'Come here, little mouse.'
'Somebody help me!'
'One blind mouse. See how it runs ...'
'Leave me alone!'
Val turned in the darkness, seeking only to escape the stench and that horrible, grating voice. She ran, hearing the unmistakable sound of a racking shotgun. She fled, sightless and crippled from the pain and shock.
'Please,' she sobbed. 'Somebody-'
Still running, she tumbled down the open elevator shaft.
Ob and his lieutenants strolled through the burned-out lobby, stepping over the smoldering ruins and surveying the damage. Above them, the slaughter continued.
Relentless, the undead hordes pressed forward, murdering every living creature in their path-humans hiding in apartments and offices, cowering in bathroom stalls and ventilation ducts, and making a stand in the hallways and stairwells. For the most part, the killings were quick and efficient, but some of the Siqqusim who had remained trapped in the Void for a lengthier time than their brothers stopped to feed, relishing the moment.
The residents of Ramsey Towers fought back; cab drivers and models and clerical assistants and telemarketers- all turned warriors in the face of their own extinction. Both the living and the dead suffered heavy casualties, and pieces of human wreckage littered the building. But for every walking corpse that was destroyed, four more rose up to take its place. The bodies of the recently dead returned, hunting down their former friends, family members, and lovers. Methodically, the creatures swept through each floor of the building, choking the passageways with their presence and leaving abominations in their wake. Slowly, they worked their way to the top.
Bates and Steve emerged from the armory, each carrying a flamethrower.
Their backs were strapped with lightweight canisters full of jellied gasoline. Bates had used one in Iraq, and had seen the liquid fire melt skin and bones.
They ran down the hall and straight into a massacre. Thirty feet away from them, ten zombies stood in a circle feasting upon the gored remains of three adults and two children that lay in a dismembered pile between them. Absorbed in their meal, the creatures didn't notice their approach. Quickly, the men ducked out of sight, and watched, deciding what to do next.
'We should move on,' one of the creatures grunted around a mouthful of liver.
'I'm hungry,' another moaned, carving a layer of yellow fat from one of the children. 'Let's finish eating first. I haven't had man flesh for three days.'
A third elbowed its companion out of the way, and wrenched the heart from another body.
'We must continue,' the first one insisted. 'We can enjoy these spoils later.'
'Not until we replenish ourselves. I waited longer than you for release from the Void. I will eat my fill!'
Another zombie held up one of the children's arms like it was a chicken leg, and greedily bit into the bicep.
'Try this first.' It smacked its lips, nudging the first one. 'The children are much more succulent than the adults. Have a bite before we move on.'
'Ob's orders were to-'
Bates and Steve leapt out, and pulled their triggers at the same time.
The flames whipped toward the clustered zombies, incinerating them in mid-feast. They howled, not in pain, but in enraged confusion. Two of the corpses stumbled forward, scorching the floor with every halting step. Bates directed the flame toward them, and they crumbled. Nothing remained but burning meat.
Steve turned away and retched. In the ceiling above them, the sprinkler system kicked in, drenching them both.
'Bates,' Steve gasped. 'I can't take this anymore, man. I can't...'
'With luck, it will all be over soon.' 'You think so? Because I sure don't see it.' Without a word, Bates flicked his wet hair from his face and led Steve toward the stairwell.
Dr. Stern was inside an elevator between the twenty-seventh and twenty-eighth floors when the power went out. He froze, terrified that the car would plummet to the bottom of the shaft. When he realized it was still suspended safely by its cables, he breathed a sigh of relief.
He pressed the emergency call button, not expecting results and not receiving any. He tried the radio clipped to his belt, but there was no response. Then he waited, wondering what to do next. He studied his M-16, refamiliarizing himself with the weapon. He recited from memory the crash course that Forrest had given him. He listened, hoping to hear voices, footsteps, anything that would indicate that somebody was aware of his predicament.
Nobody came.
The air inside the elevator grew hot. Stern removed his shirt and mopped his brow, trying not to panic. His throat felt dry and scratchy. His eyes seemed to swell, as did his hands and fingers. His ears burned and it was suddenly hard to breathe.
My blood pressure is up, he thought. Need to calm down, think rationally, and get the hell out of here.
He tried the radio again. There was a burst of static, and then a garbled voice. He listened carefully, but couldn't make out what the other person was saying.
'Bates? This is Stern. Do you copy?'
Something unintelligible.
'This is Dr. Stern. I'm trapped in an elevator. Can anyone hear me?'
