The Most Uncommon Cold I - Life in the Time of Zombies (10 page)

     I returned from my thoughts to the present and found that the preacher was looking directly at me as if expecting an answer. 
After a moment, he asked, “Have you been saved?” 

     The
question nearly caused me to laugh out loud.  For just a fraction of a second, I considered doing just that and asking the young preacher if he could save me from the demons I had seen that day.  Instead, I said, “Yes, I have.  But there are more immediate concerns right now.” I was surprised at the rational tone of my voice.  “I don’t know if...”

     “Yes, I
’ve seen some strange behavior today,” the minister agreed.

    
I was no longer able to contain my laughter and let it out as I repeated, “Strange behavior? Hmm, strange behavior.  Uh...strange behavior is someone wearing different color socks or talking to themselves as they walk down the street. This goes way beyond strange behavior!”  My body continued to shake with the tremors of laughter, but the sound held more bitterness than humor.

     The
preacher had moved close to me as he said, “Take a deep breath, my son.” 

     The thought of this young
man referring to me as “son” sent another wave of giggles through me. “Well, father, why don’t you tell me about the strange behavior you have seen?”

     He was still looking at me with some concern. He glanced at the others in the chairs and then asked, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

     I thought I saw something in his eyes that revealed genuine fear. 

     I stood and followed him to a table at the back of the room where a large battered, silver coffee urn
sat. He pulled the black plastic lever on the front and steaming coffee poured into a white Styrofoam cup held underneath.  The young minister handed me the cup and then filled one for himself. 

     “We can sit down over here,” he said walking over to a corner where a small couch and a couple of armchairs had been arranged near full bookshelves. 

     I sat down on the surprisingly comfortable couch, and the preacher sat in one of the armchairs.  He had obviously sat in the chair many times most likely counseling couples on marital problems or speaking to young people about the temptations of the flesh. However, this time it was different.  Uncertainty was clear on his face, and he regarded me carefully for a long time before speaking.

     “I am usually not at a loss for words,” he said slowl
y.  “After all, speaking is a major part of my profession.  But in this case... Well, I am not sure how to speak of it.” He looked at me as if gauging how much he should say.  “I am not quite sure how much you have seen...uh...Mister?”

     “Kevin Turner,” I answered
, beginning to feel like myself again. “My name is Kevin Turner, and I’m a reporter for
The Marin Gazette
.”  I am not sure why I offered my profession, but it had become a habit and rolled easily out of my mouth.

     “Well, Kevin, you certainly sound like the person with whom I should speak about this,” he commented and forced an
uneasy smile to his face. “You can probably tell that I haven’t been at this job very long.”  The young man twisted his face and corrected himself, “I mean this calling. I haven’t been at this calling too long.”  

     I smiled at his boyish unease.  “Well, that doesn
’t actually matter right now. What I wanted... Well, you said you have seen some strange things today.  Why don’t you tell me about that?”

     “Well, I have to say … lots of the things I see around here seem strange to me.”  He was unsure of how to express himself, but I imagined that he enjoyed the idea of having a conversation about something other than the Bible. “I grew up in a place that was very different
than here.”

     The snoring sound of one of the men slumped over in the pew caused both of us to
look in that direction.  The two others were not moving at all but still made me feel uneasy.

     “Okay...
uh...Father, we might-”

      “Glen...
call me Glen,” he broke in. “I can’t get used to people calling me ‘Father’.”

     “Okay, Glen, we might
need to hurry here.  I don’t really understand what is happening around here, but things are going crazy.”

     “I certainly agree with you there!  I saw some of my regulars running around outside and attacking a policeman.  By the time I got out there, they had drug him down the street somewhere. 
It looked like the things had no sense of what they were doing.” He stopped, obviously shaken by the memory. “I could hear the man screaming as they dragged him away.  I should have done something.” 

     “If you had tried, you
’d be dead now,” I commented flatly. “I don’t know what is happening with all of this, but I do know that these things just keep going and going.” 

     I had to
force the totally inappropriate image of a marching toy rabbit out of my head. A slight upturn of Glen’s lip showed me that he had been visited by the same image. 

     “I called the police to
report it but got a recording. So what do you think-” Glen was interrupted by the crash of folding chairs being knocked aside, and both of us reflexively turned in that direction.

    
One of the guys who had moments ago been absolutely still was now on top of the snorer.  The other guy was simply standing nearby them, watching.  From where we stood about twenty feet away, I could see the blood spraying from the snorer’s neck.

    
Glen looked very pale as if he might be going into shock.  I did my best to distract him from the fact that one of his regulars was being devoured right in front of him. 

     “Glen!”  No response.  I called his name several times before he turned toward me.  “We need to get out of here!  Is there a
room that is safe?” 

     He looked at blankly me for a few seconds.  Then as if the
meaning of my words suddenly clicked in his brain, the young minister said, “Yes!  The apartment upstairs is safe.” 

    
The regulars were now starting to turn their attention away from the half-eaten body on the chair and toward us. 

     “We need to get up there now!” 

     Without so much as an attempt at answering, Glen ran to the door at the back of the room.  He had it open and was on the other side before I even got half way there. I looked back through the door to see that both of those things were following me.  I slammed the heavy door, and Glen locked the deadbolt in place.  However, the door was an interior one and felt pretty flimsy. 

     “I don
’t think this door is going to hold them very long if they really want to get in here,” I said slowly not wanting to scare my companion any further.

     Glen surprised me with an energetic answer, “Don
’t worry too much about that door.  Hopefully, those things will give up and just move on, but in any case, we will be safely upstairs.” 

     He walked over to the back corner of the small office and tugged on a bit of rope that dangled from the ceiling. A square of the ceiling swung down and with it a
set of wooden stairs unfolded to the floor.

     “Nice,” I commented like some teenager.

     Glen blushed with pride and said, “Thanks.  It gives me a little privacy.” 

     We both jumped at the thud of something hitting the outside of the door.

     “If you help me push the desk against the door, that should slow them down a bit,” Glen suggested.  The young priest was surprisingly calm.

    
It took some effort, but we managed to move the heavy oak desk until it pressed snuggly against the door. Just as we got it into place, the pounding increased to the point that I was sure the door would shatter into splinters.

     “Even with the desk there, I don
’t think that door will last long,” I observed, even as Glen was moving toward the stairs.

     “Come one,” he called and headed up the shaky steps. 

     I put my foot on the bottom step of the light pine set of stairs to steady it as Glen moved slowly upward.  I wondered with a grin just how often he made his way to this little hideout. 

     “Okay, come on up,” Glen called excitedly like some
kid showing off his tree house.  “Just come up slowly, so you don’t rock the stairs too much.”

     I did as he advised and managed to reach the top without too much trouble. What I s
aw as I emerged from the stairs surprised me. 

     The room was
enormous.  There was a large unmade bed in one corner.  A microwave oven and small refrigerator were on a table in another corner.  A worn-looking blue recliner and green plaid loveseat were arranged to face a large plasma television. 

     “Damn!  The preaching business must be
booming,” I said without thinking.

    
The young clergyman blushed and appeared a little embarrassed.  Finally, he stammered, “Well...um...this is sort of my sanctuary...”

     “Like Batman!” I exclaimed to help him out. “So this is your Bat Cave. Well, everyone needs a place where they can relax and recharge.”

     Glen perked up at my words and said, “That’s what I think too!” 

     I looked again at the furnishings and wondered how he got all of it up here. It seemed impossible that it could have come up those
shaky wooden stairs. Just as I was about to ask Glen about this, there was a clang of metal. 

     “Crap!  I didn
’t think anyone could get back there!”   Glen rushed to the back of the room and a door I had not noticed before.  He looked out a peephole in the door.  “I don’t see any... Wait there’s somebody trying to climb over the gate.”

     He moved to the side to give me a chance to look out the door. I peered through the little hole.  It took a second for my eyes to adjust so that I could
make anything out.  There was a building close to this one that formed a dark, narrow alley outside the door.  To the right, a metallic staircase led down to the ground. There was another bang, and I saw a pair of arms at the top of the solid metal gate at the bottom of the stairs.   Then suddenly everything was quiet and still.

     “How strong is that gate?”  I asked.

     “Well, I never thought about it.  I don’t know if it will keep them out or not,” Glen answered apologetically.

     “I guess none of us expected the shit to hit the fan like this,” I replied and
immediately caught myself.  “Sorry, Fa-...Glen.”

     “I don
’t think there is any need to apologize, especially under the circumstances,”  he said with a chuckle. 

     I wondered if we should go check the
gate and try to reinforce it if necessary and if possible. On the other hand, our appearance at the gate might draw more of those things and encourage them to keep trying to get through it. Apparently, this mental debate went on longer than I realized because when I looked over at Glen he was staring at me.

     “Is everything okay, Kevin?”  The young minister asked with such genuine concern that it struck me as
funny. 

     Given the events of the day, my thinking was “everything” was
certainly not okay and never would be again.  The only thing to do was laugh, which I did with all my strength.  Glen regarded me with concern and then with curiosity, and he finally began laughing himself.

     “I guess that is
kind of a silly question,” he said shaking his head.  “ ‘Is everything okay?’ I’d have to give a big fat ‘no’ to that!”  As soon as he got the words out, Glen began to shake with laughter.

     The laughter went on for what seemed like a minute or two.  Once it trickled off to just the
faint tremors of a giggle, I said, “You know this place better than I do, so what do you think we should do now?  We could go down and check on that gate to make sure it’s strong, but that might attract more of those things.”

     All signs of the
recent laughter drained from Glen’s face.  After a moment, he answered, “We could head up to the roof and get a look at what’s going on.  Plus, I’m not really sure how long this room is going to be safe.”

     As if on cue, a loud banging began again on the metal gate. 

     “I think you’re right.  The roof would give us a better perspective and be safer.”  Even as the words came out of my mouth, the image of those things surrounding us and our being trapped on the roof with no exit flashed into my mind.  I saw no reason to mention this to Glen. “So how do we get up to the roof?” 

     “Out there,” he answered slowly and pointed out the door.    

Chapter 7

     Glen peered through the door
’s peephole for a long time before suddenly grabbing the knob and yanking it open.  A blast of surprisingly hot air rushed into the room. 

     “Ready?”  He
asked trying to sound confident.

     I looked at him for a few seconds before answering, “Not really, but let
’s go anyway.” 

     I moved out the door and onto the metal platform that served as a landing.  Glen followed me and turned to lock the door behind him.  Then I heard him snicker.  He shook his head and quietly said, “I don
’t suppose there’s really any reason to lock the door.”

     I just smiled weakly and shook my head.

     We stood just outside the door for a long time listening to the sounds.  There was the blaring of car alarms which had been so constant that I had stopped hearing them most of the time.  The ringing of a burglar alarm a few blocks away could be heard.  There was a faint rubbing, scratching sound.  All at once the sound of gunfire burst out, causing both of us to jump. 

     “Time to go,” I announced to
get Glen moving. 

   He headed toward the stairs down to the ground.  This was
certainly not the way I wanted to go, and without thinking I reached out and grabbed Glen’s shoulder. At the moment that my fingers made contact, his head whipped around toward me. For that instant, his round, soft-looking, freckled face was gone.  In its place, I saw a glimpse of dangerous rage that put me on my heels.  Then just as quickly, the face of the young minister returned.

    “I thought we were headed up to the roof,” I said almost in a whisper.  “Do you think heading back to the ground is such a good idea?”

     Glen smiled and looked at me as one who is used to calming the worries of others.  “It will be okay.  We have to go down and around the back of the building to the ladder that goes up to the roof.  It’s the only way up.”

     I did my best to
return the smile and said, “Okay, F-- Glen, after you.”

     We made our way slowly down the stairs to the floor of the alley.  The rattling on the
gate was getting louder and stronger as we got closer.

     Glen paused a moment
, staring at the gate seeming to consider the things on the other side.  I wondered what might be going through his mind.  Maybe it was something to do with saving their souls.  Of course, I had no idea if those things even possessed souls.  The only thing that I knew for sure was that there was no time to stand around like this.

    
“C’mon!  Show me this ladder!”  I said more loudly and harshly than intended.

     He turned quickly to the left and started walking toward the back of the building.  The pounding on the gate boomed down the alley, and
Glen’s pace picked up until I was forced to trot to keep up with him.

    
“It’s been a while since I was back here, but the ladder should be right up here,”  he said moving slowly along the dark, narrow space between the building and the tall, white cinder block wall.

     “I hope-,” whatever I was going to say was interrupted by a loud bang and
crash as the gate gave way.

      “Shit!”  Glen squawked and began to
run into the intensely dark area ahead. 

     I instinctively looked backward in the direction of the gate even though it was out of my view.  There was a
sort of soft squeaking sound from where Glen had disappeared that brought me back around.  It was too dark to make out the source of the sound.  Although a dark place was the last place I wanted to be, those things were charging ahead, and I had no choice.  I ran in Glen’s footsteps and was thrilled to see him pulling a fire escape ladder down with a metal hook. 

    “We need to get up here!”  Glen shouted when he saw me and started climbing.

     I could think of no clever reply to his statement of the obvious and so simply scurried up after him. 

     Glen grabbed my arm and pulled me up as I climbed through
the space at the top of the ladder and onto the metal platform.  We both looked to the ground as the mob swarmed into the narrow alleyway.  They milled around and seemed to be without any idea as to what to do after finding the area empty.  I watched the things below us and began to notice some similar characteristics.  None of the them showed facial expressions that I could recognize as anger or happiness.  They all looked pale.  At first, I heard no words spoken – only grunts and moans, but then another pair of them entered into the alley. 

     “Where?”  A tall thin man
in dark green coveralls with
Tim
embroidered in gold thread above his right breast asked. 

     “Up there!”  The muscular
guy wearing white t-shirt and blue jeans yelled as he pointed at Glen and me. 

     As if sharing the same
thought at being discovered, both of us jumped forward and yanked the ladder up from the ground.  Glen flipped a hook over the ladder which prevented it from being accessed from the ground. 

     Glen and I were mesmerized by the
scene below us.  The group seemed totally unorganized, shuffling here and there without any clear aim.  But that changed when the two speaking members of the mob moved forward.