Rise of the Dead (11 page)

"I'll help keep an eye on her too," says Chet. "Just need to turn the horses out in the arena first. They been cooped up for almost two days now."

"Thanks," says Danielle. "Just call if you need anything."

I take the gun back out from my waistband, flip the safety off, and set it on the table. "You know what you have to do if you need it?" I ask Devin.

He looks at the gun fearfully but nods his head.

I reach into the duffel from the security office, fish around through some batteries and junk food until I find the other Glock in the bottom of the bag and stow it in the back waistband. "Don't touch it unless you need it," I say.

"I can handle myself," he says firmly. He shoots me a look to tell me he definitely is not as much of a kid as I think he is.

Eight

"I wonder where they went off to," I say to Danielle. We sit in the arena, watching Chet lead the horses out by the dim glow of the flashlight.

"Joey is probably off playing with a sword somewhere,” Danielle muses. “And Dom just seems like she is glad to have some space. I don't think she likes any of us very much."

Three horses that Chet had lead out so far trot around the sand floor of the arena. They toss their heads back and prance around, glad to be free finally from the stalls. Danielle pours herself a glass of red wine and watches them move. We glimpse each horse only for a brief moment as it eclipses the beam of light then vanishes again into the darkness.

"I used to love horses," she says. She sets the bottle down and takes a sip from her glass. "That one there," she pointed at one of the horses. "He reminds me a little of one of the horses we had back in Pennsylvania."

"You had horses?" I ask.

"My family used to raise them. Then times got tough, and they had to sell them all."

"Did you ride?"

"Sure," she says. "Wouldn't be much point in having them if I didn't ride them."

"So, why don't you love them anymore?" I ask.

"Because I don't have any to love," she says. "But I guess now I can have any of these."

"I used to love horses, too," I say. "Well, betting on them anyway."

"Was that why you were at the track yesterday?"

"No, I was heading to give a lecture in the city."

"A lecture? About what?"

"About betting on horses."

"Really?" she laughs, not at all taking me serious now.

"Really," I say. I go on to explain about my book and about how I used statistical probabilities to bet on horse races.

"I didn't know they taught classes on gambling at college," she says. "And to think I was wasting my money trying to become a successful doctor when I could have learned how to do something like that instead."

"Seems like my skills won't have much value now, though, given the state of things," I say. For a second, I had been able to forget about all the horrific things going on outside. I was enjoying just talking normally to another human being. But there is no evading the current situation for very long. No matter what we may try to talk about, it always leads the conversation back to the death of everything that mattered to us, and the rise of the dead.

"Looks like I might have to find a new line of work," I say, trying not to totally kill our brief illusion of normality. I take a sip from my glass of wine. Then I realize there is no telling how long we'll have to live, and I take another long drink and empty the glass. I pour another for myself and fill up Danielle's glass.

For a long moment, we just sit watching the horses. For all the time I had spent around them, betting on them, studying their best times and whatnot, this might be the most I've ever really enjoyed looking at them.

"Maybe I'll raise horses," I say.

Danielle smiles and takes a sip of her wine.

"Alright," says Quentin. He steps down the stairs carrying an enormous tray of ribs. "Who's ready for some real food?"

"Finally," teases Danielle. "I could eat a horse."

Joey trails in behind him carrying a big tray with giant roasted chicken drumsticks and wings.  He now has a sword sheathed at his belt that clangs on each step as he moves down the stairs. Then Dom appears behind him with some golden herb-roasted potatoes and a stack of plates. Joey plops down on the seat next to me while Dom joins Quentin in the row in front of us. All the seats face the arena, so the three of us in the back are facing the back of their heads.

"We wondered where you two were hiding," I say to Dom and Joey. "Glad Quentin found someone that isn't as inept in the kitchen as me."

"Pssht," Quentin laughs. "They didn't help with shit. I just passed them in the hall on my way with the ribs and told them to bring the rest."

I look at Joey, but he is too busy smiling at the back of Dom's head to even notice me. Then I study Dom, and I realize her blonde hair seems a bit messier than it had been awhile ago. She is trying to ignore Joey. She takes a bite of her potato and sighs. It seems like she can feel him staring at her intently.

It doesn't take me very long to put it together. Something definitely happened between these two while they were off in the building somewhere. Joey nudges my arm with his elbow, then jerks his head at Dom. He mimes a few sexual thrusts in her direction and grins.

Danielle, watching this from the other side of me, laughs so hard she sprays a mouthful of wine on Quentin.

"What the hell!" Quentin jolts upright.

"What is he doing?" Dom asks me. Then her eyes dart to Joey, who sits there smirking and about to burst. "Shut up," she tells him. She turns back around and fiddles with some of the food on her plate.

"I'm really sorry," Danielle apologizes to Quentin.

Quentin looks at Joey, and then Dom. He sits down and grabs up a napkin and wipes at the wine on his arms and neck.

We all resume our meal quietly except Joey. After a minute or so he mumbles, "I banged the lesbian."

Dom drops her leg of roasted chicken on the plate with a thud and buries her face in her palms. No one dares laugh until Quentin with a big mouthful of chicken begins to chuckle, and shakes his head.

"Idiot," says Dom. She turns around to face Joey. "I'm clearly not a lesbian."

"Not anymore," he smiles.

"Ugh," she glances around at the rest of us. "Go ahead laugh it up. If I'm going to die here, I am at least getting a little before I go."

"Little?" says Quentin but before anyone can begin to laugh, we hear screaming and then the sound of the gun going
bang, bang, bang.

I push my chair back from the table and hurry up the stairs. I remove the gun from my waistband and flip off the safety as we run down the hall. Quentin holds the flashlight and scans the hallway as we race back to the break room. The employee lounge is dark and empty. The emergency light has shut off. Devin and Melanie are both gone. By the glow of the flashlight, we can see some drops of blood on the floor trailing out toward the hall.

"What the fuck happened?" asks Quentin. He follows the blood with the flashlight, then shines it around the empty hallway in the opposite direction from which we approached.

"It's Melanie," I say.

To make things worse, the beam of the flashlight dims, then flickers. Quentin shakes it, and the light comes back for a moment before we are submerged in total blackness.

"Where are the batteries?" I ask. Someone bumps into me, I can't even guess who, that's how dark it is with no windows in this place.

"I left them in the duffel bag over here," says Dom. She trips over a piece of furniture, and it crashes loudly on the tile floor. "Damn it, I can't see a thing."

Another scream echoes from farther off in the building.

"Did you find it?" I ask Dom.

"No," she whispers. "The fucking bag isn't here."

"Are you sure?"

"No, I can't see shit," she says. "It's not where I left it."

We hear a hoarse moan coming from the other direction in the hall now.

"Keep looking," I say. "We have to try and help them out there. Dom, keep this door shut unless you are absolutely sure it's safe to let anyone in, even one of us." I stop when I hear another noise in the hall.

"The horses," says Danielle. “They’re loose.”

The clomping of hooves on the tile floor gets louder and louder as the horse rushes past the doorway. I can hear the heavy, deep breathing as it passes.

"Man, this is fucked up," Joey whimpers.

"Shut up," says Quentin. "Blake, we can't just stand here."

"Okay, okay," I say. "Danielle come with me to check the stables for Chet. You guys see if you can track down Devin."

"I don't think we should be splitting up," says Quentin.

"I don't like it either, but this place is too big for that. We have to cover more ground or we won't find either of them before it's too late."

Even though I can't see him, the prolonged silence tells me he still isn't crazy about any of it. Finally, Quentin mutters, "C'mon dumbass,” and we listen as he hustles off down the hall alongside Joey.

"You ready?" I ask Danielle.

"No," she whispered. "But we have to go." I hear her tell Dom she'd be closing the door and then the soft click of the lock snapping into place.

We head the opposite way down the hall that Quentin and Joey had gone. Danielle rests a hand on my shoulder to keep track of my movements in the blackness. I squint my eyes trying to make out anything I can, not just looking for a human shape, but anything I might bump into that would make a noise and give away our location. I try to remember where the door is that leads to the paddocks, but I only remember the layout vaguely. I am mostly following the smell of hay and horse shit. My palms get slick with sweat. I try to move steadily, but my muscles tremble from the terror.

I notice Danielle's grip tighten on my shoulder. I wish I didn't have to bring her along, but I may not be able to do any of this alone. Danielle is the only person among us that might have any idea how to corral the loose horses. She is also the only one that can help if someone is injured.

I ease over towards the wall on my left, feeling my way down the hall with my left hand and with my right I am pointing the gun at a wall of blackness. I pause when I feel the cold, steel doorknob.

I really just want to try and call out to Chet, but I don't dare. I don't even know for sure this is the right door, or what else might be around to hear me. I turn the handle slowly, and ease the door open with the weight of my body. The smell of horses wafts over me. For a moment, we just stand in the doorway listening.

I hear the dry, scraping hiss of straw pushed around the floor. There is something in there, which I can only hope is just a horse. I try to squint, but it's useless. I could wave my hand a few inches in front of my face right now and fail to see it. We creep forward down the aisle. I can hear the heavy hooves of a horse in one of the stalls. Faint vibrations emanate through the concrete floor whenever the huge animal moves. There are a few sudden thuds, then a loud bang. Maybe it kicked a stall or ran into something. It must be spooked. I know I am. Since there seemed to be no reaction to the sound, I start to feel confident there is no one else in the stable with us. I move a little more boldly down the center aisle between the stalls. "Chet" I hiss into the darkness, but there is no answer.

I lower the gun and finally feel a little release in the tension of my muscles. I can feel the hot breath of the horse on my face, so I know it must be holding its head out in the aisle just a few inches beside me.

"Easy, gal," I hear Danielle whisper, and I realize she is calming the mare by stroking her nose.

The next thing I know, I'm laying flat on my ass. It takes me a second to figure out how I got knocked down. I thought I heard a gunshot but can't be sure. The horse is gone. It must have gotten spooked by the gunshot and came crashing out, knocking us down. I hear a nearby moan. I feel around in the dark for Danielle, finally touching what I think is her arm.

"Are you hurt?" I whisper.

"I don't know," she groans. "I think I'm okay."

"Come on, let's get back to the room.” I hold her arm and lead the way back down the row of paddocks. Instead of total blackness, there is just the faintest trickle of light now spilling from an open doorway across the hall that leads to the arena. Silently, we edge close to the door one slow step at a time.

In the center of the arena floor is the flashlight, abandoned on the ground. Dust from the sandy surface plays in the beam of light and swirls off into the darkness. A few feet from the origin of the light, there's an unmoving form that partially blocks the beam. It can only be a body lying on the ground. One of the horses I think at first, but then I realize the body is too small.

"Who is it?" ask Danielle.

"I can't tell," I say. "We need to get that flashlight."

I take a couple of the steps that lead down to the arena. Six-foot high walls surround the oval dirt floor. I stop to scan for another way down other than jumping the barrier. The only other access seems to be the tunnel that opens under the grandstands on our right. I throw one leg over the edge and lower myself down to the sand. I turn around and grab Danielle around the waist to help her down. We both turn back around to see the figure slowly rising from the ground. The person is hunched on their hands and knees now. I still can't tell who it is, or if they are alive or dead. I watch as the dark shape lurches upright, then rises to stand in the beam of the flashlight. I see the black Converse shoes.

"Devin," I whisper, but there is no response. He breathes a quiet moan as he takes a step toward us. I reach behind my back and feel the place where the gun should be. I must have dropped it when the horse knocked us over in the paddocks. I don't dare try and make a move on the flashlight without anything to defend myself. I grab Danielle's wrist, and she follows me up the slight embankment as we enter the blackness under the grandstands. The tunnel curves around to the right. We emerge back up near the door to the stables.  We hurry back down the aisles between the stalls and feel around on the floor where I had fallen.