Waiting to Die ~ A Zombie Novel (15 page)

A look of panic quickly spreads
across April's face as she watches the first few cadavers ooze through the
doorway.

“Hurry, go!” Johnny screams,
grabbing April by the waist before she can react, and places her into the
ventilation shaft.

She braces herself against the
smooth steel, but slips from the rain on her shoes and falls the full ten feet
and lands with a
thud
.

“Shit!” Johnny exclaims and
grabs the vent cover as he shimmies into the darkness. He places the cover on
the shaft, over his head and slowly slides downward with a faint squeak of his
shoes on the wet metal.

He hears a groan from below as
he makes his way down to the intersection of the vent. “Baby, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” April replies through
her groan, wincing. “My ankle, I think it might be broken,” she says, gripping
her leg.

“Try to crawl out of the way,
I'm coming down,” Johnny instructs as he hears the first of the dead slam
against the vent cover.

Panicked by the sudden sound,
April lets out a faint yelp and scoots farther into the vent. “Are they going
to get through?” she asks as she braces herself against the vent.

“Probably not for a while,”
Johnny answers as his feet make contact with the intersection.

Immediately, the dank smell of
dust hits Johnny's nose, and he holds back an impending sneeze. He begins to
rummage through his pack, fishing out a small flashlight and turns it on with a
click. The beam of light spreads out across the reflective surface of the vent,
washing April’s face in a sudden and direct glow. For a moment, they are both
blinded, but recover once their eyes adjust. Johnny directs the light onto April’s
ankle, and pulls her pant leg up for a better view. Her skin is a light blue,
and is already beginning to swell.

“Can you move it?” he asks.

April flexes and turns her foot,
wincing at the pain. “Yeah, it moves, but it hurts like hell.”

“It's probably sprained.” His face
tightens in desperation.

“Don't look at me that way,” she
says.

“What way?”

“…like I'm already dead. I can
make it, it's just a sprain,” April says, irritation marks her voice.

“I wasn't. It's just...”

“That I'm going to slow you
down?” she accuses, her anger surfacing.

“Listen, we have more pressing
matters at the moment,” he says. “Either we wait here and get eaten, or we keep
moving. If those things get through, their numbers will slow them down, but I
doubt that vent cover is going to hold them for long.”

April's lips tighten in
frustration, but she swallows her anger and makes her way along the shaft. The
vent feels like a coffin; tight and confined, restricting as April pushes
forward. Long, thin shadows play in front of her as Johnny points the light
between her legs, trying to guide the way. Ahead, she notices another
intersection like a crossroads. Disillusioned, she looks back and asks, “Which
way?”

“Go right,” Johnny replies
offhandedly, not truly knowing which way to go.

“Are you sure?”

“No, but I think if we keep
going straight, we'll run into a wall.”

April bites her bottom lip, trying
to hold back her frustration. “There's no need to be an ass.”

“Can we do this later? I really
don't want to get into a pissing match with you while a few hundred dead fuckers
are trying to pop the top of this fucking vent like of can of tuna.” He angrily
makes his point.

Without another word, April
changes direction and veers off to the right, pulling herself over a
ventilation grate. Bodies wander aimlessly below, oblivious to the duo above
them. April holds back a gasp as one of the creatures looks up at the grate,
but doesn't seem to be able to see through to the other side. Ragged flaps of
skin hang precariously from the corpse’s jaw like lengths of rope haphazardly
thrown off the bow of a ship; dangling and thick with clotted blood. The white
of its eyes stare for only a moment before it shambles off, out of view,
distracted by a noise that is coming from inside the office. April exhales
slowly through her nose and continues to move pass the grate as her hands shake.

Johnny moves carefully along the
ventilation screen, his gaze intently focused on the path ahead. He has seen so
many of the dead that he doesn't bother to look down at the images of what he
fears will one day be his fate. The creatures bring everything into
perspective; you live, you get bit and die, you return to life and feed upon
the living. It was the circle of life, death and reanimation. There wasn’t an
escape from the inevitable.

“April,” he whispers as he
gently taps her leg.

She stops and turns. “What is
it?”

“If you happen to see an empty
room through one of the grates, let me know.”

Raising her eyebrows in empathy,
April simply nods her head.

The silence inside the vent is
unnerving, but it is when the dead wail that the tight confines become
insufferable. Long rasping moans echo, reverberate through the duct work,
hollow and forlorn as if the pain of death is saved for the sorrow of
starvation and yearning. When April listens, she can feel their disease, their
angst and tribulation. The suffering of the dead pulls at her heartstrings in
such a way that she wishes she could personally end their misery, release them
from the moving death that grips their miserable souls. April's compassion
wells deep inside every time she hears their pleas, forcing her to consider all
that she has lost, all of the poor and helpless dead that she has left behind.
Most of all, the creatures make her remember the people she loved, the ones who
fell and she was never able to save.

April slips, dislodging the vent
cover. It twirls downward, spiraling like a coin, landing hard upon the tile
floor with a loud clank before fluttering to a silent halt. Her heart skips a
beat as she stares at the cover far below. Behind her, Johnny stops and tenses
from the noise, waiting for the hungry voices of the dead to rise up through
the vent. An intense silence follows as they both wait for the inevitable.

Throughout his body, Johnny can
hear every vessel, every vein stop in a momentary reprieve and then continue to
surge within his stricken frame as he waits.

“It’s empty,” April says at
last.

Johnny lets out a deep breath,
“Thank God.” He huddles in behind April and whispers, “Can you get down?”

“I think so. There are rows of
tables I think I can get a footing on,” she says, mapping out the room. “It
looks like a computer lab.”

“All right, I'll help you lower
yourself down. Grab my hand.”

Johnny braces his legs against
the inside of the vent and doubles his hands over April's, grasping her wrists.

April's jaw tightens from the
pain. “Be careful, my shoulder is still sore.”

“Sorry,” he replies and lowers
her down slowly.

April makes contact with the
table and knocks over an old computer monitor as she tries to find something
that will support her weight. The screen hits the floor with a crash and a
faint hiss as the gas escapes before it skids a few feet and finally comes to a
rest. She balances herself on the tabletop and jumps down to the floor. Favoring
her sprained ankle, she limps around until the pain subsides before scanning
the room. She makes sure it is clear as Johnny follows, bends his knees, and
lands gracefully on the floor.

 A body leans lifelessly against
the wall at the far corner of the room, disregarded like a child's doll.
Maggots crawl from the cadaver’s mouth as its head drops slowly as if it were
deflating.

April recoils from the rotten
visage and is immediately struck by the sickening smell. The odor is rancid
with decomposition, sickeningly sweet, reeking like bile and piss. She turns
her head in disgust and covers her nose in a futile attempt to keep the odor
away. “Goddamn it,” she says and turns toward Johnny, wrinkling her nose in
disgust.

Johnny stares through the dimly
lit room and his jaw drops as he becomes aware of the body. Slowly, the ghoul
raises its head like a marionette, poised by an unknown force tugging at its
strings. A scowl spreads across its dry, cracked lips, exposing jagged, broken
teeth protruding from dark gums. A flatulent rasp escapes it maw.  Indented
sockets open in a flash, revealing cloudy eyes framed in a bloodshot haze like
a dinner plate immersed in plasma. Bugs crawl from its mouth as it begins to
move its jaw.

Confused by Johnny's expression,
April turns her head and follows his gaze. She steps back, nearly falling as
fright overtakes her. Laggardly ascending, the ghoulish creature bends in on
itself for leverage as it begins to rise, unsteady, but determined. Awkwardly,
it moves its legs. With its feet dragging, the corpse settles its weight upon
stiff limbs and moves in, driven by the hunger it has tried to quench for so
long.

The monstrosity lurches forward.
Wet slaps hit the tile as it moves stiffly toward the couple; its torso sways
from side to side with every step. Johnny hauls a computer monitor from atop the
nearest table and launches himself at the creature, wielding the device as a
weapon above his head. He swings wide and brings it down into the side of the
corpses head. Between the whooshes of an imploding screen, there is a loud snap
as the ghoul’s neck breaks. Its head hangs to the side at an unnaturally angle as
its spine penetrates through rotten flesh, releasing scraps of gore that
project out and splash against the floor behind it. The corpse falls in a heap
and the impact sends maggots from its collapsed skull. Fragments scurry across
the floor and lay at April's feet.

April recoils back with an
uncoordinated limp and tries to put distance between her and the wiggling larva
that squirm across the tile. A sickness wells up inside her and she dry heaves,
drawing thick saliva that flows from the edges of her mouth. Her eyes begin to
water as the convulsions subside. Tumbling backward, faint, April's body
becomes slack like a body ending its struggle, caught in a wave, gently subsiding
to the current of a receding tide. Johnny catches her as she leans back and
grabs her under her arms before she can hit the ground.

“It's okay, he's dead.” Johnny
tries to reassure her.

“It isn't the dead that bothers
me,” she says, swooning. “It's what's left behind that freaks me out.” She
wipes away the bitter bile from her mouth and leans back in Johnny's chest.

He steadies her until she
regains her strength. “It’s gone now,” he says. “Just breathe.”

Her face is flush as she tries
to regain her composure. She fights the building nausea and spits away the film
from her mouth. “I think I’ll be okay,” she says. “Let’s just get out of here.”
She steadies herself against the wall and closes her eyes, making the spinning
go away.

From the window in the office
door, Johnny positions himself against the door frame to get a better look at
the hallway beyond. “It looks clear,” he says, peering past the dislodged
overhead lighting that hangs from the ceiling, “but it’s like a warzone out
there.”

Johnny tries the knob, turning
it slowly to minimize the noise. The door opens easily and without a sound.
Stagnant air greets his senses as the pressure changes, letting a dank smell of
mildew into the room. April follows closely behind him as he makes his way out
into the hallway. Soft, dusty carpet silences their footfalls as they leave,
creeping closely to the wall for fear of being spotted. Splatters of dried blood
pepper the wall, giving way to portions of missing drywall which April diverts
her eyes from, for fear of getting too vivid of an image.

Around the next corner, Johnny
spots an open door that has been pushed inward across the adjacent hallway of
the intersection. He waits and listens. The building creaks in return, as if moaning
out its displeasure at being vacant and unmaintained. These are the moments
where he would stop his heart from beating if he could, just to be able to
listen clearly, just to hear the dead before they know he’s there.

Moving across the hall, Johnny
crosses the intersection and places his back against the wall before he peers
in. He inches his head through the doorframe and into the room. Furniture lies
in shambles, torn and broken, strewn along the floor from whatever mayhem may
have ensued. He motions to April, waves her in and moves passed the doorway.
“It's empty,” he says in a reassuring tone.

Ahead, a door moves, swinging
before it slams shut. Johnny pushes April back, holding her by the shoulder
before he goes to investigate. In a single movement, he removes the pry bar
from the side pocket of his pack while keeping his gaze on the door.

Slam!

The door flies open and thrashes
against the wall as if it were thrown from its hinges. Johnny jumps at the
sudden sound and backs away to regain his courage. Once he musters up the
willpower, he moves closer and looks beyond the door to a stairwell. The door
has been broken inward; a massive footprint stains it, old and indented into
splintered wood. He can hear the wind whistle, moan through the stairwell,
catching the hint of decay from outside and bringing it into his burning nose.
He flinches from the smell and covers the lower portion of his face with his
shirt. He pushes the door open and peers through.