The Risen: Courage (4 page)

My arm feels limp as if it’s on fire, but my job is to get the doors closed. I can do that with one hand. I use the cover fire to crawl to the open metal doors as more Risen are rushing out of them towards me.

Bodies are collapsing around me from the well-aimed shots. They bounce against the floor, leaving their eyes wide and staring at me. It unsettles my heart even more. Seeing the mass of horrors heading towards me unsettles it completely.

Wrestling my mind free from its enslavement of fear, I force my body to move again. Sliding across the floor to avoid taking a shot, I only come to kneeling to reach for the metal handles. The first door is easy. It closes with an eagerness compared to my own to block the running horde. The second door is held open with a wedge and my frantic pulling has managed to lodge it underneath the metal. Pushing the door open again, I kick at the crudely shaped wooden block, hoping to spin it enough so that it will slide and not become jammed again even as it laughs at my attempts. I am not standing tall enough to give me the leverage that I need. It only inches with each kick as the horde is closing the distance with my delay.

Lawless bounces the door off his palms with a thrust before turning his attention to the room. It gives the door the needed separation for me to pull the wedge free. He fires one shot into the room, hitting the one closest to the disappearing gap. Their bodies collide with the doors at the same instant they close, bowing them open before we can brace to close them again. Their pounding fists vibrate the metal, echoing through our palms.

Fingernails torture the paint as they claw, sending squeals of protest from the doors. The doors pop open with the many combined desires. I don’t know how long he and I can hold them at bay.

Sensing my thoughts, Lawless grunts with the efforts to fight and says, “Rhett and Chapel have already gone around to the main courtyard. They are going to draw their attention from that entrance.” He flips, using his back to brace better. “They will pick off what they can before shutting their doors. We will just keep repeating.” He looks to me and asks, “Did you get an idea of how many are in there?”

“A lot. What if they are in the courtyard too?”

His face twists with his efforts as the doors pop open, bouncing us against the cold metal before we push them shut again. He says, “We didn’t see any through the windows. Paula checked. She and Marxx are already headed for the gym with Aimes.”

His words are chopped short with our bodies bouncing off the metal doors. My feet are losing against the slippery floor. They slide out from under me made slick by the blood from upstairs on them and the blood that is now splashed in puddles around us. It leaves long, red trails smeared across the once grey, boring floor. I miss the boring floors and my mind wanders with the thought.

“Law, how thick do you think these doors are?” I ask.

He laughs a short sound of masculine amusement before saying, “I don’t think they can dig through.”

“Could a bullet?”

His amusement fades to one of shock with my question. “Shit,” he says and pulls us both to the floor as the first shot comes from the room behind us.

CHAPTER
5

T
he weight against the door halts, suspended between pushing and letting it fall back closed. The faces that once were covered with expressions of anger now slacken with their confusion. Their eyes are still glued to us between the gap in the doors, but they are no longer trying to reach through it. Their bodies still crave us. Their minds have just become more concerned with something else. Something they have learned is dangerous.

I can hear Rhett taunting them. The doors muffle his voice, but it still reaches me. “Here, freaks,” he taunts them. “White meat or dark meat? I got them both for you right here. Come and get it!”

“Charming…” I whisper from the floor, mentally picturing the hand gestures he used to match his words. I can feel the gore sticking to me while the empty eyes from those we have already killed stare at me.

“Stay down,” Lawless says. He pushes against my back to keep me from rising as the shots sound behind us.

I would almost rather take my chances with their bullets than to remain laying face-to- face with the bodies around us. When the shots slow, so does my heart.

“What are they doing?” I ask.

Lawless shrugs with a smile. “Wasn’t blessed to have Superman for a dad, but knowing Rhett, he is reinventing duck, duck goose.”

“I’m glad you find this all amusing.”

His smile disappears at my tone. “Yeah, it’s a laugh a minute around here,” he says.

“Law, I didn’t mean…” I stop, refusing to go on with his dedicated stare at the wall in front of us. He is straining to hear every noise from the other side of the doors and to not hear me at all.

There is no noise. The room is silent now. I worry we missed some signal saying it was our turn, or worse. Lawless’ face wears the same concerns. He stares at the door over his shoulder as if he could see through it, demanding it to give up its secrets.

“It’s cleared.” Chapel’s voice comes from down the hall, and it startles us both. He tells us, “Weren’t as many as we thought, but we got a problem.”

“What problem?” Lawless asks. The front of his shirt is as thick with the muck from the floor as mine. Like two twins of battle, we wait for the other two men to reach us.

“The other doors show signs of them. We locked the cafeteria to prevent any from sneaking back in,” Chapel says once he reaches us.

“What do you mean “signs”?” I ask, but I really don’t want to know. I never really want to know.

“Scratches, dents, that sort of thing,” Rhett says, shrugging with his explanation as if it is just another day. I wish I had just a shot glass’ worth of his crazy.

If I thought Lawless and I look like survivors of something horrible, I was wrong. Rhett is covered in dark splatters that cling to his arms and adds a shine to the leather vest. The spot where he held Aimes to him now blends with the new carnage. If battle carried a face, it would be his.

“Duck, duck, goose?” I repeat Lawless’ idea while staring at the tall man covered in his venting. Lawless smirks, but the other two look to each other before back at us. “Never mind,” I say.

“What do you want to do?” Lawless recovers the conversation that I lured into paused confusion.

“Split up,” Chapel suggests. “We need to make sure they aren’t walking into a trap, but we can’t leave until we make sure the things aren’t all over the place.”

Lawless nods and says, “Hells and I will cover down here. You two can catch up with the others and make sure they get Aimes to safety.”

I nod in agreement and with the majority, except for one.

“No,” Rhett tells us. “Hells and I will clean up down here. You and Chap go check on them.”

Lawless starts to argue, but Rhett ignores him while inspecting my arm. I had forgotten about it with all that was going on, but now the burning pain flares back to life as I stare at it and he probes it with his fingers. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Gonna need to bind that,” Chapel says, staring at the wound. “Looks like stitches later.”

“Even more reason for you two to hurry up and make sure they made it.” Rhett urges them forward with a glare and a hint of what may be happening to the others. It works. Law isn’t happy about it, but it works.

He caresses my lower back as he passes by me, but we don’t look at each other. Our death toll is mounting, even though it’s still early in the day. We are both too afraid to admit the very real truth that this could be the last time we see one another. We don’t have time for long goodbyes. Aimes and Marxx may be in danger, so every moment stalled could cost them – costing us.

Rhett rips the shirt from one of the dead bodies on the floor and shrugs with my disgust. He is completely honest with his voice when he says, “What? Not like he is using it. I prefer to keep a little something between me and them or I’d offer you mine.”

“I don’t think putting a dirty “rag” on an open wound is the best idea. Pretty sure I read that somewhere.”

“Did you now? Well, Barbie, I would love to offer you something better, but we are kind of in the shit of it at the moment. We need to cover the smell of your blood, and this will do that, but I’ll remind Paula to clean it real good for you if we live, okay?” He cinches the cloth tight with his last statement. I wince not only from the pain, but his tone, too.

He walks away from me in the opposite direction Chapel and Lawless took. The hall looms around us, suddenly much more alarming knowing that around any corner they could be waiting.

“What’s the real reason you split us up like this?” I ask him as I trail a few steps behind.

“He can’t focus if you are near. He will be too worried about you and not have his mind on what is around him. We don’t know how many made it in or how outnumbered we are.”

“You are worried about us being outnumbered, but we split up anyway?” I ask and he doesn’t answer me. I guess I wasn’t supposed to see the flaw in the plan so early. “You don’t think he could keep me safe?”

Rhett chuckles as his eyes roam ahead of us. He is looking for any more “signs”, letting the conversation remove the edge of the fear we are both feeling. He says with his predatory smile, “Sweetheart, you don’t need anyone to keep you safe. You were kicking these things’ ass while the rest of us were still trying to figure out what they were. I was more worried he wouldn’t be able to keep himself safe. Love makes men into heroes, and heroes make good victims.”

I don’t want to talk about heroes or victims, so I focus on the task we have set and say, “The only other place this leads is the library and the main office. Simon keeps the office locked.”

“Library it is.”

“Library it is.” I echo as its double doors come into view. The place where I once hid to avoid the man who stands in front of me may be hiding something else now, something even the pages of the books within could not contain.

Rhett stands motionless in front of the doors. It’s hard to form a plan when one is blind to what is on the other side. I remember the lay out. I am about to be Zombie Barbie again and my Ken is something more from a slasher film than a prince charming tale. It seems fitting.

“There is a block of space when you first enter where the librarian’s desk sits. Once you have passed it, you have tables with chairs for reading in groups and the computer tables. The bookshelves follow behind them. They are floor to ceiling but some shelves are half of the wall along the outside wall. I can lead us in,” I say, trying to help him picture the room.

“Then ladies first,” he says while smiling at me. I really hadn’t counted on him taking me up on that offer.

I walk around him to center myself in front of the doors. One last deep breath to convince my heart and my mind that I can do this and away we go. The doors open slowly against my palm, revealing the room inch-by-inch. I’m starting to develop a serious phobia with double-metal doors.

No sound greets me. No snarling face jumps out to startle me. The room is silent and seems to be empty. “Seems” being the key word and I would almost rather have them waiting for me at the door with dinner forks in their hands.

Rhett holds the door open for me with the “
I dare you
” smile still on his face. I use to wonder how his mind worked. I’m kind of over that.

I tell him, “I guess I don’t have to worry about you being a hero.”

“Sweetheart, what I have for you isn’t love, but I’d be a victim all the same,” he tells me. The humor is supposed to take the edge off what we are about to do. It gives us each a moment to prepare for what we are avoiding, the Risen.

“Don’t let me die.” I whisper to him and take my first step into the room.

I feel his answer against my hair as he keeps the space tight between us. “Have I yet?” he asks me and I can’t argue with him. Well, at least not yet.

CHAPTER
6

I
imagine something jumping out at me with every step I take. Like a twisted game of peek-a-boo, I picture them leaning out from a dark corner, but they don’t. Monsters are never that accommodating.

Rhett motions to me that he will take one side of the many rows of long shelves while I am to walk parallel on the other side. His fascination with the splitting up idea goes against everything my heart is beating. You’re supposed to divide and conquer the other side, not your own.

The windows of this room cast long shadows of the shelves with the sun’s light. The shadows seem to reach out for us like the jagged claws of a great beast. The chairs I once lounged in appear to have aged with my absence. Thick pools of darkness now gather under the long tables. The room that was once my refuge is no longer my friend. It doesn’t take us long to find out to whom it now belongs.

He stands with his back to us staring at a turning display of magazines. He might have been mistaken for someone scanning the many titles of gossip on another day, but this isn’t another day. This is where his mind has shut off while he waits for something to hunt.

Rhett smiles with the irony of the man’s pose. He whispers to me, “Think he reads the articles or just looks at the pictures?”

This ones’ death is easy. Rhett takes full advantage of his blocked view with a casual walk to the man. With the same sense of nonchalant, he forces the blade of his large hunting knife into the back of the man’s skull. It was a soundless death. Rhett is almost disappointed with the lack of danger. With the same ease and the same smile, he steps over the body as he searches for more with his big ole’ bucket of crazy to keep him brave.

The next one is on my side of the shelves. She is wobbling back and forth. The motion follows her whole body in a lethargic sway. She stares at me a few moments before she actually sees me. It allows me to close the gap between us before she can attack. As her snarl spreads, my blade finds its mark. I watch gravity pull her from me as her eyes go back to dull and blank and it’s another quick and clean kill. My heart begins to slow its pace with the smile that Rhett flashes to me. Have we finally caught a break or are the Demi-Gods just busy with someone else?

Rhett is already moving on like a silent killer. He said we are the good guys now because we are no longer the scariest things in this place. As I watch his face set with the joy of his hunt, I’m not so sure about that.

The snarl that escaped from the woman has gained the attention of the rest of the room. The room that I had thought to be empty is proving to be abundant. The Demi-Gods weren’t busy with anyone else. They were just waiting until I was a better toy to be played with. The space between the shelves is starting to fill with sounds of them “awakening”. Grumbles and growls become something more menacing when their eyes find mine. What started as curiosity is now eagerness with their discovery. I stopped counting when the many divided rows became one. Actually, I stopped counting when I realized that if I kept counting, I would have started screaming.

Men and women of various backgrounds stare at me. Their clothing ranges from jeans and t-shirts to suits and ties, all stained and worn from what they have become now. The virus didn’t discriminate between white or black, rich or poor. It turned them all. Now, they all kill with the same lack of segregation.

I can’t stop my feet from going backwards. My body has learned from my past experiences. It wants to endure no repeats. With Rhett nowhere to be found, my frantic heart pushes my nerves to their breaking point. My heart is beating so hard I can feel the vibrations through my body. My legs become soft with my fears, making my retreat clumsy. My first stumble excites them. They grow bolder in their stalking with almost- smiles and pre-victory sounds. It saps my resolve even more.

“Rhett!” I shout to someone, somewhere in the room, “Now would be a good time to see about that whole not-dying deal!”

The first row took my shout as an invitation to dinner and they rush me. My slow retreat has already brought me to the edge of one of the long tables. With a gymnastic skill that only fear can provide, I quickly mount and cross it to keep some away with the obstacle between us. The group is so over-eager to feed, it ruins their normal methodical hunting skills. They pile against the table, trying to force it to move with the sheer number of them, but the tables are bolted to the floor. It’s not moving, not for them and not for me to keep it between us. I know it won’t be long until they have figured out they can simply move around it as I did. Once they do, I’m not sure what I will do.

Their outstretched arms reach for me. They swipe the air with anger over my elusiveness. The shouts that come from them are of rage-filled desperation. They are starving, drooling over the thoughts of food that is only inches away.

If there were less of them, I might be able to take a few down, but the clumped group stands too close for me to fight them. If I reach my arms in, my limbs will be torn apart like an overeager scavenger hunt for my flesh. My death would be quick as they set their teeth into my many veins.

I can’t run and leave Rhett either. I am out of ideas and I’m out of options. When the first one starts to climb over the table, I know I am also out of time.

He crawls slowly over the table. He is testing it, but his eyes never leave me. It is a slow, predator climb, making my body become locked with tension. Behind him, the rest of his pack has stilled as they watch. They are also waiting to see if it works before following him. The tables creaking cocks his head, but he never stops. His destination is straight ahead of him. It’s me.

He pulls away from the group. It is exactly what I needed. He is even gracious enough to come headfirst. Yes, those Demi-wenches are obviously not watching the show on this channel.

He senses the change in me. It’s a subtle shift for both of us. He increases his speed and I increase my need to survive. I wait with my heart rushing in my ears for him to reach me. The white noise overcomes me. That simple, peaceful state-of-mind drowns out all sounds. It removes all my doubts and fears, replacing them with one simple logic - kill or be killed. It’s nothing personal for him or for me. We both just want to survive.

His momentum brings him to me. I use his eagerness to counterbalance my lack of strength. With his help, I plant the blade into the space between the eyes that have watched me from his serial killer mind. It is not an instant death and I force the blade deeper into the skull to reach my target. It takes his brain a moment to catch up with the damage I have caused him. He stops, but his eyes still watch me until the false life that uses them fades completely. My victory dance becomes just a cry to battle.

They harbor no more hesitation and finally, Rhett doesn’t either. Focusing their attention on me, the Risen never notice the real threat standing directly behind them. Rhett is able to shoot into the clumped group so they fall in short patterns of lines, like dominoes. His smile says it all. It says a little too much, and I duck as the barrel swings towards the center of the group.

As the last one falls, I watch his shoes wade through the piles. Their bodies roll when he kicks them as he passes through. I would like to think it’s for safety reasons, but I’m sure a part of him just enjoys the act.

He kneels under the table to find me. I am staring into eyes that have not yet completely lost their predatory gleam. “What does that say about my aim when you feel the need to hide?” he asks me. “Hurt a man’s pride like that…” he says. His smile is a good-natured jest, but Rhett always has a fine line that makes you pause before you return his smile.

He offers me a hand covered in the aftermath of the cafeteria like a dare. I stare at it, feeling my stomach roll from the many layers that cover it. Returning a shade of the same smile, I grasp it and allow him to pull me to him. You don’t ever allow Rhett to find your weakness. He will turn it into a hobby, and as it is, he already knows plenty of things about me to keep him very busy if he so wanted.

“Took you long enough,” I say to him. I’m not even trying to hide my annoyance over once again being the bait armed with only a hunting knife.

“Sorry,” he tells me with a shrug, “takes time to line ‘em up.” He checks the remaining clip giving further reasons for delay and says, “I’m running low; didn’t want to waste any shots.”

For the third time today, I am surrounded by the dead and the clock has yet to strike noon. Some expression must have peeked through the composure I am fighting to wear on my face. Rhett’s eyebrow arches with a silent question, but I shake my head and head to the library door. If I allow myself this moment to break down, it will turn into hours, which we don’t have.

“Stop.”

It’s one simple command; a short, hushed word he says, but with his tone, it holds the power of a bomb. We forgot one. She watches us while standing near the librarian’s desk in a cardigan-covered dress that seems so painfully appropriate. Her blonde hair is still piled on her head from where she had looped it through her ponytail from days long ago. She has watched from her side of the room with silent self-preservation or plotting. Neither of those makes for a good ending.

Her arms are torn fragments of the flesh they once were. Her right cheek is shredded with claw marks and the connective tissue hangs in patterned holes peeking through to yellowing teeth like delicate crochet. Most people would be nervous seeing her standing there. For some, it might even be terrifying. For Rhett, it is all amusement. He was made for a world of dark things and desperate moments. He was made for this world when it has broken so many others. Grabbing a book from one of the tables, he never pauses. He never slows his steps or alters his path. He may as well have been walking up to an old friend to say hello – or goodbye.

She doesn’t fight him. She doesn’t show any emotions at all as she watches him stalk towards her. When he raises his hand with the hardbound book, she accepts her death with the same blank face. Rhett smashes the spine of the book into her head, driving her to the ground with the force of it. Repeatedly, he forces it into the bones of her skull until they give way under his vengeance, crumbling underneath his assault and leaking the decaying fluids they once contained around her. What does it say about someone when the monsters view them as the bigger monster and simply accept death as unavoidable?

Rhett reads my confused look as something I’m feeling over the outcome, not the act. He shrugs, looking at the book in his hand that is now covered in thick pieces of the woman before dropping it to the floor. “It was a boring cover, anyway,” he tells me before tearing the yellow cover with its black out-lined angle from the book and dropping it to the floor.

It lands perfectly by the dead librarian’s hand as if the location was staged and not just another ironic twist life continues to offer us. Like a present or an apology, he shyly hands me the rest of the book that only days ago gave me comfort when no one else would. It’s now topless and wet, exactly how Rhett enjoys his subject matters.