The Undead Situation (7 page)

“Hey, get your act together. It’s time to go.”

She opened her eyes wide and scrambled to her feet, reaching for her shoes at the same time. “Sorry.”

“I’m going to bring everything to the balcony and check out the situation. Eat something, drink some water, and meet me out there.”

As I suspected, there weren’t many undead outside. None of them even noticed me as I dragged our packs and everything else out. Since there were so few in the street, I doubted there were many more in the alley. I wasn’t going to need the Barrett.

Gabe picked up the pace and was on the balcony just as I grew impatient. She looked up at the brick wall between us and the roof, then back to me.

“How are we getting up there?”

“You get on my shoulders and I’ll boost you up. Take this rope and loop it around something so we can lift the supplies.”

I explained how getting on my shoulders worked. Leaning forward, I braced my hands on my knees so she could place her right foot atop my right thigh. Her hands went to my shoulders for support. The physical contact made me uncomfortable, but I ignored the feeling for the sake of practicality.

Gabe worked her feet up to my shoulders and grabbed my offered hands so she could stand. She must’ve weighed around a hundred pounds, so the pressure of her feet on my shoulders was bearable.

When we were both standing straight, Gabe’s forearms had just enough room to lay flat on the side of the ledge. This is where I got worried. It took a lot of strength to haul up one’s own bodyweight. She didn’t weigh much, but if she couldn’t get a good burst of adrenaline, we’d have to figure out another way up there.

“Are you ready? You need to go. I can’t stand here forever.”

After a few seconds, I felt one foot lift off and heard it connect with the brick wall as she tried to gain leverage. It was now or never. The second I felt her other foot leave my shoulder, I grabbed the heels of her boots and pushed her upward. My effort paid off as I saw her disappear over the ledge.

Soon after, one end of the rope I gave her hit my face, followed by the sound of laughter. After rubbing my cheek, I looked up and saw Gabe grinning.

“Sorry,” she said, but there was no regret.

Letting the shot with the rope go, I tied one end to a pack and lifted it above my head, reducing the distance she had to pull it up. We repeated the process until all items were on the roof.

“I’m going to get Pickle.”

I saved her for last because I didn’t want to cause my ferret panic. Pickle was trained to stay in small spaces without losing it. Days after I bought her, I began training her for situations like this. I was paranoid and didn’t ever want to risk leaving her. For the ride to the roof, I left her in her travel cage. I brought her out, thankful for her silence, and tied the top handle to the rope. The trip was going to be hell for her, but I couldn’t let her die.

Gabe was sensitive to my adoration for the ferret, and pulled the rope slowly and smoother than with the other gear. I felt appreciation and gratefulness towards her and didn’t bother to suppress it.

Once I climbed the rope and stood on the roof, I took a look around. Dark smoke rose into the clouds from the direction of Puget Sound. I could barely see it between the tall buildings of downtown, but there was just enough space to catch it. That explained the lack of Zs. They were shuffling towards the latest excitement.

This is heavy
, I thought as I shrugged my backpack on, Pickle now transferred inside it.
Did I pack too much?

I put her in the outer zipper pocket of the pack, separated from the rest of my gear. Pickle settled in after much defiant wriggling. Gabe and I crossed the barren rooftop, keeping an eye on the roof access hatch. We leaned over the other edge to see the alley.

It was empty. Luck wasn’t something I relied on, but it was helpful. She’d rappel down, since I could cover both ends of the alley with the Barrett, then I’d follow. From there we went on foot. I had a car in the underground garage across the street, but there was no way in hell we were going to go get it. The entrance was visible from the balcony, but was blocked by a red sports car and a minivan. We’d rough it out on foot until it was safe to hotwire a car.

After I secured the rope around a huge metal ventilation system, I helped her into the climbing harness and showed her how to control the belay device.

“Try to walk against the wall around the windows. We’ll go unnoticed longer if the ones inside don’t see you. Once we’re down, keep the talking to a minimum.”

Then she was off, rappelling down the building as though she’d done it a million times before. I wondered if she’d done any rock climbing back in the day, but it was too late to ask her. By the time I thought of it, she was halfway down. There was no point in using the Barrett to cover her. I waited until she retrieved the 9mm I gave her before I started down, too.

When I got to the bottom, she pointed to the two exits of the alley. Right or left? Did it matter? We didn’t know what was on either end, but I chose right just for the hell of it. As we walked, I brought up my carbine, the main rifle I’d be using.

Single file, guns on the ready, we moved silently around dumpsters and garbage, each footstep taking us farther down the block and closer to the unknown.

I maneuvered around an indistinguishable pile of gore, opting to breathe through my mouth as we passed. Whatever it was, it was teeming with wiggling maggots. Though it was probably a trick of my mind, I could’ve sworn I actually heard them.

We came to the end of the alley and took in the chaotic intersection before us.

It wasn’t uncommon to find narrow, cramped streets in Seattle, but the intersection managed to take the word ‘cramped’ to a new level. To the right, two Humvees were head to head, completely blocking traffic. The traffic lights were destroyed, creating a bridge between all the wrecked cars beyond the Humvees. Evidence of a fire was obvious. Crispy, burnt corpses fell half-way out of blackened, melted cars. Even from my angle, I could see the glimmering lake of glass surrounding the entire scene, both from broken cars and the surrounding shops.

To my left, the chaos was relatively serene. Only the businesses had been looted, and wreckage was sparse in the street. Somehow the government, city, or whoever the fuck tried, managed to block off the street. Farther up, I knew it turned onto the I-5 freeway, which was fortunate for us. It meant there was a clear path out of Seattle.

I made a left and moved down the sidewalk, careful not to walk close to open doorways. Some stores were still untouched, as though an apocalypse never happened. A boutique, one that I had passed before on my way to work, still boasted outrageously expensive purses and shoes. The mannequins looked down their noses at me, as grandiose and absurd as they always had.

Fuck you, Louis Vuitton
, I thought spitefully.
No one’s going to you now
.

Other shops weren’t as fortunate. We crunched past one that must’ve gone through an outrageous fire. The entire inside was a macabre tangle of burnt furniture and countertops. Scorched corpses littered the ground. Maybe they had made a stand there. Or tried to, at least.

From down the street came the roar of a vehicle. Gabe and I froze, anticipating the certain moans of zombies to follow.

“This changes things,” Gabe said.

I shook my head. “No, it doesn’t. We’re bound to run into people at one point or another. Maybe they’ll want to give us a ride.”

Maybe it’s Frank
. I kept that thought to myself.

A jet black Hummer swiveled around the corner, moving steadily down the street. They probably came from the freeway, which would confirm my suspicions. Confirmation of a cleared freeway would expedite our plans, whatever they were.

We were in plain sight, standing on the sidewalk. The Hummer was clearly making its way for us. I didn’t bring my rifle up, figuring they’d feel threatened and run me over. A speeding vehicle headed for me was one thing I couldn’t avoid. Zombies? No problem. Bipolar teenage girl? Whatever.

“Oh, shit,” Gabe muttered.

“What is it?” I sighed.

“I know them.”

“So? Shouldn’t that make it easier to get a lift?”

She just shook her head.

Frankly, I didn’t care about her issues, so I waited for the Hummer to pull up beside us, the tinted window rolling down. First thing I noticed: the man had too many greasy, flabby chins to count.

“Gabriella. Funny thing, running into you here,” he said.

Her voice was flat, but I could tell she was shook up. “Yeah, Tyler. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Lookin’ for you,” someone from the passenger side said.

“Listen, why don’t we talk about this inside?” I ventured, pointing down the block to the zombies who had taken an interest in what was going on. Most of them were coming from the wreckage, trying to crawl over it all, but the rest were coming from the alley we’d just come from.

A crowd of zombies shambled toward us, and I wished I could enjoy it. They appeared to be remains of a football team, their colors black and orange. Some of the players even had helmets on, and I felt a tiny pang of sadness for them. How could they take a tasty, hot bite of living flesh if they had a big ol’ helmet on? Poor zombies.

“Sure, sure,” Tyler said. “Hop in the back, eh? Pull anything and we’ll put a fuckin’ bullet in your head.”

He rolled up the window. We heard the automatic locks click. I looked at Gabe, raising an eyebrow. She said nothing as she yanked the door open, getting inside. I followed, settling into the leather seats.

The other man in the car was the comic opposite of Tyler. He was thin and sallow with a viciously hooked nose. Thinning brown hair was slicked back with natural hair gel.

“Gabby, nice to see you. Been looking for you for a while now,” the skinny one said.

“Oh really? I’d thought you’d be worrying about other things, Larry.”

I let my gaze roam around, zoning out from their conversation. Why listen to the hired help? You wouldn’t listen to the ramblings of a taxi driver, would you? These clowns would be the equivalent if I got my way.

The back contained an absolute armory. Countless sub machine guns were piled on top of each other, but a few quality assault rifles and shotguns were at the party, too. These fuckers knew how to handle themselves. Or they were just good at hoarding expensive firearms.

With impassive interest, I looked away from the goods and up to Tyler and Larry, who were still carrying on with their dull conversation.

“…just left them like that. We came to get you, you—” Larry was rambling.

If I shot Tyler in the head…

“…so we’s come to get you, right? Been chasing you since—”

No, can’t shoot him first.
The car was still on and wasn’t in park. He could hit the gas and run us into a wall.

“You could imagine how hurt we all were…”

Hell, I have two handguns!
I could hold them both hostage and kill them later. Using the rifle wasn’t possible. It would be too awkward to yield in the amount of time needed. I wondered if I could even get the 9mm out fast enough.

“Hey! Ginger-boy, you payin’ attention? We don’t need no extra baggage. Get out of the car,” Tyler shouted.

The Hummer had moved farther up the street. While I was zoning out, they evidently drove away from the Zs. Now, they wanted to offload me. I looked at Gabe and raised a brow.

Larry reached for a gun in a drink holder up front.

“Okay, okay,” I said, getting the hint, and opened the door.

“Cyrus,” Gabe started, but I shook my head.

“Don’t worry about it. I got this. See you boys later.”

While feigning getting out of the Hummer, my hand went for the knife strapped to my thigh, hidden from the two men. I swung back with lightning speed and flung myself onto Larry, ramming the knife in his throat. Arterial spray coated the windshield and my face, as I turned and grabbed Tyler’s wrist. He was going for the handgun stashed in the drink holder. I twisted his hand, breaking it instantly. I realized I was in an awkward position—half my body in the backseat while I tried to take down the fat man in the driver’s seat.

“What the fuck are you waiting for? Shoot him!” I yelled at Gabe as I fought with Tyler’s other arm.

Blood from Larry spurted, getting into my eyes. Before too much of the salty liquid violated me, I squeezed my eyes and mouth shut. I heard the single shot, and another spray of blood, and this time gore, splashed into my face.

Dropping my hands from the lifeless body, I slid back into the seat next to Gabe.

“Really? What the fuck? You couldn’t have shot him in the side of the head? How did you even get to that angle? You could’ve shot me.”

Her bullet was a hollow point, effectively blowing up the front of poor old Tyler’s noggin. I wiped the blood out of my eyes and reached over to shut the open door of the Hummer.

I looked at Gabe, who was white as a ghost.

“Well?” I demanded. “What the hell just happened?”

The front seat and passenger side were bloody. The windshield was bloody. I was bloody. Gabe was perfectly clean. I was getting angry.