'I say we make for that,' Etta said. 'Get up to the roof and the helicopter.'
'Who the hell is gonna fly it?' Leroy scoffed. 'Ain't none of us know how to pilot that thing.'
More bullets chewed up the barricade.
'Well, we can't stay here,' Don yelled. 'Let's go.'
Still crouched down, he turned to run and then froze. Four more zombies were creeping up behind them. None of the creatures were armed with ranged weapons, but each carried a knife or club.
'They flanked us!'
With a triumphant cry, the zombies to their front charged. A second later, an explosion went off in their midst. Shrapnel and bits of pulped flesh showered down upon the group. Leroy cried out, hands flailing as a hot fragment of metal scorched his forearm. The stench of his burned flesh filled the air. The zombies to their rear pulled back, hesitating.
'Make a hole, motherfuckers,' Forrest shouted. He clutched another grenade in one beefy hand. The other held an M-16.
Pigpen stepped out from behind him and drove an axe through the forehead of a zombie crawling across the floor. God poked his furry head out of a backpack slung over the vagrant's shoulders.
Smokey and Don took advantage of the four remaining creatures' hesitation and gunned them down. Then they stood up.
'God damn, it's good to see you, Forrest!' Leroy grasped his hand, and then winced, favoring his forearm.
'Good to see you guys alive too. Now let's move.'
Etta grabbed Leroy's arm, her face concerned. 'You gonna be okay?'
'It hurts like a bitch, but I'm fine.'
'No time to talk,' Forrest insisted. 'They're all over the place. We need to go, now.'
'Where?' Don asked.
'The back fire stairs, and then the sub-basement.'
'And then,' Pigpen grinned, 'God will lead us out of here.'
Val finally left her post in the communications center. The radio traffic was becoming ominous-more attack orders from zombies than humans-and she figured it was time to bolt. Naval radio operators went down with the ship, but not her.
She crept down the corridor, wondering where Branson had gone, when a zombie bird slammed into her face. Screaming, she grabbed the creature and flung it away. It smashed against the wall and crumpled to the floor. Val stomped it, feeling the bones snap beneath her feet.
The elevator doors at the end of the hallway stood open, revealing an empty shaft. The darkness inside the gaping hole wasn't just black, it was solid. From somewhere far below her, she heard muffled gunshots and explosions. A drought of warm air drifted from the empty shaft, brushing against her face. With it came smoke.
'Shit. Guess I can't go that way.'
Val retraced her steps down the darkened hallway. Something fluttered behind her. She turned around and stared at the shaft. The noise repeated itself, a dry, rustling sound.
'What the-'
Without warning, a dozen undead pigeons flew out of the dark hole, soaring down the hallway toward her. Val ran, fleeing their terrible, squawking cries. She felt claws rake at the back of her neck, and beat them away. Another bird snagged her hair, pulling out a clump by the roots. She pumped her legs faster, lengthening the distance between herself and her attackers. Her hand instinctively covered her abdomen, protecting her unborn baby.
She rounded a corner and slid to a halt. At the far end of the hall dozens of zombies were searching room to room. They hadn't noticed her.
Quickly, she tried the first door to her left. It was unlocked.
Val heaved herself into the room. Two birds made it through before she could slam the door shut. One launched itself at her face, and its razored beak clamped onto her eyelid and flew away. Val shrieked as it tore loose. The second bird darted for her lidless eyeball, plucking it from its socket.
Half-blind, Val grabbed a lamp from the table and swung it, clubbing the first bird to the floor. Still screaming, she smashed the other one against the wall. Both the lamp and the pigeon exploded. The first bird rose from the carpet and speared her other eye. The last thing she saw was the pointed beak. Then, everything vanished in a red cloud of pain.
She clutched at the bird, feeling the gore-matted feathers, her fingers tracing over her own eyeball before she squeezed both it and the bird into a pulp.
Doubled over with agony, Val crashed around the room, blindly searching for the door handle. She found it, and stumbled out into the hall. Blood streamed from her empty eye sockets. Part of her brain warned her that there were still zombies in the corridor, but she didn't care. Something flared inside her head. Hands held out in front of her, she weaved down the hallway, one shoulder sliding along the wall.
'Can somebody help me?' she sobbed.
The air stank of smoke and cordite-and rot. She smelled the creature before it spoke.
'Where are you going, bitch?'
'Please ...'
