Last Fight of the Valkyries (32 page)

To Victoria he shouted, “I love you!”

She replied, “I love you too, Liam. Don't stop running!”

They each took off to the right. Victoria went into the first
column of tanks while he ran on the outer wall for another
twenty-five yards and then stopped.

This is where I may ruin my shorts.

He waited. He could see Blue running in the opposite direction
from him along the outer wall. Her job, like his, was to get the
zombies to follow them up the columns of tanks so they'd get as far
into the room as possible. Then all the runners were going to cut
back to the door by running on the outer wall near the last row of
tanks. He and Victoria had gone right. The sisters all went left.

The first zombie stumbled and fell as he got around the corner
tank, nearest the fire. Liam almost felt sorry for it. It seemed to
take a long time to push itself off the floor and then stand upright.
With an almost comic timing, it noticed Liam and snapped its head
sideways as if it was upset its tumble had been noticed. Others were
soon behind it, and the chase was on.

5

Liam's plan was supposed to be simple. Run to the corner of the
room, turn, then run the length of the room, turn, then run to the
door. Getting to the corner was easy. With adequate lighting and his
runner's form, he easily outpaced the clumsy zombies by a wide mile.
But again, he had to wait so the zombies got a good look at him. He
had to draw them to him.

The man who tripped had managed to stay in front of the dozens of
follow on friends. It almost seemed like he tried to make up for his
embarrassment by working harder than any of the others.

“Good job, runner!” he shouted. Partly to keep himself
focused. Partly to encourage the zombies to go the last few yards
into the corner.

He saw Victoria. She was already running back along the length of
the room. No zombies were behind her, which was good. If they got
between them, it would mean he was cut off.

“Got to run!”

No longer fooling around, he sprinted to catch up to Victoria. He
knew she was no slouch, and in fact, had already crossed the half-way
point of the room. In a few moments, he too reached the mid-point,
but he slid to a stop in the dry dust and rock when he saw what was
there.

The railroad tracks lay in grooves in the rock. The pair of them
went underneath a huge vault-like door. The door was metallic, and
bowed slightly outward. Though he couldn't see the thickness, it had
the bulk of solid steel several feet thick, like the door had its own
gravity. There were no hinges, no handles, and no signage. But it was
a door nonetheless.

It was large enough to fit a train engine, which made sense given
the fact the train tracks went underneath it. Impressive as that was,
the real reason he stopped was because of the black dome hanging from
an overhang a few feet above the door. In the dark recess, away from
the direct glare of the powerful lights, he saw a tiny red light
flashing on and off. Inside the dome, he imagined a video camera. He
felt it was on and watching what was happening outside its front
door.

Briefly, he waved his arm up at the camera—willing whoever
was inside to open the door. But a quick look back told him his
chance of getting safely inside the giant door was already past. The
zombies made good time and closed in on him. More zombies walked up
the middle aisle, along the railroad tracks. Yet the thing that
really got him moving was seeing a zombie pop out of one of the
columns of tanks in the direction Victoria had already run.

Uh oh. I'm behind them.

Sprinting for his life now, he ran directly toward the lone
zombie. It was a tall, skinny man. His shirt had been ripped off,
leaving his bare upper body exposed to the elements. He looked like
he'd been rolling around on sharp rocks, as he was covered in
scratches and smeared blood. His face was splashed with blood too,
but his teeth were unnaturally white as he snarled with anger at
Liam.

Meanwhile, Liam's mind constructed the most heroic action he could
do: run, jump with the spear in hand, and drive the wooden stake into
the brain of the hapless zombie. Then he'd continue running like he
owned the place.

But that wasn't the safe way.

Rather than risk a chance encounter with the straggler, he ducked
into the tanks. As he did so, another male zombie emerged to join the
tall one. He didn't get a good look at it, but didn't try either. He
was feeling the call of panic.

He ran into the column, ran lengthwise between two tanks, then
turned right at the first row to run between the front of the tanks
on the right, and the rear of the tanks on the left. He didn't
recognize the models, but they looked to be World War II vintage—as
if they'd been sitting in this room for a long time. The overhead
lights were unable to completely pierce the darkness between the
tightly packed tanks, giving a creepy aura to the steel beasts.

The cavern swallowed noise for the most part, but the drone of the
zombies was steady and loud. There were far more than any of them had
guessed.

Ahead, a zombie walked by. Maybe three tanks ahead. The woman
didn't look from side to side. She just kept her head straight.

Liam ran. He turned as he entered the channel where he thought
he'd seen the woman. She was indeed there; she had reached the rear
row where white-teeth zombie had been. He only caught a glimpse of
her as he ran, but he was terrified of the hand which touched his
shoulder from his left side. He didn't look back. He focused on
running.

Row after row of tanks were ahead of him. More zombies funneled
down each column, and he knew it would only take one to block his
path for good. Then he'd be surrounded—and eaten.

No, they'd only drain my blood. As if that's better
…

It happened sooner than he'd hoped. A zombie ahead lazily turned
the corner toward him, as if it were just wandering randomly.

Liam didn't wait, he turned to the right, made a quick
recalculation, then pulled himself on top of one of the tanks. This
time he knew the tank model. It was the distinctive rounded hull of a
Sherman tank, white star and all.

From the higher vantage point, he saw the whole scene. The heads
of the zombies inside the aisles between the tanks bobbed everywhere.
They were thickest in the middle of the room, as he expected, but
they were spreading out in all directions like water filling an ice
cube tray. Several more had reached the outer wall behind him.

His stomach lurched at the realization he was completely
surrounded while deep inside a rock quarry. With a hard lean against
the turret of his tank, he took a moment to catch his breath. His
mind played tricks on him as he heard what he thought was the screams
of girls from elsewhere in the room.

“Liam!”

He recognized that one. He swept the ground behind his tank, but
quickly grasped Victoria wasn't on the ground at all. She waved her
arms while standing on the flat rear deck of her own tank. The arms
of zombies reached up at her, though they had no chance to reach her
as high as she was.

Not without climbing.

That got him moving. The jump from one tank to the next was easy.
Much easier than jumping from one moving barge to the next with
Great-Grandma on his back. The zombies couldn't see him as he jumped,
and by the time he registered on their fresh food radar, he was
already out of sight—jumping to the next tank. In sixty
seconds, he hugged Victoria.

“Oh my God, Liam. This is unbelievable. Where did all these
people come from?”

Liam didn't want to share his thoughts. Not here. On the day
they'd passed this mine, a few days after the sirens, the line of
cars going down the spiral road was endless. The entire highway had
been blocked by the closed bridges, and the mine seemed like a place
to hide. As Black had said, everyone seemed to think a quarry was a
good idea, though he hoped it wasn't because of a TV show. They'd
passed car after car inside the mine too, which means there were
potentially thousands of survivors, maybe tens of thousands, deep in
the corridors of the mines. Travis had said he threw out most of the
maps because they were too bulky to carry. That could mean the
tunnels went on for miles and miles in all directions…

And they were all coming here.

As more zombies spotted them on the open deck, they began to
converge around the old tank. He felt Victoria tighten her grip on
him, as if she was afraid she'd fall over the side into the waiting
arms of the dead men and women below.

“I think we may have made a mistake coming here.”

He didn't disagree, but he was silent—he scanned the room,
searching for the key to their escape he knew had to be there. He was
the hero, time to start acting like one.

Layers of fear mixed with panic and the reality of it all settled
in.

There's no escape. Not from down here.

Liam and Victoria held each other as the zombies swirled about on
the ground below them. The deck of the tank was higher than any one
zombie, but Liam had seen enough of them to know that once enough of
them got together, they would start to trample each other and climb
up over the bodies of their fallen friends.

And, if they were from Chicago...

He surveyed the crowd and found one that seemed to have figured
out how to scramble up the side of the tank treads, very much like
using a ladder.

“That one!” He pointed to the climber. “She's
climbing. We have to move.”

He scanned the tank park, and focused on where he thought the
first two men had gone. The plan called for them to jump into a tank
nearest the exit, and then all the zombies were supposed to be drawn
by the fire deep into the room. Liam and the girls were then to run
around the outside of the parked tanks and meet up with the men once
more, then run along the blue rope lights until they could escape. It
was basically a huge bait and switch.

Only, the switch never happened because the bait was still drawing
the zombies through the front door.

Liam led the way as he jumped from one Sherman tank to the next,
heading in the direction he hoped he'd find the men. They scrambled,
hopped, and climbed tank after tank, often only inches above the
straining arms and hands of the infected horde. When they reached the
last one in the corner, they had to turn to the left so they could
jump the tanks in the column. That would bring them closest to the
entrance, and to the place he hoped the men were hiding.

“Liam...” Victoria's voice wavered.

He leaned against the fifteen-foot long gun barrel while he looked
over his shoulder. “Just keep going. Don't look down.”

Victoria moved to the top of the turret, a few feet behind him.
She crouched down, so as to steady herself from a terminal tumble.
“It isn't down I'm worried about. It's across.” She
pointed to the next tank.

Unlike the jumps from side to side, the gap from the front of one
tank to the back of the other was much greater. And, as the fronts
dipped down, the tail ends of these tanks were blocky and high. If
they were going backward, it would be a snap. Going forward was going
to be a challenge.

There was no time for fancy plans. Already a zombie was grabbing
the side of the tank and—no matter how clumsy the attempt—was
managing to climb up the side. It seems there were more than a few
people from Chicago hiding in this mine.

He ran down the short front piece of hull, placed his foot on the
flat front fender, then jumped. He landed on the back deck, though he
stumbled a bit on the uneven metal. He wasn't in any real danger of
failing to make the jump, but they'd have to do it god-knows how many
times to get where they were going.

Victoria moved to the spot he'd just vacated on the tank behind
him. She smiled weakly, then made the short run and took her jump.
She landed at about the same spot, and even tripped the same way he
did.

“You weren't supposed to fall.”

“I do what you do,” she said with a real smile while
she sucked in air from her burst across.

“We better keep moving.”

She took his hand as they both stood up on the rear deck. “You
truly know how to show a girl a good time.”

“Just wait until you see how I get us out of here.”
Once he'd said it, he felt the pressure building once more.

Why can't I just keep my mouth shut?

He swept the room as they inched around the turret of the olive
drab tank, but he still saw nothing that gave him any hope he could
deliver on his glib promise to wow Victoria. The big vault door was
the only thing that might give him some hope if there was any
indication from within that help was to be had. His heart told him
someone saw him, but his head informed him it didn't really matter
because there were so many zombies in their front yard now. If they
were huddled in there for protection, he didn't think now was the
time they'd come out.

Another jump. They cleared the gap to the next tank, though the
ground had become packed with sick-looking spectators. A few zombies
had made it onto the tank behind them, though they had trouble
staying upright on the uneven surface of the sloped vehicle. One fell
to the side, the other made an honest effort to cross the gap behind
him but he too fell into the crowd.

The next few tanks were uneventful. They were getting better at
jumping and had it down to a science by the time they reached the
tenth row. But then the olive gave way to tan, and the technology
ramped up from mid-twentieth century to last week. They reached the
first of the many rows of M1 Abrams.

Liam cleared the distance with no issues. The Abrams was slightly
higher than the rear of the Sherman, but it was flatter and easier to
plant a landing for him. Ahead, the deck of the newer tanks was
easier to walk on and jumping would be less risky.