For the Fallen Page 20
grabbing hold of the gutter. The building looked new enough that I hoped the screws
that held it in place would support my weight for the second or two that I would need.
I pulled my body out of the window and then swung my legs up and onto the roof. So
far, so good. If it gave out now, I’d be heading to the ground head first. I pushed
up with my right arm and then found myself atop the roof. Tommy looked much more graceful
as he gripped the gutter with both hands and pulled himself up high enough that he
was able to land on the roof in a standing position.
“Show off,” I told him.
Tommy had moved ten feet to my one as he headed towards the apartment front door and
our ultimate destination. I was in no rush. This wasn’t like pulling off a Band-Aid.
I wasn’t going to feel better once this was over. No, in contrast, I was going to
feel infinitely worse. I was going to kill this girl and then tell her father I’d
done so—deeper into the depths of hell I plunged. If getting my soul back had been
hanging precariously on a ledge, I’d just sprayed lighter fluid all over it, lit it
on fire, then decided to piss the flames out and kick it over the precipice.
I came up beside Tommy. He was staring over the edge and straight down at Melanie.
“Do you want me to do it?” he asked.
I shook my head and thanked him silently. “She’s my niece.” I brought the rifle up
and switched the safety off.
Her gaze shot skyward towards me. Above the din of the zombies banging on the door,
she heard that small metallic sound. Of-fucking-course she did. Her once deep blue
eyes were looking up at me; for a moment I almost saw the girl I knew. If I just stayed
focused on them, I would have not been able to shoot. It was the rage contorting the
rest of her features that made me realize she was gone and would under no circumstances
be coming back. I never heard or felt the shot as my body rocked back slightly. I
would, however, never forget the look of confusion on Melanie’s face as the bullet
dug into her head and destroyed her brain. I’ll swear to the day I die, if that ever
happens, that for the briefest of moments, she was lucid and knew that her uncle had
betrayed her.
“Come on,” Tommy said. “We have to go before the rest of them figure out where that
came from.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetie.” I turned to follow.
Tommy ran to the far side of the building and then just leaped. I was kind of in shock,
and now I had to try and figure out what he was doing. I quickly got to the edge to
see if he was alright. He was looking around and then up.
‘Come on,’ he was mouthing, moving his arm for me to follow.
“No fucking way. That’s got to be like thirty feet.” My body at this stage in my life
could barely handle the shock of a five-foot drop.
“You can’t be this dense, you’re half a vampire you’ll be fine.” Shit, I thought as I steeled my courage to jump. I was in the air when he added. “And
if you break something I’ll carry you.”
I hit the ground and rolled like I’d been taught in paratrooper school. It was probably
a superfluous action, but I didn’t see the reason to take any unnecessary risks.
“I don’t think any of them saw us,” Tommy said as we headed out.
Tomorrow, when the zombies cleared out, I was going to go back and give her a proper
burial.
Chapter 14– Doc Baker
They had pulled into a large warehouse through fences that looked as if they had been
erected post-zombie. Two large mechanically run gates patrolled by a platoon of men
let them in after doing a thorough check of them all, looking for any signs of infection.
Machine gun nests were strategically placed on the top of the building, allowing those
up there to rain hell-fire down on any and all invaders.
“I thought it would be bigger,” Doc said.
Captain Najarian laughed. “I’ve heard that before. Come on, Doc,” The captain said
as he led Doc to a hydraulically operated manhole cover.
“Down there?” Doc asked.
“Most of our base is actually down here. This warehouse merely houses the way in.
Any problems with claustrophobia?” the captain asked as he descended.
“No more than the average person. I feel apprehension at tight spots.”
“The way in is a bit tight. After that, it opens up.”
Doc was happy that he had only to walk bent over for a few hundred yards. He had been
under the mistaken impression that at some point the conduit was going to squeeze
down and they would be forced to crawl. When they came to the end, a large blast door
stood open. A Marine armed with a sub-machinegun saluted as the captain entered. When
it finally opened up, he was amazed. The initial room was, for lack of a better term,
cavernous. Man-made, but cavernous. A group of ten to twelve personnel sat hunched
over computer monitors in the center. A large screen dominated the far wall; although
nothing was projected on it at the moment.
“We’re attached to the grid, such as it is. We’ve found other holdouts, and we either
try to retrieve them or send them supplies if they’re already in a stable environment.
We’ve been able to uplink with satellites and have a decent communications grid going.”
“Impressive,” Doc said.
“We’re trying to mount a comeback, Doc. If it’s going to happen, this is where it
will start. I’m hopeful, but I’m also realistic. Man is barely holding on. Even without
the threat of zombies, man is turning on each other. We’re trying to restore some
order of normalcy before we completely do ourselves in.”
For the first time in a long while, the doc found some hope. “Weapons?” he asked.
“Some, we’ve got a few attack choppers and a few jets with more pilots to fly them
than machines to be manned. What we’re running low on is mechanics to keep them serviced.
However, this war is not going to be won with bombs and bullets, it’s going to be
won with these.” The captain pulled out a vial. “Or something like it. Come on.” He
led him across the room and through another corridor.
“What is this place? It certainly isn’t a sewer.”
“Back in the 60s, when the Cold War was in full swing and we thought the Ruskies were
going to send nukes at any moment, the US built these havens all across the States
in case the president was visiting somewhere and couldn’t get back to a safer place.
Supposedly this can withstand a direct nuclear strike.”
The doc was looking around. “I’d just be happy if it would keep zombies out.”
“In that, we are in agreement,” the captain said to him. “Welcome to the hospital
wing.” Captain Najarian swept his hand for the Doc to enter before him.
“What kind of equipment do you have here?” Doc asked in wonder. The room was easily
fifty-by-fifty and had thirty hospital beds, each with heart monitors. Most of the
beds were unoccupied.
“Just about everything a major metropolitan hospital would have. X-ray, MRI, diagnostic
machines up the wazoo. I’ll be honest, I don’t know what most of the stuff is, but
I’m told it’s top notch.”
“Medicine?”
“Everything from Aspirin to Zinc.”
“This is incredible.”
“I thought you’d think that.”
“You have doctors on staff?”
“We have more mechanics than docs. Hospitals were hit the hardest when the outbreak
occurred. We have Doc MacAvie, but I think he’s like a hundred and eight and retired
before this place was built. There are some technicians, a few nurses, a coroner and
then the head of staff, Doctor Fenling. She’s about as prickly as a dried out cactus,
but she’s proficient at what she does. She’s a top-notch surgeon, has a harder time
with the smaller cases like broken bones and such. She also has the bedside manner
of a pissed off chimpanzee.”
“Sounds charming.”
“Oh, you have no idea.”
“What do you have the techs working on?” Doc asked.
“A cure.”
Doc paused. “And?”
“Most of these guys were drug analysts. You know, making sure Joe Job-Seeker wasn’t
puffing a few magic dragons before he started stocking shelves. I think we have everything
they need. A pressurized, sealed lab, culture growing ability, all the machinery they
could ever dream of, but it’s still like first graders trying to comprehend advanced
physics. They’re fumbling in the dark here.”
Doc clutched his suitcase to his chest. This place was the key, he knew it, but that
didn’t diminish his personal vendetta. There was most likely no safer place in the
nation for Porkchop. Could he leave him, though, and strike out on a fool’s quest?
Tommy needed to pay for what he had done to him and his family. It mattered little
that Tommy had been forced to partake in the destruction. He was the only semi-living
thing still out there that could slake the hatred that burned in Doc Baker.
“I might be able to help, Captain, but I’m going to need a couple of things in return.”
“Name it. If I can get it authorized, I’ll do it.”
Doc nodded and then licked his lips nervously. “I want Porkchop to be allowed to stay
here.”
“That’s an easy one, Doc. I’ve got a feeling the next request is going to be a lot
bigger.”
“Eliza had a brother.”
“Tomas?” the captain asked, surprising him.
The Doc had a hard time swallowing as acid from his stomach shot up through his esophagus
at the mere mention of the name. “Yes…him. I want him destroyed and I want to be the
one that does it.”
The captain rubbed his face. “Well, I was right. That one is a doozy. If this Tomas
exists…”
“I can assure you he does. The blood of my family runs strong through his veins.”
“Okay, so he does exist. And if I am to believe that his sister was indeed a vampire
that controlled the zombies, then almost by implied relation, Tomas’ blood might have
the same effect on them as his sister’s. I can’t destroy what could potentially be
a remedy for what ails us. I am truly sorry for your losses, Doc, I am. But you’ve
got to see this on a broader scale.”
“I’ll look at it on any damn scale I want to!” the doc said, nearly yelling. “You
and your fancy little get up weren’t there while Eliza was ripping up my family, while
her little lap dog Tomas drained them dry. I was! They begged me to help them, they
were screaming for me at the end. And I couldn’t do anything.” He was sobbing. “She
made me watch, she was even laughing at my torment. I have to…I have to kill him.
It’s the only thing that will bring me peace.”
The captain put his arm around the doctor. “I’ve been through some difficult losses
myself,” he said, his eyes getting a momentary distant glaze to them. “I can assure
you that killing him will not bring you any solace. In fact, it will only make matters
worse.”
The doc wanted to shrug the man off, but the racking sobs were making that impossible.
“If we can catch him and we can get what we need from him then I promise, Doc, I’ll
let you do whatever you feel like you need to. Fair enough?”
Doc finally got himself down to some sniffling. “I have some paper work, vaccines
and some other samples I was working on. I’d like to get them replicated.”
The captain stepped back. “Vaccines, Doc? Vaccines for what?”
“The start of what you’re looking for.”
The captain’s entire body fleshed out in goose pimples. Hope, which had seemed such
a small elusive bastard, had just doubled in size for the captain.
He made sure Doc’s suitcase was treated like the gold it was and had personally made
sure that the contents in its entirety were safe. The doc rested for a few hours before
he came looking for the captain.
“You ready for the rest of the tour?” the captain asked.
“There’s more?”
The captain led the way. The corridor was dark and narrow as they stepped in. The
captain hit a light switch, illuminating the hallway. It was not more than a couple
of feet across. On the left was smooth concrete, and on the right were large glass
panes that went nearly floor to ceiling.
The doc gasped when he saw what was in the first room.
“We’re safe,” the captain said, indicating to the housed zombie.
“Are you sure? I’ve yet to see a horror movie where holding the monster was ever a
good idea.”
“We’ve got to know our enemy to better destroy them.”
“Sounds very Art of War-ish.”
“In a manner of speaking, it is. We’ve been doing tests on them to discover ways to
stop the viral takeover. Also, we’ve been doing extensive testing on their abilities
to learn and adapt. They’re not exactly the mindless brain eaters we thought they
were. In fact, just recently they’ve begun to exhibit intelligence of a sort we didn’t
think they were capable of.”
“How so?” the doc asked, not willing to step too close to the glass.
“They can’t see you, and that glass would stop a bullet.”
“How big a bullet?” The doc took a halting step further in.
The captain laughed. “Big enough. When we brought in Zippo here, he couldn’t so much
as open a door, no matter what kind of handle it had on it.”
“Zippo?”
“Yeah we give all of our zombies names that start with ‘Z’. Zippo, Zedrick, Zeus…”
“You named a zombie after a god of old? I’m not so sure I agree with that. How many
of them do you have?”
“Fifteen.”
“Fifteen? That I definitely don’t agree with.”
“You’re not the only one, I can assure you, but the research it could provide would
be invaluable.”
“Alright, I am attempting to move past the fact that a zombie is no more than a few
feet from me. What advances are they exhibiting?”
“Well, for instance, our buddy here has figured out doors. I’m talking regular doorknobs,
handles, push-bars, everything…even being able to pull them open, which before recently
was something completely out of their skill set. It’s almost a geometric progression.
In a few more months, they’ll probably be able to do their own research on how to
stop us,” the captain quipped.
“That’s not really amusing.”