Revenence: Dead of Winter: A Zombie Novel (25 page)

     "I know that," Phoebe said, slightly defensive.  "I hope this place has running water.  I don't want to be holed up in a convention center with God knows how many other unwashed people."

     "Ah, it's fine," the Professor said.  "The place is huge.  I'm sure you can always retreat to some quiet corner to stink up with just your own smell." 

     The group started toward the shore.

     "I wonder how much of it they're using," Shari said.  "It's not just a building, it's a complex."

     "I guess we'll find out," Daphne said, taking in the sights and muted sounds of her deserted home city, a city which she hadn't seen since childhood.  It was, indeed, the city in which she was supposed to have grown up.  Shari noticed Daphne's reaction, her struggle to remain emotionally neutral, and wrapped her arm around the young woman as they walked at the rear of the group.

     "Thanks," Daphne said under her breath, a single tear rolling downher cheek.

     Hugo glanced back, noting her distress.

     "Hey," he said, joining her side opposite Shari.  "You okay, Daphne?"

     Daphne nodded silently.

     "The place brings back memories for her," Shari said.

     "Oh," Hugo said, although he appeared to be puzzled.

     "Of my childhood," Daphne elaborated.

     Hugo nodded, dawning comprehension in his eyes.  "Oh," he said, "I understand.  We're here for you, Daphne."

     "Thank you," Daphne said.  "I really am happy, though.  We all--"  She paused.  "Most of us made it here alive.  I'm home and there's life here.  We can all have a life here."

     They came to a path that ran between the shore and the easternmost building of the complex.  The northern and southern ends of the path were capped off, building to lake, with three consecutive rows of chainlink fence twenty feet in height.  This afforded safe access to the marina via the convention center's easternmost entrance.  At both ends, undead tumbled into the water in their attempt to circumvent the fencing in their way.  It was, however, a futile attempt, as the fencing protruded ten feet out into the water.  The submerged undead invariably stayed down, as there was a deep drop along the shoreline, and the undead, unbreathing as they were, were incapable of floating.

     "There must be dozens of them down there," Hugo said, "if not hundreds.  Just wandering the bottom."

     Finn clung to Shari's leg, trembling with fright.

     "Just one more reason for little guys to stay away from the water," Phoebe said, prompting dirty looks from the other adults in the group.  "What?  It's true."

     They reached the southernmost door facing the lake, as the looped radio transmission had described.  Shari reached out, pressing the buzzer.

     After a moment, they heard a male voice through the speaker.  "And who might the six of you be?"

     "I'm Shari, and these are my friends.  We heard your transmission from Champaign--"

     "Ah, Champaign!  It's you guys!" said the unidentified man.  "I'll be damned, you actually made it.  How's the place faring?"

     "It's gone," Shari said, "as far as we can tell."

     "Oh," said the voice from the speaker.  "That's too bad."

      "It hasn't been too much better anywhere else," Shari said.  "We--me and my friend Daphne--came all the way from Kentucky, and we haven't come across very many people, and never more than a couple dozen together in one place."

     "Things were very grim out there," Daphne chimed in.

     "How did you get here?" the man on the intercom asked.

     "Pontoon plane," Shari said, pointing to the Professor.  "He flew."

     "You know how to fly?" the man asked.

     "Yeah," the Professor said.  "Learned in the Air Force."

     "I see," the man said.  "Thank you for your service, sir."  The group heard the door click.  "You'll find the door unlocked.  Go ahead and come on in.  Someone will be right down to greet you."

     They entered the building, letting the steel security door latch closed behind them.  After over a minute of silent waiting, Phoebe spoke up.

     "Do you suppose they're watching us right now?" she wondered, her voice a low hiss.

     Shari shrugged.  "Maybe."

     They heard a door unlatch from the right.  The sound came from an upstairs landing, and a moment later, five figures appeared.  They were all dressed in riot gear and carrying assault rifles.  The one at the front of the group nodded toward the staircase, a silent command for Shari and the group to go upstairs.

     Shari glanced at the rest of the group, trying to gauge their level of apprehension.  She wondered if they had walked into an ambush, but she wasn't sure what she would do if that were the case.  She glanced at the riot gear-clad individual beside her, a female with pale green eyes and smooth ivory skin.

     "Where are we going?" Shari asked the woman.  Her eyes rolled passively toward Shari, locking gazed with her, then rolled passively back to look ahead as they walked down a maze of hallways and closed doors. 

     They entered a raised, covered walkway, passing over a deserted Lake Shore Drive below.  From there, they went right, entering the northern-most building of the complex.  They walked down a short hallway, climbing one more story and exiting through a steel door.  As they stepped out into the fading daylight, they found themselves on the roof of the building, inland from the lake.  The early evening sun was obscured by the colossal buildings dominating the western skyline, and the air carried the crisp hint of autumn soon to come.

     After a couple of minutes, two figures emerged from another rooftop door.  They also wore full riot gear.  As they got closer, Shari saw that there was one male and one female.  The male, who towered at around six and a half feet tall with cold, steely blue eyes, was the first to speak to the group.

     "Greetings," he said.  "Welcome to McCormick Place.  You could say I run things around here.  When I say that, I mean nothing goes down in this place without me knowing about it.  My name's Maximum.  Not Max for short, Maximus."  Shari saw Phoebe make a face. 

     "He's always been particular about that," explained the woman next to him, repressing a smile.  Her brown eyes were dark and exotic, and the whites stood out in stark contrast to her deep, cocoa-colored skin.  "I'm Dacee.  Good to meet you all."

     The group introduced themselves, Shari speaking for Finn.

     "Any of you his parents?" Maximus asked.

     "No," Shari said.  "We found him at a farm outside of Danville, south of here.  He had apparently been living alone for at least a few days."

     "Hi, Finn," Dacee said, crouching down to the boy's height and smiling warmly through her riot helmet.  "It's good to have you here, buddy.  Tell me, do you like pizza?"

     Finn glanced at Shari, wondering if he should proceed with the interaction.  Shari nodded slightly.

     "Yes," Finn replied, though still somewhat bashful.

     "That's good," Dacee said, "because that's what the cooks down in the kitchen are making for dinner tonight.  You want to sit at the kids' table, with some other little boys and girls your age?"

     Finn nodded, his eyes lighting up.

     "I thought you'd like that," Dacee said.  "We're gonna take good care of you here, Finn."

     "How many people are living here?" Hugo asked.

     "Approaching a thousand," Maximus replied.  "Me and Dacee started this settlement from the ground up.  I was head of security here in the old days, and Dacee was the maintenance supervisor.  Between the two of us, we know every square inch of this place.  We knew the weak points and reinforced them, knew the blind-spots, security-wise, and planned accordingly.  We've taken in individuals and families.  We've got people with important skills, things like doctors, teachers, electricians, plumbers.  We've also got those with no skills, which is fine as long as they find a function.  There's food to be prepared, cleaning to be done...."  He paused, glancing briefly at Finn as he continued.  "Children to be looked after.  I trust none of you object to the requirement that you serve some function, skilled or not."

     "No," Shari said.  "We would expect as much."

     "Good," Maximus said.  "We'll let you get settled in for tonight, and then tomorrow we'll see where you're best suited.  There's a directory in the Commons.  It'll let you know which areas you're allowed in and which ones are off-limits.  Bryan," he said, addressing one of the four males who had escorted them.  "Do me a favor and take them over to Housing.  Introduce them to Rhonda."

     "Yes, sir," Bryan said.

     "Rhonda will be the ones setting you guys up in your rooms," Maximus told them.  "Feel free to visit the dining hall after that for dinner.  Make yourselves at home."

     "Thank you," Shari siad.

     "Just make yourselves useful," Maximus said, turning back toward the door through he had come.  "You'll do alright."

     "This way," Bryan said, leading Shari and the group back into the building, downstairs, to the right, and into the heart of the commons area of the south building.  It was bustling with human activity, and the group stared, incredulous, as if they had never seen crowds clogging throughways or heard the murmur of dozens of conversations going on at once.

     "It's been awhile, huh?" Bryan asked, smirking. 

     "I can't help it," Phoebe said.  "I've basically been an involuntary hermit for most of the past four months."

     "I didn't know if a place still existed with this many people," Shari said, noting that some people stared at her and the group as they passed, intrigued by new faces.  They had reached an opulent public area of the convention center.  A bar from the pre-zombie days was still functioning, patrons filling the place and overflowing to the outside, where additional tables surrounded the entrance.

     "You  can come back later," Bryan said.  "Have yourselves a drink after you get settled into your rooms."

     "Count me in," Phoebe said.  "Is it open bar?"

     Bryan nodded.  "Yeah.  Unlike the food, they don't really ration out the liquor.  If it runs out, it runs out.  At least 'til someone scavenges some more."

     "I wish they had something to smoke," Shari said.

     Bryan smirked.  "You get to know the right people around here, I don't think that'll be a problem."

     "Do you guys get many threats here?" Daphne asked.

     "Sometimes," Bryan said.  "Not so much a threat to civilians, as those out on the perimeter, security like myself.  More often than not, though, it comes from other people, not zombies.  Those shitmongers are hellbent on taking other people's stuff, usually violently, in a world full of stuff and low on people.  Assholes."

     "We know the types," Phoebe said.

     "We call them sadists," Shari added.  "They're pretty much the same everywhere, and as far as we can tell, there's only one way to deal with them."

     "You've had to kill some of them?" Bryan asked.

     "Me and Daphne have," Shari said.

     "How many?" Bryan asked.

     "Lots," Daphne replied, her gaze panning the room as she surveyed the area around her.

     "Well," Bryan said, "you two sound like you can pull your own weight."

     "I'm sure they'll find somewhere to put us to work," Shari said.

     They crossed another walkway, entering the second floor of the towering hotel connected to the convention center, and found themselves in an lavish lobby with stratetically placed windows.

     "This is the place we all call home," Bryan said.  "McCormick's very own Hyatt-Regency.  The rooms are pretty nice, and most of them have killer views.  Every morning, I sit in my room on the 21st floor and watch the sun rise over the lake.  It's unreal," he said, leading them past the luxuriant reception area and toward a discreet back office.  "The world's been a fucking nightmare for the last four months, but at least we have some luxuries around here to make it a little more bearable, you know?" 

     He knocked on the door of the office, the exterior of which was covered in posters depicting various fantasy novels and movies.  There were elves, dwarves, noble heroes and fair princesses, along with various monsters and dragons.

     "It's open, come on in," called a voice from inside. 

     As they entered, Shari saw that the fantasy theme had carried over from the exterior.  A woman, around fifty, sat at a desk in the corner.  Her chin-length, chestnut-brown bob was well-maintained, and her plump, rounded face was covered in full makeup.  Shari was taken aback, having not seen such levels of primping since the day the apocalypse had begun.  As they approached, she stood to shake their hands, and Shari noticed that she was a full head taller than the woman.

     "Maximus told me you were coming," she said, extending a soft, petite, well-manicured hand toward Shari.  "I'm Rhonda.  Good to meet you all." 

     "I like the posters," Hugo said as he shook her hand.  "I'm a huge fantasy nerd, myself.  My name's Hugo, Hugo Quinn Clark."