In the basement
Well it was a gray and drizzly, pissy kind of day. Sometimes the weather just knows how you feel and seems to want to twist the knife, doesn't it?
Reg pulled a coin from his weathered canvas pants. They were thick and heavy and worn enough to feel almost soft and were his favorite pants for this work. They were black but faded a pale bachelor gray color that made them look almost a thousand years old. "How 'bout we fight for it this time?" Dave just looked at him. He was no slouch, but Reg was a bit taller and a bit heavier. Dave always wondered how he would do if they ever did get into it, but at the same time never wanted it to happen. They had been together for a long time, ever since they met in school. Chasing girls was what made them a pair in the first place; it was easier if someone put in a good word for you. Dave always did do better with the girls, he had that bit of cockiness they seem to like. Reg pushed a wet hand into his pocket to retrieve his unlucky coin and tossed it into the air.
He called tails; he always calls tails Dave thought, as the coin rolled over and over. When the coin landed it came up heads again. Dave almost felt bad, almost "Looser goes in first" he said as if he had to say it, there was no picking or debating, fair as it could get. Reg laughed "I win! I am awesome at coin tossing" and put the coin back in his pocket. Reg never argued about losing coin tosses, really how could he, sometimes he made Dave toss and call, but he kind of liked going in first. Waiting outside always made him feel just a bit like a pussy, he never wanted to ask someone to do something he wouldn't do himself. He wiped his slightly bent nose; it was dripping from the cold rain. He had broken it as a kid but could not remember how.
"Don't miss me too much while I'm gone" he said to Dave and started down the stairs. "Or would you prefer to just wait out here? I can go get it."
Truth be told Dave was no happier watching a friend walk alone into a bad situation than he was walking in himself, but a little pre-job banter took a bit of the edge off. He responded "just do your job; if you die I'm taking your gun, guns, and your knives. And if you think you are going to die, could you take the clicker with you? Oh, and if there's more than one let me know?"
"Sure honey, I love you." Reg laughed
Dave kicked him in the pants as he walked by and started down the steps. "If there's food in there I'm taking it before I call you down" Reg said almost seriously, fun time was over. He got down the steps to the open doorway. It was early in the day but Reg turned on his chest mounted flash light anyway, Why not? He thought, they don't care about light, and better to make the noise out here. The light wasn't so much chest mounted as it was taped to a loop in his coat. It was just a small LED thing, made in China and had worked flawlessly so far. He wondered if China had infected as well, and why so many things seemed to be made there. I wonder if China has infected, hey, maybe they have trained infected that make all this stuff.
His worn jacket was dripping rain down to his cold hands and his pants clung to his skin bringing him back to the seriousness of the situation. I'd bet they make pants in China that don't stick to you in the rain. He made some of his own clothes; they were usually just to cover the stuff he wanted to hide. Dave did the same thing, if you had any sort of gear; you were in danger of people more than in danger of infected. This is not so good he thought of his cold hands. He hated cold hands, they made him feel slow, and when you need to pull the trigger, you bloody well want to feel it. I hope it's warmer in there, he thought, I need to shake this chill.
Dave was left at the top; the worst part of winning the coin toss was being left waiting. He could see something of the hallway at the bottom, a carpeted floor by the pattern, but he couldn't see anything useful other than watching Reg disappear. "Your good brother" Dave whispered "take your time and we go home tonight, I don't want your guns, or your knives" It looked like he had gone in and to the left. Dave pushed back his wet brown hair to put his mask half way on. It was too uncomfortable to wear for an extended period but he needed to hear the radio that was built in, hopefully Reg would not be more than a minute or two. Unless he does find some food in there, then I could be out here all day. The first one down always had more to risk and he hoped this would go with no surprises. They figured it was better for one to go first because one guy makes less noise and you can't run into someone who isn't there when you start running for your life.
Neither of them were looking to be greedy, they did not need to find some hole full of infected, no big score, they were happy picking off ones and twos. They had made an alright go of it so far with just the two of them, no need for a big operation with too many people, too many trust issues and too many egos. Everyone wants to be a leader; number one or just plain had something to prove. It was best with nothing to prove, two guys with a single goal, split fifty fifty. That was even more of a suggestion, if one of them needed something, that's what they worked for. Dave wondered how you could be a team if you couldn't look out for each other; no attitudes just get it done.
The rain was starting to get through Dave's clothes; it was not cold out, but the bloody rain. It was spring and had been raining more often than not, he supposed no more than any other year but the anticipation of better weather made the rain harder to endure. His toes were cold, I needed better socks, OK, well if I had socks then I'd need better socks, now I just need socks. Why can't I find some non-stank second hand clicker foot socks? What is that guy doing? His thoughts returning his attention to Reg and realizing he had lost track of time. His canvas jacket did not stop the rain and the leather underneath it was weighing on him, his jeans were past uncomfortable.
Counting nine stairs got Reg to the bottom as he planted a boot on the carpeted hallway. This place was probably pretty swank back in its day. Now it's a stained, stank hole clickers piss in. The clicking had stopped but they were pretty sure the thing was still in there. Hmmm, too many doors, three left three right and who knows what's behind any of them.
The first on the left was wide open, but the door on the right was closed. Good enough, we go left. Ugh, Infected should learn to use the can he thought, just because you lose your brain to some shit, does that mean you can't crap in a toilet? Don't they have toilets in China? They smell bad enough as it is. The infection did cause a foul smell that started with the early stages of the infection and got progressively worse.
Reg moved to the open door and scanned the room. No infected, some chairs, trashed filing cabinet and an over turned desk. He flexed his wet hand on the cold pistol trying to move some blood; he shook it to shed the rain water still dripping from his coat. The noise of his clothing and the splatter of water was enough to get the clicker going again but it was obviously in a different room, and no footsteps meant it was not fully alert.
He made his way to the corner and sank to the floor. Pressing the PTT button sewn into the knee of his pants beside the watch, he called Dave."Come down, first left door. Room is empty head kitty corner to first door" It was a pain to wear the masks, especially with the rain but the other option is to pull it out when you see spores. You can't really ask infected for a time out in a bad situation, so they both wore them when going indoors after infected. Better to be uncomfortable than dead they both figured. They had acquired a luxury pair of masks with working radios, which was a real help but cost them, maybe too much Reg wondered.
The ability to talk was really helpful but you still needed to keep it to a bare minimum. Even with the mic in the mask, some of your voice could still be heard. It was better than yelling and in an emergency could easily save your life. They did have to part with a case of ammo, which was fine as all that ammo they had no guns for, but the other guns and ammo was a loss. Well, any gun with ammo is precious now.
Dave made his way down the wet stairs, his boots nearly silent on the steps and he was down into the hall on to the soft carpet, that's helpful except for the squishing sound, the door was bent and held open by a cinder block. Clickers are not known for their ability to be quiet; it was their hearing you needed to be concerned with, and their strength. Weird, almost not human strength that few had felt first hand and lived to describe it. He saw Reg kneeling in the corner and made his way to the far corner of the room. There were two doors from this room to the main hallway and Reg was opposite the first one, Dave moved some folding chairs to take his spot in the far corner of the room opposite the other door and squatted down. Reg reached up into his pack and with a cold hand grabbed the neck of a bottle, pulled it out and looked at Dave. He gave a nod and Reg tossed the bottle at the door in front of him. The thing hit the wall with a thud and the floor with a tink but it didn't break. Huh, I'll have to remember to pick that thing up; bottles are not so easy to come by any more.
The clicker came quickly; it must have been in a room across the hall. It is always better to have them come to you Dave thought, well, at least when you are waiting for them. He raised the pistol in his hand and aimed for the creatures head. POP. One shot, it was not a difficult shot but too loud. He did not want to make more noise than necessary. He did have a silencer but it was not that good. Reg always gave him a hard time calling it a quieterer not a silencer. It was still better than nothing. Dave looked at the pistol for a second, it was a decent gun. Not a misfire since he owned the easy to care for semi, Big enough to take down the oldest of clickers at least, not many pistols would penetrate a bloater with a single shot. Still, this was a good close quarter's gun and small enough to hide in some baggy pants. He looked at the watch sewn into his knee and timed three minutes. It was a brutal wait, but it had saved them before. After a loud noise, if you are in an empty room, you sit three, and then you move. The gun shot and the falling clicker made too much noise for either of them, ya gotta do what ya gotta do.
There was another clicker in there. It was going bananas; obviously it heard the commotion and was interested. The first clicker had only taken seconds to arrive this one had not appeared for the bottle, and it still had not. It must be locked in a room, kill three minutes, then move on.
At the three minute mark Dave looked over at Reg. The exchanged glance was enough and both rose to move to the next room. Down one more room on the left, then the two on the right. When entering a hallway, rooms on the left became the left, on the right stayed on the right no matter which direction you were facing. It made things simple, your left and right became irrelevant to the buildings left and right. They moved to the rear door of the first room and Dave went into the hall first and picked up the bottle. On exit Dave turned to the back of the building and Reg came out right behind him to the front.
The hall was empty as expected, but you need to be careful every time. The clicker was across the hall clicking up a storm in a room with a closed door. If it were able to, it would have been out by now so they were safe to continue with the plan, Dave looked at Reg, took the handle and slowly turned, Reg kept eyes on the doors across the hall containing the other clicker. When he had the door open far enough Dave tossed the bottle to the far corner of the room and waited, nothing happened, no infected.
Quietly but quickly Dave opened the door the rest of the way and moved to the center of the front wall. Scanning the room he found nothing useful and no infected. Entering a room with a closed door was never a good idea, the door always made too much noise and even a sleeping clicker would usually be aroused by an opening door. With the gunshot and the falling clicker, no infected would have slept through that. They were not actually sure that clickers slept, they seemed to go into some kind of trance, like meditating more than sleeping, whatever it was, they were mildly less of a pain. He walked the room, looked at Reg and pointed out, off to the next room. "let's see what's keeping our friend from joining the party." Dave said feeling more confident this was the last one and they were almost done. The rooms on the other side of the hall had full length windows to the hall and shades that were pretty destroyed. Most of the space would be visible with a flash light.
Reg had stepped in the room and did not see anything alarming. He looked over to Dave who just pointed out, great; he turned his attention back to the hall and other doors. The next room was the back right and had a window with coverings damaged enough to allow a good view inside. Reg stepped across and looked in, the window was pretty much the length of the room so he moved slowly along scanning the room. The corners were pretty dark, but he was sure there was only the one clicker behind a desk. It looked like it was caught on something hanging, maybe an electrical wire? He looked at Dave who was now out in the hallway by the rear door to the room.
Reg held up a finger for him indicating there was one known clicker in the room. Just the one probably, but there could always be more. Dave glanced quickly into the room through the dusty window but did not see it. Reg pointed down at an angle, partially hidden by a desk, Dave saw it's legs behind a desk, it must have been caught up by the way it was moving.
Dave opened the door slowly looking over the room, Reg opened the door nearest the exit at the same time, not the best plan, probably stupid but the smell was getting to them and they were getting sloppy. Reg looked at the clicker; it was caught in a noose hanging from the ceiling, a trap designed for infected. It was not to catch people, anyone who could see would avoid it and even if they were completely blind they could easily pull the noose off. Clickers may have been able to see, but they didn't act like it. They did not seem to react to anything they saw, and were not agile. The early more mobile stage passed quickly, but after passing through the runner stage, new clickers still kept much of their mobility and slowly became more clumsy, but more protected and powerful.
When the insanity took over in the first stage it probably damaged the brain but no one really understood why infected people wanted flesh, or if there was anything left of the original person after the insanity. It didn't need a human target, anything that moved, they would try to eat. It was a terrible thing to think about, but he was glad he had never seen a child turn. They never seemed to survive the early stages.
The clicker was suspended with its head about waist level, too high for its hands to reach the floor. Thick skin armor prevented its throat from closing, and it seemed unable to get up on its feet. Dave pulled a baseball bat from the side of his pack and Reg opened the door. Reg went straight in with his revolver cradled in both hands. He scanned the room, again a couple of desks up turned, chairs, one clicker. He gave a nod to Dave who strode over quickly and quietly, WAP, the rope holding the clicker and the bat were enough to break the spine. It also ended the clicking, no more clickers and a runner in the last room would have made a fuss for sure by now. The last room would be empty, but they would have to treat it as unknown, the sloppiness of the last room would get them in trouble if it continued.
This trap was not good they both knew, it was not their trap so someone else was watching this building. It was too late to worry about who set the trap, just get that final room done and get out. Looking through the tattered dirty beige shades it appeared empty. Reg opened the door to the rear of the room and strafed the back wall settling in the corner; Dave followed quickly but stayed at the door. They exchanged nods and that was it. Reg got up and went to do a quick circle check of the room. You never know when you might miss something, so Reg always did a circle. This time he won finding a first aid kit in a desk drawer. It was not complete, but pretty close. Heh, nice clean bandages, tape, a good find.
The two went to check the dead clickers for anything worthwhile. They had found more than a few guns and knives strapped to legs and joked that it was a good thing these infected seemed to forget how to use them. A nice pair of boots would be good, or some other gear to replenish what the masks cost them. Some of these infected were military before they got sick.
Dave got to the one he shot first; definitely not military this guy has nothing. No protection, nothing that could be considered a weapon, no wonder he didn't make it. It had a small pocket knife that was in bad shape; maybe he used this thing to open a can of food, stupid. He looked up at Reg when he approached, "Nothing. Not even good boots" Reg laughed and walked to the other clicker "you need socks not boots" he said into his mask..
Reg left Dave looking at the dead infected lying on the carpeted floor, its blood still spreading and leaving an oddly shaped wet stain. Dave thought about the insanity, swelling of the brain maybe. It probably sucked pretty bad, maybe this was the first time the person that it used to be had some peace since becoming infected. He could not help thinking about it's life, did he have a girlfriend? Kids? Shit this sucked. It was bad from every angle; this is not how life should be.
He did not want to do this. He would never say it out loud, but he didn't want to, on the other hand, he did feel as though he may be doing these people a favor. Maybe there is something else, maybe there is some life after this and they will meet loved ones who are already dead. Maybe these people are stuck in some living torment with this infection? They could be stuck in some kind of private prison. This has to be the proper thing to do. As much as he hated it, he hated hunting these ex people but he hated letting them live more.
Letting these people live to go on hunting others they probably don't want hurt and most likely never even knew. Driven by this madness, this infection it must be hell. Are they looking out the windows of the eyes but with no control of their own body? He stood up, sweat and rain dripping from his mask, If it were me, I'd want someone to end it for me he needed air and turned to walk outside. I just need to breathe for a second. May as well call now to get these two picked up and they are someone else's problem. He walked out to the hall towards the stairs.
Reg was still going over the second clicker when he saw Dave head into the hall. The clicker had a decent knife on his belt and a lighter in his pocket. Where did he go? Reg looked around He should have talked to me first. Whatever, he is probably just looking to get out of this smell, probably puked in his mask. The masks stopped the spores, but they would not stop all the smell. Two clickers would be worth a bit from the military, maybe some ammo, water. They could use both without question.
He shifted the mask to ease the itching seal around his face. There were no old dead in here, no spores. As he stood he heard a pop a too familiar pop, then a shuffle, no, NO! A quick look into the hall to see Dave's body at the bottom of the stairs, most of his head was missing.
Without thinking he hopped up on a chair by the wall and popped a ceiling tile. He heaved himself up into the open ceiling; wet heavy clothes making him work. Reg pulled his knife and stabbed a hole in the tiles on either side of the wall just large enough to see through and waited in the low space of the ceiling. Bastards, he pulled out his bow balancing on the wooden top of the wall. He loved the bow was his, a child's compound bow, small light, but easily powerful enough for a clicker, or a prick.
He wanted to scream, go charging out all "guns a blairin" Wild West style. Not now, these guys will pay, Wild West may be romantic, but you die in the end. Not here, you fucks will die, every one of you. This was not the time to lose it, keep it together; trembling from anger he was hot under his coat. His cold hands long forgotten all he could think about was trying to breathe, "control" he whispered "smooth (he took a slow breath) control" another slow breath.
Whoever it was they were not very good. No patience he could tell already, he was pissed that these guys took out Dave. The one in first must have gotten the short straw, or lost a coin toss. Maybe he was just cocky and thought he was that good. No intelligent person would want to be the first to come down the stairs. Whoever you ended up being first in I don't care, your Short Straw now, and I'm going to end you. "HELLO" Short straw almost yelled. A young guy by the sound of his voice "I'm coming to get youuuuu" Reg almost laughed, it's settling to hear a voice isn't it Short Straw? Even if it is your own, but don't worry, I'll quell those nerves soon enough.
He was pissed beyond words, this guy, HOW? His hands were shaking as he reached over his head to pull an arrow while a rafter at his shoulder steadied his balance. The sad thing is he would never see it coming, he wanted to look him in the eyes and tell him why he was about to die. Short Straw had gone the same route as they did; first room on the left then he called to a friend. Two more came down, one stayed in the hall, one went into the left room. He could hear them talking, they didn't know how many they were looking for. Stupid, he thought, how do you not know how many? Dave what were you THINKING he screamed in his head. YOU WERE BETTER THAN THAT.
Too quickly they went in to the second room then across the hall. You guys are in way too much of a hurry, you're not gonna make me work for this at all are ya. Apparently Short Straw was in a bit of trouble, he was telling somebody he knew the guy was not alone, he was sure there were two, but maybe three. For sure the guy was not alone. "Two or three for sure, and we already got the one." What an idiot Reg said in his mask.
The guy who must have been in charge must have shoved him against the wall as there was a thump and the wall Reg was standing on shook. Its ok, Boss man, take it easy, it will all be over soon enough. Actually, Dave may have something to say about it if you see him, may not be over quite so fast now that I think of it.
"FIND HIM", boss man said, "no one gets out of this stench until we know." Our boy Geoff said there may be two in here, we stay until we have two bodies". Reg decided to call the other guy Odd man because he couldn't think of a name, and that left him the odd man out. Odd man opened the door to the fourth room and threw something it. Some sort of flash bomb as a bright flash came through the tiles, he squeezed his eyes tight and heard Boss man yelling "get on the floor" to the empty room. "SHIT where are they" odd man said when he realized the last room was empty.
Then the opportunity as short straw wandered under the hole in the ceiling tile. The other two were obviously in the fourth room this was too good to miss. Short Straw was in the perfect spot, right under his knife hole Reg could see almost down the guy's shirt. He pulled the arrow back, he wanted to bury it and he did, right inside the clavicle in behind the ribs. Not a whisper as short straw fell.
It was at least a minute and a half before someone noticed he was missing and called for him. Odd man yelled "Geoff's down" and ran to him. Reg already had another arrow but did not want to give himself away. He could not see, nor did he have any idea where boss man was. Should he take the shot? Odd man rolled Geoff over, blood was running out of his mouth but where the arrow had entered was barely a red dot. Boss man finally entered the room but would not go near Geoff; he was at least that smart.
Short straw was a young guy, too nice pants Reg thought, you should have known better. Nice leather jacket by the looks, but hard to tell. Not a protective type coat, and too pretty. Odd man finally realized he was in danger and backed off Geoff. He was still making a gurgling sound now and again, Odd man asked what happened. "I didn't hear a gunshot, silencer maybe? There's no wound I saw", he kind of half asked half told. "Shut up for a minute, I gotta think for a minute" Boss man said.
Finally, Reg thought, about time you two started using your brains. Then another chance, Reg could not believe these two, Odd man and Boss man had gotten on either side of the wall under his knife holes. Odd man could not help but go look at Short Straw and Boss man stepped out of the room into the hall. Reg put the arrow in the pack and the bow in his teeth then pulled his pistol and the Shorty. He aimed the Shorty in Odd man's direction and the revolver at Boss, he pulled two triggers and two men fell.
He made sure boss man went, he was in sights when the triggers were pulled, Shorty was pretty much sure to hit something and it was better boss dead for sure, odd man was less of a threat, especially injured. There was no need to worry, boss man's head was an open can of worms, odd man took most of Shorty's spray in the back. He had a hole in him the size of a foot ball. Reg sat on a ventilation duct and called for the pickup of two clickers using a military channel on the walkie. Good for 15 miles, made in China.
The military guys did not arrive until the next morning. The sun was shining and it looked like it should be a nice day. Reg had not slept much and was up at first light. He had taken the dead crew to the back right room and taken anything they had worth taking. Short straw looked to have something in his right pocket but when Reg went to check it was the end of his arrow. It had gone in the left side of his neck and gone through. Reg pulled the arrow through "I'll hang on to that thanks" he said to Short straw. Aside from his arrow, they had two radios, one bush rifle two semi pistols and four decent knives between them. In their packs he found some dried meat, which seemed to be a staple for most people, a couple of road flairs and the rest he left. Reg put the pistols and knives in Short straw's pack and took it, the rifle got strapped to his pack.
. Reg pulled the clickers to the bottom of the stairs, Bugger those military guys, they can pull these two out themselves. He had pulled Dave's lifeless body outside and stripped a tree of most of its branches, whatever he could get off without a saw. Reg took Dave's gear but left him fully dressed, he was not going to demean his friend. Dave could take the rest with him, where ever he was going. He sat on a rock and wept while his friend was consumed in the fire. The ass holes in the back can rot where they are. There were a few people milling about but none bothered about the action, they all had seen it before and it was enough to deal with your own troubles, no need to get into someone else's.
The military guys arrived much earlier than he thought they would and quickly loaded the clickers onto a little trailer pulled by a pickup truck. There were four of them, two watched and two worked. Only the military had reliable vehicles now, they also had the biggest guns. The soldiers were loaded and ready to move out before the sun had even put warmth into the air. Reg just sat on a curb and let them work.
They told Reg that they had no ammo or water on hand because they were out on a run to get other clickers yesterday and had some "other issues" The soldiers said they were stranded out over night and it was true that there were other dead clickers in the trailer. Reg opted to go with them to the water plant rather than take a "military note" that they may or may not honor. He was not happy about going because he didn't trust them and it was a good distance away. You never knew, they could decide not to drive him back and he'd be stuck. "Bloody hell, they could just kill me and who would complain". Still the promise of ammo and water was too much for anyone to pass up, he climbed in the bed and snoozed as they drove off to the treatment plant. No need to worry about what you can't control, may as well enjoy the ride"