The Fall of Society (The Fall of Society Series, Book 1) (23 page)

THE
NEXT DAY

T
he dead sun had just broken the flesh of
the horizon
, it rays weaved
across the land like the infected veins of a corpse’s eye. The undead were
fewer now outside the hospital and instead of four or five thousand; it boiled
down to three or four. Without something to kill, they wondered as ants did without
a chemical trail to follow. The mental facility was quiet at this early hour;
most of them were still asleep, except for Ardent and Bear. They were in the
back of the hospital as they worked on the boat motors.

           
They
had the first motor disassembled and the parts spread out on a folding table as
they cleaned all of them meticulously. They had a bucket full of used motor oil
to lubricate the parts as they finished cleaning each one. The source of the
oil was one of the nearby employee cars that they liberated the precious
lubricant from. They had just finished an inventory of all the parts. “How we
looking, Captain?” Bear said.

           
Ardent
gave him a serious look. “Don’t call me that.”

           
“Yes,
sir,” Bear said, and he knew why. “But how we looking?”

           
“Well,
so far, so good. I don’t see any missing parts. Except for this accelerator
cable that’s frayed, but we can replace it from one of those cars.”

           
“Yeah,
I saw that,” Bear said and produced a cable in his hand. “So I already got
one.”

           
“Good,
so everything looks ready,” Ardent said as he scratched the back of his neck. “Let’s
put it back together and pray that it works.”

           
They
got to work on the reassembly…

• • •

           
An
hour had passed, and then Tom and Anthony showed up to see how Bear and Ardent
were doing. “Good morning,” Tom said.

           
Tom
had his own set of the PVC pipe armor on.

           
“Morning,”
Bear said. “You got Alan to make you some armor, too, huh?”

           
“No,
sir, made it myself,” Tom answered.

           
“It
does look nicer than ours,” Bear noted.

           
“Tom,
thought you’d still be asleep after taking watch last night,” Ardent said to
him.

           
“Nah,
give me a couple hours sleep and I’m right as rain,” Tom replied.

           
“How’s
it going with the motors?” Anthony asked looking at the first motor that was
almost completely put together.

           
“It’s
coming along,” Bear said. “We should have this one finished by lunchtime, if
everything goes well, then we’ll start on the second one.”

           
“That’s
good news,” Tom said. “But I wanted to talk you about the escape plan.”

           
“Okay,
what about it?” said Ardent.

           
“The
way I see it, the most important aspect of it is getting through that back gate
as quickly as possible,” Tom said as he pointed to the rear gate of the
employee parking.

           
“Yeah,
that’s true,” Ardent agreed.

           
“So
the best way to do that is to blow that gate to Hell,” Tom said.

           
“Great
idea, but I’m all out of explosives; I used the last that I had to blow the
shit out of your sewer tunnel,” Bear said with a smile.

           
“I
have some,” Tom said.

           
Bear’s
smile widened.

           
At
the front of the hospital, in the courtyard, as Tom, Anthony and Ardent’s group
were at Tom’s eighteen-wheeler truck. Tom unlocked the heavy padlock on the
trailer doors and opened her up. Bear smiled even harder at what he saw inside—the
entire trailer was a doomsday prepper’s wet dream—it was converted into a
survivalist’s workshop filled with dozens of weapons of various shapes and
sizes that sat in racks in the walls, along with a couple hundred military
boxes of ammunition stacked under the guns, and equipped also with machines for
working on metal and various other tools. In the very back of the trailer were
what looked like dozens of boxes of food and some sleeping compartments. Tom
pushed a hidden button on the trailer and a set of stairs extended out for them
to enter.

           
“Mi
casa su casa,” Tom said.

           
They
climbed aboard for a tour.

           
“Wow,
would you look at that,” Lauren said

           
“I
have over eighty-five weapons and 60,000 rounds of ammo in here,” Tom said
proudly. “I have just about every tool a gunsmith would need to fix or make a
weapon from scratch, two sleeping compartments, a toilet and a shower, but no
water to spare for the shower, unfortunately, so I have ammo stored in it. There’s
a two-year food supply, not counting the shitty MREs that are in the very back
of the trailer. I have six months’ worth of fresh water, give or take. I’ve got
a couple hundred batteries, solar panels, including some on top of the trailer that
powers it, and plenty of rechargeable batteries. Uh, that’s about it, I think.”

           
Bear
sang, “And a partridge in a pear tree.”

           
“Goddamn,
where’s the Xbox?” Derek joked.

           
“In
my room,” Anthony said.

           
“No?”
Derek said.

           
“Wanna
play ‘Call of Duty?’” Anthony offered.

           
“Dude,
yes! I will own you!” Derek said.

           
“Let’s
go,” Anthony said.

           
Derek
followed him into his room and they were out of sight, a moment later—the
sound of the Xbox powering-up was heard.

           
“Sweet!”
Derek exclaimed.

           
“A
little paranoid, are we?” Ardent said to Tom.

           
“Shoot,
there’s people that thought they were prepared and then there’s ‘prepared,’”
Tom said as he pointed to his supplies with both hands.

           
“God
bless you,” Bear told him.

           
“The
construction business has done you well,” Ardent said.

           
“Yes,
sir, it has and when this shit blows over, and we build the world again, I’m gonna
be there,” Tom bragged. “Oh, Bear, the explosives are in those cabinets.” Tom
pointed.

           
Bear
walked over to them. “Locked up, Tom. Can you open it?”

           
“The
combination is
kaboom
,” Tom said.

           
“Dash
or no dash?” Bear asked.

           
“Dash?”
Tom wondered.

           
“You
know, between ‘ka’ and ‘boom,’ dash or no dash?”

           
“Oh,
no dash.”

           
Bear
typed the code into the keypad and opened the cabinets and his jaw
dropped—there were every kind of explosive that you could think of for
war.

           
“God
bless you,” Bear repeated under his breath.

           
“Take
what you need for the back gate,” Tom told him.

           
Bear
collected a couple pounds of plastic explosives and a few remote-activated
blasting caps; he was as happy as a kid with firecrackers and sang a little as
he picked items from the cabinet. “Heaven…I’m in Heaven!”

           
“You’re
part of our group now, right?” Tom asked Ardent. “What I mean is, is that we’re
really gonna leave here together, correct?”

           
“Yes,
we are, Tom,” Ardent said genuinely. “You have my word on that.”

           
“Okay
then,” Tom said and seemed more at ease. “How’s your group doing on ammo?”

           
“We’re
okay.”

           
“That
didn’t sound very convincing, Ardent,” Tom stated. “So why don’t all of you
help yourselves to my supplies and stock up.”

           
“That’s
very generous, Tom, but are you sure?”

           
“I
wouldn’t have said it otherwise,” Tom answered.

           
“Okay,
thank you,” Ardent said and then addressed his group. “Hey guys, Tom here is
nice enough to give us some of his ammo, so go ahead and restock your personal
supplies.”

           
“Thanks,
Tom,” Milla said.

           
“Appreciated,
Tom, where are the AK rounds?” Lauren asked.

           
“Second
stack from the back,” he told her.

           
Bear
gathered the explosives that he needed, but then he saw some grenades, he couldn’t
resist, so he grabbed one and put it in his pocket. After which, he left the
trailer. “Very cool, Tom. Thanks.”

           
“You’re
welcome.”

           
“I’m
gonna go rig the back gate,” Bear said to Ardent.

           
“Alright,”
Ardent answered.

           
Bear
left some tunes as he walked away. “Heaven…I’m in Heaven…”

           
They
all got ammunition for themselves and didn’t waste any time reloading all their
empty magazines right there and then.

           
“Tom,
you wouldn’t happen to have some batteries for my weapon’s red dot sight, would
you?” Ardent asked.

           
“Uh…yeah.”
Tom said and he looked at Ardent’s riflescope, it was battered from hard use. “But
I got something better.”

           
Tom
went to a drawer, pulled out a brand new scope in the box, and handed it to
Ardent.

           
“Brand
new military-grade scope, it’s the newest generation of optics,” Tom said.

           
“I
can’t take this, Tom; you’ve already given us a lot.”

           
“Sure
you can, I have twenty-six of ’em. The batteries are in the same drawer.”

           
“I’m
grateful.”

           
“No
problem. You need a tool to install it?”

           
“No,
I have one, thanks,” Ardent said.

           
Milla
looked toward the back, where Anthony’s sleeping compartment was, she heard the
telltale sounds of Anthony and Derek playing Xbox. “Derek?” she called to him.

           
The
game paused and Derek popped his head out. “Yeah, baby?”

           
“I
need your help, come here, please.”

           
“Baby…I’m
Xboxing here.”

           
She
held up a box of ammo and shook it. “Fresh bullets.”

           
“Ooh!”
he looked back to Anthony. “I’ll be right back.” He went to Milla to load up.

THE
THIRSTY BIRD

D
owntown L.A. was a place of petrified
towers
—ruins
frozen in time and atop a forty-story sliver was Hayward’s Black Hawk. It had
landed on the helipad of the luxury residential building during the night. The
building was in a pricey part of Wilshire Boulevard that was now a not so
pricey piece of dead real estate. The undead wandered all over the streets around
the building; it was business of death as usual. The building lobby was
barricaded with furniture and anything else that could be used to make a wall,
so maybe there were still some survivors inside. No one was on the roof with
the dormant helicopter; they were down in the building somewhere…

           
The
tenant parking was located directly beneath the residential floors, above
ground and on the fifth level of parking, was where Hayward, John, and the
three soldiers that hitched a ride with them had gone. Briggs and his two
companions had commandeered one of the vehicles, a truck, from one of the many
in the circular parking levels. The three rogue soldiers were in the middle of
siphoning gas from the tanks of the other cars to fill the truck’s tank. Fifty
feet away, by the elevator landing—John and Hayward were talking with
three tenants from the building, two men and a woman. The younger man had a
small revolver in his hand. They didn’t like what was going on. “Look, I really
don’t care about the truck and the gas you’re taking—” the older man said.

Hayward cut him off. “No, me and John
aren’t with them.”

           
“But
they came in the helicopter with you,” the woman said.

           
“I
had no choice,” Hayward told her.

           
“Okay,
fine, you’re not with them,” the older man continued. “But your friends are
gonna get all of us killed! It doesn’t look like there’s that many outside, but
the moment they hear noise—hundreds of them will come out from
everywhere!”

           
John
and Hayward knew this.

           
“Briggs?”
John called to him, but he didn’t hear, as he was too busy plundering for gas. “Briggs!”
John called louder.

           
“What?”

           
“I
don’t think that this is such a good idea.”

           
“Why
not?”

           
“Why
do you think? If you drive down there—you’re gonna make noise. If you
open the gate to leave—you’re gonna make more noise, and noise attracts
those things.”

           
Briggs
was frustrated. “Then what do you want us to do, man? Wait around this fucking
place? These people have no food or water for all of us! They’re already dead,
and they don’t even know it!” Briggs pointed to the tenants, especially the one
with the gun. “Yeah, you! So what, John? What’s your big plan, huh?” Briggs
pointed up to the roof. “The bird is low on fuel, there’s probably not even
enough to take off again with all of us onboard!”

           
“Let’s
just calm down and think it through,” Hayward said.

           
Briggs’
friends stopped what they were doing and stood by him.

           
“Calm
down?” Briggs said. “And then what? We’ll make some food and water appear out
of thin fucking air? And after that, what, let’s make some chopper fuel from
piss!”

           
“Relax,
Briggs,” John said. “Let’s try to think of a better way to leave.”

           
“What
do you think we’ve been doing all morning?” Lee said. “We’re taking that truck
and we’re leaving, with or without you guys.” She looked at John and tried to
read his eyes.

           
“That’s
my truck,” said the tenant with the revolver.

           
Lee
flipped the safety off on her M-4, along with Briggs and the other soldier. “Oh
yeah, you gonna stop me with your grandpa’s wheel gun?” she said defiantly.

           
“Okay,
let’s take it easy, everyone,” Hayward cautioned.

           
“Just
go then,” John said to them.

           
“As
if there were any doubt of that,” Briggs spat.

           
“What’re
you doing?” the older tenant asked John.

           
“Let
them go, it’s not worth getting killed over,” John told him.

           
The
three rogue soldiers finished gathering the gasoline they wanted and jumped
into their stolen truck. Briggs started its engine.

           
Lee
locked eyes with John and mouthed,
come
with us?

           
John
shook his head,
no
.

           
“You
sure you don’t wanna come with us?” Briggs said from behind the wheel.

           
“Send
us a postcard from Mexico,” John answered.

           
Briggs
smirked. “Okay then, asshole.” he drove away.

           
The
truck stopped at the exit and entrance of the parking structure because both
solid-steel rollup doors were closed. One of the soldiers jumped out of the
truck and pulled on the chain to open it and it made a loud
clack-click-clack
as it rolled up. Once
it was fully open, it revealed the corkscrew driveway that led down to the
outer exit gate. The soldier got back in the truck, and they slowly drove down.
They didn’t bother closing the gate.

           
“Fucking
idiots,” the tenant with the revolver said.

           
“Look,
we’re gonna follow them down to make sure that everything goes well and close
the outer gate,” John said to the tenants.

           
“Okay,
thanks,” the older man said.

           
“Don’t
close this gate until we get back,” Hayward said.

           
John
and Hayward jogged down after the truck; they had five levels of corkscrew to
descend, when they got to the third, they heard them opening the garage exit
gate, the loud
clack-clack
echoed
throughout the concrete. By the time they got down to the last turn of the
corkscrew—they could see the truck waiting at the gate just below them and
the soldier that was pulling the chain to raise the mesh-paneled door. The
noise had already attracted several slow dead movers. Once the dead saw the soldier
pulling the chain, they moved as fast as they could to get to him and the gate wasn’t
even three feet up yet. Several of the dead were already at the gate, they
would get in the moment it was high enough, and the soldiers knew it.

           
That’s
when Lee exited the truck and readied her weapon—she quickly took aim at
the first walking corpse. “No, use your bayonet!” John yelled.

           
It
was too late; she fired through the gate and killed the walker. Her weapon
echoed loudly, and it alerted every dead thing in the area. Many of them came
out from nearby alleys, stores, some sitting in cars, the dead rose from all
over and headed for the gate, including a lot of fast movers. Before they could
react, dozens were suddenly banging on the gate in a rage.

           
“Close
the gate! Close it!” John shouted down.

           
The
soldier at the chain reversed his pull to close it, but it was no use, the gate
didn’t close fast enough as the rabid fast movers clawed their way under and
got in. The two soldiers began to fire at the dead, and then Briggs, who was
still behind the truck’s wheel, put it in reverse and backed up. Before they
knew it, dozens of the dead were there and fighting to get in. The gate buckled
from the force of the dead cramming under it and it gave way and fell off its tracks.

           
All
of them rushed into the building freely.

           
“Oh
fuck!” Hayward cursed.

           
“Run!”
John shouted to Lee.

           
The
two soldiers were overtaken and torn to shreds.

           
“Lee!
No!” John shouted in anger, and he fired down at the stenches attacking her,
but she was beyond saving.

           
The
dead saw John and Hayward above them…

           
Briggs
floored the accelerator and backed up the driveway at full speed. The truck
violently banged back and forth against the concrete walls with dozens of the
dead chasing after it. John and Hayward could do nothing but watch as the dead overran
the truck, they broke through all the windows to get at Briggs, who was firing
his weapon at them, but it didn’t help. They grabbed him from both sides of the
truck and ripped pieces of him out.

           
John
grabbed a grenade off his belt, pulled the pin and chucked it down the
driveway, and then he tossed a second one. The grenades rolled down as the dead
ran up and they passed each other. The first one reached the truck and went
off, the explosion ripped the truck’s gas tank and added to the fiery blast,
thus blocking the driveway with fire. The second one went off and destroyed
five of the undead. The corpses didn’t care about the fire as they ran through
it to get in.

           
“Let’s
go!” John shouted.

           
They
ran back up for their lives.

           
Hayward
tossed back two grenades himself as they ran—they reached the running
stenches and blew many apart, but dozens more kept running up after them. They
were only one level behind John and Hayward. They reached the top of the
corkscrew to see the solid-steel door rolling down a hundred feet ahead of them—the
tenants were closing it, including the woman.

           
“Wait!”
Hayward shouted.

           
The
tenants saw them but didn’t care—they closed the gate and locked it
tight.

           
“Motherfuckers!”
Hayward shouted and fired a few rounds at the door.

           
The
bullets pierced it, but didn’t hit any of them; they heard the tenants run off.

           
“Cover
me, John!” Hayward said.

           
John
turned around, checked his weapon to make sure it was ready and waited for the
dead to reach them; they were running up fast and would be there in moments…

           
Hayward
grabbed a sawed-off shotgun that was strapped to his back and fired two shells
into the door—it blasted a basketball-sized hole in the steel and then he
got one grenade from his pocket. “John, gimme a grenade!”

           
John
tossed him another one and Hayward pulled the pins on both of them, dropped
them into the hole in the gate and ran away.

           
“Fire
in the hole!” he yelled.

           
A
moment later—the grenades exploded and blasted the gate open, large
enough for them to get through.

           
“Let’s
go!” Hayward yelled to John.

           
They
squeezed through the opening, just as the undead reached them. John turned back
and sprayed the hole with automatic gunfire—it killed three of them, and
the bodies blocked the hole, but only temporarily as the dead tore their way through
the bodies to get in.

           
John
and Hayward ran like bats out of Hell, and seconds later—the dead got
through the hole and dozens chased after them.

           
The
two soldiers were breathing like wild animals as they sprinted up the circular
parking levels and not far behind them—the dead were coming for
them—dozens that grew into a couple hundred; like the teeth of a ravenous
animal, they were rising to bite them. John and Hayward ran to a stairwell door
that had a
ROOF ACCESS
sign on it.
They closed the door behind them, but it had no lock, and they had nothing to
brace it with. The only luck they had with the door is that it opened outward
from the inside, so it would hold the dead out for a while, but just how long,
was unknown.

           
They
didn’t wait to find out as the dead banged up against the door and pounded on
it fiercely to get in, the door definitely wouldn’t last long. They had another
twenty floors to go up. Hayward fell behind, he was exhausted, and it got to
the point where he stopped and sat on the stairs to catch his breath. John came
back down for him. “Come on, man!” John urged him.

           
“I
need a break,” Hayward said in between breaths. “Just a minute.”

           
“We
don’t have a minute, Hayward, let’s go!”