Rotter World (32 page)

Compton flipped the lighter closed and shoved it into his jacket pocket. He climbed the short ladder leading to the air filtration room and stepped inside. The access ladder extended close to three hundred feet straight up. A difficult climb, especially with the two steel briefcases of vaccine, but it had to be done. Clutching one briefcase in his left hand and lodging the second under his left arm, the doctor began the slow climb topside.

* * *

Dravko rushed down the access road that ran the length of the facility. He was still several hundred feet from the end and, despite the dark, could make out Compton’s heat signature by the door to the air filtration room. The doctor glanced at his watch and then headed inside. Dravko’s lips curled into a sardonic smile. He had Compton trapped.

* * *

Robson reached the outer door of the admin building and peered through the window. A group of swarmers in military fatigues crowded around the door to the research lab fifty feet down the hall, banging and clawing to get in. He counted at least half a dozen, maybe more, though he could not be certain considering how close they were bunched together. There were more swarmers than he wanted to face by himself, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Even from this distance, he could see the door jamb giving way. Unless he acted in the next few seconds, Jennifer would wind up as an MRE for these things.

Robson flipped off the safety on his AA-12. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he pushed open the door and stepped into the corridor. The swarmers ignored him. He raised the shotgun and aimed it down the hall at head level, then yelled out.

“Hey, assholes.”

As one, the swarmers turned in the direction of the voice. Upon seeing him they charged, a snarling pack that filled the hall. Robson waited until they were within twenty-five feet before squeezing the trigger.

The weapon discharged its entire magazine of twenty rounds in a few seconds. The affect on the swarmers at so close a range was devastating. Bodies twisted in unnatural positions. Limbs were amputated. Heads exploded. Chests erupted. A cloud of blood and gore formed around the swarmers as the shotgun shells tore them to shreds. The attack came to an end in less than five seconds, churning the creatures into a pile of shattered corpses. A pool of dark-brown blood filled the corridor from wall to wall.

Robson waded through the bodies, his shoes squishing beneath him. When he reached the door to the research lab, he knocked.

“Jennifer, it’s all clear. Open up so we can get out of here.”

He heard the deadbolt being slid to one side. A moment later, the door swung open and Jennifer rushed out, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Thank God. That door wouldn’t have held out much longer.”

“You’re safe now.” Robson stepped back, gently breaking the hug. “Let’s get out of here while—”

Moaning from farther down the corridor caught their attention. More swarmers ran out of Compton’s private lab, attracted by the noise. Fresh meat and bright red blood covered their mouths and chests. They didn’t pause as they entered the hall, instead breaking into a sprint toward him and Jennifer, outstretched hands grasping for the food. Robson didn’t have time to reload to face this new threat. Instead, he shoved Jennifer back into the research lab, slamming the door shut behind them.

* * *

“Fuck!” Amy dropped her Mauser and bent over, clutching her eye.

Natalie pushed her way through the first line of Angels. “What’s wrong?”

“A fucking wasp stung me.”

Natalie picked up the Mauser and led Amy out of the front line. Sandy moved up in her place. Once the two women were clear of the firing line, Natalie placed the Mauser against the wall and lifted Amy’s head. “Move your hand.”

Amy did as ordered. Natalie looked at the eye, trying not to grimace. The iris was veined and bloodshot, and the eyeball itself had started to swell, pushing against the lids. Amy had to get medical attention, which she would not get until they had finished out here.

“How does it look?” asked Amy.

“It’s gonna hurt, but you should be okay in the long run.” Natalie grabbed the Mauser. “I’ll take it from here.”

“No.” Amy took back the Mauser. “I can do this.”

“Are you sure?”

Amy nodded, wincing from the pain. She rejoined the line, taking the opportunity to reload and moving into Bethany’s place when the latter expended her magazine.

Bethany’s firing was off. Because of the cast on her broken wrist, she could not hold the Mauser, instead resting the barrel on her outstretched arm to fire. With every shot, the recoil jerked the rifle to one side, spoiling her aim. And cocking the bolt to reload proved nearly impossible. Caylee stepped over and switched weapons.

“What’s that for?” asked Bethany.

“It’s easier for you to shoot with this one. I set it to three-round bursts.”

Bethany laid the barrel of the M-16 on her arm, lined up on a rotter in a runner’s outfit, and pulled the trigger. Two rounds slammed into the rotter’s chest and the third struck it in the neck, decapitating it. Caylee patted Bethany on the shoulder, then took down a rotter in a soiled three-piece suit.

Natalie felt proud of her girls. She just hoped they would live to see tomorrow morning. They had been keeping up a steady stream of fire against the rotters, and had been downing them by the dozens, yet if seemed to do no good. Despite the body count, the living dead never seemed to thin out. Every time the Angels changed lines, the ones reloading fell back a little farther than before, seeking safer ground against the advancing horde. Natalie hadn’t been keeping track, but by now they must have fallen back at least to the blast door.

Looking over her shoulder to check her location, Natalie’s heart skipped a beat. Twenty rotters were approaching them from behind. The closest one, wearing a postman’s uniform blackened with dried blood and dragging along a tattered mail bag, had closed to within fifty feet. Christ, if she hadn’t turned around when she did….

“Rotters coming up on our rear,” she yelled out.

Most of the Angels in the second line stopped reloading and looked up, fear filling their eyes when they realized they were about to sandwiched. Natalie refused to let panic overcome them.

“Second line, about face and fire when ready.”

Stephanie finished reloading. She raised the Mauser, aimed, and fired off a shot that blew out the postman rotter’s eye. It moaned and toppled over backwards. Stephanie didn’t even notice, already taking aim on a fat, naked rotter without a left arm. Within seconds, the Angels in the second line joined in the decimation of this new front of rotters.

* * *

When Thompson’s eyes finally reopened, his mind had no comprehension of where he was or what had happened. Or even who he was. He only knew that he hungered. He found it difficult to stand up without an arm and with chunks of his thigh muscles missing, but after several failed attempts he grabbed hold of an old table and used it to raise himself on wobbly legs. When he tried to walk, he nearly toppled over, tripping over a large section of his intestine that dangled out of his ripped open abdomen and wound around his feet. Thompson clutched the coil in his one good hand and ripped out the end, flinging it aside. With uncertain steps, he stumbled out into the hall.

Several swarmers hovered around a door to his right, snarling and scratching at something on the other side, probably food. There were too many of them, so getting his fair share would be impossible. Some deep part of his brain he was barely conscious of told him that more food could be found outside the building.

Thompson set off down the hall, supporting himself on the wall as he slowly grew accustomed to walking on ravaged legs. Passing by the swarmers gathered around the lab, he made his way to the end of the hall, out the open door, and stumbled down the stairs. He tripped on the last step, crashing face-first onto the cement and knocking out several teeth. He struggled back to his feet, standing up quicker this time as he became more familiar with his body. Looking around, he didn’t see any food. Thompson moaned, the hunger almost unbearable.

Instinct told him to turn right. Thompson set off down the access road, ignoring the buildings where food might be hidden. Instead, he wandered in the direction of the air filtration room.

* * *

Robson and Jennifer backed up across the room until they bumped into the counter running along the opposite wall, all the while keeping their eyes fixed on the door. The eight swarmers outside pounded and scratched at the glass and slammed their weight into the wood, crazed by their previous feeding and frantic for more. After one particularly heavy blow, the window shattered inward and a large crack appeared down the center of the wood. Decayed arms jutted through the empty pane, frenetically grasping and clutching at the humans. The combined weight of the swarmers and the intense pounding rapidly weakened the door. Robson saw the crack growing larger, and noticed the hinges pulling away from the jamb. They had a few seconds at most.

Robson removed the empty magazine from the AA-12 and pulled a new one from his jacket pocket. It was a smaller magazine that contained only ten rounds. This one was going to be close.

“Do you still have that Magnum?” asked Jennifer.

“Yeah.” Taking the Magnum from his holster, he handed it to Jennifer. Jennifer flipped open the chamber to make sure it was loaded, closed it, switched the safety to ‘off’, and cocked back the hammer. She aimed at the door, her feet spread shoulder-length apart. She flashed Robson an encouraging smile and nodded toward the shotgun. “You ready?”

Robson raised his AA-12 and took aim just as the door burst apart and the swarmers poured in.

* * *

Dravko darted up the ladder to the air filtration room. He pushed open the door and rushed inside, knocking over three of the jerry cans filled with gasoline. The lid on two of them fell off, allowing gasoline to slosh onto the floor. Dravko jumped across the room onto the access ladder so as not to get his shoes soaked.

One hundred feet up the ladder, Compton stood on one the rungs, staring down in disbelief. The doctor glanced up at the exit more than two hundred feet above. Rays of sunlight streamed through the grating and lit up the opposite wall. Compton began climbing the ladder as quickly as possible, although with his left arm and hand clutching two of the briefcases, his progress was slow. The doctor must have known he couldn’t make it topside before Dravko caught him.

Which made the game of cat and mouse all the more sweet.

“What’s the hurry, doctor?” asked Dravko tauntingly.

Compton continued climbing.

“You haven’t given Robson’s team their vaccines yet.”

The doctor’s panting became more audible.

“And I hear you have something special for us.” Dravko’s voice took on an ominous tone.

Compton climbed frantically, moving so fast that his right hand nearly slipped off the rung he reached for. With a frightened gasp, he leaned into the ladder and wrapped his arm tightly around the rung. The sudden action caused the briefcase under Compton’s arm to slip. It dangled precariously close to falling until the doctor closed his left arm tight around the sides and maneuvered his right hand to pull it back into place.

Seeing his chance, Dravko glided up the ladder, crawling hand over hand two rungs at a time. He covered the distance to Compton in seconds, stopping beside the doctor. With his right foot and hand anchored on the ladder, Dravko stood with the left side of his body hanging into the shaft. He grabbed Compton by the shoulder, preventing him from climbing any further.

“Going somewhere, doctor?”

“Yes,” Compton replied cockily, his arrogance having returned. “To take back my world from the rotters you released on us.”

“And you plan on doing that by setting the rotters against us?”

“Use evil to purge evil.” Compton turned his head to look back at Dravko. “Very Biblical, don’t you think?”

Dravko sneered. “Don’t be so smug. As much as you hate my kind, at least we don’t kill each other.”

“How noble,” said Compton contemptuously. “Let’s see if you practice what you preach.”

Compton lifted his left arm. The briefcase slipped free, dropping down the shaft. It careened off a ladder rung and ricocheted off the opposite wall. The blow popped open the lid, spilling the twenty-five vials of vaccine down the shaft. Everything crashed to the floor below. Each of the vials shattered, mixing the vaccine with the gasoline. Compton used his thumb to flip the latch on the briefcase in his hand. The lid fell open, tilting the briefcase at an angle. Several vials of vaccine slid out of their foam rubber compartment, smashing on the cement below. Compton waited for the last vial to hit before he let go of the handle, letting the briefcase tumble down with the other.

The doctor leaned closer to the ladder, switched hands holding the rung, and leaned back out into the shaft so he faced Dravko. “That was the last of the vaccine. You kill me, your human friends won’t make it out of here alive. Unless, of course, you see this as the perfect chance to get rid of the last of the humans.”