DUSK 2
The inside of the building was dark, and reeked of mildew. Years of water damage and mold had turned the walls brown and black in places. There were still blood stains on the floor and walls from when the building had been cleared. Several battery powered lanterns were hung on the walls, but only one in every five were lit. The only other light in the room seeped in from gaps in the boards, which barricaded the windows.
The sound of the undead pounding on the windows, doors, and walls, trying to make their way inside seemed to grow louder with every passing moment. After two days Catherine thought she might get used to the sound, but she didn’t.
Back home, they could go outside. The ghouls were still there, but they had been held back by a sturdy wall. There was a lot more space, and their moaning, groaning, clawing, and bashing was not audible everywhere in the colony. There were clubs and restaurants. Everything functioned.
Now, they were stuck in the confines of this rat trap. Not only was the sound of the dead inescapable, but they were crammed inside with the living, like sardines. The cries of infants and the grief of the adults were inescapable. The only rooms which offered any solitude were the bathrooms.
The death count was estimated at seventy. Everyone in this building had lost loved ones, but they could lose face. They could mourn. Catharine could not.
Ever since Robert had died, everyone looked up to her. After all, who better to lead the survivors to victory than the wife of a legend? Robert had been in charge of pretty much everything. He volunteered to help the guards. He helped Catherine at the hospital. He was in charge of the colony’s news. He was on several government comities. There was nothing Robert Thorn did not have his hands in.
Catherine had been much the same way. She worked as a nurse and medic. She helped with the news flyer whenever she had time. She had joined a few government comities. Whenever possible, they worked on the same comities and projects so they could spend time together.
Now she was alone, with no time to mourn her loss. Others counted on Catherine Thorn, a woman who had not led a single military operation, a woman who had been a nurse, a woman who was married to a real hero. Catherine wished she had been killed instead. If Robert was alive, he’d know what to do. Her husband would have had a plan.
Catherine walked through the dark hallways, checking on every guard post. She supposed that while she was in charge, it was her duty to keep morale as high as it could stay, and her presence helped. The survivors had great respect for her husband, and by extension her.
“How are you doing?” Catherine asked when she reached the two guards stationed at the front door.
“They won’t stop pounding on the walls. The sound’s driving me crazy,” a young guard said.
The guards were standing with their backs to the wall, keeping an eye on the door and windows from as far away as they could. The doors and windows were sealed tight with steel bars, and were boarded shut from the inside. Nothing undead was going to get inside, just like their home.
Catherine shuddered at what had happened to their home. The undead weren’t ever supposed to be able to get inside.
No, Catherine though, there are bigger problems.
The problem they faced now was leaving. There was no way for the undead to get in but the refugees had no way to get out. Back home, they had the gates and a way to send units out to scout and get food, but the building’s garage was not easily accessible. Getting the vehicles in and out and closing the doors would not be an easy task. There was not enough room to move trucks around and they had not taken enough vehicles to make a proper expedition.
They were only able to leave with four Mack trucks. Each had been crammed tight with survivors and whatever supplies they could take in the rush to leave.
If Catherine could not come up with a plan soon, the people who counted on her would all starve to death.
The reality was made worse by the constant pounding and moaning outside. Catherine wanted to aim her rifle out of the window and open fire, but she had to conserve her ammunition. Everybody did, because they did not know when they would need it. If they had to leave, they were going to need all of the ammunition and medical supplies they could carry.
“It’s like they’re taunting us,” the soldier said.
“Don’t let them get to you,” Catherine said, “because there’s no way they’re getting in here.”
The soldier did not seem to believe her, but he did not say anything else.
Catherine continued walking, and made her way up the stairs. On the second floor, Catherine made her way past several guards posted at windows. She quickly greeted them and answered a few questions, then went on her way.
Since none of the windows were boarded, the second and third floors were much brighter than the first. Had she spent all of her time down stairs, Catherine would not have known that the sun was shining outside.
The pounding and moaning of the undead was not as prevalent or oppressive as it was on the first floor, but the noise was still audible. Inside of this prison, there was no escaping the undead. With every bang and moan, Catherine could hear Robert’s death cries, as if the ghouls still had him outside, tearing him apart though he would never die, like Prometheus in hell.
Catherine made her way into the medical center, which was a filthy room covered in dust. Hardly any natural light made its way into the room, so it was lit with electric lamps. There were twenty beds set up, but only seven were occupied. Each were minor wounds from friendly fire, zombie attacks, or accidents.
The most serious wound belonged to a seventeen year old girl named Erica Garrison. She had broken her arm when she fell from the second story of her second story apartment, but like everyone else, physical injuries were the least of the girl’s worries. When she was fourteen, her father died of a heart attack. Her mother committed suicide a week later, which left only her older brother to take care of her. She lost him when the colony was flooded by the dead.
Every once in a while, one of Erica’s friends, or her boyfriend who was on guard duty would visit, but Erica was alone most of the time. Catherine visited the girl in her off time, not only because the girl was alone, but because Catherine knew exactly what she was going through. Catherine had been through the same ordeal twenty-two years ago.
The other doctors, nurses, and medics were running the hospital, so Catherine would only be needed if there was a massive influx of severe injuries. Catherine did not greet the other patients or medical staff when she entered, but made her way straight to Erica.
“Hi,” Catherine said.
“Hello.”
The girl was lying down with her head propped up on a pillow. Her right arm was in a sling, and she was playing with her hair with her left arm.
The girl’s hair was long, red, and straight. Before their home had been destroyed, when the colonists could take daily showers, Erica’s hair had been quite beautiful and shiny. Now, it was a rabid mess of tangles, drenched in sweat.
The refugees had been away from home for two days, where there was no access to showers. Already, people were starting to smell.
“The infection’s gone,” Erica said.
“That’s great,” Catherine said, “I’d have hated to see you turn into an amputee.”
The girl smiled.
“I don’t think I’d have liked that much either.”
“Well, I’m glad to see you smiling for a change.”
“It’s nice to see you smile too, Mrs. Thorn.”
“Call me Catherine or Cathy, please.”
The girl nodded.
“Excuse me, Cathy,” a nurse named Tori said.
Catherine turned to face her.
“Yes?”
“Frank Cross is waiting outside,” Tori said. “He says it’s urgent.”
“I’ll be right there,” Catherine said.
She turned to Erica.
“I’ll see you later okay.”
“Bye.”
Catherine made her way out of the hospital wondering what in the hell could be so important. Was a barricade loose? Did the raiders who attacked the colony find the rest of the survivors? Whatever it was, it probably was not good.
“Mrs. Thorn,” Frank said, “I need you to take a look at something from the roof. We have to hurry.”
“What’s the rush?”
“We’ve spotted a car headed this way.”
“Do you think it’s them?”
“I don’t know. It’s just one, so they might not attack us right off.”
“You said it’s just one?”
“That’s all we saw.”
Catherine followed Frank through the hall and up a flight of stairs which led to the roof.
The guards on the roof were all facing the eastern direction. Catherine assumed that’s where the visitor was coming from. They were lying down low, with their rifles aimed in the direction of the car. Most of the rifles were close ranged automatics, but two of the six guards on the roof were armed with longer ranged hunting rifles.
Though if only one car was going to assault the refugees, the attacker would be out gunned, and out numbered, Catherine doubted that victory was sealed. Only three cars had attacked before, with relatively light artillery. The attack had been mainly aimed at weak spots in the walls. The aim had been to let the ghouls do the work.
Such an attack would be devastating on this enclosed environment.
“You’re the tactical mastermind, should we wait until he shows signs of aggression to open fire?” Catherine asked.
“If he’s hostile I doubt we’d have seen him without his buddies. Besides, that’s not one of the cars that attacked us,” Frank answered.
That didn’t make Catherine feel any better. Once again, Catherine felt helpless, as though she were at the mercy of the world. She had felt the same way when here parents were killed, when the epidemic started. She felt the same way when her brother died from a bite a week later, and she had to put his corpse down with a baseball bat. It was the same feeling Catherine had when she saw three ghouls pull Robert to the ground and tear open his stomach. All she could do was watch in horror as one of Robert’s comrades shot him in the head to end his suffering.
All she could do now was wait to find out if the people in the approaching vehicle came with hostile intentions.
When the car was a hundred yards away, Catherine could make out the silhouettes of two or three people inside, but not much detail. Then the car was fifty yards away, it stopped.
As the car idled, several of the ghouls stopped pounding at the walls, windows, and doors of the building, and turned their attention to the car.
The driver’s side door opened.
“Are they crazy?” Frank asked.
A figure emerged from the driver’s seat and stood. It was Sam.
“I don’t believe it!” Frank said. “Lieutenant Paterson, you crazy bastard! I’m glad to see you.”
“It’s nice to see you again too Cross,” Sam yelled.
About twenty of the undead were stumbling towards the car.
“Lay down some cover fire,” Catherine told the guards.
They did as they were instructed, and shot the straying zombies in their heads.
“The garage is on the other side. Pull up there, we’ll make sure you can get in,” Catherine yelled over the gunfire.
“Sure thing. I think we’ve all got a lot to talk about,” Sam said.
Sam sat down in the driver’s seat and slammed the door. The car scooted ahead, leaving the approaching zombies in it’s wake.
“Frank, get some men in the garage!” Catherine shouted.
Catherine sprinted from her position on the rooftop, and down the stairs. Catherine ran past several groups of refugees huddled together against walls and soldiers watching their posts. Catherine made her way down to the first floor, and ran to the garage.
She halted by a near by window and shouted at two guards, “hey, I need you over here!”
“What in the hell is going on out there?” one of the soldiers asked.
“Just get over here and give us some cover. We may need it.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Catherine opened the door, and made her way into the motor pool.
“Keep this door opened and keep an eye out. If it’s ripe, shoot it,” Catherine instructed.
She let the strap of her rifle slide off of her shoulder so she could grip it in both hands. Sam and the others were going to need all the cover they could get. Frank was doing everything he could from the roof to draw the undead to the other side of the building, but there were still bound to be enough stragglers to cause trouble. Some would also likely be attracted to the car.
Six guards waited by the garage door. Three of them were lighting torches, and the other three had rifles. Catherine did not like the idea of having an open flame inside of the building, but it seemed like the only way to repel a massive crowd of ghouls.
“Be ready on my signal,” Catherine said.
The soldiers nodded.
For what seemed like an eternity, but could not have been more than thirty seconds, Catherine and the guards waited. Then the sound of an engine grew outside.
The door was a sliding steel door that could be pulled upward by a chain. Catherine rushed for the chain and pulled the door upward, opening the garage to the outside.
The car was only about ten yards away and getting closer as Catherine opened the door.
The soldiers with the torches rushed towards the door, waving their flames at any ghouls who tried to enter the building. The soldiers with the rifles opened fire on any ghouls who came to close to the torch men.
The outside was saturated with the sounds of combat. There were gunshots coming from inside of the garage, aimed at the approaching ghouls. There were gunshots from the approaching car. There were other sounds as ghouls threw bricks with lousy aim, only hitting a window or wall. A few bricks, stones, or bottles flew past the soldiers and into the garage, where they clattered on the floor. It was amazing nobody was hit.
When the car was safely in the garage, the torch men backed away from the door, and Catherine let go of the chain, letting gravity slam the steel gate shut. She secured the chain on a metal hoop in the ground and walked to the car as Sam cut the engine.
The car doors opened, and Sam climbed out of the driver’s seat, Catherine could see Jack in the rear passenger side seat. In the front passenger side, there was someone Catherine had never seen before. The stranger was a girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen years old. She had long black hair, and a pretty face. It looked like Catherine would not be the only one with a story to tell.
The passenger side door opened and the girl climbed out of the car. She was caring a large rifle with a scope.
“Catherine,” Sam said, “I’d like you to meet Helen York.”
Helen remained silent, and her eyes drifted around the room in a suspicious manner, finally settling on Jack.
“It looks like you have a lot to talk about,” Catherine said.
“I was about to say the same to you,” Sam said.
“Are the others dead?” Catherine asked.
Sam’s head hung, “yeah.”
In the years Catherine had known Sam, he had never coped with casualties well. Each soldier who died under Sam’s command was a personal failure, a time that Sam did not do all he could for those who depended on him. Eight men had left, and only two returned. Sam must have been putting himself through hell for the last few days.
“How many groups did you split into?” Sam asked.
“Two, there are about a hundred and fifty troops here and a hundred and fifty at the other hold out,” Catherine said. “We haven’t had any contact with the others since we left.”
Catherine led the guards, Sam, Jack, and Helen out of the garage, and into the main hallway. She led them up to the second floor, where the makeshift planning room was. Unlike home, there were no armed guards or closed meetings. Anyone could give input, but those who did not normally attend before they left seldom did so now.
Inside, there was a dinner table large enough to accommodate six chairs. There were about twenty more chairs along the walls around the room. A map of the area was fixed to the wall opposite of the window, which had the position of the other settlement marked. The current mission was to find a way to reach the others. Catherine had no idea what was going to come next.
“Take a seat, it shouldn’t be too long before everyone else arrives,” Catherine said.
Sam sat down at the table without saying anything. Jack took one of the seats along the wall, and Helen sat next to him. In the little time that Catherine had observed the girl, she noticed that Helen stayed close to either Sam or Jack, and she stayed a lot closer to Jack. The girl looked uneasy, like she was afraid to be around people. Not once did Helen let her rifle get out of her reach. Perhaps the weapon was a safety blanket of some sort. In any case, Catherine was both eager and dread to hear the girl’s story.
She looked a lot more comfortable when Jack took the girl’s hand.
Catherine took her seat at the head of the table and turned her gaze to Sam.
“So is Rob with the others, or is he about to join us? I’m surprised I haven’t seen him already the way he has his nose in everything,” Sam said.
He sounded like he was not expecting good news.
“He’s dead,” Catherine said.
“I’m sorry,” Sam said.
“Don’t be. I know you two were close. We lost a lot of important people.”
“Lieutenant Patterson, it’s good to see you back, but sir you look like shit!” Frank said from the doorway.
Catherine hadn’t herd him approach.
She turned her gaze back to Sam and noticed that he did look like hell. There was dried blood on his lip, and his eye was swollen. Sam’s cheek was bandaged, and crimson had leaked through the white gauze, drying into a black color. His fingers were caked in blood.
Jack was in just about the same condition. His face was bruised in several places, and he had a busted lip. His clothes were covered in blood, but there was no way to tell if the blood was his. Catherine was going to have to ask what happened, but not yet.
“It’s just going to the five of us, so you two kids can grab a couple of seats at the table,” Frank said.
Jack and Helen got up and made their way to the table. As they walked over, Jack kept his right hand on Helen’s shoulder, while she gripped the boy’s left hand with both of hers. When they reached the table, Jack pulled out a chair, and Helen sat. Jack then took a seat next to Helen.
“You guys go first. I want every detail,” Sam said.
“It happened two days ago around noon. We spotted three vehicles approaching the gates, and the alarms sounded,” Frank said. “We had no clue what they wanted, and we thought they might be you guys.”
“So only three cars brought down the base?” Sam asked.
“Yeah. They stayed outside of our range, and fired rockets right at our walls. It was like they knew every damn weak spot in our defenses. The bastards never engaged us directly, but tore enough large holes in out walls for the undead to do their dirty work, then they drove away.”
Sam didn’t look surprised at any of the news.
“Something similar happened to the colony we were inspecting, but we saw the aftermath of a more… hands on approach,” Sam said.
“It couldn’t have been them. They hadn’t sent out a scouting party,” Helen said.
“I think it’s your turn to talk,” Catherine said.
“When we found the source of the transmission, the base was down alright. There were holes blasted in their perimeter, but it wasn’t the work of a small group of bandits. A whole damn army had been through there. It was obvious this had not been the work of the undead,” Sam said. “As we left the base, we were attacked, and half of use died there. If it wasn’t for Helen, Jack’s head and mine would be on pikes right now,” Sam said. “Who’s in charge of the other location?”
“Kyle Franklin and Scott Hunter,” Catherine said. “General Hamilton was killed when he went back to the war room. My husband was killed trying to save him.”
Catherine found it hard to fight back tears, but she won the battle, just like she had every time a rush of anguish came close to overwhelming her in the last two days.
Frank moved to the map and pointed to the location of the other survivors.
“The rest of the survivors are here,” Frank tapped the map, “about twenty miles from our current location. We’re maintaining radio silence partly because we don’t want to give away our positions, and partly because much of our radio equipment is back home.”
“Do you have a plan to make any kind of contact?” Sam asked.
“We’re working on it. Right now, we have no idea who might be watching,” Frank said.
“Listen, if they’re that good, then they probably already know where we are. I think it’s a chance worth taking,” Sam said.
“Okay, when do we send a team?” Catherine asked.
“Later today, before it gets dark,” Sam said. “A few of us are going to have to go on a trip anyway.”
“What?” Frank asked.
“As far as we know, the cure wasn’t a fake,” Sam said.
“You have it?” Catherine asked.
“Yes, but there’s more,” Sam said. “When we reached the source of the distress beacon, there were no survivors…”
In her surprise at the statement, Catherine eyed Helen. If there were no survivors, then where in the hell did the girl come from?
“but something wasn’t right. There were holes in their walls from artillery, and when we got inside…” Sam looked down. “The ghouls don’t do… that. We got the hell out of there, but we were caught by a patrol. If it wasn’t for Helen we’d all be corpses right now.”
Helen was looking down at her hands, which were folded on the table.
“The group that we ran into was part of a cult, who move from city to city like a swarm of locusts. They kill everything in their path except for the children.”
Catherine did not know what to make of this last statement.
“They forced the children to assimilate into their world,” Sam said.
Jack put a hand on Helen’s shoulder.
“They killed my parents in front of me when I was seven,” Helen said.
“So you’re one of them?” Catherine asked.
“I was. Not by choice.”
“She saved our lives. She saved mine twice,” Sam said.
Catherine fell silent.
“We split off into two groups. Jack went with Helen to kill the cult’s leader, and I went off with Paul and Zach to destroy their stockpile of weapons. I was captured, but Paul and Zach didn’t make it.”
Sam put his hand on his cheek, where a bandage was covered in dried blood.
“They had to wait until morning, but Jack and Helen were able to kill the cult leader and get me out of there with the cure.”
“How in the hell did you get a chance to find the cure?” Frank asked.
“Helen figured that if it was still around, the cure would be in the messiah’s quarters, and she was right,” Jack said.
“In light of what’s happened, I think it’s best if we keep news of our discovery in this room,” Sam said. “If there’s another attack, it’s best that they don’t know what we are sitting on.”
“What about our people?” Catherine asked.
“They’ve got enough on their minds,” Sam answered.
“Well what do you suggest we tell everyone?” Catherine asked.
“Tell them we found nothing,” Sam said.
“How are we supposed to hide it?” Frank asked.
“While we’re out,” Sam said. “We’re going to have to visit the others anyway.”