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Authors: Brit Brinson

Dia of the Dead (17 page)

BOOK: Dia of the Dead
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“Exactly. Listen.” I put my index finger over my lips, signaling for silence.

“I don’t hear anything,” Kaci said.

Reagan gasped. “Katrina.”

Katrina was no longer puking or gagging. She was on the floor beside the wastebasket, lying still. Brendan and Kaci looked over in her direction. We exchanged grave looks, silently communicating a message none of us wanted to say aloud. I nodded—a signal to the rest—and the group moved into action.

Everyone combed the room for something to use and then encircled Katrina. She was completely still, without even a hint of breathing. The countdown clock had begun. We needed to move fast.

“This is it,” Reagan said, her eyes unreadable. The rest of us nodded somberly in agreement.

Reagan delivered a series of blows to Katrina’s head. Her finishing move drove wood into Katrina’s skull with a quick jab that sent a spatter onto the front of her denim romper.  She stood up—a little winded. 

“There,” she breathed. “All done. If we’re going to try to make it to the gate to get out, we better hurry.”

We left Hair and Makeup and made it through the building without anyone getting their face ripped off. Silent tears streamed down Kaci’s face as we passed Mason during our painstakingly careful journey to the entrance. He was still absorbed in his mirror and didn’t even notice us as we tiptoed past him. I guess there wasn’t much of a difference between regular Mason and zombie Mason. 

The building’s lobby area was empty. We rushed over to the glass doors of the entrance. The sky had turned into a series of blues fading into one another, each shade getting darker and darker until they soon would become the blue-black of night. Stars twinkled in the distance as the moon started its journey to take the sun’s place. So wrapped up in the sight, I almost didn’t notice the danger lurking beneath it. Since the time Reagan and I ran from BB and the office building like track stars, the lot had gone from being nearly deserted to being filled with bodies wandering about aimlessly. 

“Shit,” Reagan mumbled as she looked out the glass next to me.

“We’re not going to be able to get to the gate,” I said, defeated. “Not from here. Not at night.”

“Maybe we should just stay here after all,” Kaci offered.

“We can’t stay here,” Brendan said. “Mason, Taylor, and Joe are still around here somewhere.”

“Mr. Bixby’s office might be the safest place on the lot right now. It has a private entrance and Reagan and I already set up a barricade on the door. I think it’d be a good place to rest. The offices aren’t too far from here, and we’d be able to see what was going on with all of the windows.” From where we stood, I could see some of the lights on in the building through the large windows.

“How are we going to get there from here with all of them in our way?” Brendan asked, pointing at the crowd beyond the glass.

“We can use one of the back exit
s,
” Kaci suggested.

“What are we going to do when we get out there? We’d practically be serving ourselves up on a platter,” Reagan said.

“We’re just going to have to wing it and wish for the best,” I said.

“This is dumb.”

“Reagan, this may be dumb but it’s all I’ve got. We’re going to have to take this risk.” 

She looked at me for a minute then narrowed her eyes.

“If you get me turned into a zombie, you can bet your ass that you’ll be the first person I bite.”

She turned away from the door and headed back toward one of the main hallways without a word. Brendan and Kaci looked to me as if waiting for me to give them permission to go after her. I shrugged and started following. They fell in line behind me. Reagan led the way back toward th
e
Dia of the Dea
d
set. We encountered Mason and once again we had to help Kaci keep it together. Instead of reaching for him like she did the last time, she began whimpering quietly to herself. She then whispered a mildly convincing argument about why we should try to take him with us, stating that he was special enough to be key in finding an antidote. It took a minute but I was able to convince her it was a terrible idea. We left Mason behind, undisturbed.

“Almost there.” Reagan opened the door that led to the other side of the building and froze. 

“What’s the hold up?” I bumped into her back.

She looked over her shoulder at me, placed her finger over her lips—signaling for quiet—then pointed down the hall.  I peered over her shoulder, lifting to the tips of my toes to get a better look and inhaled so sharply I choked a little on the air. I covered my mouth with my hand and tried to muffle the scream rising in my throat so I wouldn’t alert our company to our presence. 

One of my fears had become reality. Sweet, handsome Will who loved to flirt with my mom (who often flirted back) was the person Sloane was hunched over earlier. He stood in the center of the hallway still in his uniform with his insides hanging on the outside. A dark trail of muck snaked a path on the floor, following where he had been and stopping where he stood. More fell at his feet from the massive wound Sloane left behind. The stench of death filled the corridor making me sick to my stomach. I left my hand over my mouth as I gagged. 

“He’s blocking the way to the exit,” Reagan whispered.

“How are we going to get past him?” Kaci asked, peeking over my shoulder.

“I have no idea,” Reagan said.

Will seemed to have noticed us. He began a slow, dragging march in our direction. Reagan took a step back, bumping into me, which caused me to bump into Kaci. Kaci bumped into Brendan. I took tiny steps backward as Reagan moved to close the door. 

“We need a plan,” she said when we were a bit safer behind the heavy metal door.

We huddled up to form yet another plan. With our heads together—literally—Brendan was the first to offer his strategy.

“I say we use a wedge and blitz.”

“‘Wedge and blitz’?” I asked, catching a glimpse of his profile. His hair had fallen over his face, casting a shadow over his serious blue eyes. I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts telling me to just go ahead and plant a kiss on his cheek despite his outburst earlier. I spent far too much time with Kaci. Her fangirling ways were beginning to rub off on me.

“Yeah, what the hell are you talking about?” Reagan grumbled.

“A wedge is a military move that…nevermind.  Let’s just blitz.”

We were still confused.

Brendan huffed. “A blitz is when you just—uh how can I explain this?—just run in the hallway screaming as loud as you can to try and distract the opposing force. I suggest we run in there and make as much noise as we can manage. Just go apeshit. You think you can you do that?”

“We can,” Kaci said.

“I don’t know if I like that idea, Brendan,” I said.

“Why not?” He leaned out of the huddle, standing up straight.

“Because I don’t think it’ll work.”

“Well, do you have a better one?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“I think I do.” I straightened up as well. He had taken both a defensive tone and a defensive stance so I took one to match.

“We can’t just run in there.”

“Why not? If we run, there’s no way he can catch all of us.”

“We don’t know if he’s a runner or not yet. If he is, he could get to us in like a second.”

“A runner?” Brendan asked.

“Runners—like Amber, Taylor and Mason—they moved fast and well, ran after us. Then there are walkers—like Joe. He moved slow and steady. And Sloane…I don’t know what she’d be considered. She was neither; she moved somewhere in between. So I guess she’d be an Inbetweenie.”

Everyone raised a brow at me.

“Did you come up with this…classification system yourself?” Reagan asked.

“Yes.” I beamed proudly.

She shook her head and muttered, “lame” before asking, “What’
s
you
r
plan, Summers? How’re we gonna not get killed before we go outside and get killed.”

I rolled my eyes at her and continued with my idea. “We need to distract him with something then we could try Brendan’s plan.”

“That isn’t a new plan. That’s just a twist on his,” Reagan huffed, motioning her thumb at Brendan.

“But it’s different. Here.” I fumbled to open up one of the pockets on the belt.

“Do you need help again?” Kaci asked.

“Uh…yeah. Thanks.” I was beginning to wish I
were ambidextrous. “I have a couple of smoke bombs I took from props earlier.”

“What do you plan on doing with those?” Reagan asked with an exaggerated urgent tapping of her foot.

“Toss one of them into the hall then run like Brendan suggested.” I pointed to the small, round explosive resting in the palm of Kaci’s hand.

“Hmm.” Brendan rested his hand on his chin. “That’s a slightly better plan

slightl
y
— but how are we going to light that thing?”

“Third pocket on this side, Kace.” I twisted my hip toward her so she could get the lighter. 

She handed the smoke bomb off to Brendan so she could test the red lighter—something I didn’t even think to do when I first picked it up. An orange-blue flame sparked to life in her hand as her thumb held down the little red lever. She removed her thumb and the flame died.

“Perfect.” She smiled to herself.

“Now, I know it’s not one of the Props department’s heavy duty smoke bombs but it should provide us with enough cover in the hallway,” I said.

“It could work,” Kaci agreed.

“It better work,” Reagan added. 

“It will,” I said confidently. This was one of those one-shot things. If it didn’t work…I didn’t want to think about if it didn’t work. There was no other choice. It had to.

“Who has a steady hand?” I asked.

Turns out it was Reagan. Since she had the talent, she earned the task of throwing the smoke bomb into the hall once Kaci opened the door. From the nervous glances passed between us, I could tell that no one was particularly eager to open the door but when a growl echoed in the stairwell from above us, we knew we had to.

Will’s trail of guts was closer when Kaci opened the door. Reagan wasn’t cool under pressure. She lit the wick with a shaky flame and tossed the smoke bomb into the hall. It rolled a few feet before it stopped. A wisp of smoke wafted toward the ceiling and died with a pfft.

Will continued toward us. The groans and growls from above were getting louder and were accompanied by heavy footsteps.  Whatever was above us was getting closer. I fumbled for another smoke bomb, grasping it and pushed it into Reagan’s chest. She nearly dropped it but caught it before it hit the floor. She lit the wick and a cloud of white smoke billowed from it, making everyone cough. My eyes watered, burning from the haze. I pulled up the collar of my t-shirt to cover my nose and mouth and squinted to see the hallway through tears.

“Go!” I coughed.

Thick smoke filled the hallway, making it nearly impossible to see. I groped my way toward the exit, coughing. Screams mingled with savage growls. I squinted, trying to see who was responsible for what sound but only saw the outlines of figures in the smoke. I’d been down this hall countless times, passing through it to get from my dressing room to the set. I thought I knew the layout pretty well but with the smoke and disorienting sounds, it was alien to me. 

My sneaker slipped on something slick causing me to fall into some of the mess Will left behind.

“Gross.” The smell and the squishing sound it made as I tried to stand made my stomach churn. I dry heaved as I flopped around, trying to get up. The fire alarm began to sound, the shrill siren making my ears hurt. I found my balance only to take a step and fall back into the slop. 

A pair of tan gladiator sandals ran past me.  I reached toward them, calling for Reagan’s help but the shoes kept going, running away from me. Gritting my teeth and holding my breath, I swept my legs around on the floor with a squelch and got on my hand and knees.  Ignoring the pain and keeping my sling as close to my body as possible, I crawled toward the sandals. They stopped. A sliver of light peeked through the haze as the door opened and the sandals disappeared.

I pulled myself up from the floor and onto my feet with a grimace of determination. I was finally standing steady when a body bumped into me, sending me into the wall. I yelped in pai
n,
but my cries were lost in the noise. I bit down on my lip a little harder. I was going to get to that door and I wasn’t going to let being bounced around like a pinball stop me. I recovered and pushed myself off the wall, heading toward another sliver of night as a figure went through the exit.

My sneakers slid across the floor, making me look like a klutzy ice skater. I was almost to the other side when the sprinklers came on. The freezing water cleared the smoke and through the ringlets of wet hair that clung to my face, I saw the door. Brushing my hair out of my eyes, I headed toward it, reaching for the knob. A blood-curdling scream directed my attention to Will and his grip on Kaci’s arm.

BOOK: Dia of the Dead
11.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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