The End Has Come and Gone

'Hon, those red shiny things in the back let you know what I'm doing,” I told her calmly.

'Mike, any chance I could ride with you?' an ashy faced BT asked.

'Traitor!' Tracy yelled at him.

'There is nothing wrong with being a self-preservationist,” he said loftily.

Brian came to a stop and our small caravan idled by the side of the road. “What gives?' he asked.

I walked over to the guardrail. Because of our elevation from the outlying areas it afforded us a decent view of the shops below, one of which was a furniture store.

'Oh my God!' Perla gasped, placing her hand over her mouth.

'That would obviously be where we need to go?' Jack asked me.

I nodded once. The warehouse parking lot was entombed by the living dead. I hadn’t seen this great an assembly since the fall of Little Turtle.

'What the hell Mike?' Tracy asked in disbelief.

'They're already dead,” Brian said absently.

'Alex risked his entire world to save my family, I owe him the same chance. He did no such thing for you. You don’t know him and you barely know me, you’re not under an y obligation to stay here.” 'Relax friend,” Brian said. “I wasn't saying it as an out. It just was kind of a voiced thought.” “Oh,” I nodded. “I could relate to those.”

I blasted off a couple of rounds, not sure if the sound would break through the distance or the dampening effects of the rain, but maybe it would give them a small measure of hope that help, no matter how little of it there was, had arrived.

'Alright, it's almost dark and it's raining like hell. Why don’t we find some shelter and see if we can come up with some sort of plan,” Gary said, momentarily taking charge. I appreciated it because the scene laid out before me looked like something from Dante's circles of hell and I had yet to assimilate it all.

Paul was exhausted after what seemed like his fiftieth time up and down the stairs. They had brought mattresses and chairs. Anything that resembled a tarp, all the contents of the vending machine and anything that could help them wait out an extended stay on an exposed roof top. It was on one of the last trips up the stairs that Paul began to ponder this last strategic weak point.

The stairs weren't going anywhere; they were constructed of a giant poured block of concrete. The railing, however, was only attached with hex head bolts. Removing the railing wouldn’t necessarily keep the zombies from making it up the stairs but it could keep a great many of them from staying there . The more zombies that tried to crowd on the stairwell, the more that would keep getting pushed off the edge. If they could never get a big enough thrust to work on the door leading out to the roof, the survivors would have a much better chance of waiting it out and potentially receiving some help.

Finding tools was easy enough, the loading bay was full of tool boxes where some furniture had to be assembled before making its way onto the show room floor. Paul and Alex started the removal process. MJ came to help when they got down to the final two bolts. The railing was in two sections of about 20 feet long, with the second top piece having an 'L' bend to accommodate the landing. The lower piece came off without much of a hitch. As the last screw came undone, it was then gently eased to the floor. The second piece was a little more difficult, Alex and MJ held it in place while Paul unscrewed the last bolt down by the bottom, his arm hanging through the railing as he sat on the stair trying to get more leverage. MJ did not fully realize the weight of the railing he was supporting from the top landing. When the bolt came free below, he nearly went head over heels off the landing. With only the concrete floor to stop his fall, his injuries most likely would have been severe. Just as he neared the breaking point which would decide whether he could continue to hang on a little longer or topple over, MJ let loose of the railing. The force pulled the slick metal from Alex' hands and the resulting crushing force of the railing as it came down almost broke Paul's arm in half. The ear splitting sound of two hundred pounds of metal slamming into concrete was immensely louder than rifle shots.

Joann and Erin came running in. MJ had a mild look of shock on his face, while Alex was checking on Paul who was clutching his arm to his side.

'Paul, are you all right?' Erin screamed from the bottom of the stairs just as the sound finally stopped its incessant echoing from concrete wall to concrete wall.

'Whew, that was close,” Paul said to Alex's questioning stare.

'I'm so sorry,” MJ said, coming down to the middle of the staircase. “I guess I didn't realize how heavy it was going to be. You alright?' he asked hopefully.

'Yeah, I think I'm fine. I could feel the railing, it just about caught my arm and then I pulled it in real quick, tweaked it a bit but nothing serious. Scared me more than anything,” Paul said as he flexed his arm out.

Alex grabbed his elbow and gave a squeeze, “Does that hurt?'

'I'm good, just a little hyper-extended. Could you have set it if it was broken?' Paul asked, concerned now because he had not thought of it before. Could any of them survive what was once considered a basic injury?

'Be thankful it wasn't,” was Alex's reply.

Erin came up the stairs to hug her husband.

'Everything's fine honey, just a close call,” he reassured her.

Eddy took this opportune time to come screaming into the loading bay where the staircase was located. “Mean lady says the zombies are almost in!' he screamed.

Alex was gone like a shot, going to grab Marta and his kids. MJ was right behind him going to grab his tools and box. To each his own.

'Hey Erin, why don’t you and Joann see if there is anything else in this general area you think should go up. I'm going to go lay down some covering fire with Mrs. Deneaux.” 'Don’t wait too long,” she told him and gave him a kiss.

'Just long enough for Alex and MJ to get back and up.” Paul hugged her fiercely then let her go and bounded down the stairs.

Shots rang out from the front of the store and, unlike Joann's wild shots a few hours earlier, Paul was under the impression that these were finding targets. He ran to the front of the store. Mrs. Deneaux was furiously puffing on a cigarette while reloading her revolver. Furniture had been pushed back into the store a good fifteen feet. Five zombies lay in a pool of brackish goo.

'Oh, I know what you’re thinking,” Mrs. Deneaux mouthed the words around the cigarette. It looked like something she had been practicing for many a year. “Six shots five kills, not bad.” Paul hadn’t actually had enough time to access the situation, but now that she brought it up, yeah, that was pretty friggen’ good.

'Well, you’re wrong, because the sixth one is behind the big purple love seat, you just can't see him.” And then she cackled.

'That is pretty good,’ Paul thought. He just couldn't bring himself to verbalize it. He began to open fire with his rifle. Zombies as a whole had not yet completely figured out how to run through the maze, but they were beginning to leak through like blood through splayed fingers covering a wound. The flood was being held at bay but this was now a game with a timer attached.

'Start heading back!' Paul shouted to Mrs. Deneaux. MJ had already grabbed his stuff and was almost halfway to the back of the building.

'One more revolver full!' she shouted gleefully. “It's been a long time since I've done anything so fun!'

Paul shook his head. Blowing holes in zombie heads was not supposed to be anyone's idea of a good time.

Mrs. Deneaux’ facial muscles screamed in protest as she forced them into a pose they had not mustered in decades.

'That is one hideous smile,’ Paul thought, ‘but the bitch sure can shoot.’

'Six shots, six kills, huh!' she yelled, “Okay, I'm out of here!'

She wasn't particularly sprightly as she headed away but there was a definite hop to her step as she