June 14th, 2008
2:00am
Maintenance Tunnels
Peace let a triumphant yell and jumped from the ladder to the ground, skipping the last few rungs. "We made it!" he said, exuberantly.
All seven Fools and their supplies were crowded into a small room under the Machine Shop. The curved walls were mostly bare, holding only dormant track lights and several pipes. Some were insulated, others were not. The ladder above them and a door at the far end of the room were the only exits.
They were in an access room to the network of maintenance tunnels beneath Purdue. The tunnels were something of an urban legend around campus, rumored to have been built for mundane uses like utilities (steam, water, sewage, electric and internet cables) and maintenance (access to most buildings and sensitive structures), or for more exotic uses (for the campus nuclear reactor, as a safety measure during the Cold War, or at least a warmer way to walk to campus). They were also rumored to be unaccessible for different reasons, such as post 9/11 security, unsafe conditions, or even because of dead bodies.
"We're not out of this yet," Kamikaze said in a grim tone as she shined her flashlight beam on Peace.
"Yeah," T.Rex said, "but good job, everybody. I thought we were done for back there. Taking Harrison Street back to Discovery Park should have been the best way to go, the way with the least zombies. I don't know where that bus or all those zeds came from, though. Then once I saw the crowd waiting for us, I made an executive decision to head into the Machine Shop. At the time, I thought it was our best option. I thought we'd find something there."
"We almost didn't get in," Cowboy said, scowling.
"I know, and I think we should all thank Angel Hair for that one in particular," T.Rex said.
"Time out!" Rubble said, sweeping his hands out horizontally. There was a moment of group silence, then "Huzzah!" they all cheered in unison, just like in practice.
"Time in," Rubble said, resuming the conversation.
"So yeah, good work saving the equipment and I'm happy we escaped down here. Now we have to find an exit. Preferably somewhere isolated," T.Rex continued. "But first, lights off and snacks out. I want everybody hydrated, rested, and energized."
"Wait, we have to turn out the lights?" Cowboy said in a confused tone.
"Unless you know the layout of these tunnels, I'd like to conserve battery power until we're out. The room we're in is empty, and we'll stack our stuff in front of the door over there. I'm pretty sure the zeds above us can't even hear us through that cover, much less think to lift it and come get us."
The Fools took turns placing their bags by the door, carefully removing their limited rations. They formed a loose circle on the floor and one by one extinguished their flashlights until darkness reigned.
A few minutes went by without conversation as the Fools rested. Food wrappers crinkled, echoing faintly in the room.
Beard spoke first. "So what was with that barrel, T.Rex?"
Ryan was fortunate the darkness obscured his face. "That was, uh, y'know... improvising?" Everybody chuckled. "Seriously, I dunno. I thought it might have something more volatile inside, or maybe pressurized, and that the detonation might have cleared some or most of the zeds out. When it didn't, I just kinda...froze, I guess."
The Fools continued to chatter, describing to each other the action that some had missed, including the Machine Shop ramp battle, the discovery of the tunnel hatch, and some well placed shots and harrowing close calls.
T.Rex fumbled in the darkness for his own pack and unzipped a pocket, drawing out a strip of cloth. As he listened to the tales of action, he carefully removed the loose, ragged dressing on his arm wound and replaced it with a fresh homemade bandage.
As the conversation wound down, T.Rex addressed the group. "Alright everybody, are we about ready to move? Everybody get some water to drink?" The Fools responded in turn and Ryan was convinced they were all ready. "Somebody volunteer to be our single flashlight for a bit and we'll head out."
Cowboy strode forward and shined his beam right in T.Rex's line of sight. "Pip pip, cheerio!" he called out in a fake British accent.
T.Rex shielded his eyes from the light, blinking awkwardly. "The next time zombies descend upon this earth and destroy our civilization," he said sarcastically, "somebody remind me to pack red cellophane, okay?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Cowboy said, now interrogating T.Rex with his flashlight.
Kamikaze jumped in the conversation. "If you tape red cellophane over a light source, it's a cheap way of adjusting it so you won't lose your dark adapted eyes," she said. "I do it a lot when I go stargazing so I can read star charts."
Cowboy tapped his temples in acknowledgment, with the traditional improv "ahhhh" to match.
"Alright," T.Rex said. "We go through this door and look for any sort of exit, not just left or right but possibly up. Weapons out and ready, and I want Beard to go last. Keep an eye out for trouble, and don't talk unless you have to. I'm guessing the acoustics in the tunnel are going to be awful and I don't want our voices alerting a bunch of zeds while we're boxed in like this. Let's move."
When the door was opened a musty draft wafted in. The breeze coming from the tunnels was cool and felt like natural air conditioning when compared to the humid summer weather the Fools had been living in recently.
The group stared forward and saw the tunnel ahead immediately split left and right.
"Which way, Captain?" Rubble said.
T.Rex cocked his head and pondered a moment, trying to mentally picture which way the tunnels were oriented. Though he desperately wanted to avoid exiting in the heart of campus, anything was better than the Machine Shop at this point.
He tried to sound confident and decisive. "Left."
Cowboy led the group, illuminating the tunnels with his flashlight. Directly behind in single file were T.Rex, Kamikaze, Angel Hair, Rubble, Peace, and finally Beard. They walked the corridors in silence, scanning the walls for any clues about their location, or for ways to escape the winding tunnels.
The first thing they encountered was a crawlspace on the right, near the floor. Like the Machine Shop door, only Angel Hair and T.Rex could fit, so they kept moving on. The tunnel turned left at a ninety degree angle, and they had no choice but to follow.
They came across a pair of steel doors, one on each side of the corridor. They were both locked, so they kept going. Another fork. Left. More tunnel, and another locked door. Right. Straight. Left. A four way intersection, straight. Right.
The tunnels were eerily quiet. With the power outage, there was no white noise, just the occasional cough or rustle of equipment as the Fools trekked through the underground. Most of the doors they came across were locked, and too strong to force into. They found plenty of pipes or vents for steam and other utilities, but none for people to travel in.
Straight. Left, left, right. Fork right, straight, fork left.
T.Rex tried to keep up with the twists and turns, but a voice in his head knew he was basically guessing at this point. In the dark, the tunnel sections all looked very similar. He estimated they were probably under Matthews Hall when he felt a tap on the shoulder.
"I think I hear something," Kamikaze whispered.
"Halt," T.Rex hissed, and the group waited nervously.
The faintest tapping could be heard somewhere nearby, having been obscured by the footsteps of the group. It was irregular and did not sound mechanical.
T.Rex pointed toward the sound, and the group advanced slowly, weapons ready. As they rounded a corner, the tapping bled into a thumping sound.
A single door was the only feature of a long section of tunnel ahead. "That has to be it," T.Rex whispered.
This is like something out of a horror movie, Ryan thought. Still, it could conceivably be a person trapped in there that we might help. Probably a zed, though. At any rate, if we get in there we might be able to find something of value. Weapons, an exit, a map, or something.
T.Rex held up seven fingers, three on one hand and four on another. He motioned them apart and looked at the group, and the Fools nodded in recognition. He flashed the three hand and pointed to Beard, Peace, and Cowboy. He flashed the four hand and pointed to himself, and then Kamikaze, Rubble, and Angel Hair. He waved the first group to the far side of the door and motioned for the second group to take up a position opposite.
The Fools stood ready, weapons drawn and ready to strike. "I think it's a zed, but don't attack until we're sure," T.Rex whispered to the Fools. He looked at both squads one last time, waiting for any signs from the Fools. There were none, so he slowly reached his arm out.
Gingerly, he grabbed the door handle. He twisted, expecting it to be locked like every other door they'd encountered. It gave slightly, so T.Rex twisted a bit more and the door flew open violently, hitting him with enough force to knock him backwards.
T.Rex's head hit the ground, and the last thing he remembered seeing was a large, overweight zombie wearing coveralls.
And a yellow hard hat.
Current Word Count: 38,239
Monday, June 30, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Chapter 27 - The Great Escape
June 14th, 2008
1:41am
Machine Shop
A single rifle bullet whipped through the Machine Shop work area in the blink of an eye, impacting the red barrel as intended.
Nothing happened.
No explosion, no fireball, no zed-clearing blast radius of chemical destruction.
Instead, with a distinctive metallic sound, the projectile merely pierced the drum and the contents began to leak out. A clear liquid slowly poured out of the fresh opening, collecting on the floor at the feet of the horde. The nearby zombies took no notice of the liquid and quickly ignored the barrel.
Every zed inside of the machine shop instantly turned towards the sound of the rifle. Snarling, moaning, and lurching, they stumbled for T.Rex.
As the creatures splashed through the puddle, Ryan slumped his shoulders and stared in a shocked state at the mass of undead coming for him. His rifle pointed at the ground as he witnessed his brilliant idea fail spectacularly. What was I thinking? he chided himself. What is this, some sort of video game? First shoot the red barrels and then make fun of the AI?
The other Fools waited nervously from the shadows, hiding between shelves and behind workbenches. They watched the zeds close in on T.Rex, wondering why he hadn't given any sort of signal. Wondering why he stood there muttering to himself, instead of springing into action.
A tidal wave of desperation washed over Ryan. The true scope of their situation began to sink in at the worst moment, and all the pessimism and worry in his mind paralyzed his body. The zeds closed the gap, arms reaching out for flesh and brains.
The zed closest to T.Rex lunged. There was a flash of light and a deafening bang, and the zombie went limp as a single bullet entered just behind its ear and exited the opposite side near the temple. Grey brain matter sprayed through the air inches in front of T.Rex.
It was this bullet, fired by Beard, that snapped T.Rex from his trance as well as signaled the Foolish offensive. The zeds, oriented towards their rifle toting target, were decimated as Kamikaze, Peace, Beard and Cowboy leaped from their hiding places and began to attack.
Hatchets swung, skulls split, and zeds died in an orgy of violence. In the tight confines of the Machine Shop, the confused creatures were no match for the coordinated attack orchestrated by Beard. In a matter of seconds, close to twenty zombies were dispatched, and the sweaty, tired Fools immediately turned to challenge the next wave advancing.
More zeds approached, their wet feet amplifying the sounds of their staggered steps. The Fools formed a defensive wall, protecting their equipment stacked behind them. As the zombies poured into the Machine Shop, they filled more space than the improv group could defend. Slowly, the creatures pressed the Fools backwards into the rear corner of the shop.
Working in sequence, the Fools did all that they could to rotate the front lines to keep from exhausting any one member. Still swinging, they retreated closer and closer to the back of the Machine Shop. They were all panting, gasping from exertion. Each step brought them closer together and Kamikaze took note, timing her attacks so as to not interfere with the others.
Cowboy swung his baseball bat horizontally with full force and crumpled a zed skull like an aluminum can. The track jacket wearing zombie went down and the other zeds ignored it, trampling the limp body as they reached for the Fools.
"ANGEL HAIR!" T.Rex yelled to the door behind them, narrowly dodging an arm grasping for his shirt. "Please tell me you've got something!" Looking back, he saw they had less than a few yards of space left. The sea of zeds in front of them was so thick he could not see through to the back wall, and he was too short to see over.
In response, the door flew open. Rubble ran out, dragging a large wooden chair. "Move!" he yelled, not pausing as he twisted his body. T.Rex and Cowboy dove out of the way, and Rubble roared as he swung the entire chair at the closest cluster of zombies. The chair splintered as it knocked the zeds backward into the crowd.
Angel Hair scooped up as many bags of equipment as he could with his spindly arms and carried them into the room behind the Fools. "Bring everything in here, quick!" he shouted above the din. Peace and Cowboy flanked Rubble, keeping him safe from an immediate counterattack. The rest of the Fools rushed after Angel Hair, carrying the rest of the equipment.
T.Rex's arms were filled with a duffel bag, obscuring his vision. He was surprised when Kamikaze grabbed his shirt collar and kept him from taking another step forward. He dropped the bag and looked around, confused.
He was standing in an office no bigger than a standard dorm room. To his left, a wooden desk missing a chair. To his right, a ransacked cabinet full of papers and folders. Directly ahead was cork board with information, too dim to read in the darkness.
Ryan looked down and saw an opening in the floor where his duffel should have been.
"Everybody inside," Angel Hair said, standing proudly beside the heavy metal manhole-style covering. "It's a maintenance hatch for the Machine Shop guys to do work in the tunnels."
"Beard, you go first and clear out anything that might be down there," T.Rex said cautiously. I hope there's nothing down there, or at least nothing Beard can't handle. We just might make it, he thought to himself.
Angel Hair vanished into the hatch after Beard and called up for the equipment. As Kamikaze and T.Rex fed the bags into the abyss, Rubble, Peace, and Cowboy were being pushed back closer and closer to the door by the zeds.
T.Rex wiped sweat from his forehead. "C'mon!" he yelled to the trio of Fools outside the room. Kamikaze descended the ladder, her conversation with Angel Hair fading quickly as she disappeared.
Cowboy and Peace turned and dashed in. Rubble, now wielding two halves of a broken pool cue, took out one last zed with a sharp jab through the eye socket before joining them inside the room.
"I'll close up," Peace said, confidently. T.Rex took one last look at his friend before following Rubble and Cowboy underground.
Peace removed a lighter from his pocket and clicked it on, admiring the flame for just a moment before heaving it into the Machine Shop work area, now thick with zeds. He slammed the office door just as the zed crowd reached them.
After locking the door, Peace carefully started down the ladder, dragging the cover back in place above him.
Current Word Count: 36,554
1:41am
Machine Shop
A single rifle bullet whipped through the Machine Shop work area in the blink of an eye, impacting the red barrel as intended.
Nothing happened.
No explosion, no fireball, no zed-clearing blast radius of chemical destruction.
Instead, with a distinctive metallic sound, the projectile merely pierced the drum and the contents began to leak out. A clear liquid slowly poured out of the fresh opening, collecting on the floor at the feet of the horde. The nearby zombies took no notice of the liquid and quickly ignored the barrel.
Every zed inside of the machine shop instantly turned towards the sound of the rifle. Snarling, moaning, and lurching, they stumbled for T.Rex.
As the creatures splashed through the puddle, Ryan slumped his shoulders and stared in a shocked state at the mass of undead coming for him. His rifle pointed at the ground as he witnessed his brilliant idea fail spectacularly. What was I thinking? he chided himself. What is this, some sort of video game? First shoot the red barrels and then make fun of the AI?
The other Fools waited nervously from the shadows, hiding between shelves and behind workbenches. They watched the zeds close in on T.Rex, wondering why he hadn't given any sort of signal. Wondering why he stood there muttering to himself, instead of springing into action.
A tidal wave of desperation washed over Ryan. The true scope of their situation began to sink in at the worst moment, and all the pessimism and worry in his mind paralyzed his body. The zeds closed the gap, arms reaching out for flesh and brains.
The zed closest to T.Rex lunged. There was a flash of light and a deafening bang, and the zombie went limp as a single bullet entered just behind its ear and exited the opposite side near the temple. Grey brain matter sprayed through the air inches in front of T.Rex.
It was this bullet, fired by Beard, that snapped T.Rex from his trance as well as signaled the Foolish offensive. The zeds, oriented towards their rifle toting target, were decimated as Kamikaze, Peace, Beard and Cowboy leaped from their hiding places and began to attack.
Hatchets swung, skulls split, and zeds died in an orgy of violence. In the tight confines of the Machine Shop, the confused creatures were no match for the coordinated attack orchestrated by Beard. In a matter of seconds, close to twenty zombies were dispatched, and the sweaty, tired Fools immediately turned to challenge the next wave advancing.
More zeds approached, their wet feet amplifying the sounds of their staggered steps. The Fools formed a defensive wall, protecting their equipment stacked behind them. As the zombies poured into the Machine Shop, they filled more space than the improv group could defend. Slowly, the creatures pressed the Fools backwards into the rear corner of the shop.
Working in sequence, the Fools did all that they could to rotate the front lines to keep from exhausting any one member. Still swinging, they retreated closer and closer to the back of the Machine Shop. They were all panting, gasping from exertion. Each step brought them closer together and Kamikaze took note, timing her attacks so as to not interfere with the others.
Cowboy swung his baseball bat horizontally with full force and crumpled a zed skull like an aluminum can. The track jacket wearing zombie went down and the other zeds ignored it, trampling the limp body as they reached for the Fools.
"ANGEL HAIR!" T.Rex yelled to the door behind them, narrowly dodging an arm grasping for his shirt. "Please tell me you've got something!" Looking back, he saw they had less than a few yards of space left. The sea of zeds in front of them was so thick he could not see through to the back wall, and he was too short to see over.
In response, the door flew open. Rubble ran out, dragging a large wooden chair. "Move!" he yelled, not pausing as he twisted his body. T.Rex and Cowboy dove out of the way, and Rubble roared as he swung the entire chair at the closest cluster of zombies. The chair splintered as it knocked the zeds backward into the crowd.
Angel Hair scooped up as many bags of equipment as he could with his spindly arms and carried them into the room behind the Fools. "Bring everything in here, quick!" he shouted above the din. Peace and Cowboy flanked Rubble, keeping him safe from an immediate counterattack. The rest of the Fools rushed after Angel Hair, carrying the rest of the equipment.
T.Rex's arms were filled with a duffel bag, obscuring his vision. He was surprised when Kamikaze grabbed his shirt collar and kept him from taking another step forward. He dropped the bag and looked around, confused.
He was standing in an office no bigger than a standard dorm room. To his left, a wooden desk missing a chair. To his right, a ransacked cabinet full of papers and folders. Directly ahead was cork board with information, too dim to read in the darkness.
Ryan looked down and saw an opening in the floor where his duffel should have been.
"Everybody inside," Angel Hair said, standing proudly beside the heavy metal manhole-style covering. "It's a maintenance hatch for the Machine Shop guys to do work in the tunnels."
"Beard, you go first and clear out anything that might be down there," T.Rex said cautiously. I hope there's nothing down there, or at least nothing Beard can't handle. We just might make it, he thought to himself.
Angel Hair vanished into the hatch after Beard and called up for the equipment. As Kamikaze and T.Rex fed the bags into the abyss, Rubble, Peace, and Cowboy were being pushed back closer and closer to the door by the zeds.
T.Rex wiped sweat from his forehead. "C'mon!" he yelled to the trio of Fools outside the room. Kamikaze descended the ladder, her conversation with Angel Hair fading quickly as she disappeared.
Cowboy and Peace turned and dashed in. Rubble, now wielding two halves of a broken pool cue, took out one last zed with a sharp jab through the eye socket before joining them inside the room.
"I'll close up," Peace said, confidently. T.Rex took one last look at his friend before following Rubble and Cowboy underground.
Peace removed a lighter from his pocket and clicked it on, admiring the flame for just a moment before heaving it into the Machine Shop work area, now thick with zeds. He slammed the office door just as the zed crowd reached them.
After locking the door, Peace carefully started down the ladder, dragging the cover back in place above him.
Current Word Count: 36,554
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Chapter 26 - Battle Cry
June 14th, 2008
1:26am
Machine Shop
Angel Hair ran his hands over where his hair used to be and stared down the key cabinet. "I guess our two keys should be in here somewhere," he said, confidently.
"Just one key, actually," Ryan corrected. "The keyring you threw out earlier opened the inner door lock. Now we're looking for a padlock key."
"Hrm," Angel Hair pondered aloud. "It wouldn't be any of these funky shaped keys here," he said, pointing to a transparent drawer of specialized plumbing keys. "We can rule out all of these, since they haven't been cut yet," he noted, waving his hands over hooks holding several dozen blank keys.
The moans of the undead resounded in the Machine Shop, mixed with more gunfire and yells. "We don't have time for guesses," T.Rex said in a frustrated tone. He crouched down and wrenched open a drawer at the bottom of the cabinet. It was filled with a wide variety of tools, and T.Rex rummaged around a bit.
Ryan removed an enormous pair of bolt cutters from the drawer and handed them to Angel Hair. "Tell them to cut the chain and get in here now." Angel Hair nodded and scampered back to the door. Finding nothing else of much value, T.Rex slammed the drawer shut and followed him back to the door.
Angel Hair had already passed the bolt cutters through the oval portal at waist height. Together, T.Rex and Angel Hair waited nervously inside the Machine Shop, not wanting to crowd the small ramp with another body. It was up to the Fools on the other side to use the cutter to break the chain and remove the lock so that the door could be drawn up. This was all while holding off the horde of approaching zeds, whose moans and groans were much louder.
Standing with Angel Hair in the Machine Shop, T.Rex noticed they had both left their packs outside on the ramp, leaving them temporarily out of supplies. Angel Hair had his flashlight, the only thing he grabbed before selflessly diving into the Machine Shop to find a key. T.Rex, armed with only a crowbar in the middle of a strange building, clutched his weapon and tried not to think of what would happen if the Fools outside failed.
As they waited, T.Rex regretted destroying the chain. Ideally, once the door was open and the Fools were through, they'd send one of the two of them back out to re-lock everything and keep the zeds out. Chances were good that the zombie horde was too close, though.
Metal scraped against metal as the chain was removed on the other side of the door, "Open! Open! Open!" the rampside Fools yelled in unison with the traditional Foolish repetition. Angel Hair and T.Rex sprung into action and together, they heaved the door up.
Outside was pure chaos.
Three large fires raged nearby, a product of the molotov barrages, and several zeds staggered around still on fire, igniting others. A pile of limp zeds formed a loose 180 degree arc around the ramp, and a pile of spent shells collected at Kamikaze's feet. Brain matter painted the concrete in every direction, and the stench of the carnage was formidable. Zombies lie dead from arrows poking out their heads at various angles, and even as Angel Hair and T.Rex stared outside, Beard continued firing his pistol in methodical fashion, eliminating the biggest threat in order. The closest zeds were within arm's reach of the ramp, with a sea of them just a few feet further.
Peace stepped in first carrying the bolt cutters, the chain and lock, and the rest of his tools. Cowboy came in next, hauling his pack as well as the ones left by T.Rex and Angel Hair. With a twang of bowstring, Rubble fired a final arrow and picked up his own equipment, running back into the Machine Shop to join the others.
"Go!" Beard shouted, his rate of firing increasing. The pistol roared as Beard dropped a Hispanic looking zed and then two brunette female zeds in rapid succession. Kamikaze fired one last round from the rifle at a particularly obese zed near the foot of the ramp before picking up her pack and ducking inside.
Beard twisted at the hip and fired a pair of bullets where Kamikaze was just moments before, keeping two zeds from climbing onto the ramp by killing one outright and knocking the other into the crowd below. Backpedaling, he twisted and fired again, killing a piercing-laden zombie reaching for where his foot was previously.
Abruptly, he turned and dashed into the Machine Shop. A half second behind him Angel Hair and Rubble slammed the door down, sealing away the zed army.
"Fools, fan out for recon and defensive measures. I want weapons checked and reloaded, and get me anything that can either barricade this door or fuck up some zeds!" T.Rex cried out. Beard paused next to him and rested a moment, leaning forward and bracing his hands on his knees.
"You could've kept going out there," T.Rex joked.
Beard stood and adjusted his weapon. A cartridge slipped from the handle and clattered on ground, empty.
A pair of decaying arms reached through the hole in the door and grabbed at the air, prompting both T.Rex and Beard to take a few steps further away, just in case. Soon, a few other arms joined in and formed a tangled mess of limbs grasping for prey from the door. Not long thereafter, the door started to rattle as the zeds crowded the top of the ramp, pushing and pounding on the thin aluminum door.
"If they had any intelligence at all, they'd just raise the unlocked door and come and get us," T.Rex observed.
The brackets keeping the metal door whined as they strained to keep the door in place. "About how long do you figure we have until they break through the hard way?" Beard asked T.Rex.
"Looking at the size and placement of the brackets, I'd say we have no more than 15 minutes," he said, looking around the frame of the door.
Beard grinned. "That's more than enough."
Taking survey of the interior was easier as T.Rex's eyes grew accustomed to what little moonlight shined through windows near the ceiling. The Machine Shop smelled like a giant garage, with faint traces of motor oil and WD-40. Above them was irregular scaffolding, with power strips and dormant shop lights hanging near workstations. The Fools, armed with flashlights, pored over the interior for anything they could use.
Near the wall closest to the door was a series of wooden shelves arranged like aisles at a grocery store, containing boxes of parts, half-assembled motors, rags, scrap metal, toolboxes, tires, PVC pipes, and hundreds of other pieces of miscellaneous maintenance equipment. The wall opposite of the door was a giant peg-board, which held industrial hammers, screwdrivers, augers, drills, hand saws, and dozens of other tools of varying sizes and styles. It also contained the key cabinet discovered earlier, and several large objects obscured by tarps. The wall with the door had a cabinet of clear plastic bins with light bulbs, nuts and bolts, screws, washers, pins and needles, nails, fuses, hinges, and a thousand other small items.
The center of the building was mostly open as a workspace, but it was lined with several large workbenches. The benches supported a variety of equipment like a lathe, a drill press, several die tooling machines, a few circular saws, and other industrial machinery. There was even a computer attached to one of the machines, presumably for computer-aided design work.
Not much light made it to the rear of the building. Shining a flashlight around, T.Rex saw a pair of ATVs tucked away next to some red barrels and wooden crates. More mounds of equipment nearby sat quietly covered by tarp, and stacked nearby was a bunch of spare plywood. In the furthest corner he noticed a bulletin board next to a strange door marked "Caution".
T.Rex began to delegate. "Angel Hair, I'd like you to go check out the door in the back, and see if there's anything useful." He nodded and scampered off.
"Cowboy and Peace, you two move some of these workbenches to try and block up the door." They saluted and started clearing the benches.
"Kamikaze and Rubble, I want you guys to move our packs to the back for when we have to fall back, and look around for anything that might possibly be a good weapon." They also went right to work.
T.Rex stood near the door with Beard. "How bad is the ammo situation?" he asked, lowering his voice.
"Pretty bad, " Beard admitted. "Rubble used up all but a few of his arrows. I emptied two and a half magazines, so I've got one left with seven shots. Kamikaze was pretty selective about her ammo, though, so I think she's still got a decent amount saved for you. Check with her for the final count, but I'd guess she has 50 rounds left."
Cowboy ran up with a sour look on his face. "Bad news, man. The tables are all bolted to the floor. We can't move any of them."
Beard was incredulous. "Really? Why would somebody do that?"
T.Rex's heart sank. He realized that with the electricity still out, the saws and power tools in the shop were giant useless weights. The tables were the only real furniture to barricade the door with, and they couldn't be moved. Worse, there probably wasn't anything in the shop that would make a better weapon than the machetes and crowbars they'd acquired already. His snap decision to head for the Machine Shop was rapidly turning out to be a very bad idea. Unless they could come up with something decisive, he feared it would be their tomb.
Just then, one of the four brackets bracing the door broke. It snapped into several pieces, skittering across the concrete floor. With one less support, the door now shook harder under the combined assault of the zeds outside.
"Beard," T.Rex whispered to his friend, "we're running out of time. I don't know how much longer the door will hold, so I want you to get the group fired up with a Battle Cry, okay?"
Battle Cry was an improv exercise they'd invented about a year and a half ago as a way to boost energy backstage before a show. It was crucial to be enthusiastic at a show, and this was designed to get everybody loud and bold.
"Fools!" Beard cried out as another bracket snapped behind him, "Oval up on me!" Kamikaze, Peace, Cowboy, Rubble, and T.Rex dropped what they were doing and gathered around him. Beard stood in front and took a deep breath, and in his best Gerrard Butler voice gave them his favorite words of courage from 300:
"This is where we hold them!" he yelled to the group at full volume, stomping his foot for emphasis. "This is where we fight!"
"This is where THEY DIE!" He jumped into the circle and clapped his hands. The Fools around him answered the clap, and then together they all broke out into a primal scream, yelling to the circle with clenched fists until their faces were red.
The third bracket gave way and ricocheted off of a cabinet. With less supports, the door buckled much more wildly under the fists of the undead outside. A few arms snaked into the building from the side of the door with no brackets, and the moans grew louder as the remaining bracket squealed under tension.
The Fools turned to face the onslaught, now kept at bay by the tiny piece of metal. They all gripped their weapons and drew up whatever courage and energy they had left.
"Can I get Rubble to give me a hand with something?" Angel Hair yelled from the back of the shop.
Are you kidding me? T.Rex thought. Maybe some kind of generator for power? He knew Rubble had experience working with engines. "Yes," T.Rex yelled back, "but this had better be something awesome!" He nodded to the back and Rubble broke the line to hustle back to the strange door. The Fools shifted to compensate for the gap and waited.
An idea suddenly shot through Ryan's mind like a bolt of lightning. "Fools! Everybody go take cover behind something and wait for my signal to charge, okay?" he said, suddenly.
The Fools looked at each other, confused. Ryan started to jog back to the rear of the Machine Shop. "I mean it!" he yelled. "Take cover!"
T.Rex went back and found his pack with the other equpiment. He drew the rifle from the case and made sure the safety was off, and that it was loaded with one of the few precious remaining bullets. He slung it over one arm and ran over to near the ATVs.
He ripped away the tarp covering several large red barrels he'd spied earlier. He unhooked the bungee cord holding them all down and gingerly laid one barrel on its side. Noting the sloshing contents, he rolled it a few feet away with his hands and aimed it at the door, bracing it with his foot.
As if on cue, the last bracket snapped. The Machine Shop door crashed to the floor with a thunderous boom, and a half dozen zeds flopped in under the pressure of the crowd pressing from behind. They snarled, grasping for the prey they'd chased into the building.
T.Rex shoved the barrel with his foot and sent it rolling across the Machine Shop floor. It careened over the concrete floor and collided with a pair of zeds, knocking them back into the first wave of zombies coming through the door.
In one smooth motion, T.Rex unslung the rifle and brought it against his shoulder. He glanced through the sights past several zed legs until he zeroed in on his target.
Squeezing the trigger, he sent a single bullet flying across the Machine Shop at the round red barrel...
Current Word Count: 35,422
1:26am
Machine Shop
Angel Hair ran his hands over where his hair used to be and stared down the key cabinet. "I guess our two keys should be in here somewhere," he said, confidently.
"Just one key, actually," Ryan corrected. "The keyring you threw out earlier opened the inner door lock. Now we're looking for a padlock key."
"Hrm," Angel Hair pondered aloud. "It wouldn't be any of these funky shaped keys here," he said, pointing to a transparent drawer of specialized plumbing keys. "We can rule out all of these, since they haven't been cut yet," he noted, waving his hands over hooks holding several dozen blank keys.
The moans of the undead resounded in the Machine Shop, mixed with more gunfire and yells. "We don't have time for guesses," T.Rex said in a frustrated tone. He crouched down and wrenched open a drawer at the bottom of the cabinet. It was filled with a wide variety of tools, and T.Rex rummaged around a bit.
Ryan removed an enormous pair of bolt cutters from the drawer and handed them to Angel Hair. "Tell them to cut the chain and get in here now." Angel Hair nodded and scampered back to the door. Finding nothing else of much value, T.Rex slammed the drawer shut and followed him back to the door.
Angel Hair had already passed the bolt cutters through the oval portal at waist height. Together, T.Rex and Angel Hair waited nervously inside the Machine Shop, not wanting to crowd the small ramp with another body. It was up to the Fools on the other side to use the cutter to break the chain and remove the lock so that the door could be drawn up. This was all while holding off the horde of approaching zeds, whose moans and groans were much louder.
Standing with Angel Hair in the Machine Shop, T.Rex noticed they had both left their packs outside on the ramp, leaving them temporarily out of supplies. Angel Hair had his flashlight, the only thing he grabbed before selflessly diving into the Machine Shop to find a key. T.Rex, armed with only a crowbar in the middle of a strange building, clutched his weapon and tried not to think of what would happen if the Fools outside failed.
As they waited, T.Rex regretted destroying the chain. Ideally, once the door was open and the Fools were through, they'd send one of the two of them back out to re-lock everything and keep the zeds out. Chances were good that the zombie horde was too close, though.
Metal scraped against metal as the chain was removed on the other side of the door, "Open! Open! Open!" the rampside Fools yelled in unison with the traditional Foolish repetition. Angel Hair and T.Rex sprung into action and together, they heaved the door up.
Outside was pure chaos.
Three large fires raged nearby, a product of the molotov barrages, and several zeds staggered around still on fire, igniting others. A pile of limp zeds formed a loose 180 degree arc around the ramp, and a pile of spent shells collected at Kamikaze's feet. Brain matter painted the concrete in every direction, and the stench of the carnage was formidable. Zombies lie dead from arrows poking out their heads at various angles, and even as Angel Hair and T.Rex stared outside, Beard continued firing his pistol in methodical fashion, eliminating the biggest threat in order. The closest zeds were within arm's reach of the ramp, with a sea of them just a few feet further.
Peace stepped in first carrying the bolt cutters, the chain and lock, and the rest of his tools. Cowboy came in next, hauling his pack as well as the ones left by T.Rex and Angel Hair. With a twang of bowstring, Rubble fired a final arrow and picked up his own equipment, running back into the Machine Shop to join the others.
"Go!" Beard shouted, his rate of firing increasing. The pistol roared as Beard dropped a Hispanic looking zed and then two brunette female zeds in rapid succession. Kamikaze fired one last round from the rifle at a particularly obese zed near the foot of the ramp before picking up her pack and ducking inside.
Beard twisted at the hip and fired a pair of bullets where Kamikaze was just moments before, keeping two zeds from climbing onto the ramp by killing one outright and knocking the other into the crowd below. Backpedaling, he twisted and fired again, killing a piercing-laden zombie reaching for where his foot was previously.
Abruptly, he turned and dashed into the Machine Shop. A half second behind him Angel Hair and Rubble slammed the door down, sealing away the zed army.
"Fools, fan out for recon and defensive measures. I want weapons checked and reloaded, and get me anything that can either barricade this door or fuck up some zeds!" T.Rex cried out. Beard paused next to him and rested a moment, leaning forward and bracing his hands on his knees.
"You could've kept going out there," T.Rex joked.
Beard stood and adjusted his weapon. A cartridge slipped from the handle and clattered on ground, empty.
A pair of decaying arms reached through the hole in the door and grabbed at the air, prompting both T.Rex and Beard to take a few steps further away, just in case. Soon, a few other arms joined in and formed a tangled mess of limbs grasping for prey from the door. Not long thereafter, the door started to rattle as the zeds crowded the top of the ramp, pushing and pounding on the thin aluminum door.
"If they had any intelligence at all, they'd just raise the unlocked door and come and get us," T.Rex observed.
The brackets keeping the metal door whined as they strained to keep the door in place. "About how long do you figure we have until they break through the hard way?" Beard asked T.Rex.
"Looking at the size and placement of the brackets, I'd say we have no more than 15 minutes," he said, looking around the frame of the door.
Beard grinned. "That's more than enough."
Taking survey of the interior was easier as T.Rex's eyes grew accustomed to what little moonlight shined through windows near the ceiling. The Machine Shop smelled like a giant garage, with faint traces of motor oil and WD-40. Above them was irregular scaffolding, with power strips and dormant shop lights hanging near workstations. The Fools, armed with flashlights, pored over the interior for anything they could use.
Near the wall closest to the door was a series of wooden shelves arranged like aisles at a grocery store, containing boxes of parts, half-assembled motors, rags, scrap metal, toolboxes, tires, PVC pipes, and hundreds of other pieces of miscellaneous maintenance equipment. The wall opposite of the door was a giant peg-board, which held industrial hammers, screwdrivers, augers, drills, hand saws, and dozens of other tools of varying sizes and styles. It also contained the key cabinet discovered earlier, and several large objects obscured by tarps. The wall with the door had a cabinet of clear plastic bins with light bulbs, nuts and bolts, screws, washers, pins and needles, nails, fuses, hinges, and a thousand other small items.
The center of the building was mostly open as a workspace, but it was lined with several large workbenches. The benches supported a variety of equipment like a lathe, a drill press, several die tooling machines, a few circular saws, and other industrial machinery. There was even a computer attached to one of the machines, presumably for computer-aided design work.
Not much light made it to the rear of the building. Shining a flashlight around, T.Rex saw a pair of ATVs tucked away next to some red barrels and wooden crates. More mounds of equipment nearby sat quietly covered by tarp, and stacked nearby was a bunch of spare plywood. In the furthest corner he noticed a bulletin board next to a strange door marked "Caution".
T.Rex began to delegate. "Angel Hair, I'd like you to go check out the door in the back, and see if there's anything useful." He nodded and scampered off.
"Cowboy and Peace, you two move some of these workbenches to try and block up the door." They saluted and started clearing the benches.
"Kamikaze and Rubble, I want you guys to move our packs to the back for when we have to fall back, and look around for anything that might possibly be a good weapon." They also went right to work.
T.Rex stood near the door with Beard. "How bad is the ammo situation?" he asked, lowering his voice.
"Pretty bad, " Beard admitted. "Rubble used up all but a few of his arrows. I emptied two and a half magazines, so I've got one left with seven shots. Kamikaze was pretty selective about her ammo, though, so I think she's still got a decent amount saved for you. Check with her for the final count, but I'd guess she has 50 rounds left."
Cowboy ran up with a sour look on his face. "Bad news, man. The tables are all bolted to the floor. We can't move any of them."
Beard was incredulous. "Really? Why would somebody do that?"
T.Rex's heart sank. He realized that with the electricity still out, the saws and power tools in the shop were giant useless weights. The tables were the only real furniture to barricade the door with, and they couldn't be moved. Worse, there probably wasn't anything in the shop that would make a better weapon than the machetes and crowbars they'd acquired already. His snap decision to head for the Machine Shop was rapidly turning out to be a very bad idea. Unless they could come up with something decisive, he feared it would be their tomb.
Just then, one of the four brackets bracing the door broke. It snapped into several pieces, skittering across the concrete floor. With one less support, the door now shook harder under the combined assault of the zeds outside.
"Beard," T.Rex whispered to his friend, "we're running out of time. I don't know how much longer the door will hold, so I want you to get the group fired up with a Battle Cry, okay?"
Battle Cry was an improv exercise they'd invented about a year and a half ago as a way to boost energy backstage before a show. It was crucial to be enthusiastic at a show, and this was designed to get everybody loud and bold.
"Fools!" Beard cried out as another bracket snapped behind him, "Oval up on me!" Kamikaze, Peace, Cowboy, Rubble, and T.Rex dropped what they were doing and gathered around him. Beard stood in front and took a deep breath, and in his best Gerrard Butler voice gave them his favorite words of courage from 300:
"This is where we hold them!" he yelled to the group at full volume, stomping his foot for emphasis. "This is where we fight!"
"This is where THEY DIE!" He jumped into the circle and clapped his hands. The Fools around him answered the clap, and then together they all broke out into a primal scream, yelling to the circle with clenched fists until their faces were red.
The third bracket gave way and ricocheted off of a cabinet. With less supports, the door buckled much more wildly under the fists of the undead outside. A few arms snaked into the building from the side of the door with no brackets, and the moans grew louder as the remaining bracket squealed under tension.
The Fools turned to face the onslaught, now kept at bay by the tiny piece of metal. They all gripped their weapons and drew up whatever courage and energy they had left.
"Can I get Rubble to give me a hand with something?" Angel Hair yelled from the back of the shop.
Are you kidding me? T.Rex thought. Maybe some kind of generator for power? He knew Rubble had experience working with engines. "Yes," T.Rex yelled back, "but this had better be something awesome!" He nodded to the back and Rubble broke the line to hustle back to the strange door. The Fools shifted to compensate for the gap and waited.
An idea suddenly shot through Ryan's mind like a bolt of lightning. "Fools! Everybody go take cover behind something and wait for my signal to charge, okay?" he said, suddenly.
The Fools looked at each other, confused. Ryan started to jog back to the rear of the Machine Shop. "I mean it!" he yelled. "Take cover!"
T.Rex went back and found his pack with the other equpiment. He drew the rifle from the case and made sure the safety was off, and that it was loaded with one of the few precious remaining bullets. He slung it over one arm and ran over to near the ATVs.
He ripped away the tarp covering several large red barrels he'd spied earlier. He unhooked the bungee cord holding them all down and gingerly laid one barrel on its side. Noting the sloshing contents, he rolled it a few feet away with his hands and aimed it at the door, bracing it with his foot.
As if on cue, the last bracket snapped. The Machine Shop door crashed to the floor with a thunderous boom, and a half dozen zeds flopped in under the pressure of the crowd pressing from behind. They snarled, grasping for the prey they'd chased into the building.
T.Rex shoved the barrel with his foot and sent it rolling across the Machine Shop floor. It careened over the concrete floor and collided with a pair of zeds, knocking them back into the first wave of zombies coming through the door.
In one smooth motion, T.Rex unslung the rifle and brought it against his shoulder. He glanced through the sights past several zed legs until he zeroed in on his target.
Squeezing the trigger, he sent a single bullet flying across the Machine Shop at the round red barrel...
Current Word Count: 35,422
Friday, June 20, 2008
Chapter 25 - Keys to Victory
June 14th, 2008
1:18am
Machine Shop Entrance Ramp
Peace fumbled with the keys, trying desperately to find a match for the dual locks keeping them from the Purdue Machine Shop. T.Rex, Rubble, Kamikaze, Cowboy, and Beard stood guard at the top of the ramp, ready to try and defend the entrance from the approaching horde. An occasional clatter sounded from the door, reminding the Fools of Angel Hair's efforts inside the darkened building to find something to get them inside.
"Go ahead and ready the ranged weapons," Beard called out, a half a second before Peace mentioned them.
This sent T.Rex's mind racing. With the exception of Rubble's bow, the firearms at their disposal would make a significantly larger amount of noise than the screaming or combat of late had. This would of course attract even more zombies to their position.
Moreover, ammo was incredibly scarce. The bow had the least amount of ammunition, then the pistol, then the rifle. Each weapon had a maximum and effective range, depending on which Fool was firing. The pistol had the shortest overall range, then the bow, and then the rifle. In a sense, the firing rate, range, total ammo count, and noise gave each bullet or arrow a "value" that needed to be considered for them to effectively manage their weapons.
Ryan rapidly considered the likely outcomes, very unhappy with the turn their rescue had taken.
Option one: we unload everything we have on these guys in front of us and somehow get into the Machine Shop. Having cut into their numbers, we take out the rest of the zeds with our melee weapons. Then we escape and press on. Later, sometime when we really need a gun, we don't have enough ammo, and we all die.
Option two: we squeeze off a few rounds here but conserve ammo, and barely dent the numbers. We somehow get into the Machine Shop, exhaust ourselves fighting the horde close up and get trapped in the building, and we all die.
Option three: we never make it into the Machine Shop. We pull Angel Hair out and try to fight our way through the crowd. We take out a respectable number of zeds...before we all die.
Ryan's mind screamed at him to save each precious bullet. He couldn't shake the feeling that they would very much need the ammo later at some crucial moment. His heart, however, said rather convincingly that maybe dying later was much better than probably dying now. Even probably dying later was better than probably dying now.
The zeds drew nearer. "Fire when ready! Make every shot count!" T.Rex commanded, drawing his neighbor's hunting rifle from the case. "Go for the closest, obviously, but if you can, hit the bigger ones. If the ammo runs out we want to fight the smaller ones!"
Beard took careful aim, legs spread shoulder width apart. The closest zed to his side of the ramp was about 45 feet away and closing, staggering from around the West side of the building. It was a beefy figure with a ripped polo shirt and chunks of short hair missing. Rubble, facing the opposite side, nocked an arrow and drew back the bowstring with massive arms, searching for his own target.
With a two handed grip and arms pointed straight out, Beard fired the first shot and drilled the frat looking character in the skull. It immediately dropped to the ground, tripping another zombie in the process. Beard grimaced and took aim once more, firing with calculated malice. He dropped a female zed, destroying the enormous sunglasses stuck on its face in the process. He aimed. Fired again. A large black zed absorbed the bullet and slowed, but continued. Beard fired once more with a snarl, and the hulking beast slumped forward.
Meanwhile, Rubble's first arrow leaped into night with a twang of bowstring. The zeds were so close, the arrow flew nearly horizontal. The fletching made it easy to track, and it embedded into the chest of a skinny zed with a solid thump. Cursing, Rubble adjusted his aim and readied a fresh arrow, sending it flying. When it connected with the eye socket, half of the arrow disappeared into the zed's skull.
A jingle of keys behind them joined Peace's triumphant cry. "The keys worked!" he yelled, before lowering his voice slightly. "Sort of."
"What do you mean, 'sort of?'" Cowboy said, readying another molotov.
Peace talked almost too fast to understand. "The keys Angel Hair found worked on one of the locks. It opened the internal lock, the one that braces the door against the frame. There's still another heavy grade padlock keeping the door anchored to the ground, there at the bottom," he said, pointing.
"Can we break it?" Kamikaze asked, studying the obstruction. The aluminum door was anchored to a brace in the ground with a thick chain.
Ryan passed his loaded rifle to a surprised Kamikaze. He trusted her marksmanship, having witnessed firsthand her accuracy visiting her farm the previous summer. "Hold them off! I'm going in with Angel Hair to find something to fix this."
Leaving the rest of the Fools to deal with the horde, T.Rex climbed headfirst into the oval hole in the Machine Shop door. He trusted the group implicitly; he was also glad his size was a help for once, and not a hindrance. As Ryan wriggled through the door he flailed his arms, reaching out for something to grab onto.
There was nothing, and Ryan flopped onto the floor. His eyes struggled to adjust to the dim light of the workshop, and when Angel Hair's flashlight beam crossed over his face it only made things worse. The moans of the undead trickled into the Machine Shop.
"Hey T.Rex," Angel Hair greeted, in his normal laid-back tone. It was as if nothing was amiss.
A series of rapid pistol shots sounded just a few feet away and echoed inside the shop. "Whaddya got for me?" T.Rex asked, hopeful but expecting bad news.
The crack of a rifle sounded, and some muffled Fools cheered. "I need your help moving something heavy," Angel Hair said. "I think there's something behind it that can help us unlock the door." He waved his light towards the rear of the room. "Watch for the tables there," he pointed with the beam, "and there."
Together they hustled to the back of the room. A large box labeled "Warehouse A" blocked a tall blue cabinet. Angel Hair rested the beaming flashlight on a nearby workbench to illuminate the area. "This is surprisingly heavy," Angel Hair warned as he put his shoulder against the box.
Another crack of the rifle sounded and Ryan rushed to join his fellow Fool. Together they heaved, slowly inching the box aside. It scraped across the floor loudly, obscuring for a few moments the sounds of battle just outside.
Box aside, Angel Hair and T.Rex sized up the cabinet. It looked like a gigantic 50's refrigerator, with smooth edges and faded paint. Angel Hair tried the handle and it gave slightly before squeaking.
The doors flew open, exposing the contents to the beam of flashlight. Inside the cabinet hung over two thousand keys of varying shapes, colors, and sizes.
Current Word Count: 33,069
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Chapter 24 - Trapped
June 14th, 2008
1:04am
Horticulture Drive
T.Rex had an uneasy feeling. It was a combination of thoughts collecting in the back of his mind: the narrow escapes at the shed and in the greenhouse, almost losing Beard, twice he'd screwed up and gotten himself into close calls, and on top of that the doubt and fear of Jenny's fate now weighed even more prevalent on his mind. It was hot and sticky out, and he nervously shifted his grip on the crowbar to a new, cool section of metal.
As the group ran into the night, they crossed a strangely empty parking lot. Parking on campus was normally such a valued commodity, especially lots that held A, B, or C spots - like the one beneath their feet. Still, the prevalence of automobiles was still evident around the Fools, and Ryan paused behind a mammoth black SUV near the edge of the lot and gathered the group behind him.
T.Rex was getting used to this pattern. Run, fuck up some zeds, hold, scan, repeat. He gazed across South University Drive for trouble. Moans and growls sounded nearby, but that no longer held much information except to remind them that they were in the thick of zed country. Still, something felt even less right than normal, and the darkness around them obfuscated things. I don't remember that set of buildings having very many bushes in front of them, he thought, staring across the lot at the Food Services buildings. Shitty park job on that bus, too-
A horrifying scream broke out above the Fools, slightly muffled. The Fools, completely caught off guard, screamed back more or less in unison, unsure of what was happening.
"Guys. Guys! GUYS!" Kamikaze yelled over the rest of the Fools, the first to recognize the situation for what it was. "It's a zombie trapped in the car. Let's get moving."
The rest of the group looked around sheepishly. Worse, it dawned on them that the group scream only drew more attention to their position.
Wait. Bus? T.Rex was confused. And now the bushes are different. "Alright, guys, let's move out again," he said without conviction.
Seven Fools jogged across the parking lot, and across South University Drive. As the ABE came into view, so did the massive horde of zeds. A crowd of snarling creatures slowly marched towards the group, mismatched in step but united in feral determination. Together, the creatures formed an enormous mass that spilled over both sides of the Main Service Building nearby.
As soon as this threat was in focus, Ryan stopped dead in his tracks. Rubble and Angel Hair ran into him and nearly knocked him over before T.Rex signaled for the group to hold. Together, they stared at the army of darkness before them.
Ryan quickly considered their options, knowing that each fraction of a second of indecision was costing them ground to the advancing zeds. Behind them--East--was a trail of destruction and a stream of agitated zombies following them. To the South was a lake, separating them from the Wade Power Plant. To the West--directly ahead--was part of a horde of agitated zombies, split by the Service Building. To the North was an even bigger horde of zombies.
"We're pooched," T.Rex muttered under his breath. Beard took the initiative and gathered the Fools into a defensive posture in the grass around them. They anxiously awaited orders from the former Captain.
T.Rex's mind raced. Water is a universally bad idea- we'll tire ourselves out and lose our equipment trying to stay afloat, plus we have no way of knowing how zombies will react. Most likely the zeds would sink to the bottom of the lake but continue after us without slowing, without rest. This pits their greatest strength against our very human tendency to get tired. Heading North makes no sense because we'd have to fight through the largest zed force before making it to the main portion of campus. That's the last thing we need, because main campus is a defensive nightmare, not to mention swarming with zeds. Probably.
An ultimatum was quickly forming in his head. Basically it boils down to two choices. Straight ahead and fight through the zeds...or back where we came from. And fight through zeds.
He wasn't keen on the thought of turning tail and giving up, having pissed off countless zeds just to run back to the apartment and hide. Really, though, the decision was made the moment they'd climbed down from the roof.
T.Rex gritted his teeth and adjusted the grip on his crowbar. Jenny is that direction, and so that's the way we're going. But first, we thin out the crowd a bit.
Ryan knew attacking the group of zeds head on was foolish. With the crowd of zeds coming from the bus, the ones following them, and the other random ones nearby, he estimated they were outnumbered approximately 40 to 1. Their only chance of survival was to funnel them and figure out a way to escape the trap they found themselves in, and to avoid being surrounded.
"Fools," he said to the group with forceful conviction, "we head for the Machine Shop and make our stand. MOVE!"
The order was carried out without denying, like an improv show in full swing. Shifting to an attack/move formation, Beard led the group to the smaller building nearby.
The Purdue Machine Shop was a squat rectangular building located near the South end of campus, nestled amongst the Service Buildings. A distinctive yellow I-beam stuck out of the side of the building, supporting a crane unit that hovered over a cavernous loading dock. Next to the dock was a large garage-style door with two clear oval portholes, guarding an entrance connected to the parking lot by way of a large concrete ramp. Beyond this the only features of the building were a handful of small windows, situated for ventilation high above ground level, and a partially rusted sheet metal roof.
Differences between the two groups was evident right away. The Fools sprinted across the lot and up the ramp leading to the Machine Shop entrance. The zeds nearby continued to stagger forward at the same pace, seemingly unaffected by the burst of energy displayed by their prey.
The Fools gathered in front of the garage door to the Machine Shop. "Peace!" Ryan called out, keeping an eye on the advancing zeds. "Lock check. The rest of you, weapons check."
Peace's reply was swift and discouraging. "Looks bad, sir - dual industrial locks. I might could pick 'em, if I had other tools and an hour."
"Wait," Ryan said "I thought you brought all your stuff. What other tools would you need?"
"Uh, a gun? Dynamite? Some sort of plastic explosives?"
Ryan whirled around and faced Angel Hair, the thinnest Fool. "I'm gonna make you a hole," he said urgently, gesturing towards the clear plastic with his crowbar. "I need you to wriggle in there and get that door open, no matter what. We'll hold 'em off. Got it?"
Angel Hair nodded. Ryan yelled and swung the curved end of the crowbar at the plexiglass repeatedly, chipping away at the edge with furious strokes. When a large enough crack opened, he wedged the crowbar in and braced against the door with his leg. He took a deep breath and wrenched the tool backwards, the muscles in his arm straining as the plastic piece resisted.
"You stupid...sonofbitch piece of plastic!" he grunted. The other Fools lent their hands and together they covered the entire length of the crowbar. With a deafening pop, the plastic separated from the door and shot out, sliding down the ramp and settling at the bottom.
As Angel Hair dove in, Rubble shouted to him "Watch out for zeds in there!" as a warning.
The rest of the Fools turned to face the slowly advancing wave of zombies. "What now?" said Kamikaze.
T.Rex pointed at Cowboy and Beard. "Molotov."
Grinning, the two gingerly removed the large bottle of alcohol from Beard's pack and poured a generous amount into a separate container they'd saved. Rubble produced a strip of cloth saved from a garment they no longer needed and stuffed it into the top of the bottle.
"May I?" Cowboy asked eagerly. Beard merely gestured towards their foes, head bowed slightly. Gripping the bottle, Cowboy cocked his arm back and held it in place. Beard produced a lighter and made sure everybody was back before giving it a light, then tapped Cowboy on the shoulder as he stepped away.
Cowboy took aim and heaved the bottle through the air. Like a magnificent firework, the lit bottle arced through the air before smacking onto the pavement just a few inches in front of the lead zeds. An enormous fireball erupted and spread to several zombies, making an audible sizzle as the necrotic flesh began to burn.
"Huzzah!" six Fools cried in unison, fists raised into the air. "Nice shot!" Kamikaze congratulated, echoing the sentiments of the Fools around them.
By now, more zeds from the North had wrapped around the building and added to the giant crowd of creatures bearing down on the Fools. The fire attack was a sorely needed morale boost, but they all knew the zombies would not be stopped so easily.
Beard poked his head into the hole made in the door. "How's that door coming, Angel Hair?"
A large keyring with a dozen or so keys flew out of the hole and landed at the group's feet. "Try those! I'll keep looking, though!" came Angel Hair's voice, made quieter by the apparent size of the room he was in. Occasionally a beam of light flickered in the darkness as Angel Hair searched the Machine Shop for an answer.
"Peace, do it," T.Rex ordered, but by then Peace was already trying the second key in the locks.
"Do you want us to wade out and start pickin' off stragglers?" Cowboy said, gripping his baseball bat tightly.
"No! Do not engage." T.Rex commanded. "With the number out there, we're liable to get surrounded and tired out way too quickly."
Beard took a few practice swipes at the darkness with his hatchet. "We'll stay on the elevated ramp and hold them as long as we can. We have to buy Angel Hair time with everything we have, because if he can't get this door open, only T.Rex is small enough to fit through that hole."
Current Word Count: 31,819
1:04am
Horticulture Drive
T.Rex had an uneasy feeling. It was a combination of thoughts collecting in the back of his mind: the narrow escapes at the shed and in the greenhouse, almost losing Beard, twice he'd screwed up and gotten himself into close calls, and on top of that the doubt and fear of Jenny's fate now weighed even more prevalent on his mind. It was hot and sticky out, and he nervously shifted his grip on the crowbar to a new, cool section of metal.
As the group ran into the night, they crossed a strangely empty parking lot. Parking on campus was normally such a valued commodity, especially lots that held A, B, or C spots - like the one beneath their feet. Still, the prevalence of automobiles was still evident around the Fools, and Ryan paused behind a mammoth black SUV near the edge of the lot and gathered the group behind him.
T.Rex was getting used to this pattern. Run, fuck up some zeds, hold, scan, repeat. He gazed across South University Drive for trouble. Moans and growls sounded nearby, but that no longer held much information except to remind them that they were in the thick of zed country. Still, something felt even less right than normal, and the darkness around them obfuscated things. I don't remember that set of buildings having very many bushes in front of them, he thought, staring across the lot at the Food Services buildings. Shitty park job on that bus, too-
A horrifying scream broke out above the Fools, slightly muffled. The Fools, completely caught off guard, screamed back more or less in unison, unsure of what was happening.
"Guys. Guys! GUYS!" Kamikaze yelled over the rest of the Fools, the first to recognize the situation for what it was. "It's a zombie trapped in the car. Let's get moving."
The rest of the group looked around sheepishly. Worse, it dawned on them that the group scream only drew more attention to their position.
Wait. Bus? T.Rex was confused. And now the bushes are different. "Alright, guys, let's move out again," he said without conviction.
Seven Fools jogged across the parking lot, and across South University Drive. As the ABE came into view, so did the massive horde of zeds. A crowd of snarling creatures slowly marched towards the group, mismatched in step but united in feral determination. Together, the creatures formed an enormous mass that spilled over both sides of the Main Service Building nearby.
As soon as this threat was in focus, Ryan stopped dead in his tracks. Rubble and Angel Hair ran into him and nearly knocked him over before T.Rex signaled for the group to hold. Together, they stared at the army of darkness before them.
Ryan quickly considered their options, knowing that each fraction of a second of indecision was costing them ground to the advancing zeds. Behind them--East--was a trail of destruction and a stream of agitated zombies following them. To the South was a lake, separating them from the Wade Power Plant. To the West--directly ahead--was part of a horde of agitated zombies, split by the Service Building. To the North was an even bigger horde of zombies.
"We're pooched," T.Rex muttered under his breath. Beard took the initiative and gathered the Fools into a defensive posture in the grass around them. They anxiously awaited orders from the former Captain.
T.Rex's mind raced. Water is a universally bad idea- we'll tire ourselves out and lose our equipment trying to stay afloat, plus we have no way of knowing how zombies will react. Most likely the zeds would sink to the bottom of the lake but continue after us without slowing, without rest. This pits their greatest strength against our very human tendency to get tired. Heading North makes no sense because we'd have to fight through the largest zed force before making it to the main portion of campus. That's the last thing we need, because main campus is a defensive nightmare, not to mention swarming with zeds. Probably.
An ultimatum was quickly forming in his head. Basically it boils down to two choices. Straight ahead and fight through the zeds...or back where we came from. And fight through zeds.
He wasn't keen on the thought of turning tail and giving up, having pissed off countless zeds just to run back to the apartment and hide. Really, though, the decision was made the moment they'd climbed down from the roof.
T.Rex gritted his teeth and adjusted the grip on his crowbar. Jenny is that direction, and so that's the way we're going. But first, we thin out the crowd a bit.
Ryan knew attacking the group of zeds head on was foolish. With the crowd of zeds coming from the bus, the ones following them, and the other random ones nearby, he estimated they were outnumbered approximately 40 to 1. Their only chance of survival was to funnel them and figure out a way to escape the trap they found themselves in, and to avoid being surrounded.
"Fools," he said to the group with forceful conviction, "we head for the Machine Shop and make our stand. MOVE!"
The order was carried out without denying, like an improv show in full swing. Shifting to an attack/move formation, Beard led the group to the smaller building nearby.
The Purdue Machine Shop was a squat rectangular building located near the South end of campus, nestled amongst the Service Buildings. A distinctive yellow I-beam stuck out of the side of the building, supporting a crane unit that hovered over a cavernous loading dock. Next to the dock was a large garage-style door with two clear oval portholes, guarding an entrance connected to the parking lot by way of a large concrete ramp. Beyond this the only features of the building were a handful of small windows, situated for ventilation high above ground level, and a partially rusted sheet metal roof.
Differences between the two groups was evident right away. The Fools sprinted across the lot and up the ramp leading to the Machine Shop entrance. The zeds nearby continued to stagger forward at the same pace, seemingly unaffected by the burst of energy displayed by their prey.
The Fools gathered in front of the garage door to the Machine Shop. "Peace!" Ryan called out, keeping an eye on the advancing zeds. "Lock check. The rest of you, weapons check."
Peace's reply was swift and discouraging. "Looks bad, sir - dual industrial locks. I might could pick 'em, if I had other tools and an hour."
"Wait," Ryan said "I thought you brought all your stuff. What other tools would you need?"
"Uh, a gun? Dynamite? Some sort of plastic explosives?"
Ryan whirled around and faced Angel Hair, the thinnest Fool. "I'm gonna make you a hole," he said urgently, gesturing towards the clear plastic with his crowbar. "I need you to wriggle in there and get that door open, no matter what. We'll hold 'em off. Got it?"
Angel Hair nodded. Ryan yelled and swung the curved end of the crowbar at the plexiglass repeatedly, chipping away at the edge with furious strokes. When a large enough crack opened, he wedged the crowbar in and braced against the door with his leg. He took a deep breath and wrenched the tool backwards, the muscles in his arm straining as the plastic piece resisted.
"You stupid...sonofbitch piece of plastic!" he grunted. The other Fools lent their hands and together they covered the entire length of the crowbar. With a deafening pop, the plastic separated from the door and shot out, sliding down the ramp and settling at the bottom.
As Angel Hair dove in, Rubble shouted to him "Watch out for zeds in there!" as a warning.
The rest of the Fools turned to face the slowly advancing wave of zombies. "What now?" said Kamikaze.
T.Rex pointed at Cowboy and Beard. "Molotov."
Grinning, the two gingerly removed the large bottle of alcohol from Beard's pack and poured a generous amount into a separate container they'd saved. Rubble produced a strip of cloth saved from a garment they no longer needed and stuffed it into the top of the bottle.
"May I?" Cowboy asked eagerly. Beard merely gestured towards their foes, head bowed slightly. Gripping the bottle, Cowboy cocked his arm back and held it in place. Beard produced a lighter and made sure everybody was back before giving it a light, then tapped Cowboy on the shoulder as he stepped away.
Cowboy took aim and heaved the bottle through the air. Like a magnificent firework, the lit bottle arced through the air before smacking onto the pavement just a few inches in front of the lead zeds. An enormous fireball erupted and spread to several zombies, making an audible sizzle as the necrotic flesh began to burn.
"Huzzah!" six Fools cried in unison, fists raised into the air. "Nice shot!" Kamikaze congratulated, echoing the sentiments of the Fools around them.
By now, more zeds from the North had wrapped around the building and added to the giant crowd of creatures bearing down on the Fools. The fire attack was a sorely needed morale boost, but they all knew the zombies would not be stopped so easily.
Beard poked his head into the hole made in the door. "How's that door coming, Angel Hair?"
A large keyring with a dozen or so keys flew out of the hole and landed at the group's feet. "Try those! I'll keep looking, though!" came Angel Hair's voice, made quieter by the apparent size of the room he was in. Occasionally a beam of light flickered in the darkness as Angel Hair searched the Machine Shop for an answer.
"Peace, do it," T.Rex ordered, but by then Peace was already trying the second key in the locks.
"Do you want us to wade out and start pickin' off stragglers?" Cowboy said, gripping his baseball bat tightly.
"No! Do not engage." T.Rex commanded. "With the number out there, we're liable to get surrounded and tired out way too quickly."
Beard took a few practice swipes at the darkness with his hatchet. "We'll stay on the elevated ramp and hold them as long as we can. We have to buy Angel Hair time with everything we have, because if he can't get this door open, only T.Rex is small enough to fit through that hole."
Current Word Count: 31,819
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Chapter 23 - Little Shop of Horrors
June 14th, 2008
12:33am
Marsteller Street
Beard was missing.
Everybody looked around in nervous disbelief. Beard was considered to be one of the strongest and most capable combatants amongst them, not to mention his formidable survivalist skills. Nobody dared to imagine losing his talents. Fighting back panic, Ryan treated the situation calmly, like a misplaced set of keys. "Where was the last place anybody saw him?" he asked, nervously.
There were several shrugs and nervous glances. "He was right behind me as we ran through the apartment complex," Angel Hair offered.
As if on cue, a muffled grunt marked the return of Beard to the group. He stumbled backwards from around the corner of the apartment, his hatchet lined with gore. "We, uh, need to get going right now," he said nervously.
"Fools!" Ryan commanded "Form up on me, and let's get moving."
With a quick glance around the corner, T.Rex led the Fools between another pair of apartments and across the street. A pair of zeds noticed from the corner of Marsteller and Harrison. With a snarl, they staggered after the group.
Ryan jogged over to the greenhouse facilities behind the Horticulture Building. Ducking between two of the first units, he crouched and signaled for the group to hold. He noted in his head each Fool as they rounded the corner, now paranoid of losing one of his friends.
Five, aaaaand six, he counted as Beard joined them. "Alright, our next objective is Discovery Park. Everybody good?" He noticed his own breath was short as the Fools nodded affirmative.
T.Rex signaled once more, and they stood in unison. Zig-zagging through the greenhouses, they noticed a significant amount of broken glass. This was but a small sample of the destruction around campus. Without power, each greenhouse was a darkened maze of vines and foliage. The dim moonlight cast odd shadows and made the benign flowers look menacing.
The group reached a dead end in the heart of the greenhouse block. Must've gotten turned around in the darkness, Ryan scolded himself. Pausing for a moment, he surveyed the area through the clear buildings around him. He could see a few zeds about 30 feet away struggling to reach them, shuffling in place against a pane of glass. I hope they get confused seeing us, but not really able to reach us, he thought, grinning.
The furthest zombie on the right pounded on the glass in primal frustration. The other two joined in, and a crack appeared at the corner. It quickly spread into a crystal spiderweb before the entire pane shattered, sprinkling the zombies with razor sharp fragments. Free of restriction, they continued to march towards the Fools coated in glass.
Ryan's smile quickly faded. Fuck. Well, two can play at that game.
There was a moment of hesitation. Ryan always strove to set a good example, and wanton property destruction wasn't really a great way to do that. Still, they were boxed in with no place to go. He flicked his wrist and shattered the closest pane of glass with his crowbar. "Oh look," he said in mock surprise. "An exit."
Taking care to avoid the glass shards, they squeezed into the greenhouse single file. "I can barely see through this jungle!" said Kamikaze.
Beard was stoic. "Stay sharp, people."
"Ack!" Cowboy cried out. "My pack is caught!" As he struggled, the sounds of rustling leaves mixed with the wind rushing through the broken glass. The two nearest Fools tried to help untangle him.
Angel Hair's nimble fingers went to work. "Quit struggling for a second, Cowboy. Your strap is caught on a thorny vine. Can somebody grab a flashlight?"
"Got it," Kamikaze replied.
There was silence as the group waited to clear the snag. An eerie blanket of tranquility drifted into the greenhouse. After a moment, it was broken by an odd, faint noise.
Scritch.
Scritch scritch.
"Uh, hurry up with that strap," Peace said. "I've got a bad feeling about this."
Scritch. Scritch.
A small zombie emerged from beneath a table of potted plants, a victim of previous attacks. Both of its legs were broken, so it crawled with determination It gargled menacingly, attempting to moan with damaged vocal cords. It was only after it had latched onto Cowboy's shin that the group determined the cause of the strange noises.
"Get it off me, man!" Cowboy yelled, arms flailing. The dark, close confines of the greenhouse made it difficult to see or even move. "It's got my leg!"
Kamikaze's response was both swift and decisive. "Hold still!" she said through clenched teeth, trying to find the zed at their feet. A bright beam of light appeared from the flashlight in her left hand. A solid thunk removed the zed's hand at the wrist, courtesy of the machete in her right. Pushing Cowboy away from the danger, she raised a her boot into the air and gave the zombie's skull one solid stomp. Cowboy shook his leg violently until the dead hand flew off.
Nobody moved, including the zed. "Is...is it dead?" Cowboy asked, nervously.
Kamikaze gave the zed a quick once over with her flashlight. "Looks like it. Get that strap fixed and let's get moving!"
"Make sure you kill the flashlight soon - it's probably attracting more attention," Angel Hair wisely pointed out. Kamikaze checked Cowboy's leg for damage. There was none, so she turned off the light.
With another flick of the wrist, Ryan "found" another exit on the other side of the greenhouse and led the group out into the night. In front of them, less than 400 feet away, was the Agricultural and Biological Engineering Building. On Service Drive, located between that building and the Fools, was an overturned bus.
---
The group had no way of knowing that several days prior, that charter bus filled to capacity with Purdue students had attempted to return to campus. While on a field trip to a pricey research facility, a series of strange and confusing messages had assaulted the researcher's mobile devices. Cutting short the trip meant risking a sizeable grant, so by the time scientists finally decided to return tensions ran high as they drove through the night.
Nearly home, the bus driver narrowly avoided flattening a rogue figure in the middle of Service Drive that night. He had slammed on the brakes and swerved, but in doing so lost control of the bus and crashed it into a railing. The bus groaned as it leaned onto the railing, before finally turning on its side as the passengers screamed. Miraculously, nobody was seriously injured in the accident at first.
The ragged figure responsible for the bus driver's maneuver was an infected professor. He found his way aboard the capsized vehicle and found a host of panicked and trapped bodies. It was a feeding frenzy. The resulting carnage had drawn creatures from all over campus.
---
Presently, over two hundred zombies heard the sounds of breaking glass, and went to investigate.
Current Word Count: 30,073
12:33am
Marsteller Street
Beard was missing.
Everybody looked around in nervous disbelief. Beard was considered to be one of the strongest and most capable combatants amongst them, not to mention his formidable survivalist skills. Nobody dared to imagine losing his talents. Fighting back panic, Ryan treated the situation calmly, like a misplaced set of keys. "Where was the last place anybody saw him?" he asked, nervously.
There were several shrugs and nervous glances. "He was right behind me as we ran through the apartment complex," Angel Hair offered.
As if on cue, a muffled grunt marked the return of Beard to the group. He stumbled backwards from around the corner of the apartment, his hatchet lined with gore. "We, uh, need to get going right now," he said nervously.
"Fools!" Ryan commanded "Form up on me, and let's get moving."
With a quick glance around the corner, T.Rex led the Fools between another pair of apartments and across the street. A pair of zeds noticed from the corner of Marsteller and Harrison. With a snarl, they staggered after the group.
Ryan jogged over to the greenhouse facilities behind the Horticulture Building. Ducking between two of the first units, he crouched and signaled for the group to hold. He noted in his head each Fool as they rounded the corner, now paranoid of losing one of his friends.
Five, aaaaand six, he counted as Beard joined them. "Alright, our next objective is Discovery Park. Everybody good?" He noticed his own breath was short as the Fools nodded affirmative.
T.Rex signaled once more, and they stood in unison. Zig-zagging through the greenhouses, they noticed a significant amount of broken glass. This was but a small sample of the destruction around campus. Without power, each greenhouse was a darkened maze of vines and foliage. The dim moonlight cast odd shadows and made the benign flowers look menacing.
The group reached a dead end in the heart of the greenhouse block. Must've gotten turned around in the darkness, Ryan scolded himself. Pausing for a moment, he surveyed the area through the clear buildings around him. He could see a few zeds about 30 feet away struggling to reach them, shuffling in place against a pane of glass. I hope they get confused seeing us, but not really able to reach us, he thought, grinning.
The furthest zombie on the right pounded on the glass in primal frustration. The other two joined in, and a crack appeared at the corner. It quickly spread into a crystal spiderweb before the entire pane shattered, sprinkling the zombies with razor sharp fragments. Free of restriction, they continued to march towards the Fools coated in glass.
Ryan's smile quickly faded. Fuck. Well, two can play at that game.
There was a moment of hesitation. Ryan always strove to set a good example, and wanton property destruction wasn't really a great way to do that. Still, they were boxed in with no place to go. He flicked his wrist and shattered the closest pane of glass with his crowbar. "Oh look," he said in mock surprise. "An exit."
Taking care to avoid the glass shards, they squeezed into the greenhouse single file. "I can barely see through this jungle!" said Kamikaze.
Beard was stoic. "Stay sharp, people."
"Ack!" Cowboy cried out. "My pack is caught!" As he struggled, the sounds of rustling leaves mixed with the wind rushing through the broken glass. The two nearest Fools tried to help untangle him.
Angel Hair's nimble fingers went to work. "Quit struggling for a second, Cowboy. Your strap is caught on a thorny vine. Can somebody grab a flashlight?"
"Got it," Kamikaze replied.
There was silence as the group waited to clear the snag. An eerie blanket of tranquility drifted into the greenhouse. After a moment, it was broken by an odd, faint noise.
Scritch.
Scritch scritch.
"Uh, hurry up with that strap," Peace said. "I've got a bad feeling about this."
Scritch. Scritch.
A small zombie emerged from beneath a table of potted plants, a victim of previous attacks. Both of its legs were broken, so it crawled with determination It gargled menacingly, attempting to moan with damaged vocal cords. It was only after it had latched onto Cowboy's shin that the group determined the cause of the strange noises.
"Get it off me, man!" Cowboy yelled, arms flailing. The dark, close confines of the greenhouse made it difficult to see or even move. "It's got my leg!"
Kamikaze's response was both swift and decisive. "Hold still!" she said through clenched teeth, trying to find the zed at their feet. A bright beam of light appeared from the flashlight in her left hand. A solid thunk removed the zed's hand at the wrist, courtesy of the machete in her right. Pushing Cowboy away from the danger, she raised a her boot into the air and gave the zombie's skull one solid stomp. Cowboy shook his leg violently until the dead hand flew off.
Nobody moved, including the zed. "Is...is it dead?" Cowboy asked, nervously.
Kamikaze gave the zed a quick once over with her flashlight. "Looks like it. Get that strap fixed and let's get moving!"
"Make sure you kill the flashlight soon - it's probably attracting more attention," Angel Hair wisely pointed out. Kamikaze checked Cowboy's leg for damage. There was none, so she turned off the light.
With another flick of the wrist, Ryan "found" another exit on the other side of the greenhouse and led the group out into the night. In front of them, less than 400 feet away, was the Agricultural and Biological Engineering Building. On Service Drive, located between that building and the Fools, was an overturned bus.
---
The group had no way of knowing that several days prior, that charter bus filled to capacity with Purdue students had attempted to return to campus. While on a field trip to a pricey research facility, a series of strange and confusing messages had assaulted the researcher's mobile devices. Cutting short the trip meant risking a sizeable grant, so by the time scientists finally decided to return tensions ran high as they drove through the night.
Nearly home, the bus driver narrowly avoided flattening a rogue figure in the middle of Service Drive that night. He had slammed on the brakes and swerved, but in doing so lost control of the bus and crashed it into a railing. The bus groaned as it leaned onto the railing, before finally turning on its side as the passengers screamed. Miraculously, nobody was seriously injured in the accident at first.
The ragged figure responsible for the bus driver's maneuver was an infected professor. He found his way aboard the capsized vehicle and found a host of panicked and trapped bodies. It was a feeding frenzy. The resulting carnage had drawn creatures from all over campus.
---
Presently, over two hundred zombies heard the sounds of breaking glass, and went to investigate.
Current Word Count: 30,073
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Chapter 22 - Straggler
June 14th, 2008
12:16am
Rear Apartment Alley
The night air was warm and wildlife could faintly be heard in the distance. The dominant noise, however, was the irregular moans and shuffles of zombies, close by. Accompanying such sounds was a horrible stink which hung on the humid breezes.
Standing in the dark alley, the Fools stared expectantly at their leader. He took one deep breath and began speaking in soft voice.
"Everybody pay attention. We're gonna take this one step at a time, and work as a team. Our first landmark is the greenhouses. That's two full blocks directly west of here, running parallel to Harrison Street. We'll stay off Harrison for now, cutting through backyards and parking lots. You guys know I've lived here for two years, and I know the entire area really well, so stick close to me.
"I need you all to be my eyes and ears. I'm gonna concentrate on navigating and trying to avoid what I can, but I can't watch all around. Don't yell. Just tell me what you see, and work together. If I hold up my fist, that's me telling you all to hold. For now, melee weapons unless the shit hits the fan. I'm gonna try to keep a brisk walking pace, so we don't tire out or make too much noise. Don't let yourself get behind - just tell me to slow up, okay?"
The group nodded. "Good," he said. "Now follow me."
T.Rex walked a half dozen steps along the backside of the apartment, staring intently at a row of shrubs that lined a wooden fence. The foliage looked uniform in the darkness. He paused a moment before shoving one aside, revealing a large gap in the lower portion of the fence. Ducking, he scooted through and glanced around the clearing on the other side, waiting for Peace to follow. Then Cowboy. Then Kamikaze, Angel Hair, Rubble, and finally Beard.
Ryan hoped by keeping the group focused on a single goal at a time, they would avoid worrying about the larger picture. They huddled against the aluminum siding of the apartment complex directly behind their former fortress and waited as T.Rex stared down South Grant Street.
Nobody moved as he stood, immobile. Skirting through the bushes was one thing, but they were about to poke a hornet's nest. He now could see down the entire block and saw a number of shadowy figures, some just yards away. Sprinting was sure to draw their attention, but they had to cross somehow, and dragging it out surely wouldn't help either. Looking across, there were two large buildings straddling a largely empty gravel lot. There was a rustle in the bushes nearby, and he started to get nervous.
He contemplated running directly through the lot, or perhaps trying to hug the walls of the complex. The left one has more shadows, which could hold more zeds, he debated. And the cars don't look moved at all, so they're not likely to hold any trapped people. The right building is bigger, though, so it probably has more people. There was more rustling, and Ryan began to perspire. Maybe it would be better if we moved north a bit, he argued to himself. There may be a better place to cross, even though we'd be moving closer to campus. No, better to stick to the plan and-
"T.Rex!" Kamikaze hissed. Ryan snapped out his mental debate and realized the group was waiting on him. "On three!" he impulsively whispered to the group.
"One. Two. Three!" He sprinted a few steps excitedly before calming down long enough to slow his pace. The group followed in a staggered line, clutching their weapons tightly and constantly turning their heads in all directions. T.Rex stepped off the sidewalk and onto the pavement, nearly stumbling over a sewer grate in a nervous concentration. Staring directly across, he aimed for a spot in the gravel lot close to the right building and refused to think about the number of creatures that were undoubtedly stalking them now. They were committed.
Ryan reached the other side, and stopped at the bumper of a blue pickup truck. He squatted near the right rear tire and peeked around, holding his fist above his head. The rest of the Fools were no more than a few steps behind and squatted in a line against the car to his left.
T.Rex's pulse was racing, and they hadn't even engaged a single foe yet. They haven't even gone more than a few hundred feet. Gravel crunched as three zombies shuffled towards them from the other side of the truck, with no doubt in anyone's mind that more were closing in. There was no time to carefully debate which exact direction they would run to anymore, as precious seconds drifted away.
This is war, T.Rex told himself. We have to get going, because just sitting here is gonna get us all killed as every zed in the county converges on us. "Let's move!" he whispered back as he stood and rounded the fender of the truck.
He nearly ran straight into a zombie. An overweight figure, with wild eyes and blood dripping from its mouth. As Ryan's head turned from giving the command to follow, he saw the creature out of the corner of his eye. He cried out in surprise, and started swing his crowbar wildly. The outstretched arms of the zombie were batted away by the panicked movement.
Peace, who had seen the entire exchange happen from a few feet away, was on the move. He grabbed Ryan's upper forearm with his left hand and held it down, to stop the frantic swinging crowbar. With his right, Peace swung his hatchet in a horizontal sweep and buried it just behind the left ear of Ryan's attacker.
The zombie groaned, and slumped to the ground. Ryan looked at the fallen body, and then Peace. Then back to the zombie, then back to Peace. "Thanks," Ryan sputtered. "Thank you. I didn't...thanks. I just..."
Peace removed the hatchet and pointed west. "Welcome. Let's go."
T.Rex looked back and saw the others had taken down two other zombies, one male and one petite girl. Cowboy's bat was smeared in blood, and Angel Hair's sharpened pool cue had a black ooze on the end. Everybody was panting. He hadn't even noticed the others were fighting in the confusion of his own attack, and hoped nobody had seen his embarrassing exchange. "Keep moving!" he whispered, as two more figures stumbled around the corner of the nearest house.
They took off at a slight jog, moving across the open parking lot and weaving around a red sedan. Beard, covering their rear, confronted a zed that was closing in on the group. It lunged for him, and he kicked squarely in the sternum, knocking it backward. He increased his speed to catch up with the group.
Pausing near a small garden shed, The Fools collected at the far end of the parking lot. T.Rex looked around, trying quickly to find the best place to cross. His hands were shaking, and sweat began to bead on his forehead.
Just then, the doors of the shed burst open, startling the Fools as two zombies shuffled out. Inside, a freshly mutilated corpse laid on a sack of fertilizer, gripping a shovel. Its torso and skull were torn open, exposing organs. Blood was splattered all over the white walls. The zombies, still chewing, reached for the Fools nearby.
Rubble stood and yelled, swinging the thicker end of his pool cue with full force at the closest zed. There was a wet thwack as the pole connected with the skull, and the zed crumpled against the door. He paused, then quickly spun the cue vertically and brought the base down onto the second one, a glancing blow that nonetheless sent it to the ground.
The entire group stared in awe as Rubble nodded at his handiwork, then turned around. He shrugged, and Ryan called once more to move out.
As the parking lot ended, Sheetz Street came into view, as did more zombies. A small group of zeds noticed, moaning as they started towards the Fools. "Shit!" Ryan called out, and increased his pace. T.Rex led the group towards an apartment complex on the other side of the street that had open air staircases.
The zombies stumbled after them, blindly following the Fools through the gap in the apartment architecture. This achieved Ryan's intended effect of funneling the zeds together behind them, slowing the attack by taking advantage of their simple minds. With an extra burst of speed, the Fools ran away and paused behind yet another building.
"Everybody okay?" T.Rex whispered back, slightly out of breath. All five nodded back, and he snuck forward to peer around the corner of the building in front of them. "I can see the greenhouses, guys!" he whispered back, excitedly.
Wait, he thought. All five? Rubble and Angel Hair, one and two. Kamikaze and Cowboy, three and four. Peace and...
"Where the hell is Beard?" he whispered back to the group.
Current Word Count: 28,903
12:16am
Rear Apartment Alley
The night air was warm and wildlife could faintly be heard in the distance. The dominant noise, however, was the irregular moans and shuffles of zombies, close by. Accompanying such sounds was a horrible stink which hung on the humid breezes.
Standing in the dark alley, the Fools stared expectantly at their leader. He took one deep breath and began speaking in soft voice.
"Everybody pay attention. We're gonna take this one step at a time, and work as a team. Our first landmark is the greenhouses. That's two full blocks directly west of here, running parallel to Harrison Street. We'll stay off Harrison for now, cutting through backyards and parking lots. You guys know I've lived here for two years, and I know the entire area really well, so stick close to me.
"I need you all to be my eyes and ears. I'm gonna concentrate on navigating and trying to avoid what I can, but I can't watch all around. Don't yell. Just tell me what you see, and work together. If I hold up my fist, that's me telling you all to hold. For now, melee weapons unless the shit hits the fan. I'm gonna try to keep a brisk walking pace, so we don't tire out or make too much noise. Don't let yourself get behind - just tell me to slow up, okay?"
The group nodded. "Good," he said. "Now follow me."
T.Rex walked a half dozen steps along the backside of the apartment, staring intently at a row of shrubs that lined a wooden fence. The foliage looked uniform in the darkness. He paused a moment before shoving one aside, revealing a large gap in the lower portion of the fence. Ducking, he scooted through and glanced around the clearing on the other side, waiting for Peace to follow. Then Cowboy. Then Kamikaze, Angel Hair, Rubble, and finally Beard.
Ryan hoped by keeping the group focused on a single goal at a time, they would avoid worrying about the larger picture. They huddled against the aluminum siding of the apartment complex directly behind their former fortress and waited as T.Rex stared down South Grant Street.
Nobody moved as he stood, immobile. Skirting through the bushes was one thing, but they were about to poke a hornet's nest. He now could see down the entire block and saw a number of shadowy figures, some just yards away. Sprinting was sure to draw their attention, but they had to cross somehow, and dragging it out surely wouldn't help either. Looking across, there were two large buildings straddling a largely empty gravel lot. There was a rustle in the bushes nearby, and he started to get nervous.
He contemplated running directly through the lot, or perhaps trying to hug the walls of the complex. The left one has more shadows, which could hold more zeds, he debated. And the cars don't look moved at all, so they're not likely to hold any trapped people. The right building is bigger, though, so it probably has more people. There was more rustling, and Ryan began to perspire. Maybe it would be better if we moved north a bit, he argued to himself. There may be a better place to cross, even though we'd be moving closer to campus. No, better to stick to the plan and-
"T.Rex!" Kamikaze hissed. Ryan snapped out his mental debate and realized the group was waiting on him. "On three!" he impulsively whispered to the group.
"One. Two. Three!" He sprinted a few steps excitedly before calming down long enough to slow his pace. The group followed in a staggered line, clutching their weapons tightly and constantly turning their heads in all directions. T.Rex stepped off the sidewalk and onto the pavement, nearly stumbling over a sewer grate in a nervous concentration. Staring directly across, he aimed for a spot in the gravel lot close to the right building and refused to think about the number of creatures that were undoubtedly stalking them now. They were committed.
Ryan reached the other side, and stopped at the bumper of a blue pickup truck. He squatted near the right rear tire and peeked around, holding his fist above his head. The rest of the Fools were no more than a few steps behind and squatted in a line against the car to his left.
T.Rex's pulse was racing, and they hadn't even engaged a single foe yet. They haven't even gone more than a few hundred feet. Gravel crunched as three zombies shuffled towards them from the other side of the truck, with no doubt in anyone's mind that more were closing in. There was no time to carefully debate which exact direction they would run to anymore, as precious seconds drifted away.
This is war, T.Rex told himself. We have to get going, because just sitting here is gonna get us all killed as every zed in the county converges on us. "Let's move!" he whispered back as he stood and rounded the fender of the truck.
He nearly ran straight into a zombie. An overweight figure, with wild eyes and blood dripping from its mouth. As Ryan's head turned from giving the command to follow, he saw the creature out of the corner of his eye. He cried out in surprise, and started swing his crowbar wildly. The outstretched arms of the zombie were batted away by the panicked movement.
Peace, who had seen the entire exchange happen from a few feet away, was on the move. He grabbed Ryan's upper forearm with his left hand and held it down, to stop the frantic swinging crowbar. With his right, Peace swung his hatchet in a horizontal sweep and buried it just behind the left ear of Ryan's attacker.
The zombie groaned, and slumped to the ground. Ryan looked at the fallen body, and then Peace. Then back to the zombie, then back to Peace. "Thanks," Ryan sputtered. "Thank you. I didn't...thanks. I just..."
Peace removed the hatchet and pointed west. "Welcome. Let's go."
T.Rex looked back and saw the others had taken down two other zombies, one male and one petite girl. Cowboy's bat was smeared in blood, and Angel Hair's sharpened pool cue had a black ooze on the end. Everybody was panting. He hadn't even noticed the others were fighting in the confusion of his own attack, and hoped nobody had seen his embarrassing exchange. "Keep moving!" he whispered, as two more figures stumbled around the corner of the nearest house.
They took off at a slight jog, moving across the open parking lot and weaving around a red sedan. Beard, covering their rear, confronted a zed that was closing in on the group. It lunged for him, and he kicked squarely in the sternum, knocking it backward. He increased his speed to catch up with the group.
Pausing near a small garden shed, The Fools collected at the far end of the parking lot. T.Rex looked around, trying quickly to find the best place to cross. His hands were shaking, and sweat began to bead on his forehead.
Just then, the doors of the shed burst open, startling the Fools as two zombies shuffled out. Inside, a freshly mutilated corpse laid on a sack of fertilizer, gripping a shovel. Its torso and skull were torn open, exposing organs. Blood was splattered all over the white walls. The zombies, still chewing, reached for the Fools nearby.
Rubble stood and yelled, swinging the thicker end of his pool cue with full force at the closest zed. There was a wet thwack as the pole connected with the skull, and the zed crumpled against the door. He paused, then quickly spun the cue vertically and brought the base down onto the second one, a glancing blow that nonetheless sent it to the ground.
The entire group stared in awe as Rubble nodded at his handiwork, then turned around. He shrugged, and Ryan called once more to move out.
As the parking lot ended, Sheetz Street came into view, as did more zombies. A small group of zeds noticed, moaning as they started towards the Fools. "Shit!" Ryan called out, and increased his pace. T.Rex led the group towards an apartment complex on the other side of the street that had open air staircases.
The zombies stumbled after them, blindly following the Fools through the gap in the apartment architecture. This achieved Ryan's intended effect of funneling the zeds together behind them, slowing the attack by taking advantage of their simple minds. With an extra burst of speed, the Fools ran away and paused behind yet another building.
"Everybody okay?" T.Rex whispered back, slightly out of breath. All five nodded back, and he snuck forward to peer around the corner of the building in front of them. "I can see the greenhouses, guys!" he whispered back, excitedly.
Wait, he thought. All five? Rubble and Angel Hair, one and two. Kamikaze and Cowboy, three and four. Peace and...
"Where the hell is Beard?" he whispered back to the group.
Current Word Count: 28,903
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