The Hungry 5: All Hell Breaks Loose (The Sheriff Penny Miller Series) (20 page)

From upstairs came a Greek chorus of voices bleating that desperate
Uhh-hunnhh! Uhh-hunnhh!

“Get us out of here,” Miller said.

Charlie started jogging again, moving the group deeper into the dark corridor. They all followed, but their passage made way too much of a racket for Miller’s taste. They were in zombie country now, down where Charlie had said the albinos liked to hang out. Just like Scratch said there would be. Attracting more from below seemed like a piss poor idea that could get them all stuffed in an undead sandwich. They had no choice but to trust Charlie, at least for the moment. They couldn’t go back, and there was no other way out. They needed that car.

Miller jogged. Her face was dripping sweat. The others moved briskly, sticking close together, eyeing the eerie darkness ahead. The cement had a strange odor to it down here. It smelled like zombies and rat piss. There were spider webs dangling everywhere.

Charlie led them to the underground entrance to the parking lot. He pushed the security door open carefully, but it still squealed like something out of an old horror film. They all stood in a tight bunch, and stayed perfectly still. Everyone was breathing heavily. Miller could smell the fear. She was determined to get them all out safely and would just have to deal with Charlie later. Hell, maybe she’d let Scratch kill him.

Reaching back, Charlie took the lantern from Rolf and shined it into the dark, still parking garage. The rows of cars and trucks waited silently. They were all dusty and a lot of tires had started to go flat. Charlie studied the garage for a time before moving again. He seemed satisfied. He walked a few steps and pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket.

Charlie held up the light. He used it to sweep the immediate area. Still, all Miller saw were the long rows of dusty parked cars and a few skeletons here and there, just bones picked clean by the rats.

“All clear,” Charlie whispered. He opened the entrance door fully, crouched low and went off into the darkness with his flashlight. A broad white beam lit up the garage and shrank down again as he trotted further away. He’d left them behind with no warning.

Miller hesitated and did not follow. Their lights weren’t strong enough. She worried the others would get separated in the dark. She did not like giving Charlie a big lead, because he might take it into his head to drive off alone, and she had her people to think about. She had no idea where these albino zombies were coming from, Charlie had said underground, and so the parking garage was just as likely a candidate as anywhere. Maybe this had all been planned from the get go. Had Charlie led them into a trap?

“Hold up there, Charlie,” Miller called, finally. “Whoa. Come back.”

Silence.

Miller and Scratch exchanged worried looks. Sheppard shrugged and Rat shook her head. She agreed that they shouldn’t follow.

“Charlie?” Miller called. “Charlie?”

“Hey,” Charlie shouted back at long last. His booming voice echoed through the garage. To Miller’s relief, he was coming back for them. His footsteps stepped closer. “Check this out, Penny. It’s snowing underground.”

Miller said, “What?”

Charlie used his flashlight to illuminate a nearby corner. He was dead right. There was snow everywhere. Snow? In a parking garage? Miller thought it was the damnedest thing she’d ever seen. And then common sense prevailed. How could snow have gotten down here, and why wouldn’t it have melted long ago? It had to be fake. As Charlie examined the mounds of white, his flashlight passed over a tall sound boom, a large black camera mounted on tripod and some expensive looking video equipment. Then Miller saw the stack of brightly wrapped presents.

“It’s a movie set,” Scratch said. He moved away from Shirley to stand right beside Miller. “Maybe the hotel was doing a holiday commercial when the shit hit the fan.”

Sheppard said, “Sure looks that way.”

Charlie finally came back into view. He was walking briskly and grinning hugely and whistling
Jingle Bells
. Miller felt relieved. Part of her hadn’t expected to see him again. He didn’t run away and leave them behind after all. Charlie switched to humming
Silent Night
. He stopped near a pickup truck. He stood there, half in the open, still holding the flashlight. “Are you guys coming, or what?”

Miller felt uneasy but didn’t know why. “Hang on a second.”

Charlie waved his other arm in frustration. He used the light to point right. “Come on, Penny, we don’t have time to take a vote. Get your ass in gear. The truck is right over there.”

Miller wanted to follow, but instinct won out. She held her arm up and kept her people back. “Charlie, where is it exactly?”

Charlie turned and again pointed to his right. He was in the darkness near a cement pillar, only a few yards from the huge piles of fake snow.

Dudley growled low and wet in his chest. Miller and Sheppard and Scratch all called out a warning. “Run, Charlie, run!”

Too late. A worried look crossed Charlie’s face. He started to say something but couldn’t. His body began to tremble. His arm dropped to his side. His eyes got very wide. Then he stiffened and gave off a high pitched, horrible shriek of agony that echoed all the way through the dark parking garage and bounced back again. The ground seemed to shake from the noise.

The big man trembled and shook as he screamed but he did not manage to take a single step. Miller felt the others crowd in behind her as they waited in the doorway. Poor Charlie’s cries rose in volume and pitch. He batted away at his lower body like a man in a pool of piranhas. Everyone finally looked down just as Charlie finally managed to move. He stumbled into the lantern light. He had been bitten several times. A very short zombie in a jolly green and red costume, complete with silly hat and pointed ears, was busily chewing on his right leg.

Charlie finally snapped out of the trance. He sprayed the zombie elf with the last of his extinguisher, but it didn’t let go of his leg, or even flinch away. It was too busy feeding. Miller noticed that it didn’t appear to be one of the albinos, for whatever that was worth. It looked more like a human child turned zombie. Jesus, it had rosy Christmas cheeks painted on its little face.

“Stay here.” Miller ran out into the garage and kicked the thing hard. It finally let go of Charlie’s leg, but unfortunately also took a large chunk of his calf with it as it sailed away. Rolf disobeyed Miller and moved into the dark garage. Dudley followed his master. Rolf fired at the creature and nailed it through the brain. The noise was piercingly loud. The group followed Rolf and crowded around Charlie. Scratch kicked pointlessly at the fallen elf. Still in shock, Miller started wondering where the hell the little bastard had come from.

“I’m fucked,” observed Charlie. He was seated on the cement floor, twitching and bleeding out.

“Shit! Damn it, Charlie, we needed you for later on,” Miller said.
We have to get the hell out of here…

“Dead by elf bite, for Christ’s sake. That’s pathetic,” Charlie said with a dark grimace. He clutched at his leg but could not slow the bleeding. They all knew it would be better to let him die, but no one said a word.

“Well, we’re all dead now, if you don’t show us this truck of yours,” said Miller. “Maybe Sheppard can figure out how we can help you once we get out of here.”

“Help me? How would you do that, exactly?” Despite the pain, Charlie’s eyes went all crafty. He was still looking for an angle.

The bastard is bargaining.
Miller grabbed him by the shoulder. He groaned and she lightened her grip. “Charlie, for once in your life just do something good for someone else. I need to get my people out of here. There will probably be more of them.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Where is the damn truck?” Miller said those last four words slowly, as if he was hard of hearing. The noises above them continued. The albinos upstairs were closing the distance. That sound was drifting down the stairwell,
unhhh hunhhh…

Charlie pointed with his flashlight. Scratch held up the big lantern. The two beams merged. They all looked. In the far corner sat a mid-sized red shuttle van, the kind found at an airport. The way over to it seemed clear, but who knew? Nothing was sure down here but death and zombies.

“Where are the keys?”

“The keys are in it, Penny,” Charlie moaned. “Screw that rotten little bastard. Goddamn this hurts.”

They could hear shambling footsteps moving down to the garage level. The albino horde was closing fast.

“All right, people,” Miller said. She grabbed Charlie’s flashlight and held it up. “Stay sharp. Let’s get to that truck, and get the fuck out of here. Sheppard, Scratch, you two bring Charlie’s ass along.”

Rat said, “Penny, you sure about that?”

“Just do it.”

Sheppard and Scratch grabbed Charlie and held him under the arms. They dragged him toward the truck. His leg twisted on the cement. He screamed once and passed out. Miller moved the small group through the parking garage at a dead run. They couldn’t see worth a damn. Scratch let go of Charlie, and he and Rat automatically fanned out to protect their flanks. Rolf brought up the rear, with Dudley at his side. Shirley stood over Charlie, looking stricken and otherwise useless. They made good time, but to Miller it felt like they were racing through a vat of molasses.

And then Miller caught some movement in the dark, between two parked cars. “Scratch, look out.”

Something short and squat was scurrying toward them. Alerted, Scratch shot it in the head, and the little thing went down hard. Miller caught another glimpse of a green costume of some kind, and that silly hat. Whatever the difference between the albino zombies and the normal ones were, these appeared to be more like the ones they’d had experience with. They were obviously actors in whatever had been filming here when the plague struck. They’d been bitten and turned while in costume. Where the hell were they all coming from?

“What’s with the little green men?” demanded Scratch, as if reading her mind. “What did we do in a past life to deserve this, fuck a reindeer?”

Miller opened her mouth to fire off a smart-assed retort, but closed it just as quickly. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The whole thing was just absurd. Her mind tilted and went a bit crazy. They ran past the largest pile of fake snow and the camera gear and finally got near the van. Miller went tense inside. She could smell the undead closing in now, trying to keep them from reaching the van. The zombies seemed to sense where Miller and her people were headed. They were preparing to attack. The dry darkness gave them cover.

“Incoming!” Miller shouted.

Several zombies came toward them and this time in a tightly knit group. Brandon held up his lantern. Shirley whimpered as the fresh nightmare came into view, but Miller once again fought down an urge to giggle at the absurdity of their situation. One tall zombie came toward them with his arms up, drooling and staggering, apparently leading all the rest. He was surrounded by about a half dozen short ones dressed as elves.

The big one was tall and fat and dressed in red and white. A zombie Santa, complete with a flowing white beard and a pointy hat with a white ball of cotton sitting at the very top. He’d been the star of the show, no doubt about that.

Shirley screamed out loud, but Scratch and Rat, also on complete emotional overload, exploded into laughter.

“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” said Scratch.

“This sure doesn’t look like a very merry Christmas,” Rat snickered, “or a silent night for that matter.”

Sheppard let go of Charlie’s arm. Charlie sagged down to the cement.

“Penny, this is bizarre.” Sheppard shook his head. “They must have been down here starving all this time.” He raised his weapon to shoot Santa in the brain. The weapon clicked benignly. “Uh, I’m out.”

“Me, too,” Rat said. The situation stopped being funny in a hurry.

Scratch threw the M-4 on the ground and brought up an axe.

“Wait,” Sheppard called. Rolf dragged the delirious Charlie straight toward Bad Santa and the evil little elves. Little Dudley followed, barking and growling and frothing at the mouth. “Hey, wait, what are you doing, Rolf?”

“Sheppard,” Miller called. “Be careful. Rolf, come back here!”

But Rolf didn’t answer or comply with Penny’s orders. That was a first. When Miller realized what he was up to, she still felt sick. She’d understood the logic before the others did. Charlie had been bitten. He was bleeding out and inches from death. He was a goner. He’d turn zombie in a matter of minutes. Rolf was saving their lives.

Sheppard came to his senses. He stopped shouting and backed way. By then Rolf had Charlie yards off in the darkness, very close to Santa and the elves. They could just see his big body by lantern and flashlight beam. Rolf was risking everything on one bold move. Bad Santa was stumbling their way and the little green elves were just about on top of the two of them when Rolf stopped moving. The creatures closed in fast. Their mouths were open and their fingers claws and their tiny teeth chattering for food.

“Help me. Stop him,” said Charlie weakly. Sadly, he was not unconscious. He’d snapped out of it after all. Miller could see by the look on his face that he was about to give up the ghost, but it still broke her heart, even knowing that he’d have turned immediately. She’d hoped to help Charlie die sooner rather than later and that he would not have to go through pure hell on the way. He was a bastard at heart, but no one deserved that fate. Still, whatever she thought of Rolf’s decision, she couldn’t afford to lose someone else trying to save Charlie. He was dead and they all knew it. Rolf held on, as he and the cadaver dog faced the nightmarish Santa and his wicked little assistants.