“I have no idea why I missed you,” he said as he got in next to me.
“You think I should come over there, too?” Gary asked.
I was about to tell him ‘sure’, then we all froze when we heard the doorknob to the basement door moving.
“Bitch left it unlocked,” BT growled.
“Someday she’ll get hers. Let’s just make sure her plan goes awry.”
“Awry, funny word,” BT said, and that was it.
Whoever was on the other side of the door was being cautious and I guess I couldn’t really fault them that. The door cracked open an inch or two and light from a cracking dawn sliced a wedge into the basement.
“Lockner, Trent, you two to the left. Ranks, Hubner to the right. Remember…quiet,” their leader said. In the soundless, holding-breath-stillness of the basement, we heard them clearly.
BT put his rifle up; I put my hand on his trigger hand, letting him know I wanted him to wait. Two figures came in and quickly went to the left where their biggest cover was a small file cabinet and lamp. The two heading to the right would actually have some cover as the bathroom was there. I was not going to give them the chance to get their foothold. As soon as they came in and began their deadly migration I opened fire, as did Gary and BT.
Only one of the men even got the chance to fire off a shot, which ended up in the ceiling as a round caught him flush in the kneecap and sent him crashing to the floor. The basement door slammed shut when whoever was on the other side figured out they had walked into an ambush.
We were bathed once again in darkness. At least one of the men I had been shooting at was down for eternity (or at least as long as it took to cycle through a reincarnation depending on your beliefs). I think the one still moaning—if the acoustics were correct in my brother’s basement—was on my side. BT and Gary had been shooting to the left and I had seen multiple crimson blood sprays strike the wall.
“Gary, go upstairs and turn on the light,” I told him.
“You sure, Mike?” he asked.
“You feel like puking?” I asked him.
“Not really.”
“Then go upstairs and turn on the light.”
He again smacked into the freezer as he went passed. “Damn thing,” he said as he stopped to massage his shin.
“Do you think he’s going to need help with that light?” BT asked me.
“BT, you can go, too. I won’t think any less of you.”
“What’s that mean? That you already think so lowly of me that it can’t sink any further?”
“Relax, big man, I’m in no rush to see our handiwork either.”
“That obvious? It’s just killing men…it doesn’t sit right.”
“I know, man,” I told him as the light popped on. It didn’t take long for my eyes to adjust to the carnage on the other side of the basement.
“Mike?” Ron asked, shouting down.
“Four down, three for good,” I yelled. “At least three left, they are under the deck.”
“You need help?” he asked.
“No.” I swallowed. “I’ll take care of it.”
The wall looked like impressionistic art; red was splashed across it like an angry Jackson Pollack had flung the excess against his canvas. I had one headshot on my side, and rapidly graying pink matter was clumped on the wall. It looked like a handhold on those fake rock walls they have in some sporting goods stores. That was the thought I was planning on holding on to. BT had turned away. I cautiously approached; the man who had been knee-shot was still writhing in agony.
I kicked his gun away from him even though he was paying it absolutely no attention. He was going into shock, his eyes pleaded with me for help. I quickly checked the other three for any signs of life. I needn’t have wasted my time. I had drilled one in the eye, his one remaining blue eye gazed up at a Heaven I’m sure he would never see. The two on the left had taken primarily body shots, blood leaked out from at least five or six wounds on each.
“Please help me,” the kneed man begged.
“BT, could you maybe get some bags and cleaning material?” I asked, turning back towards him.
“You sure, man? You have a funny look on your face.”
“I’m good,” I said as I turned back to the attempted usurper. I stepped over him and threw the heavy locking bar in place
I waited until BT was up the stairs, then got down on my haunches next to him. “How many of you were there? Just so you get your math correct, three are now dead.”
“Please, I just need some help,” he asked, licking his lips.
“If the roles were reversed, would you help me? Because I seriously doubt it, especially since you came into my brother’s house and tried to kill us.”
He flinched slightly. “Please.”
“I value your life
“Five…there were five.”
“I don’t know why I would expect a potential murderer to tell the truth.” I put my rifle down making sure the muzzle was pointing straight at his head. His eyes crossed as he stared down the bore. His hands were clamped against his shattered patella, which was fine, it wasn’t my target anyway.
“What are you doing?” he asked as his eyes got big.
I clamped one of my hands over his mouth; he started to shake his head back and forth. “Stop,” I told him through clenched teeth, “or I’m just going to blow a hole in your face and be done with it.” He must have seen something in the set of my eyes because he did stop. “You see, there are kids upstairs, and whereas I know you don’t give a shit because you were going to kill them, I care a lot. I don’t want them to be exposed to what I am about to do.” I clamped my hand harder over his face and quickly reached behind his damaged knee and started poking and prodding the wound, wiggling loose bone fragments and torn tendons around.
Tears streamed from his face as his screams were muffled in my hand. His breathing was hitching heavily he was in so much pain. His eyes started to close when, with a pop, I pulled two fingers from the back of his leg. I removed my mouth clamp and slapped him hard across the face.
“Don’t pass out on me, champ,” I told him.
“Please,” he begged quietly.
“How many?”
“Ten…there were ten of us.”
“How many truck drivers total?”
“I’m not sure...wait!” he said as I began to move my hand back in place over his mouth. “Over eighty…maybe a hundred.”
“How many zombies?”
“Fifteen, sixteen thousand. I think I heard Kong tell the lady running all of this. She’s...she’s the one you need to watch out for.”
“Yeah, I’m well aware of that.”
“I told you everything, please can I get some help now.”
I stood up and stepped over his body, I rapped on the steel reinforced door. “Hey, shitheads!” I yelled. “I know there’s still six of you out there, want to know how I know.” No response. “Because one is still alive, mostly. Not for long, though, I imagine. Shock alone will probably take him in the next twenty minutes or so.”
Another long wait, I did not think they would respond. “Who is it?” one of the men asked.
“What’s your name?” I asked the guy on the ground, I had to nudge him with my foot. It looked like he was going into pass out mode again.
“Adam,” he rasped.
“Adam,” I repeated.
“If you kill my brother, I’ll gut you like a fish!” the man yelled through the door.
