Ghosts: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse (33 page)

The
that
that Cade had alluded to was a barricade
made from hardwood desks, rolling ergonomic chairs, computers, printers,
monitors, cheap fiberboard drawers and the skeletal dressers they belonged in.

There were comforters and shower curtains and beach towels
draped over the jumble making seeing anything on the other side difficult. All
in all it looked as if the well-thought-out barrier had been constructed over
time. And the fact that (so far) all of the Zs the team had encountered had
been on this side of Mount OfficeMax, whoever built the thing deserved to live.
Or at the very least—if they hadn’t benefitted from the engineering
masterpiece—a posthumous medal was in order.

Accentuated by the gun smoke haze, pinpricks of light shone
through the barrier here and there. The air smelled of death and gunpowder and
the sour pong of fear-laced sweat.

“Let’s yank the thing down,” Griffin said, bouncing subtly
from foot to foot.

“Everything is a nail to you guys,” Lopez said. He pulled
aside a shower curtain with a floral pattern and black mold growing on the
lower six inches. Peered beyond the wheeled base of a high-backed fabric chair.
After a second’s scrutiny he let the vinyl curtain fall back into place, turned
and said, “Let’s hammer the dead through this thing first.
Then
you can
demo it. What say you, Griff?”

With a wide grin parting his face, Griffin said, “Copy
that.”

Cade looked behind them only to see the tabby lounging on
the paisley carpet and grooming itself. “I have a hunch,” he said. “I’m going
to check the fire escape. Give me a minute before you start tearing that thing
down.”

Sipping from his hydration pack, Cross said, “Please share.”

Cade held up one finger and said, “One minute.” He hustled
down the hall past the wildly contorted leaking bodies the way they had come
and stopped at the far end near where they’d exited the stairway from the
garage. Pressed his ear to the fire escape door and heard only the soft murmur
of the dead he knew were out there somewhere. Conditioned to expect the
attention-getting wail of an alarm, he threw the deadbolt and slowly cracked
the steel door open a few inches. When no alarm blared he pushed ahead, leaned
out, and looked down.

The cursory glance told him all he needed to know. Unlike
the building’s internal stairs, the escape stairs didn’t have the benefit of a
long run. Therefore the entire run was ridiculously steep and switched back
multiple times. About sixty degrees steep, he guessed. Nothing easy to navigate
for a group of guys wearing body armor and carrying weapons and gear all over
their bodies. And a monumental task to negotiate while lugging a hundred pounds
of dead weight in a makeshift litter no matter the garb.

On the street below, through the gently swaying palm fronds,
he could see twenty or thirty flesh-eaters. Working the scenario through his
head he decided that even if they took Nadia down in a litter their combat
boots beating the steel rungs would be enough to get them noticed and draw a
bigger crowd before they reached the building’s middle floors. And if they
somehow successfully fought their way through the crowd at the bottom there was
still the matter of getting the girl to the extraction point with hungry Zs in
hot pursuit.
It was going to have to be the front entry or the garage
,
he thought to himself.

So he closed and locked the door and returned to the
barricade. When he arrived he quickly voiced the thought he had just had to the
assembled team and let it be known that he was leaning towards going out the
way they had come in—but with a little added
wrinkle
.

Lopez nodded and the team began tearing down the sheets and
towels; in no time walkers had emerged out of, Cade guessed, apartment doors
left open beyond the barricade and were hissing and moaning as they approached.

Cade tore down a Hello Kitty bedspread and saw, on the
right, the main source of natural light spilling in, the two empty glass
elevator bays he’d noticed from the air. And through the staggered panes of
glass he noticed the building’s west side angling away slightly to the right.
Closer in he saw a bank of mirrored windows he pegged as belonging to Apartment
610—Nadia’s place. They were all closed, and due to the angle of deflection he
couldn’t make out any movement behind them.

Sticking his M4 through the newly created opening, Lopez
said, “Going hot. Engaging.”

There was the sound of brass tinkling off the door and wall
to Cade’s right and the soft report of the suppressed gunfire echoing off the
drop-down ceiling tiles and walls all around the team.

One by one the creatures dropped like marionettes, their
strings snipped.

A few long seconds ticked by with Lopez sighting down his
weapon and waiting. During those seconds, as eddies of gun smoke danced through
the light spill from the elevator windows, the only sound in the hallway was of
the men breathing and the rustle of Griffin’s uniform as he paced along the
barrier.

Changing out the partial magazine, Lopez looked to the SEALs
and said, “Hammer time.”

On the lookout down the hall for additional flesh-eaters,
Cade and Lopez stood as far left as possible, while, with a good deal of
huffing and puffing and smashing of furniture, Griffin and Cross created a
sizable opening in the barrier near the elevator doors on their right.

Two minutes after Lopez decimated the demonios the team
padded through the breach and, while Griff and Cross moved the bloodied corpses
from their path, Cade and Lopez conducted a quick sweep of the rest of the east
wing hallway, closing any doors that were open.

Once the team reconvened in front of 610, Lopez banged a
fist on the door and then pressed his ear to the cool metal skin below the
brass numbers and listened hard. A few seconds went by and then he stood up
straight, shaking his head and mouthing, “Nothing.”

Cade moved forward, took a knee and, using the pick gun,
defeated the lock in a matter of seconds.

Just like in the stairwell the team stacked up hand on
shoulder: Cade, Lopez, Cross, and Griffin.

The brushed nickel knob made a clicking noise when Cade
turned it. He paused and listened again. Still nothing moved inside. So,
feeling Lopez’s hand resting on his right shoulder, he pushed the door in and
stalked over the threshold, taking in everything through the holographic sight
mounted atop the M4. Details registered in his mind like scenes cycling through
a View Master. A kitchenette full of miniature appliances on the right: Fridge,
stove, and dishwasher. A table awash in hardened candle wax and two chairs up
against the window. Next to it a water cooler and an upturned plastic bottle
attached with not so much as a drop of condensation inside it. On the floor, on
its side, was another five-gallon empty, and strewn about were dozens of single
serving water bottles, also empty.

Flat light splashed the walls gold as Cade waded through the
mess on the floor and curled left. Instantly he saw the living room was barren,
its contents no doubt added to the zombie barrier in the hall. He called out,
“Clear,” and proceeded towards an open door at the far left corner of the room.

Three paces across the carpeted floor and he was at the
door, crouching and staring into the gloom. “Nadia,” he called.

Nothing.

As his eyes adjusted, he saw there was a twin-size mattress
on the floor. On the mattress was a blanket and under the blanket was a small
inert form.

“Nadia.”

Still nothing.

Cade looked at the men assembled at his six and saw an
eagerness to help in Griffin’s eyes. Cross was covering the door and staring at
the tabby cat staring at him. Lopez was hailing the waiting Ghost Hawk,
obviously anxious to offer up a situation report.

A second went by and Lopez said, “Wait one,” and looked a
question at Cade.

“I’ve got this,” Cade said. He flicked his light on and
entered the tiny room. The air was still and smelled of feces and urine.
Straight ahead was a second door likely leading to a bathroom and inoperable
toilet, which he gathered to be the source of the stench. Since the form didn’t
react to his presence he spent a half-beat checking the next room. He cut the
corner with the business end of his M4 and craned around the door frame looking
right. He saw the source of the stench: dark brown water in the toilet bowl.
The porcelain tank lid was on the floor and the tank was empty, the flapper in
the up position. Beyond it was a tiny wall-mounted sink, also dry.

There were towels strewn about the floor and then he saw the
standup shower at the back of the room, minus its curtain and also empty, save
for what looked like half a dozen different shampoo bottles. Once again he
announced, “Clear,” then ducked back into the bedroom and crept to the inert
form on the low bed and prodded it gently with the carbine’s suppressor.
Instantly there was a faint guttural moan. He called, “Nadia?” then bent over
the waif-like form and peeled the thin sheet away.

What he saw stirred up a plethora of stuffed emotion. There
on the bed was a woman no bigger than Brook, clad in tank top and shorts and
staring up at the ceiling. In profile the woman’s button nose was unmistakably
Nash. And though it was matted and greasy, the mane of blonde hair resembled
Nadia’s from the photo. However, the eyes staring up at him did not. They were
dull and fixed on the ceiling and for a beat he thought she was infected. Until
she said, “Mom.” It was barely above a whisper but unmistakable.

“It’s Nadia. She’s still alive,” Cade blurted.

Suddenly Lopez was chattering into the comms, filling Ari in
and setting up their next course of action.

Then, as if a switch had been flicked, Griffin was in
full-on corpsman mode and Cade found himself swept to the wayside. In seconds
the SEAL had his rucksack off and was unfurling a rubber tube, tearing packaging
with his teeth and spitting the remnants on the floor.

Cade stood up and backed away, giving the man room to work.
Watched over Griffin’s shoulder as he expertly inserted a tapered needle into
Nadia’s arm and attached a bag full of a clear solution, likely Ringer’s
lactate.

Griffin asked, “What’s your name?”

Head lolling side to side, Nadia again said, “Mom?”

With Ari standing by and waiting for word to be passed from
Griffin to Lopez that Nadia was stabilized and ready to be moved, Cade pulled
Cross aside and detailed the
wrinkle
that he had alluded to minutes ago.

Cross nodded an affirmative to Cade. He crabbed past Griffin
and said, “We’ll be back in a minute with a litter to carry her down the
stairs.”

Resting one hand on Nadia’s wrist and checking her radial
pulse, Griffin looked up from what he was doing, nodded, and said, “We can move
her whenever you’re ready. She looks worse off than she is.”

Hearing this, Nadia lifted her head off the pillow and her
eyes went to the floor beside the bed. “Someone please bring my phone. All of
my pictures of Brian are on there.”

Lopez looked at Cade. Tilted his head and mouthed, “Brian?”

Cade shrugged.

Chalking the request up to delirium, Lopez said, “Which
stairwell you think is best ... east or west?”

Cade thought about it for a second and said, “The Zs in the
hall were probably on another floor and heard the commotion ... bodies falling
... us opening and closing doors. I’d be willing to bet they came up the west
stairway. The door was hanging open when I got to it.”

“It was open when I cleared the hall,” said, Cross. “I
didn’t hear anything down there when I sealed it up.”

Nadia said, “Brian went out that way ten days ago and didn’t
come back.”

“Probably why it was unlocked,” Cross said to Cade. “Best to
stick with what we know.”

“East it is,” agreed Cade.

“Copy that,” said Lopez. “I’ll have Ari move in for the
extraction. South of the parking lot?”

“Gonna have to be,” answered Cade.

“I’ll take care of the west fire escape,” said Cross.

Cade shrugged off his pack and retrieved a pair of
flashbangs and an olive-green-colored fragmentation grenade. “Let’s go,” he
said, leaving his rifle behind and heading for the door.

“In one mike,” said Cross, looking at his watch.

Cade drew his suppressed Glock 17 and, after consulting his
Suunto, said, “One mike. On my mark.
Mark
.”

Cade closed the door to 610 behind them, peeled off left,
and trotted down the hallway.

Meanwhile Cross padded off in the opposite direction,
stepping over fallen Z corpses and heading for the fire escape at the far end
of the gloomy corridor.

By the time Cade reached the fire escape door he’d already
burned forty seconds negotiating the warren of stacked furniture and zippering
through the tangle of twice-dead corpses. He shouldered it open and pulled the
pin on a cylindrical flashbang stun-grenade. Held the spoon down and picked out
a spot on the ground between the palm trees. Once his watch confirmed a minute
had passed he let the flashbang fly. Then, in quick succession, he tossed an
egg-shaped fragmentation grenade and a second flashbang over the rail.

The zombies below didn’t know what had hit them. First the
brilliant light and sharp report given off by the initial flashbang drew them
closer to the sidewalk at the foot of the building. Then the frag went off in
their midst, sending mostly ineffective shrapnel flying into unfeeling flesh. A
millisecond later a concussive blast wave shook the palm fronds and rolled up
the building’s side. In the next breath Cade saw the second flashbang produce a
sun-like flare of light and hopefully the start to a chain reaction drawing Zs
to the site from blocks around.

Near simultaneous with the reports of his grenades going
off, Cade heard the muffled
pop-whoomph-pop
of Cross’s grenades doing
their thing on the building’s west side.