INFECTED (Click Your Poison) (74 page)

Hefty stops boarding and claims his bow. He releases arrows at nearly the rate of one per second, sending solid, razor-edged tips into zombie foreheads, deftly killing the other ghouls. These hunting arrows were designed to penetrate thick animal hide, so a human skull poses little resistance to the fifty pounds of force expertly homed on the center of the skull at 300 feet per second.

But then his window gives way to the undead onslaught. “Backup rally point is the nurse’s office!” Deleon yells from the center, smashing his pointer finger into the blueprints.

“Ladies and gentleman, we have contact,” Sims’ voice crackles in over the radio. “There’s a resistance group fortified in the local prison. You can kiss my ass whenever you’re ready.”

“There’s rescue?” you say, more to yourself than the group.

Deleon had already turned to leave the cafeteria, but turns back and grabs the handheld radio. “Sims! We’re being overrun! There’s no way we—” Right as Deleon turns back around, a zombie reaches out to grab his face, but a hunting arrow flies through both its arms and pins them together at the last second.

The fiend’s hands are knocked away but, not feeling any pain, the zombie brings its arms back up to continue the attack. Another arrow buries into its skull and it falls to the ground. Hefty waves a salute from across the cafeteria.

Deleon accidentally dropped the radio during the attack; the battery pack popped out and pieces of broken black plastic lie on the tile floor. He doesn’t even make an effort to pick it up. You all run out of the cafeteria, looking both ways as you exit the door. One side of the hallway is filled with zombies. On the other side: Hefty’s already here, taking aim with his bow.

The group of zombies is led by a topless zombie, a pantless zombie and a zombified Dr. Richard Phoenix. “Richard?” Deleon says in disbelief, despite the absolute recognition of his colleague.

At this, the group of zombies stops its meandering and full speed stumble-runs at the group, ambling as fast as they can. It’s not a coordinated sprint like yours, but they can certainly cover some ground in their frenzied state.

You turn away from the undead crowd and run past Hefty. He stands stoically, aims his bow, and looses an arrow down the hall. It smashes into a pre-positioned blood bag hanging by the ceiling, bursting it and sending blood cascading down the wall. A group of zombies peels off to attack the bloody wall, which is working just as Hefty hoped it would.

Deleon, Cooper, and Tyberius run up the open stairwell but stop at the landing to look out the window. You stop as well to see what’s captured their attention. The searchlights atop the school are on again—that must be Sims’ doing—but that’s not why your friends have stopped. When a spotlight waves across the street, you finally see it.

Every undead man, woman, and child in the city—hundreds of thousands of them—stand shoulder to shoulder, covering every free inch of street space. They’re all waiting their turn to enter the school. “There’s no way we’re gonna make it,” Tyberius says in a daze.

“I need that cure!” Deleon shouts. “I’ll meet you at the nurse’s office.” He turns to go up the stairs, but Cooper checks his move.

“We stick with the plan. Isolate the stairwells,
then
go get your cure. You get this one, once Hefty makes it up. Ty, you and I will get the east side.” Deleon nods, but Tyberius didn’t even hear her. She shakes his shoulder, “
Tyberius.
”

“Huh? Yeah, let’s go, Coop.”

“Meet you at the western stairs,” she says, turning to go.

•
 
“I’m coming too!”

•
 
“I’ll stay here and help Deleon.”

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

C
ooper lights a camping lantern. Her movements are fluid and natural, though she never struck you as the outdoors type. Maybe it’s the mechanic’s shirt, but she looks like a city girl. Guillermo grabs other camping lamps and fuel, then nods toward Cooper. She nods back in approval.

“So what did you all do back in the real world?” you ask.

Guillermo stares blankly ahead, not comprehending.

“Drank wine,” Angelica sighs.

“I was a motherfucking assassin,” Cooper says in a droll manner.

“Seriously,” you protest.

“Doesn’t matter,” Cooper says. Angelica just shrugs. Guillermo checks the aisles. “Listen newbie, that world’s gone. And as far as I’m concerned, I hope it doesn’t come back—not the same way, anyway.”

“Oh, yeah, I agree; things were really terrible when I didn’t carry an axe and go door-to-door in search of food,” you respond as drily as you can intone.

“Shut up, asshole. I’m talking about normal murder. Wars. Politicians, embezzlers, perjurers, all those people who get away with anything and everything because they make the rules.”

“White-collar crime? Really? That’s your biggest concern right now?”

She shrugs. “No such thing as a zombie apocalypse bailout.”

“Yo, Coop! We got something here!” Tyberius shouts from the back.

Cooper turns toward Deleon and Sims, then yells, “Stockroom!”

•
 
Head to the stockroom.

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

L
ucas Tesshu slides his sword from its sheath with a satisfactory
shing!
“You two go radio for help; I’ll hold them off for now.”

You follow Rosie back into the control room, where she activates the call button once more. “Salvation, this is Rescue Team One. Things have gone south—send reinforcements. Repeat, send Rescue Team Two.”

There’s an immediate, if not angry, response. “This is Colonel Gray. What’s going on?”

“We’re trapped in the control tower. They have us surrounded. Over.”

“What kind of numbers are we talking about here? Things might get worse before we get there. You sure you can’t fight your way back to the jeep?”

Rosie looks to you with uncertainty and shrugs. With a furrowed brow, she hands you the microphone.

•
 
“We’ll take care of it, Colonel. Over and out.” Fight your way down.

•
 
“We’re sure! Get somebody up here, STAT!”