitman,” Fish said, standing up from the chair.

I looked Pitman over.  He was sweating profusely, and looked overly tired.  But even with his greyish, pale complexion, there was more life in his eyes than when I first met him.

“How are you feeling?” I asked him.

“Like shit.  But your doctor says I’m already having a good reaction to the medicine.”  Pitman rolled his large frame into a sitting position, swinging his legs to the floor.

“Well, you look like shit,” Fish grunted.  “I’d lie back down before Rich—”

“Before I what?” Rich asked, entering the infirmary.

Behind him, Campbell, Doctor Tripp, and Major Dobson followed, crowding the small room.

“Before you give an annoying hour long lecture,” Fish finished.

“He’s right,” Rich said as he walked over to Pitman and gently pushed him back down on his bed.  “Trust me.  It is not a fun listen.”

“I’m hungry,” Pitman complained.

“Then I will have someone bring you some soup,” Rich countered.  “You need a couple more days in bed before—”

“We don’t have a couple days, Rich,” Dobson interrupted.

“It’s not up for debate,” Rich returned.

“We’re going to take it one day at a time,” Campbell interjected.  “Anyways, Christian, how are you?”  Campbell asked, squeezing past the crowd to get to my bedside.

“Okay.” I said, trying to sit back up.  A sharp look from Rich convinced me to lie back down.

Campbell gestured behind him.  “Are you well enough to talk to Doctor Tripp?”

I nodded.

“Okay, let’s leave these two to talk,” Campbell ordered.

Rich raised a hand.  “Twenty minutes, Doctor.   That’s it.”

“I’ll be back to check up on you, kid,” Fish said as he patted my leg.  Everyone else except Doctor Tripp and Pitman left the infirmary. 

I motioned to the chair and she took a seat.

“So, it seems what that young lady said is true,” she said, inspecting my bandaged arm.

I winced as she touched a sensitive spot.  “Yeah.  I was going to try and talk to you, but the opportunity never really presented itself.”

“This is quite… quite a revelation.  But, we don’t have much time to talk.  Rich seems pretty strict.”  She let go of my arm and leaned back in her chair.

I smiled.  “Yeah, but he’s great.”

Doctor Tripp nodded in agreement.  “Yes, he knows his business.  You guys are lucky to have him.”  She paused for a moment, as if contemplating something.  “Can you tell me, in your own words, how you discovered your immunity?  And possibly anything that could have caused it?  Do not think details are trivial.  The more information we have the better our chances are of developing a vaccine.”

Over the next ten minutes I relayed my story.  From how I was sick in the beginning, but started to feel better the day before The Awakening.  I recounted my fight with Dave as a zombie and how I treated myself.  I also told her how I felt sick that night, but seemed to make a full recovery from the infection the next morning.