The (Next) Most Dangerous Game

Spoiler Alert!

2010-04-14T15:28:00.002-04:00

Hey! It's been a while since I've finished this online novel. If you're reading this, you may have accidentally stumbled onto the story at the end! To jump to the start of the story, try clicking here!

Advance the story by going to "newer post" at the bottom of each entry.

Epilogue 2

2009-04-28T21:28:00.001-04:00

Whether they were students, janitors, tenured professors or postal workers before, now everybody shared the identity of survivor. Every day was a struggle as there were more mouths to feed and borders to watch, and those that didn't pitch in were cast out.

Information slowly leaked in, and survivors under France Córdova's protection started to fill in the details of the wide, zombie-filled world around them. Hiding in the airwaves, between the static, were ham radio reports of cities across the US besieged by armies of undeath. Closer to home, former friends and family members staggered around outside, grey skinned and moaning with hunger.

In the months following the zombie outbreak...

Rubble
As time passed, Brant honed his skills as a craftsman to help create a cache of weapons for the survivors. Isolated and unable to access modern production facilities, he utilizes his own medieval studies as well as the talents of a few surviving engineers to help design, test, and build. These devices are primitive but deadly, and this helps conserve the group's limited supply of bullets. He also acts as the group's historian, recording and preserving the stories of the survivors as more come to Córdova's group.

Angel Hair
Realizing the importance of morale, Steven quickly organized an informal theatre troupe to engage and entertain the survivors. Composed of whatever talent he can find, he runs practices and rehearsals for a variety of low-tech performances, including a cappella concerts, short plays, and of course, improv comedy. This helps break up the monotony of chores and constant patrols. The other Fools were quick to lend a hand, and once a week together they fight to bring laughter and joy to people- just as they did before the zombie outbreak.

Kamikaze
Renee and two other professors were all that was left of Purdue's psychology department. With an abundance of free time and test subjects they went to work trying to answer practical questions about their foe. Studies of zombie reaction speed, memory retention, and even the limits of endurance and perception are carried out in a carefully controlled environment - zombies chained up in a courtyard. In time they hope to answer bigger questions about the very nature of the undead threat.

Cowboy
Nobody worked harder than John trying to move up the command chain under Córdova's regime. Starting out as a shift supervisor for weekend night watch, he excelled and was steadily promoted, gaining responsibility and experience. As the number of survivors grew, he was eventually appointed one of her trusted Lieutenants - the only civilian to ever reach that rank. John also plays forward for the Gold Squad basketball team, currently in last place amongst the survivor squads.

Beard
As a biologist, Eric and the other handful of surviving scientists studied the zombie menace under a microscope, trying to answer a thousand questions as fast as possible- from the cause and spread to a possible cure. As a warrior, Eric practiced and trained for combat daily, so that the zeds that took his best friend would not cause more grief. He was the only member of the Fools that actively sought out combat missions, and his actions at the Battle of Wabash Bridge made him an instant legend amongst the survivors.

Peace
Andrew's remains were eventually recovered and laid to rest by the surviving Fools. Their next improv performance was dedicated to his memory.

T.Rex
Few people were happier than Ryan to have reached some measure of safety, after all that he and his friends had been through. Whatever the cost, he was content knowing they had food, water, and at least one floor of separation from the ground, at least for now. He'd had enough adventure for a while, and was content to spend time with Jenny trying to pretend they had a normal dating life.

Some time after the Fools settled in, search parties found a team of professors and graduate students holed up in one of the propulsion labs a few miles from campus. A good number of them were from the Aeronautics department, and Ryan quickly joined their ranks as a junior engineer. Córdova wasted no time assigning the group work on a top secret project.

A project codenamed "DZ"...

Epilogue 1

2009-04-10T05:29:00.003-04:00

June 15th, 2008
2:53 am
Mathematical Sciences Building - Room 314

T.Rex sat alone in a dark room and toyed with the handcuffs binding his wrists. Sheets of rain hammered the nearby window as he fumed at his current situation.

Just hours ago he'd been peacefully sleeping in some abandoned barn, dreaming of a world free of the living dead and full of the comforts of modern life. He was cruelly snatched from that paradise when the Fools alerted him that they had company just outside. Panic ensued as his mind had shifted to battle mode, planning a quiet and stealthy escape from however many zeds they faced.

It was only when he'd heard voices that it became clear they were not dealing with the usual foe. No, not hordes of undead, but honest to god living human beings. Survivors.

The hope and joy of being rescued vanished as soon as the police forces barged in, lights and guns drawn. The weary group of Fools, caught by surprise, mustered little in way of resistance. They were all summarily arrested, bound, and transported back to campus.

Confusion reigned. The Fools were tired, hurt, scared. The men that found them were armed and well trained, but refused to divulge any information about what was going on or why they were moving back to a populated area full of zeds.

The vans stopped moving, and the men demanded to know who was in charge. As soon as T.Rex stood, they whisked him away without explanation. He had hoped for a quick resolution, and maybe some answers.

Instead they locked him in this room. The former office for some graduate student of the mathematics department was now his prison cell. His only company were dense math textbooks, and he didn't have enough light to read them, so he settled back down in a chair and scowled.

---

As the sun began to rise there was a knock at the door. "Mr. Garwood?" a muffled voice asked.

T.Rex rose to his feet. "Yes?"

There was a jingle of keys, and the door slowly opened. A young man with short blond hair walked in, sporting the unmistakable blue uniform of campus ROTC. A small name tag on his breast identified him as MITCHELL. "Your presence is requested upstairs," he said. "Follow me."

Mitchell led T.Rex down a dark hallway in silence. As they reached the stairs T.Rex tried to pry some info from his military escort. "Hey Mitch, do you know anything about a group of college students brought here late last night?"

"I've been instructed not to divulge any information to pris- er, civilians, until after they've been processed," Mitchell said curtly as they climbed the stairs. After a full flight he added "...and don't call me Mitch."

Four flights of stairs later Mitchell and T.Rex arrived on the top floor of the Mathematics Building. As T.Rex was led down the hall he passed several nondescript offices. He heard faint voices behind some doors, but the only open one appeared empty and gave no clues as to what was going on.

Mitchell stopped abruptly in front of one of the offices. It was no different from the dozens T.Rex had already seen. A placard on the door identified it as room 816, the office of "R. Bañuelos."

The young ROTC cadet stood at attention by the door. "Go on in," he said. "She's waiting."

T.Rex slowly opened the door and stepped into the office. There was a petite woman standing at the far end of the room, facing the window with her hands clasped at the small of her back. She had short, curly, jet black hair and wore a red blazer with a plain black skirt. "Have a seat, Mr. Garwood," the mysterious woman said coldly.

"First, tell me where my friends are." T.Rex said defiantly.

The woman turned slowly. T.Rex's eyes widened as her face came into view. She was an older woman with distinctive wrinkles to her face, wearing tasteful earrings and red lipstick. She looked familiar, and Ryan vaguely remembered a series of news articles he'd read in the school paper...

The woman cleared her throat. "Your companions are fine. I've spent the early part of the morning reviewing their statements." She glanced down at an open folder on her desk. "John is receiving medical treatment, and they're all being held in a safe location. Things you failed to provide, I might add."

"I want to see them." said T.Rex. "Now."

The woman let out a small chuckle. "Perhaps, after we discuss a few things. Now please, have a seat."

T.Rex looked around the room. There were several maps hung on the wall, ranging from Purdue's campus all the way to the entire Midwest. Hundreds of thumbtacks marked different locations, and dozens of handwritten post-it notes stuck nearby. With a sigh, T.Rex sat in front of the desk and glared at the strangely familiar woman.

The woman sat down across from him. "Let me introduce myself, Mr. Garwood. My name is France Córdova and I was supposed to take over as the next President of this university this summer. That was, of course, before all of this happened," she said, nodding her head towards the window.

"Congratulations. What does that have to do with arresting me and my friends?" T.Rex said, holding up his shackled wrists. I knew she looked familiar, he thought.

"I apologize," France said. "We've come across a number of hostile survivors. Paranoia and hunger sets in, and it makes them harder to bring back here. Back to where I am trying to provide safety, shelter, and civilization for these people. Of course some fear authority since many of them resorted to looting and rioting when society started breaking down."

"Can you blame them?" T.Rex asked. "The zombie threat seems to have left many of these people to their own devices."

France Córdova slammed her fists onto the desk. "Unacceptable! Lawlessness and chaos simply bring us closer to these creatures we seek to avoid. No, people must be punished so that they understand we will not sit idly by and let them tear apart the world when people like myself are trying to put it back together. Which brings me to my next point..."

With those words, T.Rex felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. France Córdova pulled a notebook from one of the drawers and flipped through it before finding a particular page.

France cleared her throat. "Breaking and entering private property. Dismantlement and destruction of said private property. Petty theft. Grand theft. Arson. Countless broken locks, doors, windows, and furniture. Do any of these sound familiar, Mister Garwood?"

I can't believe this, T.Rex thought. "Now hold on a minute. There was no rescue, no police, no signs of help. We were acting in self defense, and - wait, arson?"

"You burned down my machine shop, damnit!"

In his mind, T.Rex flashed back to the machine shop battle. There were crowds of zeds, it was dark and chaotic... what was in those barrels?

"The machine shop was an accident, but you can't be serious," T.Rex protested. "Surely you have more important things to take care of, like, oh I don't know, a campus riddled with zombies!?"

France narrowed her eyes. "I know all too well how much there is to do. While you were hiding away in your apartment, I've put together a team of survivors that cleared this building and two others. We've reestablished a primitive power system and jury rigged a communication suite through which I've contacted authorities. I've sent armored convoys to some of our outlying agricultural research facilities to collect food and supplies for the people here." T.Rex's mouth hung open in surprise and awe.

She continued. "So yes, to answer your question, I have plenty of other things to worry about. And if you're looking for sympathy, you may want to try down the hall. When I arrived home two weeks ago and found my husband ripping my daughter's brain matter out, I had to put them both down with a shovel."

Several minutes passed before T.Rex spoke. "So what are you planning on doing with us?"

France Córdova gently wiped her misty eyes. "I have several dangerous jobs perfect for troublemakers such as yourselves. However, Governor Daniels has taken a keen interest in your stories and has offered a deal through which you may be pardoned."

T.Rex cast a wary glance. "What kind of...deal?"

A wide grin broke out on Córdova's face as she leaned back in her chair. "You sign over the rights to you and your friends' stories. You would become part of a PR campaign to boost morale and bring prestige back to the university as we struggle through all of this. This is of course in addition to assigned chores, as well as academic positions based on your majors."

Nodding along thoughtfully, T.Rex tried to digest the implications of her words. Morale campaigns? Research? The zombie menace must be getting pretty bad...

France continued. "More than anything Mr. Garwood, I'm offering you safety. I truly believe that there is strength and stability in a coordinated effort to survive. Where else do you expect to find food and water? Electricity? When darkness falls, do you want to find yourself huddling in some abandoned barn, praying for the creatures to go away?"

T.Rex's mind hung on the word "safety", thinking his girlfriend. He'd risked his life, and lost one of his friends, trying to make sure she was safe. Whatever misgivings he had about signing his life away to this intense woman, they took a backseat to the hope of securing safety for her and the Fools. He considered it his duty.

"Alright, we'll do it," he said with faked conviction.

Just then, an aide walked in. She took one look at T.Rex in handcuffs, dropped a stack of papers on the desk, then addressed France Córdova. "We just got a report relayed in. They've just made contact in Denver."

The smile on France Córdova's face vanished. "Thank you, that will be all," she said to the departing aide as she stood and produced a key from a desk drawer. "Mr. Garwood, I'm afraid I have important matters to attend to." She unlocked the handcuffs from his wrists. "Please report to room 722 for your first project."

As T.Rex left he caught a glimpse of the report the aide had delivered. It was titled "Confirmed Infected Report - updated 06.15.08" and had thousands of names in tiny print.

It appeared things were going to get worse, before they were going to get better.

Word Count: 59,119

Chapter 39 - Beyond the Realms of Death

2009-03-28T02:50:00.003-04:00

June 14th, 2008
9:45 am
Hillenbrand Kitchen

T.Rex almost felt sorry for any zed they came across trying to escape Hillenbrand. Beard, having just shot his childhood friend being ripped apart by zombies, was a man on the edge just looking for a target for his anger.

It was Cowboy T.Rex was worried about. Nursing a head wound and clutching his wrist, the weaponless Fool was trying to keep up with the others but was constantly wincing in pain.

"Just hang in there, buddy," Ryan said quietly, scanning the area for threats. "We're almost out of here."

The trio of Fools backtracked through the kitchen area and back into the lobby area to find a small mob of zeds waiting for them.

T.Rex narrowed his eyes. Not in the mood, he thought, and joined Beard in attacking the shambling creatures. In under a minute they'd taken care of nearly a dozen zombies with no incident. Beard no longer screamed with rage, but once he started moving he didn't stop until every zombie head in sight was separated from its body.

"Great work, Beard," T.Rex said, hesitantly. Beard just stood over the fallen corpses, breathing heavily and staring off into the distance.

Is he gonna be like this the whole time? T.Rex thought. "Move out!" he said, taking the lead as they headed towards the elevators and the bright daylight.

Fresh corpses littered the ground outside, amongst the fallen enemies from before. Arrows and bullet holes were the telltale signs, but fortunately no zeds were waiting for them as they exited the residence hall. T.Rex raced for the stairwell of the parking garage and held the door open, ushering Beard and Cowboy inside. "Second floor!" he whispered, following them up the stairs.

The three Fools burst from the stairs and out into the second level of the parking garage. T.Rex glanced around quickly - some cars at the far end, and a loose collection of bodies where he last saw Rubble, Angel Hair, Kamikaze, and Jenny.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," T.Rex said to nobody, throwing his crowbar to the ground in frustration. Beard jogged forward and knelt by the bodies, poking them with the blunt edge of his hatchet.

"Nobody we know here, Captain," Beard said curtly. "They're all grey and ragged."

Cowboy let out a sigh of relief. "Well thank god for that," he said quietly. Maybe they got overrun and had to leave? Ryan wondered. He was pondering their next move when a quiet voice called to them: "T.Rex?"

There was a pause. "Did anybody else hear that?" T.Rex asked, looking around for the source of the voice. Cowboy shrugged, and Beard stopped checking bodies to listen.

"T.Rex? Is that you guys down there?" said the quiet voice again, from someplace nearby. It had a slightly nasal twinge to it.

A broad grin broke out on T.Rex's face. "Angel Hair? Is that you? Where are you?" he said at a volume he hoped would carry just far enough for the voice to hear, but not attract any zeds to their position.

"We're up on the fourth floor!" said Angel Hair.

T.Rex felt a wave of relief. "Be right up!" he said, and motioned his team back to the stairwell. They climbed two more flights of stairs and joined the rest of the group.

As they exited the stairwell, T.Rex ran to Jenny. Nothing else mattered at the moment- he was simply happy to have reunited with his friends. A wave of exhaustion hit him as he collapsed into her arms.

His happy reunion was interrupted when Kamikaze spoke. "Where the heck is Peace?"

Everybody looked at T.Rex.

He rubbed his eyes and sighed heavily. "Peace didn't make it. There was an accident and..." T.Rex's lip quivered as his voice trailed off, searching for words. "He's dead. Not a zombie, thanks to Beard."

Cowboy bowed his head and Beard balled his fists in anger. Rubble and Angel Hair looked at each other in shock, while Kamikaze just shook her head. Jenny threw her arms around T.Rex and started crying into his shirt. For a few moments nobody spoke as the news set in.

"It was a freak accident," Cowboy said, clearing his throat.

Kamikaze folded her arms. "I don't think you should have gone in there in the first place."

"We were trying to find more food," Cowboy replied.

Rubble stepped between them. "Guys, look, I know they were trying to help but-"

"but WHAT?" Beard said, suddenly. "Look. Peace is dead and it's my fault so let's fucking drop it, okay?"

Angel Hair stared off into the distance. "Nobody blames you," he said softly.

"Well maybe you guys should've waited for T.Rex!" Kamikaze.

Cowboy stepped towards her, only to be blocked by Rubble. "Then maybe YOU can think of a way to feed all of us once our Pop Tarts run out!" Kamikaze lunged at Cowboy, and Rubble held them both at arm's length.

"ENOUGH!" Ryan yelled, startling Jenny and the rest of the group into stunned silence. "I've had enough of this. Zombies converging on our position and we're all yelling at each other? Everybody shut up, gear up, and get ready to move. Beard, you're on point."

T.Rex fumbled through his equipment and found some aspirin. He tossed the bottle to Cowboy, who quickly devoured a pair of tablets. T.Rex packed the rest of his belongings and tried to will away his fatigue.

Jenny knew him all too well. "Sweetie, do you want me to carry some of your stuff?" she offered.

A weak smile crossed T.Rex's face at the concern. "Thanks, honey, but I'm fine. Besides, you have your own backpack to carry! Just stay close to me, stay quiet, and help keep an eye out for zeds."

Despite their bickering, the group was drilled in survival by now and wasted no time. With the group assembled and ready to move, Beard laid out their plan. "We'll escape out the North West stairwell to avoid the bulk of the zeds in the parking garage - the stairs are more than they can handle. From there we backtrack through Purdue West more or less along 26 until we make it to the woods.

"We move fast and light, avoiding combat until we're hidden in the trees. Once we have concealment we can slow to a brisk walk, and hopefully put some distance between us and them. Don't get too cocky, though. Just because they can't see us doesn't mean they can't smell us."

T.Rex nodded and pulled a map from his pack. "It's about 10am, sun will set a little past 9, which gives us approximately 11 hours of travel time. Average human travel speed is about 4 miles per hour, so we can make it about 45 miles with no stops or problems. We're heading West, so that'll put us over the Indiana border and into Illinois. If we stick near 26 for navigation, we'll pass Green Meadows, Pine Village, and eventually hit Hoopleston. Somewhere along that path we'll be looking for a place that's deserted and easy to defend, and scrounge as we go. Move."

On his command the Fools plus Jenny set out, following Beard's lead. As Beard led them to the woods, the bulk of the zed combat was handled by himself and Rubble, although nearly everybody had some work to do as they pushed through dense zed crowds. T.Rex was fiercely protective of Jenny, aggressively attacking any zed that came remotely close to her.

When they passed Purdue West they crossed open field at full sprint, drawing the attention of hundreds of nearby zombies. Seeing Angel Hair struggling to keep up, Rubble slung him over his shoulder and carried him the last third of the way at a full run.

They reached the trees without incident, panting and wheezing, with a trail of destruction in their wake. The group paused only to catch their breath, and after a short while Beard ordered them to keep moving.

Marching in silence, the Fools met sporadic resistance. They stayed hidden in the forest as much as possible, sticking close to the road and seeing signs of destruction all around. Homes burned to the ground, cars wrecked or abandoned in droves. The sun rose and the temperature soared, and even in the thinning forest shade the Fools could not escape the humidity.

As they reached a clearing, Beard held out his fist, signaling for the group to hold. Jenny, who was not familiar with such signals, kept walking until T.Rex grabbed her bookbag and stopped her.

The edge of the forest gave way to a large cornfield. A small sign near the stalks featured an ear of corn saying "We proudly grow Beck's Hybrid corn here!" T.Rex looked around and saw nothing of interest.

"Beard, what gives?" T.Rex whispered. "Why did we stop here?"

"Binoculars," Beard called out. T.Rex and Angel Hair both fished out the only binoculars the group had. T.Rex couldn't see over the stalks, so he stood on a rock until he could see over the corn stalks.

Far in the distance a nondescript brown barn stood alone in the middle of several acres of crops. "I don't see any signs of life anywhere nearby," Angel Hair said. He shared his binoculars with the other Fools who took turns observing. Kamikaze broke off a few ears of corn and inspected them before tossing them to the ground in frustration.

Beard shrugged as a bead of sweat ran down his temple. "Thought it might be a decent place to explore, maybe rest a little bit," he said, looking around at the ragged group.

Once more, all eyes fell on T.Rex. His mind raced as he worried about zeds hiding in the tall golden corn stalks. "Do it," he said, led more by his body's exhaustion than anything else.

They crept through the corn field in a two column formation, stopping every time a breeze rustled the stalks. A single moan kept following them, and the sound seemed to always come from just a few feet away. Ryan constantly turned every direction, paranoid that a pair of grey arms were going to drag him away from Jenny, from his friends. Just past midday, the sun poured almost directly down onto the Fools between the walls of corn.

Between the heat and the tension, T.Rex was sweating profusely and starting to feel a little woozy. "Are we almost out of this?" he said quietly, trying to hide his panic.

"Hang in there little buddy," Rubble said from the rear of the group. The Fools kept marching until at long last they reached a clearing. In front of them loomed a massive wooden barn.

"Seemed so much smaller from back there," T.Rex said to nobody in particular.

Beard sauntered up to the door as the rest of the Fools formed a loose perimeter. "Looks like there's an old lock guarding this one, T.Rex."

The lock made Ryan immediately think of Peace, and it felt like a punch to the gut. He tossed Beard his crowbar. "Break it," he said, resting his hands on his knees, shaking.

Beard popped the latch holding the lock from the door and gently slid it aside. Everybody waited for a few moments, listening. Nothing sounded, so Beard motioned three of the Fools in to check things out.

Kamikaze, Angel Hair, and Rubble ducked into the barn. A minute later they sounded "All clear!" and everybody went inside.

Angel Hair led the Fools up a ladder to the loft as they looked around in disappointment. The barn was almost entirely empty. A few rusty and broken farm tools hung on the wall, and a few piles of straw dotted the floor. Still, the barn had shade and was somewhat cooler than outside.

T.Rex set his pack down on the loft floor and curled up on a small patch of hay. "Just tell the guys...I just need to rest just a little bit," he said to Jenny and let out a large yawn.

Within moments he was fast asleep.

---

"T.Rex!" a quiet voice called out to him. "T.Rex wake up!"

In a sleepy daze T.Rex ignored the voice. It was only when Cowboy placed his good hand on Ryan's shoulder that suddenly everything seemed real. T.Rex sat up and looked around - everything was dark.

A flashlight shined into his face and T.Rex blinked his eyes furiously, swatting at the beam of light. "Ack, what's going on? Why is it so dark?"

"You were out of it all day, man," said Angel Hair, "and now we have a problem."

T.Rex felt a shiver travel up his spine. "What's wrong?"

"We're surrounded."

Word Count: 57,394

Chapter 38 - Exit Strategy

2009-03-11T07:04:00.004-04:00

June 14th, 2008
9:12 am
Hillenbrand Parking Garage

Wearily, T.Rex glanced around the parking garage stairwell exit for threats. The only zeds he saw nearby were laying motionless on the grass, having been dispatched by a combination of efforts by the Fools above him and his own.

Those were once students, not so different than me, he thought momentarily. A complex series of emotions was brewing within - a sense of loss at all destruction and horror around him, worry about how far the threat had spread, pride that he'd rescued girlfriend and kept his friends safe (so far), and even a bit of horror that he'd actually put down a few zeds with his own two hands - and how good it felt.

With classes and homework, hopes and dreams, families and relationships...

T.Rex shook his head violently. No time for this - I've got to find Peace, Beard, and Cowboy.

He eased the door open and jogged back into Hillenbrand the same way he'd entered just a few hours ago. T.Rex stood in the lobby and waited for his eyes to adjust to the reduced amount of light, a task made easier as the sun was beginning to rise over campus. Waiting for him was the familiar stench of death and decay.

The corpses on the floor near the entrance to the dining court were not there when Ryan had first arrived. Some were without heads, others with misshapen lumps where the heads should have been. Also new was all the shattered glass leading to the dining court, and T.Rex assumed that was also courtesy of his friends. He hoped they would be this easy to track elsewhere.

On a hunch, he picked over the glass shards and went right. This led him away from the seating area, now a twisted jumble of overturned chairs and tables (and possible hiding places for zeds), and towards the serving area, full of buffet-style serving counters.

It was eerily quiet. When the dining hall was open, this area was packed (especially just before opening and closing) with impatient students all desperate to grab a tray and devour their food before staggering off. Now, it was dark and stuffy, with an additional stench of rotting food. Bits of food, silverware, and even a few bodies littered the floor.

Ryan felt his stomach lurch when he neared a tray of what appeared to be meatloaf, covered in mold, with a swarm of flies buzzing excitedly around it. Beyond it, however, was the kitchen and a stairwell that led to the basement. Gritting his teeth, he vaulted the counter and landed directly on top of a puddle of grease.

Maintaining his balance was impossible - T.Rex's feet flew out and connected with a stack of pans underneath a nearby table. They clattered to the floor as he landed awkwardly on his side, grunting from the impact and wincing at the sound the pans made.

T.Rex stood nervously. He feared the noise would attract zeds to his position, so he carefully swept his flashlight beam across the kitchen area. Everything around him was a mess, with plates and bowls, knives and utensils scattered about, with food left unprepared seemingly in mid recipe. There was a rustling sound nearby, but no signs of movement in the kitchen.

There were no signs of Cowboy, Peace, and Beard, nor were there any useful foodstuffs or supplies in sight, so Ryan cautiously picked his way past a dormant freight elevator towards the rear of the kitchen.

Sweeping his flashlight beam across the room, T.Rex scanned for signs of danger. He saw plenty of hiding spots for zeds between and under large stainless steel tables, man-sized mixers, and enormous stove units. A trio of corpses were splayed out on the tile, laying in a pool of brown fluid. T.Rex approached them slowly, partially out of caution and partly out of deference to the odor. He shuddered to think what the walk in freezer must smell like, having been unpowered for several days.

The fluid near the zeds reflected the light from his flashlight, leading him to believe it was fresh and the kills were recent. Very carefully he snuck past the bodies until he reached a single door at the rear of the room. He eased it open and was greeted with nothing but darkness and a pair of growls.

His flashlight revealed a pair of zeds stuck at the bottom of a flight of stairs. Both zeds, dressed in stained white chef's clothing, stared at him with intense desire and clawed up into the air at him. T.Rex watched with amusement as they stumbled forward to get him, tripped onto the stairs, fell down, and repeated the process.

Standing at the top of the stairs, Ryan debated descending into the basement. The risk of running into more zeds than he could handle was a real possibility, and he had no idea if this was leading him closer to his friends, or farther away.

There was a loud bang from below, and the zeds at the bottom of the stairs turned away in search of something beyond T.Rex's sight. Here's hoping that's them, T.Rex thought as he descended down the stairs quickly.

Distracted by the noise, the chef zeds fell quickly to the blunt end of T.Rex's crowbar. He paused at the base of the stairs to scan the area. Over a dozen corpses littered the floor, along with some random appendages and limbs. They all looked grotesque, unrecognizable. Debris was scattered around, and T.Rex's flashlight beam froze on a smooth piece of wood underneath a decaying leg.

He poked the leg aside with his crowbar and the top half of a wooden baseball bat rolled towards him, covered in brain matter.

Shit! T.Rex thought. That's gotta be Cowboy. Another noise, louder than before, sounded to his right. Without hesitation he took off towards the sound, hoping they were still alive. He passed through a few doors, jogged down a maintenance corridor and rounded the corner to find himself looking down a hallway of several unmarked doors. A trio of zeds turned and started shuffling towards him, stepping over and onto dozens more bodies.

With little room to maneuver, T.Rex gritted his teeth and planted his feet. They were spaced far enough apart that they could only attack one at at time, so he waited for them to come closer before springing his attack. He waited for them to lunge with their arms outstretched before ducking back, trapping their arms against the wall with his crowbar and bringing the thick end of his flashlight crashing down on their skulls with all of his might. One, two, three they fell in succession.

Surging with adrenaline, T.Rex picked the door he thought sounded the loudest and tried to open it. He was surprised when it gave way, and even more surprised to a trio of renegade Fools inside looked back at him.

"T.Rex!" they shouted in unison, just as he shouted out "guys!" to them.

They were in a storeroom filled with ceiling-high shelving units. The shelves were mostly bare, save a few cardboard boxes and plastic bins. A door at the far end of the room was broken off its hinges but barricaded by a few shelf units. Beard was reloading his pistol and Peace was crouched on the ground, loading cans into a sack held open by Cowboy.

"We have to get out of here, now!" T.Rex said, waving his crowbar to the door. He noticed a trickle of blood dripping down Cowboy's temple. "Wait, are you okay?" T.Rex asked, wondering immediately if he'd been bitten.

Cowboy nodded. "Got into a fight with a pair of zombies, they knocked me against a cabinet. I'm fine."

"Did you guys find anything?" T.Rex asked.

Beard grimaced, like usual. "We ran up and down these halls trying to find supplies - mostly we just got chased and harassed by zeds. Barricaded one door, but I know there's more of them out there." As if on cue, they heard a groan from nearby - reminding them they were still being hunted.

"We don't have time to look around anymore," T.Rex said, impatiently. He clenched his fists in anger, furious that his friends had left the parking garage in the first place. Looking around, hearing faint moans, he decided there were more important things to worry about right now.

Peace stood up and dusted off his hands. "Cowboy's bat broke fighting our way down here, so he'll carry what we did find, and the rest of us can protect him."

"Good," T.Rex nodded. "Beard, you go first, then me, then Cowboy, and Peace brings up the rear. Let's go."

Together the four Fools backtracked to the stairwell. The hallways were mostly clear with only a handful of stragglers that Beard easily dispatched, but not as silently as T.Rex would've liked.

When they finally reached the stairs, the area was flooded with agitated zombies. With one ferocious charge Beard led the entire group straight into the fray, the tired Fools chopping and bashing any heads within reach.

They managed to reach the stairs intact, much to T.Rex's relief. "Go! Up! Move!" he shouted, encouraging the group to escape the mob of zeds forming behind them at the base of the stairs.

As they climbed the stairs, T.Rex looked back to make sure the Cowboy was managing the heavy load of supplies, when the slightest bit of movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention.

A single zed appeared at the top of the stairs and lunged at Beard, driven solely by hunger.

Ryan felt like time slowed as he watched the creature attack his friend. As Beard grappled with the creature they tumbled towards him, but it was too close, too fast. T.Rex was knocked back and fell backwards against Cowboy. The sack of cans Cowboy was carrying spilled open and showered onto Peace who lost his balance and fell.

Peace cried out as he tumbled down the stairs directly into the arms of the waiting zed army. Without hesitation the creatures attacked, biting and clawing, ripping his clothes and flesh.

Beard struggled with his assailant, trying desperately to keep the creature's teeth from breaking his skin. Cowboy whimpered in pain, laying awkwardly on top of his arm, as T.Rex struggled to his feet.

Screaming and cursing, Peace desperately flailed his arms and kicked his legs against the crowd to no avail. Multiple zombies sunk their teeth into his skin, biting through his clothing in a hungered frenzy.

With a mighty roar, Beard grabbed the attacking zed's skull and wrenched it to the side violently. With a wet snap the creature's neck broke and the body went limp. Beard kicked the entire corpse off the stairs and stood, drawing his pistol.

Peace was losing blood, rapidly. He fought on, freeing one hand and punching anything within reach. The zeds ignored his attacks and continued ripping away chunks of his body, gnashing and clawing without pause.

Cowboy gingerly held his wrist as T.Rex helped him to his feet, only to have Beard push them both aside. Without pausing, he aimed and fired his pistol down into the crowd.

A single bullet flew out and impacted directly into Peace's temple, instantly ending his torment.

T.Rex looked down into the crowd of zeds who seemed acutely aware that their formerly struggling meal had gone limp. They unceremoniously dumped the body on the ground and began struggling up the stairs once more.

T.Rex looked over at Cowboy and saw a blank look, a mixture of shock and fear that mirrored his own feelings.

T.Rex looked at Beard. He reholstered his pistol and stared directly at the crowd of zeds with a hellish anger in his eyes, gripping his hatchet with white knuckles.

"Uh...Beard?" Cowboy finally asked, snapping T.Rex from his daze.

Beard just growled. His face twitched, and a single tear rolled down his cheek.

T.Rex put his hand on Beard's shoulder and spoke softly. "Beard, we need to get going. You did what you had to-" he stopped as Beard coldly brushed his hand away.

Beard roared to life without warning, emitting a terrifying yell that overpowered every sound in the immediate area. With surprising speed he rushed down the stairs and began hacking away at everything in sight - zed hands, arms, and skulls, screaming all the while.

"YOU BASTARDS!" Beard yelled as he waded into the fray. "YOU ROTTING UNDEAD BASTARDS! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL EVERY DAMN ONE OF YOU AND WEAR YOUR INTESTINES AS A FESTIVE HAT!" His face was beet red and his eyes went wide, filled with rage. He swung his hatchet with incredible speed and power, almost every swipe killing a new zombie.

One particularly large zombie turned to face him, covered in fresh blood. Beard hooked it in the shoulder blade with his hatchet and pulled it directly to the ground before decapitating it in one brutal strike.

Cowboy and T.Rex yelled from the stairs, trying in vain to get Beard to listen. Dodging hatchet swings, the two of them finally managed to drag him back to the stairs. Barely able to contain Beard's fury, the three of them headed upstairs to get out of Hillenbrand.

Word Count: 55,336

Victory! (Finally!)

2008-12-05T02:50:00.001-05:00

I just posted chapters 35, 36, and 37 which combine for 4,454 words. This brings my total word count to 53,092 words, officially completing my first goal of finishing a 50k novel for NaNoWriMo.

So I failed pretty miserably on the "month" part, having finished [my word count goal] about a year after I started. That said, I still have a few more chapters until I truly finish [the story]. So, loyal readers, thank you for sticking with me this far.

Hang on for the last bit...it's gonna be a wild ride.

Chapter 37 - Return to Sender

2008-12-05T02:35:00.007-05:00

June 14th, 2008
8:44am
Hillenbrand Hall - Room 380

"Take that, motherf-" T.Rex said, catching himself as he looked back at Jenny. She stood at the end of the hallway, staring at the carnage with wide eyes. She shook ever so slightly, hands covering her mouth.

T.Rex stood and wiped the crowbar clean on the zed's shirt. "Jenny?" he said, approaching her cautiously. "Are you okay?"

Jenny remained silent, still staring at the zombie on the floor. T.Rex gently placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her face to look at him. She gasped, and recoiled slightly at his touch.

"Sweetie? We have to keep moving, okay?" he pleaded.

"I...I've never s-seen you be so - you just..." her voice trailed off.

T.Rex grimaced. "Look, I only do it because I have to. They will never stop unless you make them, ok?"

"No, I get it, I just wasn't expecting it. I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Promise."

"Good. Gimme your master keys, then."

Jenny took the keyring out of her pocket and handed them to T.Rex. He flipped to the East Wing dormitory master and started to key into the nearest room.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"We gotta get something," T.Rex said with a grin as he unlocked the door. He handed the keys back and listened intently for any noise. Hearing none, he readied his crowbar and opened the door. As he entered, he noticed Jenny was just a step behind him.

"Wait," he said curtly, afraid that there were zeds waiting to ambush them on the other side of the door. He slid into the room and checked the closets and under the beds, finding nothing. He quickly entered the bathroom and pulled back the shower curtain with his crowbar. Just to be safe, he entered the adjacent suite and checked it for zombies.

There were none, and T.Rex let out a sigh. "Follow me," he said, loud enough for Jenny to hear. She joined him in the dorm room and looked around, confused.

"What do we need in here?" she asked.

"I want you to tear down that curtain and use it to clean up the broken glass in the hallway," T.Rex said as he patted the nearby mattress with his hand. "I'll be right behind you with this, and then I want you to come back and grab the other one, okay?"

"Where are we going?"

"The elevator lobby."

"What?!"

"The elevator lobby."

"What, are we gonna jump out the window or something?"

"Actually, yes."

"You can't be serious."

"Of course I'm serious."

"Ryan, we're not jumping three stories, even with a pair of mattresses."

"We're not going to jump three stories. We're going to jump one."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's less than a one-story drop from the North side of the East 3rd floor elevator lobby onto the roof of the central part of the building. We'll land on top of the front of the dining hall. From there we dash across the roof to the loading docks, and then we're about 100 feet from the parking garage. Voilà."

She shot him a skeptical look. "What?" he said. "The whole bottom floor is filled with zombies! I ran into a pack of them trying to get here in the first place. This route takes us above it all, straight over and out of here."

Jenny sighed and set to work. T.Rex hefted the mattress onto its side and slid it all the way to the elevator lobby, still listening carefully for zeds. As he waited for Jenny to bring the second mattress, T.Rex set about clearing the glass that separated them from the nearby roof. With several vicious swings of his crowbar, he shattered the pane of glass and cleared the glass bits from the rim.

When Jenny arrived with the other mattress they worked together to stuff the bulky bedding through the impromptu exit.

"Ladies first," T.Rex said, gesturing outside.

"Uh, I think I'd rather let you go first?" Jenny said hesitantly.

"Don't have to tell me twice," T.Rex said. He climbed up onto the rim and hopped over, landing squarely on the mattresses without incident. "Now toss down your bookbag and I'll catch it!" he said, trying to project his voice without yelling to attract attention. He already regretted the noise of breaking an exterior window, but they were committed at this point.

"Here you go!" Jenny said, and launched her bookbag out the window. T.Rex caught it, but it was unexpectedly heavy and it collapsed him to the ground. He recovered, and motioned for Jenny to follow. He glanced quickly to the parking garage, but didn't see any Fools.

Cautiously, she climbed onto the rim of the window and jumped out, landing comfortably onto the mattresses. "That was kinda fun!" she said, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

"C'mon, babe, almost there," T.Rex urged. He helped her to her feet and they jogged across the gravel roof of Hillenbrand Hall to the rear loading docks. T.Rex ignored the nearby zeds and quickly scanned the sides of the building.

"There!" he pointed to a large bin against the side of the building. "We hop onto that container, down onto the ground, and I want you to run as fast as you can to the second story of the parking garage, okay?"

Jenny nodded and followed him down from the roof to concrete. By now a half a dozen zeds loitering close by had taken notice of the duo and had come to feast. They staggered from multiple directions, eyes wide and mouths agape.

T.Rex growled and sprinted out to face the closest one, an older overweight female zed with tattered clothes. He ran just past the zed, ducking under its outstretched arms. With one fluid motion he turned and rammed his crowbar through the back of its skull until it exited through the zed's face face. T.Rex planted his foot on its back and ripped his crowbar out, ready for his next target.

A pair of Asian zeds had decided that the fleeing Jenny was a more tantalizing target. They staggered for her, ignoring all else.

Fine with me, T.Rex thought as he raced after them. He caught up quickly, and shoved them violently forward from behind. Without the motor skills to compensate, the zombies face planted into the grass, and T.Rex dispatched them both with his crowbar before they could get up.

He stood and turned, panting heavily. Another zed was laying in the grass, an arrow planted firmly in its ear. Grinning, he sprinted towards the next zombie, a muscular black zed. As he closed the distance there was a loud crack of a rifle, and T.Rex's target turned to look up at the noise.

Seizing the opportunity, T.Rex ran straight past the zed and swung his crowbar, hooking the zed in the temple and pulling it to the ground, head wrenched nearly backwards.

When T.Rex stood again there were no zombies in the immediate area standing. Worried about the noise of the rifle, he jogged to the stairwell and headed to the second floor of the parking garage. He threw open the door and saw some of the Fools huddling near the edge of the building.

Rubble and Angel Hair were waiting with weapons drawn as T.Rex ran to them. Jenny sat nearby, crying, as Kamikaze tried to comfort her.

T.Rex strained to catch his breath. "Where...the hell...are Peace and Beard...and Cowboy?"

Kamikaze spoke first. "They went into Hillenbrand. Together. They said they were going to try and look for some food in the dining hall while you were rescuing Jenny. They said they would be back before you got here, but that was a while ago."

No! No no no no no! T.Rex screamed in his head. "Are you kidding?!" he said, not bothering to keep his voice down. "Why did you let them - never mind. Just... fuck. This is bad." He dropped to the ground and fumbled through his pack.

"What do we do now?" Angel Hair asked, looking nervously around the parking garage.

T.Rex grabbed his Mag-Lite flashlight from his bag. He looked at the remaining Fools with a mixture of frustration, fear, and anger. "You three: stay here and guard this area. If I'm not back soon, head towards West State Street, and get Jenny to safety."

"Are you sure?" Rubble said. "Maybe we could help you if you-"

"No," T.Rex cut him off. "Nobody knows this building like I do, and I already know it's a mess in there. If you start to get overrun, fall back. I don't want to lose more today than we have to."

He moved over to Jenny. "And you," he said, kissing her on her forehead. "Stay with them. I know I just got you back, but now I have to go help them, okay?"

She looked back at him through teary eyes and nodded. "I love you," she said. "Be safe."

T.Rex took his flashlight and crowbar and ran for the parking garage stairwell.

Word Count: 53,092

Chapter 36 - Jenny

2008-12-04T23:27:00.001-05:00

June 14th, 2008
8:13am
Hillenbrand Hall - Room 462

With nothing to lose, T.Rex reached for the door handle. Just as he touched it there was a lengthy rumble from the other side of the door, and Ryan took a step back instinctively. The locks clicked, and the door opened just a fraction.

Jenny's eyes appeared in the gap, and they widened when she recognized who had been knocking. "Oh my god!" she said, nudging the door open and leaping out to hug him.

For several moments neither spoke, holding each other tightly in the darkness. T.Rex looked down the hallway with a nervous glance, then ushered his girlfriend back into the relative safety of the dorm room.

"I was so worried about you! What happened to your arm?" Jenny said as she relocked the door, tears forming in her eyes.

T.Rex gently wrapped his arms around her. "Just a little scratch," he said in a calming voice. "It's okay, I'm here to rescue you."

"I was afraid you w-wouldn't come," Jenny said, now sobbing in his arms. "That something had happened to you, that those awful monsters had hurt you, and when I couldn't get ahold of you on your phone I-"

"Shhhh," T.Rex said, wiping a tear from her cheek. "Doesn't matter now. I'm here, you're here, and I'm going to take you far away from all of this mess. I need to know what happened, though. Are you okay? Is there anybody else in the building?"

Jenny squeezed her boyfriend tightly. "I'm okay," she said quietly. "Days ago we got a call from Liz that there was some sort of police action on the Eastern portion of campus, and that we weren't allowed to leave the building. I heard some rumors that there was a mob or something, so I ran down to the RA kitchenette and grabbed all of my snacks, just in case. When I got back there was an official Purdue email about some sort of 'civil disturbance', and that we had been asked to stay in our rooms.

"So I waited in my room, like they made us, and every time I looked out the window there more of them. At first there were just a few, coming from over by Meredith, and as they days went on they kept coming. Then the power went out, and I got so scared I went to find Mike. He decided that as supervisor he would gather up all the OAs and we stayed together in his room. Then... then..."her voice trailed off as she looked away.

"Hey," T.Rex said, "look at me," as he guided her face back to meet his gaze. "I've got you now, I just need to know what's going on before we get going."

"They never came back!" she blurted out. "Abe and Brett left to go get some supplies and to block up some of the exits, but we never heard back from them. Then we waited even longer, trying to keep up our spirits telling stories about the awful conferences we've had. Kate just sat in the corner and wouldn't talk.

"Then one day they broke through the window. Mike told us to run, and so I did. I ran in the dark back to my room and I don't know what happened to any of them!" Jenny said, crying into Ryan's shirt.

T.Rex kissed her forehead. "You did the best you could. The most important thing right now, though, is for you to get your things so I get you out of here. Away from campus, away to the country. Can you do that for me?"

Sniffling, Jenny nodded. As she scurried about the room, T.Rex went to the window and peeked around the curtains. The view from Jenny's room covered most of the exit route he had planned, and there looked to be just a handful of zeds in the way.

I might actually pull this off, T.Rex said to himself, lost in thought as he imagined their escape.

"You look very different," Jenny said offhand as she stuffed her bookbag with clothes.

T.Rex snapped back to focus. "What was that?"

"You look different. I mean, I haven't seen you in almost two weeks..."

"Oh, well, I did cut my hair," T.Rex said as he moved towards the bathroom. In the dim light he could see his reflection, and it startled him. His hair was shorter, and he had a light beard, but beyond that he looked ragged and worn. His shirt was a canvas of gore, sweat, and dust, and his eyes looked as bad as he felt.

"Sorry I'm so gross," Ryan apologized. "It was...an...interesting trip over here. I would've been here sooner but-" he stopped as Jenny crossed the room and put a finger over his lips.

"Don't worry about it," she whispered. "You're still my knight in sort-of-shining armor. I'm just happy to see you." She pulled his shirt so their lips met, and they kissed for a long while before T.Rex broke it off.

He grinned. "We need to get going, hon. The Fools are waiting."

Her eyes widened. "The Fools?" Jenny had been with Ryan longer than some of them had been in the improv troupe.

"The ones on campus when the zeds hit: Peace, Beard, Kamikaze, Cowboy, Angel Hair, and Rubble."

"Where are they?"

"Holding down the fort in the Hillenbrand Parking garage." T.Rex left out his other thought: I hope.

Jenny smiled. "I think I'm ready to go, then," she said. Ryan took a quick glance through her bookbag to double check what supplies she had. It wasn't much, but it did include a laptop, camera, and more medicine that the group could use. Nothing in the room even remotely resembled a weapon, however.

It will have to be enough, T.Rex thought. He had no problem convincing Jenny to cut her hair to lessen the chances of falling into the clutches of the zeds. At T.Rex's insistence they also left a note of the time and date they were leaving, directions of where the group was planning on going, and contact numbers of the lifeless phones they carried.

"Do you have your master keys?" T.Rex asked, trying to remember everything they might need.

Jenny looked puzzled. "What for?"

"We'll need them to get out of Hillenbrand," he said.

She ran to the closet and retrieved the keyring given to all OAs for the summer that granted access to almost every room in the building. "Anything else?" she asked.

T.Rex glanced at the locked door the separated them from the outside world before turning to his girlfriend. "When we go out there, I need you to stay close and do exactly what I say, okay? Stay quiet unless you see something, and let me handle the zeds."

"Are you kidding me? I'm not going to let you out of my sight," she said with a weak smile that seemed to mask a worried expression.

Together they quietly slipped into the dark hallway. A quiet moan drifted through the hallway, and T.Rex looked around with an intent stare, daring anything to challenge his protective stance. After several moments, they continued cautiously. Picking their way over and around the debris, they reached the stairwell at the end of the hall without incident.

T.Rex looked back at Jenny and pointed to the stairwell door, then pointed downward, then flashed three fingers. She nodded back, and he eased the door open. A small amount of sunlight leaked through the windows, illuminating their path. The door was halfway open before the hinge squeaked, echoing in the vertical expanse of the stairwell.

"Fuck!" he hissed. T.Rex grabbed Jenny's wrist and took off down the stairs, wondering if their echoing footsteps masked any nearby zeds. When they reached the third floor he flung the door open and dashed inside, crowbar ready to dispatch any threat.

He scanned the darkness. Nothing. "Jenny?" he said quietly over his shoulder.

"Yeah?" she said back, gently tapping his shoulder.

T.Rex released the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "Just checking." He moved forward slowly, extra conscious with Jenny in tow.

A quiet crunching sound caught their attention, and they both froze. T.Rex squinted into the dim corridor and saw a single zed stumble into the hallway from the study lounge area.

"Get back," Ryan said without hesitation, and took a few steps forward. The zombie lurched closer, and every time it placed a foot on the ground there was an odd clicking noise. T.Rex watched in puzzlement as the creature drew near.

"Ohhhhh," he said aloud, when he suddenly realized the zed most likely had broken glass embedded in its foot, probably from the study lounge. It was a slender zed, wearing a pair of broken glasses and sporting a pair of plaid pajamas.

The creature showed no signs of pain as it walked, but the glass gave it a distinctive gait. T.Rex waited, studying the motion for an opening. When the zed was just a few feet away T.Rex moved, stepping into a soccer-style kick that connected with the inside of the zed's leg, just as it shifted its weight to the other side.

Off balance, the zed toppled onto the floor. T.Rex spun and drove the tip of his crowbar directly into the back of the zed's skull, piercing the decaying flesh and weakened bone violently. There was a twitch of the zombie's feet, then all was still.

Word Count: 51,573

Chapter 35 - Friend or Foe

2008-12-04T22:37:00.001-05:00

June 14th, 2008
7:55am
Hillenbrand Hall - East Wing Elevator Shaft

It was only now, clinging desperately to a few thin bars of metal over a horde of agitated and ravenous zombies, that T.Rex began to question the wisdom of leaving his entire group of friends behind.

He stubbornly refused to look down and tried to ignore the sounds of gnashing teeth below. One shaking hand at a time he climbed the rungs, heading for the fourth floor. I wonder how they're doing out there, T.Rex wondered to himself. Are they under attack? Are they slaughtering zeds by the dozen, their only real problem trying to keep up with Beard? Or maybe they're desperately trying to stem the tide, hoping I will show up soon before they get overwhelmed.

Ryan started climbing faster at the last thought. Hopefully they're hidden out of sight, conserving ammo and energy, wishing they weren't so bored. Then I can rescue Jenny, come back the hero, and tell them all about how I masterminded this rescue.

A minuscule amount of light emanated from the second floor elevator doors as T.Rex climbed past. The zeds below continued to bang on the walls and rattle anything they could reach, including the elevator cables all around.

Why do I always go for the action hero bullshit? T.Rex argued with himself. First, the red barrel fiasco in the Machine Shop, and then I seriously thought climbing the cable was going to work? Let's pretend that I actually made it all the way to the fourth floor - then what? I'm going to leap from the center of the elevator shaft onto the ledge in front of the doors? A ledge a few inches wide?

T.Rex continued to close the distance, climbing past the third floor doors. He winced every time the crowbar swinging from his belt loop knocked against the wall, preventing any sort of stealth. Too curious, he broke his mental discipline and looked down past his shoes. The shadows concealed the zombies below, but they could still be heard clawing for food. I can still tell the Fools I went all Die Hard on these motherfuckers, he thought with a grin. He knew Cowboy in particular would enjoy if he bent the truth describing how things really happened.

The air was slightly warmer as T.Rex neared the fourth floor. After so much fighting and climbing he was beginning to sweat profusely, so he wiped his brow with his sleeve to try and keep his hands dry. His grip was starting to feel weak, and his legs were tired. T.Rex fought back another yawn, feeling the exhaustion wash over his body.

He'd known tired before. He was an engineering student (or used to be, depending on how bad the zed threat was), and many nights sleep was a lower priority than debugging code or finishing one more set of problems. T.Rex shook his head vigorously and looked for some way move from the elevator shaft and back out into the hall.

A pair of small silver boxes were mounted on the wall nearby, both marked "4" in bold font. T.Rex folded his left arm around a rung for stability and reached out with his free arm to investigate. He expected to have to use his crowbar yet again to break something, and was pleasantly surprised when the first metal case clicked open with little resistance, exposing a series of fuses and wires.

Ryan moved onto the second larger box, closer to the doors. Inside was a series of worn mechanical gears and levers. T.Rex leaned in and squinted in the dim light to read a warning label, trying to discern the purpose of the device. It said: Warning - Do Not Disengage Door Springs While Elevators Are Active.

Success! T.Rex reached in and cycled the lever, and there was a corresponding clanking sound inside the nearby door. Very carefully he climbed the rungs until he was level with the fourth floor doors. Then he unhooked his crowbar and held it out, until the tip of the weapon caught the edge of the closest door. With the springs disengaged, he pulled the crowbar toward him and the door slid open easily.

The rungs were less than two feet from the door, but it seemed like an enormous chasm with the elevator shaft extending below. T.Rex just barely managed to get one foot onto the ledge while still maintaining his position on the rungs. He took a deep breath and shifted his weight, frantically clutching the smooth elevator door rim until he found something to hold on to.

With a series of clumsy and rushed motions Ryan planted both feet on solid ground and held tightly onto the elevator door frame. He panted, nervously excited that he had managed not to plummet to his death.

Just as he found his balance, T.Rex crouched down and crawled under the nearby lobby window. He was afraid that in the daylight any movement, even four stories up, might attract zeds. He wasn't about to draw any more attention to Hillenbrand if he could help it, not when he was this close to his goal.

The orientation of the building kept the parking garage from T.Rex's view, so he crawled from the lobby to the hallway leading to the fourth floor rooms. He would check on the Fools later, when he had Jenny in tow. Convinced he was out of sight from the outside world, T.Rex stood and clutched his crowbar, resting it on his shoulder in a ready position.

Where the first floor was desolate, the fourth floor was chaos. Furniture littered the hallways, forming an obstacle course that blocked line of sight to either end of the floor. Papers, broken glass, even bits of blood were scattered about. The fading light from the elevator lobby made it difficult to even see, much less navigate, and more than once T.Rex had to catch himself from tripping or slipping as he made his way to the room he hoped Jenny was in.

As an Operations Assistant, Jenny was given the Resident Assistant's room for the summer - a room that was larger, nicer, and specifically made for one person. It was located near the center of the v-shaped hallway, just to the right of the center study lounge. T.Rex picked his way over the debris and froze when he felt his hand touch flesh.

His hand recoiled on instinct, and he stopped just short of bludgeoning the errant limb when he recognized the body it was attached to. Despite the gray decaying flesh and missing eye, he could recognize the face of Kevin Schroer - an OA at Hillenbrand and one of his former coworkers. The corpse was sprawled out on the ground, with a large dent in the side of the skull and several bite marks on the right side of the body. A sickly brown fluid pooled on the ground under Kevin's body.

T.Rex grimaced and nodded solemnly, hoping his friend had not suffered much - but knowing that was unlikely. Just to be safe he quickly drove his crowbar though Kevin's eye socket, compacting what brain matter remained with a squick sound. The corpse remained motionless, and so Ryan moved on.

A large desk blocked the way to Jenny's room. T.Rex cleared a space beside it before simply shouldering it aside, unable to think of a way to muffle the noise. He stood awkwardly in front of room 462, unsure of the best way to go about things. He didn't want to make a lot of noise, and he was afraid of how he would handle most of the possible outcomes.

Like a delivery man he knocked on the door, taking special care to try and sound as rhythmic and lively as possible. He waited for several moments before knocking again, still staccato but a different pattern. T.Rex looked around, nervously, and straightened his shirt out of habit.

"Jenny?" he said at a normal volume, running his hand through his hair. "Please answer," he whispered.

Word Count: 49,988

Reference Photo

2008-11-17T22:42:00.007-05:00

If you are unfamiliar with Hillenbrand Hall, this might help you visualize this very important part of the story:

The parking garage is located in the very bottom left (you can see the lines on the roof). The East tower is on the right and has a darker roof. The front entrance is in the center at the top (green roof). Photo courtesy of Hinshaw Roofing.

I'm not sure if this sort of media would make the final cut of any serious edit of my novel, but here it is anyway - I make such an effort to physically describe the setting that I wanted to make sure everybody was on the same page.

Chapter 34 - Elevation

2008-11-15T20:43:00.000-05:00

June 14th, 2008
7:44am
Hillenbrand Hall - East Wing Elevator 1

Shaking, T.Rex stood and tried to calm his mind to study the situation at hand. He was trapped in a cramped elevator compartment with a reeking corpse, one that had nearly made him lunch. Irregular groans and muffled thumping sounds penetrated the thick elevator doors as an unknown number of zeds outside tried to claw and bash their way in. Without power the lights and the air circulation system were inactive, rendering the hot, stagnant air almost as suffocating as the darkness.

Ryan stomped his foot around in the darkness until he was positive his shoe was firmly pressed against the temple of the dead zed on the floor beside him - he wasn't about to take any chances retrieving his weapon. With a grunt he worked to dislodge his trusted crowbar from the mangled zombie skull, twisting and wriggling the metal until it was free. Best rescue ever, he thought as he wiped the gore from the weapon with his shirt.

Trying to fight through an unknown horde of agitated zombies just outside the elevator not only sounded suicidal to T.Rex, he knew it would bring him no closer to Jenny. There was only one direction to go - up.

There was a thick handrail that lined the interior walls of the elevator compartment at waist height. With great care, T.Rex climbed onto the railing in the corner and balanced each foot against a different wall for stability. He used his crowbar to help rip away the thin metal grating that spanned the ceiling. After tossing it to the floor, he began to feel the bare ceiling for any sort of door to get on top of the elevator.

It was only with the added height of the railing he had the reach to find the maintenance hatch centered above the back wall of the elevator. When he pushed against the panel, it resisted just slightly, so he jammed his crowbar into the seam to pop the lock and pulled. It was difficult trying to find leverage with the tool and still maintaining his balance on the small rail, but he wasn't about to give up.

Man this this thing is useful, he said to himself as the lock gave way. As the door flew open a cool draft poured into the elevator and the smallest bit of light lit T.Rex's face. He took a deep calming breath and tossed his weapon through the hatch. After a pause he heard it clatter reassuringly on the roof.

Arms fully outstretched, his fingertips barely cleared the lip of the hatch. Frustrated, he pushed off the railing with his ankles and hopped upward, enough to grip the lip fully with his hands. He struggled to pull himself up, kicking against the smooth wall of the elevator and finding no purchase. When his head cleared the roof he saw a cable not far away, so he flung his right arm out and grabbed it, and from there he had the leverage to pull the rest of his body up.

T.Rex made it through the hatch and flopped onto the roof, face first into a thick mat of dust. Panting, he inhaled a large breath of soot and particles and began to cough and sputter, desperately trying to brush the dust from his mouth and nose. He flailed about in the darkness, fighting back a panic.

When the dust settled T.Rex noticed he was inches from the edge of the elevator. He instinctively scooted back towards the center of the elevator roof, nearly falling though the hatch in the process. "Damnit!" he said aloud in frustration, and the words echoed slightly throughout the entire elevator shaft.

With his eyes adjusting to the darkness, T.Rex took stock of his surroundings. The three elevators for each tower were divided, with the larger freight elevator alone, and the two smaller passenger elevators next to each other on the other side of the lobby. He was standing on the left passenger elevator, and by his best guess the roof was about 8 feet wide, and 12 feet long.

Looking up, small streams of light appeared at regular intervals along most of the elevator shaft. It wasn't enough light to read by, but it was enough that he could see the basic structure around him. T.Rex theorized that was the morning sunlight pouring into the glass-paneled elevator lobbies of floors three through eight (with the first two and basement obscured by the rest of the building). Some of the light could have manged to peek through the cracks to help illuminate his journey- something that might not have happened if they had gotten to Hillenbrand much sooner. In a way, it was fortunate that we detoured through the tunnels and stopped to find Franklin's journal, T.Rex thought.

He thought he could see the bottom of the other elevator at or near the top of the other side of the elevator shaft. That's good, he thought. Maybe they got the other elevator locked up there before things went to hell.

"Alright," he said aloud to nobody in particular, "one down, three floors to go." He sized up the thickest cable that extended upward and tried to prepare himself to climb. Oh, I've totally got this.

He leaped onto the wire, gripping the tight braided steel with both hands and clamping his legs together. He hung there for a few seconds, uncomfortably, before trying to shuffle upwards. The cable was smooth and featureless, leaving him little to work with in terms of friction. After a few feet it was clear he had the arm strength to pull his body, but the cable was nearly impossible to negotiate.

Ryan let go of the cable, dropping back onto the elevator car. It shook uncomfortably, and he held out his arms to steady himself against the movement. He was running out of options, and he rested his tired arms on his head for a moment trying to think of another solution.

In the quiet of the elevator shaft, he heard rustling. There was a quiet murmur, echoing slightly around him, and T.Rex sensed a blanket of movement coming from nearby. He looked over, and saw the cables for the other elevator shaking slightly.

Grabbing a nearby cable for balance, Ryan looked out into the shaft for a clue. Below, in the darkness, he could see movement in the shadows. Squinting, he thought he could make out a limb here, a skull there. Crouching, he saw numerous pairs of eyes looking back up at him. Crammed into the bottom of the elevator shaft an army of zeds, reaching up for him. They grabbed at cables and clawed at the walls, trying in vain to get closer to him.

T.Rex's eyes widened, realizing that Hillenbrand was far from secure. For some reason, the basement was a pool of undead, and he had no way of knowing if they had access to the stairwells. It was only because of their poor motor skills that they hadn't gotten any closer to him already. Looking at the sea of teeth he was glad for a moment that Jenny's room was above, and not below him.

He looked around for something to throw down at them, a loose part or perhaps a fire extinguisher. As he searched the top of the roof of the elevator he discovered there was a small set of rungs built into the wall, between the two elevators on the side with the doors.

"Yes!" he said, finally feeling like something was going his way. He tucked the curved part of his crowbar into a beltloop and very carefully positioned himself on the edge of the elevator roof near the rungs. He took a cautious step out and planted his foot on the closest rung before reaching out and gripping a chest height rung tightly with both hands. He stepped completely off the elevator and took a deep breath. Don't look down, he said to himself over and over, and began to climb.

Word Count: 48,638

Chapter 33 - A Shot in the Dark

2008-11-11T03:05:00.004-05:00

June 14th, 2008
7:25am
Hillenbrand Parking Garage

T.Rex knew the layout of Hillenbrand Hall inside and out, having lived or worked there in some capacity for six semesters and two summers over the past four years. The residence hall was composed of two large towers that held the students' rooms - both had eight floors each containing 50 two-person suites and a trio of elevators in the center. The suites were arranged in pairs, so that four students shared a common bathroom. Every floor also had a kitchenette, an ironing room, several utility closets, and a large study room in the center. As an upperclassmen hall, the rooms were larger (and more expensive) than most of the other University housing options.

Viewed from the top, the towers were shaped like a pair of "v"s connected at their vertices by a large green-roofed rectangular complex that held Hillenbrand's dining hall and kitchen, main office, computer lab, laundry facilities, and more study lounges. Deep in the basement was a complex maze of storage cells, utilities, and the campus offices for the University Residences Human Resources department.

Armed with a mental blueprint and an abundance of adrenaline, T.Rex took the parking garage stairs two at a time and paused just at the bottom of the stairwell. He stood on his tiptoes and peeked through the window in the door, scanning for zeds.

With no zombies in sight, T.Rex planned to sprint directly to the closest entrance - the rear dining hall doors, right next to the West tower elevators. He was only carrying his crowbar, by now a trusty companion. The rest of his equipment he'd left with the Fools to lighten his load, but it left him feeling naked and unprepared to handle any emergencies.

He took a few calming breaths and gently eased the stairwell door open, peeking around the corner. A single zed stood to a few yards to his right, staring blankly at the sky and wearing nothing but a tattered pair of shorts and a pair of Crocs. T.Rex crept forward, hoping to sneak past the zed before it could utter any warning to other zombies that might be in the area.

The zed sniffed loudly and jerked its body, turning to face T.Rex. When they made eye contact, the creature's jaw dropped in anticipation just before an arrow pierced its skull from above. The zed froze and flopped onto the ground, motionless.

T.Rex threw a quick salute to the Fools on the second story of the parking garage before dashing to his entry point. The glass panels of the doors were gone, replaced by a few jagged shards sticking to the frame. A carpet of broken glass blanketed the surrounding sidewalk, and Ryan did his best to circumvent the obstacle by traipsing through the nearby flowerbed and gingerly stepping through the doorway.

Do I even want to know what made that hole? T.Rex pondered as he entered the building. At least I don't have to worry about my Purdue ID not working in the electronic swipe locks. With the power out I'm pretty sure the doors default to locked and wouldn't open.

The elevator lobby was completely silent. The only light on the ground floor came leaking in from the broken door, and T.Rex took a moment to try and let his eyes adjust. He was used to the comforting glow of fluorescent lights providing bland but functional illumination.

Fighting back a yawn, T.Rex poked the Up button for the elevator. Nothing happened. Of course, he said to himself. Fucking useless. He noted the irony of increased building security against zeds as modern conveniences began to shut down.

During the school year the towers were split by gender, with the farther East tower being the female side. This typically carried over during the summer, when the buildings were used as housing for various programs- run in part by Operations Assistants like Jenny and himself in years past. Last he knew, she was stationed on the fourth floor, so he would begin his ascent from the first floor after crossing the central portion of Hillenbrand. He could only hope that she was still there- it was an awfully large building to have to search room by room.

Glancing to his right he saw the dining hall entrance, quiet and bathed in near-darkness. The lobby in front was normally packed with a line of hungry students, waiting for their allotted meals. Currently, it was devoid of any presence and what little light spilled in quickly faded, creating numerous shadows. Moving slowly, T.Rex listened intently for any noise that might indicate another person or zed nearby. Now cloaked in almost complete darkness, Ryan wished desperately he'd taken a flashlight. Fortunately, he knew his way around quite well.

He moved to the East elevator lobby without incident, and the outside doors on that side were boarded up. Ryan moved through the short hallway beside the elevators, which led him to the first floor rooms. There was a crack of light dead ahead, where the curtains of the study lounge didn't quite overlap. Using that as a guidepost, T.Rex took the left hallway. Gripping his crowbar in his dominant right hand, he kept close to the side of the hall to let his left hand very gently follow the wall. This way, he could count the number of door handles he passed and steady his path in the darkness.

Clunk. The crowbar in T.Rex's hand found the door at the end of the hall with a loud noise, and he immediately froze, heart pounding in his chest. Way to go, slick! The West half of campus probably heard that one! he chided himself. He waited for what felt like an eternity before moving again, hoping above all else nothing was lurking in the hallway.

Reaching out, T.Rex gently tried the handle. The wooden door was supposed to lead to a small anteroom that connected the outside with the stairwell and the first floor, but the handle would not not turn more than a quarter of the way. Damnit, where's my lock picker? T.Rex muttered under his breath. He was just about to turn around when a thought struck him.

When the crowbar struck the door, it sounded a lot denser than I would've guessed. Plus, the handle itself moves, but not all the way. He decided to risk a bit of noise to try and confirm his theory. He stepped back and knocked on a similar door, one that led to a student room. It made a light rap against his knuckle. Knocking on the first door resulted in a much deeper thud. T.Rex crouched down and attempted to slide the thinnest portion of his crowbar under the door.

Just partway in there was a click, and the crowbar would move no more. Yup, he thought, somebody has barricaded the room ahead, I'm guessing with some of the furniture from the nearby rooms. Not a bad idea, as it would keep zeds out of the building, plus keep the ones inside stuck on the ground floors. Unfortunately, that means keeping me out, as well - there's no way I could break through-

A nearby growl caught him by surprise enough to make him jump into the air. T.Rex spun and faced the darkness, terrified but ready to fight for his life. His eyes darted left and right, trying to discern any shapes in the hallway. After several moments he felt a sharp jab to his abdomen as the noise repeated.

T.Rex looked down at his midsection, and then rolled his eyes. His stomach was growling and a normal inconvenience became a condition that could draw unwanted attention to himself. It was the first time he'd consciously thought about food in several hours, and he wondered for a moment how the other Fools were holding up. If they were beginning to feel slowed by hunger or lack of sleep. If they were safe, or perhaps under attack.

Shaking his head, he quietly retraced his path to the middle of the first floor and went to the right side of the hallway. Halfway down the corridor he heard a noise that was much different from his stomach - a low moan that came from behind. Speeding up, T.Rex fumbled in the darkness and found the handle for the door at the end of the hall.

The handle moved even less than the left side handle did. A quick check of his crowbar under the door confirmed both sides were likely barricaded. Frustrating, he thought, but that means there's a better chance Jenny is alive. It gave him hope that somebody, perhaps the Hillenbrand Staff together, had attempted to secure the building before being overrun. T.Rex grinned, knowing Jenny would enjoy his optimism.

He had one last shot at getting to the higher floors, and it meant heading towards the noises he heard. Gritting his teeth, T.Rex sneaked back towards the East side elevator lobby. The noise increased as he got closer- by the time he reached the study lounge in the center of the hallway, a pair of groans and a steady wheeze had joined in.

Ryan tiptoed to the corner of the hallway just outside the elevators and paused, listening intently. Another trio of distinct "voices" had joined the nearby cacophony. T.Rex peeked around and saw the empty dining hall lobby, and the dim light at the far end from the broken doors. Somewhat confident the coast was clear, he turned the corner and moved in front of one of the elevators.

Very gingerly, as to not make any noise, he slipped his fingers between the elevator doors and pulled, trying to force them apart. When they didn't budge, he slipped his crowbar into place and strained. The inner door mechanisms clicked backward loudly, and the nearby sounds of undead stopped momentarily.

"Shit!" T.Rex hissed. He heaved, and the outer doors groaned open, nearly drowning out the nearby moans. The elevator doors were just inches apart when the first few zeds staggered into the dining hall lobby, looking for food. They appeared as stark silhouettes in the dimly lit hall, jerking and shuffling towards Ryan.

Desperate, T.Rex placed his foot on the frame of the elevator entrance and used his entire body for leverage. The doors protested at first, but as T.Rex extended his legs they relented. More than a dozen zombies came closing in, mouths open in anticipation.

The doors opened wide enough that the crowbar lost purchase and clattered to the ground, spinning, twisting, threatening to fall through the crack on the floor. T.Rex, with his leg on the wall, fell with it, and he quickly snatched the crowbar and rolled into the elevator. The closest zed managed to stagger in as well, the rest not far behind.

Without electricity or a crowbar holding them open, the elevator doors defaulted to internal springs and began to close slowly and inexorably.

Now confined in the elevator with a single zed, Ryan frantically crawled backwards on his hands and feet to the back corner. The lead zed plodded forward, arms outstretched and eyes wide with hunger.

"Come and get me, you undead piece of shit!" T.Rex yelled, gripping his crowbar with the hook cradled upside down in his palm. The zombie took the challenge and lunged, reaching down for T.Rex's skull.

T.Rex would have none of it. He extended his short arms fully and kept a firm grip on the crowbar as he thrust it upward, screaming with fury. The bottom of the weapon pierced the zed's jaw just behind the chin and hammered upward, splitting undead skin and muscle until it burst through the top of the zombie's skull with a wet crack.

The zed immediately went limp. T.Rex shoved the corpse aside just as the elevator doors shut, plunging the area into complete darkness.

Word Count: 47,286

Chapter 32 - Fracture

2008-10-29T00:09:00.007-04:00

June 14th, 2008
6:56am
Aviation Drive

Beard glanced around the corner of the control tower, surveying the situation. The rest of the Fools waited anxiously, lined up against the back of the building with weapons drawn.

T.Rex tried to keep his focus on the task at hand - helping guide the Fools through the hostile airport area, en route to Hillenbrand Hall. However, the closer they got to their destination, the harder he found it to concentrate on anything but worrying about Jenny. He wondered if she was hurt, or even still alive. Or worse, a zombie.

"Let's do this," Rubble said, clapping his hands on T.Rex's shoulder. Ryan looked around and saw that he'd been a bit too involved in his thoughts - the rest of the Fools were following Beard at a brisk jog across the airport taxiway. Together, he and Rubble joined them until the entire group paused behind another airport building.

"Two more buildings," Beard warned the group, "and then we're gonna make a mad dash for the treeline. Got it?" Beard looked back at the Fools, who all nodded in succession.

T.Rex nervously adjusted the grip on his crowbar and glanced around. The Fools were holding their ground in an alley between the control tower building and the featureless backside of a large hangar. The group shifted nervously, like a pack of animals expecting an ambush. Ryan knew their path would take them through the main taxiways of the airport before they'd reach the relative safety of the treeline.

Beard crept to the edge of the hangar and peeked around. He quickly turned back and grimaced, before motioning the Fools onward with a violent motion. "Just keep moving!" he hissed as each Fool turned the corner to the previously unseen airport grounds.

T.Rex followed his friends into a haunting scene. The mixed fleet of aircraft owned and operated by the University - normally secured and stored in neat rows by the checklist minded pilots - were gone. In their place was a graveyard of fuel spills and tie-down straps blowing in the wind. Just shy of the entrance ramp to the runway were a pair of high wing aircraft in a mangled heap.

Most likely two pilots tried to jockey for takeoff once the zed invasion was apparent, T.Rex surmised. Power outages at the control tower probably didn't help with communication, either. He could see other signs of ill-conceived departures: broken hangar doors, seats and other non-essential gear tossed aside. One aircraft at the far end of the runway had run out of room before reaching takeoff speed; personal effects strewn about the wreckage indicated the pilot tried unsuccessfully to escape with more than his life.

"C'mon!" Peace whispered, and T.Rex shook his head clear of the CSI-analysis of the airport grounds. They were halfway to the trees when a single zombie flopped out of a nearby airplane and lurched for them. It moaned softly as it plodded forward, still about 15 yards from the group. In a split second Ryan weighed the idea of stopping to silence the lone straggler to cover their exit versus the threat of being caught up in an energy-draining fight with more.

Twang! Rubble's bow sounded as a single arrow flew out and sunk deep into the zed's face. The monster fell over backwards onto the concrete, its face contorted into the closest approximation of a look of surprise it could manage. Most of the Fools glanced over to admire the marksmanship before continuing on, arranged in a loose line formation.

The group paused once more at the edge of an outbuilding to regroup. All were panting to some degree except Beard, who gave a quick glance ahead before signaling to move again. The Fools continued on, crossing over the railroad tracks that marked the Northern airport boundary. They were a soccer field's length from the treeline when Angel Hair's ankle gave out.

"Ack!" Angel Hair cried out in mid-stride, flopping onto the ground. His weapon slid away in the grass but his pack stayed on. Without hesitation Rubble and Kamikaze handed off their weapons before scooping up Angel Hair and continuing to make for the trees. Like a well-oiled machine, Peace grabbed the errant pool cue and did a quick spin, checking for threats. Together, the entire group of Fools managed to hobble to the edge of the forest before stopping to catch their breath.

Gently Rubble and Kamikaze lowered Angel Hair to the ground before joining the rest of the group in a protective circle around him. They all were turned to face the forest around them. "Are you okay?" T.Rex asked over his shoulder between breaths.

"That's the first time I really put a lot of strain on my ankle since I fell on the rooftop," Angel Hair said with a wince, "but I think it might be okay if I can give it some rest." The Fools looked at each other, worried.

We all could use some rest, T.Rex thought, but we don't have time to sit and wait for Angel Hair to get better, nor do we have much in the way of treatment. Sitting around is just going to make us vulnerable, anyway.

Rubble shrugged and placed his equipment on the ground. "C'mon, little buddy," he said, and effortlessly hoisted his friend on his back. Rubble spoke calmly: "If somebody can carry our stuff and we stay out of trouble, I can carry him for a bit."

T.Rex made an executive decision to distribute some of the medicine they'd taken with them from the apartment fortress. He gave a pair of aspirin tablets to Angel Hair and ordered everyone to take a hydration break before setting out into to the woods.

Cautiously the Fools picked their way through the trees, staying close enough to maintain a course parallel to the edge of the woods but far enough in to stay obscured - or so they hoped. They were arrayed in a loose diamond formation, with Beard on point and Peace just behind, Angel Hair piggybacked with Rubble between Kamikaze and Cowboy, with T.Rex bringing up the rear. They traveled in relative silence, only whispering when necessary.

Without thinking about it, the Fools had begun to truly move and act like a single entity as they trekked through the woods. They were reaching a sort of group mind consciousness that was the hallmark of their best performances on stage, and T.Rex noticed. Like in the tunnels, they'd periodically pause to listen for the sounds of danger, to make sure the sounds of their walking wasn't concealing a stalking zed.

The Fools came across a small red sedan that had careened into the forest, flattened some shrubbery, and came to rest embedded at an angle in the trunk of a large oak. T.Rex was incredibly confused for a moment until he realized that St. Route 26 ran through this portion of the woods. With concentration he could make out the paved asphalt a few yards ahead through the trees. They were all so used to the sounds of cars and civilization that the road had simply snuck up on them.

Crossing the road and avoiding the car meant heading deeper into the woods, so the Fools very cautiously followed Beard's lead and backtracked a bit into the trees. Once they reached the edge of the forest farther in, they ran as a group across the road and waited on the other side for any response to the flight. There was none, so they continued on and moved back towards the edge of the forest, closer to Purdue's campus.

On the way T.Rex could see across the road to the wrecked sedan- from the different angle he could see the entire passenger side window was shattered, and a bloody smear coated the entire door. A Papa John's delivery sign lay on the ground near the vehicle, jarred loose from the impact. T.Rex wondered if the delivery person had tried to flee an overrun store, or perhaps swerved to avoid a shadow in the night en route to a delivery, or something worse.

The other side of SR 26 was much more active, and the Fools heard moaning and shuffling in nearly all directions. Still, they reached the Eastern edge of the woods without any encounters. They paused, and T.Rex strode to the front to address the Fools.

"I don't think I have to tell you that this next part is crucial," he began, "but we're very close to Hillenbrand. We have to cover a lot of open ground to get past Purdue West, and then we'll make for the parking garage just behind the residence hall. Questions?"

The Fools were tense, alert, and ready to go. Nobody objected, and T.Rex signaled for the group to move. They burst from the woods and jogged across McCormick Road, heading for the parking lot behind the Purdue West Shopping Center.

Most of the cars were missing from the parking lot, so Beard motioned for them to continue on rather than try and pause behind the sparse cover. They reached the complex and paused, resting against the front of a for-rent office space. T.Rex saw a handful of shapes nearby beginning to stir, no doubt zeds looking for their next meal.

Just then the pane of glass the Fools were resting on wobbled with a loud bang and the group spun, nearly losing Angel Hair in the process. A trio of zombies pressed themselves against the glass trying to get to the Fools, dragging their fingers against the glass with such force that their decaying skin began to slough off. The screams of the zeds were muffled by the glass and the surprised screams of the Fools in response.

"MOVE!" Beard said, and the Fools took off after him. They rounded the corner and sprinted through the shopping complex, the sounds of glass shattering in the distance. They ran faster, striking down a pair of skinny zeds in track jackets in their way. With the path clear they ran out into the early daybreak and across McCutcheon Drive. They didn't stop until they were in the shadows of the ground floor of the parking garage.

Panting, T.Rex began to walk up the ramp to the second floor, determined to finish the job they'd started. The rest of the Fools followed him, exhausted from their sprint from the woods. Angel Hair had to duck to fit under the parking garage pipes. It was only when they reached the second floor overlooking the rear entrance to Hillenbrand that T.Rex stopped and dropped his equipment on the floor.

"I'm going in there," he said, pointing to the residence hall, "and I need you guys to wait here for me while I go rescue Jenny." He paused to catch his breath, and the entire group objected.

"What about the buddy system!?" Rubble said.

"What if you get lost?" Cowboy asked.

"Or surrounded by zeds?" Beard snorted.

T.Rex waved his hand and cut them off. "No. I'm doing this alone. I know the building better than anybody, and I've worked there and lived there longer than most of you have been Fools. Another person is just going to slow me down and make too much noise if I have to change plans on the fly, and I may need to squeeze through some pretty small spaces. I'm going to run in, break or kill anything in my way, grab my girlfriend, and then meet you back here. I need you all to cover me and make sure I- we have a safe exit. Got it?"

Ryan expected the group to object, possibly to the point where he would have to stay and they would go rescue Jenny. Instead, they slowly nodded and one by one raised their hands in salute.

He slowly picked up his crowbar and returned the gesture with his free hand. He took off, jogging for the garage stairwell. He looked back and saw Rubble counting his remaining arrows. Kamikaze grimly picked up Ryan's rifle and glanced through the scope. They would cover his assault on Hillenbrand while the rest of the Fools armed up, ready to defend their garage spot from any and all threats.

As T.Rex reached the door to the stairwell his mind was racing.

How the hell am I gonna pull this one off?

Word Count: 45,300

Another Delay

2008-08-18T18:50:00.002-04:00

Vacation, concert, moving, and getting ready for back to school.

New chapter soon, but once classes start (August 25) I think I may scale back to going for a new chapter every other week, at least until I get used to things. So close...

Chapter 31 - On Approach

2008-08-04T22:04:00.007-04:00

June 14th, 2008
6:33am
KLAF Maintenance Terminal

"I don't expect any trouble topside," T.Rex cautioned the Fools around him, "but just in case, let's pair off, with one person carrying double bags and the other ready to clear any threat. That said, grab your gear and climb up when you're ready, and once we're all up we'll evaluate the situation from there."

Ryan stayed at the bottom of the maintenance room, checking each pair and helping Fools shoulder extra equipment before sending them up the rungs. Peace carried Beard's bags and Angel Hair chivalrously offered to carry Kamikaze's equipment. That left just Cowboy and T.Rex standing at the bottom of the ladder.

Cowboy shifted his feet impatiently, glancing up at the outlet in the ceiling. "I take it you wanna go first?" T.Rex asked preemptively.

"Please?" Cowboy said with a wide grin, bouncing up and down.

T.Rex motioned towards the ladder and Cowboy sprung into action, grabbing his bat and racing up the rungs. Chuckling, T.Rex took one last look around the room, taking advantage of the faint light to look around for items they might have missed. Satisfied, he grabbed his own pack before slinging Cowboy's supplies over his shoulder.

It was a short climb up the rungs, and the increasing sunlight felt comforting to T.Rex as he neared the exit. Near the top he held on with his right hand and readjusted the packs with his left, to better fit through the narrow hole. Finally, with the help of the Fools already out, he exited Purdue's tunnel system.

Rubble, Beard, Cowboy and Kamikaze stood around the exit with weapons drawn, scanning the immediate area for any threat. Angel Hair was combing over the equipment, checking the bags in the early sunlight. When T.Rex emerged, they looked at him with a mixture of expressions, most of which looked less than impressed.

T.Rex looked around, confused. They were standing just a few feet from where he had predicted they would exit, and he was pretty proud of that. "What?" he said, defensively.

Peace spoke first. "I thought we'd get out somewhere closer than the airport."

The Fools were standing near the center of the Purdue University Airport, the first university owned airport in the US. It occupied a large piece of land covered almost entirely by concrete, located to the immediate Southwest of campus. The land was dominated by the two medium sized asphalt runways at the Southern end. The primary runway ran approximately East-West, while the smaller secondary runway was oriented Northeast to Southwest. Closer to campus was a series of hangars and buildings that housed classrooms, workshops, and other related buildings.

"Look," T.Rex began, "There aren't many tunnels that run directly under residence halls, and those that do are pretty well sealed up. I studied the maintenance maps, and this was the closest exit I could find that didn't put us smack dab in the middle of a building full of people. I didn't want us to have to fight our way out, okay?"

The Fools grumbled, clearly unhappy with the result, and T.Rex was slightly annoyed. He tried to ignore that feeling and concentrate on his next idea, the one that made the airport an especially attractive destination.

Kamikaze was never one to suffer petty squabbles when there was a more important goal. "Where next, T.Rex?" she asked above the chattering of the Fools.

Ryan swung around and pointed to the tan colored building closer to campus. "Next, we head to the control tower."

Rubble and Angel Hair dragged the tunnel cover back, sealing away their exit, as the rest of the group gathered up their equipment. The Fools jogged together across the barren airport grounds unopposed, reaching the tower in moments.

Just outside the squat building, they paused as T.Rex tried the rear entrance. It was locked, just like most of the doors they'd come across. It was not, however, as heavily secured. Frustrated, T.Rex jammed his crowbar into the door frame and wrenched it backwards, ripping apart the locking mechanism inside.

The door swung open, revealing an eerily quiet interior. Several cubicles defined the ground floor in front of the Fools, arrayed in a standard grid pattern. Identical computers graced each workspace, with a Xerox machine visible at the end of the hallway formed by the cubicle walls.

"I don't like this," Beard growled from the rear. "Plenty of crevices for zeds to hide in."

T.Rex scanned the walls, looking intently for access to the tower. "I'm not asking you to like it," he said over his shoulder, "but I am asking you guys to hold down the fort while I take a look around upstairs." He started to walk the perimeter of the room, neck craned as he searched for a way up.

"I think somebody should go with you," Rubble pointed out as the rest of the Fools slowly began to canvass the room.

T.Rex stopped, remembering his own rules about the buddy system. "Good point," he conceded. "Cowboy, you're with me," he said, waving his friend over.

Cowboy ran over as T.Rex found the elevator. T.Rex clicked the up button several times, but nothing happened. "Figures," T.Rex muttered. Together, T.Rex and Cowboy followed the edge of the room until they came across a nook in the back wall that contained the stairwell.

"We'll be back in just a few minutes," T.Rex shouted to the other Fools before easing the stairwell door open.

T.Rex leaned over the railing and saw that the staircase extended several flights upward before ending. He led the way up the stairs, in his head cursing the lack of power in the building as they passed the sixth floor. Finally, after ten flights, they entered the control room, slightly winded.

The control room featured a 360 degree view of the landscape around them. Rows of specialized computer terminals lined the walls, and a massive center console featured hundreds of switches and dials. The room was silent.

Cowboy turned to T.Rex. "You're a pilot, right?" he said. "Can you call for help on all of this stuff?"

T.Rex slumped his shoulders as he ran his fingers lightly over the dormant consoles. He thought back to his flight lessons and a wistful and nostalgic feeling washed over him. "I wish, man. Maybe if we had power I could sit down and figure some of this stuff out, but I'm used to tiny little airplane radio controls, not this massive center. And technically I never got my license."

"What if we found a plane?" Cowboy asked, rooting through a drawer of terminal charts.

Ryan searched his bag. "That's a tricky problem. A tiny Cessna or even a low wing Piper I'm pretty sure I could handle. But anything I had a chance at figuring out on such short notice would be far too small for the seven- no, eight of us. Then, at this airport specifically, the next smallest plane is a huge jet, and I have no experience with those things. I maybe could land one in an emergency, but that's probably pushing it.

"That's assuming, of course, we found a plane that didn't have a prop lock. Or a throttle lock. And we found fuel, and it was the right kind, and I could work out the weight balance, and there was a place we could go that had a clear place to land, and... and... well, there's a lot of stuff. Let's just say don't count on us flying into the sunset to safety, okay?"

Cowboy flicked a few dead switches on the wall nearby. "Weaksauce, man."

T.Rex found his binoculars in his pack and gingerly removed them from the case. He stood and began to survey the campus around him, soaking in a view most students could only dream of.

To the East, the sun was just beginning to clear over the far end of campus. A thin column of smoke rose in the distance, illuminated by the sun's rays. To the South, a large thicket of trees and construction preceded the Wabash River. To the West was the bulk of the airport runway, and it gently faded into fields of corn.

Adjusting the focus on the lens, T.Rex looked North and tried to concentrate on the very end of campus. He could see several buildings of Purdue Village, the housing district for married students. Around those houses were many zeds, including a few that were quite small.

Most likely little kids, he thought with a shudder. Poor little guys probably never had a chance.

Shifting his gaze slightly, T.Rex followed Airport Road past the Village and found McCutcheon Hall. He took a few steps to his left and just a bit of Hillenbrand Hall came into view. He frantically scanned his girlfriend's building, looking for any sort of sign of survivors or distress. Every window was covered with curtains or was dark, holding no answers. The sidewalks around Hillenbrand were empty, except for a single silhouette lurching aimlessly. The roof was emtpy.

What were you expecting? T.Rex mocked himself. That Jenny would be standing in one of the windows waving back? She's probably hiding in one of the rooms trying not to draw attention to herself. Now quit fucking around and go get her!

Placing the binoculars back in the case, T.Rex looked at Cowboy. "We're done here," he said with a steely gaze.

T.Rex and Cowboy quickly descended to the ground floor. Ryan shoved open the stairwell door and headed for the exit. Without breaking stride he called out to the Fools, "Recon complete, let's get going."

The improv team gathered outside the control tower, waiting for further instructions.

"Beard," T.Rex called out. "I want you up front now. Plot us a course to the Western edge of campus, just skirting the edge of the forest that holds the high ropes course, the one near the soccer fields. You know what I'm talking about?"

Beard just nodded.

"We follow that course to the Northern edge of Purdue West. We'll cut in, straight through the parking garages, and that'll put us right behind Hillenbrand. Got it?"

Beard nodded again and peeked around the corner of the control tower, surveying the airport buildings. He began looking for zeds and potential cover. The rest of the Fools geared up, ready to move at a moment's notice.

"Are you sure we should go into the woods?" Rubble whispered to T.Rex, sounding very unsure of the plans.

T.Rex shouldered his pack. "It's getting light out, and if we just make a mad dash for Hillenbrand, every zombie in Purdue Village is going to come after us. If we stay inside the trees, that will hopefully obscure our movement enough to make it to Jenny without alerting all those zeds."

I'm getting sick of all of these plans ending up someplace not Hillenbrand, T.Rex thought.

Current Word Count: 43,236

Chapter 30 - Silence

2008-07-27T16:56:00.005-04:00

June 14th, 2008
5:51am
Maintenance Tunnels

The Fools were once again attempting to navigate through the tunnels beneath Purdue's campus. Scribbled notes and maintenance orders left by a dying man gave them clues to some sort of exit.

"Are you sure we trust this guy's journal to lead us out of here?" Beard asked from the rear, as the group gathered outside of the maintenance room they'd found Marshall Franklin-turned-zed in.

T.Rex studied the diagrams of water mains and steam valves with a flashlight, aware that they did not have many more batteries. After several moments he turned the pages ninety degrees and suddenly things made much more sense. "If I'm reading this right- and I'd like to think that I am - these pipes converge in certain locations before being split to individual building utilities," he told the group. He traced the overlapping lines with his finger, trying to superimpose a mental map of Purdue's buildings above ground to match the facilities underground.

The Fools waited expectantly. Ryan looked up from the pages and saw six tired faces, and he wondered how much more they would have to endure before another break.

"Straight ahead, and stay quiet unless you notice something," he commanded, and the group set off again into the dark maze of tunnels.

Peace led the way with his flashlight, the other lights used up or turned off to conserve power. The group walked single file, pausing at each intersection. The group would wait as T.Rex studied the diagrams for a moment before pointing in some direction.

Straight. Left, straight, right left left.

They were walking along when all of the sudden the light at the front of the column spun, accompanied by a yelp as Peace tripped over an unknown object. The flashlight fell from his hands and rolled away, causing a frenetic light show on the wall of the tunnel.

"Somebody get another flashlight!" T.Rex hissed, and both Beard and Rubble responded with a beam of refreshing light pointed towards the front of the group.

Peace scrambled to his feet, backing away from the obstacle. As the flashlights played over the ground, the Fools saw a corpse laying in the middle of the tunnel, completely still. A dark liquid had spilled from multiple torso wounds and had collected on the ground some distance away

Beard wasted no time pondering the situation. "Cut off its head," he suggested.

For the briefest of moments, T.Rex considered objecting. He wanted to examine the body, to show respect for the dead, and encourage his friends to consider their actions before committing to desecrating another random body. Then he remembered the horrible creatures they'd already fought, all of which had previously been a lifeless body at some point before attacking.

He politely stepped aside as Kamikaze strode forward and crouched next to the body at arm's length. She swung her machete, decapitating the corpse unceremoniously. As they examined the body, it did not appear to have the now-familiar gray coloring of decaying zed flesh.

"Keep moving," T.Rex ordered, desperate to keep the minds of the group away from the grisly scene. He wanted them to focus on the task at hand - escaping the tunnels. The Fools returned to their line formation and pressed on, collecting Peace's flashlight at the bottom of the sloped tunnel.

Shallow left, straight, through a passage made of utility pipes that was so narrow, most of the Fools had to turn sideways and fit their bags of equipment through behind them. They continued on, ducking underneath another set of pipes a little further down the hallway.

"Are you sure this is the right way out of here?" Cowboy whispered to T.Rex.

T.Rex sighed. "No, I'm not. I'm just doing the best that I can."

Another right, and the tunnel they were in suddenly stopped. The Fools crowded around an unmarked door, looking expectantly at Ryan. "Somebody else wanna try this one?" T.Rex joked, reaching for the handle. He winced, turned the handle, and the door opened smoothly. T.Rex held the door and waved everyone by before stepping through himself.

They were now in a much larger tunnel that extended left and right until blackness took over, with linoleum flooring and tiles on the walls. The shape of the tunnel was a large gentle arch, and the flashlight revealed yellow lines painted on the floor. Looking back, the Fools saw the door they'd exited was marked "526 E - Authorized Personnel Only."

"What is this place?" Peace asked, his voice echoing around them.

"Keep your voice down," T.Rex reminded at a whisper. "If I've read this utility map right, it should take us to a safe exit point. A place where we can regroup and then head for Hillenbrand to get Jenny." He pointed down the tunnel. "We should have a long walk that way, so let's get a move on."

The group re-formed. Angel Hair and Rubble led the way more or less side by side, alternating responsibility for the flashlight. Following them was T.Rex, flanked by Cowboy on his left and Kamikaze on the right. Peace and Beard followed, glancing regularly over their shoulders to check for stragglers.

As they walked, their footsteps and equipment made loud echoes, and it made T.Rex nervous. He signaled for the Fools to pause, to make sure the echoes were not obscuring some other noise. The group froze, and the noise of their movement quickly faded. A slight moan drifted to their ears, and T.Rex motioned for the group to spread out in a defensive posture.

If the flashlights are on, T.Rex thought, that might draw them to us. But we sure as hell don't want to fight in complete darkness, and getting caught off guard by a zed in this confined space is gonna be mayhem. "Psst!" he hissed. "Flashlights, both ends - search pattern, go!"

Peace clicked on his flashlight at the back of the group and began sweeping the beam of light to the end of the tunnel, complementing Angel Hair's similar movements at the front end of the group. The rest of the Fools stood nervously, equipment on the ground and weapons at the ready. They all watched the beams of light play down the tunnel, scanning for any threat. After a few minutes, a slow growl reached them.

"That one sounds farther away," Kamikaze whispered, holding her machete tightly.

T.Rex did not want to leave the threat ignored, but was eager to continue. "Rear light out," he whispered, "and everybody grab your things. We continue on, but everybody keep your eyes and ears open. Watch for my signal - we'll stop at intervals to listen for trouble."

Continuing on, the Fools walked even further down the tunnel, pausing occasionally to listen. No other noise reached them. As they continued, T.Rex was estimating their distance in his head, anticipating their next obstacle.

Finally, T.Rex signaled for another hold. The group froze and assumed a defensive stance, but Ryan had other plans. "Alright, now we switch things up," he told the Fools. "I want every available flashlight to search the walls left and right - if my calculations are correct we should be very close to a door just like the one we got into this tunnel with. The tunnel lights are out, otherwise it would be very obvious." The Fools murmured agreement, and then continued on combing the walls with every remaining light.

They moved slower, meticulously covering every inch of the wall. Kamikaze's flashlight died, and T.Rex urged them to speed things up without compromising their thorough sweep.

Finally, Cowboy called out. "I see something! There's a door back here in a little nook!" He pointed his flashlight to the wall, excitedly, and the Fools crowded around. Hidden in a small recess was another large door marked "KLAF - Authorized Personnel Only."

"Yes!" T.Rex shouted, then looked around nervously, regretting his outburst. Then, in a quieter voice he said, "Guys- this is it. This is exactly what I was looking for." He whirled around and clapped Peace on the shoulders. "I need you to get us through that door. I'm not going to sugar coat this for you...we really need that door open."

"What if I can't get it?" Peace asked as he knelt down, digging through is pack for his lock picking equipment.

"Well," T.Rex sighed, "then I'll have to come up with some other brilliant solution, but I can pretty much promise you all it won't be nearly as good as this one. Fools! Let's set up a perimeter and let the man do his work, okay?"

Shuffling around, the Fools stood with weapons drawn, protecting the small doorway. Peace balanced a flashlight on the ground so that it pointed directly upwards, illuminating his target. T.Rex kept looking back nervously as Peace set to work, gently sliding the tiny tools into the lock and twisting.

Peace leaned closer to the lock and squinted, moving his hands very slowly and deliberately. His tongue slipped out of his pursed lips as he concentrated, and the very faint metallic clicking of his tools was the only sound in the entire tunnel.

"Yeah!" Peace suddenly shouted, standing up and pumping his fists in the air. "Ladies and gentleman, you may proceed," he said, as he bowed and gestured towards the door.

T.Rex turned and walked over to his friend. "Thank you, Peace. You've done a great job," he said as he opened the door. "Fools, if you would, please, join me on the other side of this door?"

The Fools, filled with excitement, moved their equipment into the small room on the other side of the door. The only feature of the room besides pipes were a series of metal rungs on the wall. Above the rungs, the only feature of the ceiling, was a metal disk with a few holes letting in a faint light.

"Rubble," T.Rex said with a grin, "do you think you could climb up there and move that cover?"

Angel Hair shut the door to the room as Rubble ascended the rungs about 15 feet into the air. He wrapped his left arm around one of the highest rungs and reached out with his right, pushing against the cover. It didn't move. Rubble grunted, teeth clenched as he pushed again, and T.Rex's smile faded.

Determined, Rubble stopped pushing for a moment and moved one rung higher, ducking to avoid hitting his head. He bent his legs to climb one more step and braced both of his hands on the rungs. He placed his shoulder against the cover and extended his legs, letting loose a primal grunt.

The cover gave way and popped upwards, while soft light spilled in and flooded the room full of Fools. "Time out!" T.Rex said in a quiet voice.

"Huzzah!" the Fools on the ground responded, softly enough as to not draw attention from above ground. Rubble slid the metal cover aside and motioned down at Angel Hair. "Time in," Rubble said softly.

Without another word spoken, Angel Hair scampered up the rungs with both pieces of Rubble's pool cue weapon. "I'll clear the area up here long enough for you guys to bring our equipment up," Rubble said down to the Fools below, and then climbed back into the world.

Current Word Count: 41,424

Author's Quandry

2008-07-24T23:26:00.009-04:00

The Brant "Rubble" Bell asked me yesterday if I was

A) Going to attempt NaNoWriMo 2008

and

B) If I would consider making it a sequel to my current story

I can honestly say I wasn't planning on doing the former, and had never considered the latter. That said, his question got me thinking.

For starters, I've learned a lot about writing by trying NNWM 07. Some of it mechanics, like punctuation during dialogue. Some of it is about how difficult it truly is to write 50k in 30 days, even if you love the source material. Things like pacing issues, typos, taking good notes on your own decisions - and more.

Still, I think I made it about halfway through my story by the end of November, and if I was to tackle it this year, I really have to consider my schedule (read: classes). I don't think I can do it. I don't know if I have the discipline, the crazy writing intensity to stick through another novel's worth of work...even if it takes another year to finish like this one.

I guess the only reason I'm making an issue of it is because I'm actually close to finishing this novel, and the ending would greatly greatly influence how the second one might play out - from the surviving characters to the level of devastation the zombies [may have] inflicted on the world. If I'm going to write a sequel, I need to start planning it now and alter the ending of this one accordingly.

After much deliberation, I told Rubble I would consider it. I'd need 2 things:

* A really good story idea. I need some sort of action, a problem, a quest - some driving force for the novel to exist. It seems obvious, but the current novel took shape over weeks of planning, and in the end there was a very poignant rescue story to tell, amidst the backdrop of the zombpocalypse. My theoretical sequel needs a similarly epic premise, and as of now I have none.

* Lots and lots of encouragement and readers. You guys have been awesome so far, helping me fix problems and providing lots of constructive criticism. Your enthusiasm has become mine, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate and enjoy it.

For now I'll keep thinking it over. If you have any thoughts, please [as always] leave 'em.

Thanks!

Chapter 29 - Blackout

2008-07-22T17:02:00.005-04:00

????
????
Location Unknown

Ryan drifted in and out of consciousness.

"Teeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Rehhhhhhhhhhcks..." he vaguely heard somebody calling his name. The syllables sounded like a church bell or perhaps a foghorn, played in slow motion. He tried to respond, but his body refused.

Ryan heard more conversation nearby, but it was garbled and he could only guess which mumbles went with which Fool. As he listened, it was fairly clear which belonged to Kamikaze, the only female of the group - the pitch was much different. T.Rex wondered how long he'd been out, and what might have happened since then. He realized he couldn't remember why he'd lost track of the world. It all reminded him of the time in high school he was in the hospital for surgery, and under heavy medication.

As time passed, T.Rex fought back a panic. What if I got bitten? What if this brain deterioration is part of the zedification process? What if I'm destined to eat - wait a second. If I was gonna end up a zombie, the Fools would've taken care of me by now, surely. Besides, he assured himself, a zed couldn't think of a word like "deterioration". His brain started to warm up and he took a few stabs at some mental math to convince himself no permanent damage was done.

Finally, after several tries, T.Rex's eyes fluttered open.

"Hey!" Peace said from Ryan's side. He yelled something else to the group, but T.Rex couldn't quite make it out.

As the world slowly came into focus, T.Rex blinked awkwardly. The room was mostly dark, except for a flashlight now aimed yet again at his face. The Fools all gathered around him, and T.Rex could see hope in their faces.

Angel Hair spoke to him, but all T.Rex heard was "Jabbajaabba head jabba dabba zed jabba jaabba?"

T.Rex moved his lips tenatively. "Talk...slow," he said with effort. He hoped the rest of his body would catch up to his brain, and fast.

"GLLLAAAD. YOUUU. ARRRR. BAAAACK," Angel Hair tried again.

T.Rex rolled his eyes. "Not loud-er. Head hurts. Think-ing slow."

They all nodded in acknowledgement. "Can you move?" Cowboy asked.

Gritting his teeth, T.Rex managed to move his hand slightly.

"You just wiggled your finger! That's wonderful!" Rubble said, excited.

"Quick heal-er," T.Rex grinned. "Tell me what ha-hap-pened." He was frustrated that he was thinking quite clearly, but the words weren't forming correctly. It was as if he'd just gotten back from the dentist, and his mouth was numb.

"The door hit you when you opened it," Beard explained. "A huge fat zed was leaning on the door and flew out at us. Kamikaze and Angel Hair immediately grabbed you and pulled you away to safety. Rubble dove out and grabbed the crowbar you dropped - he swung it around and caught the zed's ankle, causing it to trip right in front of the three of us." He pointed to Cowboy, Peace, and himself, the group previously stationed on the other side of the door.

Angel Hair chimed in: "You shoulda seen it! The zed face-planted, and Peace and Beard jumped onto it, kicked away the helmet and chopped its head off with their hatchets!" he punctuated his speech with hand motions, smacking his hands together to illustrate the zed falling and chopping motions for the combat.

T.Rex just smiled, and already felt a little better. "Sounds great- sorry I missed it. So where are we? How long was I out?"

"We took care of the zed and then dragged you back in here," Rubble said, spreading his arms out to indicate the room. "That is to say, the room we found with the zed in it. It's some sort of maintenance workroom, and we've found a few things you might like. You've been out for a few hours, and we didn't want to move you much because you were out. Plus it would've been a pain in the ass to carry and defend your lifeless body running around in dark tunnels."

With his strength returning, T.Rex nodded. "Thank you, guys. What did you find?"

Peace disappeared for a moment and returned with some crumpled papers, yawning. "The zed we found shut in here was a maintenance guy for Purdue, and he left a detailed journal. It's pretty disturbing. Here, lemme read you some highlights:"

Marshall Franklin, United States Army Corporal, 249th Battalion, Retired. June 6th, Third Shift.

I was asked to work a double shift tonight because one of the new guys called off again. I cannot stand the work ethic of this new generation, and I can only hope I can set a good example to follow. At any rate, we are still dealing with power outages across campus, and complete blackout areas are noted below. I've managed to re-route what little power we have left to the critical locations, as ordered by my supervisor. I'll be surprised if it lasts through the weekend at this rate.

One other item of note: while checking the master fuse box in section eight, I heard a strange noise at approximately 2:30am. I went to investigate, and confronted a transient hiding behind one of the dormant steam pipes. I lost track of him, but there was a scuffle. I was bitten once on my right hand, and treated myself with the medical kit at the supervisor's station. I will continue to monitor the power situation from the West Control Center.

T.Rex shook his head slowly. "Aww, c'mon. He gets bitten and then stays-"

Peace held up a finger as he scanned over the pages. "Wait, it gets worse. Here's another entry:"

Marshall Franklin, US Army, retired. June 7th, 10:15am.

Nobody reported in for the morning shift, but I'm not feeling well. I feel dizzy and constantly hungry. I've decided to nap in the break room instead of trying to drive myself home. I will check on things after I rest a bit.

Peace squinted in the limited light provided by the flashlight. "It gets harder to read, but then:"

M. Franklin, Army. J 8, 9pm.

Still sick. Haven't heard from the replacement shift, so I'll stay here overnight to keep an eye on things. Power outages all over.

"It goes on and on like that," Peace said. "The guy got bitten one night and stayed here, trying to keep things going and his journal basically records his transformation into a zed. My guess is either somebody locked him in here after he came back to life, or possibly he just locked himself in to protect others."

"What's the last entry?" T.Rex asked.

Peace flipped to the final page. "It just says:"

4. Hungry.

"What the hell does that mean? Like, 4am?" Ryan asked.

Peace shrugged. "No clue. It just says four."

"And we're sure it's him?"

"Bite marks match the description, and we found a positive ID in his wallet," Kamikaze said.

A grim silence hung in the air as T.Rex pondered the meaning of the document they'd recovered. "Somebody take some notes of the important details, and then store them separately from the journal in somebody else's pack. If we make it out of here, this is firsthand evidence that we need to protect if we can."

Ryan gritted his teeth and stood, fighting back a wave of pain and nausea. As the Fools listed to him the various items they'd found in the maintenance room, he felt a renewed sense of purpose.

"Everybody suit up, and get ready to move," T.Rex commanded.

"Are you sure you're okay to go?" Kamikaze asked. The rest of the Fools paused to look at T.Rex.

Ryan narrowed his gaze. "I'll be fine. Let's go rescue Jenny." Together they exited the maintenance room, back into the shadowy tunnels beneath campus...

Current Word Count: 39,539

Delays

2008-07-11T17:16:00.002-04:00

I'm going to be out of town for a week, so the next chapter may be a while.

Apologies

Author's Notes

2008-07-02T21:02:00.005-04:00

A few things of note to the reader:

1. New poll, on the right sidebar. Thanks for your votes and comments thus far.

2. My story is set in the real world, and, at the time I started it for NaNoWriMo, it was set in the future as well. As of Chapter 24, time has caught up and I'm more or less writing in the "past". I feel like this gives me less artistic creativity, because no I'm not longer completely "making up" people, places, and things. Some of you didn't notice and/or don't care, so if that's you, just keep doing your thing (reading and enjoying my story, hopefully). If you're a stickler for details, please know I'm aware, and have plotted out the story well beyond what I've written - those choices may not reflect reality as we know it today.

3. I've added a disclaimer to the intro, as well as edited a few dates, times, and the inventory list, but none of it will significanly alter what you've read so far.

Finally, I'm close to 40k! I'm closing in on my word count goal!

Chapter 28 - Labyrinth

2008-06-30T22:33:00.002-04:00

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

Chapter 27 - The Great Escape

2008-06-26T22:37:00.011-04:00

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

Chapter 26 - Battle Cry

2008-06-22T16:54:00.004-04:00

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

Chapter 25 - Keys to Victory

2008-06-20T22:32:00.011-04:00

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.

There was not much time, and T.Rex was not in the mood. He kicked the cabinet violently and heard jingling. Jamming the crowbar into the middle seam of the two doors, he wrenched the tool with a grunt.

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

Chapter 24 - Trapped

2008-06-15T01:49:00.004-04:00

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

Chapter 23 - Little Shop of Horrors

2008-06-03T20:25:00.007-04:00

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

Chapter 22 - Straggler

2008-06-01T15:15:00.005-04:00

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

Chapter 21 - Easy Company

2008-05-24T23:02:00.000-04:00

June 14th, 2008
12:04am
Apartment Parking Lot

Acting purely on instinct, Ryan whirled around with his fist curled.

Great, he thought as his weight shifted. One of Purdue's finest climbs from his tower of safety and doesn't even bother to have his weapon ready. I must've gotten distracted by the note and forgot to check the shadows for a lingering zed. Fantastic. His torso had spun and he was about to connect with what he felt was a pretty decent right hook, even if it was useless against a creature that didn't register pain. What an ignominious end. I didn't even make it past the front lawn, like I'm in a shitty Choose Your Own Adventure book. Sorry Jenny...so much for your knight in shining armor.

With little else to do but follow through, Ryan gritted his teeth and hoped for a solid hit. Instead, a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

Punch deflected, T.Rex looked up and saw one of the Fools clinging to the rope ladder. His wrists now free, he reached for a weapon in his pack. He'd learned his lesson and would not be caught off guard again.

"Beard!" Ryan hissed in the darkness. "What are you doing?"

"What are you doing?" he shot back.

"I have to go, okay? Take care of the others!" he whispered, turning away.

"Just come back for a minute, will ya? I want to talk about it!" Beard pleaded.

"It'll be easier if I just go now, okay? I don't want to drag this out. I have to go, now." T.Rex defiantly took a few steps away. Suddenly, a moan resonated from very close by and he leaped from the ground onto the lower portion of the ladder without pausing. "Orrrr we could talk for just a bit, how's that?" He scrambled up the ladder after his friend, still clutching his crowbar as his bravery and resolve started to fade.

Beard disappeared into the apartment as Ryan pulled the rope ladder up onto the balcony. T.Rex adjusted the straps on his backpack before gently easing the door open. "I'm only going to stay a few min-" he started, before dropping his words mid-sentence as he entered the apartment.

In the living room, Beard, Peace, Kamikaze, Cowboy, Angel Hair, and Rubble stood at attention, packs ready.

Ryan paused for several moments, speechless. He stared at the Fools, knowing that moments ago most of them were fast asleep. A few showed faint signs of fatigue, but none appeared hesitant or anything but resolute. He made eye contact with each one, and nobody moved or spoke.

Finally, T.Rex drew a heavy sigh and threw up his hands. "What I'm about to do," he began "is probably nothing short of crazy. I appreciate the show of support, but I don't expect any of you to follow me, and I think it's best if you all stayed here. I don't want any of you guys to get hurt, least of all because of some crazy rescue mission. I thought I had you guys fooled. Anyway, I'm going to go try and rescue Jenny."

There was a slight pause, before Kamikaze said softly, "We're with you, T.Rex."

Another pause. Ryan drew his heels together sharply and brought his hand to his brow, and smartly saluted the group. They returned the gesture.

"Alright," T.Rex said as the formation broke. "Let's make sure we leave redundant notes on the exits and table in case somebody finds this place while we're gone. Names, dates, and make sure it mentions a stop at Hillenbrand for Jenny before heading in a westerly direction. Also, let's make sure there's nothing we leave behind that's useful. However," he added "we have to carry all of this, so don't overload yourself."

The Fools scrambled around what had been their fortress and home for the past week, carrying out their instructions. Ryan rolled up his sleeping bag and stuffed his handwritten note into his pocket. No need for this sappy mess to be seen, he thought to himself. He also retrieved his rations and supplies from the cupboard when nobody was looking.

"Cellphone check," T.Rex called out. "On your person, separate from your packs, but powered OFF. I will not have our position given away by a vibrating phone." Each Fool confirmed. "Now, everybody head to the roof and get out your primary weapon. Beard, you do one last sweep and meet us up there."

They slowly filed into the back bedroom and helped each other climb onto the dresser, through the closet attic space, and into the musty attic. Even in the evening, it was incredibly warm, and the six of them carrying extra equipment and stooping to avoid the roof made things uncomfortable very quickly.

T.Rex suddenly felt very protective, and his mind was racing. "Avoid combat, always," he reminded them frantically, spewing out anything that came to mind. "Uh, cover up anything shiny or that might rattle. Stay quiet. Whisper, use hand signals like we do in practice. Don't go alone. Ditch your pack if you have to, nothing is worth getting tangled up with a zed. Uh, uh, aim for the skull. Keep an escape route."

With no more pearls of wisdom coming from his mind, he defaulted to reciting rules from the Zombie Survival Guide. "Rule 2, guys. They feel no fear, why should we? Rule 3 - Use your head: cut off theirs. Rule 4 - Blades don't need reloading. And definitely Rule 9 -"

Rubble, who had his own copy, finished. "No place is safe, only safer."

Angel Hair gently placed his hand on Ryan's shoulder. "Calm down, T.Rex. We've got it." Just then, Beard poked his head into the attic and clambered up to join them. He carried the rope ladder and carefully began fastening it to the floor.

"Just one more thing," Ryan said somberly to the group of Fools assembled before him. "I'm not looking for a Last Action Hero or anything. I just want to get my Jenny and get far, far away from this place, okay? If you find supplies or something, fine, grab them, but let's not get carried away with fighting or exploring anything we don't have to, right?" They nodded agreement as Beard flung the rope ladder out of the hole in the roof.

"Let's kick some ass!" Cowboy said, breaking the tension.

"Beard and Peace, you two go first and secure the landing zone. Give a pull on the rope when the coast is clear." T.Rex ordered, and the two of them grinned as they descended the ladder. A short while later, there was a tug, and Ryan ordered Kamikaze and Cowboy down next. Then Rubble and Angel Hair disappeared into the night.

He wasn't worried about the rope ladder - zombies couldn't climb. What he did worry about was what came next. There were over a dozen ways across campus to Hillenbrand, and the route he had in his head was a delicate trade off between the shortest path, the quietest, and the one with the fewest people pre-infection. While avoiding major roads. With sufficient cover to hide. Sounds like an engineering problem, he thought to himself. He could measure each distance, and then assign each route a coefficient of population...

Another tug at his feet snapped him back to reality. He gripped his crowbar tightly, determined not to repeat his earlier mistake. Grateful to have such supportive and caring friends, he vowed to do everything in his power to lead them decisively and effectively as long as it was necessary. As he started down the ladder, he reminded himself of something he always told Jenny: I'm an engineer, and I solve problems.

Current Word Count: 27,380

Summer Update

2008-05-19T04:51:00.000-04:00

Hello reader.

It's now summer break and I have a little bit more time on my hands. I'm gonna try to update my story more often - something like at least once a week. Stay tuned and please comment!

Also, new poll.

Thanks!

Chapter 20 - Departure

2008-05-19T01:57:00.001-04:00

June 13th, 2008
9:58am
Upstairs Headquarters

The normal morning routine had degraded over time. What had begun as a clockwork schedule was now a free for all, as each survivor slept as late as they dared. Ears plugged, they all traded vigilance for the peaceful embrace of sleep, trusting in the fragile security of their apartment fortress.

Ryan took full advantage of this fact as he laid still, eyes closed, on his bedroll. He had heard the third watch come back from the roof, and a few of the other Fools had awoken since then. He could feel the footsteps around him as his compatriots each started the day as they saw fit. Most would head to the kitchen for their allotted rations and water as breakfast, and the grim ritual that followed.

The Zed Check.

A few days into the siege, Beard and Ryan had attempted to make a reasonable assessment of the number of undead outside, at least those within view. If they didn't survive, at least their notes might. It was hard for them to shake a feeling of responsibility to science, even in the most dire circumstances. Besides, it was a way to make use of the morbid curiosity of the Fools as they glanced out the windows each day.

Peering through the blinds, they averaged the estimates of each Fool in the approximate area they could see out of each window, and then calculated how that number might apply across the campus, across the city, or even further. The Zed Count also included a listing of the dwindling daily rations and any other items of note.

T.Rex could hear Kamikaze counting under her breath just feet away, and it made it difficult to concentrate. He needed some time to think, as he'd made up his mind the night before to do a number of unpleasant things. And soon.

The others were undoubtedly living in fear for their friends and family, Ryan thought, laying still and pretending to be asleep. But at least they're far from here, where there's a rapidly decreasing chance they are safe from the onslaught. He could not help but think of his Jennifer, slightly more than a mile away, and yet separated by an entire campus filled with hundreds or thousands of terrifying creatures.

I had honestly hoped - no, counted on - that The Plan would have protected us, he thought to himself, keeping us alive long enough to be rescued. That by now we would've seen the police, a SWAT team, the National Guard, the entire US Armed forces, hell, even campus ROTC. And now, six long days later, we are still on our own. We're in a bad situation, and all it seems like we're doing is depleting our rations.

Ryan was resolute. I can no longer sit idly by and hope for the cavalry to come riding to save the day, trumpets blaring and guns blazing. If fiction is any guide, the military probably has no idea how to combat the threat before them, or worse, they're just sitting around with their thumbs up their asses. No, I can no longer wait. He was going to leave tonight to go rescue Jenny himself - if something hadn't happened to her already.

He allowed himself to be "woken" by an errant foot as the Fools went about their business. Though his mind was buzzing, a mental checklist of preparations flying through his brain, he pretended to be groggy and aloof as to not arouse suspicion of his impending departure.

Still, the group knew him well. Perhaps too well. He couldn't count how many shows and practices they'd been through together, a portion of every week of every semester he'd been with the group since joining in the spring of his Freshman year. Their club was drilled in reading body language and subtle changes of tone in order to act as a team on stage.

Ryan felt as though everyone could see right through him.

It was maddening. He needed time alone to complete his preparations, and yet he couldn't seem to find two seconds without running into somebody. One thousand square feet never felt so small. He tried to convince himself it was the tension of the circumstances that caused his paranoia.

Around dinnertime, T.Rex reached his breaking point. The heat, the same granola bar rations, and the constant pressure of the outside threat was too much this day. The Fools were taken aback as he suddenly snapped. He shouted, ordering them all out of the kitchen. They obeyed, reluctantly, and it pained Ryan immediately afterwards - both because they were his close friends, and because he would be leaving soon.

His pack was close by, like always. The privacy of the kitchen now secure, T.Rex somberly removed nearly all of his rations and placed them in an empty cupboard. With them he placed some of his backup supplies and equipment. He pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, and began to scribble a note:

Fools

By the time you will read this, I will be long gone. I have left under cover of darkness to go rescue Jennifer, and I have done so alone. I have left supplies and rations in the cupboard above the fridge. They will help you last a bit longer, especially with one less mouth to feed.

Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to follow me. I will bring my phone and attempt to contact you at regular intervals. Stick with The Emergency Zed Plan and the preparations we have managed for as long as you can, and then - only then - should you leave to find a new hiding place. Remember the survival guide and trust each other. I leave you under Beard's capable leadership.

Boiler Up,
T.Rex

Ryan placed the note in his pocket and checked his pack once more to be sure it contained the essential items. I sure do have my work cut out for me, he thought with a sigh. First, sneak out of the apartment in the night avoiding my best friends. Then, trek across a mile of dense campus filled with an unknown number of zombies. Once I get to Hillenbrand, break in and find Jenny. From there, we head West and attempt to find more supplies and a place to rest.

He knew it was foolish, and yet, that was never really a part of his plan. The group could last longer with one less person. Perhaps more importantly, he could not endanger their lives - it pained him to imagine one of them getting hurt (or worse) on his own rescue mission, which he considered first and foremost his own risk and responsibility.

Blinking away misty eyes, he went and apologized for his earlier outburst. He suggested that the Fools decided to blow off some steam with the remaining hours by playing some improv games, and Ryan tried to channel his emotion into his characters to better conceal it.

That night, the Fools turned in as usual. Angel Hair and Peace took the first watch, and T.Rex once again feigned sleep. It was his night off from watch, which fit his plan perfectly. He decided to wait until the second watch of Beard and Rubble to make his flight, because it seemed reasonable that those sleeping would be less likely to notice. There was no trouble staying awake, as adrenaline coursed through his body while he nervously awaited the change of watch.

Eventually the soft shuffle of feet on carpet alerted him to the change. He waited a few extra minutes to assure the two were on the roof before silently slipping from his bedroll. Fortunately, the earplugs the other Fools wore worked to his advantage. He stole a few dirty towels from the kitchen and stuffed them under his blanket. It wouldn't fool anybody for very long, so with a quick glance around at his friends he retrieved the rope ladder from the hallway.

Gathering up his survival pack, T.Rex gently unlocked and coaxed the door open, balancing the risk of an errant noise with the fear of a breeze or scent awakening somebody. Forcing himself to not look back, he shut the door and threw the rope ladder over the railing of the stairway balcony. He had one foot over the railing before he suddenly remembered the note still in his pocket.

I almost left without leaving the note, he chuckled to himself. Very quietly he climbed back up and crept in, setting the note under his pillow with a corner peeking out. He exited once more and descended the ladder.

He had one foot on the ground when a hand reached out from the darkness and grabbed his shoulder.

Current Word Count: 26,089

Chapter 19 - Breaking Point

2008-01-15T01:29:00.000-05:00

June 12th, 2008
1:10am
Neighbor's Roof

Ryan stomped his foot in frustration. "How did I miss that one?" he said aloud to nobody in particular.

"It's okay," Angel Hair tried to console him as he sat, nursing his injured ankle. "I didn't think of it either. But I did get a really great look around. The bad news, of course, is that there are zombies pretty much everywhere. he good news, though, is that I saw a light on in the back of Lilly, past the greenhouses."

"What, like they have power?" T.Rex fought back excitement.

"No, more like a flashlight, but I'm pretty sure it was another living person. I also saw a few other faint sources of light, but most were just flickers. One was from the roof of the Animal Sciences building."

Ryan felt a renewed sense of determination at the news that others might be surviving, and his thoughts turned momentarily to Jenny. He began to think of her, barricaded in her room at Hillenbrand. He shook his head and tried to focus on the task at hand - namely, finding a way back across to the apartment.

Angel Hair began to brainstorm aloud. "Well, we could try and jump back across, but the other roof is too high. The stairs are closer, but the railing is gonna get in the way if we jump. We could...we could call...somebody...on the phones we don't have. Oh, okay, let's just wait for the next shift! They'll get up around three, come looking for us to relieve us, and then when we aren't there, they will come looking for us?"

Ryan began surveying the distance between the two roofs. He started to untie the knots that kept the binocular cord anchored to the lid of the case. Once he had them untied, he gently began to work the cord out until there was a generous pile at his feet. He then began the same process for the cord around the binoculars themselves. "I think I have an idea," said T.Rex.

Angel Hair looked on as Ryan fashioned a rough lasso from the cord of the binoculars. "Even if the others wake up and realize we're gone, they're gonna have fun trying to get us back over," said T.Rex. "I sure as hell am not going to just sit here and be a victim. C'mon, we're engineers. We solve problems. Watch this."

Ryan gently tossed the binocular cord lasso across the gap between the two roofs. It sailed clear out to nowhere before falling to the ground. T.Rex hauled it back up for another try.

"What exactly are you going for, there?" asked Angel Hair.

"Tryin' to snag that gutter pipe," T.Rex said as he heaved the cord once more. This time the dark cord actually made it across the gap and smacked against the siding before falling to the ground. He very gingerly shuffled two steps closer to the edge of the roof before raising the lasso in his right arm. "I'm channeling Cowboy here with this one," he said as he began rotating his wrist to get the loop of cord spinning. Once more he launched the cord, and the spinning motion sent it flying into Angel Hair's lap.

"Heh, sorry about that. I make a better comedian than a rancher, I guess. Lemme keep trying," Ryan said.

Angel Hair kept rubbing his ankle and watching Ryan's attempt to lasso the pipe. "No worries."

Several awful throws later, Ryan finally managed to consistently hit the gutter with his lasso, gaining accuracy slowly. Finally, he tossed the cord with a beautiful arc, and it landed on the roof just above the gutter. Ryan tugged slightly on the cord and it scraped against the roof shingles before dropping over the edge and snaring the gutter.

"Yes!" both Angel Hair and T.Rex whispered together.

"Now, my plan is to pull the aluminum gutter out of its brackets. If I can do it just right, it'll fold about oh, let's say two-thirds down that sixth section - do you see it?" T.Rex said to Angel Hair.

Angel Hair counted softly. "One, two, three...yeah, I think I get it. That way it'll bend down from the roof, over the stairs to the apartment over there, and down to us over on this roof, right?"

T.Rex nodded. "That way we can shimmy up the gutter, across the gap, and to the stairway balcony. Do you think you can climb with your leg like that?"

"Oh, no problem." Angel Hair winced as he stood.

"My only worry is that gutter fold. I know our landlord never bothers to fix those gutters, so the brackets shouldn't be a problem. If the gutter bends in the wrong place, though, it could break."

"Well, check this out," Angel Hair said as he hobbled towards the chimney. He carefully moved to the backside and his upper torso disappeared into the branches. There was a snap, and he returned with a long thick branch. He maneuvered over to the edge of the roof and poked the stick into the gutter at the crucial spot, creasing it.

"Better?" Angel Hair asked, grinning.

"Quite," said T.Rex. "On three, I'll pull, you push the stick to make sure the gutter folds there." Angel Hair nodded.

"One...two...three!" T.Rex whispered as he pulled the cord taut. There was a metallic groan as the aluminum gutter resisted. The tip of the gutter began to shudder, and suddenly the first bracket gave way and popped loose. It fell to the ground, passing through the space where the stairs used to be. The gutter continued to whine as it was slowly folded lower.

As the second bracket popped loose, Ryan noticed a few of the creatures on the ground had begun to notice their efforts. Two of them shuffled closer, arms outstretched and hungry for food. He was tempted to pull harder, but didn't want to risk the cord breaking, or the gutter being damaged. The moan of the zombies below masked the groan of the gutter as the final bracket gave way. Finally free, the gutter slowly but steadily bent downwards and came within arm's reach of the roof T.Rex and Angel Hair were stranded on.

"Go, Angel Hair!" Ryan urged, as he pulled the gutter down to the shingles and held it steady. Angel Hair very tenderly grabbed onto the gutter and began to hoist himself up, wincing every time he put weight on his ankle.

"Just a few more feet, and you'll get to the railing!" T.Rex whispered in encouragement. Angel Hair reached the rail and clambered over, flopping down onto the wood, panting. Ignoring the increasing number of zombies gathering below the staircase, Ryan quickly pulled the binocular cord lasso from the gutter and stuffed it into his pocket before grabbing onto the gutter himself.

The gutter shifted wildly under the weight, and T.Rex found the smooth aluminum was much harder to climb with sweaty palms. He grabbed the gutter so hard at first it began to crinkle, so he shifted more effort to his thighs and struggled upwards. Angel Hair reached over the edge and grabbed T.Rex's wrist once he was in reach. Together, they both reached the stairwell.

T.Rex rose and very cautiously rapped on the door. There was an ominous pause.

"Shank?" came a muffled voice from the other side. It was a verbal challenge.

"n Shiv!" T.Rex hissed the correct response back. The sounds of a pair of locks could be heard before the door opened. Peace and Rubble stood at the door looking drowsy. Beard emerged silently from the shadows behind them, fully awake and gun drawn.

"What the hell is going on?" Beard growled.

Brant, having not noticed Beard until that moment, jumped back. "I thought you were asleep! Your shift isn't until later!"

"Yeah, well, Beard is part ninja," Peace said nonchalantly, as if this was perfectly normal behavior.

"Look, long story, let's just get inside," T.Rex urged. Angel Hair followed him back into the upstairs apartment and they locked the door back tightly. T.Rex debriefed Beard, Rubble, and Peace on the evening's events before heading back to the living room to lay down. Angel Hair was already fast asleep.

Just before drifting into a slumber, T.Rex decided that enough was enough. He made up his mind that he would be leaving soon.

Current Word Count: 24,267

Disclaimer

2007-12-01T02:59:00.000-05:00

Hey reader.

Please note that this story is rated R for violence, language, and other things. If this isn't your cup of tea, try some other blog.

Please also note that I'm posting my chapters chronologically. If you're new here, find the earlier posts on the right sidebar. If you're coming back to read the next chapter(s), you'll find them closer to the top of the page.

This post is dated for the last day of the month as a gentle reminder to me that time is ticking, and also to keep this post at the top of the page. Thanks.

Withdraw From the Race

2007-11-27T21:46:00.000-05:00

For those of you keeping track at home, in order for me to "win" NaNoWriMo by midnight this Friday I would need to write about 27,000 words in less than four days. That's about 7k per day which isn't gonna happen.

That said, I'm officially giving up on NaNoWriMo, because the pace is a little too crazy for me. I have two big things, notably spending time with my family and getting my academics on track that take precedence over trying to crank out a new chapter every evening.

My story, however, will continue. At irregular intervals I will post chapters as I see fit, ending on whatever word count I end up on when the story I have in mind is told. Thanks for your support, comments, and readership to this point.

Chapter 18 - One Way

2007-11-21T16:29:00.001-05:00

June 12th, 2008
12:02am
Upstairs Headquarters

T.Rex and Angel Hair headed towards the roof to start their night watch shift. As they climbed into the attic, Ryan tried to make sense of his spinning thoughts.

"So what was that all about?" Angel Hair asked. "You said something about Jenny and looked like you were having a bad dream."

"Quite the opposite," T.Rex said. "I dreamed that Benji drove here in his car. Except it wasn't his normal car, it was like a souped-up battle chariot, and he had a chainsaw and a shotgun. We slaughtered an entire crowd of zombies and rode out of town packed in like sardines. It was only after we were clear that I remembered Jenny, and then I woke up all confused."

Angel Hair pulled the tarp that covered the roof hole and took a deep breath of the cool nighttime air. "Sounds awful."

"I don't know what was worse, that we forgot my girlfriend or that I woke up in the first place," T.Rex admitted. Together the two Fools shared a pensive stare into the foliage behind the apartment, trying to see more than shadows. Normally, street lights, porch lights, and a host of electronics kept the night at bay. Tonight, just the moon shone dimly on the group of survivors and the horde of zombies infesting the campus.

The longer Ryan sat staring into the dark, the more he began to worry. The Fools had been trapped in their upstairs apartment for one day shy of one week, and there was no sign of help. Worse, signs of life seemed to be deteriorating around Purdue. Power had not been restored, phone service was degrading, and they hadn't seen any signs or sounds of normalcy in quite some time.

T.Rex grabbed his pack of equipment and rummaged through it until he found his binoculars. He silently motioned for Angel Hair follow quietly, and then indicated he was going to scout around with an exaggerated sweeping spyglass motion. Hanging them around his neck, he very gently climbed out of the hole cut in the roof and rested his body on the rough shingles, trusting in friction to hold him on the roof.

Together they army crawled to the peak of the roof. Ryan motioned silently to Angel Hair to remove his glasses before they continued, and once he did they peered very slowly over the top of the roof.

The sight they saw was much more frightening than peering out of a window. Hundreds of shambling creatures in various states of decay walked the streets uncontested. Their horrible groans and stutter step on the gravel weren't nearly as bad as the awful stench that corrupted the air. The same breeze that brought temporarily relief from the humidity also carried a putrid decomposing odor. Ryan's nose rankled as he glanced around. Apartments and trees blocked a good portion of the view.

"Here's the plan," he whispered to Angel Hair. "We need to get a better look of the neighborhood. I'm gonna shuffle to the edge of the roof and hop on that awning over there. After that, I should be able to climb on the neighbor's roof. Watch for me to cross and wait for my signal to follow."

Angel Hair nodded silently and tapped his temple with two fingers. Ryan very gently slid down a few feet, out of sight of the front side of the apartment, and worked his way to the edge of the roof.

Sure would be great if I had some sort of loud distraction, Ryan thought. Perhaps some fireworks. He very gently reached his short leg out to try and test the sturdiness of the overhang he would land on, but it was several feet out of reach. T.Rex gripped his binoculars, gritted his teeth, and launched himself from the roof.

He landed on the awning with little room to spare, and the resultant clatter seemed like a percussion feature in the relatively still night. Ryan quickly scrambled across and reached the neighboring roof, and began to climb. Fearing the noise had attracted the creatures nearby, he carefully maneuvered behind the chimney and paused to let his heart stop pounding.

Ryan brushed aside a nearby branch and held up his hand for Angel Hair to see. He splayed all his fingers to form the "Run Play Five" signal. Nodding, Angel Hair slowly worked his way to the edge of the roof and also took a leap. He cleared the gap, and Ryan very carefully extended his arm to help him up.

They climbed to the peak of the roof and very carefully stood up, legs planted apart for balance. Ryan gave Angel Hair the binoculars and leaned against the chimney. He cupped his hands and nodded upward, and very carefully he hoisted Angel Hair on top of the brick chimney. From there Angel Hair was able to reach up and grab a nearby branch.

He climbed slowly up into an enormous tree that hugged the building. The branches thinned at the top and so did the leaves, which gave Angel Hair a massive view of the surrounding area. Carefully wedging his skinny body between two branches and removed the binoculars. He peered down the entirety of Harrison street to the west, South Grant street to the south, to the Wood street parking garage to the north, and to South Chauncey Avenue to the east.

Ryan held onto the chimney for support as he craned his neck upward, trying to see his partner through the foliage and darkness. Several uncomfortable minutes passed in relative silence. He shook a nearby branch three times to get Angel Hair's attention.

"Status report?" Ryan whispered, trying to project his voice above him.

"I've got a really great view," came a muffled reply. "I want to stay up here for a bit and really study things, confirm?"

"Confirmed. Shake three times when you're coming back down." Ryan carefully sat down behind the chimney and waited, shifting uncomfortably every few minutes. Attempting to distract himself, T.Rex silently rhymed names in his head for Do Run Run.

Finally, there was a distinct trio of leafy rustles and Ryan stood up. Angel Hair carefully descended from the branches and back onto the chimney before looking down, nervously.

"C'mon," T.Rex urged.

"I don't think I can," Angel Hair admitted. "It was tall enough that I needed a boost up, and when I jump I'm gonna land on either angle, break my leg, and roll off onto the ground. And then I'll be crippled and zombie bait."

Ryan held out his arms and curled his fingers in a supportive posture. "C'mon, and I promise I won't let you fall. Toss me my binoculars, first."

Angel Hair lowered the binoculars by the strap and then very tenderly slid his body from the top of the chimney. Still holding onto the rim with his arms with a death grip, he flopped over until he was dangling. Ryan grabbed Angel Hair's pant legs just as he fell, and when he hit the rooftop his right foot rolled inward.

There was a very stifled yelp as Angel Hair's ankle folded awkwardly, but T.Rex hang on and kept him from going over the edge.

"Oh damnit," Ryan said quietly.

"It's fine, I think I just twisted my ankle," said Angel Hair.

T.Rex paused. "No, not that. I mean, props for staying quiet and I'm glad you're okay, but I just realized something."

"What?" Angel Hair said nervously.

"We jumped down onto this roof," Ryan said. "I wonder how we're gonna get back across to the upstairs apartment..."

Current Word Count: 23,226

Chapter 17 - Head Games

2007-11-20T05:21:00.002-05:00

June 10th, 2008
2:36pm
Apartment Parking Lot

Every zombie in the immediate area was trying desperately to get to Benji. The Fools took full advantage of the distraction and immediately began attacking the closest zombies which had their backs to the group.

The first kill by a Fool went to Beard. He ran forward and buried his hatchet in the skull of the first zombie before wrestling it free and attacking again and again. Directly to his right was Peace who wasted no time with own hatchet, covering Beard's flank. They worked in tandem and very quickly had created a salient into the horde of living dead.

Angel Hair and Rubble formed a similar duo, each wielding a pool cue. Rubble swung his with enough momentum that the thicker end would crack into the enemy skull and drop the foe to the ground. Angel Hair preferred to use the sharpened end of his as a spear, deftly stabbing into select eye sockets between Rubble's attacks to kill those that stumbled too close.

Cowboy went crazy with his bat like a kid in a candy store, wildly smashing any skull within arm's reach. Kamikaze was a bit more select with her machete attacks, carefully lopping off heads and only occasionally grinning like she enjoyed it.

T.Rex hung back with his crowbar, attempting to observe the others in action. He wanted to make sure that he had a good grasp of the Fools in combat for future encounters, if it came to that. He also made sure that nobody needed help or got flanked in a moment of concentration. He earned his first kill when a straggler came from around the side of the neighbor's house. He bobbed well away from the creature's outstretched arm, sidestepped, and brought the curved end of his crowbar down with all of his might onto the zombie's skull. It gave way with a crunch of bone and Ryan couldn't help but grin at the massive offense the group had displayed, including the dead zombie at his feet.

He turned and began to work his way closer to the center of the group, killing enemies that stood between himself and Valerie. Benji, in the meanwhile, had jumped into the fray and was carving a brutal swath of destruction with his chainsaw. He carved through undead flesh like a hot knife through butter, messily decapitating and amputating with medical precision.

"If they knew how to retreat," Ryan shouted over the roar of the saw, "do you think they would have given up by now?"

Benji brought the rotating blades onto a zombie skull, the spray coating Valerie's passenger door with more zombie slurry. "If they knew what was good for them, perhaps!" Benji shouted back. "So what happened to your arm? If it was a bite, Beard would've taken care of you by now, I'm assuming." Benji conversed with ease as he continued to slice and dice creatures in ever-widening arcs around his car.

Ryan grunted as he struck another skull with his crowbar, noting that after nearly a dozen skulls his attacks seemed more fluid and natural. "Oh, just some glass. Nothing to worry about." The wall of zombies separating the Fools from Benji was rapidly dwindling, even if the creatures could not make a sound tactical decision to save their lives.

T.Rex quickly scanned the area and saw the Fools in pairs and individually mopping up patches of zombies in the parking lot. "Hey guys," he shouted to them, "let's start closing in and get the hell out of here!"

On his command the Fools took a careful retreat, and T.Rex was happy to note most of them didn't just break and run, but instead surveyed the situation and then decided. As they returned, Ryan took the shotgun from Benji's back and removed the spent shells. "Left pocket," Benji said as he planted his feet and dispatched another zombie.

T.Rex reached into Benji's bulging front pocket and extracted two fresh shotgun shells and loaded the weapon before replacing it in the holster. The rest of the Fools reached Valerie safely and formed a loose protective semicircle around the passenger side. Beard subtly looked over each Fool for injuries, including accidental bites or scratches.

Benji instructed all the Fools to stow their gear in Val's trunk as he provided cover. He glared menacingly at the few zombies that had come to investigate the noise and his posture dared them to shuffle over to meet their doom. The chainsaw suddenly sputtered violently and then died, and Benji tossed it aside with a shrug.

"You're just going to leave that?" Cowboy said.

Benji replied calmly, "Dead weight, no fuel."

"Wait, are we all supposed to fit in here?" Angel Hair asked.

"Pretend it's a Yaris," Kamikaze said as she climbed into the back seat. She was referencing an earlier outing the year before, where they all attempted to fit into SoG's car

The rest of the Fools stuffed into Valerie any way they could, piling uncomfortably next to and on top of each other. Instead of complaining, they made it into a bizarre game of twister involving all three rear seat belts. Benji and Ryan waited for the other six to pile in before taking the driver and passenger's seat, respectively. Valerie roared to life with the turn of the key and Benji sat there, patiently for a few moments.

There was awkward silence before Beard, muffled under at least three limbs and an armpit said, "I don't mean to be rude, but can we get going already?"

Benji held up five fingers and silently ticked them away to an unknown timer. When the last of his fingers joined his fist, the Fools heard a massive amount of noise behind them. Only three Fools could actually turn behind to see a massive display of fireworks erupt from a dumpster behind Krannert Hall.

"What the...?" Peace trailed off.

"It's a distraction," Benji explained. "The sound and lights will draw zombies that way," he pointed backwards. "While we drive that way," and pointed foward. "On that note, make rockets go now!" he said as he floored the accelerator, and Valerie peeled out of the apartment parking lot, spraying three determined zombies with gravel.

As they drove, they saw Purdue as a disaster zone. Buildings were looted, broken glass and trash lay strewn about and the once vibrant campus was reduced to a shell of its former self. Students were horrible gruesome creatures, and the red brick buildings were dark. The power plant, in the distance, was on fire.

Benji did his best to navigate his way out of Lafayette, avoiding all but the smallest of backroads. Twice they had to find an alternate route around a road clogged with hundreds of wrecked cars, but the ad-hoc armor plating welded onto the car gave them protection from most of the stray zombies they met on the roadways.

Once they had cleared the city limits, they pulled over into an abandoned field of short grass and unpacked the Fools from the rear for a stretch and better ventilation. Benji put on some Beach Boys music to calm their shaking nerves, and Ryan nearly wept at the sweet sounds of technology. It was only once they were away from Purdue that Ryan noticed he was visibly shaking. His bandaged arm felt sore, and he started to get light headed.

Benji, a certified nurse, took notice right away and gently guided Ryan to the car and had him sit in the passenger seat slightly reclined. T.Rex sipped from his water bottle and rested as the other Fools stretched. A few minutes later a low moan was heard on the wind, and Benji motioned the others to cram back into his Pontiac. As they drove along the back roads into the setting sun, Ryan felt very weak. The air conditioner seemed to be only capable of delivering humid air, but he trusted Benji to deliver them to safety as he rested his eyes and slumped against the seatbelt.

---

"Ryan!" Kamikaze said as she shook his shoulder.

"We have to go get Jenny!" T.Rex shouted into the darkness.

"Shhh! Be quiet, or you'll wake the others. It's midnight, and your turn for watch, okay?"

Ryan woke up on a sleeping bag, confused. He looked around and saw the dark apartment as Angel Hair waited for him in the hallway. To his right was Peace, sleeping soundly, and to his left lay his own pack of equipment, untouched.

Current Word Count: 21,949

Chapter 16 - Impossible Odds

2007-11-20T01:43:00.001-05:00

June 10th, 2008
2:17pm
Upstairs Headquarters

Time passed slowly for the besieged Fools. All of the male Fools (save Beard) had grown noticeable stubble on their chins, and knowledge of the growing threat outside left all of them tense. The constant moans grew louder each day, causing sleepless nights and restless days. There was little to do but sit and wait, hoping for some sort of help from the outside. They watched helplessly as time stole their rations away, moving from three full garbage bags to two.

Everything became a source of conflict. Plumbing had shut down the night before, and the inconvenience only exacerbated the irritability of the group. Five people sleeping in the crowded living room seemed like four too many, and the heat and humidity turned misunderstanding into bickering. The walls seemed to close in, and what little entertainment they had at hand was quickly exhausted.

T.Rex tried desperately to stick to a schedule. He encouraged everybody to sleep later to avoid the monotony of being awake. With rationing, breakfast, lunch, and dinner became little more than snack times at regular intervals. Even improv, for all its variability, began to wear thin. The group seemed to go through the motions of each game, but creativity was fading fast.

The number of zombies outside continued to increase each passing day.

---

It was Wednesday afternoon when the Fools first heard sounds outside other than the horrible moans of the living dead.

It started as a faint hum in the distance. "Did you hear something?" asked Angel Hair.

"It's just your imagination, kid," said T.Rex, wearily.

"No no, I think I heard it too. It's getting louder, I think," said Kamikaze. She went to the window and began peering through the blinds. Moments later a loud thud was heard, and Peace came running into the living room from the hallway, screaming.

"Guys! Guys! I was on the roof and I saw something! Look out the window right now!" he said as he yanked the cord for the blinds downward, flooding the room with bright sunlight. The Fools gathered around and watched in amazement as zombies at the end of the road began to violently flop aside as a hunter green object slowly but surely plowed through the crowd of living dead.

The sound grew into a beastly engine roar as the object continued to push towards the apartment parking lot. As the zombies were shoved aside, it became clear that it was a vehicle making its way forward. A Pontiac Bonneville.

"Anybody else think that might be Val?" Beard asked, hesitantly.

"I sure fucking hope so!" said Ryan.

"Who's Val?" Rubble asked.

Kamikaze said "I wonder how he got through all of this."

"Wait, Val is a he?" Rubble said.

"Guys! Everybody grab your packs and get ready to move, now." T.Rex commanded.

"Will somebody tell me who this 'Val' person is?" Rubble begged, pulling his backpack on. The rest of the Fools wasted no time quickly gathering their packs.

"Not who, but what," Ryan said as he double checked the ammunition in his rifle. "Valerie Rose is Benji's car."

Loaded with their equipment, the Fools gathered once more at the window and watched in eager anticipation. Valerie, still revving her engine as she pushed through the thickening crowd, was covered in scrap metal that had been welded on at lethal angles. Several dents and scratches covered the vehicle from numerous creatures that had been struck, and blood marred the dark paint.

The Fools exploded in cheers as Valerie slowed to a stop outside of the apartment. Forcing the door open with a mighty kick, Benji emerged from the driver's seat carrying a chainsaw, with a gun strapped across his back. He fought his way onto the roof of Valerie, caving in a zombie skull with his boot in the process. Standing tall atop the vehicle, he looked around at the masses of living dead now drawn to his position and grinned.

A single zombie managed to climb atop the hood of the car and it shuffled for him. Benji reached behind him and in one fluid motion pulled a shotgun from his back holster, held it straight out, and blew the zombie's head clean off.

Nobody, zombie or otherwise, had heard such a thunderous sound in over a week. The Fools waited in nervous anticipation. As the zombies converged on Valerie, Benji calmly blew the smoke from the barrel of the shotgun and shouted:

"Alright, you primitive screw-heads, listen up! See this?" he held the gun aloft over his head. "This... is my boom boom stick! It's a twelve-gauge, double-barreled Remington, Kieslers' top of the line. You can find this in the sporting department. That's right, this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It retails for about $109.95. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel, and a hair trigger. You got that? Now, I swear, the next one of you primates even touches me-"

Just then, a zombie managed to grasp hold of Benji's ankle and struggled to pull him into the mass of waiting hands and mouths below. Benji lowered the barrel of the shotgun and fired a round into the crowd below, obliterating the closest four zombie skulls outright, and knocking a few others back. He re-holstered the shotgun to his back and reached over with his free hand to grab the starter for the chainsaw. With a mighty draw the chainsaw roared to life.

The Fools burst from the upstairs apartment door. Renee lowered her rope ladder and went first and the rest of the Fools followed her. As they reached the ground they all removed their weapons and prepared to fight their way to Valerie.

"Now," Benji yelled over the moaning and machinery. "Let's talk about how we get you Fools back home!"

Current Word Count: 20,542

Chapter 15 - Intruder

2007-11-19T23:16:00.001-05:00

June 8th, 2008
8:57am
Upstairs Headquarters

T.Rex grabbed Angel Hair's arm and sprinted into the living room. He saw Beard and Kamikaze sitting up and looking around sans earplugs. The others were sound asleep.

"Everybody stay quiet," he hissed.

There was silence as everybody awake strained to hear. There was one moan slightly louder than the rest that seemed to emanate from below, followed by a few irregular thumps.

"I think one got in downstairs," Beard whispered, and Kamikaze nodded in agreement. Brant snored loudly and everybody instinctively froze. Once they realized there was no threat, they relaxed. After a few minutes the noises went away, and together with Kamikaze and Beard, the last night watch pair woke the rest of the Fools and told them of the noises.

"I think the apartment below us may no longer be secure," T.Rex warned them. "Anyway, everybody get some breakfast and then pick up where you left off yesterday."

The group did just that. The backpacks were loaded with supplies and tagged for each Fool and carefully set by their respective sleeping areas. Ryan had Angel Hair, Rubble, and Kamikaze fix up some lunch while he went to check on the attic hatch.

T.Rex walked down the hallway to the back left bedroom. He heard some muffled laughter, and as he turned the corner he saw a bright beam of light illuminating the closet.

"Hey guys, progress report?" T.Rex shouted up. There were two distinctive thumps as Peace and Cowboy entered the attic via the roof.

Beard poked his head into the closet from the attic hatch. "Hey T.Rex. We were just about to come tell you the good news. We managed to get through the last of the studs a few minutes ago, and had spent a few minutes sweeping away the sawdust and insulation. C'mon up here and have a look around!"

T.Rex took the invitation to join them and scampered up the side of the dresser, grabbed the lip of the attic hatch and hoisted himself up slowly. Beard grabbed his shirt and pulled until he was through. Dusting himself off, he saw the pile of debris in the back of the attic. Nearby was the blinding beam of light from a roughly square hole cut in the slanted roof, starting a few inches from the floor and extending about three feet upwards.

"The way I figured it, we can sit in the actual attic and look outside," Beard pointed out. "This gives us decent visibility out of the backside of the house, but more importantly keeps us almost entirely hidden. And we don't have to worry about falling off, since it's level inside. The view is partially obscured by trees and another building, but you can see through it to Marsteller St.

"If we need to bolt, this side of the house and the trees will hide us for a bit before we break out into the open. It's possible to climb out of the hole and get up onto the roof, but even if you lay flat, you really risk being seen. Still, you get visibility over the whole complex this way, and it'd be better for signaling. I think it's possible to jump the awning over there to your neighbor's house, by the way."

T.Rex beamed. "Great job, guys. This will work quite well. How do you plan on keeping the rain out?"

"I honestly think we could just put some buckets down and collect rainwater, if it came to that. I mean, we aren't really worried about some soggy attic boards when we just destroyed part of the roof, right?" Peace asked.

"Well, keep a tarp up here just in case," T.Rex conceded. "Oh, and some nails and a hammer. For now, let's all grab some lunch."

The group raided the garbage bags of nonperishable food for sustenance, each Fool choosing a pair of items that appealed to them. As the meal wound down, T.Rex addressed the group once more.

"Alright Fools, the good news is that the bulk of the tasks to be done around here are finished. The bad news is that that means we've got not much else to do but sit around and wait patiently. We'll still have three meals, but starting tomorrow we're gonna start rationing a bit tighter with the food. This evening we're also gonna talk about some basic combat stuff, but in the meanwhile, I want everybody to oval up."

"Improv?" Cowboy asked. "Now?"

"Bingo. I want everybody to ovulate for warmups. It'll be good to have a break and have some fun for a bit," T.Rex explained.

With no time restrictions, the group made their way through the typical exercises. They started with a mashup of Bippity Bippity Bop, Do You Like Your Neighbors, and What Are You Doing.

The Fools ran through some of the basic games of their repertoire, starting with Chain Murder Mystery. Next came The Clap, Blind Date, 60 Second Alphabet, Deaf Interpreter, Space Jump, Swinging Pendulum, and then Word Rations. They took a short break and discussed some of the better scenes and jokes, and how to improve them. Continuing on, they played Moving People, Three Things, Do Run Run, Good Bad Worst Advice, and finally closed with 185.

After the final "and scene" was called, the group gathered in the living room to hear Ryan speak, as was quickly becoming the routine.

Ryan cleared his throat and began: "Fools, today I want you all to gather your personal survival packs that have been prepared and open them. I want you to pull everything out inspect it, study it, and become familiar with it. And then I want you to think about how each one can be used to its fullest potential. And then I want you to re-pack it all, and know where everything is, how it fits in there, and how to do it all over again. Go to it."

The Fools were eager to oblige, and they each found their packs near their sleeping areas and began to disassemble. Some of the Fools began to swap food items out of taste preference before Ryan noticed.

"Hey!" Ryan shouted. "I want everybody to swap back to how their food was. Beard and I have divided those up specifically for the best balance of weight and nutrition as possible, so unless it's a cherry Pop-Tart for a strawberry one, keep the stuff how it was."

The mood was slightly subdued as the group continued to explore their packs, but the excitement quickly resumed as they discovered the variety and complexity of equipment presented to them to manage.

As they finished re-packing, Ryan signaled Beard. He stood up and addressed the Fools. "Hey everybody, listen up. T.Rex has asked me to go over some general zombie combat with you all. So here we go.

"First, if you can avoid combat with a zombie, do so. It's dangerous, and it's incredibly risky. They've got nothing to lose, and no sense of danger, mercy, or hesitation. All they want is your brains, and they will do anything they can to get it, and that means they shrug off wounds that would stop you all. In addition, the longer you stop and fight one zombie, the more the moans and sounds of battle draw others to your location. So: moral of the story - run and live to fight another day.

"That said, if you have to fight, obviously, use whatever you can to put distance between you. Avoid fighting with your hands or in close corners - find a stick or chair or anything to keep away. Always look around to keep from running into a dead end or more zombies. Ryan already mentioned that if somebody gets bitten, there's no hope, so take them the hell out.

"Now, the only way to stop a zombie is to destroy its brain. You can cut off both legs and the vicious bastard is still gone try to crawl for ya. Cut off both arms and it won't flinch, just stumble single-mindedly for ya. Cutting off its head is okay, but it can still bite and infect you, so stay away from body parts. If you shoot, aim for the temple, between the eyes, or some kind of head shot. You can riddle the body with holes and it won't do any good unless the brain is stopped."

Brant raised a hand. "Uh, with all due respect, don't we know all this already?"

"Just making sure," said T.Rex. "Continue."

"Right," Beard said. "Like I said, shoot for the head, or smash its skull with something. That's the way to stop them. If you don't have a weapon and can't run, I would suggest kicking it away. Don't try and grapple with it."

Ryan stood. "Okay, I'm going to quickly review all the weapons, so that everybody else is on the same page. Everybody has two weapons, in case of emergency or breakage. I've got the hunting rifle and one of the crowbars, to start.

"Beard has one hatchet and the only other gun, and that's his pistol. Peace has the other hatchet and ski poles. Rubble has his bow and one pair of pool cues, Angel Hair has the other pool cues and the other crowbar. Cowboy, you've got the baseball bat and the biggest kitchen knife. Lastly, Kamikaze gets the machete and that nifty two by four.

"Alrighty, looks like it's about bedtime, so everybody pack up. We've got maybe an hour before sunset, I'm guessing, so you've all got free time until then. Oh, and by the way, I want each pair of night teams to spend a few minutes up in the attic surveying outside. Don't go on the roof unless you absolutely have to, and even then make sure anything reflective is covered and anything dangly is silenced. Basically, if you hear or see anything strange, come get me or Beard."

As the Fools milled around a bit before turning in, Ryan pulled Beard to the side.

"How are the phones?" T.Rex whispered.

"Not good," Beard replied. "All of the Verizon phones are no longer getting any signal, and I haven't heard anything on any of the other ones. I think we should make sure the group stays busy to avoid the bad news."

Current Word Count: 19,566

Chapter 14 - Reflections

2007-11-16T02:22:00.002-05:00

June 7th, 2008
7:33pm
Upstairs Headquarters

Light quickly faded in the warm summer evening, and it was nowhere more evident than in the attic, as Cowboy, Peace, and Beard struggled with a way through the roof using flashlights and the tools at hand. They worked until they were nearly exhausted, and, upon seeing their progress and the toll it took on them, T.Rex authorized showers for everyone as long as the water held. Those waiting fixed themselves a hearty dinner of peanut butter sandwiches and granola bars.

Leaving the piles of individual equipment half sorted, they cleaned up and settled in for another hot and nervous night of rest. Ryan insisted that they all stay busy not only to complete important jobs and keep them from getting stir-crazy, but perhaps more importantly to distract them from constantly looking out the windows.

Unfortunately, as they turned in for the evening, the silence of the still apartment quickly gave way to the moans of the living dead outside. Earlier, Brant had found a box of earplugs nestled in the case of the rifle, and that gave everybody not on night watch a bit of respite from the horrible sounds. The windows, kept shut to muffle noise both coming in and going out, kept the heat trapped in as well, unfortunately. They had to cope as best as they could, and eventually they all drifted into uncomfortable sleep.

Ryan had always been a voracious dreamer, and the possible destruction of the world did nothing to quell that. Between the heat, the uncomfortable earplugs, the moans that still got through, and his aching muscles, he tossed and turned throughout the evening. Nightmares were creeping in as Cowboy and Kamikaze woke him and Angel Hair for the 3am-6am night watch shift.

T.Rex rose slowly. He started shaking his right arm vigorously and drew a quizzical look from Angel Hair. He silently mimed falling asleep on top of his tingling arm, and Angel Hair gave a silent "Ahhh", tapping his temple in recognition. They crept to the back bedroom and stood vigil over the apartment.

Ryan and Angel Hair peered through the blinds and gasped in unison. Outside, the number of zombies had increased dramatically, their eyes glowing ever-so-faintly in the darkness. Their shadowy figures stumbled around clumsily in the darkness, occasionally bumping into each other or an object without care. In the distance, a shrill scream could be heard, as a woman took what was most likely her last human breath.

Angel Hair sat quietly, contemplating. With no real light and the need to keep alert for strange sights and sounds, they more or less stared at the gaps in the blinds for a while. Ryan retreated inward, tuning out his self-doubt over leadership and instead took his girlfriend's frequent advice to think positive and be more optimistic. He thought about what a diverse and skilled group of loyal friends he was fortunate to collect.

Kamikaze. Renee was an incredibly sweet and thoughtful person, and the only girl in the current group of survivors. Come to think of it, she was now the "token female" now that Sweet Speak had graduated. Renee was a hard worker, and was always thinking of ways to improve their situation. She never complained about assignments, and didn't hesitate to ask for help. She'd grown up on a farm and wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty. She was studying psychology after switching from engineering, so she thought with both halves of brain quite handily. One of her favorite pastimes was questioning people in different ways, just to see how they reacted or what they were comfortable admitting. It made conversation interesting, to say the least. She had recently shaved off most of her long, distinctive ponytail, but kept her weathered blue NASA hat. Renee was one of the tallest Fools, and nearly always wore a long denim skirt.

Peace. Andrew was a spastic and excitable fellow, but intensely inquisitive and dedicated on top of that. He has large eyes and always spoke with his hands. Often, he wore his glasses and hat with a stylish flair. He was an Eagle Scout, a chemist, and spoke multiple languages - but considered himself a writer first and foremost. He had questionable taste in music, but they shared a love of webcomics, Star Wars, and many other things to compensate. Just thinking of Peace incited a game loss. Ryan considered Peace his closest friend in the improv group currently, and was doing his best to groom him as a future leader of the troupe.

Beard. Eric was a manly and fierce looking character, but anybody who spent time with him knew he was a fair and incredibly reasonable person. The thing with Beard was, he'd give you a ton of chances to atone, but once you crossed the line, you were a goner. Ryan chalked that up to his Quaker beliefs and his Eagle Scout code. He also was trained in martial arts and a biologist. Peace and Beard were best friends since high school, and though they bickered like a married couple, they had a strong friendship that was not easily strained. Other than Beard's distinctive facial hair, both Andrew and Eric were similar in size, average height and weight with brown hair.

Cowboy. John was probably the most "normal" of the Fools, and not in a bad way. He was high octane, loud, and brash, but more sensitive than most people knew. Like Ryan, he loved to play Guitar Hero and watch football (as well as other sports). He usually wore his treasured blue Indianapolis Colts hat to practice. John had a large toothy grin and often amused himself with the antics of the other Fools, usually with Beard in the back of the room. He was fit and active, and was a management major. That kept him plenty busy, but he still found time to be in a business fraternity and to volunteer to be a Big Brother. He had a temper that flared up from time to time, but he worked hard to direct that into productive energy.

Angel Hair. Steve was a wiry chap with long, flowing locks and a comically large nose. He took it in stride, however, like everything else in life. He was the other newest Fool, and Ryan constantly strove to know them both better. He was a vegetarian, which currently did not conflict with the current menu of pre-packaged foods. His treasured leather jacket seemed to fly in the face of this belief, but he insisted it was "grandfathered in." He was a dual major, chemical engineering and theatre major, which gave him a dual personality similar to Renee. Rumor had it that he was something of a pickpocket as well, though that wouldn't do much against the living dead.

Rubble. Brant was a large jolly friend with a penchant for vests and fedoras. He was one of the two newest Fools, so Ryan didn't know him as well as he'd like to - yet. His major was medieval studies, which meant Brant had all sorts of useful skills like archery, fencing, and other weapons training. He had plenty of nerdy hobbies like reenactment societies and D&D, but that only endeared him to the group more. The first year of improv was a large test for Brant, but he emerged on the other side a stronger performer with more confidence and skill. Steve and Brant were as much a pair as Andrew and Eric, though they'd become friends with the entire troupe right away.

And himself? Ryan was easily the shortest of the Fools, with hobbit like features (though he'd just lost his curly hair). He was an aerospace engineer taking the scenic route through college, and the upcoming fall would be his fifth year...if society hadn't collapsed by then. He had been in the improv troupe nearly that entire time, and had even been Captain for a time, but that seemed like such a long time ago.

Ryan was by far the most senior member of the group, something that weighed heavily on his mind. He was only 22, but the other Fools around him seemed to look up to him at times as a respected elder, when in reality he still felt like a newcomer at times, especially when he thought back to all the past members. The older retired members seemed like giants, legends in their own right. Past exploits were handed down to the new Fools through a rich oral tradition. If something went wrong here, that could all be lost.

For all their differences, there were some similarities that connected them all, mostly having to do with improv. All of them were quick witted, clever, and committed to entertainment in some fashion. For the most part they shared the stage more or less equally, and valued teamwork. They all were trained to attack problems from multiple angles, to not deny, and of course improvise on and off the stage. Each one of them had individual specialties in academia, but most of them also had overlapping knowledge in more esoteric knowledge, from famous historical assassins to Golden Age movie stars.

Ryan slowly blinked the world back into focus as his trance-like concentration was broken by a sneeze. Angel Hair was sitting across the room quietly, eyes closed.

"Hey buddy," T.Rex said, softly.

"I was just resting my eyes!" Angel Hair insisted, snapping his head forward violently.

"It's fine. Let's go wake the others and get started for today."

They were walking towards the living room when they heard a pane of glass shatter nearby.

Current Word Count: 17,839

Chapter 13 - Defensive

2007-11-15T19:19:00.002-05:00

June 7th, 2008
11:53am
Upstairs Headquarters

The Fools fell silent as they stared at T.Rex, waiting for an answer.

"Alright," he began. "Let me explain a few things. When I first figured out there was a zombie infestation, I didn't know how far or how fast it would - still might - spread. And believe you me, the first thing I wanted to do is to grab my girlfriend and protect my family and friends.

"Unfortunately, I'm stuck here. I don't have a car. I don't have any way of fixing this, and rampaging across campus on foot, with the number of creatures out there is only gonna get me killed, or worse. I would be doing nobody any good as one of them. That's why we have the plan! To act calmly, rationally, and minimize our risks in a smart way.

"I knew that I couldn't get off campus quick enough, and the roads are probably clogged by now anyway, full of people fleeing the campus trying to escape what they can't comprehend. Some of you have cars, I know, but they're gonna do more harm than good. Everybody here was on campus, which is why I had Beard call you, which is why you were instructed to notify everybody you could as you assembled, even if they didn't believe you. Plus, Beard has been trying to contact the authorities at regular intervals, to no avail.

"The whole point of the plan is to set up this very fortress," he said, punctuating his words by stamping his feet, "so that we might survive to help others. Together, as a team, we have a much better chance of survival than just running around moment to moment trying to be heroes. Right?"

The Fools looked somberly at each other before nodding. There were a few muttered replies.

Ryan continued. "And do you really think I'd leave my girlfriend to fend for herself as the zombpocalypse rages on? Here's the deal - Jenny is safe at Hillenbrand, safer than we are here. Remember, I've worked there for the past two summers, so I have a pretty good idea of what's gonna happen over there. The conference for her hall was canceled, so her building is empty. She should be fine. Have some faith in the plan, okay?"

The collective tension on the room dissipated slowly as a wave of semi-relief washed over the Fools. Ryan had them go back to work on their morning tasks and joined the inventory crew.

It was slow, tedious work, and Ryan had plenty of time to mull over his numerous thoughts.

I wonder how many of them bought that, he pondered. I think they went along with it because I'm in charge, but I couldn't let them just worry about everything like that indefinitely. If they keep dwelling on the family and friends they might not be able to save, this could easily fall apart. It sucks, but we have to keep our thoughts focused on the here and now. I only called the Fools together that I knew were here, but I really wish we could get in touch with somebody, anybody on the outside. Some backup Foolish help sure would be great.

He continued stacking equipment and shuffling bags between rooms, making small talk to Kamikaze, Rubble, and Angel Hair as they cataloged the few remaining items.

T.Rex felt as though he was trying convince himself of his own decisions. Every hour that passed he felt less sure of his commands, his plan, and even leaving Jenny at Hillenbrand felt very wrong. Intellectually, he thought it was best to continue in this manner, but in his heart he felt a very protective urge.

No matter, he thought. Things will change soon enough.

Finally, by late afternoon, the group had finished cataloging and organizing all of the supplies they'd managed to gather before committing to the upstairs apartment. He called the Fools once more into the living room for a meeting, making sure the attic crew had a mandatory water break.

Once assembled, he opened up an important but delicate conversation. "Fools, we need to talk about something. It's not going to be pleasant, but it has to be said.

"The threat of infection by zombie is very real. There may come a day in the future when we have to leave our fortress and face the living dead on our own, and if you come in contact with them, it only takes a single scratch or bite to start the process that turns you into one of them."

Beard spoke up next. "Listen, if one of those fuckers gets a grip on you, you're pretty much toast. So stay alert and stay away. Attack from range, don't draw attention to yourself. If you do find yourself in a close-quarters situation, use a stick or a chair, anything, to keep them at bay. Watch your back and don't get cornered." He sighed. "Look, if one of you guys gets infected, I will make sure you are taken care of, no ifs, ands, or buts."

There was grim silence as the group looked at each other.

"I think what Beard is trying to say," Ryan said, "is that if I get infected in any way, I want any of you to kill me without hesitation. I'm telling you this now because that's what I expect of you, and that's the same thing you should and can expect from me. Got it?"

Everybody nodded. Ryan had everybody take a few minutes break to think things over, to make sure that sunk in.

"Alright, attic crew, see what more you can get before sunset," Ryan said. They slowly walked out of the living room to what was undoubtedly uncomfortable work. "The rest of you, I want you to start organizing individual equipment piles for each person. We're gonna get all this gear together for each Fool and put them into backpacks and duffels to be kept with them at all times, so that everybody has what they need in case of an emergency.

"Each pile should include a primary and secondary weapon with the appropriate gear, like ammo and scopes. Each person gets water and rations to be saved for emergencies only, so make sure they're well sealed, quiet, and sturdy. We'll divide up the other gear on a case by case basis, with emphasis on matching equipment to skills, weight considerations, and redundancy amongst the group."

He quickly scanned over the master inventory list.

-1 hunting rifle with 80 rounds ammunition
-1 handgun with 45 rounds
-2 pairs of binoculars
- 7 cellular phones
- 3 complete first aid kits
- 6 sleeping bags
- Peace's lockpicking kit
- rope, garbage bags, duct tape, a few large tarps
- 6 flashlights
- buckets, milk 1 gallon containers, a few tupperware pieces
- 1 15 foot ladder
- several furniture items, stair planks
- blankets, towels, and a few changes of clothes
- Brant's longbow with 30 arrows
- matches, batteries
- a toolbox full of hand tools (hand saw, hammer, screwdriver, nails, etc.)
- baseball bat, a lamp, two crowbars
- 2 hatchets, a machete, and 2 full sets of kitchen knives, ski poles
- 4 pool cues
- several bottles of alcohol
- 4 cases of bottled water, several cases of soda
- 4 large trash bags full of non-perishable food items
- a spice rack, and several bottles of painkillers and drugs
- grooming kit, mirror
- a map of Purdue and surrounding areas

It was surprising how many things they'd gathered on such short notice, Ryan noted. Only time would tell if it was enough.

Current Word Count: 16,229

Chapter 12 - Discussion

2007-11-13T16:29:00.000-05:00

June 7th, 2008
11:22am
Upstairs Headquarters

T.Rex gathered the Fools once more for a meal. The attic crew was happy to avoid the rapidly increasing temperature, the inventory crew was happy to take a break from the monotony of counting and listing. Both groups were making great progress, they reported, as a few cans of cold condensed soup was shared seven ways.

"Anybody know what today is?" Ryan asked the assembled group as lunch wound down. Cowboy was the first to correctly identify the date, and the Fools stared at Ryan, expectantly.

"I thought of something this morning," T.Rex began. "I know Benji's wedding was postponed earlier this year. However, I think it's fitting that the original date was today. I remember because he kept telling us to think of six seven oh eight. We always used to joke about the zombpocalypse breaking out during his wedding vows. Y'know, about the groomsmen being chosen to defend against the living dead. To think, if it hadn't been for his medical internship pushing it back, who knows what might have actually happened."

Renee was the first to comment. "Wait, you really think the outbreak is threatening that far?"

"Well, we don't really have any accurate knowledge about how far this thing has gone," said Angel Hair.

"It depends a lot on how this all started," Rubble chimed in.

Ryan shrugged. "Well, along those lines, I think it started here at Purdue. I know that might sound crazy, but perhaps it was a virus that escaped containment?"

"That's biologically unsound!" Beard said, incredulously.

"I hadn't heard anything about any zombies until I got the call from Beard," Kamikaze said. "I was pretty sure Purdue didn't have anything like that, especially not on campus where students might access it."

"They don't, trust me. I'm in the freakin' biology program," Beard said, defensively. "The only thing I can think of is that some jackass brought some exotic materials here as part of a special research project and it somehow got into the wrong hands. I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary outside of Purdue, though."

Ryan sighed. "Unless anybody can tell me there was another outbreak or at least reason to suspect a different source, it's my guess that this started here. Otherwise we probably would've heard more strange news reports, or at least suspicious activity, right?"

The group seemed unsure, but some nodded.

"Well, any other theories about how this started? Perhaps it was nanotechnology gone astray?" Peace offered.

"That's even more biologically unsound!" Beard said emphatically.

Cowboy spoke up once more. "Okay, I think the way it started is kind of irrelevant, guys."

"Okay, well, even if we ignore the cause, we can still make some educated guesses about the outbreak and the spread," Kamikaze said.

"I'm thinking at least a Class 2 outbreak," Ryan said. "That means at least Purdue, West Lafayette, and probably Lafayette across the river are in immediate danger. My best guess on what I could gather before initiating our plan was that Patient Zero came from somewhere near Harrison Street. That's somewhere around here. That initial infection got to a few others who stayed in the Student Health Center, one of which stayed.

"From there, who knows what the fuck happened. I think a construction worker got infected, my neighbor may have gotten it, the missing grad student, and a shadowy attacker on Tapawingo that nearly got me just the other night. None of which I recognize out there, by the way. Not that I know what they all look like dead-on. Uh, no pun intended.

"Plus, I should note the Police phones were out two nights ago and we've had power outages. Between the thousands of people coming and going for Purdue conferences, the commuting professors and students, and the tons of other people coming and going for academics, lectures, classes, facilities, etc., and who knows where an infected could've ended up. I highly doubt this has stayed just on our campus, but I don't think it's hit Class 3 yet."

"Well let's hope not," Peace said. "Class 3 is global, and we're pretty much all screwed then."

"I guess it might also depend on how long the victims take to die of an infection, and then reanimate," Rubble noted. "Because if it's relatively quick, nobody could get very far before becoming a zombie. If it took longer, they could carry the infection further."

Ryan hesitated before continuing. "I heard somebody say they got infected at a late-night party, and then the next morning they were feeling ill and unless I was mistaken, died shortly thereafter." He hoped the others would not interrogate him about how he'd broken into the neighbor's house, and how he'd seen firsthand the man slowly fade away.

"Well," Beard said. "I think we can estimate a statewide threat, for now. I will make sure the phones are all checked after we clean up here. Unless there are messages, I'm gonna make some calls and try to get this information out."

"Wait," Kamikaze interjected. "Ryan, you said that people are coming in for Purdue conferences, right?"

"Yes..." he trailed off, unsure of where this was headed.

"Those conferences are, what, 50-1,000 people at a time? And they stay in the residence halls?"

"Uh-huh..." Ryan nodded.

"Well, what about Jenny? She's working at Hillenbrand right now!"

Current Word Count: 14,948

Chapter 11 - Long Nights

2007-11-13T15:20:00.000-05:00

June 6th, 2008
9:08pm
Upstairs Headquarters

There was nothing Ryan could do to stop them.

The entire group of Fools scrambled out of sleeping bags and blankets, crowding to the windows. Each peered through a slat of the blinds to look out into the night.

"Guys!" Ryan hissed. "At least stay quiet, and make sure there is no light coming from up here!"

Looking around to make sure there were no sources of light to betray their setup, Ryan found his way to the window to join the others. The Fools parted to let him access a lower slat and somebody accidentally elbowed his bandaged arm. Wincing in pain, he gazed into the darkness and grimaced at the sight.

Several silhouettes could be seen in the parking lot, in the streets, and the nearby sidewalks and pathways. They stumbled and lurched around, each with a distinctive way of dragging its feet. Ryan even thought he saw one in a window in an apartment across the way.

T.Rex was dismayed as he spoke. "It's spreading even faster than I thought."

"There's only about thirty of them, by my count," said Angel Hair, optimistically.

"I could take 'em," Beard said.

"Listen. Nobody's going anywhere, and attacking in the dead of night is madness. You'd only be drawing more out. I want everybody to get back in bed and try and get some sleep." Ryan was terse with his orders, but felt uncomfortable. Like I can order these guys to get to sleep, he thought. Hell, I probably won't even sleep myself. Still, I feel like the group needs to know somebody is in control of the situation, as it were.

As the group settled back into their sleeping positions, Ryan tried to push the doubt of his own leadership from his mind. They all talked nervously, ignoring the occasional moan that permeated the still night. Between the excitement, the noise, and the heat, it was a long while before voices started leaving the group chatter. Nobody had to be woken up at midnight for the changing of the guard.

---

Ryan felt a hand over this mouth and he flailed about momentarily, before Beard came into focus. Beard raised a finger to his mouth and extended his free hand, helping Ryan to his feet.

"You're up for third shift," Beard whispered. "Nothing to report."

"Good work," T.Rex replied. "See you in the morning." He saw Cowboy across the room tapping Kamikaze awake and he waved her to the back room.

The two crept back to the back right bedroom and closed the door before they spoke again.

"So, what exactly are we supposed to do on this night watch, anyway?" Kamikaze asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Well," he yawned. "We're mainly just making sure the others get a chance to rest. We watch for attacks, for any sign of danger, or any sign of help. Things like that."

She nodded, and they took up positions in folding chairs facing the window. Kamikaze refused to let the shift pass in silence, and Ryan was glad for the conversation, in part to make sure he stayed awake and alert.

Among Kamikaze's chief concerns was who might take care of the animals in the veterinary portion of campus if the people in charge were infected. Ryan was slightly ashamed to admit that he was less concerned about them than saving his own life.

As their shift ended, the sun began to rise and filter through the blinds. It became light enough that they broke out a pack of playing cards. They had a healthy game of gin rummy started, with Renee leading the series 3-2, before somebody tapped on the door.

The noise startled Ryan, and before he could recover Kamikaze said "c'mon in," softly.

The door slowly opened, and a groggy Beard shuffled in. "I really couldn't sleep much, and I don't think anybody else did," he reported.

"Fair enough," Ryan finally said. "I think we may have to work out a pair of codewords. I don't want to have to worry about a zombie with an uncannily human knock," he chuckled. "Kamikaze, I want you to get breakfast started, in a little bit. Beard, you make sure everybody is up and awake soon. I'd like to get a good start on the day, because there's still work to be done."

The apartment slowly stirred to life as each Fool either woke from the sun or the sounds of the others. Together they shared a sugary breakfast of Pop-Tarts and water, and to those who disliked the taste, it already seemed like the food options were unpleasant.

Post breakfast, Ryan divided the Fools equally to tackle the two biggest tasks left. Peace, Cowboy, and Beard went to work on the roof hatch while Angel Hair, Rubble, and Kamikaze set out to to finish the inventory list.

Ryan sat down with a notepad and began to compile a set of notes, mainly lists of things to do. Something felt wrong, and he could not figure out what. He mentally reviewed the Emergency Zed Plan, trying to think of something he'd missed, or a step that wasn't completed. He chewed on the end of his pen as he searched for the right detail.

All of the sudden, it hit him like a ton of bricks.

Current Word Count: 14,057

Premature thoughts?

2007-11-10T03:14:00.000-05:00

Hey readers.

I have been overwhelmed by your support. Most of you have commented on more than one chapter, and you've voted in the poll. You're helping me fix grammar and spelling, syntax, and pointing out flaws and such that I've missed. You've offered up suggestions, plot points, and been very encouraging.

That's just 13k in! I still have a long way to go (need to try and get to 20k by the end of the weekend). Just wanted to let you know I appreciate what you've given me so far, and I'm pretty determined to finish this on time and tell a decent story.

The hardest part so far is pacing myself. I don't want to finish early. I also have problems writing in third person when the main character is me. Also, I hate dialogue structure.

I heard somebody was so eager to read they printed off the chapter when they had to leave for class. ! That was awesome.

Steven and Brant (the ones in the story) are considering writing some alternate point-of-view fiction to go with this, and I'm pretty excited about it.

One last thing - I may be writing some chapters out of order sometime soon to add drama and words to the story. Please pay close attention to the chapter numbers to stay on top of it all.

Chapter 10 - Dirty Jobs

2007-11-10T02:54:00.000-05:00

June 6th, 2008
3:25pm
Upstairs Headquarters

Ryan continued to delegate the many tasks at hand. "Kamikaze, I need you to fill every available container, including the sinks and bathtubs with water. Leave one out, actually, and mark it clearly as our toilet bucket in case the plumbing stops working. When you're done with that, go ahead and get to that rope ladder."

"Sure thing, cap'n," she replied got to work.

"Angel Hair and Rubble, your next job is to get me an inventory list of everything we have. I know this one sucks, but before we plan rations, I need to know how many Pop-Tarts we have. Before we can plan any sort of offense, I need to know what weapons and how many bullets we have. If it ends up taking forever, I'll either add somebody to the task or switch you guys out. Again, I'm not trying to sick you guys with the crap job, but I think you two know the supplies best, having hauled most of it yourself," he apologized.

They both nodded happily. "Don't worry so much, T. Rex," said Angel Hair. "It's really not that big of a deal."

"Yeah," Rubble added. "We know you're trying your best to be fair. I'd rather help out here than have to deal with the monsters out there by myself." They produced a pen and pad of paper and began with the nearest duffel.

Ryan nodded. "Thanks guys, that helps. I just don't want to be a dictator. Anyway, Peace and Cowboy, you keep working on that roof hatch. I know there's a bag of tools around here somewhere that you can use, but try not to do too much damage without thinking it through. Basically I'd suggest a lot of duct tape."

They retreated to the rear bedroom, leaving just T.Rex and Beard without duties.

"Okay, Beard. Next we gotta give everybody's phone the right message. Go ahead and power up your phone and access your voice mail," said T.Rex. As Beard did so, he continued. "Okay, now I need you to record something like this.

"You've reached Beard, and right now Fools are at Ryan's trying to survive the zombpocalypse. Survivors are currently Ryan, Renee, Andrew, Eric, John, Brant, and Steve as of June 6th. Phones are off to conserve power, so please leave a message and try the other Fools. We'll continue to check at regular intervals until the batteries are dead. Please notify the authorities and send help."

Beard nodded acknowledgment and walked to the back right bedroom to record. A minute later he emerged.

"Good," Ryan said. "Now I need you to go around and make sure everybody's phone is like that, including mine." He handed over his own phone. "My arm is killing me, so I'm gonna go take care of that." He grabbed a first aid kit from the pile of equipment in the living room and headed to the kitchen.

He walked around the corner and nearly tripped over one of the dozens of buckets and bowls on the floor filled with water. "Wow, Renee. Mind surrendering the sink for a bit and helping me with this arm wound real fast?"

"Of course not, you big dweeb. Come over here." She motioned him over and gingerly tried to untie the stained curtain around his arm. It wouldn't budge, so she pulled a pair of scissors from the kit and snipped the fabric away without hesitation. This caused the bleeding to resume, and Ryan looked away, slightly woozy.

She grabbed his free hand and clamped it over his arm near the elbow. "Hold this," she commanded. Looking away, Ryan held on tightly and tried to think of anything else.

Renee ran warm soapy water and washed the arm. There was a small bottle of iodine in the kit, and she poured a small amount onto a cotton ball. "This is gonna hurt," she warned before viciously scrubbing the cut up and down his forearm.

"Fuckbeans!! Jeez, that hurts!" he yelled, still refusing to look at his own arm.

"Everything okay in there, T.Rex?" Angel Hair shouted.

"Just FINE," he shouted back, as another cotton ball was swabbed.

Kamikaze finished the treatment by placing a long, sterile gauze over the wound and wrapping it tightly with medical tape from the first aid kit. "There, all done," she said, cheerily. He stood there, awkwardly.

"You can quit holding your arm now," she pointed out. Ryan let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and slowly released the tension on his arm. He cautiously looked over at his left arm, as if a good stare would cause it to bleed again.

"Thanks, Renee. Want some help with the water?" he offered.

"No thanks, I think I got it." She continued filling buckets from the sink and stacking them in efficient overlapping piles in the kitchen, filling empty cupboards and the pantry first. She also emptied gallon containers of milk from the downstairs refrigerator and filled them with water as well.

Ryan gently nursed his arm as he checked on the other Fools at work. Cowboy and Peace had removed the closet doors and used the room to push in a dresser. This allowed them to reach the attic without a ladder and they'd marked out an approximate area to make the roof hatch. They kept having trouble with the heat inside, so Ryan asked them to take a water break before continuing.

Angel Hair and Rubble were quickly cataloging all the items. They'd quarantined the middle bedroom, and emptied it first. Only after listing an item did they move it back in, attempting to stack everything in an easily accessible and visible manner. Ryan was quite impressed.

Beard had completed the cell phone instructions, and together with T.Rex they began to work out duty and ration schedules. They figured with seven Fools, each night would have three night watch shifts of two people for three hours apiece, with a night off for the seventh person rotating amongst them. This would last from 9 pm to 6am, covering the darkest parts of the evening. Starting with an alphabetical list, the first two would take the first shift, second two the second shift, and third pair the final shift, and the odd Fool out had the night off. The next night, the list shifted one name down. This would ensure fairness, and a regular change of pace for all duties.

Thus the first night was Andrew and Brant from 9pm to midnight, Eric and John from midnight to 3am, Renee and Ryan from 3am to 6am, and Steve had the night off.

They would try for 3 liters of drinking water per day per person once the fresh water supply stopped. For now, the water wasn't a problem, but it remained to be seen how long their stores could last them. Beard and T.Rex also wouldn't restrict showers or the toilet as long as they worked, but showers were a low priority and they'd make deal with a bucket at some point. They decided the northwest corner of the house was the dumping point for trash and waste.

Water was plentiful (for now), but food had to be rationed immediately. This was especially important as Ryan's stomach started to growl. He'd not eaten at all that day and had been busy moving and thieving. The final inventory was still being tabulated, but T.Rex estimated that from what food he'd gathered and seen brought over, the seven of them would not last more than two weeks on minimum rations. Not to mention that they'd be sustaining themselves on mostly sugary packaged foods. He was slightly worried, but tried to remain optimistic. Hopefully they wouldn't need to hold out that long. Thoughts of food consumed all of his thoughts.

As the evening crept closer, Ryan pulled the Fools from their duties to share their first meal together as a band of survivors. Beard carefully doled out conservative portions of granola bars and fruit snacks, with glasses of water all around.

Nobody complained about the food, Ryan thought. This time.

As they stuffed the wrappers into a trash bag, T.Rex fetched a black case and gave a short lecture about rule number five.

"Guys, I can't stress this enough. If something should happen, a thing to keep in mind is rule five. That's ideal protection is tight clothes and short hair. That means keep your shoelaces tied, don't get sloppy, and pay attention to your appearance. I'd love to give you all armor and such, but even if we didn't worry about mobility, weight, and sound, we'd all die of heat in this weather. I think our best bet is to stay quiet, light, and nimble."

He had no indication so far that his friends were anything but loyal and willing to accept his leadership. Still, he was unsure of how the following days or even weeks would play out. He had doubts in his head about his own leadership skills, and felt the gesture he was about to make was leading by example. That it would help keep up the esprit de corps of the group, even if it wasn't in danger -yet.

T.Rex had Peace spread out a garbage bag onto the living room floor. Removing scissors and an electric razor from the black case, he let the Fools take turns shaving his head. They giggled as each one removed a stripe of curls from his head. The razor had a sufficient charge that they all took a turn shortening each other's hair. Beard kept his eponymous facial feature, and Kamikaze removed her hip-length ponytail almost entirely.

After they cleaned up the mess, it was time for bed. Together they placed five sleeping bags in a Tetris-esque arrangement on the living room floor. It was crowded, but they managed. As the rest of the Fools turned in and attempted to fall asleep, Peace and Rubble kept first watch. The roof hatch wasn't completed yet, so they set up shop in the back right bedroom.

As the excitement of the first day died down, and the last bit of chatter stopped, a brief moment of silence crept through the apartment before the night watch spoke up.

"Guys," Peace said nervously from the back room. "I can see dozens of them."

Current Word Count: 13,165

Chapter 9 - House Rules

2007-11-07T23:08:00.001-05:00

June 6th, 2008
1:08pm
Upstairs Apartment

Peace was literally bouncing up and down with excitement.

"I take it you got in okay?" Ryan said, calmly.

"Yeah! I was all like-" Peace wiggled his hands as he spoke, miming picking a lock. "Then the lock was all like- bam," he twisted his fingers violently and made a grinding noise, followed by a teeth-clicking snap. He grinned proudly.

"Well done, Peace," Ryan patted him on the shoulder. "Now let's go see what you've discovered. Cowboy, follow me. We're through in here and I've got your next job."

T.Rex, Cowboy, and Peace exited the kitchen and walked through the living room. They each grabbed an armful of supplies to help Rubble and Angel Hair as they made their way out the door. As they stepped into the harsh humid air, they saw Kamikaze hard at work destroying the stairs.

She stood up at the sound of the door opening and leaned on the stair rails. "Howdy there, Captain. I'm taking out every other plank for now so the stairs are still somewhat usable. I also think we should make a rope ladder, as a backup that can be moved around as needed."

"Excellent," Ryan said. "When we get some downtime, I want you to make it happen."

She helped the three of them upstairs with their supplies, and they piled everything in the middle bedroom (above Ryan's room). Peace excitedly hurried them through the desolate, echoing apartment to the rear bedroom. The only items that remained in the upstairs apartment was furniture owned by the rental company, including a few mattresses and dressers, and kitchen appliances.

The back left bedroom was nondescript. Peace led them in and opened the second closet door, and pointed up as Cowboy and T.Rex looked on in confusion.

"There!" Peace exclaimed. "I found a way to get into the attic."

T.Rex stepped forward and leaned into the closet. Inside, on the ceiling, was a panel that rested on a frame.

"Most excellent. Can you two give me a boost up there and I'll have a look around, Lion King style?" Ryan grinned.

Peace and Cowboy crouched to let T.Rex climb onto their shoulders. They slowly raised him up and shuffled single file into the closet, making sure he ducked to clear the frame. Once inside, he gingerly pushed the panel up and slid it into the attic space. They heaved on a count of three, and Ryan found purchase on the lip of the frame. He pulled himself up as the other two pushed his legs upward, and his waist cleared the rim. Flopping forward onto his stomach, he scrambled forward until he was clear.

"Somebody get me a flashlight up here, will ya?" Ryan shouted down below. He crouched and waited a few minutes before Peace ran over and Cowboy relayed one up. T.Rex clicked on the flashlight and peered slowly around. The attic space wasn't luxurious, but a short person such as himself only needed to bend slightly to walk around anywhere but the tallest point. He walked to the end and back before the dust and stifling heat were too much to bear. Standing near the rim of access, he made sure it was clear in the closet before hopping down.

Back on the floor once more, he tapped Peace on the chest with the flashlight. "You and Cowboy have to figure out how to get up there reliably. Once you've got that down, find a way to punch through the ceiling."

"Wait just a second," Cowboy interrupted. "You want us to make a hole in the roof?" he moved his hands as he spoke, one passing by the other as if launching a missile.

"Well, don't start until you can figure out a way to keep the elements out, at least mostly. But yeah, we're gonna need roof access before long," Ryan said a matter of factly. "If/when it rains, we'll collect fresh rainwater, we can see further in every direction for recon, gives us chances for signaling, and it will give us a vantage point for sniper attacks if we can spare the ammunition. Plus, it's a backup escape route. Just make sure it's facing the west side of the house."

Peace and Cowboy stared blankly at each other as T.Rex walked out of the room to check on the other preparations, not quite sure of what to make of the last set of orders. Ryan walked briskly to the other end of the apartment, out the door, and leaned over the stairway railing.

"Almost finished down there, guys?" he shouted down to the Fools working below.

"Just a few more trips, T.Rex," Rubble noted from the downstairs living room.

"Let's finish up here, then," said Ryan. "Renee, go ahead and remove the rest of the stairs - we'll use the ladder from now on." She nodded affirmative and quickly dismantled the rest of the slats, joining Rubble and Angel Hair hauling the equipment up the ladder.

"Anybody heard back from Beard, yet?" Ryan shouted to the crew.

As if on cue, the bearded, mud-caked sentry emerged from the bushes nearby. "Survey complete, T.Rex. I'm headed up now."

"Alrighty, let's close it up," Ryan said loud enough for everybody to hear. "Everybody in the living room in 10 minutes."

The last of the supplies were moved up, the stairway was rendered useless, and everybody moved upstairs. Ryan made one last head count - Kamikaze, Peace & Beard, Rubble & Angel Hair, Cowboy, and himself, before pulling up the ladder. He closed and locked the door and made sure all the windows were shut, locked, and had blinds down and closed.

The Fools trickled into the living room and took up positions on the floor in a semicircle.

"Okay, everybody," Ryan began. "Let's lay out some rules. First off, we're gonna stick with the buddy system. I don't want anybody to leave the apartment without somebody to watch your back." He looked at Beard and amended "Beard here has the exception. He's got extensive fieldcraft expertise, and he'll be acting as our freelance scout, so he may be going solo from time to time.

"That brings me to my next point. Nobody should be leaving. I don't want to risk leaving this safe haven unless it is absolutely necessary. Reasons for that include," he ticked off his fingers as he continued "if we decide as a group that there's a better place to go, we run out of supplies or need information, there's a greater danger such as fire, or a legitimate authority has the area secure."

Beard raised a hand. "I'd like to emphasize rule number 9 - no place is safe, only safer. Our master plan dictates that we stay here for now since it's our best bet, but it is by no means impregnable or foolproof. Heh, Fools. Anyway, stay sharp and we won't have any problems."

Ryan nodded in agreement. "Good point. Anyway, if for some reason somebody does need to leave, make sure you tell another Fool. I don't want anybody unaccounted for, and I especially don't want to play guessing games. Well, unless it's improv, but that's another story.

"So, until further notice, we're under house arrest. I also am asking you all to practice sound discipline. That means everybody keep your voice low, and any electronics should be muted or blanketed. Nobody should be shouting or screaming unless there's an emergency, and if the power should come back, we run appliances sparingly when absolutely needed. I don't want to attract attention to this apartment from the living dead, or any survivors that think we might be an easy target to be taken advantage of.

"Similarly, no lights between dusk and dawn. Zombies have excellent low light vision, and any source of light could attract them. Or, once again, people can be drawn to the lights and I'd like to avoid that if we can," he said as a warning.

Peace grinned. "It's like we're in London during WWII and the Luftwaffe is conducting night raids!"

Ryan couldn't resist a chuckle. "Good thought, Peace. I've got some more things you're not gonna love, so thinking of it as a game or a scene can help with morale. Beard and I will work up duty schedules in a bit. That includes pretty stringent food and water rationing, weapons and tactical training, and a rotating sets of night watch responsibilities.

"Oh, speaking of, everybody turn off your phones, right now. Power is something we'll ration as well, and we will check for messages at regular intervals." All of the Fools scrambled for their pockets and a small symphony of beeps followed.

"Okay, Fools. I've got more jobs that need to be taken care of before nighttime, I just wanted to spell out the basics before we got any further."

Ryan ran his hands through his hair with a hint of exhaustion. "Tonight, we take care of rule number 5."

Current Word Count: 11,433

Chapter 8 - Preparations Begin

2007-11-07T20:34:00.000-05:00

June 6th, 2008
12:22pm
Ryan's Apartment

Ryan had just finished his speech, and nobody moved. He glanced slowly around the room, making eye contact with each Fool in turn, and met a grim and determined face from nearly all of them.

He continued. "Alright then, excellent. I'll give you more information later, but for now, your assignments. Peace, how are your lock picking skills these days?"

Peace replied smartly as he stood up. "Sharp as tacks, sir."

"Excellent. Rule number six. I want you to go outside, upstairs, and get us into the apartment above us." Peace nodded and rummaged through is bookbag before bolting out the door.

"Wait," Cowboy spoke up. "Rule six?"

Beard filled in the information as he drew a weathered book from his duffel. "Rule number six from the Zombie Survival Guide - Get up the staircase, then destroy it."

"Bingo," Ryan confirmed. "We'll have a much better chance of survival once we can get into the apartment above us. That'll be our base of operations from here on out. Kamikaze?"

"Yes, Captain!" she saluted with her response.

"You're on staircase duty. I'll help you find some tools, and then I want you to start dismantling the staircase to the apartment above. I've got a ladder, so that'll be our access once the stairs are gone. That'll keep most things at bay. Try and save what wood you can, we may need it later for cooking if the power doesn't come back." She raised her hand.

"Yes, Kamikaze?"

"What about your arm?"

"Oh. Oh this?" He raised his arm with the red stained bandage. "This is nothing. We'll worry about this later."

She walked over. "We'll worry about this as soon as we are upstairs, okay? I want to make sure we clean and bandage it properly."

Kamikaze checked his bandage briefly before heading outside. Ryan took a moment to regain his thoughts, caught off guard by how adamant she was.

"Beard. Go ahead and move to Phase Three of the Emergency Zed Plan, as you see fit. Snowsuit up, buddy." Beard nodded, slung a bag over his shoulder, and headed out the door.

Rubble looked hesitant. "If there's zombies about, should we be worried about being outside, undefended?" he asked, nervously.

Ryan grinned. "Got it under control. Phase Three is to secure the perimeter. Beard is on scout patrol while we're putting things in order. He'll be roaming the nearby area looking for defensible positions, choke points, and any stragglers that may wander by."

Rubble nodded. "Nicely done."

"That's why we have the Plan. Rubble and Angel Hair, you two are porters. I set things in a pile in the living room, you two make it go upstairs by stairway and then ladder. Got it?"

They groaned in unison. Ryan shrugged, unapologetic. "Sorry guys, there's gonna be a lot of stuff, and some of it can get kinda heavy. I'm counting on you two working together to get it done. Think of it as your hazing." High fives exchanged hands as they set to work gathering up supplies.

Everybody had left to work on their individual assignments except Cowboy, who sat looking at Ryan expectantly. "Just us, right T.Rex?" he asked, excited. "Betcha you've got a special job lined up just for us Billy Badasses."

Ryan looked at his feet before responding. "Well buddy, you and I have the very important job of gathering useful supplies from this downstairs apartment and piling them in the living room for Rubble and Angel Hair to move."

"Weaksauce," Cowboy replied.

They set out scouring the apartment for anything they thought might be useful against what Ryan hoped would be a short siege. They found more batteries, rope, matches, and made sure to grab Ryan's Mag-Lite flashlight.

"Just make sure you don't get anything too heavy, or that needs power, Cowboy, because we can't be sure the power will come back in time." Ryan warned, as they piled a long torchiere in the living room.

"Wait, how long is 'in time', exactly?" Cowboy asked, seeming worried.

"Couldn't say for sure. I hope no more than a day or two, but I can't even get a hold of the Purdue Police," Ryan admitted. "Power is out, and I found evidence of several attacks all on my own. I have no way of knowing for sure how far it may have spread without my computer. The best we can do is prepare for the worst, and hope for the best. I'm guessing that we can hole up upstairs and stay low for a few days before the authorities get their heads out of their asses, and put together a plan to clear out the campus. Unless something gets out of control, we don't have to resort to a Redeker strategy."

"Ryan, what the hell is a Redeker strategy? Is that gonna go on my inappropriate references counter?" Cowboy seemed almost annoyed and held out his hands as a warning.

"Sorry. It's from the Zombie Survival Guide again. I'll go over more of the details when we get settled upstairs."

"I hope that's soon, because it's really freakin' hot in here."

"I know, Cowboy. I know."

Together they gathered some low tech entertainment - playing cards, a few books and a board game. Alex's room had some candles that Stephanie had given him, and those were confiscated towards the war effort. Almost all of the electronics were left behind, but not before being emptied of batteries. Ryan grabbed his cell phone charger in case they ever got power back. They took the ski poles from under Ryan's bed, bleach, toilet paper, and soap from the bathroom, and every inch of duct tape they could find. They grabbed any clean towels and Ryan's personal grooming kit.

"Are you really worried about growing some stubble?" Cowboy joked, as they ransacked the bathroom.

"Rule number five." Ryan replied, before remembering not everybody had memorized the list. "Ideal protection is tight clothes and short hair."

"You mean you're gonna cut your hair?" Cowboy asked, incredulous.

"It's gone as soon as we get some time tonight." Ryan replied, brushing the curls from his forehead.

A first aid kit from the linen closet and two sleeping bags joined the pile of goods being transported upstairs before Cowboy and T.Rex moved to the kitchen. They piled any non-perishable food into trash bags, leaving the cabinets bare. As Ryan wrapped the steak knife set in a hand towel, he wondered how long they might last with the food at hand, especially without power.

The food in the refrigerator had been without power for a few hours, and it was uncertain when it might come back. They opened the fridge door and quickly emptied it of anything that could be taken upstairs without worry of spoilage - including cans of soda.

Just then, Peace ran into the kitchen and skidded to a stop. "T.Rex!" he shouted. "You gotta come see this."

Current Word Count: 9,928

Chapter 7 - Prevention

2007-11-07T19:06:00.000-05:00

June 6th, 2008
11:48am
Ryan's Neighbor's Apartment

"What isss it?" the second voice asked, with greater difficulty. There was a pause.

Ryan's pulse was pounding in his head. He held his breath, closed his eyes, and waited.

The first voice spoke, confused. "Oh, I just got a weird text message from my girlfriend. Apparently she wants me to 'come and protect her'?" Ryan noticed a micro-pause around the words that seemed to fit air-quotes. "Better not be that ex-boyfriend of hers snooping around. I gotta go."

Trapped under the bed, Ryan nervously opened one eye to see the only visible shoes turn and exit the room. He slowly let out his breath as quietly as possible. He heard the distinctive noise of feet shuffling down a flight of stairs, and the door opening and slamming shut. Ryan waited nervously for a few moments, silently thanking the universe for giving him a pass on the past 10 minutes.

The body above him no longer made any noise. Gingerly pushing the plastic case ahead of him, Ryan army-crawled his way out from under the bed, wincing every time he put his weight on his left forearm. Once out from under the bed, he stood up and dusted himself off. He surveyed the man laying on the bed in front of him.

I really, really hope this man is not on his way to becoming a zed, Ryan thought grimly, though he was fairly certain what was about to happen to this man. He decided it was worth the risk to find out more. Setting the case down, he picked up the baseball bat and used it to move aside the cover.

The man's arm had two distinct sets of teeth marks on his right arm, and several scratches on his neck and face. Ryan shuddered involuntarily. He noticed the man was breathing very slowly, and very shallow at that. He grabbed the edge of the sheet and heaved, so the man rolled onto his side.

That'll help in case he get sick, thought Ryan, but I can't just leave him here. What if he's on his way out, ready to come back a zed next door from my apartment? He quickly scanned the room. The desk drawers had nothing of use. He was about to give up and leave before he decided to check the nightstand drawer.

Inside there were several condoms, a Playboy, and a pair of handcuffs. Kinky, Ryan thought. He grabbed the handcuffs and very delicately clicked one of the silver bands around the man's ankle and anchored the other to the bed frame. If he wakes up, he'll think it was his roommate pulling a prank. If he dies and reanimates, well, then at least his roommates might have a chance.

Ryan stood at the foot of the bed for several moments, gripping the bat tightly in his hand. He wondered if it was right, to pre-emptively stop what he was fairly certain was a zombie waiting to happen. What if he was wrong? He'd be condemning an innocent man a violent and blunt death - tethered to the bed, no less - on circumstantial evidence.

I can't do it, he admitted to himself. He grabbed the rifle case and carried the bat into the hallway, shutting the door behind him somberly. As he carried the items downstairs to his pile of supplies, he hoped he'd done the right thing.

Grimly, he took a few trips walking the items across the walkway to his own apartment. The last things he took from the neighbor's house before leaving were a crowbar, shovel, and ladder, all found in the garage.

He set about collecting some items in his own house, similar to the raid just conducted the next house over. A few minutes later there was a loud knock at the door. Ryan grabbed the crowbar, and crept to his own door. He went up on his tiptoes and peered through the peephole.

Outside the doors stood the Fools. Ryan breathed a sigh of relief, unlocked the door, and ushered in Beard, Peace, Angel Hair, Rubble, Cowboy, and Kamikaze. They all carried bookbags, duffel bags, and other luggage.

"Have a seat, guys, I've got a few things to talk about." Ryan explained as they filed in. The Fools found spots in the living room amongst stuffed trash bags and piles of weapons. He grabbed Beard by the sleeve and pulled him aside near the doorway.

"It's worse than I thought." Ryan whispered.

Beard frowned. "How bad?"

"I'm pretty sure we're already at a Class 2 outbreak, but I've not heard much from the outside. It could be even worse."

"Well I got here as fast as I could, with what I could."

"I know, I know. You did a great job. Any problems with the plan so far?"

"None."

"Great. I'll take over from here." Beard sat down next to Peace and waited for Ryan to speak.

Ryan cleared his throat.

"Fools, I'm going to make this short and sweet. I'm not sure what Beard has already told you, but I have strong reason to believe that right here at Purdue, right now as we speak, we may be in great danger. I'm gonna do my best to turn this apartment into a fortress and defend this patch of land against the living dead, and if it comes to it, the threat of the zombpocalypse itself.

I know it's a lot to take in. Sacrifices must be made, and the coming days and possibly more are gonna get a lot worse before they get better. You're welcome to stay and help, and I hope that you do. If you stay, I'm in command and we follow the Emergency Zed Plan. If that doesn't work for you, now's the time to leave."

Current Word Count: 8,763

Chapter 6 - Infiltration

2007-11-06T21:06:00.000-05:00

June 6th, 2008
10:24am
South Grant Street

"Is this a drill?" Eric asked, calmly.

"Not a drill. Repeat, not a drill. One confirmed attack, several suspected. One confirmed video sighting, as well." Ryan said in a hushed voice.

"Balls! I'm on it. Beard out." There was a click, and the entire conversation ended.

It was over in a matter of seconds, but that was all it took. They'd talked many times before about strategy and tactics, discussed hypothetical scenarios ranging from a simple local outbreak to worldwide catastrophe. It had all been in good fun, a harmless thought exercise, but now their very existence could very well depend on how fast and how accurately they could bring their plan to bear.

Hundreds of variables need to be accounted for, Ryan thought, starting at home. He raced back to his apartment knowing every second counted. To start, he quickly checked every window in the house, making sure they were locked with blinds shut. Not that blinds would do anything to slow down any number of zombies, but making sure that this apartment and anybody inside of it drew no unnecessary attention to itself was paramount. He also noted that the power was still out, and wondered when - if it might be restored.

Ryan knew the next item of business was going to be unpleasant. It was dangerous. It was illegal, but he wasn't about to let a little thing like "the law" keep him from improving his chances of survival against the living dead.

He stealthily exited the apartment, taking extra care to lock behind him. He wasn't planning on being gone long, nor was his destination far, but now more than ever security of his perimeter could mean the difference between life and a fate worse than death.

A quick look around confirmed there were neither creatures nor prying eyes around. He snuck next door and listened at the window for any sounds emanating from inside. There were none, at least that he could hear. He crept to the side door and carefully slid his arm through a broken pane of glass. The glass that hadn't been repaired in over a year after a particularly raucous party. Taking great care to avoid the shards still clinging to the frame, he extended his short arm as far as it would go and very gently unlocked the door.

Just then, there was a rustle in the bushes nearby and it broke Ryan's delicate concentration. Startled, he reflexively withdrew his arm and in doing so dragged the inside of his forearm against the sharp glass, opening a deep laceration and narrowly missing an artery.

"Fuckin' hell!" he hissed, dragging the rest of his arm gingerly away from the glass and clutching it tightly. It was too late to turn back now, so he rushed inside his neighbor's door and closed it behind him, hoping the rustle was benign and his wound wasn't serious. He ripped the curtain from the nearest window and tied it tightly around his arm. The blood quickly began to stain the white fabric. Ryan tried to block the sight from his mind and instead focus on the task at hand.

He crept forward through the house, keeping low to avoid being seen through the windows. First, he stopped in the living room. He grabbed all four pool cues and the bridge and stacked them by the back door. Moving onto the kitchen, he found their booze fridge and brushed aside bottles alcohol until he found the purest, which happened to be a bottle of Everclear. He set that next to the cues and searched around for a container.

Man, I wish I had my bookbag he thought as he opened cabinets at random, until at last he found a pile of garbage bags. He extracted two from the box and shook them open, forming a double layered sack. The cabinets were then ransacked in order, with any non-perishable food being tossed inside the bags. Pop-Tarts, granola bars, canned goods, chips, peanut butter, mini-muffins, cereal and more found their way into his stash until the cupboards were bare. Ryan felt like a more desperate version of The Grinch as he piled the food bag near the door. Just as he was sneaking out of the kitchen to head the second floor, he spied a case of bottled water resting against the refrigerator. He dragged it over to the pile and raced upstairs.

Pausing at the top of the stairs, he listened once more for any sounds, but heard none. He darted in and out of the upstairs bedrooms in turn, desperate for any useful item. In the first bedroom, he found batteries and matches in the desk drawers, but nothing else. He stuffed the small items into his pockets and kept moving. He even checked under the bed and behind the door. The lock on the trunk at the foot of the bed was tempting, but every moment he spent inside the house was another moment he could get caught.

The second bedroom seemed fruitless at first glance. Opening the closet released a cascade of sports equipment, and the noise was deafening as tennis balls, a soccer ball, and several footballs clattered to the floor. Ryan stood amidst the pile tense, ready to be confronted, but nothing came. After a few moments, he grabbed a baseball bat and ran to the final bedroom, making sure to shut the door behind him.

Ryan opened the door and found himself staring directly at a gigantic stereo system. He paused for a moment to admire the quadruple speaker towers, the enormous subwoofer, and the hundreds of buttons on the front panel. So that's how they manage to keep me awake past 1am. What a shame! Such terrible music comes from these gorgeous speakers! I'm not here to vandalize, but boy would I love to relocate this to my apartment and rock out properly. Perhaps some Judas Priest or Scorpions, shaking the walls... okay, so I'm sort of vandalizing he admitted to himself. But I have to! It's for my own survival. Besides, I could never carry it myself, there's no power, and the sound would only attract attention, he said to himself as a sort of justification.

He shook away the thoughts of outright theft and searched the room. The stereo dominated the room, but when he opened the closet and saw what it contained, the baseball bat in his hand clattered to the floor. Hanging directly in front of him was a camouflage hunter's jumpsuit. Above that was a black plastic case that barely cleared the width of the closet.

Ryan excitedly pulled the case out of the closet and set it on the hardwood floor next to the bed. He said a silent "thank you" that there were no locks and clicked open the case. Inside was a gorgeous rifle, with boxes of shining gold tipped ammunition nestled alongside it.

Ryan grinned. Yes, he thought. This will do quite nicely.

Just then there was a muffled pair of voices nearby. From downstairs, there was a noise at the door as the doorknob was tried, and then a jiggle of keys.

Shit! he thought, panicking slightly. Ryan slammed the plastic lid down and clicked the snaps shut. He grabbed the case and headed for the hallway before he heard the front door creak open.

"...can't believe you, man!" came the voice of a clearly annoyed male.

"Whaaat? I ttold you I jussst needed your help, dude." the second voice spoke, slurred.

"I'm on my fucking lunch break. I'm gonna be late because of your stupid ass."

"Sssorry bro. I got kinda schwasted last night and ended up sssleeping with this girl at a paaarrty. Shhhe got really kinky and I woke up with the mother of all hangggovers."

Oh no, Ryan thought. Please tell me he didn't get bitten last night, thinking it was a drunken hookup.

There was a strange mixture of sounds as one pair of footsteps ascended the stairs, the other one clearly being dragged. Ryan was running out of options. He ran back into the third bedroom and rolled under the bed, dragging the case with him.

Wonderful, Ryan. You're in the clear now, what with the multiple escape routes and such, he said to himself sarcastically.

The steps and dragging noises got louder until a pair of legs appeared in Ryan's vision from under the bed.

No! No no no no. Other bedroom. Why? Why does he have to sleep in this bedroom? Ryan thought to himself, trying desperately to lie silently without moving.

Ryan held his breath as the legs being dragged disappeared from sight and the bed above him depressed uncomfortably into his back. He noticed that the blood from his arm wound had begun to pool on the wooden floor, but he feared any movement would betray his position. He closed his eyes, and waited nervously.

"I hope you can sleep this off" said the first voice. "You're lucky I owe you rent money or I would've left you at that house. How many times are you going to do this to me? My boss already thinks I'm a screwup."

"I'm sssorry, dude. Can you take me tt-to the hossspital when you get off work?" said the second voice, sounding very apologetic.

"Maybe. Just let me-" the voice cut off abruptly. Ryan opened his eyes in fright. Had the blood pooled enough to be seen?

"What. The. Hell?" said the first voice.

Current Word Count: 7,770

Chapter 5 - Puzzle Pieces

2007-11-05T21:43:00.000-05:00

June 6th, 2008
9:01am
Ryan's Apartment

Shit. I'm late for class, was Ryan's first thought upon waking up the next morning. He sat upright on the couch, as the momentary panic that accompanies such an epiphany quickly reached its peak. Class started at 8:30. By the time I get there, it'll be over anyway. Looks like I'm gonna have to chalk that one up as a loss, he thought. Just as quickly, the panic faded as a sort of resigned relief washed over him. It was out of his hands now.

He chastised himself for not setting an alarm, and then remembered that his phone had borne the brunt of his nervous frustration the night before. Now free of his morning obligations, Ryan took his time getting ready for the day. He was rinsing the shampoo from his hair before he remembered fully the ordeal of the night before. He was more upset at the loss of his bookbag than anything else, and wondered if there was any hope of recovering it. This thought quickly gave way to the worry that the creature was still out there, hunting him. He exited the shower, got dressed, and gathered his things before sitting down to his computer.

As the computer booted up, Ryan pondered the situation. Something doesn't feel right about all of this. The thing that attacked me last night never asked for any money, never even said anything. Didn't seem to have much in the way of motor skills, either. Drunk? High? Looking to pick a fight? Not to mention there's been some weird stuff happening on campus lately, too.

Just then, the screen went blank and the entire apartment fell silent. A power outage left every appliance in the house without life.

"Come on!" he shouted in frustration. He decided to resume his sleuthing on campus, where hopefully a computer lab had a reliable connection. He had to risk a confrontation with the creature to find out more.

Walking to campus was a paranoid affair. Every few steps he paused to look around, listening intently for a sign of another attack. Mundane sounds like bike tires or idle cars seemed to hang in the humid air, each threatening to turn into the distinctive moan. It was with great relief that he opened the door to the Stewart Center unscathed. He made a beeline for the computer lab, pausing only to grab a copy of The Exponent.

Time seemed to drag on as the scripts for the campus computer terminal processed Ryan's requests to log in. He drummed his fingers on the desk nervously and thought c'mon, c'mon, faster, faster... before seeing the worried glances of the students sitting next to him. He forced himself to sit patiently. As he waited for Windows to start, he flipped through the student paper for any notice of a pedestrian injury near Wood St. There was no mention of any accident of any kind.

He opened Firefox and searched the Purdue website for any indication of any abnormal news. Hillenbrand, he noted, had a last-minute cancellation of a conference. This was the same conference that was supposed to be occupying Jenny's building, which meant that she would probably have an empty building for the time being.

The paper offered no more insight. The graduate student mentioned yesterday was still missing. A construction injury. More visitors to the student health center. He also noticed that more record hot weather had been predicted.

Great, he thought more power outages at the apartment. Just what I need right now.

A small icon popped up at the bottom right of his screen. He had several new messages. Opening up his e-mail inbox, he quickly skimmed over the messages. One came directly from Purdue Physical Facilities. Ryan knew it was fairly common for construction work to take place during the summer, as less students would be affected. Most students who stayed over the summer received these messages informing them of road closings, building services shut down, or other problems.

This particular message was a simple warning of a two lane road near Mackey being reduced to one lane starting next week until July. Playing a hunch, Ryan followed the link at the end of the message to the Facilities website. There he found a link there to a webcam that showed the progress of a new parking garage being built. He searched through the archives for a clip of the basement level that was under construction, dated last night.

There, on the screen, was a shadowy figure with an unmistakable gait.

The same gait, the same silhouette of the attacking figure from last night. He couldn't believe his eyes. It all made more sense now - the news, the "accidents", the strange beings on campus.

Fighting back a panic, he calmly logged off of his computer and resisted the urge to sprint for home. He stood up, pushed in his chair and briskly walked out of the room. As he left the Stewart Center, he took one last look of the students in the computer lab, unaware of the danger that now loomed large over Purdue. Run! he mentally urged them. Flee for your lives!

Ryan jogged back to his apartment nervously. He desperately hoped he was wrong, but the evidence was staring him right in the face. With his options dwindling and knowing full well every minute counted, he pulled his cellphone from his pocket.

Damn. Not much charge left, he noted. He dialed the number for Eric, and waited impatiently for him to pick up.

"Hello?" Eric answered.

"Beard - there's not much time, so listen carefully. Initiate the Emergency Zed Plan."

Current Word Count: 6,195

Chapter 4 - Warning Signs

2007-11-04T23:29:00.000-05:00

June 5th, 2008
11:18pm
Tapawingo Drive Extension

Ryan walked along the side of the road towards the south end of campus where the bulk of the student apartments were located. This side road, recently completed, was still unlit and rarely traveled. He kicked the gravel at his feet as he nodded his head to the beat coming from his headphones, pausing occasionally to air-drum or air-guitar along with the song.

Silently stalking him from the wooded area nearby was a gruesome creature that stumbled towards him, plodding determinedly. Its uncoordinated movements atop the gravel gave it a distinctive shuffle that went unnoticed by its preoccupied target.

Ryan paused and knelt to tie his shoe, and the creature lessened the distance with a slow, awkward shuffle. Only a few meters separated them.

As he reached the edge of River Road, Ryan paused to look for traffic. In the summertime this late at night there were few cars anywhere on campus, much less there at the desolate intersection. The creature continued to gain behind him, making no attempt at stealth. It came within arm's reach before Ryan stepped off the sidewalk and briskly crossed the double lane road and started up the hill.

The creature continued its chase.

Reaching the steep hill slowed Ryan somewhat, but the creature showed no such hesitation. As it continued to plod along with fixation, it let out a soft moan. This coincided with the fade-out of the current track of Ryan's mp3 player, which gave him pause.

To get a better listen, he fumbled for what he thought was the pause button. The smooth symmetrical design of the device, however, meant he ended up with a "smooth jazz" speaker balance. He felt a sudden force at his back, a jolt of something grabbing at his bookbag that jarred his headphones loose.

"What the f-"

Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he reacted to the assault. Leaning forward against the unknown force separated the bookbag slightly from his body. He quickly drew his left arm in and squirreled it through the strained shoulder strap, and then spun clockwise. The creature held onto the bookbag as Ryan ripped free and stumbled forward, unbalanced.

As Ryan regained his balance, the creature dropped the bag. There was a pause as the creature seemed to realize its target had shed the item like a second skin. Moaning loudly, it staggered forward once more with arms outstretched.

"Hey, whoa whoa whoa!", Ryan said defensively.

The blanket of night obscured all but the silhouette of the assailant. Ryan reached for his pocket knife, backpedaling quickly away from the unknown to the edge of the sidewalk.

"Listen, buddy, I don't want any trouble. You jus- aaack!"

He stepped backwards and lost his balance on the curb, tumbling backwards into the street. Lights blinded him as a vehicle quickly approached, blaring its horn. It swerved to miss him, and in doing so drove partially onto the sidewalk between Ryan and the monster.

There was a loud thunk as the front of the car collided with the creature. Flesh and bone smacked violently onto the hood. The airbags deployed with a burst of air, and Ryan took full advantage of the distraction, scrambling to his feet and darting across the street. He looked to put some distance between himself and the attacker, and used his knowledge of the surrounding area to slip behind a row of bushes. He paused, chest pounding, trying desperately to quiet his loud breathing. Scanning through the foliage for any other threats, he steeled his nerve to make a wild sprint for home.

He took a deep breath, took one last look around, and rushed parallel to the bushes to the end of the apartment complex. He took a sharp turn right, ran through an empty lot and between another pair of houses, skidding to a stop at the edge of the building near the drainpipe. A quick look past the corner to make sure the coast was clear, and he sprinted once more through a series of backyards. A fence marked the boundary of the last backyard, but he slid through a hole in the bottom and paused once more. His apartment was now in sight, just across the street.

Heart still pounding, he fumbled for his keys. The only lumination on this side of the fence was a nearby porch light, and he was content to try and find the door key until a moan in the distance sent him into a panic. He took off, nearly losing his keys in the process, sprinting wildly for his door. He reached his apartment unchallenged, and the only distraction from finding the right key was the need to keep an eye out for another attack.

The only copper-colored key on his keyring was the one, and he plunged it into the lock and twisted, shoving the door open as if the monster was at his back. He ripped the keys back out of the lock so fast it nearly snapped, and he slammed the door shut, locked it, and summarily collapsed against it.

Heart pounding, pulse racing, he waited several minutes for any sign of danger before relaxing even slightly. He pulled his phone from his pocket with shaky hands and dialed the campus police. The voice on the other end of the phone was less than comforting:

We're sorry. The Purdue Police Department is currently experiencing a high volume of calls. Please try again in a few minutes, or stay on the line and the first available representative will take your call.

"Damnit!" he said aloud in frustration. He hung up the phone with a face of disgust and pitched it across the room.

No longer immediately in danger, Ryan suddenly felt very tired and weak after such a run. He slowly rose to his feet, stumbled to the couch, and flopped down face first. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Several minutes later, he had drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

The gentle hum of the air conditioner obscured a low moan outside, just a few doors down.

Current Word Count: 5,250

Orwellian Update

2007-11-04T14:50:00.001-05:00

Reader

Fellow NaNoWriMo participant Andrew has spotted a few chronological inconsistencies/conflicts with my current timeframe, so I have retroactively shifted all the events forward a week. Sorry if that confuses you, but it makes a few things fit better (some of which you probably would not notice if you weren't a Purdue student, and maybe not even then, but I digress).

I'm trying to build up some plot before I get to the good juicy action. I hope you aren't as sick of this as I am already.

Additionally, I've added my current word count to the end of each post. Right now I'm slightly behind the finish-at-midnight on Nov. 30th pace, but I'm proud of what I've got so far. Gotta keep writing!

Chapter 3 - Dark Alley

2007-11-03T19:45:00.000-04:00

June 5th, 2008
4:06pm
Ryan's Apartment - Harrison Street

Seven red, five orange, and two blue Freeze Pops later, Ryan still felt overheated. He'd returned to his apartment and the single, aging window air conditioner did little to combat the sweltering heat and humidity. Curse this mass of curly hair, he thought as he sat on his bed, facing his box fan. Everything today feels so oppressed by the heat, like the world is moving slower. Everybody's getting testy and impatient, too. The humidity made his curls get frizzy and the fan blew them every which way, which was a tolerable annoyance given the ambient temperature.

He tried to pass the time by surfing the internet. Nobody's updated their blog, and I've read all my webcomics. "Geez," he said to aloud to no one "is Facebook really the most interesting website that's updated today?" He was about to find something else to do when he received an instant message:

GregS: Hey buddy. Gametime?

Damnit.

RyanG: Damnit. Well played, sir. What are you doing?

GregS: Just got off work. You?

RyanG: Absolutely nothing. I was about ready to do next week's homework out of pure boredom.
RyanG: Wait, I thought you were off today?

GregS: My boss called in sick. Said he had to stay home because his daughter woke up really sick today, and he doesn't know what's wrong with her.

RyanG: Bummer. Way to pick up the slack.

GregS: Wanna come over and rock out? Watch House reruns?

RyanG: Sounds great. Can you come pick me up?

GregS: No can do. Chad's borrowing my car because his is in the shop.

RyanG: No problem. I can take the trolley over, and it should be cool enough tonight to walk back. Be there in a bit, depending on when the trolley gets here.

GregS has signed off.

Ryan packed up a few video game essentials into his bookbag before putting on his flip-flops and heading outside. It was a short walk to the trolley station across from the Wood St. parking garage, but with the sun starting to dip lower in the sky casting long shadows, and the stuffy heat, the walk was eerily quiet.

I know there's usually less activity during the summer, but today seems especially dead Ryan thought as he waited for the trolley. He pulled his mp3 player out of his bookbag, not quite sure what songs he'd last loaded onto it. The first album was Avenged Sevenfold's City of Evil, which he felt was an abnormally hardcore soundtrack to something as mundane as hailing a trolley, better suited to doing something awesome.

Eventually the 5:30 route stopped by, and after squeezing past dozens of students not wanting to walk in the heat (he didn't blame them) Ryan rode past the shopping center, and down Chauncey Hill. A quick tug of the stop cord, and the trolley paused to let him out directly in front of the Wabash Landing movie theatre. This was was the closest he was going to get to Greg's apartment by way of public transport.

Ryan walked across the nearly empty parking lot in front of the Neon Cactus, knowing full well the walk back home would be treacherous - Thirsty Thursdays would mean huge crowds of inebriated students stumbling around. He walked around the far end of the strip mall to Greg's apartment in the complex behind.

Greg greeted him at the door with a cold can of Mt. Dew and a guitar. They started playing Guitar Hero III right away, 5-starring their favorite songs. They'd played the game so many times that for them it was less about beating the high score, and more about what they termed "style points". They tried to keep an unbroken string of notes while playing behind their backs, playing back to back, and liberal use of windmill and duckwalking through guitar duels until their fingers were aching.

After several hours of bothering the neighbors with a constant barrage of noise, they gave in to hunger. They ordered pizza and waited for the delivery while watching season two of Prison Break. Greg had seen it already, but didn't mind a seeing it again as Ryan caught up.

After a few episodes, with a decent walk still to go, Ryan said goodbye. He was much more comfortable outside now that the sun had gone down, though it was eerily quiet (except for a few scattered yells from drunks). Attempting to avoid the bar scene as much as possible, he stayed on the far side of the Cactus parking lot and walked along the bank of the Wabash. Passing the ice-skating rink on his way to the landing and Rt. 26, he felt a shiver along his spine.

He shrugged it off as just the cooler night air giving him a chill, but he did not notice the shadowy figure stalking him...

Current Word Count: 4,216

Nomenclature Clarification

2007-11-03T03:04:00.000-04:00

I just know I'm going to forget to use real names and slip into nicknames. For those of you unfamiliar with the Ship of Fools, I'm going to give you a quick summary:

Ryan - T.Rex
Renee - Kamikaze
Andrew - Peace
Eric - Beard
John C. - Cowboy
Stu - B.O.
Steve - Angel Hair
Brant - Rubble
Alex - SoG
Benji - Hallway
John T. - Tripod or Freshman
Kyle - Sweet Speak

Also, I'm adding a poll to the right sidebar. Cast your vote!

Chapter 2 - Delayed

2007-11-03T02:55:00.000-04:00

June 5th, 2008
12:35pm
Pappy's Sweet Shop

Jenny should be here by now, Ryan thought. Fighting back the sneaking suspicion something had happened to her, he pulled his cellphone from his pocket to check for a message he might've missed. Damn. No reception in the basement. Great, and my battery needs charged, too.

He tried to take his mind away from paranoia by pulling his big blue notebook from his bookbag. It contained all of his notes about the improv club, including the upcoming show for the summer. The Fools had booked an performance as the opening act for a Chicago comedian, and several retired members of the troupe had mentioned possibly reuniting and joining them on stage. The final head count of members, however, was far from set. Ryan reviewed who he knew would be here over the summer, who couldn't make it for sure, and who was a possibility.

It was just then when Jenny walked up and greeted him with a quick kiss on the cheek. "Hey sweetie, sorry about the delay. There was some sort of accident near Krannert, so my bus was delayed." She slid into the booth across from Ryan with a sigh.

"It's okay. The whole campus seems to be in a funk today - there was something in the paper about a drunk guy biting somebody. Anyway, I was just going over the roster for the upcoming Chicago Show."

"Oh yeah? Who all's gonna be in it?"

"Well, me, of course. Let's see" he scanned the checklist "Renee, Andrew and Eric, for sure. Stu's probably not going to make it. Kyle and John T. graduated, so they're out. Steve and Brant aren't staying here over the summer, but I'm pretty sure they said they would make it. John C. will be here. Benji and Alex are big question marks."

"Sounds like fun trying to plan all of that together. How about you keep working on that, and I'll get some lunch?"

"Sounds great," he said, pulling out his wallet "here's a twenty - get me a cheeseburger, fries, and a cherry coke, will ya?"

"Of course. Back in a few."

Ryan scribbled a few notes while Jenny waited in line for lunch. She returned with a pair of burgers, cokes, and a large plate of fries.

"I've got a quiz I need to study for, okay?" Jenny said, removing a large packet of notes from her bulging bookbag.

"Sure. Is that the only other thing you have today?"

"Well, I've got my afternoon class with the quiz, and then a group meeting, and I work tonight at Hillenbrand. There's a huge bunch of people moving into the hall for a conference and I'm on duty."

"Can I come over and keep you company?" he asked between bites of fries.

"I don't think that'd be the best idea. I have a lesson plan to write and rounds, so I'm gonna be really busy. Perhaps this weekend we can hang out, instead?"

Ryan sighed. "Okay. I guess I'll try and get a hold of the Fools and find out for sure who will be here. I just hate how lonely my apartment is right now." His roommate John had graduated and was working in Michigan at a reactor, so his room was just empty until the lease ended in August. Ryan's other current roommate, Alex, was out of town visiting his girlfriend Steph. "Even our upstairs neighbors are gone for the summer, I guess. I saw a moving truck outside last week and it's been really quiet for once."

She paused to swallow the last bite of burger before noting "At least you don't have to deal with their shitty music past midnight anymore."

"True. I definitely enjoy having the freedom to crank up and rock out."

They continued to chat while they finished lunch. Finally, as the clock neared 1:15, Jenny put away her notes. "Well," she said "I think it's about time for me to get to class. Thanks for lunch."

"No problem. I hope your quiz and group meeting goes well. Have fun at work tonight, too."

"And you have fun tonight. Why don't you try and invite some of the Fools over and do something? Play a game of Settlers of Catan, perhaps?"

"We'll see."

Ryan watched as Jennifer packed up her things and left. Little did he know that he might never see her again...

Current Word Count: 3,400

Tentative Title

2007-11-02T21:58:00.001-04:00

With the help of my sis, I've got a title. I'm still not sure, so I will call it a working title for now. I would solicit suggestions, but perhaps you [the reader] want to read more story, first.

Chapter 1 - Press Coverage

2007-11-02T16:54:00.001-04:00

June 5th, 2008
11:47am
Neil Armstrong Hall of Engineering, room 180

"If you look on page 72 of your text, ladies and gentleman, you will see a diagram of what is called a 'normal' distribution." said the TA

This is so boring, Ryan thought as he sat through yet another day of IE 230. I've already taken AP statistics and I already know this stuff. It looks like a perfect day, and I'm stuck inside with summer classes. At least it's a technical elective, and not another thermo class. Just four weeks of this and I'll be that much closer to finishing my degree. It wouldn't be so bad if class wasn't two freakin' hours long.

Looking around for something to do, Ryan spied a newspaper on the floor next to his neighbor. "Pssst" he called to the barely-awake girl.

"What?" she hissed back.

"Can I have your The Exponent?"

"Whatever." She kicked it across the floor.

Ryan stealthily folded the student paper under the desk so that the seventh page corner was on top. He waited until the TA was facing the board to flip the paper onto the desk. He clicked forth some graphite at the tip of his pencil in anticipation - only to be disappointed to find the sudoku had already been solved. In ink.

Damnit, I should've seen that coming. Ryan thought. I've already done the reading for this class, and the homework for Friday. I wonder what else is going on this week at Purdue.

Ryan scanned the newspaper quietly, taking advantage of his rear seat in the large lecture room to hide his alternate reading material. The most interesting news story was on page three:

Party Animal Crashes Late Night Gathering
By Jason DeSoto, Assistant Campus Editor

West Lafayette Police responded to a disturbance call at a Harrison Street residence late last night. The authorities were phoned in by irate neighbors after "screaming and loud moaning" were heard for several minutes. When units arrived on scene, officers found one student had attacked other party goers after showing up late.

Doug Erickson, a senior in the College of Technology said "we didn't recognize him at first, but we offered him something to drink...he kinda went crazy and got all up in our faces". Officers subdued the offender, who was reported as "extremely lethargic and uncooperative" with suspected blood alcohol levels well over the legal limit.

Property damage was minimal. Four students and one officer were taken to Purdue University Student Health Center for treatment of lacerations and bites. All but one were released this morning, she remains in good condition.

There were a few other minor headlines, including:

Purdue to Host Biochemistry Colloquium

Electrical Problems at Lynn Hall

Above Average Temperatures Strain Facilities

Graduate Student Reported Missing

Coach Tiller's Offseason Thoughts

Purdue Prepares to Welcome New Administrator

Ryan grew restless as the minutes ticked by and the TA droned on. Finally noon rolled around, and the lecture ended. He packed up his notebook, shouldered his bookbag, and headed through the Engineering Mall, at one point contemplating an impromptu fountain run. Resisting the siren call of the cool water spray, he headed past the Bell Tower to the Union for a lunch date with Jenny.

Taking advantage of the Stewart Center's a/c was a top priority. Unfortunately, this slight detour meant running into a throng of people in line for a presentation by the Dean of Students in Loeb Theater. The presentation didn't start until 12:30, apparently, and the people in the line grew restless. They stood uncomfortably close, crowded against each other because of maintenance work in the same hallway.

"Excuse me, pardon me, comin' through" Ryan tried politely to squeeze through the mass of people. Jeez, he thought I never knew this guy was so popular. It's like the Day of the Dean or something.

Finally through the mindless horde, he ducked into a stairwell and headed downstairs, passing underground to reach the Union. Not only was it less crowded, but it was air-conditioned and out of the blazing sun.

He emerged directly across from the recently renovated Villa Pizza. Getting out of class at the top of the hour did have it's advantages -most of the students would be out and about between 12:20 and 12:30, and glancing at the clock on the wall Ryan saw he still had a few minutes before Jenny's class let out. He walked briskly past several studying students sipping Starbucks.

Across from the arcade, Ryan entered Pappy's, grabbed a booth near the back and waited for Jenny to arrive.

Current Word Count: 2,670

Prologue 2

2007-11-02T00:20:00.000-04:00

June 4th, 2008
2:45am
Pranav's secret lab

"Roger?" Pranav asked, nervously shouldering a large file cabinet over the defective door.

Silence greeted him.

"Typical. I got here late because I had another paper to work on, okay? I'm sorry." He shined a flashlight slowly around the room, seeing the familiar grey tarps blanketing parts of the room, some with a bit of unfamiliar plaster over them. Counting, he came up one short, and couldn't figure out why. He nervously fumbled for the light switch on the nearby wall and clicked it on.

"Damn it, this place is falling apart. It's no wonder it's not being used. Roger, are you okay?" Pranav surveyed the damage. Part of the roof showed signs of water damage, and a few ceiling tiles had fallen apart, coating his precious experiment with bits of plaster and exposing some pipes and electrical wires. The wires dangled lifelessly into the room. Roger's gurney wasn't there.

Walking closer, he saw that a rather large chunk of a support beam had corroded away and fallen, creating the hole. He panicked, searching the area frantically before noticing a familiar grey tarp at the back of the dim room.

"Roger, did you try and get away from me?" He marched back to the shadowy recesses and was relieved to find the tarp-covered gurney had wheeled behind a desk, probably because of a bit of the ceiling falling. He gently steered Roger back to the lab benches and drew back the tarp.

Roger remained lifeless, lying on the gurney with small colored patches over his arms, legs, and torso where Pranav's samples had been tested. Most looked benign, but a few had either burned away the tissue or had reacted in some way.

"Ooooh, what have we here?" Pranav said, excited that any tests showed signs of life. He recorded the results in his notebook, and took a close-up picture of each test patch in sequence with a digital camera. He washed his hands and pulled on a pair of surgical gloves before pulling a small kit from his bookbag. Opening it, he gently extracted a scalpel, and turned towards Roger.

"This might hurt a little bit, Roger. Look away." Pranav tried to force the skull to look the opposite direction, but found that rigor mortis left the neck quite stiff. He struggled against it, grunting, before a wet snap finally echoed through the room.

"You big dummy! Watch what you're doing! ...sorry, Roger, that was to me, not you."

Pranav carefully sliced a small sample from the first test site on the corpse and ran it under one of the microscopes on the lab bench.

"Dang. Nothing. Oh well, we've still got 49 other promising samples to take, right buddy?"

Silence.

"Oh, it sounds like somebody is a little sore about the neck thing. I'm sorry, okay? It was an accident. Another pinch." Pranav consoled the cadaver as he took the next sample, and ran it under the microscope again.

This continued on for some time. Test samples 21, 23, 30-35, and 42 all showed signs of promise, he noted in his notebook. The last one, in particular, seemed to almost move under the microscope, a most unusual response. He noted this in his notebook before wiping his brow. His nose rankled at the scent that seemed to hang in the air.

"Geez, Roger. What did I tell you about the smell? You're gonna get us caught."

Roger stared at the wall, unapologetic.

Frustrated, Pranav decided to risk turning on the vents, if only for a few minutes to clear the stagnant air in the basement. He went to the far end of the room and studied for a moment the panel of controls near the instructor's desk.

"Hrmm...let's see...I'll try 'medium' ventilation" he said as he clicked the dial twice to the right. A moderate hum seemed like a deafening roar in the otherwise quiet basement. The additional power use made the dangling wires in the middle of the room spark, and the lights flickered. Looking around nervously, Pranav's nose tickled once more.

"Roger, this isn't going to work. The vents are so old they're just blowing around stale air. I can't risk the noise of medium, either. We'll try the low setting, and open the door just a crack, okay?"

Roger did not object.

Pranav adjusted the vent system and shouldered the cabinet to the side, leaving the door slightly ajar before going back to work. He removed his gloves and pulled a large textbook that was falling apart from his bag and set it on the counter.

"Don't give me that look, Roger. Professor Anderson has a giant ego - that's why he insists on writing his own book for the class, and making pointless updates each year to keep his grad students poor. I'm sure this book will work just fine." He paused to inspect the faded cover. "I'm sure this, uh, G. Ramero guy was a very respected author in his day."

A pause.

"No, Roger, I ordered it online. It was even cheaper that way. Don't you give me that tone - I had to pay some pretty important people to look the other way to set up this little experiment."

Scanning the textbook, Pranav made note of several characteristics of the samples. He scanned the next chapter, and spent a few minutes searching the cabinets for exotic chemicals required for the next part. Gathering them, he mixed precise amounts into a large beaker to prepare a special concoction.

I've never heard of this in my other classes before, he thought as he sniffed the slightly less pungent air. He stopped to read aloud, a nervous habit he had when he needed to concentrate.

"Create a small incision at the base of the neck, blah blah blah, inject the solution into the flap at the juncture of the cervical and thoracic vertebrae...got it. Slice n' pour. Well, Roger, that means we're going to have to flip you over."

Roger remained mute.

Grunting, Pranav managed to turn the stiff remains over on the gurney. Holding the beaker of solution in his left hand, and the scalpel in his right, he braced himself against an odor that was worse now that Roger was face-down. Hoping to avoid inhaling much more, he quickly cut into Roger's neck about where he thought it should go, and poured the solution over the incision.

Roger's body did not react well to being moved in such a manner. As the solution coursed through his slowly decaying body, what was left of his internal organs succumbed to gravity and shifted. The massive mound of tissue sloughed downward in his chest cavity, and because of the undrained amount of body fluid still pooled inside his lungs, the result was a sickening loud splorch. This was followed by a dark red ooze that flowed from Roger's body orifices.

Pranav, however, was unaware of such biological nuances, and was caught off guard by the sudden and disgusting sights and sounds. Startled, he dropped the beaker on the floor as his right arm flew back in horror. The scalpel in his hand connected with the dangling live wires from the ceiling, his other hand resting on Roger's shoulder. Sounds of the shattering beaker went unheard as thousands of volts of electricity coursed through Pranav Lee's fragile body and found their way into Roger's bloated corpse.

Pranav collapsed onto the floor as the stench of burnt flesh hung in the air.

Current Word Count: 1,906

Prologue 1

2007-11-01T22:17:00.000-04:00

June 3rd, 2008
3:04am
In an abandoned basement lab, deep in the heart of Purdue's campus...

Pranav Lee gently squeezed the bulb and released precisely seven droplets of green fluid into the otherwise crystal clear solution. He then methodically adjusted the bunsen burner to a whiter flame and set the timer to count backwards from seven minutes.

"Professor Anderson kept telling me my thesis wasn't radical enough. Kept telling me I wasn't breaking any new ground. Well I'll show him, Roger. We'll show him, together! Isn't that right, Roger?"

Roger the corpse stared back at him, lifeless.

"That's okay, Roger. Just a few more minutes and I can try Test Solution #21. Where would you like it this time? On the arm, perhaps?"

No response.

"Oh, you'd like that very much, wouldn't you, Roger?"

Still no response.

"Don't let me forget, Roger, to turn out the light when I leave. Last night we almost got caught because of your shenanigans. It's a good thing nobody uses this lab anymore, because the door doesn't shut quite right. You be good when I'm at class, okay?"

Roger's lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling.

Startled by the quiet beeping of the timer, Pranav jumped and looked around suspiciously before scribbling some notes into his lab book.

"Professor Anderson always liked good note-takers, Roger. Said the only way to prove a new theory was to record everything so it could be tested and repeated." he said as he grabbed the beaker of light green fluid with a pair of tongs. Gently pouring a few drops onto Roger's arm, the hot liquid sizzled on the dead flesh and produced an acrid odor that caused Pranav to recoil. He returned the liquid to the stand and noted the result, before measuring out more white powder from an unmarked container.

"Pop quiz, Roger. What is Professor Anderson's wife's name?"

Silence.

"Ooooh, I'm sorry. Time is up and I'm afraid the correct response is 'Bethany'. Would you like to risk all of your winnings for a second chance question?"

No response.

"Fair enough. I know it's hard to concentrate when the samples haven't been working very well lately. Maybe the next batch will work better - I'm going to try increasing the ratio of scopolamine to catechol-o-methyl. Perhaps that will generate some response."

The next hour passed in relative silence as the two continued testing various combinations of the chemicals Pranav had smuggled into the building over the past semester.

"The Exponent says that this week is gonna be extra hot, and since everybody thinks this lab isn't being used, I need you to try not to stink up the place while I'm gone, okay Roger?"

Roger said nothing.

"Atta boy. Whew, you already smell pretty rank. I wish I could turn on the ventilation hoods, but I'm already risking a lot using the outlets for the lab equipment. It'll be worth it, though, if I can prove my theory. Anderson will be old news, and I'll rub it in his face."

After carefully washing his hands, Pranav pulled large tarps over his work-in progress before pulling his backpack on. He pulled the last tarp over the gurney.

"Goodnight, Roger. Sleep well."

Current Word Count: 652

Dedication

2007-11-01T13:31:00.001-04:00

This novel is dedicated to several influential groups of people in my life:

My family, for not only encouraging my love of reading, language, literature, and writing, but for also shaping my humor style, wit, and other intellectual processes.

My teachers, for attempting to instill in me some working knowledge of English, even if I still don't know for sure what a gerund is or still mix up "it's" and "its". I still sing School House Rock in my head to remember parts of speech.

The Ship of Fools - the bulk of my current group of collegiate friends. This novel is based on and revolves around them. Thanks for all of the funny, guys.

---

Additionally, I would like to thank Max Brooks (author of the Zombie Survival Guide), George Romero, Sam Raimi, and the creative forces behind Resident Evil and Dead Rising for the influence and entertainment.

The characters and incidents portrayed and the names herein are fictitious and any similarity to the name or history of any person living or undead is entirely coincidental and unintended.

Word Count: 116

Official Introductions

2007-11-01T12:01:00.000-04:00

Hello all, my name is Ryan and I'm a Purdue University student. I will be posting to this blog chapters of my first attempt at National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. My writer profile can be found here.

My goal is to post about every other day. I'm shooting for 50,000 words before November 30th, at midnight. That's an average of 1666.66 words per day (!).

As of now I don't even have a working title, much less a detailed outline. I've just got an idea. For now, all you need to know is that my story takes place in the here and now.

I encourage all readers to comment. Tell me what you like, what you don't. Tell me if I make a mistake, and feel free to suggest things. If I get enough feedback, I may try put some polls on the right sidebar and YOU can influence the outcome of the story.

All writings contained on this weblog copyright Ryan Garwood, 2007.