Dead Men (and Women) Walking (13 page)

Switching his attention to
the dead, Mack walked backward as fast as he could; keeping a safe
distance between them and him. His back hit the cold metal elevator
doors. Automatically his hands found the button.

“
Wasn’t meant to get
airborne,” the man said. “Everything wants to live. It evolved,
just like them. But on you, it worked. It worked beautifully.” He
shook his head slowly. “It’s a pity they’re hungry. There are many
questions you could help answer.”

The elevator pinged and the
doors swished open.

“
Stop them and I’ll give
you every answer you want.” Mack stepped into the elevator. He
stared at the man in the black suit. “Well?” He pushed the button
marked R.

“
I’m sorry. Can’t stop
hunger, never could.” He raised the gun.

One of the dead broke into a
run; it brushed past the black suited man in its haste. Almost at
the elevator, the dead man lunged at Mack, he jumped, sailed though
the air like a perfect football tackle and dived
forward.

The gun fired.

The body jerked from the
impact, and hit the floor, across the elevator’s boundary. Dark
blood, almost black overflowed his lips and rolled down his chin,
dripping to the carpet creating a small puddle near Mack’s feet.
The elevator doors tried to shut, but the corpse blocked them. They
closed against his waist and jerked open.

The rest came fast now, as
if suddenly realizing they could run. For them, the smell of his
blood or pheromones or whatever would be strong to the hungry. To
them it meant food. And dinner was trying to escape.

The elevator
pinged.

Shit!

Mack bent down and tried to
push the body out. It was incredibly heavy and the doors tried to
close a second time; striking his shoulders painfully, they jumped
open again. Fuck it! He grabbed the body by the head and pulled it
inside. The group lunged at him as the doors slid shut. This time
they locked into place.

He heard shots pound the
door; luckily, not a single bullet punched through and the elevator
slowly started to rise. His eyes went to the lighted floor numbers
above the door. Soft elevator music played in the
background.

It stopped on the
thirty-eighth floor. A few stops short of the roof. Mack moved to
the back of the elevator, and watched as the doors open. His hands
balled into fists.

Mack had gone into survival
mode. His brain switched from wanting to meet someone to help stop
the loneliness, to a fight to get away, out of the city -- meet no
one and be safe.

He had the feeling he’d just
stepped into a whole world of trouble...or the truth. Both of them
sucked.

The elevator doors slid
open.

No one stood waiting.
Instead, the opened doors revealed a glass wall, behind which was
what looked like a science lab back during his school days; Bunsen
burners, steel sinks, three rows of tables, computers on ever one
and cables connected to small cylinder objects.

The elevator doors closed.
Mack quickly pushed the door open button. He bent down grabbed the
corpse and dragged it half out of the elevator as a
doorstopper.

The elevator next to his one
was on the ninth floor and not moving. He figured it was safe to
assume they weren’t following.

He looked down the hallway
and seeing no one, he entered the lab. His ears strained for any
sound and he walked as quietly as possible. Someone or something
had pushed the elevator button. Otherwise why would it have stopped
on this floor, and none others?

The lab was cold; shivers
ran up and down his spine as he slowly walked past each table.
Computers were running formulas, thousands of numbers rolled up the
screens. One computer had frozen with a message box on the screen,
Disallowed request, it read. He moved the pointer to the OK button
and clicked it. Numbers raced up the screen, mixed with Roman and
Latin style letters. Mack had no idea what any of it
meant.

Damn it was cold in
here.

Something bumped the wall. A
short gasp followed.

He spun a hundred and eighty
degrees and his eyes fell on a small closet he hadn’t noticed
before. Slowly he approached it.

His hand fell on the cold
small knob and twisted. He pulled the door open and a broom handle
was thrust in his face. There was little strength behind the
action. He caught it inches from his left eye and yanked it free of
the hands wielding it.

He stepped back. No light
reached inside the closet. He could barely see a few white coats
and a couple of suit jackets hanging on a rack. The closet was
deeper than it appeared from the outside.

“
Whoever you are, come out.
I won’t hurt you.” He stared in the shadowed closet. He thought he
could see a shape crouched down, trying to hide. “I can see you, so
come on. Hiding there isn’t good. They are in the building
now.”

The person whimpered at that
comment.

“
I promise, I won’t hurt
you.”

The shape didn’t
move.

“
Fine. Have it your way.
I’m out of here before those dead fuckers reach this floor.” He
turned. “They’re hungry, you know?” Still no reaction. Screw it. He
headed for the door again and stopped.

Whoever it was, was just
scared. He shouldn’t be angry. Mack decided to try one more
time.

“
Last chance,” he said,
keeping his voice even.

The shape moved. “Are you
leaving this place?” a quiet voice asked.

“
Gonna try.”

The shape stood up and
stepped out of the closet. A kid stood in the light.

“
Jesus,” Mack
muttered.

“
Angie,” the girl said.
“I’m eight.”

“
I’m Mack. Do you
understand what’s happened?” The girl nodded.

“
A virus was released,” he
started.

“
Not a virus,” the girl
butted in. She shook her head. “It was a serum,” she pronounced it
Sir-Umm. “Daddy said it would help hundreds of thousands of
people.” She scrunched up her face in thought, struggling to
remember. “Daddy said it was a fountain of...something.”

Mack could see her
struggling to remember. He was about to say it didn’t matter, when
she suddenly shouted, “Youth! Fountain of youth. It keeps everybody
young forever.”

“
Fountain of Youth, huh?”
More like the fountain of the undead, he thought but did not say.
“We should go,” he said.

The girl didn’t move.
Slowly, her head tilted and she stared at the floor.

“
Come on,” he
encouraged.

“
This is because of my
daddy, isn’t it?”

Mack sighed. “Angie,” he
said softly. Uneasiness filled his chest. They were coming. He
could feel it. It was like a sixth sense, an image in his head,
slightly visible against his sight. He saw rising numbers and
suddenly realized this was the first floor or main floor, everyone
came here, so naturally the elevator stopped. It was part of the
program. “I’m way past blaming anyone for this mess. I just want to
get out of here and now. They’re coming.”

She nodded and held out her
hand. He took her small hand in his and held it firmly and headed
for the elevator.

The door banged against the
dead guy. He glanced at the elevator next to his. Quickly rising
white lights above the door grabbed his attention.

“
Oh fuck.” He picked up the
kid, surprised at how light she was and the fact she didn’t seem to
mind and fight against him. She knew the situation, knew what was
going on.

He ran along the hallway,
hoping to God there was a stairway at the end of it. There was. He
pushed open the door, hard and fast as the ping of the elevator
announced their arrival. The stairwell door hit something on the
other side, knocked it out of the way.

Driven back, the man in the
black suit lost his footing, missed the lower step and tumbled
down. He bounced once on his back and hit the lower landing,
headfirst. His neck twisted at a strange angle and the snap of bone
was loud and sharp.

“
Daddy!” the girl cried
out.

“
He was lost, sweetie,”
Mack said. He was relieved when she seemed to understand and hugged
his neck tighter.

He closed the door softly
behind him. As it shut he caught a glimpse of them. At least
fifteen piled out of the elevator and spread through the hallway.
Most went into the lab. Mack heard crashing and shattering glass.
He shook his head as the door finally shut, at least none of them
were headed this way.

He heard the pounding of
feet on lower level stairs. That’s why they didn’t come this
way...others were.

“
We can’t go down,” he said
more to himself than the girl gripping his neck tightly. “Gonna
have to loosen up a bit there, Angie-sweetie. I gotta
breathe.”

“
Please go,” she begged,
keeping the grip tight.

It isn’t that bad, Mack
figured, he could handle the tight hold for now and turned to the
steps rising up. He had no idea what he was going to do once he
reached the roof but the sound of feet below killed any thoughts of
later. Now was what was important and he raced up the facing flight
and the next two.

Mack was breathing hard when
he reached the door to the roof. Angie’s grip had tightened.
“Loosen up,” he ordered her. She did slightly and he pushed down
the bar on the door.

Everything looked so
different from up here. Slowly he walked to the edge. On all sides
he saw burning buildings off in the distance, destroyed houses and
offices, windows smashed, cars overturned.

Some of the truly dead lay
on yards and in cars sweltering as they rotted. It wasn’t so bad
this high up, away from it all.

The city gates were
somewhere out there, yet all he could see was destruction. The
virus had truly gone airborne. There was nothing as far as he could
see. Gray billows of smoke rose to the sky in all
directions.

Memories flashed like images
against the desolation of the city he had known his entire life:
Him talking to a man in the black suit standing at his front door;
a salesman: “It completely cleans the water system, attach it to
the bottom of your tap and enjoy clean water...forever.” He’d
answered, “Forever is a long time.” The salesman nodded. “And it’s
free.”; his son in bed, pale faced; Helen crying, hugging her son,
trying to awaken him from eternal sleep; Mack standing over the
bed, helpless; Helen in the kitchen, yelling at him: “Do
something!” A plate flying past his head, smashing against the
kitchen door: “You worthless piece of shit!” Helen crying; Helen
dead; the city in panic; riots, fires, death; the army called in --
police overwhelmed; martial law enacted and enforced; citizens
dropping dead in yards, cars, streets; fleers shot on sight; a gate
erected; thousands locked in the city; nights filled with gunfire;
Mack staring at a blank television waiting for some kind of news.
Nothing. Then one night all was silent and the next day he had
walked.

“
Mack?”

I love you,
Helen.

“
Maaaccccckkk.”

The girl’s voice destroyed
the image of his memories, each like windows on a computer,
suddenly closed as if someone had pressed the X button without his
consent.

“
Maaackkk,” she sang. “Come
baacckkkk, Maaaaaack.”

He stared at the scenery,
not completely sure the images had gone yet. The girl’s singing
forced him to the here and now. It wasn’t easy, not with his breath
being chocked from him...

What?

Mack gagged, snapped back to
reality. Angie had her arms tightly around the back of his neck and
her knee against his Adam’s apple and the little eight-year-old
girl pulled hard. He strained against her weight; Angie was
practically hanging off his neck, her face twisted with the
exertion. Her young muscles burning every ounce of strength they
possessed.

Mack’s vision
blurred.

Angie’s twisted face
smiled.

Angie...closet...Mack...streets...Angie...no…food...Mack
hungry...Angie the same. Angie...Angie...Angie. How the fuck was
she still alive?

Her eyes sparkled with eight
years old innocence. They sparkled, absolutely fucking sparkled
with...hunger, as she opened her mouth.

Fear gripped Mack like never
before. He watched her lean toward him, but her knees blocked any
advance. His energy seeped into oblivion with each passing second.
He tried to push her off him, but her interlocked fingers held
firm.

The dead were coming and it
didn’t matter, he was about to join them. It hadn’t taken long to
search the floor and make their way up her here. Like before, he
saw...steps, boots, sneakers and dress shoes.

Mack’s vision blotched at
the side like ink blots on paper that spread out in a large mess.
His legs trembled, knees buckled and like a dead weight, he dropped
to the gravel-coated rooftop.

The jolt knocked Angie’s
knee from his neck. Air, tasting like smoke and burnt meat,
exploded into his lungs. He grabbed her skinny arms and raised them
over his head. Angie shrieked. The innocent girl routine -- almost
worked.