Machines of the Dead

Chapter 25

Jack awoke, his bladder feeling ready to burst. Maria was fast asleep next to him. He walked to the bathroom and relieved himself. Shaking the last few drops, he went to flush, stopping himself as his fingers touched the handle, the motion so ingrained he’d almost forgot not to do it. A small error like that and they could be overrun with undead.

Heading back into the living room, he wondered where Zaun was. Not imagining the guy in either bedroom, he checked them anyway.

Where the hell was Zaun?

Son of a bitch, Jack thought and marched to the front door. Zaun’s M4 was resting against the wall. He looked through the peephole, making sure the hallway was safe, then pulled on the door knob, seeing if the lock was engaged.

It wasn’t.

He opened the door about a foot and stuck his head out. There was no way his friend went downstairs, and he doubted Zaun went to the roof.

Jack slowly shook his head. That left only one place: 3F. Zaun couldn’t resist, could he? He simply had to see the place. Check it out for himself. This was bad. Really bad. Jack and Maria had trusted him. What the hell was he thinking, risking their lives for curiosity’s sake?

Jack had to go get him before something terrible happened. Closing the door, he went back into the apartment and retrieved his gun belt and harness, wanting both sidearms with him.

Heading back to the door, he paused, needing a moment to get himself under control. He was livid and needed to do this with a clear head. As long as Zaun was in 3F, the man was safe, but that didn’t mean Jack could take his time. He had to find Zaun and get back to the apartment before any undead came upstairs, or they’d have to fight their way back to 3R, the noise bringing a house full of undead to the floor.

Jack turned the knob slowly and opened the door just enough to allow himself to slip into the hallway. The floor whined under his feet, causing his pulse to pound harder. The noise wasn’t too loud, but with the third floor so hushed, he had no idea what it would take to attract the zombies’ attention. He supposed the combination of their shuffling shoes, the rubbing of their clothing, and their banging into walls was enough to keep the undead from hearing the sound of Jack’s weight upon the floorboards.

Reaching his destination, he opened the door and went in. A few feet away, Jack saw a pair of legs protruding from the bathroom’s doorway. Pulling out his. 45, he walked forward and saw that it was the woman he’d killed earlier. Damn it, she must have been infected.

Odd noises drew his attention away from the corpse. He continued down the hallway and into the living room where he found Zaun flinging what had to be drugs out the window.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Zaun dropped one of the packets, and spun around, sword in hand.

“You scared the crap out of me, Jack.”

“What are you doing?” Jack asked, holstering his weapon. Zaun’s face was pale. He looked terrible, like he’d heard truly awful news.

“Tossing this shit out the window.”

Taking a breath, trying to remain calm, Jack asked, “Why? And why’d you leave the apartment? You put all of our lives in jeopardy.”

“I know,” he said, looking down. “I’m sorry. Wasn’t supposed to be long.”

“Are those keys of coke?”

“Yeah.” Zaun went on to explain how he had to use the bathroom and couldn’t stand to use the one in 3R. He figured going across the hall to a clean, fresh place wouldn’t hurt and he’d be back in no time. He was quieter than a mouse wearing booties, but while doing his business he was attacked by a zombie.

“I saw that. Had no idea she was infected.” Thinking back: the woman did look a little sickly. He should have made sure. Lesson learned.

Zaun told Jack about the lockers, then showed him the room.

“Why not just leave the stuff alone?”

“I’m a recovering drug addict,” Zaun said, then quickly filled Jack in about his past.

“I had no idea.”

“How could you? It was a long time ago, before I met you. I left that part of myself behind. For me, the want is always there. And lately it’s been difficult. All the killing; the death; the guns; the noise.” He shook his head. “The drugs, they’re a way out. A bullshit way, but a way. When I saw what was in the lockers I almost passed out from relief. I was tempted. Really tempted. I walked away, but found myself thinking about them as I did so. That shit is powerful, and I knew being across the hall that I wouldn’t be able to stop picturing those lockers and all the glorious evil they held. I had to do something so that I wasn’t tempted to come back over here and take some.” Zaun looked shaken. “I’m sorry, Jack. I know I really screwed up.”

Jack wanted to ream him out. Tell him if he had listened in the first place, that none of this would’ve happened, but he held his tongue. What was done was done.

“So you figured you’d give to them to the dead, ensuring there was no way you’d try for them?”

“Yeah.”

Jack saw that there were two kilos remaining. “Going to toss those?”

Zaun nodded.

“Then get to it. We need to leave.”

Zaun picked up the last two keys and launched them out the window.

“You realize you’ve stirred them up even more now?”

“Yeah.” Zaun looked crushed; like a little kid informed that his favorite toy is gone.

“And it’ll be that much longer before they leave.”

“I know. I’m really sorry, but it was the only way. I couldn’t take a chance. Knowing that shit was here was just too much. I haven’t been right, not since the world went to hell.”

At the front door, Jack looked through the peephole. A naked male zombie was standing near 3R’s door, slightly wobbling like a drunkard.

“Shit.”

“What is it?”

“Undead right outside 3R.”

“Only one?”

“Yeah.”

“We can take it out easily.”

Jack turned and said, “It’s facing away from us. Kill it as quickly and as quietly as possible.”

Zaun nodded.

Putting his hands on Zaun’s shoulders, Jack asked him if he was going to be okay.

“I’ll be fine. Leaving here will help.”

“Good. Next time, talk to me. We’re all in this together and we’re all each other have.”

Jack moved out of the way, giving Zaun room. Zaun opened the door, the hinges not making a sound and stepped out into the hallway.

The zombie had various gashes and wounds along its back and legs, the sores infected, with a green tinge to them.

Jack wondered how much longer it’d be before others came up the stairs.

Zaun moved gradually, his steps appearing to be purposefully placed, as if avoiding invisible land mines. Jack knew the floor creaked, but had no idea exactly where, but was sure his friend did. Zaun had somehow memorized the noisy areas. The man was amazing when it came to such things.

Jack waited with eager anticipation, wanting nothing more than the zombie dead and he and Zaun safely back inside 3R, but his fear came to fruition when the stairs began to creak. Looking through the rungs of the banister, he saw the blood-drenched head of a zombie.

Zaun drew his sword and plunged the blade into the undead’s skull. The corpse went limp, acting like a corpse should. He turned around as Blood-Drenched reached the landing. Zaun backed away, leading the thing from the stairs. Halfway to Jack, he stopped, waited for the zombie, then jabbed his sword into its right orbital, obliterating the eyeball. The sword poked out the back of its head and the zombie went limp. Zaun caught it before it had a chance to crash to the floor and gently laid it down.

Another zombie was coming up the stairs, an elderly, heavy-set member of the undead. Jack hoped this would be the last one. It lumbered slowly, wobbly on its feet. Four steps down from the top, it fell forward, its face landing on one of the stairs and knocking out its front teeth. Pushing itself back up, it lost its balance and fell backward, tumbling down the stairs.

Jack felt the blood leave his face as the air rushed out of his lungs. That was it. The gig was up.

Zaun met Jack’s eyes. “We’re fucked.”

Jack pulled 3F’s door closed, unsure why, and ran to 3R, not worrying about being quiet any longer.

With Zaun inside 3R, Jack closed and locked the door.

“Maybe we’ll be all right,” Zaun said.

“Go wake up Maria and prepare to leave.”

“Maybe we should get to 3F while we can.”

“We’d be stuck there indefinitely. We’ll stay here for as long as we can and if we have to leave at least we have the fire escape. Now go.”

Jack turned to look through the peephole while Zaun went to wake Maria.

Zaun had screwed up royally, putting them all in danger. Damn it. They could’ve been resting easy. Now they’d have the dead right outside the door, and with 3F’s door closed, the hallway was going to fill up quickly. He should’ve left the place open.

Jack saw the first undead coming up the stairs. It was a male, dressed in a tuxedo, the white shirt with its fluffy front drenched crimson. Behind it was another elderly male zombie, its right eye dangling from the socket like an unfinished electrical outlet. Where the thing’s right ear used to be was a gaping hole of raw flesh. Right next to it was another member of the undead. They were walking hastily up the stairs, side by side.

As the undead reached the top, they spread out in the hall, going this way and that, bumping into walls and each other. There was nowhere for them to go. Jack’s mouth went dry as he watched the torn and bloodied bodies mill about. The door thumped loudly as undead after undead slammed into it. Unable to look away, he watched as the floor quickly filled until his view was obstructed. Feeling the door bow inward, bending under the mass’ weight, he backed away.

The undead were mindless, cramming the third floor, crushing each other. Continuing to retreat, he heard the wood splintering. Being quiet didn’t matter anymore; soon the zombies would be inside. But it wasn’t the door that gave way under the pressure of the dead, it was the hinges, the wood too rotted to hold. First, the top broke away, then the bottom. The door flew open and crashed to the floor. Undead poured into the apartment, falling onto one another, tripping each other up and slowing down the invading horde.

“They’re inside,” Jack yelled as he ran into the living room. “We have to go.”

Zaun’s and Maria’s faces wore masks of terror.

“What?” Maria asked, seeming confused.

“They’re inside,” Jack responded. “Get to the fire escape.”

Arms filled with weapons and supplies, the group fell back to the window. Maria dropped her pack and started firing at the undead as they entered the living room area. Zaun joined her as Jack opened the security gate and window.

“Maria,” he yelled, “ let’s go.”

She stopped firing, grabbed her pack and came over to the window. Tossing her bag onto the fire escape, she climbed out after it. Jack blasted away at the undead, but for every one he dropped, two more took its place.

The unnatural things collided into furniture, falling over the couch and table. They were like an unyielding force, a river. As they spread out, coming around the various pieces of furniture it became harder and harder to take them out.

“Zaun,” Jack said, “you’re next.”

“No, you first. This is my mess.”

“Damn it.”

Jack heard the sound of glass shattering behind him. He turned around and saw Maria smashing out the remaining shards of the barred window with the butt of her weapon. “Move your asses, gentlemen,” she ordered and began laying down cover fire.

Jack crawled through the open window after having tossed his pack out. He yelled for Zaun, then broke the window’s upper section of glass and began firing into the apartment.

Jack heard Zaun cry out. He glanced down to see his friend climbing from the window, a zombie holding onto his left leg, its jaws clenched around the calf.

Jack soccer kicked the corpse in the head. He heard a loud snap as its head flew back, the zombie falling lifelessly back into the apartment.

Jack pulled Zaun to him as he and Maria stood huddled against the railing, trying to get as far away from the reaching arms as possible. She continued firing at the undead as they attempted to make their way onto the fire escape.

Looking down, Jack saw that a number of undead had gathered below, with more making their way down the alley. They had a decision to make-go down and fight, or head to the roof and hope for something better.

“Up or down?” he asked, firing into the head of a badly burned corpse as it made its way through the window.

With no time to reload, Maria and Zaun were down to using. 9mm’s. Jack fired off the last shotgun shell in his weapon.

With all the noise, the alley was filling up fast. He had to make a decision.

“We’re going up,” he said. Maria’s gun clicked empty. She grabbed onto the ladder and climbed. The thing was bolted to the wall, making it completely vertical and impossible, at least Jack hoped, for the dead to climb.

Zaun went up next, then Jack. Upon reaching the roof, he looked down and saw the fire escape flooded with undead. They had just made it. He kept an eye on the ladder, making sure none of the undead could climb it.

Turning around, he saw Zaun standing by Maria. Jack walked up and punched him in the face, sending Zaun to the pebble-covered tar-papered roof.

“What the hell, Jack?” Maria asked.

Zaun sat up, rubbing his jaw.

“Ask him,” he said.

She looked at Zaun.

“Guess I had that coming,” he said, getting to his feet.

“Did I miss something?” Maria asked.

Zaun moved his jaw around, then gave a brief account of his watch and how he went into 3F, and that if it wasn’t for him, the undead would’ve most likely left them alone.

“You asshole,” Maria said, fists clenched, nostrils flared. Jack thought she might take a swing herself.

He felt a little better after punching Zaun. He shouldn’t have done it, but he was too upset to care. They’d almost been killed, turned into zombie chow, and Zaun needed to comprehend that his friend-his understanding friend, needed him to pay in some way, even if that way was in the form of a single punch to the face. Let the guy know how angry he was and that those kinds of actions wouldn’t be tolerated.

“You almost got us killed,” Maria went on. “You know that? And now we’re stuck on this roof in the cold.”

“We need to be able to count on you,” Jack chimed in. “On each other.”

Zaun looked like a kid who had been told Santa wasn’t coming this year. “I’m so sorry guys. ” He looked at Jack, then Maria. “I… it won’t happen again.”

Maria was shaking her head, biting her lip and tapping her foot, appearing ready to explode. She didn’t know about Zaun’s past, his drug problem, but that wasn’t really the issue. If Zaun had remained in the apartment, none of this would be happening. But Jack didn’t want the guy sliding into a depressed state, spiraling downward. They needed him. He had little knowledge of dealing with a recovering addict, but figured it was best to stay positive.

“We need to settle this here and now,” he said.

“Settle my ass,” Maria spat. “How am I supposed to trust this guy? What if you didn’t wake up when you did and the dead came upstairs and into our apartment?”

“I know. But the important thing is that I did wake up.”

“Maria,” Zaun said. “I’m sorry. Sorrier than you’ll ever know. It won’t happen again. I should’ve stayed in the apartment. I know we’re a group. We need each other in order to make it out of here. I was only thinking of myself, pretending the situation wasn’t so bad. I was wrong. So wrong. If I’d listened and stayed, we’d be all right now.”

“Yeah. You should be sorry.”

“I know this might sound crazy, but if you want to hit me go ahead. I think it made Jack feel better.”

This only seemed to make Maria angrier as her fingers curled into fists. “If I want to hit you, I don’t need permission or a free swing. I have a daughter I need to get back to. I won’t let anyone jeopardize that. Do it again and it’ll be more than a fist you’ll have to worry about.”

Zaun nodded. “I understand. Again, to the both of you, I’m so, so sorry.”

Maria seemed to calm down a bit, but Jack could see she was still fuming. She looked like a woman wearing an invisible straight jacket, arms folded tightly over her chest and breathing hard.

“Let’s take care of that leg,” Jack said to Zaun.

“I’ll do it,” Maria offered. “I need to do something besides reload my weapons. Fixing you up will help me calm down. Don’t know why, but it always did on the battlefield. Maybe zapping your ass will make me smile.”

Jack looked at her funny, then smiled. “I’m going to check the roofs, see if I can find a way into one of the other buildings.”

“Be careful, Jack,” Maria told him as he left her to tend to Zaun.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d survive on the roof. They had food and water, making the physical aspect of survival possible, at least for a couple of days, but without sleep-the frigid weather making it impossible-their mental well-being would suffer. And if they planned on making it off the roof, they needed their physical and mental facets to be in top form.

He wondered how the rest of the world was doing, if the bot-virus had spread much farther than the metropolitan area? Was his sister, Sara, okay? She was all he had left. He couldn’t think about her now. He needed to stay focused. When they found shelter, he would take out the picture of his wife and reminisce over it, but until then, he had to leave his emotions, at least the tender ones, at the door.

He approached one of the other roof hatches. Why he thought it would be easier to open than before was completely lost on him. The thing was rock solid and tightly sealed. He thought about trying to blast his way through, but found the idea unlikely to work.

“Hey,” he yelled to the others. Maria looked up. She was rubbing ointment onto Zaun’s wound. “I’m going to check the fire escape on the other building. The one with the ladder.” Maria gave him the thumbs up, then told him to be careful.

There were eight buildings connected together. Jack went to the only other one with a ladder connected to a fire escape and climbed down. Using the stock of his shotgun, he smashed in the window, then began kicking at the security gate. The thing wouldn’t budge. Shouldering his weapon, he reached out to grab the gate, thinking maybe it was unlocked and he could just slide it open, when a set of gnarled and bloodied fingers shot through the bars. Jack flinched, taking his hand back. Looking through the gaps in the bars, wide enough for digits but not much else, Jack saw an elderly member of the undead, dressed in a blue dress and wearing an apron. Trying to see passed the thing, he didn’t think he saw any more undead inside. If it was just the one, it wouldn’t be a problem. He couldn’t reach his hand through the gate anyway, the bars were too close together. The gate was designed according to fire department regulations, allowing a person on the inside to simply pull open the gate without having to use a key or combination. At the same time, the gate could not be opened from the outside, short of cutting through the bars.

Jack was familiar with the devices, having had them on his apartment windows when he lived in Brooklyn. Some of the cheaper ones, or ones that weren’t installed correctly, could be forced open with enough effort placed on them. Apparently, the gate in front of him was put in properly.

He placed the shotgun’s barrel against the gate where the gate opened. What he was about to do probably wasn’t the brightest idea he’d ever had, but he had to try something. Remaining outside wasn’t an option. Cocking the weapon, he secured it with his shoulder, making sure all his weight was on it, and fired.

The gun shot backward, slamming into his shoulder, reminding Jack of when he was younger and fired a 12 gauge for the first time. Studying the gate, he saw that it was no longer flush against the window frame. Kicking it, it was still locked. He’d only loosened it. Again, he placed the shotgun against the gate and fired, grimacing as pain erupted from his shoulder.

“What’s going on, Jack?” Maria said.

Looking up, Jack saw the woman leaning over the roof’s edge, using the ladder for support.

“Nothing. Trying to get us inside. Figured the noise doesn’t matter so much anymore.”

“Guess not, but now you have an audience.” Maria pointed to the ground.

Jack looked down to see a crowd of undead below him, coming from the building he and the others had been in.

“Think you’ll get in?”

“I think so. Maybe another blast and she’ll open.”

“Don’t you dare think about going inside without us.”

“I won’t.” He didn’t tell her about the zombie in the apartment.

Jack cocked the shotgun again, lined up the barrel against the gate and fired, wincing as the butt kicked into his already sore shoulder. The gate flew open, knocking into the zombie, and sent it falling backwards.

Pulling the Sig Sauer out, Jack aimed at the downed living corpse and put a bullet into its head. Holstering the weapon, he waited for the others before going in.

As soon as Maria stepped onto the fire escape, Jack tossed his pack into the apartment and climbed through the window.

He took Maria’s pack from her, placing it away from the corpse, and told her and Zaun that he was going to do a sweep of the place.

He headed for one of the bedrooms and saw how the residence’s layout was identical to the apartments in the adjoining buildings. The master bedroom was clear. The queen-size bed was neatly made. Dresser drawers were in place with knickknacks and framed pictures lying along the top of the bureaus. The closet doors were closed. Whoever had lived there had made sure to tidy up before leaving, probably wanting to return to a clean home.

The other bedroom was also orderly. The bed was made, the covers decorated with a purple floral pattern. Posters of current music groups and movie stars hung on the walls. A row of stuffed animals lined a shelf, while others sat in front of the pillows on the bed. Thinking about the zombie he had just killed, he didn’t think it was a former tenant to the apartment. He was in a family’s home, and from the looks of it, they had a young teenage daughter. Unless grandma had come to visit and was left behind, he believed the elderly zombie must have wandered in from the hallway.

Exiting the bedroom, he passed by the kitchen and the bathroom, both zombie-less and clean-looking. The apartment’s front door was wide open. He approached cautiously and stepped into the hallway. Checking the stairs, he saw they were clear. He heard nothing. No rubbing of fabric. No footsteps. Satisfied, he went back inside the apartment, also labeled 3R, and closed the door.

Maria was waiting for him. “Everything okay?”

“I think so. Maybe we got lucky for a change.”

“Should we do a check of the building?”

“I don’t know. I’d rather just sit tight here. Not take a chance of attracting anything to us. If there were any undead in the building, I think they’d have been up here by now, unless of course they’re trapped in the apartments. If that’s the case, I say let them be.”

Maria nodded. “Amen to that.”

Heading into the living room, they decided Jack would take the first watch. He was the best rested of the bunch. Sure, he was tired, but told the others he was fine. He and Zaun carried the corpse into the kid’s bedroom, not wanting to smell the thing as it decayed. Maria slept in the master bedroom while Zaun took the couch in the living room. All the backpacks were kept packed and in the living room in case the need to leave hastily arose.

Jack went to the peephole and checked on the hallway. Seeing that it was clear, he went into the kitchen. Before using the group’s supply, he checked the cupboards, finding a few cans of vegetables, a box of crackers, packets of jello, sugar, and a box of instant oatmeal.

Wanting something substantial, he opened a can of baked beans from the group’s supply and sat at the table with the box of crackers. A tea kettle rested on the stove. Jack filled it with tap water and set it to boil. He grabbed a bowl from one of the cupboards and poured in a packet of cinnamon and brown sugar oatmeal. While waiting for the water to boil, he looked around, finding moldy bread in a breadbox. He lifted the lid off a ceramic jar and discovered it full with bags of caffeinated tea.

Just as the teapot was ready to scream, he turned off the burner and made the oatmeal and a cup of tea.

Sitting at the table, eating his meal, he noticed that the microwave wasn’t showing the time. Looking around, he saw nothing indicating that the electricity was on. He got up, went over to the light switch and flicked it on. The overhead light flared to life, brightening the window-less kitchen.

After finishing his meal, he sat back, letting his stomach settle. The apartment was so quiet. Closing his eyes, he could be anywhere. Now was the time to let a little of his emotions out, having no idea when he would get another chance.

Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out the wallet photo of his wife and stared at it. His heart began to ache. He had mourned her at the bunker, but not nearly enough. His throat felt tight. Sipping the warm tea helped with the uncomfortable sensation.

He and Jess had been sitting on the couch, watching television. By morning, she was sick. A few moments later, she was dead. He still couldn’t believe it, and if he hadn’t gone back to his apartment after the fact, he wasn’t sure he would believe it. Yes, he’d seen her body in the bunker. Pressed the button, putting her corpse down, but it was still so hard to fathom. Seeing their apartment the way it was had been surreal, but at the same time it was waking, truthful.

Staring at her beautiful face, he remembered their time together, from waking up in the morning and seeing her tired eyes, to eating dinner at a quaint little downtown joint. Tears filled his eyes. He blinked, sending them down his reddened cheeks. He missed her so much. The picture he was holding had captured her smile perfectly. He’d do anything to see her again. Feel her. Smell her. Touch her. Anything. Bringing the photo to his lips, he kissed it gently.

He sat staring at it for some time, lost in the past, when Zaun startled him. “Miss her a lot, huh?” he asked.

Jack wiped his cheeks and stuffed the photo back into his jacket. He turned around to see Zaun standing in the doorway.

“You should be sleeping. You need the rest.”

“Tried. Couldn’t. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, thinking. ”

“About?”

“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.