Season of Rot

One

Daniel dangled his feet over the edge of the demolished stairwell. Two floors below, the creatures waited, stretching their decaying arms toward him. Frustrated, unable to reach their prey, they pushed each other and occasionally knocked one or two of their brethren off the jagged end of the stairs. Daniel imagined the bottom of the stairwell, dark and littered with broken bodies, masses of them crawling and dragging themselves about, unable to work their way back up the stairs or find their way out of the hospital.

When Daniel and his group took refuge here, they destroyed the stairs and cut the cable to the elevators, leaving the dead no way up to reach them. The effort had proved well worth it; now the refugees could sleep in peace.

Daniel shifted the rifle across his lap and checked its chamber, then lifted the gun to his shoulder and aimed at the horde below. Only a headshot, or general destruction of the brain, would send the things back to Hell. Daniel found a target and squeezed the trigger. The rifle kicked as the high-velocity bullet tore through the dead thing’s skull in an explosion of wet pulp. It was a futile gesture, really: millions of people, nearly everyone in the city, had turned into walking mounds of rotting flesh whose sole purpose was to tear off your face and eat it; Daniel and his group could never kill all of them. But he enjoyed it from time to time. He joked that it was his tiny piece of vengeance.

No one from the floors above came running to investigate the shot. They knew Daniel was on watch today and were accustomed to his habits.

Aside from Daniel, more than four dozen living souls called the hospital home. They collected rainwater on the roof, tried to grow crops in or on the building wherever they could, and rationed out the dwindling supplies from the hospital’s cafeteria and emergency stores. They’d moved the generators and the fuel supply to the upper floors and had limited the use of electricity as much as possible. Even so, their time here was running out. One day soon, if help didn’t come, they’d all be forced to pack up and move… assuming they could find a way through or past the thousands of creatures occupying the bottom three floors of the building and surrounding its walls outside.

Daniel sighed and lit up a cigarette. He was down to three packs and getting nervous about the supplies running out. Luckily only two other people in the group smoked, or the cigarettes would have been gone already. He took a deep drag and held it in, savoring the taste before exhaling. Glancing at his watch, he noticed his shift was almost over, and hoped it wasn’t an omen of some sort. He stood up, thanking God he could return to his real job in the communications room, and headed out of the stairwell to meet his replacement.

Laura sat up in bed as the coughing fit hit her. She threw back her blankets and slammed her bare feet onto the cold tile in a frantic dash for the bathroom sink. She stumbled into the room, wearing only a t-shirt, and she grabbed the sink’s edge to support herself as the coughing grew more intense. What she hacked up was more solid than mucus and drenched in blood. She stared at it in horror as the coughing died down.

Letting go of the sink’s edge, she slid to the floor and tried to catch her breath. I’m a doctor, damn it. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen to her. She had never touched a cigarette in her life. She worked out and ate right, yet here she sat dying of cancer in a time where people needed her skills and knowledge more than ever.

No one else knew how sick she was. She hid it well and put up a good front. The hospital was stocked with the medicine she needed, enough medicine to curb her symptoms and keep her comfortable most of the time. At least it had been enough until things began to get worse.

With her t-shirt, she wiped the blood from around her mouth and got to her feet. Today was going to be a busy day. Not only was she the doctor of the group, she was also a member of its leading tribunal, a responsibility she shared with Jack and Vince.

She was also supposed to be finding a cure for the plague, but that was a joke. She wasn’t a research scientist, just a doctor, and even after months of studying the plague she knew little more than when she started.

Today, her focus was on her administration duties and helping Jack and Vince agree on an evacuation plan for when the time came to find a new home. According to Jack’s last inventory check, even with their rationing system they had a month, tops, before people started starving and their tiny piece of the civilization collapsed into mutiny.

Laura changed into her day clothes and put on her happy face. Then she headed out to meet up with the boys.

Jack stood on the roof of the hospital, looking out into the city, parts of which were still ablaze. Dark smoke joined the usual clouds of lingering smog, making the day seem pale like the rotting flesh of the creatures on the streets below.

It was hard for Jack to remember what the world had been like before the creatures came. Less than a year ago things had been normal, but the plague had spread so fast that no one, not the government, the military, nor the C.D.C., had been able to stop it. The city around him had changed from his home to a sick version of Hell on Earth where only the strong and the determined stayed alive.

Jack was a tall man and well built. Standing there on the roof he looked every inch a king, and in a sense he was. This new world had forced the burden of leadership upon him.

He lifted his binoculars to his eyes, trying to figure out a path through the dead. The only vehicles he had at his disposal were locked away in the hospital’s garage. They were mostly simple cars built for civilian use, not for fighting through a horde of hungry, flesh-eating monsters. The only larger vehicles were a few dump trucks left behind from his work crew. None of them were what he needed, and even if they were, reaching them would be a problem.

The safest way to the garage was a long and difficult climb down an elevator shaft. At the end of the shaft dozens—maybe hundreds—of the creatures waited; like the first three floors of the hospital, the garage was infested with the dead. There simply hadn’t been time to close it off when Jack and the group had taken refuge here.

Some of the other refugees still believed help was coming, but Jack suffered no such delusions. Any survivors out there were certainly in the same sort of mess his group was in, or at least incapable of breaching the armies of the dead to rescue them. There would be no help coming. It was up to him, to them, to find their way out of the city—if there was one. Any attempt to escape would cost them lives, but Jack was willing to accept some losses for the greater good as long as some of them survived to carry on. And as long as his ass wasn’t one that got chewed off along the way.

Clutching a beat-up Daffy Duck doll in his sweaty palms, Chris made his way down the winding hospital corridors to the nursery. In a few moments he would see his daughter for the first time. The doctor, Laura, hadn’t let him stay during the delivery last night. There had been complications with the birth beyond his understanding. He’d been forced to wait outside as Natalie entered the world and his wife Rebecca left it.

He had watched as Jack and Mitchell carried her to the roof, her body wrapped in bloodstained sheets bound with thick ropes. Chris had cried and screamed, had even tried to attack Mitchell, but Jack calmed him down. “Think of your daughter,” he had said, as if giving an order. “She does need you.” Chris knew he was right and did his best to hold in the sobs.

He tore the hospital apart after that, looking for a gift he could take to his new daughter. At last he found Daffy inside a desk drawer in one of the offices. He sat and stared at the doll for hours, weeping for Rebecca, himself, and Natalie. He managed to pull himself together just as Laura found him and told him he could visit his child whenever he was ready.

Before he went in, Chris walked around and gave himself time to prepare, letting his excitement drive away the horrors of the world. Finally, he was ready. He ran the last few steps to the nursery proper, and as he rounded the corner he saw his daughter and stopped dead in his tracks. His breath left his body as if someone had punched him in the gut.

Beyond the nursery window, a nurse cradled the newborn, trying to soothe her as she cried and waved her tiny arms. Chris took a deep breath and stepped into the room. The nurse smiled and held Natalie out to him just as he held out the doll. He reddened, embarrassed by the mix up. And then he took his daughter into his arms, and his heart nearly burst with pride.

Jack and Laura waited in the conference room for Vince to arrive. As usual he was late. Jack gritted his teeth and, scowling, checked his watch again. Laura hoped Vince would show up soon; it looked like Jack was on the verge exploding.

She picked up the stack of inventory reports Jack had brought her, then thumped them down on the table, straightening the pile of papers.

“Jack,” she started as the door swung open. Vince came in and plopped into a chair at the table. He hadn’t shaved in a day or two, and he wore a battered t-shirt, jeans, mismatched socks, and sneakers that had seen better times. Vince’s appearance was another sore point with Jack, who believed those in power should set an example for those they led.

“Good morning, guys,” Vince said cheerfully, ignoring Jack’s glares. “Sorry I’m late. I had a busy night.”

“So did we,” Jack pointed out. “Rebecca died in childbirth last night.”

Vince’s cheerful expression crumbled. “God, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you call me?”

“We did,” Laura said. “You didn’t answer your radio.”

Vince shifted in his seat. “Oh yeah, I had to leave it behind. I was doing some work up on the roof.”

“I was on the roof this morning, Vince,” Jack said. “You weren’t there.”

“No. I turned in around three or so.”

“What were you doing up there, Vince?” Laura asked, heading off an outburst from Jack.

“Brainstorming.” Vince smiled.

For a second, Laura thought he meant brainstorming for one of his novels. Although he had worked as everything from a dishwasher and taxi driver to a bookstore owner and photojournalist, Vince was primarily a horror writer, with the mindset and attitude of an artist. If he started talking about his writing, that would set Jack off like nothing else.

“I think I’ve come up with a way to solve our supply and escape woes,” Vince added.

Laura relaxed a bit. She really hadn’t felt up to playing her usual role as levelheaded mediator between Jack and Vince. Without her intervention she often thought the hospital would either become a pseudo-military dictatorship or fall apart completely from neglect.

Jack still seemed dead set on making her job difficult this morning. “Do tell,” he said sarcastically.

Jack was a hardheaded son of a bitch any way you looked at him. Before the dead rose and claimed the world he’d been the foreman of a construction crew contracted to remodel the hospital. He wasn’t a fool—the man held degrees in engineering and architecture. He was just too accustomed to being in charge. He’d grown up in a military family, so structure and discipline were almost holy to him. It was as if he saw himself as the group’s commander in chief. And at times he felt his way was the only way.

“Well, my plan’s pretty simple really,” Vince said. “The hospital has a helipad right?”

Laura sighed. “Vince, there’s no way we can get our hands on a helicopter, much less one large enough to move all of us and the supplies we’d need.”

“That’s it?” Jack asked Vince. “You were up there most of the night without your damn radio and all you came up with is the fact that we have a helipad?”

“Whoa, settle down, big guy,” Vince said, laughing. “We all agreed that we couldn’t reach the airport to get a helicopter, that’s true, but I was going over the maps of the city again and did you know the WKT station is only a couple of miles from here? You can’t see it with the binoculars, but I borrowed Chris’s telescope. The station’s got a copter sitting on its roof.”

Laura shook her head. “It’s too small for what you’re thinking, Vince. At best, it’d hold four people with minimal gear.”

“Yes, we couldn’t use it to escape as group, but we…” Vince saw that he had lost their attention. “Just hear me out, okay?”

Laura motioned for Jack to stay quiet for a moment.

“We send a small strike team to fetch the bird, but we don’t use it to escape. Once we have it, we’ll have a viable means of traveling around the city. Do you know how many other hospitals and buildings have helipads? A damn lot of them do. So we use it to reach those buildings, loot their supplies, or even fly out and land in less populated areas of the city to make ground raids. Sure, some of us will have to risk our asses to do it, but it’s a damn sight better than risking the whole group trying to make it out of here on the ground.

“And here’s the beautiful part: not only would food no longer be an immediate problem, but some of the buildings I’m talking about have fuel depots for birds like the one we’d be using. We’d also have a way to reach the airport and steal us a larger bird if we really needed to get out of here.”

“It’s risky, Vince,” Laura said. “There are so many things that could go wrong every time our raiding parties took the helicopter out, and dozens of ways we could lose the helicopter after we’ve got it… if we can even get it. One failed raid and we could be right back where we started with nothing to show for it except some of us being dead.”

“A strike team?” Jack laughed. “Just who the hell out of our little group fits that description? None of us have any military training. Hell, half of the folks here have barely even used a gun more than once or twice in their lives, and those times were in desperation after the plague hit.”

“Actually, Jack, I thought we’d go. Me, you, Mitchell, and Chris. And Daniel, of course. He’s the only one who knows how to fly a bird.”

“You’d take three of our strongest people and our only engineer on this fool’s errand? You’d actually leave Laura here with no one left to head things up if the hospital had to be defended?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Jack, we all have ‘basic experience’ or we wouldn’t be alive, would we?”

“Vince,” Laura said, “what you’re suggesting might work if the creatures outside were like the ones in the movies, but they’re not. Those things out there move like us. They’re fast and there are thousands of them. There’s no way a team could fight its way through them to the station.”

“You’re right, but they could leapfrog to it,” Vince said with a grin.

“Leapfrog?” Jack muttered under his breath.

“All we’d have to do is jury-rig some grappling gear. We could hop from one rooftop to another all the way to the station. How many creatures have you seen on the roofs? Not many. Only a handful of the things ever wander that high, and most of them either fall off or leave when they find that the roofs are empty. Chris used to be a professional mountain climber. With his help, it’ll be easy.”

“Chris’s wife just died last night,” Laura reminded Vince coldly. “He has a daughter to think of now. Even if he wasn’t an emotional wreck, I’m not sure he’d agree to be a part of your plan.”

“Leapfrog?” Jack repeated, laughing aloud this time. “Holy shit, you are crazy. This isn’t the fucking Matrix or something. We’re not superheroes. Going from roof to roof would be nearly as suicidal as facing the creatures head on.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Vince asked.

“Making a break for it with the damn cars locked up in the garage seems like a better idea than that,” Jack said. “And we all know there’s way too many of those things out there to make it, even if we armored the vehicles and wasted all our firepower trying.”

“I’m sorry Vince,” Laura said, hoping to cut Jack short. “Everything you’re suggesting is just too risky. Let’s drop it and move on, okay?”

Vince shrugged and gave up. He knew if Laura sided with Jack it was pointless to continue, even if he was right. That’s one of the things Laura liked about Vince. Though occasionally temperamental, he was generally laid back and didn’t care how things got done as long as they did get done.

She turned to Jack. “According to these reports, we have nearly four weeks of food and water left, right?”

Jack nodded.

“Then that gives us some time. Maybe we can come up with some other options…. One other thing from your lists that concerns me is the lack of weapons and ammo. If it does come down to a plan like Vince’s, Jack, can we realistically equip a team to send out and still have enough firepower here, should something happen?”

“Honestly, no. Even without splitting the weapons, if the dead found a way up to us right now we wouldn’t have enough here to make a real stand… but I don’t think that’s going to happen, or it would have already.”

“Point taken,” Laura said and leaned back in her chair.

“So then what the hell do we do?” Vince asked.

They all sat in silence.

Two floors above the informal tribunal meeting, Daniel had returned to his obsessive work in what he considered his own field. Though he had actually been a pilot before the plague, he’d also been a HAM radio fanatic and was the closest thing the group had to a communications expert. Since his first days in the hospital he’d been trying to reach other survivors using the radio equipment he’d found in the building. His efforts weren’t entirely futile. More than once he’d made contact with another group or person still alive in the world outside, even a few in the city itself. But they were always cut off from the hospital by either the dead or a lack of transport. The other survivors might as well have been on the moon.

The part that really depressed Daniel was that he never managed to stay in contact with any of them. They simply disappeared from the airwaves as if they had never been there at all. He told himself those poor souls had just ran out of power to broadcast or that they’d been rescued.

Daniel had boosted his signal as much as he could. His range was huge for the equipment he had available, but he still wished for more. He told himself that if he just kept trying, one day he would reach a group capable of coming to the hospital’s aid. He’d spent the last few days scanning the civilian bands, so today he switched back to the military channels.

His only radio contact with a military unit had been scary as hell. The soldiers demanded his location as if they intended to raid the hospital rather than come to their rescue. They hadn’t said that outright, but Daniel could read voices. They were his passion. Hell, for all he knew they’d already tried to reach the hospital and had been consumed in the attempt by the dead. He’d certainly never heard from them again. He never even told the others about them, and they were the one party he never tried very hard to reestablish contact with after they went missing.

Still, he was desperate. He hadn’t reached anyone in a long time, and he wanted, maybe even needed, to hear the voice of someone outside of the group. He needed to know they weren’t the only ones left.

Daniel made some additional adjustments on his gear, then sent out his usual message. “This is Saint Joseph Hospital calling anyone who can hear us. Please respond?” Daniel leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his unkempt blond hair. He nearly toppled over when the radio crackled with a reply.

“This is Installation Phoenix. I copy you, Saint Joseph. It’s good to hear another voice.”

Daniel rocked forward, grabbing the control console to answer his new friend.

“You have no idea how good,” he said, and then he laughed over the airwaves.

Alyson raised her head and looked down at Mitchell. A smile stretched across her lips as the bed sheets shifted over her naked, sweat-drenched body. “Was it good for you?” she said with a chuckle.

Mitchell ran his hand through her short, wet red hair. “You know it was. But I’ve got to get back to work. I’m on sentry duty, honey. Jack would tear me a new one if he knew I was here.”

Alyson rolled off him, her sweetness suddenly gone. “Just don’t forget to pay up on your way out,” she told him, stretching out on her back and closing her eyes.

Mitchell got out of bed and got dressed. He placed the packet of drugs on her nightstand and turned to glance at her a final time before he headed out the door. “Alyson…”

“Shut up, Mitchell. You know why I do it. I don’t need another lecture.”

Defeated before he began, he slammed the door behind him. Alyson sighed. Men were fools, all of them. Give them a good time and sooner or later they all started to fall in love with you. Fuck him. If she wanted to spend her last days as messed up as she could be, that was her choice. If she overdosed, then the end would be here that much quicker and she would be out of this hellhole. She wouldn’t have to wait for the creatures to find a way in and rip her apart; she wouldn’t starve to death like the rest of the assholes in the hospital.

Only Laura, Jack, and the medical staff had access to the hospital’s stash of pharmaceuticals, and if fucking people like Mitchell—who could get the keys from Jack every once in a while—got her the shit she needed, hell, it was only sex right? She wished she was brave enough to steal a gun or get one from Mitchell, brave enough to stick it in her mouth and pull the trigger. The drugs made her feel good though, and they weren’t anywhere near as messy. She knew that, given time, the drugs would do the job, and she was content on most days. With thoughts of slow suicide floating in her head, Alyson fell asleep in the darkened room.

“Vince, let it go,” Laura said, fighting the urge to give up and storm out of the room. Somehow the meeting had spiraled out of her control and had turned into a schoolyard spat as Vince and Jack resurrected one of their long running arguments.

“Laura, I know Jack and Mitchell are close, but come on! The guy’s a freakin’ murderer. I just don’t feel comfortable with him having access to so many key areas, much less the damn arsenal he has locked up in his quarters. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. The guy gives me the creeps.”

“Mitchell paid for his crimes,” Jack argued. “When I hired him he was already out on parole. He’s saved my ass more than once since I met him. I trust the man with my life, and he’s been instrumental with helping me keep things straight around this place.”

“Face it, Jack, he’s your muscle. A thug who’d put us all to the wall and blow our brains out if you told him to. God knows what he does when you’re not out there with him.”

Suddenly the door to the conference room burst open. Jack’s instincts kicked in and he drew his sidearm, barely stopping himself from putting a bullet through Daniel’s face.

Daniel stood in the doorway, wide-eyed and out of breath, staring at Jack’s gun. “Sorry,” he said, holding up a hand as if to block a bullet. “I… I just made contact with someone who can help us.”

Laura fell into her chair. “What? Who?”

“His name is Martin Kier. He’s military, holed up in some kind of huge bunker about a hundred miles south of the city.”

“Jeez, a hundred miles.” Vince whistled.

“How many in his group?” Jack asked, getting right to business.

“Just him. He’s the only one left alive there.”

“One man? A hundred miles away? How can he help us?” Laura was confused, but she knew there must be some reason for Daniel’s excitement or he wouldn’t have butted in on the meeting. He seldom left the radio room.

Daniel caught his breath and pulled up a chair at the table. “According to Martin, he’s the sole survivor of the base, yes, but the compound was built to house a couple of hundred people: scientists, military, high ranking officials. It’s essentially a giant underground fallout shelter, but it was being used as a research lab before the plague hit. There was a staff in place, working on various projects when the dead virus—or whatever you want to call—broke out. The base closed itself off automatically, trapping them all inside.

“Unfortunately, the virus had already breached the compound, despite its safety protocols. A war like the one in the city was fought down there, inside the complex. Unlike the military up here, they won. It was costly, but they did win. The virus mutated, though, and became airborne or something. I didn’t really understand all of what Martin was saying. It was a bit over my head. He made it through it all though. Now he’s just sitting around with years of stockpiled supplies: food, meds, weapons, even fuel!”

“Still, I don’t see how that helps us,” Jack interjected.

“I’m getting to that part. Martin is a pilot and it’s a military base. There are two helicopters there, both of them for military transport. He could easily reach the hospital by air and either bring us some of the stockpiles or take a few of us at a time to the base. It’s just a matter of deciding what we want him to do.”

“You’ve asked him about all this?” Laura asked, unwilling to accept that such a miracle could simply fall into their laps.

Daniel calmed down a bit. “Well, no. I haven’t asked him to fly us to the base, but he offered to bring the supplies we need without any prompting on my part.”

Vince placed his hands on the table. “That seems odd. If he’s willing to share all this stuff, wouldn’t it be easier to move us there rather than have him haul it all out here? Could he even realistically make that many trips? And why waste so much if he just brings part of it and decides to stay here when he lands on the roof?”

“I don’t know,” Daniel admitted, “but I trust him. I could hear the sincerity in his voice. He has to be lonely out there. I would be. Maybe all the stuff that happened down there is haunting him and he just wants out of the place.”

Laura nodded. “Okay, Daniel. If you trust him so much from one conversation, I’ll buy into his desire to help us, but how do we handle this?” She looked to Jack and Vince for their input.

“Have him fly over a run of supplies,” Vince replied. “It couldn’t hurt if he’s truly alone. There are nearly fifty of us. Numbers will be on our side even if he’s lying. Hell, a transport full of soldiers is something we could handle as long as we know when they’re coming. And if he’s telling the truth, we get the stuff we need and we get to meet him face-to-face and check him out for real. Then we can decide what to do from there.”

Jack nodded, agreeing with Vince. For once, the hippy had a well thought-out and sane suggestion.

“We’re agreed then,” Laura said. “ Daniel, go invite our new friend over for a visit. Jack, I want you and Mitchell to prepare for any of the darker things that could come from this.”

“We’ve got one surface-to-air missile left from the armory raid before the hospital was completely surrounded,” Jack informed her. “It’ll do just great if things go south.”

“What about me?” Vince asked. “Don’t I get a part in this?”

“Yes, Vince, you do. I want you to make a list of the order we’ll leave in if this Martin is for real and we opt to move to his base. Decide who’s best suited to make the trip first, and who needs to stay here until everyone else is safely there.”

“That’s it?”

“No. I want you to inform everybody as soon as possible. Not everyone may want to leave the hospital, and you’ll need to know who wants to stay. You can also prepare people for what’s coming, good or bad.” Laura stood up. “Well people, let’s get to it.”

Chris sat rocking Natalie, an empty bottle of formula below his chair. She cooed, gazing up at him with her beautiful green eyes, so much like her mother’s. Chris wrapped her blanket tighter around her tiny body as his mind raced with Vince’s news. He couldn’t believe it. Salvation had come to them out of the darkness. Hope was with them after all.

The base had to be huge. Full of tunnels and open spaces, protected by thick metal walls, concrete, and the earth itself. No more fear that the dead would find a way in. Natalie would be safe. She could grow up without living in fear. She would have places to play, big spaces where he could let her run alone. For years to come she would have a life more normal than he could have dared to hope for. When Vince asked if he and Natalie would be willing to go, Chris hadn’t hesitated in the slightest.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered to Natalie as she fell asleep in his arms; for the first time in a long while, he meant it. He only wished Rebecca had lived long enough to see her daughter enjoy a better life.

Night fell over the city, embracing the hospital in its darkness. Thousands upon thousands of zombies surrounded the building, wandering mindlessly and biding their time, waiting for their prey to emerge.

According to Vince’s poll, not a single person—other than Alyson—refused to gamble on the new home that fate had offered them. Jack couldn’t blame them for risking it all. In the hospital you could see the dead if you bothered to look out, and you could hear their hungry voices calling up to you. Sometimes it seemed that the dead were using a form of psychological warfare against them, though Jack knew it was impossible. The creatures were just drawn to this place because they could sense the warm blood and flesh entombed in its walls. Entombed, he thought. It was such a perfect word to describe their situation. All of them, including him, were dead in the long run. They just hadn’t fallen down yet.

After helping Jack prepare for the guest—or guests?—who would arrive in the morning, Mitchell returned to Alyson’s quarters. She lay naked and uncovered on the bed, so drugged up she wasn’t even aware of his presence, her eyes distant, her mind drifting somewhere far away. He considered taking her just because he could. If she remembered later when she came to, he could always pay her, but in the end Mitchell dismissed the idea. He stood at her window, listening to the moans of the dead below. Their cries seemed louder tonight, more desperate.

On the bed, Alyson rolled over onto her stomach. Mitchell turned and took in her naked form, lusting after her despite the session they’d shared this morning. Physical release distracted him and kept him sane—if anyone in the place could be called sane. It was his escape, his drug. Alyson’s red hair was the fire that cleansed his soul.

He loosened his belt and walked toward the bed. For a while he would join Alyson in heaven. It would help pass the time until dawn.

Two

As the sun rose from behind the distant mountains, Daniel waited on the hospital roof, smoking one of the last few cigarettes to cope with the excitement and stress. Laura and Vince stood by his side, flanked by Jack, Mitchell, and two of Jack’s hospital guards. The men all held assault rifles, except for Jack, who shouldered their sole missile launcher, ready to fire the instant anything went wrong.

They heard the helicopter before they saw it, the roar of the engine drowning out the soft, distant noise of the dead below.

Daniel had brought a portable radio. He switched it on. “He’s coming,” he said to Laura, stating the obvious as the small helicopter made its way toward the hospital.

Vince watched it through a pair of binoculars. Jack studied it through the missile launcher’s sight.

“He’s alone!” Jack barked over the whump-whump-whump of the helicopter’s blades. “Or looks to be.”

Daniel’s radio awoke in his grasp. “Joseph Hospital, this is Martin Kier approaching your position. Do I have permission to touch down?”

Laura nodded at Daniel, then motioned for the others to stand down and clear the space for the bird to land safely. She thanked God that Vince persuaded everyone else to stay inside. The excitement over Martin’s arrival had reached a fever pitch. If it hadn’t been for Vince’s convincing nature the whole group of survivors might have been on the roof. It was chaotic enough with just the small group she had.

The helicopter landed and its engine shut down. The man who called himself Martin Kier took off his flight helmet. He stared at them for a second, appraising them through his thick, dark glasses before stepping out of the helicopter. Martin wore green military fatigues, and he never removed the heavily tinted glasses as he came to greet them. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, well built and of average height. His midnight-black hair grew slightly longer than the mandatory military cut. The man moved with feline grace as he offered his hand to Jack. “Hello.”

Jack didn’t take Martin’s hand. “You can call me Jack. The lady in the lab coat is Dr. Laura Smith. We’re the leaders of this group. That chain-smoker over there with the radio is Daniel.”

“Whoa.” Vince shook Martin’s hand and introduced himself. “I’m one of the people in charge here too. We’re damn glad to see you. Sorry about Jack. Being a rude, hard-ass is his reason for living.”

Martin smiled, or attempted to. The expression looked awkward and out of place on his lips. “I brought the food and gear you requested.”

Vince waved at the helicopter dismissively. “Don’t worry about that now. Good old Mitchell and the guys can unload it. I bet you’re tired from your flight, and we have a hell of a lot to talk about. Let’s go inside and get you a drink.” Half joking, he added, “You brought coffee, right?”

Mitchell and Jack’s men unloaded the supplies as Martin followed the others into the stairwell. Daniel tossed aside the cigarette he was smoking and stayed behind to scope out the helicopter, get a feel for the controls. He wanted to be ready in case something happened and he needed to fly it.

Glancing around the cockpit, Daniel saw the standard controls of a military bird. He’d only flown traffic copters before the plague, but the difference didn’t look too drastic.

Vince led Martin and the others down what was usually the quickest route to the conference room, but the hallways were clogged with refugees. They all wanted to see the man who had restored their hope. Vince hurried past them as quickly as he could, dragging the others with him as if by sheer force of will. With each person they passed Martin’s muscles tensed underneath his clothes, as if he expected the group to attack. Vince kept glancing at the twin side arms strapped to Martin’s hips, praying no one spooked the stranger enough to make those weapons leave their holsters.

On the trip down, Martin only paused once to really take in the people and the surroundings. It was when Chris, carrying his daughter Natalie, nearly bumped into them outside the conference room. Martin’s eyes went straight to Natalie and stayed on her as if he didn’t register Chris’s presence.

Finally, he looked up at Chris. “Is the child yours?” Martin asked, awed.

Chris nodded, unsure of how to respond.

Martin’s eyes drifted back to Natalie. “You must be very proud.”

Before Chris could reply, Vince shoved Martin into the conference room. “You can meet folks later, Martin. We really need to talk right now, okay?”

Martin glanced at Vince and saw the man’s fear naked on his face. “Yes, you’re right,” Martin agreed.

Vince closed the door behind Jack and Laura as they entered.

After he finished familiarizing himself with the helicopter, Daniel caught up to the group outside of the conference room. Martin could hear him talking with Chris in the hall, but he took a seat at the table anyway. Laura sat at the head of the table, facing Martin, and Vince and Jack sat on either side of him.

“So you made it, Mr. Kier,” Laura began. “There were those among us who thought you wouldn’t show, or that if you did you’d only bring death and trouble with you. It seems they might have been wrong.”

Out in the hall, Chris clutched Natalie close to him. “Did you see the way he watched my daughter? It wasn’t right.”

Daniel said, “Come on, Chris, he’s military. He may be one of those guys who are freaked out by kids. No offense, but I am too.” He laughed.

“No. It was more than that. He looked at Natalie like she was some kind of alien.”

Daniel put a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “Everything’s going to be okay, Chris. He kept his word and came alone just like he said he would. I think he’s been alone for a long time, as long as we’ve been cooped up in this hospital. Solitude will do that to a person. It can affect people in a lot of ways. He’s been through as much, if not more, than we have. He was just happy to see breathing people again, I’m sure.”

Chris shook his head. Cradling Natalie in his arms he walked off, leaving Daniel to frown after him.

Martin met Laura’s eyes across the table. “I brought only what you asked,” he said, then changed the subject. “You have children here. This place is not safe.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.” Vince’s joke hung in the air like the stink of sour meat. No one laughed.

“It’s been safe enough so far,” Jack informed Martin coldly. “We’re all supposed to be friends here. Why don’t you put your weapons on the table, Mr. Kier.”

Laura blinked at the gall of Jack’s request. To her surprise, Martin unsnapped his belt, placed the weapons on the tabletop and slid them toward Jack, who took them eagerly.

“Mr. Jack, isn’t it?” Martin asked. “If I wanted to harm you, you’d be dead by now. Having me relinquish my weapons does nothing to change that fact, though I am willing to do so if it will put you more at ease.”

“Were there children in the base you’re from, Mr. Kier?” Laura asked before Jack had a chance to defend his manly pride.

“No. I had never seen a child before until just a few moments ago. Today is a day of new experiences for me.”

“What about your family?” Laura asked. “Were they killed by the virus?”

“Yes. My fathers all perished from the disease.”

“Fathers?” Vince asked.

“The men who gave me life,” Martin said, a quizzical look on his face, as if he had said nothing peculiar.

The room fell silent. Jack wondered if Martin was insane, but both Vince and Laura caught what Martin meant, or were able to guess at it.

“They were doctors?” Laura proceeded cautiously, hoping she was wrong.

“Scientists.” Martin’s face was impossible to read..

“Do you mind if I ask how old you are, Martin?” Laura was on the edge of her seat with nervous energy.

“I am slightly over thirteen months old.” Martin attempted a friendly smile to assure her that he was not offended by such an odd question.

“Jeez.” Vince shook his head.

Jack stood up. “Thank you very much, Mr. Kier. I think that’ll be all for now. If you’ll just wait outside, we need to discuss some things privately before we continue.”

Laura said, “Sit down, Jack. Now.”

He hesitated, considered disobeying her order. Finally he took his seat.

“Martin,” Laura said, “you were one of the projects at the base, weren’t you? It’s how you survived whatever happened there, isn’t it?”

Martin felt both relieved and worried that his attempt to pass for a normal person had failed. “Yes, Ma’am. My first name was X2114, but I named myself Martin Kier after two of my fathers who died. I was created as an experiment in human genetics. It was an attempt both military and scientific in nature. Though I may be different from you and immune to the dead virus, please understand that I am human. My fathers told me so.”

“Martin,” Laura began, but this time Jack put her in her place.

“Oh for God’s sake!” He slapped the table. “This is insane! And you’re full of shit! Who in the hell are you? I want to know: were you really living in that base, or did you just break in after everyone was dead and set yourself up as a king? Were there some people left? Did you kill them off yourself so that everything would be yours? Is that how it went down?”

“I have told you the truth.” Martin’s face was stone. Laura and Vince could see him struggling against what must have been an implanted urge to defend himself from Jack. At that moment, Laura knew Martin meant what he claimed: he was human—or he wanted to be. If he was just a weapon the military had created, Jack would have been long dead..

Laura tried to warn Jack, but he whirled on her and Vince. He couldn’t believe they were buying this horseshit. Without another word, he stormed out of the conference room.

“I’m sorry,” Laura said, shrugging her shoulders. “Jack isn’t always like that, I swear. Some things are hard for him to accept.”

“His response was what I had expected from all of you. I must confess, I didn’t think you would find me out so soon.”

“Martin,” Vince said, “what were you created for?”

“I was created as a weapon. The military took over the project not long after it began. I was originally supposed to be the first cloned human being, but the military made sure I was much more.”

“Then why didn’t you react like a weapon when Jack threatened you?” Laura wondered. “Surely you were designed to defend yourself with lethal force. I can’t see the military settling for anything less.”

“The project may have been taken over by the military, but it was originally civilian in nature. My fathers taught me about humanity even as the military tested and honed my offensive capabilities. I believe my fathers hoped what they were teaching me would make me useless to the army and allow them to continue with the project without the army’s interference.”

“Okay,” Vince said, dragging out the word. “I don’t suppose it matters much now. You’re here and you’re not like the flesh-eating monsters outside, so I guess that makes us allies.”

“Where do we go from here?” Laura asked them both.

“Daniel expressed to me your desire to leave this hospital, but it may not be wise for you to travel to my base. It was infected with a mutated strain of the dead virus, and despite the base’s automated safety measures and my personal efforts, I cannot promise that you wouldn’t be exposed to the new airborne pathogen.”

“We have to try something, Martin,” Laura argued. “We can’t stay here forever, even if you continued to bring us supplies. The people here are coming apart at the seams. It’s not just about surviving anymore. It’s about starting over. And I don’t think the virus has mutated in the way you believe it has. If it had, you would’ve carried it here with you, I’m sure. Its gestation period is usually only a matter of minutes, not hours.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I can’t be, but none of us have changed since you came and that’s a good sign. I just believe it’s unlikely. If everyone here remains uninfected by the time we’re ready to send the first few members back with you, then we at least know the virus wasn’t altered enough for you to carry it here. The first group that goes can check out the base and make sure it’s safe before we transport the others.”

“What about Jack?” Martin asked.

“Jack will come around in time,” Vince assured him.

Laura shook her head. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. Not until he sees proof that you are what you say you are, Martin. Just try to stay out of his way until then.”

“And the others here?” Martin asked.

Vince laughed. “I’ll introduce you around while Laura and I decide who your first passengers will be. Don’t worry. Jack’s Jack, and most people aren’t like him.”

“Thank you,” Martin Kier said, nodding. He hoped Vince was right. He’d come to help this group of fellow survivors, not kill them in self-defense. Perhaps what disturbed Martin the most was that, after seeing the child, he was not sure he could bring himself to execute them, even if they chose to eliminate him first.

Mitchell headed down the corridor to Alyson’s quarters, tired from unloading the supplies and pissed that he always got stuck with the grunt work. As much as he needed Alyson at the moment to take away the stress, he nearly went back the way he had come when he saw Jack marching toward him. He could feel Jack’s anger like it was a physical force. He stopped dead in his tracks, clutching his fists just in case.

Jack walked right up into his face and looked him dead in the eyes. “Get the guns. It’s time.”

Mitchell’s mouth dropped open. He’d always known Jack walked a thin line with the other members on the tribunal and had hoped one day Jack would take command of the hospital by force. He never thought it would happen though; it would start a civil war, and Jack wanted the group to survive more than anything. It was the driving purpose, perhaps the only purpose, in his life.

“Jack, are you sure about this?”

Jack grabbed Mitchell and flung him against the wall of the corridor. “Get the damn weapons! Get the others too. Laura has gone too far this time. I can’t sit by and watch her take us all to hell.”

Mitchell forgot about Alyson. He could get off later after things were put right. He darted down the passageway back the way he’d come.

Jack smiled after him. Maybe today, he thought. Maybe today is going to be a good day after all.

As Jack set his plan for a coup in motion, Vince called a meeting in the hospital’s cafeteria. His voice echoed over the intercom throughout the building, urging everyone to attend and meet their new guest. Vince wasn’t worried about low attendance. Even the dejected like Alyson and Chris were curious about Martin and the new sense of hope his presence had bought. In fact, Alyson was the first to arrive in the cafeteria where Martin and Vince waited.

Out of habit, Martin stood at attention beside Vince, who’d plopped into one of the chairs. Alyson approached them and smiled at Martin. “Hello, stranger,” she purred, flicking her long red hair out of her face with a slight shake of her head.

“Hello,” Martin answered. A good number of the base’s staff had been female, but none of them had ever acted in such a fashion toward him. He realized her movements were designed to initiate mating, but he could neither explain nor understand the feeling inside of him as she drew closer to kiss him on the cheek.

“Back off, Alyson,” Vince said. “Martin isn’t human.” He saw the hurt in Martin’s eyes and immediately cursed himself for being so tactless.

“What?” Alyson squeaked, retreating a few steps.

Vince hated his poor choice of words even more. “That’s not what I meant,” he said, trying to explain himself to both of them at once. “Martin’s a person just like us. I just meant give him some space, okay?”

“A person like us?” Alyson asked. “What in the hell is that supposed to mean? Why would you say shit like that?”

“I am a bio-genetically engineered weapon capable of evolution and independent thought,” Martin explained.

“Oh,” Alyson gasped. Neither Vince nor Martin could tell if she believed him, but she did seem calmer and she continued to look Martin over. “I’d let you be one for me.”

More people started pouring into the room, and Martin locked onto Chris and his newborn daughter as they entered. “I came here to help,” he announced to the crowd.

Vince grabbed his arm. “Wait. Wait until everyone’s settled and then explain. That way you only have to do it once. It’s easier, trust me.” Vince stood up, putting a hand on Martin’s back, and Martin deferred to his wisdom.

After Laura had left the conference room, she’d returned to her quarters. She had faith that Vince could introduce Martin and convince the group that he wasn’t a threat. Jack’s reaction had upset her, but there was nothing she could do except give him time to calm down. In his current state, she knew reasoning with him would be out of the question, it would only make matters worse. Anyway, she had more important matters to deal with. She could feel another attack coming on, and she wanted to make sure she was alone when it hit.

She took off her lab coat, slumped onto the edge of her mattress and rolled up her sleeve. When she finished, she opened the drawer of the small desk beside the bed. Inside was her private mini-pharmacy from the hospital’s stores. Unlike Alyson, about whom she’d heard rumors, none of her stash was narcotic in nature. It was composed entirely of treatments for her cancer and its symptoms.

She measured out a dose into a syringe and shot up, praying the treatment would stem off the attack. Exhausted both physically and emotionally, she reclined on the bed and closed her eyes, wishing she could bring herself to dream of a better tomorrow.

Vince waited as long as he felt comfortable for the group to gather in the cafeteria. Almost everyone was there and settled in by now. Only Laura, Jack, and a few of the man’s cronies were absent.

When the room finally grew quiet, Vince spoke. “As you all know, the man beside me is Martin Kier. He’s the person we made radio contact with recently. And yes, his story is real. He arrived this morning by helicopter and brought us a delivery of supplies from the military installation he’s been surviving in since the plague started.”

Murmurs of excitement rippled through the crowd.

“There are a few things you need to know. The base may not be a viable spot for us to relocate to. We are making plans to send a small task force to ensure it will be safe for all of us.” Vince could see the hope dying in the crowd. “Please, don’t be discouraged. It’s just a precautionary measure, nothing more. We have every reason to believe the base will be suitable for our needs.”

Voices erupted from the crowd. Who goes first? How will we know the base is safe? How soon does the task force leave?

Vince struggled to regain control. “Four people including the doctor will go with Martin on his way home. They’ll stay in complete and constant radio contact with us, and we should know if the base is all right in a matter of days. As to when they will be leaving, that hasn’t been established yet. We need a bit more time to prepare.”

“What is it we should know about Martin?” Chris asked, his tone so hostile and unforgiving it cut clearly through the others. If he was supposed to trust this stranger with his daughter’s life, he damned sure wanted to know everything about him. Especially with the way the man had stared at her when they’d first met.

Vince didn’t want to answer Chris’s question, considering the way the informal meeting was headed. Disclosing the problems with Martin’s installation had changed the mood of the crowd from hope to something approaching heartbreak and anger. But Vince knew he had little choice now. Chris had put him on the spot, and there was no way to back out.

He shot Martin a troubled glance, but the man—or whatever he was—was too new to such subtle human warnings to catch it.

Martin stepped forward boldly, looking out into the sea of faces. “My name is Martin Kier. I have come to help you in any way that I can. However, you should know I am not human in the normal use of the word.”

A new wave of murmurs ran through the gathering, and everyone looked to Vince to see his reaction. He nodded, and shouts filled the room, ranging in tone from anger to utter confusion.

“Wait!” Vince yelled. “Wait! Just hear him out, okay? He’s not crazy.”

“No,” Martin said as the room fell quiet. “I am a biogenetically-created weapon, created by your own government in secret. I am the prototype for what was to be a new breed of soldier, which would end the need for this country’s men and women to die in battle. I have survived the undead nightmare we live in just as you have, though I was left alone. Everyone from my creators to my guards perished. Until your Daniel contacted me, I believed the human race to be extinct. I was made to serve you, and now I can do my duty. I will see you all safely from this place, this I swear.”

At that precise moment, the doorway to the cafeteria crashed open, and Jack, Mitchell and their small band of cronies entered. All of them were armed. “Cut the shit, Mr. Kier,” Jack said. “Don’t believe a word he says. He’s either insane, or worse, the first of a military assault on this building.”

“Jack…” Vince held up a hand and tried to reason with him, but Jack hit him in the face with a loaded revolver. The blow knocked Vince to the floor.

“That’ll be quite enough from you today, Vince. You and Laura may buy into his crap, but not me. I’m not going to stand by and let him destroy everything we’ve worked for.”

Martin seemed to vanish. One second he was standing beside Vince, the next he was twisting Jack’s arm behind his back. The gun clattered from Jack’s grasp and his arm snapped as Martin turned him like a shield toward Mitchell and the others. Jack cried out until Martin slapped a palm over his mouth.

“Stop this madness!” Martin shouted. “I have no wish to harm any of you, but I will if you force my hand.”

Mitchell blinked, trying to process what had just happened. He motioned to the rest of the men to hold their fire.

Jack managed to shake off the effects of the pain. He turned his head to look at Martin, who removed his hand from Jack’s mouth.

“How did you…” Jack began.

“I am what I say I am,” Martin replied. “Do you yield?”

Jack nodded and Martin released him as Vince fought to calm everyone down. Jack’s betrayal he could deal with later; right now, he had a riot to prevent.

Hours later, Jack sat with his arm in a cast, facing Laura and Vince. His men had been disarmed and confined to their quarters.

“Where do we go from here, Jack?” Laura asked, shaking her head in disappointment.

Jack didn’t even bother to look at her. He stared off into space.

“How could you do this to us, Jack, and at such a critical time for us all?”

“Forget him, Laura,” Vince said. “We’ll confine him like the others.”

“And how do we do that?” Laura snapped. “His goon squad represents about half of the men defending this place. The other half is busy watching them, except for Daniel and Gregory. Who’s going to keep an eye on those things outside? Much less make up the team to go check out Martin’s base.”

“Take it easy, Laura.” Vince laid a hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her as she doubled over into a coughing fit. “Hey, are you okay?”

In a voice devoid of compassion, Jack said, “She needs her medicine. She’s dying of lung cancer, you idiot.”

Vince saw Laura’s surprise, as if she believed no one knew her secret; she couldn’t deny it though, couldn’t even speak she was too busy wheezing. Vince wanted to believe Jack was lying, but Laura’s shock told him otherwise. “Where is it, Jack? Where’s her medicine?”

“She keeps it hidden all over the place. Try the back of the cabinet over there.”

Vince darted to the cabinet, jerked it open and began throwing its contents onto the floor in a desperate search for the meds. He found an inhaler and helped Laura use it.

“How did you know?” she asked Jack as her breathing began to stabilize.

“I know a lot of things, Laura. For example, I know you’re going to kill us all if you don’t deal with our new guest. Even if he is what he claims to be, that just makes him more dangerous. We have to kill him now before it’s too late.”

“Vince, would you please see to it that Jack gets locked away like his men?”

Vince smiled, leveling the barrel of his .38 at Jack. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

With the help of Martin and one of the hospital’s remaining defenders, Vince escorted Jack and his goons to one of the hospital’s larger waiting rooms and locked them inside. The room made a poor makeshift jail, but at least it only had one way in and out. The guard sat in a chair facing the door, a fully loaded AK-47 in his hands.

With the matter of the prisoners settled, Vince refocused on assembling a team to escort Martin to his base in the morning, and Laura held a second meeting to restore some order and sense of peace to the hospital. Jack’s treason—and it couldn’t be called anything less—had woken everyone up to how quickly things were falling apart.

On the roof of the hospital, Alyson stood with an empty syringe at her bare feet. She had finally found her way out. Martin couldn’t save them. No one could. The world was dead and the only thing left to do was die. At least she would be going out happy. She giggled and danced as the night wind caressed her naked flesh. She could feel them already, the fingers of the dead running over her skin, the teeth of the dead taking chunks of her into their mouths. She spun on the roof’s edge like a ballerina and raised her face as rain began to fall and wash over her. The water trickled between her breasts and slid off her shapely thighs. The end, the real end, was finally here. She hoped Mitchell had found peace with it as she had, then dove off the roof, gliding like a wounded bird toward the street below.

The dead ate her splattered remains.

One of them, a woman wearing a tattered wedding dress, stood from the feast and stumbled through her brethren toward the hospital. One of her legs was broken beneath her bloodstained gown. It barely held her weight.

She looked up at the hospital, catching the scent of living flesh above. She opened her mouth to scream as the hunger burned hotter inside her, but sprayed blood and stale bile instead. The corpse woman staggered, fell to her knees and thrashed about as her body rippled and spasmed, leaving red patches upon the street until at last she lay still.

The other dead close by quit howling and turned to look at her. Her eyes sprung open once more, only now they glowed a pale blue in the darkness. Had a living human been able to see her face, they would have sworn she smiled.

The woman pushed herself up, and without a single stagger, she walked to the nearest zombie and vomited blood into his face.

Daniel sat in the hospital’s stairwell, watching the dead. His head hurt from one too many beers. He’d finished off his entire stash, but it had been worth it. It wasn’t every day he got to see an asshole like Jack get what he deserved. Sure, it had really messed things up around the place, and he was pulling watch instead of sleeping because the person who was supposed to be out here was locked up with the rest of Jack’s men, but oh well.

Daniel wished for an aspirin, which, unlike his beloved cigarettes, were nowhere near running out. The damn things were all over the place, but he couldn’t leave his post to get one.

He turned his attention back to the dead, hoping to see one of the idiots fall off the broken stairs below.

Daniel’s breath caught in his throat. His knuckles went white as he clutched his rifle.

The dead had stopped howling. They weren’t pushing and shoving each other or trying to jump across the gap in the stairs. They were all just standing there, staring at him with glaring blue eyes.

A sudden warmth filled Daniel’s jeans and trickled down his legs. “Oh hell…” he whispered and raised his rifle. As the dead saw him taking aim, they opened their mouths in unison and screeched . Daniel dropped the rifle. It fell, spinning toward the ground floor below as he jumped to his feet and raced up the stairs.

Vince, who had been coming to check on him, was nearly smashed in the face by the stairwell door as Daniel came bursting out.

Seeing how freaked out Daniel was, Vince grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him into the wall. “Are they on their way up? Answer me, damn it!”

Daniel shook his head wildly and managed to stutter the word “No.”

Relief washed over Vince. “Then what the hell is wrong?”

“The dead are fucked up, man! They’re just really fucked up.”

Daniel broke free and darted off without looking back.

Vince turned to the stairwell door and knew he had to go down there, had to see. He drew his .38 and checked the chamber. Pistol in hand, he entered the stairwell.

It hit him then, sinking in, that the dead were silent. He stepped onto the stairs and peered over the railing into a sea of cold blue eyes. The dead stood motionless, as if they were all locked in some sort of waking dream.

Vince carefully backed into the hall and then broke into a run. Laura had to see this. Maybe she’d know what was going on; he sure as hell didn’t.

Daniel had run all the way back to the makeshift communications room.

In an effort to stop shaking, to take his mind off those dead blue eyes, he switched on the radio and listened to R.E.M.’s “What’s the Frequency, Kenneth?” as he went to work trying to boost the hospital’s signal. His head bobbed to the music as his fingers danced through the wiring of his radio. A cold cup of black coffee sat at his side. He took a sip, grimacing at the bitterness and almost spit it out when the incoming signal light lit up.

He shut off the music and tried to tune in the radio, but remembered he’d just taken it apart. The light had to be a glitch, but something told him to check anyway. He opened the channel and smiled as static crackled on the airwaves. He reached again for his coffee, laughing at himself for being so foolish.

“You are ours,” said a voice on the radio, a single voice that sounded like a billion souls speaking at once. “We are coming.”

Daniel spilt his stale coffee on his lap and cursed. He had to be imagining this. The radio wasn’t working—couldn’t be working.

“We are coming,” the voice said again. “Your flesh is ours.”

Static crackled loudly as the channel closed itself.

Daniel leaned into his chair, wide-eyed and shaking, wondering if he had gone mad.

Three

Laura stood by the window as Vince and Martin watched her. “Something is certainly going on down there. I’ve never seen the dead just stop like this.”

“Really?” Vince asked sarcastically.

“I don’t understand it,” Laura said. “It goes against everything we know about their behavior.”

“What the hell do we do about it?” Vince asked. “And I swear to God, if you say some shit like ‘let’s just enjoy the silence,’ I’m going to throw you out that window.”

“It’s got to have something to do with the virus. It’s changed, mutated somehow.”

“How could it do that?” Martin wondered.

“Oh my lord,” Laura blurted. “It’s you. You and your helicopter.”

Vince stepped away from Martin, aiming his .38 at the man.

“I did nothing,” Martin said, completely unafraid of Vince and the weapon pointed at him.

“You didn’t have to. You brought the airborne strain of the virus with you. It does exist, and you’re not only a carrier of it, you’ve spread it all over the city when you flew in. The airborne strain must have altered when it encountered the original, altered itself in some way where it affects the dead rather than the living, changing them into something completely new.”

Martin nodded. “Please understand there is no way I could have known my presence here would cause this. I am sorry.”

“Laura?” Vince asked, keeping his gun trained on Martin.

“Put the gun down, Vince. What’s done is done. The only question is what’s happening to the dead. They’re changing, that’s clear, but into what?”

“We’ve got to get out of here, Laura. Staying around to find out is just asking to get our butts gnawed off.”

“Agreed, but Martin’s helicopter is the only way out. It’s not going to carry everyone.”

“I know that, damn it! Let’s just grab who and what we can and go. Right now.”

“I’m not leaving,” Martin informed them. “Your Daniel is also a pilot, I believe. Have him fly you out of here. There’s a map to the base inside the helicopter. My purpose is to save as many as I can, and I will make sure the hospital doesn’t fall until Daniel can come back for a second group of your people.”

Laura tried to argue, but Martin cut her off. “We must prepare. There is a storm coming, and even I cannot fight so many alone.”

Jack paced back and forth in the waiting room. Most of his crew slept on the couches, but Mitchell was still awake and staring out the window.

“What are you looking at?” Jack asked.

“The dead. They’re bringing ladders and rope into the building. Fucking ladders and rope.”

Jack laughed. “You’re shitting me.”

Mitchell was pale as he looked up at Jack. “I wish I were.”

The door to the waiting room opened. Martin stood in the doorway. “You may kill me now, or you can help save all those who may be saved. The choice is yours.” He tossed a shotgun into Jack’s hands and raised his arms to the sides, presenting his chest.

Jack stared at him, gritting his teeth. “You brought this, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Martin answered painfully.

“Fuck you.” Jack pumped a round into the shotgun’s chamber. “Let’s go kick some dead ass.”

Martin grinned, and twin auto-pistols like something out of science fiction appeared in his hands.

The door to the stairwell opened as the first stream of the undead poured into the halls. Martin, Jack, and Jack’s men stood in the hallway like old-fashioned minutemen. They hadn’t had time to build any sort of barricade.

As the dead raced towards them, Jack screamed the order to fire. The hallway echoed with gunshots and howls as the men tore the first wave of the dead to shreds. The hospital’s defenders held their ground for a few seconds until they were forced to reload. Martin, in an effort to buy time, charged into the ranks of the dead. His guns blazed, each shot perfect, splattering rotting brain matter everywhere.

Jack and the others held their fire as Martin tossed aside his empty weapons and dove deeper into the midst of the enemy. He bent his hands downward at the wrists, and blades shot out from beneath the sleeves of his uniform. He sliced the closest creature’s skull open with a single swipe and plunged the other blade into another monster’s face. He yanked the blade free as the thing leaked blood from between its eyes and collapsed.

Martin gave Jack the signal and dropped to the floor, rolling away from the mob. Jack’s shotgun thundered, and Mitchell opened with his AK-47 on full auto; the other men hit the dead with everything they had. The bodies piled up throughout the hallway as Martin rejoined them, but more of the dead raced to take the place of the creatures who had fallen.

“We can’t hold them forever like this!” Jack shouted. “Our ammo isn’t going to last forever.

“Fall back,” Martin ordered. “Fall back and reload.”

Not all of the dead followed them as they retreated. Many chose the easier route and headed off down the hall in the other direction.

Daniel locked himself in the communications room when the gunshots started. He frantically searched around in his pockets. “Oh God, where is it?”

He finally grasped the butt of the cigarette buried in his coat pocket and pulled it out. It was his last one, the last one he was aware of in the whole hospital. He’d been saving it for a special time, for when he really needed it. He ran it under his nose, inhaling the scent of unlit tobacco, the scent of heaven.

He dug out his lighter and flicked it, but it didn’t ignite. He flicked it again and again, pausing only to bang it against the wall desperately.

Disgusted, he threw it down along with the cigarette and slumped against the wall. Tears slid down his cheeks. His sobs were quiet at first, but soon he wept openly, alone in the darkness as he listened to the howls of the dead and the gunfire on the floor below.

Vince held tightly to Laura’s hand, almost dragging her with him as she tried to keep pace. He had already sent someone to find Daniel and get him up on the roof, but Laura insisted they find Chris and Natalie before they headed up to the helicopter. Vince had no choice but to go along with her; she wouldn’t leave without the child, and wherever they managed to escape to, they would need Laura’s skills for as long as she could fight off the cancer. Besides, given time and the proper tools Laura might one day put an end to the dead virus once and for all.

Vince wondered if she’d be able to make it the rest of the way to Chris’s quarters, but ever the fighter, Laura gasped for air and pushed on. Her strength amazed him and gave him hope.

They found Chris’s door barred. Laura struggled vainly with the knob.

“Move!” Vince screamed, and she stepped aside as he kicked open the entrance.

Chris glanced up at them as they made their way inside. He sat rocking Natalie, hugging her tightly to his chest. “Save her,” he said, crying. “Someone’s got to. She doesn’t deserve to die like this.”

“Okay, Chris. Okay.” Vince helped him to his feet. “We’re certainly going to try.”

Daniel selected a heavy wrench from his tools and tested its weight. It would have to do. Like an idiot, he had dropped his gun in the stairwell.

He cranked up the stereo, and Michael Stipe’s voice blared; the room rattled to the tune of “The Great Beyond.” It was one of Daniel’s favorite songs, and somehow it seemed to fit. The music covered the noise of the dead as they tore the door off its hinges.

Daniel adjusted his glasses and stood his ground. Two dead things rushed into the room. He swung the wrench and clobbered the first one in the head. It lurched sideways and fell with a crash into one of Daniel’s worktables. Its left eye dangled from its socket as the thing thrashed about on the floor.

The second intruder came at him too fast, and he couldn’t get a good swing at it. It grabbed him, strained against him, tried to sink its teeth into his flesh.

Daniel threw the thing off and darted for the door. He nearly collided with a third creature in the hall. He gave a quick hard kick to one of its knees, then fled, not bothering to look back as the creature toppled to the floor.

As he rounded the bend in the corridor, a voice cried out. “Daniel!” One of the hospital’s defenders, a man whose name he couldn’t remember, was running after him. Daniel skidded to a halt as the man caught up.

“We need to get you up to the roof!” the guard said. “You need to fly the helicopter!”

Shit, Daniel thought.

Vince, Harold, Laura, and any other survivors were all counting on him. Counting on him to fly a type of helicopter he’d never even sat in until today. He remembered the time he’d spent going over its controls and knew he could do it, even if just barely. It would be enough.

The guard shoved a rifle into his hands as they raced toward the roof. The weapon brought Daniel no comfort. If they encountered a large pack of the dead on their way, it wouldn’t make any difference whether or not they sent a few of the creatures back to hell. They’d be overwhelmed and that was that.

They rounded another corner and jerked open the door to the stairs that led to the roof. A decaying woman in a bloodstained wedding gown leapt out at them, slashing the guard’s throat with her long decorated nails. Blood spurted from the wound with every beat of his heart.

Daniel didn’t have time to take a shot at her, so he barreled into her, pushing her back inside the stairwell and over the railing. She hissed, still groping for him as she fell into the darkness below.

Daniel glanced back at the guard’s corpse, wishing he could remember the poor guy’s name. Then he shut the door to the stairs and sprinted up to the roof.

Most of the hospital’s defenders were dead and had switched sides in the battle. Mitchell had disappeared in the fray, leaving only Martin and Jack to hold back the dead long enough for Vince and Laura to escape.

The dead had them cornered now two floors below the roof, backed into a waiting room with no way out. Martin was fighting the creatures hand-to–hand, holding them at the door while Jack tried to reload. A purple blood-like substance oozed from numerous wounds and bites covering his body. He punched one of the things in the head, which flew off and landed on the floor to be trampled under countless feet.

Jack raised his gun and shot a creature that had made it past Martin. The blast hit it in the chest, knocking it to the other side of the room.

“It’s no use Jack!” Martin wailed as a wounded dead thing, its lower spine shattered, sank its teeth into his thigh.

“I know,” Jack whispered, letting his shotgun clatter to the floor. He pulled a bandolier of grenades from his backpack, which he had swiped from a fallen friend, and without hesitation he popped the string’s pin and ran into the swarm of undead. “See you in hell, Martin!”

The waiting room burst into a ball of flames, showering the street below with shards of glass and chunks of debris.

The building seemed to shake as Vince bounded up the last steps to the roof. He lost his footing and would have fallen over the railing had Chris not grabbed him.

“What the hell was that?” Laura asked.

“Jack,” Vince answered curtly as he shoved her ahead of him. “There isn’t going to be a trip back, Laura. I’m sure Martin did all he could, but I think we’re it. We’re the only ones who are going to make it out of here alive.”

Laura nodded sadly as they opened the door to the roof and came face to face with the barrel of a massive, cannon-like gun. Mitchell lowered it and grinned. “It’s about time someone made it up here.”

Daniel stood with him, waving at them with a trembling hand. Laura embraced him, happy to see their pilot alive.

Chris cradled Natalie in his arms and headed straight for the helicopter. “Come on! We’ve got to get out of here before the dead catch up with us!”

Vince met Mitchell with a knowing look. “You’re not going, are you?”

Mitchell shook his head. “There’s no place for someone like me left in this world.”

“I wonder if there’s a place left for any of us,” Vince agreed. He laid a hand on Mitchell’s shoulder for a moment, then darted to join the others.

Mitchell watched as the helicopter whirled to life and lifted off from the hospital’s roof, streaking away into the sky. He swiveled the machine gun on its tripod until it pointed toward the stairs, and he waited for the dead to come.