Every breath I took made it feel as though my lungs were solidifying in my chest. Between the burning in my chest and the adrenaline coursing through my veins, my body felt like it was on fire! Sweat began to bead on my brow. Slowly, we made our way to the alleyway between the bank and what appeared to be a small hardware store. The six of us lined the wall, eyes at the ready.
My heart began to race as I slowly peered around the corner. With nothing in view, I raised my hand to motion Todd and Tim forward, as they quietly moved toward the two massive glass doors of the bank, posting themselves on either side like beefeaters, the guards that protect the queen of England.
Looking through the cracked glass doors, Todd turned back toward me, signaling the all clear. We all moved in closer to the doors, ready for the unexpected.
I moved up behind Todd, my heart thumping like a conga drum. Wide-eyed with excitement, the men hung on my every command. Todd scanned the lobby one last time and with one swift smack, with the butt of his gun, the glass shattered into tiny pieces onto the lobby floor.
With my weapon poised and aimed, I crept through the open glass. Looking around I noticed that all that seemed to be present were massive amounts of deposit slips littering the floor and a desk that had been overturned in the corner. Dread began to fill my thoughts.
“All clear!” I shouted, as the men filed in one by one. Once inside, we began to look around and try to scavenge through the mess all around. Searching for some signs of survivors, we looked all around the lobby, but to no avail. My eyes began to focus on a small, brown object lying near the tellers’ cage. I walked over and to my horror noticed it to be a small child’s blood-stained teddy bear. I stood there frozen, staring at its beady little eyes. A lump formed in my throat, as the image of my son leapt into my mind. All the things in my life I lost from the epidemic began to fade in and out of my subconscious.
I nearly jumped out of my skin as a hand touched my shoulder. It was Marcus. “You ok?” he asked, “You’re pale as a ghost.”
‘I’m fine!” I snapped, dropping the toy and wiping a tear caught in the corner of my eye, “What’s the status?”
“Lobby is clear. No sign of anything. I have a bad feeling about this. We should load back up and go!” he explained, looking despondent.
“No, let’s hang out a bit. Something isn’t right!” What was bothering me more than anything wasn’t that we had not found anyone; it was the fact that our presence had not caught the attention of any walkers that may have been in the town. “It’s too quiet.”
“Maybe they’re off taking a leak.” He joked. Humor was Marcus’ way of diffusing the fear from the situation, yet I could tell he also had the same concern. Nice to know a few words could still bring a little giggle from me.
Todd kept watch out of the windows, while the others rummaged through desks for anything of use, supplies we might need or the pack of cigarettes left behind. I stood near the tellers’ cage, contemplating our next move, when the smell overcame us!
“Holy fuck, what the hell is that?” Tim being the youngest of us, and more than likely the weaker stomached of us, noticed it first, covering his nose as he gasped for air. Imagine the smell of rotten meat mixed with the metallic hue of blood. So overpowering, Tim lost it right there, yakking on the floor.
“Where in the hell is it coming from?” asked Shane.
I noticed a closed door near the back of the tellers’ cage. “It’s coming from the back, through that door.” It was the only logical place it could be. “All of you keep watch on the doors, I’m gonna check it out.” Slowly I moved through the tiny, swinging door on the tellers’ cage, weapon cocked and ready. I slid up to the closed door. Turning the unlocked handle, I pushed it open with a swift kick, revealing a dark hallway. Wham! The smell hit me like a ton of bricks, nearly knocking my ass to the floor. With one hand covering my mouth and nose and my other one poised with my gun, I reeled back, waiting for something to jump out at me. All seemed clear.
The hallway was dark, evil dark. I clicked the flashlight on my shoulder on and slowly peered down its dark passageway. The left side had two doors marked with gold plates under their frosted glass windows, one on the right. These had to be offices no doubt, managers and loan officers. Blood trails streaked down both walls and on the floor, leading to the very end. I followed them with my flashlight, the odor finally reaching its apex, to the end of the hall where a gigantic steel door stood, obviously the safe. My mind began to envision all the horrible things producing the smell behind its massive front, evil, ugly things that caused the blood and the smell. With my nerves on every end, anticipating the worst, I walked toward it. Partially ajar, I raised my hand to its blood soaked handle, ever ready with the M16. I pulled, swinging its massiveness with an evil creak. The giant hole reminding me of a huge sewer hole, funny, it smelled like one too! I slowly raised my flashlight, sweeping it from side to side, as I moved deeper into the awful smell. A small, gray puddle came into view on the floor of the safe. This didn’t look good! Following the puddle to the back, a wrinkled, decayed hand came into the light. I raised my light. “Holy fuck!!!!!” I exclaimed. There, lying on the floor in a pool of blood and brain matter congealing together, were at least a dozen dead decedents, heads bashed in, stacked one on top of the other. Gagging, I turned and ran back out of the safe, slamming the door behind me. Panting to catch my breath, I tried to shake the images from my mind, even the dead ones creeped me out.
This felt wrong. Dead walkers in the safe and not a single survivor, I questioned who did this? Was there someone we were missing? Had they left before it got bad? I definitely knew that our being here was now a waste of time. I decided to gather my men and get us the hell out of Dodge!
I didn’t feel the initial blow to the back of my head, yet I could feel the pain coursing down my back and neck. My eyes began to water and blur, as the door to the lobby began to fade out. My knees gave way and I hit the floor on all fours. With one last effort of strength, I tried to pull myself up, body weakening with every second that ticked by. As I hit the floor, my body lay limp, the last few images faded from my sight. All I could think about was how I had failed my men. “Choke on them!!!” I mumbled to whatever was about to consume me, as my eyes closed and I feel into sleep.
“Do you know how lucky you are I didn’t kill you!” a voice said out of the darkness. I opened my eyes noticing everything blurred and out of focus. Did I die back there? Was this heaven? Was that the voice of my guardian angel? All these thoughts danced in my head, as I tried to bring my eyes to focus. I lifted my head, the pain a swirling torrent, banging at the back. I sat up, the burning rising in my chest, reaching my tongue, as the bile burst from my mouth. I vomited so hard, I thought my bowels were coming along too for the ride.
“Take it slow. You have a concussion. Take deep breaths, in through your nose, out through your mouth.” the voice came again, giving me advice. I must be dead. The voice sounded like my mother and she had been dead for years. Oh God, please let me be dead!
I followed the sound of the voice, the room slowly coming into focus. A makeshift camp had been set up in what looked like one of the offices here in the bank. The room, much larger than I pictured, was lit by a single gas lantern set up on a chair. Shadows were cast all around giving the room an evil ambiance. Tin cans of fruit and veggies had been stacked neatly next to the chair, along with a small space heater keeping the room nice and warm. I was lying on a bunk roll, laid out over a desk, covered in wool blankets. Standing over me, with a pail she used to catch my heave, was the most angelic creature I had seen in quite some time. There was a sincere beauty to her, one that needed no make-up to enhance. Long blondish-brown hair fell at her sides to the small of her back like a waterfall of fire. Soft green eyes that reflected like emeralds against the lantern light. Lips that pursed into a perfect almond shape, reminding me of supermodels from the days of my youth. She was definitely an angel among the devils left in our world. Her blood-stained white blouse was see-through, due to perspiration, revealing a perfect set of cantaloupe shaped breasts, encased in a lace white bra. Her black pencil skirt and nylons were dirty, tattered and torn, from her obvious fight here in the bank. I could have assumed she had once worked here, when business was still booming, but I knew better than to judge a book.
I touched the top of my head. Bandaged, I could feel the warm liquid swirling around inside. The pain was still swimming. “What the fuck happened?” I asked. She shot me a look of consternation.
“Are you serious?” she scolded me, like a child who took a cookie before dinner. “You, Mr. Rambo, just compromised the safety and integrity of my safe house! Zoms can smell fresh meat, and you just led them to us!” The fire in her eyes grew with each word she spoke. She was perfectly beautiful, I couldn’t help but stare. “Are you even listening to me?”
I snapped back to the conversation, the blood slowly rushing to my head. I could feel the vomit coming on again. I turned toward the bucket, the bile coming out again in waves. She handed me the pail as I lost the last bit of anything in my stomach and grabbed a chair near the heater.
“Listen, Princess, If it wasn’t for us, you would still be here alone. So, cut me some goddamn slack, will ya?” I retorted. After my puke spell, my throat became dry and barren, a hacking cough forming.
“Here, drink this. Take it slow or you will puke again!” she ordered, handing me a cup of water. “I know it’s warm, I’ve had to boil all drinking water. It is better to be safe than sorry.” She explained. Her softer, more nurturing side was a lot better than her bitchy side. Slowly I sipped, the refreshment washing away the dry and burn.
“How long have I been out?” I asked.
“Thirty, maybe forty minutes. I’m sorry about your head. I thought you were one of the many zoms that have warbled in here. I panicked. You saw my handiwork, so you know what I was up against. Again, I’m sorry!” Her remorse showed that in some deep down place she was actually very glad to see us. She looked at me with empathy, extending her small hand. “I’m Brie, Dr. Brie Larson.”
“What specialty?” I asked, taking her soft, willowy hand in mine, as they merged perfectly together. Again, reminding me of the entire good still in our world.
“Epidemiology, It’s the study of epidemics and the viruses which cause them. I calculate the rates and variables that cause the spread and how much time it will take to reach certain populaces. I was working in my office in Atlanta when I got a call on August 10th of a viral outbreak in Detroit. This being “Ground Zero”, I hopped the first plane out and arrived that afternoon.” She explained, “I needed to see what we were dealing with.”
“So you’re from the CDC? How did you end up in Ann Arbor alone?”
The tension began to rise in her eyes. “Well, soldier boy, when the infected dead began to come back to life, the city was evacuated; it was deemed no longer safe to stay in or around it. I was ordered to set up my lab in New Detroit, where everyone was told it was safe to stay. I worked there tirelessly to study the virus and see what measures could be taken to block or even cure the affects of it. Everything was going good; we all felt safe. Morale around camp was very high. Any zoms caught within the perimeter fence were shot and killed immediately, reassuring our feelings of safeness, which is until two days ago.” She stammered. I could feel the fear in her voice as she continued. “I was in my tent working on slide sample analysis, when the screams echoed throughout the camp. Rushing out to see the cause, my heart about leapt out of my chest when I realized that zoms, hundreds of them, had plowed through the perimeter fence, taking it down, and attacking any living thing in their way. We were overrun and overpowered! I ran back in my tent, grabbing what research I had already come up with, and ran, running faster than I ever had in my entire life. I can still hear the screams when I close my eyes!” she looked down at the floor, sorrow consuming her as the last words left her mouth. “I ran until I couldn’t anymore, fighting my way east on 94. I made it here yesterday. The entire town was deserted and moved to New Detroit, so I scavenged what supplies I could from the various open stores here and walled myself up in the only place I saw safe, the bank. With its massive vault I figured I could hide in there if the dead came back into the town. Until then, I figured I hide up in one of the offices until I could regain enough strength to work my way east again.”
The heat began to rise in my face again, as I realized what she had just revealed to me. “Wait, you mean to tell me that BCND is gone? There is nothing left?” I asked, as the horror washed over me.
“Yes,” she replied, “I don’t know if anyone survived or if anyone else escaped, but I would take stock in the fact that all base camps will eventually become wastelands.”
“But that means.........” I began to explain, when the office door burst open nearly giving myself and Dr. Larson a heart attack. Marcus, his face as white as a ghost, looked at me. “Sir, we have company!”
“How many?” I asked, looking out the windows of the lobby. Walkers had finally decided to make themselves known. Todd turned toward me, eyes as cold as steel. “It looks like thirty, maybe forty, coming up both sides of Main, moving slower than molasses in a jar. ETA looks to be about ten minutes.” He reported. I knew we had to move fast.
“Dr. Larson, grab your research, nothing else! Marcus, go fire up the monster! We need to blow this popsicle stand now!!!!” and by my order they both went on their separate ways. It was about 100 feet to our transport, so with the speed of Hermes, he ran to her, opened the back hatch and fired her up with a hum that soothed my ears. It was time to make our move.
The dead began to close in on us, as we moved to the vehicle. Tim, who hung back to protect the front of the bank for Dr. Larson, stood with his back to us, watching for any walker close enough to pop. Being still woozy from my head wound, Ethan helped me walk to the APX. Shane and Todd used suppressive fire on any walker close enough to us. I could see the scene around me as Ethan helped me in, the dead closing in on us in minutes and me feeling so helpless, dread began to seize me.
With Ethan having joined me on the seat and Todd and Shane still popping round after round off, Marcus jumped into the .50 caliber rifle turret on top of the APX and began hitting dead heads like pimples before the prom. It seemed there were just too many. Time was running out and we were very close to becoming a meal.
Now I know this is going to sound really cliché, but you know those really dramatic action scenes where everything around the main character slows down to 1/10 of its normal speed? Well that is exactly what my mind’s eye began seeing. Pop…, pop…, pop…, the .50 cal. shot off rounds in slow-mo as each head exploded in dazzling precision. Shane, turning to Tim at the doors, screamed, “Let’s…move…!” and that’s when I saw it.
It had to be the biggest fucking zombie I had ever seen since the epidemic. This burly, fat and gross fucker comes slinking around the corner of the bank from the alleyway. Tim, who was yelling for Dr. Larson to hurry, was unaware of the impending doom slowly working its way toward him. As I yelled for Tim to look out, he turned on his heels just in time for the big walker to wrap its arms around him and with the strength of an ox, brought him to the ground. What I remembered most, as the scene sped back up to normal, was Tim’s screams as the fat fuck ripped into his tender neck flesh like a thanksgiving drumstick. Blood and skin began to spray all around, coating the entrance of the bank with its fine mist. Each rip and tear at his neck brought his screams to a head as the last gurgle could be heard and his body go limp. Tim was dead!
As the portly walker kept tearing and ripping into, the guilt washed over me. I had lost another person in my care to these bastards. The other walkers had apparently taken notice of the new feast in front of the bank and turned toward it, leaving Dr. Larson in the path of dire jeopardy. Shane knew this too, and ran out of the vehicle, running toward the entrance of the bank. With a single shot he dispatched the big guy eating Tim and ran into the bank in a blur. Four more ugly ghouls made their way from the alleyway as the others moved in unison toward the entrance. This was it! Tim dead, Shane and Dr. Larson soon to follow, we needed to get out of there now. I ordered the departure. Each man looked at me with the dejection I felt inside. The entrance became overrun and walkers only feet away from us it seemed only right.
BOOM!!!!!!!!!! The entire front of the bank blew out. Pieces of zoms and building began crashing in around us. Thump, thump, thump; body parts hitting the ground like it was raining zoms. Sadness hit me as I realized Shane’s sacrifice to save us all. All of us just stared at the smoke cloud coming from the bank. How could this mission turn into such a butt fuck like this? With two of my men gone now, the lovely doctor as well, it seemed only natural to preserve our lives now. We had lost this one.
Ethan pressed the button to close the hatch, as the smoke began to clear from the wreckage. Silhouetted within the last remnants of the cloud were two figures emerging from the blast. “Stop the door!” I ordered. Looking out, with hope in my mind, I prayed that these weren’t rouge dead protected from the blast. It felt like hours before a voice came out over the air, as Shane, with the doctor in tow, emerged from the smoke to join us. A joyous relief came over me as the two ran into the vehicle, positioning us for departure. With a blast from the smokestack and the doors sealing itself away from the last remaining horrors working their way toward us, Marcus turned us around on Main and pushed us back toward business 94, plowing through the last remaining zoms in our way.
“Miss me?” she asked, as the good doctor looked on me with gratitude. Slowly, a smile rolled across my lips as we headed for the only natural spot left for us to go, home.
