Apocalypse Atlanta (76 page)

Jessica didn’t want a repeat of what had happened at the bottom of the stairs though, she couldn’t risk it.  So she kept doggedly at the stairs, taking them one at a time, feeling the seconds tick past as she labored up each step far more slowly than she would have liked.  She finally reached the landing at the top and paused with her hand on the door knob, listening.

The thumping from below was steady, but it sounded solid, not hollow, and was unaccompanied by any sounds of actual destruction.  Just a steady thumping as the zombie, or zombies, beat on it.  She hoped the door would hold, though it should be good enough to last a long while.

Even for a fairly small building like this, it was obviously zoned commercial, and that meant the minimum that should have been permitted for the emergency stairwells should be a twenty minute exposure to fire.  That meant decent metal or thick treated wooden doors, which surely would withstand even several zombies for a reasonable amount of time.

Opening the door cautiously, she peered out.  An empty hallway, a short one, with standard industrial style carpet.  “Candice, I need the bat back.”  When the girl gave it to her, Jessica got it propped up under her like before, then limped heavily out into the hallway.  Again, the only light was the red exit sign above her, marking the door for occupants in the event of an emergency.  The hallway ended to her right almost immediately, with a pair of doors on opposite sides marked as restrooms.

The other way clearly led out to the main area of the building.  Jessica went in that direction, wincing every time her left leg had to take even a little of her weight.  The end of the bat was digging into her hand as she leaned on it, and she took great care to make very sure of how she shifted and placed her weight on the bat for fear of it slipping out from beneath her.  There wasn’t a convenient railing here, and if she went down she wasn’t entirely sure she’d be able to get back up.

When she left the small side corridor, she stood for a moment as she tried to get her bearings.  Closing her eyes, she thought back to entering the building, turning into the stairwell corridor, and now here.  That should put the front side of the building . . . that way.

Properly oriented, she hoped, she hobbled up to the nearest door, a standard wooden interior type.  The sign next to it proclaimed it to be ‘Ralston Survey Group, Suite 2B’, its lettering barely discernable in the faint glow of the exit sign.  The knob did not turn; it was locked.

Jessica shook her head and glanced up and down the broad passage.  There were three more doors on the correct side of the building, but her leg . . .  “Candice.” she said finally.

“Yes mommy?” the girl said immediately.  She was hovering right next to Jessica, not quite touching her but clearly wanting to.

“Check the doors on this wall.” Jessica said, patting the wall.  “See if any of them are open.”  She didn’t like having to have Candice do it, but it would be quicker, and Jessica could see her no matter which of the doors she tried.  “If one opens, do not go inside.”

“Okay.”  Candice scampered to the right and tried the next closest door.  Jessica heard the knob rattling, and Candice shook her head.  She went past her mother to the other side of the passage and tried the next.  Jessica felt her heart sinking.  She wanted to get inside one of the offices, but she really didn’t want to have to break in.  She figured she could probably use the gun to shoot the lock out of the door if necessary but –

The door to 2D opened at Candice’s touch, and Jessica opened her mouth to reiterate her instructions.  But Candice had already released it and backed away.  She looked at her mother with a hopeful expression.  “This one’s open.”

“Good.” Jessica said, hobbling that way.  She eased past Candice and pushed through the door cautiously.  The room beyond was dim but brighter than the corridor, lit by moonlight that streamed in from an internal door standing open opposite her.  She limped forward to that door and found a pretty standard office; desk and chair, two visitor chairs, computer, shelves with books, and a little table that held a coffee machine.   The windows behind the desk admitted enough moonlight see reasonably well by.

Jessica went past the desk and peered out the windows.  She had positioned herself correctly.  Peachtree Industrial was visible outside, the Accord laying forlornly on its side in the street, just past the wreck that had concealed the zombie she’d hit.

As she swept her gaze from one side to the other, looking as far in each direction as the window permitted, she saw two zombies off to the left, and one to the right.  They were quite distant, seeming to be wandering aimlessly on the road.  They didn’t look like they were headed to join however many were currently pursuing Candice and herself.

“Close both doors.” Jessica said, sinking into the big chair behind the desk with a sigh of relief.  “If there’s a lock, lock them.”

Candice turned and immediately went to the outer door and pulled it shut, then came back and closed the room’s door with a soft click as the tongue went home in the latch.  There was a second click when she pushed the button in the middle of the knob to lock it.

“Good.” Jessica said, swiveling the chair slowly with her right foot so she was sitting sideways to the desk.  That would let her see both the door and look out the windows.  She kept her left leg stretched out as much as the chair permitted.  Bending made it hurt more.

“Now what?” Candice asked, still using that small voice that bespoke fear.

Jessica looked at her and felt a wave of emotion flooding through her, almost strong enough to chase away the pain in her leg.  Relief, that they were safe for the moment.  Pride, that Candice had held it together without collapsing.  Terror, at what could have happened.  Anger, at having put her daughter in this circumstance.  And love.  A wave of care and concern and love so overwhelming that it all but cleared the other emotions out of the way.

“Now you come here.” she said as normally and warmly as she could.  “And hug me while I hug you.”

Candice’s lower lip trembled for an instant, then she bolted around the desk.  She flung herself at Jessica with such force the chair rolled back several inches.  Candice’s arms went around Jessica, and her head came down on the woman’s shoulder.  Her slim body shook and heaved as she sobbed, and Jessica felt the tears dampening her neck even as she enfolded her daughter in a heartfelt hug.

“There, there.” Jessica murmured, holding her own tears back with enormous effort.  She stroked a hand down Candice’s back and whispered soothingly.  “We’re okay.  It’s okay.”  She blinked, trying to keep her eyes dry and clear, and looked surreptitiously out the window.  She hoped she wasn’t lying.

* * * * *

“Okay, so that’s why no one’s been answering our radio calls.” Peter said sourly.

“Yeah, there’s no one left.” Whitley agreed.

“Shit, we’re going in there?” Harper asked incredulously, looking past Peter at the scene visible through the windshield.

“You can get out here if you want.” Whitley said.  “But we need more ammo.”

“Fuck, this is the South.” Harper protested.  “There’s gun nuts everywhere.  Why we gotta go in there for it?”

“Stop whining.” Candles said.  “Clay’s the best place to get proper gear.  We only gotta make it to the armory and inside before we’re loaded for bear.  It looks like most of the zombies are hanging out near the administration buildings and barracks.”

“You guys are crazy.” Harper muttered.

Whitley reached for the door handle.  “You want out?”

“No.” Harper said quickly.  “But we shouldn’t go in there.”

“Noted.” Peter said crisply, though he glanced back at the others in the bus.  Barker and Johns both looked a little uneasy, and Nailor seemed uncertain, but they didn’t say anything when Peter’s eyes came to them.  “Okay.  Let’s go.”

Whitley took her foot off the brake and stepped on the accelerator.  The bus surged forward along Cobb Parkway, then turned left into the main entrance of the base.  One of the gates at the security building was standing wide open, which should never happen.  Their observation from the road had already revealed why though; zombies were wandering all through the facility.

One zombie emerged from behind the security building just as the bus approached the open gate, apparently drawn by the roar of the diesel engine.  Peter winced, knowing what was coming.  Whitley kept her speed steady at thirty miles per hour and didn’t flinch when the right front of the bus went over the zombie.  The figure just vanished, one second staggering towards the bus eagerly, the next gone beneath it.

Peter swallowed as the bus bumped over the body, but didn’t say anything.  The road curved very slightly as it stretched away from the gates.  Whitley followed it into the base, ignoring the little side streets that led to on-base housing and the PBX stores, past the first of the parking lots where base personnel and visitors could park their vehicles, and finally turned onto the first road that led into the base proper.

She had to weave the bus some to avoid other zombies, but couldn’t entirely avoid them all.  Three more were run over, each one nothing more than a thump and a couple of bumps before it was no longer an issue.

Candles chuckled.  “That’s what I’m talking about.  Heavy metal, yeah.”

Whitley’s lips compressed slightly, and her eyes flickered briefly to the Guardsman in the mirror above her.  But she didn’t say anything, and neither did anyone else.  The bus went through the last parking lot, threaded between the two primary administrative buildings, and out onto the northern runway aprons.

There were two C-130s parked off to the left, near the hangers at the end of the apron.  One of them was listing to the left, due to damage caused when someone had managed to ram a truck into the left side landing gear.  The other looked okay, but it didn’t matter.  None of the people on the bus were pilots, and the runways were too covered with wandering zombies to make takeoff easy.

Whitley went across the main runway, several taxiways, then down a side road on the far side that was lined with trees.  Peter didn’t know exactly where to go, he’d never really gone much past the front section of the base, but Whitley seemed sure and none of the other Guardsmen raised objections.  A minute later Whitley slowed to a crawl and peered forward as she leaned on the wheel.

“One of those?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, the one with the angled roof.” Candles said.  “The two round ones are vehicle bays.”

“Vehicles?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, hummers and five tons.  Repair shops” Whitley said.  “And there don’t seem to be too many zombies over here.”

“Makes sense.” Hernandez said, having risen and now hanging onto the overhead railing as he looked over Peter’s shoulder.  “Barracks and housing are all on the other side of the base.  Only reason to come over here is to load up or fix something.”

Peter studied the scene.  There were five zombies in view, three of them already having noticed the bus.  The armory was a typical building, concrete block with a pair of big roll-up doors for when major loading or unloading operations were happening.  He hadn’t considered it until just now, but laying hands on some humvees would be a good idea.  They were still fuel hogs, but compared to the bus they were models of efficiency.

“Okay, park as close to the right loading bay as you can.” Peter said.  “Shooters will clear the zombies in the area, then cover while the carry teams head inside and grab stuff.”

Whitley nodded, and the few remaining soldiers who still had rounds racked back the charging handles on their weapons in a series of metallic clacks.  Peter was still hoarding the boxes of AR rounds in the bottom of his pack, and at the moment it looked like he’d be able to keep doing so.  Unless there was a problem inside the armory, they’d likely soon have all the ammunition they could handle.

The bus started forward again, approaching the front of the building at just past a walking pace.  Whitley turned early, too early, then let the turn widen out somewhat when she realized.  The bus swung slowly around and ended up parked at an angle to the loading door.

“Jam the front bumper right up against the wall.” Peter said, pointing.  Whitley looked where he was pointing, then crept the bus forward another couple of feet until it bumped into the building’s wall with a solid sounding thump despite the low speed.

“Okay, grab and go.” Peter said, charging his own AR and leading the way down the steps when Whitley hit the door control.  They hissed back, and Peter came down looking to the right.  He’d taped gauze into place around his abraded palms, but the wounds weren’t bad enough to keep him from using his hands.  At least, not the AR, not at close or medium ranges when he didn’t have to make any thread-the-needle shots.

He went toward the back of the bus cautiously, then paused about halfway down and crouched to look beneath it.  The closest zombie feet he could see were too distant to be an immediate threat, so he hugged the side of the bus and covered left as he neared the edge of the armory.  Experience downtown had taught him the zombies, always eerily silent, could ambush you if you went around corners and obstacles blindly.

There weren’t any zombies on the far side of the building however, and he stepped out past the back of the bus.  Hernandez already had his M-16 up to his shoulder, aiming, and as Peter scanned around the area the man’s weapon cracked.  A zombie about twenty-five feet distant fell.