remembering the dead rats that had poured out of the hole earlier. Don and Quinn eased down on the cable, setting the cover to the side. The shaft was empty, the ladder rungs disappearing into the dark. All of them breathed a sigh of relief.
'Block the doors,' Forrest ordered. 'Boxes, crates, anything heavy.'
Steve, Don, Jim, and Frankie began stacking things in front of them.
'Bates?' Quinn turned back to him. 'We can't just leave you behind.'
'You ...' Bates couldn't finish. He broke into a fit of violent coughing. Blood sprayed from his mouth and oozed from the gunshot wound.
'Bates made his decision,' Forrest grunted. 'And he's right. We can't waste any more time.'
'But he's our friend.'
'You think I don't fucking know that, Quinn?' Forrest exploded. 'There isn't anything we can do! Now move!'
They finished with the blockades. Frankie found a pair of ratty old work boots that fit her feet, and changed out of her hospital slippers.
God sniffed the open shaft and meowed.
'I found some glow sticks on that workbench over there,' Pigpen said.
'Figure they'll come in handy.'
Nobody responded.
Suddenly, the stairwells thundered with sound, the doors vibrating on their hinges.
'Here they come!' Etta screamed.
'How many?' Forrest asked.
Frankie pointed her weapon at the door. 'All of them. And this barricaded door ain't gonna stop them for long.'
'Go,' Bates urged them. 'I'll ... hold them off when ...'
They gathered around him, unsure of what to say. Pigpen broke the silence.
'Thanks.'
Bates nodded, clenching his fists in pain.
Pigpen clicked on the flashlight and quickly started down the ladder.
God perched on his shoulders, entwining around his neck. Leroy and Etta said their goodbyes and climbed along behind him. Smokey went next, followed by Frankie. Danny climbed down after her, and Jim prepared to follow.
The approaching din grew louder.
'Mr. Thurmond?' Bates wheezed.
Jim stopped, his head and shoulders sticking out of the shaft.
'I... hope it turns out ... okay ... for you and your ... son. Your story is ... an inspiration.'
Jim nodded sadly. 'Thank you, Bates.'
He vanished from sight.
Steve, Quinn, and Forrest stood over their dying leader.
'No time ... for ... regrets. Just go. Hurry ...'
Steve and Quinn walked away, leaving Forrest and Bates alone. They didn't look back.
The zombies began pounding on the door.
Forrest knelt down and wrapped Bates's fingers around the butt of the pistol. He held them firm, and stared into his friend's clouding eyes.
'You've got six shots in there. Don't forget to save one for yourself.'
'Got... it...'
Tears ran freely from Forrest's eyes.
'Been a pleasure to serve with you, Bates.'
Bates smiled. 'The honor ... was mine.'
'Semper fi.'
'Ooo rah ...'
Forrest swung his legs over the shaft and climbed down the ladder. With one hand, he grabbed the cable threaded through the manhole cover and pulled it shut behind him. The last thing he saw was his friend, lying in a pool of blood, eyes half-closed. Forrest let go of the rungs and dropped the last six feet, his boots thudding on the cement.
They crowded together in the tunnel. The impenetrable darkness increased their anxiety. Pigpen handed each of them a glow stick, and fastened another one to God's collar.
'This way,' Pigpen said, pointing the flashlight beam into the blackness. God ran ahead, his tiny paws splashing through a pool of water. They followed.
