Machines of the Dead (27 page)

“Everything. My life. How I almost got us all killed.”

“Look, about that. I’m not saying I want you to forget it—never forget it—but don’t beat yourself up about it anymore. Okay? It’s been forgiven and in the past. Learn from it. Do it again though . . . and we’ll have a real problem.” Jack paused. “Sorry I hit you by the way.” He really wasn’t, but felt the need to tell Zaun that he was.

“Don’t apologize. I deserved it and more.” 

Zaun came over and took a seat across from Jack. “I hate being seen as weak.”

“Who sees you as weak? I, for one, don’t. Far from it in fact. You could’ve taken some of that coke, but didn’t. Back in your apartment, you survived when everyone else died.”

“I was on my own. Most people had others to worry about. To get to. Being able to stay in my apartment, sealed up tight, made it easy. I had to be selfish. Forget about people. Shut out their cries.” He paused, picking up a cracker, playing with it, but not consuming it. “I’ve always been on my own. Never had others to care about, or had others care about me. I’m not using it as an excuse as to why I behave the way I do. It’s just how I am. Things are different now. I see that. I want to be a part of our group. I want to be counted on. I want to make it out of this hell. And I want you and Maria to make it out too. I’m all in. No more fuck-ups. At least not on purpose.”

Jack’s body lightened a bit. Seeing and hearing his friend talk
ing
this way was wonderful. “I’m truly glad to hear it. Want a cup of hot tea?”

Zaun shook his head. “No, I think I’m going to head back to bed. See if I can get some sleep. I feel a little better now.”

Jack grinned. “Get going then.”

Zaun stood and took a few steps toward the doorway and stopped. Turning to Jack he said, “By the way, I tried going online, using the computer in the kid’s room.”

“Anything?”

“Nothing.”

Jack nodded.

“Okay, I’m off to bed. See you in a few.”

Jack got up and made another cup of tea. A few more hours and he’d wake Maria.

Over the next couple of days, Jack and the others sat tight, resting and eating. They passed the time by talking—always keeping their voices low
,
or playing board games, from Monopoly to Battleship to checkers and chess to card games of gin and go fish
,
all thanks to the family that had lived there.

No one went near a window to check on the undead. Jack and the others hoped the walking corpses would leave after a few days. If the things didn’t hear them or see them, they might wander off, like they had back in the alley when Jack rescued Zaun. Nothing showed up outside their door, leaving Jack to feel as if
they had
won some type of sanctuary lotto.

On the fourth day, the group was ready to leave. Food was down to a few MRE’s, bags of tea, and some sticks of beef jerky left by the apartment’s previous residents.

Jack poked his head out the window and checked the alley, seeing only six zombies. Amazing, he thought.

Telling the others, they agreed it was time to leave. Bags packed, they gathered by the window.

“Remember,” Jack said, “
Tasers
only. No guns.” He hated having to use the
Tasers
, wanting to keep them in case someone became infected, but the surest way to keep the undead away was to be as quiet as possible.

The plan was simple: get to the warehouse, then go to the tunnel. Surviving in the city was too dangerous. Their best bet was to go back underground, take the other tunnel and hope it led someplace other than the metropolitan area.

Jack and the others climbed out onto the fire escape. Two zombies were near the dead end of the alley. The other four were gathered two buildings away in the opposite direction.

The group made their way down the steps to the second floor’s fire escape. Jack unhitched the ground-ladder and slowly lowered it to the pavement with Zaun’s help. The thing was heavy, designed to slide down quickly. As hard as they tried, the metal let out screeches, attracting the attention of the undead. The bot-controlled corpses were like paparazzi
,
working their way to one location hoping for the perfect shot
,
except here the undead were hoping for the perfect bite of flesh.

“I’ll save us some
T
aser charges,” Zaun said, and climbed down the ladder. Three zombies waited below, their dried blood-covered fingers inches from his sneakers. He pulled out his sword and began hacking off hands and arms. The zombies didn’t flinch, their vacant expressions remaining the same. Left with only stumps for arms, they continued to reach up, trying to get at Zaun.

Jack felt his blood go cold at the sight.  

Able to descend two more rungs, Zaun began stabbing the undead in their heads, each one dropping to the ground after doing so. As the other zombies arrived, standing on the bodies of their downed brethren, Zaun sliced off limbs and pierced skulls. With two zombies remaining, he sunk the sword’s blade into the head of a massive sized corpse. The blade went in halfway and the big guy collapsed, taking the sword with him, Zaun, apparently, unable to hold on.

With one zombie left, an extremely slow one due to its missing legs, Zaun pulled out his
T
aser and shot the undead thing. He dropped to the ground and retrieved his sword while Jack and Maria descended the ladder.

From there, the group worked its way up the alley, stopping just short of the street. Jack peered around the corner. Three zombies were shambling up the street, facing away from him, but to his right
,
and coming his way was a lone zombie wearing a crimson-stained mechanic’s outfit.

He stepped back into the alley. “One’s coming our way.” 

Zaun pulled out his sword. The Mr. Fix-It zombie came around the corner and Zaun made quick work of it, chopping off its head in one fluid motion. 

Jack peered around the corner again, toward 4th Avenue, and saw three more undead coming up the street toward him. He ducked back, unsure if they noticed him. Either way, the situation wasn’t a good one. The area was still swarming with undead. Maybe they should’ve checked the street out front, made sure it had cleared out somewhat. But that didn’t matter now. They were running low on food and needed to leave. It might take weeks before the area was like it had been when they first arrived. But then again the undead might never leave
,
at least not without a reason. A distraction would’ve been nice. Maybe they should’ve climbed to the roof and tossed a few flashbang’s to another street, get the undead heading in the opposite direction of where they were going. Jack shook his head. Too late now. 

“Three coming our way,” he said. “Not sure if they saw me.”

“I don’t like this,” Maria said, echoing Jack’s thoughts. “There’s still too many undead here.”

“Why haven’t they left?” Zaun asked.

“No idea,” Jack said. “We probably just didn’t give them enough time to wander off. The city
is
vacant. We’re what’s for dinner around here.”

Two zombies came around the corner.

“Guess they saw you,” Zaun said. He sliced the head off one, then jabbed the other through the eye—the corpse still wearing its glasses. The third zombie approached and fell to the ground as it stumbled over its downed brethren. Zaun stepped up and pierced its brain with his gore-caked sword.

Jack checked around the corner again, looking both ways, and saw more undead. “Four more heading our way, but from the left.”

“Shit,” Maria mumbled.

“Don’t think they saw me.”

“We have to make a run for the warehouse,” Zaun said.

Jack knew his friend was right. Working their way stealthily wasn’t going to happen. They were going to have to make a
beeline
to the operations center. Outrunning the undead for a short distance wasn’t going to be a problem, but if they couldn’t get into the place they’d have to hoof it somewhere else. The backpacks would eventually slow them down, becoming a burden, and there was no telling how long until they found a place to not only hole up in, but also that would keep the undead out. They could have hundreds of zombies on their trail within minutes. It was a gamble, but with no other options, the choice was made. 

“Staying here is suicide,” Maria said, holding her M4 close to her chest. “Let’s go for it.”

“Remember,” Jack told them, “we might have to fight to get in if Reynolds has men inside.” 

“Let’s hope not,” Maria answered.

Zaun sheathed his sword and readied his M4.

Jack cocked his shotgun and led the way out of the alley.

They ran down the street, blasting a few zombies that were in their way, the gunshots like dinner bells to the undead.  

Getting to 4th Avenue, Jack saw undead everywhere, milling about like a crowd departing a concert in the park. The things seemed to gain life when they saw the fresh bags of meat running and gunning.

Jack fired at an approaching zombie, disintegrating half its head. He heard gunfire from the others, seeing zombies’ heads jolt back, then fall to the ground.

They moved in a tight unit down the street, then across the parking lot of the warehouse, taking out undead after undead.

“Reloading,” Maria yelled, and Jack and Zaun took up covering her side.

With his shotgun empty, Jack used his M4 and began firing, sending bullets into brains and dropping walking corpses. 

The warehouse parking lots were mostly void of zombies, giving the group a short break from shooting.

Hurrying alongside one of the parked cars, and almost to the building, a zombie wearing a leather biker’s jacket and sporting a “ZZ Top” type beard came from around the side of the building. Jack aimed, sending a round from his M4 into its head, splattering the wall with fragments of skull and pieces of brain matter.  

Making it to the entrance, he yanked on the handle, but the door wouldn’t open. The thing was made of metal and felt pretty solid. As the zombies drew nearer, stumbling around parked cars and bumping into each other, Zaun and Maria took up firing, giving Jack time to work.

Slinging his M4 over his shoulder, he loaded a few shells into the Mossberg, cocked a round and blasted the door’s lock. The door rattled loudly, seeming to come loose. Jack fired again, holding the barrel close to the cylinder, turning the metal into a twisted mess. He pushed against the door and saw that it was loose. Tapping Zaun on the shoulder, Jack motioned for him to help with the door.  

From the corner of his eye, Jack saw another zombie come from around the corner of the building. The thing looked like
it had
been on fire. Nothing but strips of flesh and bone were showing from the waist down, its upper body intact. It walked with severe difficulty, leaning against the wall for support. Jack thought he could’ve pushed it over with a finger and its legs would’ve fallen apart. Pulling out his Sig Sauer, he put a bullet in its head, dropping it quickly.

“Hurry up,” Maria yelled, her rate of fire increasing.

Finally, the door flew open. Relief fell over Jack as he and the others rushed into the faux waiting area of the warehouse. He headed over to the security door at the back of the room and told the others to barricade the entrance.

Using the keycard, he had the door unlocked in seconds and opened it a crack. Gunfire rang out. Bullets littered the area around him, pinging off the metal door and frame.

“We’re going to have to fight our way inside,” he told the others, standing with his back to the wall. 

Zaun and Maria pushed the couch in front of the door just as it boomed and rattled, the undead pushing against it to get in.

“Do something, Jack,” Maria yelled.

He peeked through the crack in the doorway and was able to see most of the large room beyond. Scanning the area, he saw a man pop up from behind the desk and fire a few rounds from a machine gun, cascading the door with bullets. Jack jumped back to the side as a bullet made its way through the crack.

“We have to do something,” Maria said, her voice straining. “We can’t hold them much longer.

“From what I can tell
,
there’s only one man inside.”

The front door jolted open a couple inches, pushing the couch backwards. Undead arms and hands slid through the opening. Zaun grunted as he tried shoving the couch back, but the thing wouldn’t move. The metal door continued its thunderous pounding.

“Jack,” Maria pleaded. “Hurry up.”

Desperate, Jack threw open the security door, and got out of the way as gunfire rang out. Luckily, Maria and Zaun were off to the right and out of the path of the bullets.

“Jack,” Zaun yelled, his voice harsh. “We’re about to be overrun.”

Jack waved his hand in front of the doorway before quickly pulling it back. A three round burst from the lone guard followed. He poked his head out, took view of the overturned desk, then ducked back inside as the man fired again.