Authors: Mark Campbell
The lanky man, clutching a makeshift club covered in gore,
breathed frantically and glanced up towards Andrew. He started shouting
at the others nearby, getting their attention.
The roof creaked and groaned as the fire gutted the building.
Flames ate through large sections of the roof and flared up into the sky,
thirsty for oxygen. Portions of the roof sunk and collapsed into the
inferno, creating an obstacle course of black smoke and fiery pits.
The alley was littered with arrows. Badly mangled corpses with
most of their appendages gnawed off lay strew across the blood soaked
ground. Their violated corpses looked up at Andrew and squirmed
hungrily, snapping their teeth, growling. They flailed their bloody numbs
up at him as they tried ineffectively to stand. The tents along the alley lay
tattered and disheveled. A shambling infected elderly man roamed near
the end of the alleyway, sniffing the air.
“The fuck is that?!” one of the rioters said, pointing his gun at the
roof. He was a scraggly white man wearing a burlap parka. “It’s a
goddamn Eye!”
The second rioter screamed as he repeatedly struck the infected
old man; he didn’t pay his companion any mind, considering he had
problems of his own.
“What are you going to do?” Jerri asked, cradling Jacob.
“Something stupid,” Andrew said.
Andrew struck the man in the center of his chest, making the
shrouded man expel the air from his lungs. He struggled to regain his
breath.
The black rioter yelled and, using all of his strength, shoved the
old man who was attacking him backwards. He quickly raised his baton
and swung it at Andrew.
The black man started to step forward to strike Andrew–
Andrew swung the baton across the man’s face.
The infected cadaver descended on the fallen man and started to
claw into the man’s abdomen. The man screamed and quickly went silent
as his body went into shock. The cadaver pulled out handfuls of stringy
innards and shoveled them into his mouth, gorging himself.
Andrew scooted across the ground and pressed himself against
the dorm, letting out a sigh of relief, heart thumping madly. He closed his
eyes and rubbed his face with his hand, trying to compose himself.
The old man turned away from his meal and focused his attention
towards Andrew, snarling, bloody spittle dribbling out the corners of his
mouth.
“Ah, fuck,” Andrew muttered, letting out a bated breath.
A knife landed in the sand next to Andrew, startling him.
It was Jerri’s blade.
The old man lunged towards Andrew, ready to attack.
The old man pushed himself deeper onto the blade, oblivious to
the pain, in his attempt to get closer to Andrew. When the blade finally
slid deep enough to pierce the man’s frontal lobe, his body froze and he
let out his last raspy moan.
Andrew quickly stood up, flung the blood off of the knife, and
ran towards the fallen rioters. He drove the blade into the back of both
men’s necks, angling it up towards the brain stem.
The building was burning out of the control and the roof was
almost fully ablaze. The flames lapped high into the sky and polluted the
air with dense smoke.
“Maybe, but that isn’t the goddamn point right now!” Andrew
shouted back. “Either you get down here or you’ll burn! Jump! I’ll catch
you!”
“You better,” she snipped. She shushed Jacob and pressed him
tightly against her chest and let herself fall backwards towards the sheet,
screaming.
“No I fell off a goddamn building! Of course I’m not okay!” she
snapped. She looked at Jacob and examined him carefully. He looked
positively gleeful. “Jacob’s fine, but he thinks you’re an asshole, too.”
“I see you still have your grace and well-cultured tongue,” he said,
scanning down the alleyway. He helped her back onto her feet and
brushed the sand and ash off of her.
“Fuck you,” she snapped. “And thanks.”
“We’ll have to lose these fucking idiots before we do anything,
though,” Andrew said, giving an aggravated sigh. He never wanted a
cigarette so bad in his life. He handed the knife back to Jerri.
The building they were hiding behind had wooden carts stacked
with emptied body bags and ropes next to a loading bay. The loading bay
led up to a large cargo sally port that led into the building. A sign on the
building read FOOD SERVICES ANNEX.
“We’re at the back of the mess hall,” Andrew said, hurrying
towards the sally port. He looked up at the sally port wires. As expected,
they had been sliced; the cooks didn’t like the hassle of the sally port
system. “The cold storage is right behind the sally port and past that is the
kitchen and after the kitchen there’s the dining hall itself. It’s a goddamn
maze inside. We can lose our tail inside and then snake our way out
towards medical.”
“Is it safe inside?” Jerri asked.
Andrew shrugged.
“Safe is a relative term at the moment,” he said. Reanimated
cadavers started to shamble out from the opposite side of the building,
moaning, stumbling towards their prey. “Come on.”
Andrew harshly shoved Jerri into the safe confines of the
breached sally port. He drew his depleted pistol and pointed at the rioters,
swiping the barrel across them slowly from side-to-side.
“Easy, chief,” the haggard man holding the pistol said, pointing it
at Andrew’s chest. The man wore a trucker’s cap and was chewing on a
toothpick. “Just drop your weapon and give up.”
Andrew laughed.
The man in the trucker’s hat became infuriated.
“What’s so funny, boy?” the man said.
“What’s funny is that you fucking idiots brought clubs and one
nearly depleted pistol to a gunfight,” Andrew said with a smirk. “It was
obvious from the alley that you can’t hit the broadside of a barn.”
“Can’t you see, boy?!” the trucker said, spitting the sliver of wood
out of his mouth. “I have a gun, too, and now we’re at close range. You’re
done.”
“You’re one person and untrained, idiot,” Andrew responded.
“The time it'll take you to pull that trigger once I'll have dropped you and
your friends.”
“Provided you hit me, yes,” Andrew said, keeping his empty gun
raised. “But given your latest performance in the alleyway, I’m not too
concerned. The point is you’ll be as dead as I’ll be. How much satisfaction
will you feel about shooting me when your brains are scattered across the
Arizonian sand?”
The civilians slowly started to lower their weapons to the ground,
looking at each other with confusion and hesitation. One of the men
raised his hands in the air.
“Wait a second,” the trucker said, narrowing his gaze at Andrew.
He kept his pistol raised. “How come you wasn’t shootin’ at us when we
was chasing you?”
“I’m just sayin is all,” the trucker continued. “When I was busy
firing and whatnot, you could’ve turned around and taken us down no
problem, right?”
“Naw,” the trucker said, “I don’t reckon you can, son. I don’t
even remember you drawing that steel when we were chasing you… don’t
you think that would have been the
first
thing you would’ve grabbed if you
were being chased?”
The others started to raise their weapons.
“Last warning!” Andrew shouted.
“I never was much of betting man, son. Hell, I didn’t even play
the Powerball. But I’d bet you all the money in the world that the steel
you’re holding is,” the trucker took a step, “bone,” another step,
“fucking,” and another, “dry.”
A
ndrew rolled the sally port door shut behind him. A red lever
was housed in a glass case next to the door handle. He shattered the glass
with his elbow and pulled the lever back, grunting.
Andrew heard their footsteps as they ran away, followed closely
by the growls of the infected. Something slapped its open palm against the
outside of the door, scratching at it.