The Demented Z (Book 1):The Demented (4 page)

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Authors: Derek J. Thomas

Tags: #Zombie Apocalypse

BOOK: The Demented Z (Book 1):The Demented
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They
both turned and sprinted for the next door. Trying the door handle they found it
locked. The demented were gaining on them as they sprinted farther down the
corridor, looking for an escape. Barely slowing for the next door a quick test
proved it to be locked as well.

Rachael
turned and fired off two quick blasts with the shotgun, dropping the closest
two. Several more demented filled their spots.

Nearing
the end of the hall, Tom reached for another door handle, desperate, knowing he
would have to make a last stand with his pistol if it did not open. The door
handle turned freely. They rushed through the opening, slamming the door
closed behind them, and engaging the large deadbolt. This was immediately
followed by enraged pounding on the door.

Up
to this point the demented seemed to lack enough mental capacity to use a door
handle, but Tom felt the deadbolt was a good safety precaution.

Rachael
was nearly out of breath. “Wow…”

“No
crap…more early staff than I thought.”

They
found themselves in a small hallway, with a door on each side, and a door at the far end,
with red lettering that read “Security.” While Rachael loaded her last shotgun
round, Tom began easing toward the security door, pistol held out in
front. The security glass was difficult to see through, but Tom could see the
lights were on and there was no movement inside.

Opening
the door, he quickly moved several feet into the room, scanning for targets.
Rachael swept in right behind him. In the center of the room sat a long island with a
bank of security monitors. The floor was littered with spent shell casings.
Next to a tipped over chair was a smeared blood trail that led around the corner
of the island, out of sight.

Signaling
Rachael to work around the far end, he began following the blood
trail. On the floor behind the island lay another security guard, surrounded
by a pool of blood, clearly dead. His face and neck were a bloody mess. Next
to him on the floor was his Glock, chamber open and empty.

Tom
squatted next to him to get a closer look. “He…he almost looks chewed on.” Standing back up, Tom walked the room, looking.

Rachael
sat down in front of the bank of security monitors.

Tom
stopped pacing. “Not much in here. Looks like they only carried their side
arms.”

“Come
look at this.”

Pushing
the fallen chair out of the way, Tom pulled another chair over next to Rachael
and sat down. She pointed to the corner of one of the monitors. Looking close
at the image, he could see that it was from a camera at the end of the service
corridor. Surrounding, and pounding on their door were at least eight people.
The demented in the back were ripping at those in front of them, trying to get
to the door.

Tom
sat back. “They’re relentless…single minded hatred.”

“How
are we going to get back out?”

Ignoring
her question, Tom said, “Except the security guy in the lobby…he must have been
a bit different.”

“What
are you talking about?”

Tom
leaned his elbows on the desk, looking at the monitors. “Do you think he
killed the guy back there?” He said, nodding toward the back of the room.

Looking
a bit frustrated and confused she replied, “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t see
any security guys at our door.”

“Even
if he isn’t the guy, he snuck up on us…more restrained or something. But I’m
with you. I think he killed his buddy and left. To get out he must have used
the doors.”

Nodding
in agreement. “You’re right, but we still need to get out of here.”

Looking
down at the desk, Tom sat thinking. After awhile he looked over at her and
said, “Sorry, just trying to get a handle on all of this. Let’s figure these
cameras out”

After
a bit of trial and error, they had a map up on one screen, and by clicking
individual cameras they could view the corresponding live feed on another. Tom began
clicking through all the cameras to see what he could find. While he was doing
this, Rachael was busy next to him, trying to review stored footage on another
set of monitors.

After
several minutes, Tom sat back in his chair and turned toward Rachael.
“Anything?”

She
did not take her eyes off the screen. “Almost there.” She turned the dial on
her keyboard a bit. “Take a look at this.” She pointed to the monitor. On
the monitor was the view of the service corridor and the door they
were behind. “This is from this morning and you were right.”

Tom
watched the monitor as the lobby security guy came out of the door, blood on
his mouth and chin. He glanced each way, and then started down the corridor
with an awkward gait.

“Definitely
more in control…got the doors and somehow didn’t get shot by his partner.”

Rachael
sat back. “I bet his partner completely freaked out and panicked.”

Tom
rolled his chair back over in front of a different set of monitors. “Keep looking
through the footage and see if you can learn anything more.” Clicking through
the cameras on the map, he began cycling through the various live feeds. Not
looking for anything in particular, just staying busy in an attempt to keep his
family out of his mind.

His
worry for them kept creeping back into his mind and now that he and Rachael
were in reasonable safety, the dread was really sinking in. Needing to fill the
silence, Tom said, “I’m going to find a way to get back home.” He turned
toward Rachael. “My son and wife are back home…up by Spokane.” Rachael
continued to work the keyboard dial and stare at her monitor. “What about
you?” He finished.

“Look
at this.” She said.

Sighing,
Tom rolled his chair back over next to her while mumbling under his breath,
"Never mind.”

The
monitor showed an empty hallway with a large entryway into a dark room. Based
on the size of the entryway, he guessed it was one of the exhibit rooms. Out of
the darkness came several demented, legs jerking awkwardly.

“Here
he comes,” Rachael said.

As
if on cue, the lobby security guy came stumbling into view below the camera.
He continued toward the group. They barely seemed to notice him, however he
looked at each of them as he walked between them, and then he moved off into
the darkness they had come from.

“See
that. You were right.”

Tom
sat back. “He’s smarter, and the little girl in the road lacked the rage. Some
are affected differently.”

Seeing
sudden movement out of the corner of his eye, Tom spun around in his chair.
The monitor remained on the live feed from the camera outside their door. The
demented were rushing away from the door. Tom zipped over to the monitor.
“Where are they going?” He began clicking through the feeds as quickly as
possible.

Rachael
stepped over next to him. “They heard something.”

Tom
stopped on one of the live feeds. “No!” He shouted, pointing to the monitor.
“Look.”

On
the monitor, they watched an older looking man with a rifle slung over his
shoulder, digging through equipment in one of the exhibits. He was going
through items, throwing some of them to the floor in a pile.

Standing
up Tom said, “They hear him…he’s going to get ripped apart.” Grabbing the
pistol he headed for the door. He did not have a plan yet, but he couldn't
just sit idle and watch.

“Don’t
go.” Rachael pleaded.

Knowing
he did not have time to argue with her and this was something he had to do, Tom
sprinted out the door. Turning down the corridor in the same direction the
demented ran off, he yelled as loud as he could, “They’re coming! Look out!”
Not knowing where the guy was or if he even heard his yells, Tom continued
down the corridor.

Passing
the entryway to the exhibit he and Rachael worked through earlier, Tom took a
sharp left, following the corridor. He could hear footsteps in the distance.
It sounded like they were coming from around the next corner. “They’re coming
for you!” He yelled again.

Just
as he finished yelling, a stream of demented came running around the corner,
back toward him. They had heard his shouts and changed prey. Dropping to one
knee, he took careful aim with the pistol and waited, knowing they were too far
away for the pistol. He did not have a count on the demented, but every shot
would have to count. Taking steady deep breaths, he tried to quell his rising
panic.
Slow is smooth and smooth is fast
he continued to repeat to
himself.

With
smooth pulls of the trigger, he began sending shots downrange. The demented
recoiled from shots to their chests and dropped in heaps on the floor. Some of
the followers stumbled and fell over their comrades’ bodies, but immediately
re-gained their feet, continuing their pursuit. Remaining calm, as if shooting
balloons at the county fair, Tom continued to pull the trigger, sending rounds
down the corridor. Even with consistent shots, the demented continued to appear
behind those that fell to his barrage of lead. They were nearly on top of him.

Suddenly,
startling him, Rachael appeared next to him with the shotgun. She barely had
to aim they were so close. With a loud boom, a couple of the demented in the
front were slammed backwards with the impact. Using up her last shot, she could
only watch in horror as several more took their spots.

Tom’s
shots became quicker with the ever approaching group. With a click the slide
on the Glock remained in the back position. He was out of ammo.

Quickly
standing, he yelled for her to run. There were four demented left, more than
he could hope to take on without weapons. He knew they were doomed, but maybe
he could at least spare her his fate. She stood next to him, unmoving.

Tom
squatted down, bracing for impact, then there came a loud boom. The head of
the demented just in front of him exploded in a red flash. Another boom,
another head exploded. The next demented crashed into Tom, sending both of
them flying to the ground. With a grunt, all the air was crushed out of his
lungs. He heard another loud boom, but the demented on top of him continued to
tear at his face, trying to rip into him. Her eyes were circled in red, and her
mouth dripped oozing blood on Tom’s face. With all his strength, he used his
forearm to keep the gnashing teeth from reaching him.

Suddenly
Rachael stepped in behind the demented, shotgun raised above her head like a
baseball bat. With a loud grunt, she brought the butt of the shotgun slamming
down on the skull of the demented. With a sickening crunch, his attacker went
still, dead eyes staring at Tom. He hefted her limp body off of himself.

“Thank
you.” He sputtered, still out of breath.

The
sound of boots on concrete caused both of them to look down the corridor.
Jogging toward them was the man from the video feed. He wore a plaid shirt,
jeans, and black combat boots. In his right hand, he held his rifle by the
stock, comfortable with its weight. He came to a stop next to Tom and reached
out with his hand.

Tom
was surprised to see the weather hardened and wrinkled face of an older man.
His hair was grey with specks of black. Tom grasped the man’s outstretched
hand, glad for the assistance back to his feet.

With
a grin the man said, “That was exciting.”

Tom
started to say something, but the man looked down the corridor and interrupted
him, “Let’s get somewhere safe kids.”

Hoping
they would not run into any demented on their way back, Tom and Rachael lead
the way to the security room.

Sitting
in front of the bank of security monitors, the older man said, “I was wondering
how someone would have known where I was, and that they were coming for me.” He
spun back around in his chair. “Thanks.”

Nodding,
Tom said, “I’m Tom and this is Rachael. You deserve a thanks as well…we were
goners.”

With
that same grin from earlier, “Ahhh…I call that a ticker test. Makes sure a man
is still tick’n.” He let out a low chuckle. “Kinda fun.”

Tom
wasn’t sure what to think. He exchanged a glance with Rachael, who seemed
unsure as well.

“Don’t
worry kids, I’m not crazy. I’ve been in worse before.” He hesitated a bit.
“Anyway, name’s Hank.”

“So…what
were you doing Hank?” Rachael asked.

“Probably
same as you guys. I was at the convention over the weekend and figured this
was the place to stock up.” Hank shrugged his shoulders. “Prepare for
anything kind of thing. I was staying just down the way with a friend…he’s
gone,” Hank said, swallowing hard at the end.

Tom
relayed what they had gone through since the hotel. He left out little Jack,
knowing he would have a tough time with his emotions. Rachael sat looking through
the video feeds while he gave the recap. She did not bring up Jack either.

“What
about you, know anything?” Tom asked.

Hank
sat thinking, likely trying to decide which parts of his story to leave out.
In the chaos and heat of battle, decisions had to be made; things had to be
done, many not a person’s proudest moments. “I think it’s some type of
infection.”

“The
news this morning said it had something to do with the flu shot?” Tom said,
looking confused.

“I
don’t know for sure, but my friend and I were reading through some blogs and
the flu theory just isn’t consistent.” Hank leaned toward Tom, collecting his
thoughts. “People get shots at all different times. Different countries will
get them at completely different times, months apart, some not at all. From
what we found, this has hit worldwide over the last week.”

Tom
hadn’t had time to think things through much, but Hank was making a lot of
sense.

Hank
sat back. “The flu shot may have something to do with the trigger…maybe having
it in a person’s body interacts with the virus or whatever it is, I don’t
know.” Hank said, shrugging his shoulders.

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