Carlie was skulking beside the edge of
the second cement flower garden when she heard a dragging noise to her left.
Gripping the shovel, she squatted low against the coarse concrete wall. She
still felt the nervous jolt of adrenaline surging through her entire body and
queasiness in her stomach but it had returned to more manageable levels.
The campus lights lining the sidewalk
were not functioning and she had to strain her eyes in the dim moonlight to see
what was headed her way. The air held a hint of moisture and a thundercloud was
towering in the distance. She couldn’t shake the nauseating odor of blood and
viscera that was emanating from the cement path, and she raised her shirt
collar over her nose to help quell the stench.
Carlie eased her head up between a clump
of yucca plants and could see a disheveled person with a soiled red chin
shuffling down the sidewalk. It looked like a man in his early twenties who
wore a red jersey. His face was the color of butter and his eyes were bulging out
of deeply furrowed cheeks. The creature’s right sleeve was torn off and one
shoe was missing as he staggered up to a headless corpse by a park bench. It sniffed
the air, searching for the body, then knelt down and began greedily tearing
into the trapezius muscles.
Christ
—
what the hell is that thing?
Never heard of anything like this before. It’s like the whole world has turned
into something out of a midnight horror flick.
As she began to slide forward while
keeping her eyes fixed on the scene of horror, the edge of the tarnished shovel
grazed the concrete wall. The creature instantly whipped its head around in her
direction and sat up, sniffing the air. She saw its wild eyes trying to locate
the sound and looking right at her but not comprehending her still image.
The
wind is carrying my scent away. The creature can’t locate me. Its eyesight must
be severely affected by the darkness. Finally, one thing I can use to my
advantage.
A second later it went back to feasting,
but then it lifted its head again and stood. This time it focused its gaze in the
opposite direction, towards the nursing building across the street where a
group of eight other creatures were pounding on a door. The creature before
Carlie let out a guttural cry and then bounded over the pavement to join the
others, who had succeeded in breaking through the door. They disappeared inside
and Carlie heard some muffled screams, followed by silence.
After skirting the flowerbed, she crept
up to a park bench and could see the Suburbans thirty yards ahead. She thought
back to the many deer hunts she had gone on with her father in upstate New York.
She had learned skills of stealth that she had further refined in the urban
wilderness while working various security details over the years. Carlie
remained in a low squat and cautiously moved from one derelict light post to
the next, avoiding stepping on the scattered body parts littering the pavement.
Cautiously she beelined for her SUV,
which was half hanging out of the shattered front lobby of the bioresearch building.
She made it to the driver’s side and paused to make sure she hadn’t alerted any
creatures. Leaning the shovel next to the front of the vehicle, she climbed
inside over the back seats. Depressing the finger pad code on the lid of the
weapons locker, she pulled out a dozen rifle and pistol magazines, two pistol
suppressors, a first-aid kit, four smoke grenades, the satellite phone and
solar battery charger, two pairs of night-vision goggles, a lock-pick set, and the
.308 sniper rifle. She jammed the smaller items in a backpack from the rear
cargo area and then slung the rifle across her back after exiting the Suburban.
She began retracing her steps when she
heard subdued voices coming from behind a door under the stairs. Carlie moved
past the front of the vehicle and listened intently. She could make out a man
and woman whispering. Moving towards the utility closet, she slowly threaded
the suppressor onto the barrel of her pistol, then positioned herself against the
wall with the weapon aimed low.
She tapped lightly on the hollow door. “Who
is inside? Identify yourself.”
The voices grew silent and then she
heard a man’s voice. “David and Nadine. We’re students here. Are you the
police?”
“I’m federal law enforcement. Unlock the
door—you’re not safe holed up here.”
She heard the hinges creak as the door
slowly opened, revealing the pale faces of the young pair. The man looked to be
around nineteen and had shoulder-length hair and multiple ear piercings on his
left side; he was clad in pajama bottoms, slippers, and a white sleeveless
shirt. The woman was a few years older with a deeply tan face and blond
pigtails. She had almond-brown hair and was dressed in jeans, a red t-shirt,
and cowboy boots.
Like petrified zoo animals peering out
of their cage, they slowly moved out of the confines of the closet and stood up
next to Carlie.
“You’re a cop?” said David.
“Can you get us out of here?” whispered
Nadine.
“No to the first question and a big
maybe to the second. How long have you been hiding here?”
“I don’t know,” said Nadine. “We were
headed to bio class after breakfast when those things started attacking
everyone.”
Carlie looked over the man’s clothing
while shaking her head. “You go to class in your PJs and velvet slippers, eh?”
David frowned. “What are you doing here
and what’s with the rifle?”
“My name’s Carlie. I work for the
federal government and what I’m doing here will be revealed to you shortly when
we get back to a more secure location over by the pharmacy building.”
“We’re going out there with all those things
roamin’ around?” said David.
“I just came from there. Follow my lead
and don’t make any abrupt movements—I think these creatures have poor vision at
night.”
They both reached back into the closet
and removed their daypacks, then followed Carlie out to the rear bumper of the
SUV. She scanned the courtyard and then motioned for them to drop low and
follow her to the first flower garden. She stopped and grabbed the shovel,
handing it to David, who gave it a puzzled look and then handed it to Nadine,
who gripped it firmly in her calloused hands.
They made it to the edge of the pharmacy
building and paused to survey the region behind them. Carlie saw three more
creatures forty yards away fighting over a mutilated arm and a few more over by
a drinking fountain, wandering aimlessly. As she turned to move, she noticed a
lone figure striding down the central sidewalk that separated the courtyard.
This figure moved with purpose and was not staggering like the others. It moved
towards the drinking fountain, stopping momentarily to smell the air around the
other creatures, then shoved them out of the way and continued walking north.
It had the bearing of an aggressive Rottweiler intent on defending its
territory.
The trio resumed stalking to the back
door of the pharmaceutical building where Phillip was waiting. Once they were
inside, they retreated back to the stairwell as he quietly locked the door.
“Whoa, that’s some serious firepower,
bro,” said David to Phillip after looking over the display of weapons hanging
off his shoulder and belt.
Phillip moved alongside Carlie. “Where
did you find these two scholars?” he whispered.
“Crouching in a broom closet by the
vehicles.”
Phillip leaned closer. “Under normal
circumstances, I’m all for providing assistance to those in need, but what are
we supposed to do with them? There’s only going to be so much room on the
rescue helo.”
“We’ll cross that bridge soon enough. I
wasn’t about to leave ’em alone and defenseless,” she said, taking the sat
phone and spare batteries out of her pack and handing him the sniper rifle.
“I’m going to step over by an open window out back and make a call to cent-com
in D.C.” Carlie walked off, leaving Phillip to go through the contents of the
pack.
****
Over by the far wall, the four survivors
were nervously doing first-name introductions and exchanging stories of their
narrow escapes. After staring at Eliza and then back at Phillip in the distance,
David raised his eyebrows and snapped his fingers. “Hey, wait a second, Eliza,
is your last name Huntington, as in President Huntington’s daughter?”
Eliza scrunched her nose and lowered her
head. “I’m afraid so.”
“You’re the one on campus with the
entourage of guys in suits always following you from a distance, aren’t you?”
said Nadine.
“Check that box, too. And don’t forget
the reporters and photographers hanging out in the cafeteria, by my dorm room,
and the coffee shops around town. Wherever I go, there they are, waiting for
the moment when I slip up.”
“So those two agents are here to get you
out? Aren’t there any more of them?”
Eliza looked up at the ceiling while
folding her arms. “That was the plan.” Eliza gazed over David and Nadine’s
unkempt appearance and took a deep sigh. “I’ve always longed for the day when I
can look like you two—and just be so…so ordinary.”
“Still, it must be totally
rad
having the White House as your home,” said David.
“I hate the White House, and the Oval
Office, and Camp David, and family dinners with visiting dignitaries, and
anything else associated with politics. There’s a reason I came to Arizona—to
get as far away from that world as possible, so spare me the ‘aren’t you lucky’
speech. I’m not even sure why we’re talking about this given all that’s just
happened.”
As Jared dashed for the campus building,
he glanced over his shoulder and saw two creatures twenty yards away and
gaining. One of them was wearing a shirt that read Cheese Freak’s Pizzeria and
the other was a football player in cleats. Then he heard dull thuds and saw
them collapsed on the sidewalk, their heads split apart. He briefly saw a
glimmer of rifle fire from a distant roof downtown. Jared made a sharp left
turn by a campus security booth and then made the final sprint for the building
ahead. As he sprinted across the lot, he stepped in a puddle of semi-dried
blood, which soiled his Nikes. He looked down in disgust.
Across the courtyard, he saw a few
creatures wandering around but no sign of movement near the illuminated lobby
before him. The sign outside the entrance indicated it was the Toxicology Laboratory.
He could see the extra thick security glass and reinforced foundations around
the lobby.
Jared knew he would be silhouetted by
the light so he opted to head to a side door fifty feet to the rear. He was
standing in the darkness a few feet from a headless woman. Beside her wispy, fly-bitten
corpse was a spilt bag of groceries. In the subdued light he made out several
squashed bananas, a bottle of shampoo, assorted yogurts, and a package of
sugar-free Gummi Bears. He reached down and grabbed the sweets, popping a sticky
green bear into his mouth
.
He shoved the rest of the package in his
back pocket and then swiveled his head to either side, searching for movement.
Jared crouched low and darted for the metal exit door, gluing his back to the
stucco wall upon arriving. He tucked one Glock into his beltline and worked the
door handle with his right hand as one end of the handcuff swung like a
pendulum, its polished surface glinting in the faint light.
Feeling the door locked, he shrugged and
then held his right hand up so one end of the handcuff chain dangled over the
deadbolt, and then placed the muzzle of the Glock on the chain. Jared noticed
his hands trembling, which caused him to scrunch his eyebrows together in
wonderment. He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger as the .40 caliber bullet
shattered the silver chain and liberated the door lock. He opened one eye and
tried to hold back a smile of self-admiration, then yanked the door open and
ran inside, entering a stairwell.
Emergency lights shone throughout the
levels above. He was about to sprint up the stairs to the fourth floor, where
he had seen the lights, but heard the sound of screaming. His eyes raced along
the walls as he tried to shut out the noise and think of where to run. He
spotted an acrylic sign on the wall to his right which read “Mortuary Sciences
Below.”
Great
—
more dead bodies. Sounds like the shindig I just left.
He jogged down the cement stairs for two
levels to the last floor and slowly opened the heavy door, his Glock trained on
the hallway. He could hear faint voices–coming from a room ten feet away.
Hey, alright, some other survivors. Now
if they can only be the U of A cheerleading squad, I can die a happy man,
he thought as
he entered the chilly air of the hallway.
He stood outside the stainless-steel
door and strained to make out the voices inside. It sounded like five or six
people were discussing their plan for fleeing the campus. He tapped the pistol
on the door and moved alongside the cement wall, hearing the voices inside grow
silent.
“Hey, open up in there. I’m all alone
and need a place to hide out.” He could hear the voice of a young woman arguing
with others inside.
“You wanna survive the night, you should
consider letting me in,” Jared said. “I’ve just come from downtown and there
are a whole lot of creatures out there who are gonna be looking for fresh meat
soon.”
The arguing continued inside until the
woman finally told the others to be quiet. Then the door opened slightly and Jared
saw the face of a lovely brunette appear with a golf club in her hand. She was
dressed in navy blue pants and a light blue shirt, and wore a bronze badge
above her shirt pocket which read,
Amy, Paramedic
. She moved into the
hallway, looking over Jared and the pistols in his possession and then scanning
both directions of the hallway. “Quick, get inside,” she said, tugging on his
shirt, the sleeve of which he made sure concealed the single handcuff.