The Demented Z (Book 1):The Demented (5 page)

Tom
just nodded his head, still processing the new information.

Rachael
had quit with the video feeds and sat watching the two of them. Maybe it was a
woman’s intuition, but suddenly she broke in, “There is something else,
something more that you're leaving out.”

“Yeah,
but I don’t think it holds any merit.” Hank said, shaking his head.

At
the same time Tom and Rachael said, “What?”

“Jinx,
you owe me a soda.” Hank chuckled. “Sorry…neighbors’ grandkids used to always
do that if I said the same thing as them at the same time. Never was quick as
them, cost me a lot of sodas.” Holding a hand out and shaking his head.
“Anyway, there were several reports…blog accounts…of people coming back.”

Clearly
confused, Tom said, “Coming back where…what do you mean?”

“Dead…and
then back alive, like in the old zombie movies. Some called them the undead,
some called them walkers or something like that.”

Tom
smiled and then began laughing. “You’re right, I think we can ignore that one.”

“It
was reported on several different blog sites from around the world, but when
the poo hits the fan you always get crazies coming out of the woodwork. Said
it was any dead, not just the crazy ones.”

“I
think we’ll be all right.” Tom said, still grinning. Looking over at Rachael,
he saw a worried look on her face. She was looking at the desk. Then Tom
realized, not at the desk, but through it, to the dead security guy leaning on
the other side. “Let’s not get carried away.” Tom said, but despite his words,
he still stood, walking slowly around the back of the desk.

There
lay security guy...as dead as ever.

“Hey
Hank, you wanna help me real quick?” The two of them packed Security Guy into
the small hallway between the security room and the service corridor. Tom had
laughed at Hank’s story, but they all felt better without Security Guy in the
same room.

Once
all of them were sitting down in the security room, Tom said, “We’re hungry and
in need of supplies, but I think we should hunker down in here for at least one
night. It's secure, we can monitor the entire building, and I really need some
rest. Thoughts?”

Rachael
nodded her head. “I can’t keep going.”

Hank
nodded his head as well. “I think a night for the city to calm down might help
us out.” Spinning a camo fanny pack around in front of him, he dug in, pulling
out some granola bars and a juice pouch. “Feast anyone?” He said grinning.

After
a bit of food they all crashed on the floor. Even laying on the hard cement
Tom fell asleep almost immediately, the girl with the teddy bear, haunting his
dreams.

Tom
woke to something tugging on his shirt sleeve. Having slept like crap on the
hard floor, he was a bit ticked that someone would be waking him up. Looking
over he saw it was Rachael. She had a look of shock, staring forward.
Following her gaze, his heart raced when he saw the bloody face of Security Guy
through the blurry glass. Even with the blur, Tom had no doubt who it was. He
stood, perfectly still, face right up to the glass.

His
first thought was,
he wasn’t dead
, but Tom immediately new better, there
was no doubt he was dead yesterday. Tom had seen more than his fair share of
dead and Security Guy was definitely dead.

“Hank.”
Tom whispered.

“I’m
already with you.”

Security
Guy must have heard something through the door, because his head slowly turned
to the side, as if trying to listen better. Keeping an eye on him, Tom slowly
rose to his feet. Seeing motion, security guy turned his head back toward them,
looking through the glass. There was a sudden, muffled grunting noise from the
other side of the door, almost a bark.

“Do
you think he is aggressive…demented?” Rachael whispered to no one in
particular.

Hank
stood and started for the door. “Only one way to find out.”

“Wait.
Let me get the door and you cover with your rifle.” Tom said.

Hank
stepped back next to the desk and raised the rifle to his shoulder, sighting on
the door. “Maybe I should just do him through the glass.”

“Let’s
check him out first.” Tom stepped next to the door and turned back toward
Hank.

Hank
gave the go ahead nod.

In
a single smooth motion, Tom released the door handle and stepped back toward the
wall swinging the door wide open. Security Guy must have been resting his
weight on the door, because he immediately came crashing into the room, down on
all fours. He howled with rage, trying to regain his feet. His moves were
slow and erratic.

Tom
back peddled away from him. Hank kept his rifle trained on him as he rose,
waiting to see how he would react. His chewed up lips and jaw hung slack, eyes
glazed over and empty. With a growl that was part moan, he took a step toward
Hank, arms reaching out for him. The loud boom of Hank’s rifle filled the
small room. Security Guy recoiled as the round pounded into his chest and out
the other side, splattering the door.

With
horror, the trio watched as he continued his awkward gait, reaching out for
Hank. His mouth moved, trying to yell out, but only the gurgling of blood
could be heard from the ghastly wound in his chest. Another shot from Hank’s
rifle increased the size of his chest wound, revealing pieces of white bones.
Security guy continued his slow onslaught.

Tom
heard the
clack
of Hank operating the bolt to load another round. With another shot, he watched as the side of Security Guy’s face disappear in a red mist.
As fast as the boom came, Security Guy crumpled to the floor.

Stepping
toward the bloody mess, Rachael said, “Is it dead…totally dead?”

Tom
knelt down next to what was left of its head. “I think so…he’s not moving at
all. They were right…the undead are real. The blogs were right, at least
this…” his words trailing off as he spun toward the security monitors. Dawning
on the other two as well, they all turned toward the bank of monitors.

Clicking
through the camera feeds, they stopped when the service corridor outside the
door came up. Rachael let out a gasp. A procession of erratic, stumbling
undead were working their way down the corridor, likely drawn by the gunfire.

“That’s
too many. I only have a little lead left.” Hank said.

Tom
turned away from the monitor, looking down at Security Guy. “They are much
slower, but seem unaffected by body shots. We need more firepower.” He turned
toward Hank. “Just down the corridor is the entrance to the gun exhibit.”

“I’m
with you, how we gonna get there?”

On
the monitor, the undead were already beginning to cluster in the hall outside
their door. Unable to pinpoint where the noise came from, they slowly spread
out, meandering aimlessly. Rachael watched as they occasionally bumped into
each other, and then continued on in a different direction. “It’s like
chemistry class, where they show how gas molecules bounce around chaotically."

Walking
toward the door, Tom looked through the opening, and said, “Let’s see what's
behind the other two doors in this short hall.”

Standing
in the middle of the hall with a door to each side, Hank said, “Contestants,
would you like what’s behind door number one or door number two”?

Not
amused, Tom reached for one of the door handles. “Just cover me.”

Leatherman
in one hand, he twisted the door handle with the other and swung the door
inward. Inside was a small lounge room, with a table in the center and vending
machines, microwave, and coffee pot along one wall. With empty stomachs, they
all eyed the vending machine full of candy bars and little bags of chips.

“Let’s
check the other door first.” Tom said.

With
some grumbling from both Rachael and Hank, the trio went across the hall to the
other door. Opening the door out into the hall, they discovered a small
utility closet. Inside hung a bunch of security uniforms and jackets. Below
those sat a mid-sized safe.

Tom
began digging through the jackets. “How much you want to bet what we really
need is in that safe?”

Continuing
to look through the jackets as well as pants pockets, he came up with three
magazines for his pistol. Holding them up he said, “I'd also bet that’s
against policy. Behind the desk is another Glock. If we make our shots count
we have enough.”

After
a candy binge and some ammo re-arrangement, Tom and Hank kneeled in the
security room entrance, pistols pointing down the small hallway. Rachael
turned to make sure they were ready, and then opened the door to the service
corridor. Not looking to see what lay beyond, she turned and ran down the
short hall, squeezing between the boys. Shots rang out as they began firing
rhythmically down the hall, taking turns to avoid wasting shots on the same
targets.

Rachael
scooped up the rifle, and used the desk as a rest to aim down the hall. She did
not fire any shots, instead waiting, in case one of the boys ran out of ammo or
had their pistol jam. Trying to stay calm and breath as evenly as possible, the
reticle in her scope still vibrated with her shaking. She watched as one
undead after another entered through the doorway, only to be blasted and added
to the mounting pile of bodies.

After
a couple minutes of firing, no undead appeared in the opening. Neither Hank nor
Tom ever needed to switch to their half loaded magazine lying in front of them.

“Loading!”
Tom said while dropping his magazine. He quickly moved the last couple rounds
to his spare magazine and jammed it back into his Glock. “Ready.”

Hank
shouted “Loading” as well and began the same procedure Tom had just finished.
Part way through his reload another undead stepped into the doorway and Tom
dispatched it with a single round to the forehead. A couple seconds later, Hank
shouted “Ready.”

Both
of them breathed a sigh and stood when they heard Rachael yell from behind
them, “Hall is clear.” She was back at the desk looking at one of the security
monitors. Repeatedly clicking the mouse, she cycled through all the camera
feeds a few times. “I think we’re in the clear for now.”

Tom
was standing in front of a different monitor at the end of the desk when he
said, “Look at this.” The feed was of the front parking lot. Tall buildings
were surrounded by thick smoke. Orange flames could be seen in the distance.
“We have to get out of this city.”

“Yeah,
I’ve seen enough of Portland.” Hank said with his usual grin.

The
trio climbed past the pile of undead and headed down the corridor for the
exhibit at the end. Standing at the dark entryway Tom clicked on his
flashlight, dimly lighting the space just in front of them.

“You
two go ahead, I have an idea.” Hank said.

Turning
Hank’s way, Tom said, “Watch yourself…the cameras don’t cover everywhere.”

Tom
and Rachael stepped into the darkness and began looking through the booths for
good weapons. Between the flashlight and the dim ambient light, they were able
to work their way through the tables, getting an idea of what all was available.

Rachael
suddenly froze. “Hear that?”

Tom
nodded his head. There was a loud rumbling noise coming from the service
corridor. “It’s getting louder.” Shutting off the flashlight, he grabbed
Rachael’s arm and pulled her back behind one of the booths. The rumbling
increased until it sounded like it was right on top of them. Tom peeked over
the top of the booth, but all he could see was the silhouette of an enormous
object blocking most of the entryway to the corridor. The rumbling stopped,
followed by silence, and then there was a sudden blinding light.

“How’s
that!” A familiar voice shouted.

Tom
and Rachael stood, feeling a bit foolish, and walked up next to Hank, avoiding
the blinding light. “Look what you found.” Tom cheered as he recognized the
source of the loud rumbling and the lights. “I heard there were mogs at the
convention, just never had time to get to that exhibit.”

Familiar
with the Unimog, Tom knew they came from a nearly legendary line of
multi-purpose, four wheel drive trucks developed by Mercedes-Benz. They were often
used by militaries throughout the world because of their ultra-high clearance,
reliability, always on the ground wheel system, configurability, and all around
awesomeness.

“This
is no ordinary mog.” Hank said shaking his head. “Totally customized for
survival. High powered light bar on top.” He swept his arm out wide toward
the bright glow of the exhibit hall, and then looked back at the Unimog.
“Self-contained camper on the back, were talk’n kitchen, bathroom, shower,
potable water, air filtration system, generator, and a solar power system that
gives greenies wet dreams. Not only that, but this unit was sent to an outfit
in Cali to have the undercarriage and body armor plated. They put in hardened,
bullet proof glass as well.” Looking at Tom he said, “You and I know not
bullet proof, but bullet resistant, right?” He chuckled at that.

Tom
had to admit it looked totally badass. “You’re a genius. We can load this
thing up and cruise right out of here.” He looked up at the cab and patted one
of the huge tires. “Let’s do this. Rachael, can you climb up in the cab and keep
a watch, honk if you see anything?”

“Sure.”

Hank
and Tom spent the next half hour going through the gun exhibit room. When they
found something they liked they would shout it out, so they both had a full
mental inventory. Each firearm had a zip tie through the breach that they
would clip off before loading them in the back of the Unimog. Rummaging
through tables, they gathered as much ammo as they could.

Both
of them stood beside the Unimog. Smiling, Tom said, “Now that was fun.”

“Nearly
the most fun I’ve had all day.” Hank said with a laugh.

Tom
shut the back door on the camper and shoved the folding stairway back up under
the frame. “We’ve got a couple shotguns, a boat load of pistols, and a variety
of assault rifles. You’ve got the rifles you wanted, and I’ve got my new
baby.” Tom patted the shoulder strap of the high end military M4 he carried on
his back. “Setup with perfect customizations to boot.”

Shaking
his head, Hank replied with a grin, “You can stick with that Rambo shit, I’ll
take my precision rifles any day.”

During
their shopping spree, Tom had noticed nearly every weapon that Hank added to the
arsenal was one form of sniper rifle or another. Hank hadn’t said what his
previous life held; Tom had a guess, but figured it would likely all come out
sooner or later. He figured his life had been kept to himself as well, at
least for now.

The
trio used the same procedure to load up on medical supplies, food, water,
survival equipment, packs, and anything else they thought they might need for a
zombie apocalypse. None of them were sure what that required, but figured it
would be similar to any survival scenario, just tack on lots of weapons and
ammo.

Once
they had everything together and felt there was no more room in the Unimog, they
headed back to the security room. They were all happy to see the pile of
undead had not moved.

Leaning
on the desk Tom said, “Okay…before we go out there we need a plan. I’ll
start.” Sighing heavily he took a deep breath to steady himself, not wanting
to get emotional. “My family is up North of Spokane. We live out in the
country, but they’re alone. I have to get to them. That is my sole plan.”
Looking back up, he finished, “What about you guys?”

Hank
sat down on one of the chairs. “I never got around to having little ones…or a
wife for that matter. You’re stuck with me, unless I’m unwanted.”

Tom
simply nodded. Both of them looked to Rachael to see what her thoughts were.
This was the first time Tom really looked at her without fear racing through
him. He guessed she was in her mid-thirties, about his age, but he was really
terrible at guessing. She was not rail thin, having curves in the right
places, and must have worked to keep in shape. With her large brown eyes and
long blonde curls, there was no doubt she was an attractive woman.

“I’m…I’m
not with anyone or anything like that. No kids. I have distant family in
Montana and back East. I guess I’ve just been running, without thinking of
where I am going. I’m not really sure where I should go.” She was beginning
to tear up, likely thinking about the fate of loved ones.