Riposte (The Redivivus Trilogy Book 2) (38 page)

“Shit! I’m out,” John said from atop the bank. His third shot entered the face of the next closest rev, but clearly missed the brain as it succeeded only in spinning the thing around. John dug through his small pack before his hand came to rest on a rifle magazine. His heart sank as he pulled it out and noticed how light it was.

The next rev in line for the Reams buffet was still over ten feet away and just now getting itself turned back around. John slung his rifle and called, “Hang on, buddy. We’ll get you out of there.” Despite his words, he had no idea how he and Kate could accomplish such a Herculean task. His first thought was of him stretching down to give Reams a hand while Kate held his legs. As soon as Reams transferred any weight to their tenuously clasped hands, he imagined all three of them plunging headlong into the shallow water. Looking around for the rope that had snapped, or any other means to haul the big man up from the bottom of the ravine, John noticed the root Reams was holding onto for dear life. In a burst of inspiration, an idea materialized in John’s mind.

Dropping to his knees, John frantically dug through his pack until he found the length of paracord stowed inside. When he held it up, he immediately doubted the thin cord could support even half of Reams’ weight. He recalled his old friend, Al, rattling on about the amazing properties of the small rope. Al had mentioned that the rope was called paracord-550—the
550
referring to the weight it could handle or some other measure of its strength. John prayed Al was right, as he tied several loop knots along the length of rope. Noting the rev whose face he blew off was now less than five feet from Reams, he rushed to secure the rope to a nearby tree trunk. John let out the breath he had been holding when he tossed the rope into the ravine and saw that it just reached the water’s edge. “Reams, climb up. Hurry! There’s a group of infected heading toward us up here,” John said excitedly.

Reams wasted no time scaling the steep bank; he was halfway to the top by the time the faceless rev made it to the bottom of the rope. When Reams reached the lip, both John and Kate hooked him under the armpits and hauled him up the rest of the way.

Despite being muddy and exhausted, Reams managed to keep pace with John and Kate as they raced through the forest in hopes of staying ahead of the horde approaching from the west. They came to a break in the trees and found themselves pressed up against a fence surrounding a baseball field.

Inside the enclosure, a makeshift refugee camp lay in shambles. Trash littered the ground and abandoned tents, shredded and partially collapsed, fluttered in the breeze. Several revs wandered aimlessly amidst the rotting corpses and detritus strewn across the former playing field. Hoping to avoid another encounter with the infected, the three survivors skirted along the outside of the fence, being careful to remain out of sight as they moved in a northwesterly direction. When they rounded the corner of the enclosed field, they turned northeast and saw the tops of a cluster of buildings rising above the trees in the distance.

“There! Up ahead. We’re almost there,” Kate exclaimed.

Kate’s words, the buildings—after all they had been through, none of it seemed real to John. He simply could not allow himself to believe they had actually made it. To do so felt like daring the heavens to throw yet another insurmountable obstacle in their path.

Immediately ahead, the woods parted where a set of train tracks cut a narrow swath through the trees. As they climbed onto the rails that appeared to stretch to infinity in one direction, they were relieved to find they were clear. Gazing in the opposite direction, John saw the outline of several derailed train cars lying motionless, like the dead bodies of so many beached whales. Something that would have been a major headline a month ago garnered little more than a second glance as they dropped down off the tracks and disappeared back into the trees. When the forest began to thin, the full outline of the CDC facility came into view.

“Not another fence,” Reams groaned in frustration.

The woods ended abruptly several hundred feet past the train tracks; the only obstacle between them and the CDC campus was the tall fence protecting its southern border. Staring through the chain link at the deserted expanse beyond, none of them said a word as they took in the bleak landscape. There was no movement inside the fence, and for a split second, John thought he would have welcomed the sight of a rev shambling around—at least it would have been something. From their vantage point, only a fraction of the sprawling facility was visible. A small lake set less than twenty feet from the fence, eliminating any possibility of heading to the left once inside. The majority of the buildings lay to the right, and they could just make out the aftermath of a fierce battle blanketing the land in the distance.

Spurred on by the knowledge that the infected horde was still on their trail, they scaled the tall fence quickly and quietly. Although it was eerily quiet, a subtle energy buzzed in the air, like that of a coiled snake waiting for the right moment to strike. Having not completely accepted they had made it, they wondered when scores of revs would come swarming out like the cruel punch line of a sick joke.

After a full minute in which nothing happened, Kate said, “So that’s it? We’re here? Where do we go now?”

To be honest, John was not entirely sure where they should go or what they should do. The overall lack of activity made him seriously question whether he had correctly interpreted Lin’s broken call so long ago. He was not sure what he had expected to find. Perhaps a few soldiers and scientists rushing about inside a well-fortified and well-guarded compound—certainly more than what they had found. Fighting back his sinking feeling, John said, “I’m not sure. I guess we just keep going and see what we find farther in.”

John knew his answer sounded lame, but if Reams or Kate shared his concerns, he could not tell. Their decision was made for them when they heard the first of the pursuing revs kicking gravel against the metal rails in the forest behind them.

They crept forward nervously, as though waiting for some ghoulish monster to jump out at any moment. All around them they saw the evidence of a bloody confrontation between man and rev. The final resting place of so many people, spent bullet casings and blood-spattered concrete told the lurid tale of the now quiet battlefield. Corpses—unburied and rotting—occupied nearly every inch of space, making it seem as if the trio were walking on a carpet of the dead. Blood, long since dried to a dark ruddy brown, stained everything. Not even the shameless carrion scavengers dared to venture into the cursed and diseased place. Never in his worst nightmares had John imagined such an unholy wasteland.

When his mind was finally able to see past the pall of death spread across the ground, John noticed the crashed vehicles and abandoned bunkers—evidence of the military’s failure to hold back the infected scourge. While a few buildings appeared relatively unscathed, most bore signs of significant damage. One building situated on the far side of the lake was little more than a charred concrete hull. It was clear that whatever had happened there had been horrible and all encompassing.

The uneasy silence filling the air was broken by a sound so faint it was difficult to say it was there at all. As they walked, it slowly grew in intensity until none of them could deny it. Although they saw no infected, the telltale moans echoing between the ghostly forms of the buildings broadcast their presence. When the path they were following split, veering sharply to the left and the right, John thought he heard the infected coming from his left. He turned to investigate, but saw nothing aside from the same death and destruction that covered the rest of the campus grounds. Frustrated and concerned, John said, “The way sound bounces around between these buildings, I can’t get a fix on the revs.”

From behind him, Kate let out a sharp gasp.  Whirling around, John saw Kate and Reams staring at over twenty revs eagerly stumbling toward them.

Even though most of the CDC’s buildings lay to the right of their position, they turned left in hopes of outpacing the approaching horde. What they saw when the path curved around made their hearts drop. Directly ahead of them was a far more formidable barricade, besieged by an even larger horde numbering in the hundreds. The mass of infected was such that even pressed against the concrete wall, they extended out far enough to block the path to the right. Once again turning left, the path led them to a wide expanse that was once a common area for the campus—its well-manicured planters replaced by a sea of carnage. While there were revs scattered throughout the innumerable dead, they were far fewer in number than either other option they had.

“Decisions, decisions,” John said, in an attempt to lighten the mood and dispel his own rising trepidation.

26

October 25, 2015

“Ice, can you see what’s got the crowd so stirred up?” Garza asked. The
crowd
he referred to was the horde of infected perpetually plastered against the concrete barricade surrounding the only remaining CDC buildings that had not been overrun or otherwise destroyed. Staring through a pair of binoculars, Ice shook his head without taking the optics away from his eyes.

Given that Garza was an active duty member of the U.S. military, he fell in line with the rest of the men under Lt. Weaver’s command when he arrived at the CDC. Despite the fact that General Montes had no authority over Lt. Weaver or any of the other soldiers, they all respected the veteran Brazilian officer and treated him almost like one of their own commanding officers. For her part, Lin had completely immersed herself in the task of advancing Dr. Bank’s research. Anthony and Charon were given a loose leash and allowed to do as they pleased, provided they stayed out of the way, inside the wall, and out of trouble. Everyone at the facility found the boy and his dog to be a welcomed addition, reminding each of them of a small part of the lives they used to have.

Ice and Garza were on perimeter patrol until nightfall, at which time another group would rotate on. Despite having been fully assimilated into the group of soldiers, Garza had yet to learn Ice’s real name. All he knew about the man was that he was quiet, well respected by the other soldiers, and he loved to blow things up. Not only was demolition his specialty, it was his obsession. It was rumored that he had been on the bomb squad but quit when he discovered that his desire to detonate far surpassed his desire to defuse.

As was typical, the patrol detail that day consisted primarily of walking, watching, and listening to the incessant moans of the infected crowd. A few hours into the shift, however, Garza noticed a change in both the volume and quality of their sounds. They seemed agitated, and Garza had a brief flashback to when they were surrounded outside the barricade just before Mother’s men opened fire on the monsters a few weeks ago.

After completing his scan of the area, Ice turned to Garza, and said, “All I saw was the same old rotten shit I see every time I’m on patrol. The crowd may have shifted a little—probably just chasing after a squirrel. You know how they are. Why do you ask? Did you see something?”

“No, they just sound excited,” Garza said.

“Excited? Those shitheads don’t get excited. They don’t
get
anything,” Ice said.

Knowing that visualization of the area immediately adjacent to the wall was limited from Ice’s position, Garza said, “I’m gonna head up to obs and make sure I don’t see anything from there.”

As soon as he reached the elevated platform of the nearby observation tower, Garza saw the cause of their agitation. Three survivors, two men and a woman, were weaving through the rotting cesspool that was the former commons between the main buildings of the CDC campus. Although he had not been there at the time, Garza knew it had been the scene of a fierce battle early in the course of the outbreak; the innumerable decaying corpses littering the grounds served as a testament to that fact. Most, if not all of the infected, were shifting their attention toward the fleeing survivors. “Ice! There are survivors inside the fence! We need to help them!” Garza yelled.

Ice looked up at him, and said coldly, “L.T. gave us strict orders not to risk anyone for any civilians dumb enough to wander in here.”

“I have eyes on three—a big guy, another of average size, and a woman. The crowd has spotted them and is in pursuit,” Garza stated urgently as though he had not heard Ice’s reply.

“Well then, there’s not much we can do for them, is there?” Ice stated matter-of-factly.

Like a matchstick igniting, Garza’s anger flared and he wheeled on the soldier. He thought about his own decision to help General Montes get Dr. San to this facility. He had not done so because he was bound by any order to do so. He did it because it was the right thing to do. Garza knew when he shook Montes’ hand and agreed to help that he had a good chance of dying because of his decision, yet he did it anyway. When he could no longer see the backs of the fleeing survivors beyond the wall of infected chasing after them, Garza made up his mind once again.

Climbing down, he said, “Screw that, Ice! That’s cowardly bullshit! We’ve got about a dozen people here out of this whole damn city of millions, and I’m not gonna let three more die without trying to do something about it.”

Garza pushed past the other soldier, moving in the direction of the survivors. Expecting Ice to give him some rhetoric about following orders, Garza was surprised when Ice said, “Okay. What’s the plan?”

* * *

On the far side of the common area, a heavy metal ramp extended from the ground up to an elevated walkway that wound back toward the barricade encircling the centrally located buildings. “John, head for that ramp! Maybe there’s a way out up there,” Reams said breathlessly.

A thin film of moisture on the ramp in combination with their muddy, gore-caked boots made their footing precarious, forcing them to ascend on all fours. Upon reaching the top of the ramp, they turned right, hoping to find a way around the north side of the wall. As they ran, John racked his brain for a way out of the nightmare they had stumbled into.

Fortunately, the ramp proved to be an even bigger encumbrance for the infected. They simply lacked the coordination and agility to deal with the slick surface. Like a row of dominoes, when the first one fell, many others followed suit. Eventually, a few of the infected successfully reached the top of the ramp by climbing over their fallen brethren, forced upward by others eager to follow their lead. Those that remained on the ground tracked the survivors as they ran back toward the barricade. The revs pressed against the stone wall supporting the elevated sidewalk, continuously clawing to get to the trio that was hopelessly out of reach.

The walkway came to a dead end at the former northwest corner of the barricade. Having sustained extensive damage during the fighting in the early days of the outbreak, the northern wall of the barricade had been breached and deemed unsalvageable. As such, a new one was erected roughly thirty feet inside the original. Although the number of infected on the opposite side of the section of wall directly ahead of them was far less than on the ground of the commons below, the fact that there were any was unknown to the three survivors as they approached.

Winded, Garza reached the northwest corner just as the horde of infected began to pile up outside the barricade. He climbed onto the wall and stared down into the seething mass, hundreds of vacant eyes staring back at him. His hopes fell when he did not see the survivors, and he assumed the worst. Fearing he was too late, Garza began to descend from the tower when a woman’s voice called out:

“Hey, is anybody there? Over here! Help us!”

Leaping back onto the platform, Garza scanned the area, not realizing where the voice came from until the woman called out a second time. Originally, he had planned to lower a rope for the three survivors, but he had not anticipated them heading up the ramp. If he were to drop the rope from his current position, it would land uselessly in the midst of the horde amassed in the common area. With the new wall set inside the original, he simply could not get close enough to drop the rope straight down to the three survivors huddled on the elevated walkway. As he tried to think of a new plan, Garza’s face went pale when he saw that nearly twenty infected had made it up the ramp and were closing in on the cornered survivors.

“Think, Garza, think,” he said quietly. At once an idea came to him, and he called to Ice who had just reached the base of the wall. “Ice, fire up the distraction.”

“Garz, helping these folks out against orders is one thing, but Mother will be supremely pissed if we make all that noise—especially when he finds out why we’re doing it. Besides, we don’t even know who these guys are. What if they’re like,
serial killers,
or some shit? You never know,” Ice said.

Garza fixed him with an intense stare that said
you do it or I will
. Realizing that Garza’s mind was set, and that they were likely already screwed either way, Ice replied, “Okay…but don’t think I won’t tell him you made me do it.”

Garza gave him an appreciative look and nodded before turning back to the survivors. With the band of infected getting closer, they pressed back against the wall, and Garza could no longer see them. “I’m going to lower a rope. Get ready to move south along the wall when you see the crowd start to move away.  We’re going to distract them. Stay out of sight until then. Watch out for the group of infected heading down the path in your direction,” Garza called over the wall. Hearing no reply, he hoped they heard and understood him.

Below, Reams said, “Did he say
move south
? Doesn’t he see the twenty-foot drop into a pile of revs standing in a cesspool of rotting corpses? I, for one, don’t feel much like crowd-surfing in that mosh pit.”

“I got nothing else,” John said with despair in his voice. “Let’s hope he knows what he’s doing, but just in case, be ready to fight through those revs heading toward us.”

Reams and Kate nodded reluctantly.

All of a sudden, a surreal and eerie sound rent the air, drowning out that of the infected mass. Echoing between the buildings, the haunting sound of an old banjo was soon joined by a lonesome voice that called to mind a ghostly breeze whistling through a hangman’s noose. Much like the sound of the revs earlier, the disorienting music reverberated such that it was difficult to determine its point of origin, causing something akin to confusion amongst many of the infected. Some simply stopped moving while others changed directions all together. When a rapid, multicolored barrage of extremely bright light began pulsing near the southwest corner of the barricade, the closest of the infected took notice immediately and shambled in its direction.

O, Death

O, Death

Won’t you spare me over till another year

What is this that I can see

With icy hands takin’ hold of me

I am death and none can tell

I open the door to heaven and hell

Garza was transfixed by the sight of over one hundred infected being drawn away by the light and sound show Ice was putting on. He was left seeing spots when he accidentally looked at the light generator for a split second. Many of the infected atop the walkway also found the powerful stimuli overwhelming, causing them to walk blindly over the edge in an attempt to reach the source. Unfortunately, the lead revs already had their infected brains set on the three survivors, and no amount of distraction was going to interfere with their reptilian instincts.

I’m death come to take your soul

Leave the body and leave it cold

To drop the flesh off of the frame

The earth and worms both have a claim

O, Death

O, Death

With a look of bewilderment in his eyes, John said, “I’ll be damned. I never dreamed I would be saved by Dock Boggs.”

Looking even more confused, Reams replied, “What? Who the hell is that? You know that guy?”

“The music—never mind. The light and sound is drawing the revs away,” John said in a hopeful tone.

“And the guy on top of the wall has a rope in hand,” Kate added.

Looking over the edge, Reams said, “We’re not really going to jump down there, are we?”

“Do you have a better idea?” John asked, as he pointed to the ten or so revs still approaching.

“Shit,” Reams said, realizing there was nothing else to say on the matter.

“I’ll jump down first. You lower Kate as far as you can, then drop her to me,” John said to Reams.

“Oh, you guys are so sweet,” Kate said, her words drenched in sarcasm.

“Who’s going to catch me?” Reams asked.

The way he said it, John was unsure if he was joking. “I got you big guy,” John replied with a shit-eating grin that ensured Reams he was on his own.

Once again, Reams said the only thing that fit. “Shit!”

* * *

Reams landed with a hard thud, and his feet seemed to sink a foot into the boggy field of death before his body pitched forward. He rolled to dissipate the momentum, and the muddy gore sloshed onto his neck before sliding down his back. The odor combined with the tickle of the rancid fluid running across his skin caused a shiver to rack his entire body. It felt as though one of the infected was lightly stroking his skin, and he had to fight the urge to run screaming as he clawed at his back. Leaping to his feet, Reams said, “Shit!”

“You keep saying that. I’m sure they’ve got a bathroom inside,” John said.

“Smart-ass white boy,” Reams muttered under his breath.

“There’s the Reams I know and love. I knew you were in there, buddy,” John added.

Just then, a thick rope thudded against the barricade. Kate gave it a tug and found it was secure. With the rope in hand, she smiled at them. They were surprised by the renewed look of hope that neither had seen nor felt in a long time. It was contagious, and they felt their own spirits lift.

To John, her expression was proof they had finally made it. In her simple smile, he saw hope for the future they were fighting for, and in that instant, he thought it possible to find closure and keep hope alive at the same time. He realized that he, like Kate, had made hope dependent on the presence of a single thing, rather than viewing it like a state of mind. That was the flaw in his line of thinking. Hope was far bigger than any one thing, no matter how significant that thing was to a person. He wondered if Kate had that same realization, or if perhaps she had known all along.