Dead Pulse (11 page)

A hissing noise from behind them caught their attention.
Half-turning they saw a tall woman fighting back the flames with blasts of foam from a fire extinguisher. Relieved, Sam recognised Karen moving towards them from the other side of the fire.

“Am I glad to s
ee you,” exclaimed Sam.

Karen continued to blast the extinguisher at the flames dowsing the fire down to small flickering flames. As the smoke started to subside Jayne could see the tall woman standing in the smouldering ash, a red extinguisher in one hand, the other on her hip.

“You must be Jayne. I’m Karen, let’s get out of here.” Karen growled.

With all her might, she took the extinguisher into both hands and threw it at the advancing corpses
. Hitting a number of her targets heads cracked and teeth sprinkled to the floor. Those that continued to walk stumbled over the bodies as they fell in their path. Several more explosions shook the building. The schools structure had been blasted beyond repair, demolished rooms and bodies merged into one.

Gunfire rattled outside as the soldiers exterminated those dead that had
unwittingly managed to escape from the school.

Sam, Jayne and Karen ran frantically down the corridor towards the stairs. Sam looked back. To his morbid amusement, some of the dead had caught fire but despite the flames coming off them they continued to walk or crawl until they could no longer move; finally dead.

They were covered in black mortar dust as debris fell all around them as another explosion ripped through the building sending glass flying out of their frames, more walls crumbled away. Everything seemed to shake as if the very foundations had given way. Karen fell through a gaping hole in the floor. Her top catching on a floorboard preventing her from falling to the raging fire that burned below her.

Jayne slammed onto the floor, landing on broken glass which cut open her hands and knees. She lay motionless in her own blood, the broken glass crunching under her weight. She looked over to see Sam uneasily get to his feet. He stood larger than life, debris and fire all around him. Behind him she could see the blue decaying corpses then everything turned black as she drifted into unconsciousness.

Karen hung there, frantically trying to grab hold of the floorboard that had snagged her clothes, the flames burning higher and higher beneath her. Sam dived along the wooden floor reaching down and gripping Karen’s hands just as her top ripped. With all his might he began to pull her up, getting Karen to safety.

Some of the dead shuffled forward closing in once more on the living. Sam pointed the gun at one of the dead men’s heads.

“Eat this,” Sam spat, pulling the trigger he realised the gun was empty. Both the corpse and Sam paused briefly staring into the others eyes. Sam yelled as the dead man lurched forward, wrestling him to the floor while Karen grabbed the second zombie. Without hesitation Karen threw it down the hole into the fire below, she watched as its loose flesh was eaten by the flames.

A third zombie made its way over to where Jayne still lay, unconscious on the floor. A fourth appeared in the doorway and grabbed Sam from behind. Not knowing who to help first, Karen moved towards Sam.

“I got it covered. Help Jayne,” he bawled, throwing his attacker to the floor, his foot connecting with its head, sending it spinning through the air.

Karen picked up a thick piece of timber and smashed it into the skull of dead who hovered about Jayne. Whilst it lay on the floor, Karen could see that it was still moving
. Unsure whether the movement was deliberate or involuntary she swung the piece of wood hitting the zombie repeatedly until it moved no more.

More and more zombies descended into the room as they made to escape from the flames that now raged through the building. Another devastating explosion filled the once silent corridors. Karen could see Sam fighting off the dead, throwing them up against the walls and into other corpses. For the moment, he was free of them and Karen turned her attention back to rousing Jayne. Sam turned, unharmed and walked towards Karen. Winking at her, as he bent forward to help with Jayne, Karen smiled in relief, the smile turning to a gasp as from the corner of her eye she noticed the ceiling creaking and groaning before it gave way, tearing the corridor into two with dust swirling before their eyes. The falling rubble had separated Sam from the two women. Caked with the falling dust Karen pulled away some of the rubble. She found a small opening and put her hand through the gap grasping Sam’s hand firmly. They both knew it would take too long for them to move enough rubble for him to get through to their side.

“I sorry I won’t be able to help you find your brother, maybe next time. Go... Get out of here,” Sam coughed weakly. Karen could see more zombies coming up the other stairs towards Jayne.

“Get
Jayne out of here. I’ll be ok, promise.” His lungs began to fill with smoke, coughing, he let go of her hand.

Karen lay there for a moment, watching Sam through the gap. Struggling to his feet, weak and tired, he walked away, and like an apparition, he disappeared into the clouds of dust and smoke. She could hear him as he fought off the approaching dead, wholeheartedly fighting for his life. His voice was lost to the sounds of the fire crackling
around the collapsing building.

“Sam?” Karen whispered gripping the broken floorboards in despair. Snapping out of her grief, as quickly as it had come, she effortlessly picked up Jayne putting her across her shoulders. Taking Jayne’s gun, she shot a quick glance back at the gap she had made in the rubble before turning and making her way to the stairs. As two more zombies approached she
shot them both between the eyes, sending one crashing to the floor and the other tumbling backwards down the stairs.

She walked down the stairs with Jayne still over her shoulder. Explosions continued to ring out all around her, the noise impairing her hearing. She looked up and couldn’t contain the laugh that welled up inside here as before her hung a, lop-sided exit sign. Kicking open the fire-exit Karen walked out into the rain. She walked purposely across the yard, towards the soldier’s lights.

Due to her temporary deafness as a result of the blasts, Karen could not hear the explosions that continued behind her, but she could feel their force and heat as the flames lit up the sky.

As she neared the fence, Karen collapsed to the ground, still holding onto Jayne. Looking back she could see what was left of the burning building. A figure walked out from the ruins. Her heart missed a beat, as for a moment she hoped it was Sam. Squinting through the rain and smoke that moved all around her she knew it was one of the dead. Despite it being a walking corpse Karen was relieved it wasn’t a cold, dead, heartless version of Sam. As the soldiers took aim the corpse was shot at all angles, torn apart by the bullets.

Karen stood up leaving Jayne lying on the yard. Turning, she slowly climbed the fence landing softly on the ground the other side. She walked towards Hardy and the crowd of rejoicing soldiers. Frank stood with them. Karen marched towards him, and with the swing of her right fist she punched him on the jaw sending him sprawling on the damp ground.

“What part of ‘ten’ didn’t you understand?” she snarled.

Later Karen sat with Jayne in her arms as the dawn began to break; she looked up at the new sun appearing on the horizon with hope for the future. Jayne stirred and woke. Slowly both of the women got to their feet, Karen stood with one hand shading her eyes as she watched the sunrise. Jayne stood next to her.

“Sam?” Jayne asked.

Karen’s eyes filled and a fat tear rolled down her cheek, she slowly shook her head.

Jayne bowed her head mournfully, guiltily looking at her mutilated hands. She knew she was lucky to be alive and with her hands, once they were healed she would finish the work she had started, experiment seventy-
seven. Jayne was determined that Sam’s death would not be in vain.

“Where are you going to go? What are you going to do now?” Jayne asked.

Karen’s clothes were torn, burnt and dusty. There was a long silence then Karen’s voice trembled “I’m going to do what Sam would do.” She briefly though of her brother,
firstly
, determinably turning to face Jayne. “I’m going make sure that you reach the base.”

The sun glistened down on the two weary women as they walked unsteadil
y towards the waiting soldiers.

Pushing Hardy’s helping hand from his nose
Frank sat in his jeep avoiding eye contact with the approaching women.

Exhausted, they climbed onto the back of an awaiting tank. The heavy tank steadily headed towards the orange skyline and like a mirage, they disappeared into the rising sun…

Extract 4.0

J. Reed. 20092702/20022802

In contrast to strategic warheads, as mentioned in VEP 11/01 which can level cities and smaller short-range tactical nuclear arms designed to wipe out battlefield forces. It is likely to maximize a barrage of infinitesimal neutrons that could zip through tanks, buildings and other structures. It should destroy the central nervous system of the ‘enemy’ (The Dead).

Provided that the weapon was not used in a thunderstorm, no fallout effects would occur from the use of bomb according to J. M. James manual and my notes: VEP 11/03, as the combination of 200m burst altitude and low yield prevents fallout in addition to significant thermal and blast effects. The reduction in damage within the target area is a major advantage of such a weapon to deter mass
destruction.

In several meetings with Military personnel
it has been established that 77 can be deployed via tanks or anti-tank missile launchers
.
I would advise not waste more precious time trying to build a weak coalition of those nations that will support 77 in name only.
 

It is the only weapon in history that actually
may benefit humanity.

This is my final report.

Jayne Reed.

PART FIVE: THE COMPOUND

Many months had
passed since the school’s destruction and Samuel’s demise. For many a distant memory lost on the rotting autumn leaves. After Jayne’s work was completed she had been escorted to a safer place, Marshal charged with her protection much to his protest and to his annoyance replaced by Thomas Hardy.

The stench of death and decay filled the seasoned air. The dead in various stages of decomposition, slowed by the harsh winter’s air, now pushed against the tall metal barrier. The tops of the pointed vertical poles were deadly to anyone attempting to trespass. Fortunately, the dead didn’t appear to have the co-ordination to attempt climbing.

The compound consisted of several metal cabins and the crematorium, close by stood a grey, five-storey purpose built building. The cargo planes and truckloads of dead bodies had ceased. The body loading team now destroyed the surplus of dead that surrounded them, those that came from the dark attracted by the activity of the living.

Its occupants had not heard from any official administrator in quite some time, they continued their work in rounding up and destroying the abundance of bodies.

Quaid Stockwell stood watching them from the safety of the perimeter
fence. Hair scraped back in a ponytail, a dark T-shirt, trousers and boots. With one hand on his stubble-covered chin, he pointed his fingers making a gun shape, pretending to shoot at the hordes of the dead like a child playing war. As a figure approached, he squinted in the dimming light just able to make out her dark silhouette.

“Come inside Quaid, you’re going to freeze,” said Jayne. The trauma of recent events had made her gaunt, her white jumper and black overcoat drowned her now petite figure.

“If they are out there fighting for us, there must be hope. They said that the living can reclaim the world,” Quaid turned to Jayne and looked into her sad eyes, partly obscured by her hair.

“I heard it too Quaid, but that was ages ago. They also said that they would come and get us.
Karen and Hardy’s men were meant to come back and get me. Save us. We’ve heard nothing since and it’s been a long and harsh winter. They’re probably dead. We just have to get on with our lives the way they are. Come inside.” She tugged at his arm.

They made their way from the roof and
walked down to the canteen; Jayne stopping to check the canteen-cleaning rota, while Quaid made himself a black coffee. They strolled through a stark beige painted corridor and made their way to the first floor, and sat in an open plan office. Papers and discarded plastic cups moved around the neglected office space from the icy draft that came in through a broken window, covered with a square of cardboard held poorly by some failing gaffer tape. Quaid lazily moved the mouse on his desk. The computer screen came to life and a promotion video for the compound began to play.
The place was so alive,
thought Quaid.

A smooth male voice spoke as construction work took place. “The building and refurbished slaughterhouse, now crematorium, was set up by the government and funded by taxpayer’s money. This will be a fast and effective way to dispose of the growing number of bodies. We are proactive...” Quaid clicked the stop icon on the seventeen-inch screen, spinning around on his chair.