Heard everything you and the old man were saying.'
'Fuck you, Carson. Ramsey had me at gunpoint! What was I supposed to do?'
A radio clipped to Quinn's belt emitted a burst of static. Jim heard Bates's voice calling the pilot.
Quinn ignored it, his eyes not moving from DiMassi's.
'Come on, man, let the kid go. Hasn't he been through enough? Haven't we all?'
'And let you shoot me, the way you did Mr. Ramsey? I don't think so, Quinn.'
On the floor, Ramsey groaned. Something gray and wet slipped from his belly. He tried to stuff it back in, but it flopped back out again.
With DiMassi's attention distracted, Jim inched toward Danny and Frankie.
The other young soldier spoke up. 'DiMassi, the zombies are inside the fucking building. It's only a matter of time before they make it up here. Let's figure this shit out together. Let the kid go. He hasn't done anything to you.'
'You're lying, Branson,' DiMassi said, but sounded uncertain. 'If they were in the building already, we'd be dead.'
'We will be soon, you idiot,' Quinn snapped. 'Jesus-can't you smell the smoke? Hear those fire alarms going off?'
'The building's fireproofed. It can't spread between floors.'
'Didn't you hear the fucking explosions or feel the building sway?
They're shelling us, you asshole! Fires are breaking out all over.'
At that moment, the lights in the hallway flickered, and then vanished.
The emergency lighting kicked in, casting an eerie red glow.
Jim took another step toward DiMassi.
Shoulders sagging, DiMassi let go of the boy. Carson and Quinn covered him with their rifles.
Danny ran to his father. Jim hugged him tight and made sure he was unharmed.
'Looks like you've saved us twice now, Quinn. Thanks.'
'Thank me later, Jim. We've still got to get out of this building.'
'Is it really as bad as you said?' Jim asked, removing Frankie's gag.
'Probably worse,' Branson quipped.
Quinn nodded at Ramsey's unmoving body. 'Check him out, Branson. I got him in the gut. Finish him off.'
Jim undid Frankie's bonds. 'You okay? Your nose is bleeding.'
'Fat bastard kneed me in it when I was going for his balls, but yeah, I'm okay.'
'Thank God. I was worried we'd lost you, just like Martin.'
At the mention of his name, Frankie started to tell Jim about her dreams. But before she could, he turned to DiMassi.
'You think you're a big man, beating up on women and children?'
'Hey,' Frankie protested, 'he sucker punched me, or else I could have taken him myself.'
'I was just following orders,' DiMassi defended himself. 'That's all.'
Jim's voice was like ice. 'Following orders? We've seen what happens when men like you follow orders. You shouldn't have touched my boy, you son of a bitch.'
Quinn slid between them. 'Jim, let me handle this. And Branson, hurry up with Ramsey, before he gets back up.'
Branson prodded Ramsey with the barrel of his rifle. When there was no response, he cautiously knelt down beside him. The old man's eyes stared sightlessly.
'Be a shame to let this gold Rolex go to waste. Can I have it, Quinn?'
Ramsey's eyes blinked.
Before Quinn could answer, Ramsey's corpse sat up and knocked the rifle aside. His intestines boiled from the hole in his stomach, splattering onto the floor. His teeth sank into Branson's wrist. The young soldier screamed.
Using the distraction, DiMassi shoved Jim and Quinn out of the way and bolted for the stairwell.
'Carson,' Quinn shouted, 'Get him. Shoot him if you have to!' Then he grabbed Branson's shirt collar and pulled him backward. A hunk of Branson's flesh disappeared down the zombie's throat. Blood dripped from the ugly wound in Branson's arm.
'I have come to join my brothers,' the thing that had
been Ramsey hissed. 'As shall you all. We are undefeatable!'
The rifle kicked against Quinn's shoulder, and the zombie's head exploded. Ramsey fell to the floor a second time.
'Your building was supposed to be undefeatable too, you son of a bitch.'
Carson took off down the hall in pursuit of DiMassi.
