Containment (11 page)

A moment or two later, the entire group was awake and gathering themselves. To Claire, Art, and Maggie, it appeared as if this was a well-rehearsed activity. Of course the truth was far from it. If nervous tension and fear could be tapped as energy sources, there was enough in the room to light up most of Anchorage. They were well armed but they were all amateurs in these matters. Dr. Caldwell and Malachi were the only ones in the group who had actually received weapons training, so all the guns in the world didn’t give any of them any special edge when it came to using them. Neil grabbed his shotgun and put on the dark blue jacket with the deep pockets filled with shells. He was also carrying a forty-five caliber semi-automatic pistol. Dr. Caldwell was similarly armed, as was Malachi. Jerry toted his hunting rifle and a smaller caliber revolver that he tucked into his belt.

It was decided that Meghan would drive the minivan and Maggie would drive her own car. Meghan was carrying her own sidearm while Maggie declined to carry any firearms herself. The two vehicles were parked on the opposite side of the chalet, away from the approaching undead. They didn’t think there were any of the things on that side of the building, but they all emerged from the back door at the ready. The two vehicles were started and moved slowly around to the front of the chalet with the shooters, Malachi, Dr. Caldwell, Jerry and Neil walking slowly between them.

The children were escorted onto the balcony and told to sit on the folding chairs set next to the burn barrel. Once out there, Danny said to his chaperone, Kim, “They’re getting closer.”

“Jesus kid, that’s creepy. But I think you’re right. I can hear them now too.”

Emma, Claire, and Art, also armed with pistols, were inside the chalet, but downstairs by the front door. When they had first arrived earlier the previous afternoon, they all decided to bar the all glass front doors with a rolling rack of folding chairs and tables. It was heavy, and when locked into place, very difficult to move. They hoped that if the things were to find them and make it up to the chalet, that the heavy rack would help to secure the front doors long enough to allow them to escape.

Art said to the two women, “Maybe we should just make a run for it. What happens if there are too many of them out there? Who the hell put Neil in charge anyway? What makes this guy qualified to lead us?”

Emma, not looking away from the unfolding drama in the parking lot, said, “It’s dark and dangerous outside. If there are only a handful of them, it probably just makes sense to deal with them so that we can move out of here when it’s light enough to see. If there are too many of them out there, Neil will get us outta here. He’s good. He’s kept us all alive this long. Just be patient.”

As she finished her sentence, the first gunshot cracked the quiet with its report.

Out between the two vehicles, Jerry operated the bolt-action slide on the rifle at his shoulder and said, “I got one. Pretty sure I got him through the head. He went down and isn’t getting back up.”

Meghan had the passenger side window down. Neil leaned in. “I think that’s far enough. Now roll up this window and let’s wait for them.”

Meghan, whose hands were quivering, nodded and swallowed hard. She fumbled with the window control a few seconds before figuring out how to raise it. She started to look to her left now to make sure that none of the things were trying to swing up and around them. It was dark, but she was able to see a little further with the help of the van’s high beams, despite being pointed in a different direction. The bright setting of the headlights cast enough of a cone of light so as to illuminate the space to either side of them.

Maggie’s driver side window was already up. She saw Meghan come to a stop and followed her lead.

Neil asked Jerry, “Can you tell how many are out there yet?”

Looking through the scope, Jerry said, “I can see at least five and maybe more, but I think that’s about it. I think we’re lucking out right now. We can take these few.”

Dr. Caldwell asked, “And then what? We know that these gunshots are going to attract attention from more of them. How much time will we have until more of those things show up?”

Jerry fired his rifle again. “Damn! Only got him in the chest.”

Dr. Caldwell said, as if to reassure the other man, “Under different circumstances, that would be a good shot. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Jerry’s rifled kicked again. “That got ‘im. What were you saying Doc?”

“Never mind.”

Jerry said, “They’re moving much slower now. They seem more like Romero’s zombies. Sorry, zekes. Still trying to get used to the new name. Maybe the decomposition theory was right. As they get further into decay, they’ll become less and less mobile. This group is getting closer though. Get ready. I can still see five, so maybe we’ve got close to ten of them out there after all.”

Neil started to chew on his lower lip. He could feel his heart rate begin to climb and his breathing begin to quicken. Dr. Caldwell could sense Neil’s anxiety and said, “Let’s all relax a bit. Keep a sharp eye out and we’ll be okay. We can’t let them get around behind us. If we start getting overwhelmed or hemmed in, we haul ass outta here.”

They could all hear a faint, deep moan, as it became a kind of hungry growl. There was also a dragging shuffle, probably feet coming from out of the darkness. And then the ghouls were upon them. The zekes were just out of reach and fully in view within the glare from the headlights. Meghan screamed involuntarily and hid her face. Neil, distracted, peeked into the van to make sure she was alright. He didn’t see the female fiend emerge from the light.

Dr. Caldwell did, though. He pulled the trigger on his shotgun and half of the woman’s head disappeared. The beast spun around violently and collapsed in front of the van, just out of reach of Neil. The doctor pumped another twelve-gauge shell into the firearm’s chamber and prepared to fire again.

This time Malachi was the shooter. His semi-automatic shotgun didn’t require any action on his part to reload between shots. He fired once, hitting one of the things in the chest, which set it back slightly. He then fired again and removed the beast’s scalp. He pivoted slightly and brought down another with a single shot.

Now brandishing a sidearm, Jerry fired the revolver three times, apparently hitting nothing. He backed away a few paces and stopped. He had never been so afraid in all his life. He couldn’t concentrate and, therefore, couldn’t aim at this close distance. It was different to be shooting at these things through his scope and with enough distance between him and them that he was largely out of harm’s way. Fighting them up close like this was an entirely different experience. He could see them more clearly, even in the dark. He could smell their rank odor and hear their horrible guttural sounds.

Neil fired his shotgun and another one fell, closer still. Jerry said, “I think there’s still one more out there.”

They all paused and held their breaths trying to hear anything at all. Jerry said as he raised the rifle, “Yeah, here he comes.”

And out of the darkness came another one. It was wearing a police officer’s uniform. The ghoul’s left hand was gone at the wrist and his left ear was just barely still attached, having been all but chewed from his head. Malachi backed away and lowered his weapon. He was shaking his head and mumbling unintelligibly to himself.

Dr. Caldwell stepped forward and pumped a lethal round into the beast’s head, bringing it down in an instant. He looked over at Malachi and asked him, “Did you know him?”

Malachi didn’t answer at first. He just stared at the fallen officer. Without looking back at the doctor, Malachi said, “I didn’t know him well, but I...I knew his face more than anything.”

“I’m sorry, Malachi. I don’t think there were any options though. He—”

Walking away with the shotgun propped over his shoulder, Malachi interrupted him, “Yeah, I know. It couldn’t be helped. He was one of them.”

Malachi was more caught up in seeing the police uniform than anything else because he could imagine himself lying there instead of the other man. He wondered how it had happened in the first place. Was the man doing his duty and helping others or was he just trying to get away and got cornered? It had been ingrained in him that the police force was a brotherhood...a fraternity that bonded each to the other. He wondered to himself how many other police officers were still around. Was he the last of the brotherhood, or were there others still fighting and trying to preserve the peace?

And then he remembered, the man’s name was Collins. Sergeant Collins. He’d met him at a couple of public safety functions and recalled liking the man. Between his larger than life size and his booming voice, he was someone that everyone recognized and could find in any crowd. And none of that mattered now. There he was, lying amidst a pile of rotting corpses in an empty parking lot of an abandoned city. He wondered if there was any hope of escaping Anchorage alive.

He tried to stave off the horrible misgivings that were taunting him then. He had gotten used to feeling somewhat normal again. He and the doctor had bonded in the woods while they gathered wood and it felt good to have some connection to someone again. But like a bad connection on a cell phone, he felt the bonds begin to fade into a garbled echo, barely recognizable for what it was. He walked back to the chalet and was surprised to see his father looking out at him from inside. The older Ivanoff was standing inside holding a can of beer. He wasn’t waving to him or showing any real emotion. He just stood there watching and waiting. Malachi lowered his head as he walked and tried to ignore the image, the memory…the ghost. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing at the moment and just hoped that it would go away. There was no comfort in that face from his past. There was only pain and distrust.

Back at the cars, Jerry, Neil and Dr. Caldwell were still standing their ground in case there were still more of them. Dr. Caldwell leaned down and removed the dead police officer’s belt. The man’s sidearm was still in its holster.

Neil said, “I think that’s all of them. Maybe we should get back inside and start getting ready to move out of here. I’m sure those gunshots will bring more of them our way.”

Jerry asked them rhetorically, “Was this really just the first day since we left our safe house?”

Dr. Caldwell, who was tightening the police belt around his waist said, “Yeah. What a first day, huh? I wonder what tomorrow has in store for us?”

The next day found them driving away from Kincaid Park. Maggie and Malachi, driving in Maggie’s beat up Volkswagen, were following Neil and the rest of the group packed tightly in the minivan. The mood in the van, though not joyous, was much lighter than the day before. There was a general sense of possibility amongst the survivors for a change.

“I can’t believe we got them all. And it seemed just so easy,” Jerry commented. “You were right, Neil. They did just come right at us.”

Dr. Caldwell breathed deeply. “This is no time to get complacent,” he said flatly. “There was just a few back there. What happens when we run into a big group of them?”

“Hey, Doc, why you gotta go rainin’ on my parade? Can’t a guy be happy for at least a little bit? I know we’re not outta the woods yet, but it felt good to kick some ass for a change.”

“Yeah, I know. I guess I’m just being a bit of a pessimist is all. Sorry. You’re right. It did feel good to be on the dealing end of things instead of the receiving end.”

Art asked, “How much ammo do you guys have?”

Meghan answered, thinking about all the boxes of bullets and guns taken from her store, “Several thousand dollars worth.”

“What?”

“Enough. At least for a while.”

“And then what?”

Claire said bluntly, with that irritated tone again, “Enough for today and we can worry about tomorrow when it comes.”

Art corrected her, “You mean ‘if’ it comes.”

Meghan interrupted, “Talk about rainin’ on someone’s parade. I think you and Doc need to spend some time apart.”

Art got quiet again and stared out the window at the passing trees, houses, and cars.

“What did you do, Art? Before, I mean,” Neil asked.

“You mean before the end of the world?”

“Yeah.”

“I was a real estate agent.”

Meghan said to that, “Oh. That explains the gloom and doom. You sell anything lately?”

“Well not over the past few weeks,” and he rolled his eyes as he looked over at Meghan.

Not taking the bait but still feeling a little mischievous, she continued, “Not many buyers lately?”

“No, the market is kind of...dead.”

Neil moaned from the front and said, “Now that was bad and I know a bad pun. I kind of made a name for myself at meetings in the office for them.”

Art asked, “So where are we headed?”

Dr. Caldwell asked, “You got a house you need to show or something?”

“Yeah, in sunny Hawaii and as far away from here as I can get. No, I was just curious where the next stop was.”

Neil said, “I think we need to get over the Knik and head north. I think that’s where the army is. At least, that’s the direction they were headed last time we heard any news.”

“And how long ago was that?” Claire asked.