The Fall of Society (The Fall of Society Series, Book 1) (26 page)

           
Hayward
reached down for his backpack at his feet, but it was out of his grasp by two
inches so he had to stretch to get it, which caused him terrible pain. He got
it, opened it, and pulled out a handgun and something else…

           
John
had mowed down half of the horde, but many of the ones that were cut in two by
the machine gun kept coming as legless creepy crawlers, and he was on top of it
as he swung the mini-gun left and right, up and down, blasting them all to
Hell, until—

           
The
mini-gun ran out of ammunition.

           
The
barrel kept spinning, but that’s all.

           
“Oh
shit!” John cursed at it.

           
John
grabbed his M-4 and intended to fight with that—

           
“John!”
Hayward shouted. “Go! You can’t do anything for me!”

           
John
turned to Hayward and saw that he had a pistol and a plastic explosive charge
sitting on the concrete pillar.

           
Hayward
had a detonator in his hand.

           
A
dead crawler climbed into the helicopter behind John, and Hayward shot it.

           
“Go,
man, I’ll be alright,” Hayward said with a bloody smile. “They’re not gonna get
me, I’ll be alright.”

           
John
didn’t want to leave him, that was clear in his eyes, but he looked out in the
street and saw more of them…

           
They
were coming from all over—the massive noise had attracted them.

           
He
still didn’t want to leave Hayward. They were good friends.

           
“Go,”
Hayward pleaded.

           
John
didn’t move.

           
“Go,
goddamnit!” Hayward shouted in blood-laced spit.

           
Reluctantly,
John left.

           
“I’ll
be alright,” Hayward said to himself as he clutched the detonator.

           
John
got to the middle of the street and fired at a dozen that came at him; his
weapon went empty and he had to reload, but a fast mover was almost on top of
him. He wasn’t going to be able to reload before it got to him, so he used the
rifle as blunt instrument and rammed the corpse’s face with the weapon’s butt
stock. He shouted in anger as he bashed it and killed it, but another one was
right on John, he had no time to react, until—

           
The
corpse’s head suddenly exploded from a silent rifle shot.

           
John
looked for the source and saw the sniper on the roof of the hospital—

           
It
was Anthony.

           
Anthony
repeatedly pointed to the roof of the building next to the hospital, which was
a storage center.

           
John
ran into that building…

           
Dozens
of the dead were on his tail…

           
But
many of them went for the chopper wreckage.

           
“Hey!
Where you dead bastards going?” Hayward shouted. “I’m right here! Come and get
me!”

           
Some
of the ones that were going after John stopped, and came toward the helicopter.
Hayward fired his pistol at the dead and then his gun went empty, so he readied
himself—

           
He
armed the detonator…

           
The
dead surrounded the helicopter…

           
He
defiantly held out the detonator to them…

           
Their
decaying arms reached in through the busted cockpit windows to get him…

           
Hayward
placed his finger on the button…

           
They
were in the back of the helicopter, inches from him…

           
He
smiled at them with absolutely no fear in his eyes…

           
A
dead female was closest, and it stretched its jaws with a growl to bite
Hayward’s face…

           
“Yeah,
fuck you, too!” He pressed the button.

           
The
wreckage exploded and ended Hayward’s pain, destroying dozens of the dead.

           
The
rest were going after John…

           
Hundreds
of them…

           
John
bolted through the storage office and out into a corridor. He ran down to the
end and found the stairwell. He went up, just as dozens of the stenches rammed into
the corridor after him.

           
He
just past the fourth floor and heard the dead gaining on him two floors below.

           
“Goddamn
stairs!” John said in frustration.

           
When
he got to the fifth floor landing, he glanced down in between the stairs and
saw them one floor beneath him. He took out a grenade and pulled its pin. He let
the safety release fly and placed the grenade on the floor. He continued
running up…

           
Four
seconds later, the dead reached the fifth floor, and the grenade exploded, taking
out several of them and slowing the rest.

           
John
made it to the roof and ran to the edge where the hospital was and looked
down—there was no alley in between the buildings, but it was still about
a twenty-foot gap to the hospital’s north wing, and the worst part—the
roof of the north wing was two stories lower than the roof John was on. Since
he was preoccupied, John didn’t hear the first fast mover coming at him from
behind—its head suddenly exploded from a silenced shot, it fell near John
and tumbled over the edge and went eight stories down—he saw that Anthony
saved him again from the hospital’s main roof.

           
John
had no choice—he strapped his weapon over his back and stepped back a
distance from the edge—

           
He
took a couple deep breaths…

           
The
dead burst out of the roof door just behind him…

           
John
broke into a sprint for the edge…

           
A
dozen undead ran after him…

           
Then
three dozen as more came…

           
He
hit the edge like a gymnast and launched himself off the roof…

           
Many
undead followed him and fell…

           
John
flew through the air in a descending arc with his arms and legs flailing…

           
To
Anthony, it didn’t look like he was going to make it…

           
John
slammed into the edge of the hospital’s roof with his chest and barely clung
on…

           
Anthony
slung his rifle over his back and ran to help him; he slid down the ladder to
get the north wing’s roof and ran as quickly as he could…

           
There
was nothing for John to hold on to; he was losing his grip…

           
His
gloved hands were
rasping
against the
top of the edge…

           
Sliding
back inch by inch to the drop off…

           
His
feet were kicking against the wall, but there was no footing…

           
John’s
chin scraped against the corner as he tried to lift himself, but his widened
eyes said that he was about to fall—Anthony grabbed his hand and saved
him. He pulled John up and he melted over the edge in exhaustion.

           
After
he caught some of his breath—“Thanks.”

           
“No
problem,” Anthony said.

           
“I
owe you one,” John extended his hand. “John Mandall.”

           
“Anthony
Rebollo.”

           
“You’re
a damn good shot, Anthony.”

           
“Thanks.”

           
“You
military?” John asked.

           
“No,
Olympic shooting team when I was a kid.”

           
“That’s
a nice weapon, may I?” John asked to examine it.

           
“Sure,”
Anthony said and handed his rifle over.

           
“You
have a lot of ammo for this thing?”

           
“Six
thousand, four hundred and thirty-two rounds,” Anthony said with a smile.

           
“Good,”
John said and he immediately took aim at the stenches that were looking at them
from the roof across the way—

           
He
fired and killed four of them in three seconds, four to the floor down below.

           
“Excellent
weapon,” he said and handed it back.

           
“I
should take you to meet the rest of us.”

           
“Okay,”
John said and got to his feet.

THE
NEWCOMER

O
utside the hospital windows
, the smoke from the missile strike and
the helicopter crash drifted up past the hospital wall. Everyone was in the
reception area, stunned from what just happened, and then Anthony appeared with
John.

           
“You
must be the guy from that helicopter?” Tom said.

           
“One
of them, yeah,” John said somberly.

           
“How’d
you get in here?” Alan asked.

           
“He
jumped from the roof of the building next door,” Anthony said proudly.

           
The
look on Joe’s face wasn’t of happiness. “Did you have to fire those missiles?
They almost hit our wall!”

           
John
was unapologetic. “Yeah, we did, and they didn’t hit your wall.”

           
“You
shouldn’t have fired them at all, now more of those things will come! And what
kind of landing was that, anyway?” Joe scoffed. “You’re a damn shitty pilot.”

           
John
got right up in Joe’s face. “We didn’t land, you idiot, we ran out of fuel, and
my best friend, the pilot, just died out there! So shut the fuck up, or I’ll
kill you where you stand.”

Joe stood quiet because he saw in his
eyes that John meant it.

           
Bear
stepped in to calm things down. “Hey, I’m Bear, that was a nice volley you did
on those things.”

           
John
didn’t move or take his eyes from Joe—he was ready to crack on him. “John
Mandall,” he said and then turned away from Joe. “Piece of shit,” John said under
his breath.

           
“I’m
Ardent Keller, and a man with your talents is welcome to stay, that is, if
you’re willing to help out and be part of the group?”

           
“Help
out with what, sir?”

           
“We’re
preparing to get out of here in a day or two,” Ardent told him.

           
“Preparing
to go where?”

           
“To
a ranch in Oregon.”

           
“That
sounds nice, but what if I don’t wanna go?”

           
“That’s
your choice, Son, but be advised, when we leave here…we’re blowing the back
gate of this place and those things will get in.”

           
“I
see,” John said and gave it some thought. “Then I guess I’m your man, sir.”

           
“Excellent,”
Ardent said. “You a soldier or a marine?”

           
“Marine?
Negative, sir. Army Ranger out of Fort Benning.”

           
“Fort
Benning?” Bear said. “How’s that fort doing?”

           
“Since
I’m here and not there,” John said, “not good. It’s gone, along with every
other base in the country.”

           
Lauren
was at the back of the group, she took a long look at John, and he noticed her
looking, but ignored her.

           
“So,
this back gate that you’re gonna exit through—what are you leaving in?”
John asked.

           
“A
boat,” Tom said.

           
“In
the channel behind the hospital?” John said.

           
“That’s
right,” Derek said.

           
“Is
it deep enough?” John asked.

           
“We
hope so,” Bear said.

           
“Hope?”
John said. “There’s a word I haven’t heard in a while.”

           
“Well,
that’s all we got,” Bear said.

           
“Why
not leave now?” John asked. “Why wait a day or two?”

           
“We’re
in the middle of fixing the boat’s motors,” Ardent told him. “We might be done
today or tomorrow, at the latest.”

           
“Okay,
sir,” John said and walked off.

           
“Where
you going?” Bear asked him.

           
“To
check the perimeter.”

           
“It’s
secure,” Tom told him.

           
John
kept on walking. “You know that, but I don’t.”

           
He
was gone out the front doors.

           
“We’re
just gonna let this guy in here?” Alan said. “He’s gonna want to use our
supplies and—”

           
“Shut
up, Alan!” Tom said.

           
John
looked at Tom’s eighteen-wheeler as he walked by on his way to the front gate.
He examined the way the gate had been reinforced and decided that was fine and
moved on, but not before he flipped-off the undead just outside the gate. He
walked along the hospital wall, starting on the south side, checking it for weaknesses
and stress cracks, but he didn’t see any. When he got to the wall near the side
of the hospital, though, something caught his attention close to the wall: the cigar-shaped
thirty-feet-long by ten-feet-wide sinkhole he stood in that was pointed toward
the front wall. John looked at it closely, and then he stuck a knife in the
ground at the edge of it, the edge that was pointed at the front wall. He moved
on to the back of the hospital.

           
There
was a seven-foot tall metal security gate on the side of the hospital that
separated the front courtyard from the back parking lot and it was locked
tight, so John climbed it easily, military-style, and proceeded toward the back.

           
Ardent
and Bear were back at the boat, trying to finish up the first motor. They saw
John walking the wall, and Bear gave him the eye. “Do you think we can trust that
guy?” Bear asked.

           
“I
wouldn’t worry about him,” Ardent said.

           
“Really?
Why not?”

           
“Look
at him…” Ardent said. “He’s a soldier, a lifer. He’s like us—honorable.”

           
“Yeah,
I guess,” Bear said as he watched John look at the explosive charges on the
back gate.

           
John
made his way to them. “This is the boat, huh?”

           
“This
is it,” Ardent answered as he tightened a bolt on the engine.

           
“If
it’s all the same to you, sir,” John said, “I’ll swim alongside you than be in
this rusted piece of shit.”

           
“It’s
all we got, soldier,” Ardent said.

           
“Is
the hull intact?” John asked.

           
“It
is.”

           
“How’s
the engine work coming?”

           
“Good,
we should be done with this one in an hour or two,” Bear informed him.

           
“You
need any help?” John offered.

           
“We’re
fine, John, thanks,” Ardent said.

           
“So
who did the explosives job on the gate?” John asked.

           
“I
did,” Bear said. “Why?”

           
“I
know I’m the new guy, but we need to be prepared if those things get in here
before we’re ready to leave,” John said.

           
“True,
what are you thinking?” Ardent asked.

           
“Do
you have any more explosives?”

           
“Tom
is the man to see about that,” Bear told him.

           
“Tom?”

           
“The
guy wearing the baseball cap,” Bear said. “The trailer in front of the hospital
is his.”

           
“Okay,”
John answered and walked off to check the rest of the wall.

           
On
the other side of the hospital, John had to scale a second security gate to get
to the front again, and as he walked between the outer wall and the wall of the
north wing—a scent caught his attention—he looked up the wall of
the north wing; there were a few small windows twenty feet off the ground, all
of which were closed, and then John saw a door ahead of him. He tried it, but
it was locked tight. He took some
whiffs
at the door—he smelled something, but he wasn’t sure as to what it was.
He dismissed it for now and moved on to check out the rest of the outer wall. Once
he finished and was satisfied that it was secure, he headed to Tom’s trailer.

           
Tom
was working on a set of the PVC armor when John approached. “Hey, you’re Tom,
right?”

           
“Guilty
as charged, John. How can I be of service?”

           
“The
guys told me that you’re the man to see about explosives,” John said as he
looked at everything in Tom’s trailer. “And judging by what I’m looking at, it
seems true.”

           
Tom
smiled. “Yeah, it is. What do you need?”

           
“We
need to be ready if those things get in here before we leave,” John explained.
“So if you can spare some, I’d like to set up a grid of explosives in the back
of the hospital.”

           
“Smart
idea. Come aboard.”

           
John
followed Tom to the explosive cabinet, he opened it and John saw what he had,
which was a lot, including what John wanted—claymore anti-personnel mines.
“Outstanding,” John said.

           
“Take
what you need,” Tom offered.

           
“Thank
you, sir.”

           
Tom
laughed. “Don’t call me ‘sir,’ John. I’m not in the military, and I’m not your
father. Just call me ‘Tom.’”

           
“Okay,
Tom. Thanks.”

           
John
gathered what he needed, which was a crate of landmines, remote detonator caps,
and a remote detonator for them. Anthony was playing video games in his room
when he heard John and came out.

           
“John,
would you like a set of this PVC armor? It protects you against any scratches
or bites from those things,” Anthony offered.

           
“Sure,
kid, maybe later.”

           
“Don’t
worry, I’ll make it for you,” Anthony said.

           
“Cool,
thanks.” John said. “Hey, do you wanna help me set up these claymores?”

           
“Hell
yes!”

           
“Let’s
go then.” John said.

• • •

           
A
while later in the midmorning sun, John and Anthony were setting up the
claymores in the back parking lot. They had placed a row of six mines along the
back of the hospital, at about twenty-five feet apart and fifteen feet from the
building. The explosive charges were faced toward the hospital. They were
finishing the last one and John was tutoring Anthony. “Okay, you watched me do
the first five, now you do the next one,” John said.

           
“No
problem.”

           
Anthony
grabbed a mine and unfolded the mounting scissor legs; he inserted the
explosive into the ground until it was firmly secure. After that, he adjusted
the mine to make sure that it was pointed properly for the optimal damage, and
finally, he activated the remote cap in the detonator well.

           
He
was done.

           
“How’s
that?” he asked John.

           
He
checked his work, “Nicely done, better than most recruits that I’ve seen.”

           
“Awesome,”
Anthony said with a smile.

           
Then
they heard Ardent and Bear trying to turn over the boat motor that they had
reassembled. It sputtered dead on the first try, and then Bear tried the
ignition again. The engine stuttered as Bear held the key in place and finally,
the engine roared to life, they had fixed it. Something else also roared to
life—the infected outside the back gate were going nuts over the engine
noise. Dozens of them began pounding on the gate.

           
Ardent
heard them. “Kill it, Bear.”

           
Bear
turned the engine off and the noise of the dead took over.