Life After The Undead (Book 2): Death to the Undead (24 page)

Darkness
lay
beyond. That didn’t sit
well
with
me.
Logic
dictated the
chances of
zombies
being
on the
roof
were
slim to
none,
but who would
have
guessed
they
would be
able
to
climb
a
ladder?
I
had
visions of
skeletons
falling
from
the
ceiling,
burying
us in
snapping
jaws.
Quinn jumped
and
punched
again.
More
stuff
fell
from
the
ceiling.
I
turned away
to keep
from
getting
it in
my
eyes.
Something
thudded
behind
me
and
hit
my
ankle.
I
jumped
and
turned, a
small
squeak
escaping
from
my
mouth. I
still
had
my
gun
in
my
hand,
and
I
was
ready
to use
it.
It
was
just the
ceiling
block, but
I
didn’t
relax.
My
hands
were
sweating,
and
I
needed
to
pee.
I
looked
back
up. Quinn jumped
again,
trying
to get a
hold
of
something
in the
ceiling I
couldn’t
see.
It
took
him four
tries, but he
finally
pulled down a
knotted
rope. He
hopped
down
from
the
chair.

“I’m
going
to
go
up
first.
You
hand
me the
bags,
then
I’ll
pull
you
up.”

I
nodded.

A
knock
resounded
from
the
end
of
the
hall. Both
of
our
heads
turned to the
direction.
I
hurried
down the
hall
and
stopped
at
the
door. Peering
through the window,
I
scanned
the
admission
room.
I
could see
the
corner
of
the
trapdoor.
It
was
open.
They
finally
made
it
through.

Another
knock
sounded,
right
next
to the
window. I
glanced
into the
lifeless
eyes
of
a
zombie.
Half
of
his
face
had rotted off.
His
mouth
opened
and
closed
on the
glass,
leaving a
trail
of
yellow
saliva.
I
double
checked
the
lock
on the
door.
It
would hold. I
turned back to
Quinn.
He was
already
up
the
rope. Laying
on his
stomach,
his
arms
dangled
out of the
hole. I
handed him
the
first
bag.
He
tossed
it
into the
darkness,
followed
by
the
second
one.

“Step
onto the bottom knot and hang
on to another,”
he
said.

I
did as
I
was
told,
and
he
lifted
me into the
ceiling.

We
dug
our
flashlights
out of our
bags
and
shone
them
around.
The
area
was
large
enough
for
us to
crouch
in, our
toes
hung
over the
edge
of the
opening.
Above
us
was
another
door.
This
one
was
metal.
Quinn
pushed on
it, but it didn’t
budge.

“It’s
probably
locked from the
outside,”
he
said.

He
slammed
his
shoulder
into it,
and
it moved
slightly.
He
did it
several
more
times, hoping
to
break
the
lock, but nothing
happened.

“Shoot
it.”

He
stared
at
me.

“Shoot
the
lock.
It’s
the
only
way.”

“You’ll
want
to
get
back
down.
It’s
going
to
be
loud.”

I
crouched
down
and
covered
my
ears.
“I’ll
be
fine.”

He
fired
two shots.
Even
though
my
ears were
trying
to
recover
from
the
earlier
shots,
I
still
thought
my
ear
drums
were
going
to explode.
It
was
painful. I
briefly
wondered
if
my
ears
were
bleeding,
but
I
didn’t have
time
to find out.
The
door
popped
open,
and
we
clambered
onto the
roof.

The
sun
was
low in the
sky
but still a
few
hours
away
from
setting.
I
spun
as
I
surveyed
the
area,
my
gun
at
the
ready.
There
wasn’t much on the
roof,
just some
gravel
and
a
couple
of
intakes. Once
we
realized
everything
was
safe,
Quinn
slammed
the
door
shut, then
collapsed
on top
of
it. I
lowered
my
weapon. Out of
the
corner
of
my
eye,
something
glinted
in the
distance.
I
turned
to look
at
it.

Two
buildings
away,
the
sunlight
reflected
off
something.
I
squinted.
From
where
I stood, it looked like a
person
looking
through
binoculars.
He realized
I
was
looking
at
him
and
disappeared.

“Did
you
see
that?”

Quinn
nodded. “Unfortunately,
yes.”

“What
do
you
think it was?”

“Someone
making
sure we
didn’t
get
out of the
building
alive.”

I
jerked
my
head
toward
him,
eyes
wide.
“What?
You think those
zombies
were
sent to
attack
us?”

Quinn took a
deep
breath
and
got
to his
feet.
He
brushed
the
white
dust from the
ceiling
off his clothes,
which
didn’t actually
come
off,
but
smeared
into the
fabric.

“We
checked
everything
last
night.
Nothing.
We
were
secure.
Yeah,
the
creatures
could
have
gotten
up the
staircase,
it’s
happened
before. But
there
is no way
they
could
have
opened the door
that
leads
outside
from
the
trapdoor.
It
was
locked
from the inside.
They’re
not
smart
enough
to
figure
it
out.
I’m
guessing
someone
alive
opened
it for
them.”

“But
who?”

He
stared
at
me,
his
head
cocked
to the
side, the look
on his
face
said
I
should know
who
did it.
“If
I
had to bet
my
life,
I
would say
it was
Duncan.”