Die Dead Enough (7 page)

They went down several more floors without incident, pausing on the seventeenth to catch their breath. Here is where they found the skeleton of the toolbox's owner, obvious by his shredded work clothes that they observed nearby. By the looks of it, he had been one of the building's maintenance crew.

So Bobo with the axe, Klaus and Aiden wielding screwdrivers and Conor with the hammer continued down, hearing only the occasional shuffling as they passed certain floors. They had paused on the eighth floor when the door above them burst open and they could hear the unmistakable sound of zombies pouring into the stairwell.

They stared at each other in a panic and started down the steps, but the sounds dwindled, the creatures charging up the stairs instead of down. Conor stopped outside of the door to the sixth floor, his heart racing as he clutched the hammer to his chest.

Too many close calls. If they could only find a safe place, time to think.

Gotta make it through this.

Just then Aiden grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the door, motioning for the others to move aside. Aiden pointed to the window, his eyes intense. From the wall beside the doorframe, they could make out the face of a zombie, a woman, lipstick and blood smeared across her jaw, a shaggy shock of black hair standing out from her head.

They could hear her teeth clicking together and her fingernails dragging down the surface of the door as she glared out into the stairwell. Bobo and the others had now moved down to the fifth floor and were waiting for the brothers to join them when Albert began crazily ranting again.

"I can't see the television!" he shouted and his wife grabbed him, doing her best to calm him. "No, no! Tell him to get out of my way!" he went on.

"Shut him up!" Bobo hissed, pointing with his axe.

The fifth floor door was rocked and bent outward with a loud crash as a group of zombies crashed through it, charging headlong into the older people as Bobo and Klaus took the stairs two at a time, heading down.

Albert had grabbed a handful of Bobo's shirt and was pulled along with him as they headed to the fourth floor.

The old women had no chance as the dead things ripped into them. Their screams were quickly cut short, teeth tearing their throats, bony fingers pulling their bodies apart, organs splashing against the walls with unbelievable force.

Klaus and Bobo kept going, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the zombies as possible.

Where Conor and Aiden stood, the door shuddered as the creature within heard the other zombies feasting. They pressed their bodies against the wall as the door broke loose from its hinges and fell forward to thud with a loud clang to the floor. The slobbering thing lumbered out. It was so intent on joining its brethren that it passed the two of them without hesitation and limped down the steps toward the carnage.

Aiden risked a look inside the ruined doorway. The hall was empty, only a handful of skeletons spread out along the floor. He motioned for his brother to join him and they stepped inside, moving carefully to the first closed office door.

It was locked so they moved to the next. Finding it unlocked and everything quiet behind it, they entered and closed it with a soft click. They found themselves in a waiting area, grey sofas and chairs assembled in front of a long receptionist's desk. It appeared to be a typical doctor's office of some sort. To the left of the desk stood a door, leading into the examination area and they went through it, prepared for anything.

They passed several exams rooms, empty but for the medical equipment and paper-covered tables. Turning a corner, they found a break room with table and chairs and sets of shelves against one wall lined with foodstuffs. There was also a refrigerator that Aiden quickly moved to inspect, finding several warm sandwiches, salads and mixed fruit and a variety of soft drinks.

He pulled the sandwiches and two bananas out and placed them on the table.

"Come on, Conor," he said, motioning for him to sit as he peeled the wrapper off of the sandwich and took an enormous bite. It was still fresh, the refrigerator dead since just last night and it was the most delicious warm sandwich he had ever eaten.

Conor joined him and ate, constantly stopping to listen for the presence of the undead.

They split a third sandwich and drank two warm sodas each, giving them a surge of energy from the sugar. For a moment, they sat and simply stared at the tabletop, thinking through all that had happened since they had left Kennedy's nightclub the night before. So many horrific images flashed through their minds, memories of a night of madness and death. Neither had ever seen so much blood.

Both were so tired, heads in their hands and they sat together in silence, only their breathing heard in the small room. Conor studied his wedding ring again, simple, silver, but a powerful symbol of commitment and trust. He prayed that his family was safe, so much frustration building inside of him.

He stood and searched the room with his eyes. On the floor, next to the refrigerator, he found a large canvas bag. Dumping it out, he found six packages of napkins, plastic forks and spoons. He opened the refrigerator once more and filled the bag with as much food and drink as he thought he could easily carry.

He threw the bag over his shoulder and nodded, satisfied with the weight and his ability to carry it without issue.

"Wish we could just go to sleep, man... so fucking tired..." Aiden whispered as they made their way toward the waiting area again.

"I was thinking the same thing... but the others might be in trouble. If we can help-" Conor said.

"If they're still alive," said Aiden.

"Right."

"You sure you want to go back and look for them?" asked Aiden. "I kinda think we should worry about saving ourselves."

Conor paused, thinking. He shook his head, eyes closed.

"No. I've known Klaus for fifteen years. If I can help him, I'm going to."

He pulled out his phone and began to type out a text message to Klaus.

You okay? Where are you guys?

He stared at the screen, anxiously awaiting a reply, but none came.

"No answer..." Conor said with a drawn face. "Either way, I'm going to look for him. Any sign of trouble and we'll switch to your plan."

"All right," answered Aiden. "Wish I had my guns, man..."

"Me, too," Conor said as he moved up to the door that led to the outer corridor. He pressed his ear to it, bag over his shoulder, hammer in hand. He pulled the door open slightly, glancing down the hall, first one way, then the next.

Empty.

Thank God.

CHAPTER FOUR

The horde came hurtling down the staircase after Klaus, Bobo and the bumbling Albert, his wispy, white hair in his eyes. The trio had made it to the second floor, Bobo pulling them through the door and into the corridor just as the first of the zombies descended in a deafening crash, their bodies tumbling and bouncing off of the walls and one another.

Klaus ducked into another hall that led off to the left, motioning for Bobo to follow. They stopped just around the corner, their backs against the wall as some of the undead stopped at the door, listening for sounds of their quarry.

Klaus and Bobo could hear the unholy moans and choking coughs of the monsters, hear the shuffling feet, scraping fingertips.

"KSHE 95. Real Rock Radio!" Albert blurted out with a broad smile.

"Shit," Bobo cursed, stepping behind the man and placing his hand over his mouth. He heard the pounding on the door grow louder. Had they heard?

"U-man and Lern. Read Rock Morning Show!" Albert said, Bobo's hand slipping from the man's lips.

"Shhh! You're gonna get us all killed," Klaus whispered as the assault on the door ramped up.

Bobo covered Albert's mouth again as he struggled to get free, looking at Klaus with wide eyes full of anxiety.

Klaus gripped his screwdriver and prepared for the worst.

Albert kicked his feet, his heels knocking loudly against the wall. Bobo pulled him tighter in frustration, pressing his palm hard against his face.

Muffled words could be heard as Albert protested, thrashing about in his grip. Then came a loud snap, the old man's body suddenly limp. Klaus looked at Bobo in shock, his mouth falling open in disbelief as the zombies moved away, their erratic movements indicating that they had gone down the steps to the main floor.

When he felt it was safe, Bobo relaxed and let Albert collapse to the floor. It was obvious that the old man was dead, his fragile neck broken.

Bobo shook his head, staring at Klaus defensively.

I- I didn't-" he started to explain.

"I know, man. I know," Klaus replied. "It was an accident."

"He was gonna bring 'em down on us..." said Bobo, rubbing his head, staring at the old man on the floor. "I was just trying to keep him quiet. I- I didn't mean to kill the man. I swear."

"I know. You don't have to convince me, Bo. I was right here," said Klaus.

"Don't tell nobody else. Please," Bobo asked.

"No one's gonna-"

"Please!" Bobo asked again, putting his hand on Klaus shoulder.

"All right. I won't say shit."

Bobo nodded thankfully and they moved down the hall, heading for the other side of the building, hoping that the opposite stairwell was clear.

"Shit. He's not answering me," Conor said as he and his brother proceeded down the hallway.

Aiden rubbed his fingers against his lips in thought.

"Then we gotta worry about ourselves. I hate to say it, but he might be dead. If so, we'll never find him, not even a body," he said. "Let's just get the fuck out of this building, brother."

Conor hated to admit it, but the logic was sound.

Sorry, Klaus. Hope you're okay, buddy.

He gripped the hammer tightly in his hand and stepped up to the door that led to the stairwell. Peeking through the window, he could see nothing but dried blood on the walls and steps.

With just the two of us, it should be simple to get to the main floor.

He pushed the door open, quietly sliding inside with Aiden behind him.

No sound.

They leaned over the railing, staring down. On the landing below, they could see a purse. By the pattern, they recognized it as belonging to one of the old ladies. The contents were thrown out and a skeletal arm rested nearby.

They looked at each other with frowns and began the trip down, the slick stairs creating a sucking sound as they took each one. Once they reached the fifth floor landing, the stopped and studied the gnawed bones that lay scattered about, tiny torn swatches of clothing still attached in places.

The remains were so annihilated, it was not easily evident as to how many victims there were. They saw four skulls and this gave them hope that some had survived the attack. It was also possible, however, that the zombies had simply consumed them or smashed them into unrecognizable bits.

They continued on, moving down to the fourth floor, getting closer to a means of escape. A loud knocking sound stopped them as they passed the door, both brothers standing motionless as something moved within the hallway on the other side. Then something struck the door from the inside, with enough force to leave a permanent dent in the metal.

The brothers ran, taking the steps quickly as the sound of zombies assaulting the door above grew louder and louder. When they reached the third floor, the sound of another group of the dead came up from below. They charge recklessly through the door and into the hallway, thankful that it was unoccupied. Here every door was demolished, the frames splintered, massive holes in every wall.

Conor's eyes darted about in a frenzy, searching for somewhere to hide, the sounds of the monsters building at every side. Aiden hung at his shoulder, staring behind them at the door to the stairwell.

"Conor..." he said, turning his brother's head.

The horde was now just on the other side, growls and groans giving away their presence.

"Run," Conor said and they both took off in a sprint as the door crumpled behind them, a flood of zombies pouring through, climbing over one another to reach them. The noise brought more of the creatures, a group of them rounding a corner at the other end of the corridor.

"Fuck!" Aiden called out as he stopped, looking from one end of the hall to another.

Both groups now had their scent and charged forward, dragging useless limbs and dripping secretions as they came.

"Conor!" Aiden said, pointing ahead of them. About twenty feet away, the elevator door stood wide open, blocked by a dozen fresh skeletons.

"Go!" Conor shouted and they ran for it as the zombies closed in, so close that their odor filled the brother's nostrils. The creatures screamed, their voices echoing eerily as they reached out for them. Those ahead of them grew more insane seeing Conor and Aiden rushing in their direction. Just before the zombies could take them in the clutches, Aiden veered to his right, leaping into the elevator shaft, wrapping his hands around the thick cable that ran up its center.

His legs swung out wildly, nearly striking the other side as he struggled to retain his grip, his hands burning as he slid. Then Conor was in the air, reaching out for a higher spot on the cable, doing his best to avoid his brother, but nearly causing Aiden to lose his grip and plummet the fifty or so feet that stood between them and the bottom of the shaft.

"Hang on!" Conor called out, struggling to pull himself higher, while avoiding striking Aiden with his feet. Zombies abruptly appeared next to them, reaching out, trying to grab the brothers, several tumbling awkwardly forward and falling into the elevator shaft to hit the ground with a thud seconds later.

Conor managed to pull himself up a few feet above Aiden, his arms now burning from the effort, palms of his hands on fire from the cable.

"They can't reach us," Conor said, breathing heavy. "Use your legs. Squeeze and hang on."

"Yeah, but for how long?" Aiden asked as more monsters fell, striking the cable, shaking them with its vibration. "Shit!"

Miraculously Conor still had the canvas bag over his shoulder, but now its added weight was a problem. He would not drop it unless he absolutely had to do so. Who know how soon they would find edible food again?

Far below, zombies that had fallen were now attempting to climb the cable, broken nails scraping the metal as they slid back to the floor.

The faces of those in the doorway were only feet away, horrific yellowed eyes, rotten flesh, many crawling with maggots and the stench - enough to turn your stomach. Their arms swung out desperately for living meat, too close for comfort.

It was almost impossible to believe that they had once been people, with jobs and families, their actions now those of bloodthirsty animals.

Aiden's hands slipped and he slid down the cable a few inches.

"Dammit," he said, gripping tighter with his legs, which were now weakening and beginning to shake. "What's the plan?"

"Wish I had one," Conor replied, staring up into the darkness. "Can't go down, that's for sure. Can't climb up thirty-something stories on this cable either."

"That's what I thought," Aiden said with a chuckle. "When our arms and legs give out... we are fucked."

"Seems like it."

Suddenly a high-pitched scream, that of a young girl, reached them, coming from the hallway beyond the zombies who all turned to investigate.

Mina? Trish? Could they have made it?

Another scream and the creatures began to leave the elevator door in pursuit of its owner. The brothers could hear rapid footsteps racing away down the hallway and the petrified shouts fade into the distance. Soon the elevator doorway was empty save for the skeletons that now hung partially inside the open shaft.

"Now's our chance," Conor said, pulling himself up a little higher on the cable. "I'm gonna jump."

"Shit. Be careful," Aiden said, holding on tighter as the cable shook.

Conor climbed another five or so feet and judged the distance with his eyes. How far was it? Ten feet?

I can easily make that.

"Here we go..." he said to himself as he gathered his courage. If he fell, the zombies would have him. There would be no escape.

He took a few deep breaths, stretched his neck and leapt out for the ledge, arms and fingers reaching, teeth grinding as he fell. The canvas bag seemed to drag him down and he did not think he would make it. He hit the ledge hard with his chest, scrambling, his fingers scraping the carpet, his legs kicking desperately.

"Grab the door, Conor!" Aiden called out. "Grab the door!"

Conor swung his right arm out, fingers gripping the elevator door just as he lost his grip with his left hand. His body flew like a pendulum, swaying far out, rips scraping painfully against the surface of the shaft. He struggled to get his left hand to the door, the straps of the canvas bag now hanging across his throat, the supplies inside weighing him down.

His shoulder joints crackled as he swung back, his other hand finally joining his right, fingers locking on the door with a death grip. With his feet against the shaft he climbed up, his arms screaming in agony from the effort. Skeletal remains fell free as he knocked them aside, sliding into the hallway on his belly.

He managed a look both ways down the corridor. At that moment it was perfectly empty. He turned back to his brother who hung suspended on the cable, his eyes wide with surprise.

"You fucking made it," Aiden whispered with a grin. "Hate to admit it, but I thought you were dead."

"Yeah, thanks. Your turn," Conor said, motioning for Aiden to climb up the cable. "Do the same thing I did. Climb up about ten feet and jump out as far as you can. I'll grab you and pull you up."

"Didn't look that easy when you did it, brother," Aiden said as he began to pull himself higher. "Don't let me drop. Not looking forward to having my bones gnawed upon."

"Not gonna happen," Conor said, once again noticing the bag over his shoulder. He pulled it off and tested its strength with his hands, pulling hard on the straps. It was made well. He dumped out the contents. "We're gonna use this bag. You jump and grab it, I'll pull you up."

"Dude, that bag's not gonna hold," Aiden said.

"Just make it to the ledge, then grab the straps to pull yourself up."

Loud thuds boomed from the floor below as Conor held the canvas bag so that one of the straps hung along the ledge.

"Go, Aiden. There's no more time," he said as he braced himself against the elevator door, back pressed hard against it. "You got this."

"Shit. Here I come," Aiden said and jumped away from the cable. In seconds he collided with the side of the shaft, his chest smashing against the lip of the ledge, knocking the air from his lungs. His fingernails dug into the carpeting as he began to lose his hold.

"Grab the strap!" Conor said, reaching out to grab his brother's forearm. Aiden wrapped one arm in the strap and pulled as Conor jerked it hard toward himself, muscles in his back tightening with the exertion.

"I got ya," Conor grunted as he heaved against Aiden's weight. In not time, Aiden had pulled himself up over the edge and collapsed onto the floor, breathing in hoarse gasps as Conor kept watch on both ends of the corridor, clutching his hammer.

"Daddy!" they could hear from below, the voice that of Trish. Then the thunderous sound of scores of feet in pursuit.

"Can't believe they're still alive," Aiden said, moving to a sitting position.