While they waited for the plane to take off, the sounds of battle grew closer and closer. Soon, the dead overran the airport. As they taxied down the runway, Tara stared out the window.
People were running, pleading, throwing themselves in front of the aircraft while infected chased them down. Many had children with them or carried babies in their arms. A high-pitched whine sounded before another plane crashed to the ground, not far from them. The 747 went up in a ball of fire, and their plane wobbled from the blast of super-heated air that expanded outward with a boom.
At last, they lifted into the air and left the continent of Africa far behind. A diverse and beautiful place left to the mercy of the undead.
She’d hated the sensation of powerlessness then. The knowledge that she could do nothing but wait and wait. That same feeling had hold of her now, sapping her strength of will until she wanted to sob like a baby.
Her friends and loved ones were out there, fighting for her. Saul, Nick, Dylan, and Alex. They were all risking their lives for her. No more.
Tara straightened up as fresh resolve stiffened her spine. “I’m not doing nothing again. Not this time.”
She brushed away the tears that shimmered on her cheeks and stood up. From a built-in cupboard, she removed a belt and wrapped it around her waist. It carried a sheathed knife and a fully-loaded Beretta in a holster. The sawn-off double-barreled shotgun Saul had made for her months before followed, and she filled her pockets with extra shells.
With determined strides, she exited her office and made her way through the lab to the ground floor. Along the way, she encountered several colleagues, among them Selene. They were just as frightened and uneasy as she’d been, and she took a moment to reassure them.
“Selene, I’m leaving you in charge of the lab. Please, keep everyone calm and secure until this is all over,” Tara said.
“Where are you going?” Selene asked with wide eyes.
“I’m going to help.”
“But you can’t. It’s too dangerous,” Selene protested.
“I can, and I will,” Tara replied. As she was about to leave, a thought occurred to her. “One thing. I injected the rats in my lab with the vaccine I made and infected them with the Vita virus. You can check on them while I’m gone.”
“Alright,” Selene said. “I’ll do that for you.”
“Thanks,” Tara said, marching away. She didn’t have any faith in the vaccine. Not yet. But it would keep Selene occupied.
Inside the lobby, she encountered several guards, their numbers swollen by the extra soldiers Nick had assigned to the lab. They were watching the fighting outside with barely concealed impatience.
Greta spotted Tara and rushed over. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m going out,” Tara said.
“You can’t do that,” Greta protested.
“Yes, I can, and any of you who want to join me are welcome,” Tara said loudly, addressing the room.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but orders are orders,” one soldier said. “We’re here to ensure your safety. We cannot leave, and neither can you.”
“The lab will be safe whether we stay here or not,” Tara countered. “This place is built like a fort. Nothing is getting in or out without a key card and password.”
“That doesn’t change our orders, Ma’am,” the soldier replied, his expression obstinate.
“Listen here, err…what’s your name?”
“Daniel,” he said.
“Listen, Daniel. People are dying out there. My friends and your friends are falling while we sit here doing nothing. Now, I am going out there even if I have to shoot you. You can join me or not, your choice, but I’m leaving,” Tara said, raising her chin.
Daniel regarded her for a couple of seconds before he grinned. “I’ll take it, Ma’am. Let’s go kick some zombie ass!”
The rest of the soldiers and guards howled in assent, and together they approached the exit. Tara peered through the clear glass, not sure what her next move should be. She was certain an opportunity would present itself, however, so she opened the door. They exited the building and crowded in front of it while Tara secured the door.
The breaking of glass and shrill screams drew her attention to the infirmary where a crowd of the undead mobbed the entrance. Somehow, they’d gotten past Nick’s defenses and stormed the hospital.
“Over there,” she cried, pointing at the zombies that thronged the building.
Daniel took the lead, directing his team to open fire. A barrage of bullets cut through the infected’s ranks. Two more volleys thinned their numbers considerably, but more were already inside.
“Follow me,” Daniel cried, and they stormed the infirmary en-masse. Tara lagged, not wanting to get in the soldiers’ way. She paused twice to shoot at infected that rushed her way.
Boom, boom.
After reloading, she sprinted up the steps and entered the hospital. It was chaos. Blood spattered the walls, and she slipped in a puddle of gory entrails. Bodies littered the floor. Many of them wore white overcoats, and she wondered if they were too late. “Please, no. Dylan, Amanda!”
Shrill screams emitted from a nearby ward, and she rushed headlong into the fray. Several people stood at the far end, their backs to the wall. They were surrounded by a group of the undead, harassed from every side.
She blasted the nearest zombie’s skull to smithereens and tore a hole in another’s torso. When her gun clicked on empty, she dropped it and drew her pistol. A battle cry tore from her lips as she charged into the fight.
Seconds stretched into eternity while she fought. First with her gun, and finally, with her knife. Slash, hack, cut, and stab. On and on until a familiar face shouted at her. “Tara, stop! It’s over.”
“Dylan?” Tara asked, finding it hard to recognize her friend through the blood that covered her face.
“It’s me,” Dylan said, her
