`Bill and Francis broke open the gun locker with a crowbar they found in the maintenance guy's toolkit, and as Zoey and I watched they grabbed a few firearms and tossed them onto a table along with a few boxes of ammo.
"You sure this is a good idea?" Zoey asked, and Bill grunted.
"Better than getting yourself killed, pretty thing" he drawled, handing her a rifle. "Why the hell this shit's here I don't know, you know what they say about gift horses."
"I think they do some hunting here," I ventured, watching as Francis kept stacking weapons on the table. "Part of their activities."
"Fuck, unless they're hunting people I don't see why they've got some of these," he replied, thrusting a semiautomatic into my cringing hands. "Here," he added, "take these" as he slung a bandolier of clips over my shoulder. Zoey gave me a weak grin as Bill fastened a belt of bullets around her waist, then rummaged through the cupboard himself and took extra shells.
"Just like at the shooting range," I murmured, and Bill gave me a thumbs up, then shut the locker.
"Okay," Francis said. "We're a bit safer now that we're all defensible. Let's grab some food and see if this place has any first aid kits, then we'll tell you kids what we know, and decide where to go from there." He grabbed a double-barrelled shotgun, testing its heft with a satisfied nod before grabbing a box of shells.
"Kitchen's this way," Zoey walked us to the stainless steel edifice, and we all grabbed some cold cuts from the fridge. Between mouthfuls, Bill and Francis checked that all our weapons were loaded and ready to go, then herded us out of the office with a bag of spare food to find medical supplies.
I rummaged through the administration office with Bill, while Zoey and Francis searched in the camping supplies area. We rejoined them after ten minutes carrying half a dozen first aid kits and some painkillers, which Francis divided up amongst us.
"Okay. Now, is there a basement, or something securable in this dump?" Bill asked, sliding a stick of gum into his mouth. Zoey nodded, and led us down a staff stairwell to the basement level. There were a series of winecellars down there loaded with vintage bottles, and Francis shook his head.
"Crying shame to waste it all," he muttered, then followed Zoey into a small maintenance storeroom. It was barely large enough for the four of us to all crowd into, but Bill hustled us in and then locked the door behind us and sat on the ground with his legs crossed. Zoey and I emulated him, but Francis remained standing, his eyes trained on the door with his gun in his hands. I swallowed, trying to keep cool. Zoey was paler than ever, and I squeezed her shoulder gently, and was rewarded with a brief smile before we turned our attention to Bill.
"Okay. Here's what I know. A few days ago I was hunting out in the woods a few miles west of here when I came across some human remains, fresh. They were strange, not like victims like an animal attack, but rather as if they'd died of some kind of disease. Not a mark on them except a twisted kinda grin on the lips. Anyway, I called 911 in and the paramedics showed up after a few hours and took the body out. Thought nothing more of it." He scratched as his nose, and reached into the food back, grabbing an apple and bit into it, a considering expression crossing his face.
"I reckon that might have been one of the first. I stayed out for another day or two then headed back to where I'd left the jeep - I do my hunting on foot, since 'Nam. On the way though, I was jumped by a pair of psychos I thought, covered in dirt and blood, screaming and moaning at me. I couldn't shake them off, ended up having to use old Jess here," he patted his shotgun. "And it wasn't easy, they didn't want to stay down. At that point, I began to hurry back to my jeep, and I can tell you it was nice to see her. I went to raise the cops on the radio there, I hadn't wanted to wait in case there were more crazies around. Instead, I flipped on the radio and heard an all-stations disaster message."
"What did it say?" I asked, my hands playing with the barrel of my gun. Bill grinned, humourless.
"I wasn't the only one who'd been jumped by the crazies. There was a warning saying that some kind of virus was making people go nuts, attacking each other and sometimes themselves. Somehow it'd broken out in town, starting at the hospital, and now the whole place was overrun by the psychopaths. The only way to deal with them was to kill them, nothing else seemed to work. They were calling them 'the infected', like there was a war going on."
"And there is," Francis added, still focussed on the doorway, speaking quietly. "I was out for a ride in the mountains when I ran into a group of the fuckers myself. They threw themselves in front of my bike, almost fucking ramming me into a tree. I was able to outrun them for a bit, but they were goddamned fast. Pure luck I ran into Bill in his jeep."
"True," Bill said, retaking up the tale. "I took them out, then Francis and I here headed over to the conference centre. It's the only place where we figured there might actually be people out in these here mountains, and we were hoping maybe either the cops or someone else would be using it as a staging point into the mountains. Instead, it's almost empty."
"That's not our fault," Zoey began with heat, but Bill held up his hand.
"I know pretty thing, not your fault at all. Regardless of that, the question remains what do we do now. There's infected out in the woods, and maybe even getting close to this building. We don't know if they can track by scent, if they can they might be following the trail of my jeep or just sniffing around for people."
"Oh God," I said softly. "They could be here right now, up there."
"That's why we're down here kid," Francis said gruffly. "It's getting dark out there, and that's no time to try to dodge the fuckers. No, I figure we stay here tonight, take turns on watch, and then in the morning pile into the jeep and make a run for town."
"But you said the infected were there," Zoey objected. "How is that any better than here?"
"Well, at least there'll be more survivors around there, we hope," BIll answered. "Also, the cops, the national guard, they'll be centred around the town. We're hoping we can either find a chopper or some kind of help there. Yes, it'll be dangerous, but if we stay out here in the woods with those bastards roaming around, sooner or later they'll find us, hours away from help."
"What a shit choice," I muttered. Bill nodded.
"Yes, it is. But if you can think of something better?" Zoey and I looked at each other, then shook our head. Bill grinned.
"Thought not. Try to get some sleep kids. It'll be a busy day tomorrow."
I was woken by Bill shaking me on the shoulder, one hand still holding the firearm he'd named Jess.
"Come on. Up, Louis," he hissed, gripping me hard along the clavicle.
"What is it?" I said, my voice groggy and somewhat loud.
"Keep that fucker quiet!" Francis hissed, bent over Zoey in the corner of the room. She was muttering sleepily, but he kept pushing at her and whispering at her to wake. I swallowed, and looked into Bill's eyes, inches from mine.
"Why are we keeping quiet?" I asked, my voice low. Bill jerked his head at the door and his eyes grew hard, until I could almost see sparks coming off them.
"There's something out there," he replied in a whisper. "We're not sure what it is, but it's scratching around and we thought it might have found us, but it moved on. We have to get out before anymore of the infected find us, assuming that it is alone."
My fingers shook as I gripped my semiautomatic. "Is it still dark outside?" Bill nodded.
"It's only just after midnight. We've no choice though, if they're finding the centre then by morning there could be dozens of them outside, and I don't know about you kids but I'm not up to that first thing after breakfast."
Zoey stood and pulled her jacket back on before shouldering the hunting rifle she'd grabbed from the locker. "So, what do we do?" she asked. "It's dark out there, we didn't leave any lights on other than the automatic escape ones. How can we get out without light?" Francis grinned, and lifted his shotgun, a flashlight duct-taped to the barrel. He gestured at the table, where there were several more and a roll of the silver tape.
"It's a maintenance room," he said with his voice mirthful. "Found them in a storage closet." I grabbed a flashlight off the table and taped it onto my semiautomatic, moving hastily, then helped Zoey tape hers to her rifle while Francis and Bill gathered together our medical kits and food, stuffing them into backpacks. After a few minutes, Bill looked over at Zoey and I with an eyebrow raised.
"Ready, kids?" he asked, gripping Jess with his right index finger on the trigger. I nodded, and so did Zoey with her breath whistling quickly through her nostrils. Bill gestured at Francis them who clicked off the light in the room and flicked his flashlight on before opening the door.
We filed out into the wine cellar, our lights flickering over the rows of bottles and barrels. Nothing moved in the shadows that we could see, and Francis led us towards the stairs, Bill bringing up the rear.
"Careful up here," he whispered to Francis in the lead. "Don't get too far ahead." Francis nodded and stopped at the doorway to the stairwell, flickering his light back behind us as we came closer.
Our warning was Francis' eyes widening, and then his shouted "Fuck, down!" as he swung his shotgun over and emptied both barrels past Zoey's left ear. There was a shrill scream and I felt warm wetness slam into the back of my neck. I dived forward, forcing Zoey before me and swung around with my semiautomatic raised.
Lying on the ground was a twitching figure, her face missing and blood leaking out onto the cold concrete floor of the cellar. I swallowed as I recognised her, wetting my lips with my tongue, saliva barely coating the cracks.
"Naomi," I whispered, as she twitched one final time and stopped moving.
"That's torn it now," Bill said, ignoring the corpse of my boss on the floor. "They'll have heard the shot if anyone's in the building. We'll have to move fast now, make for my jeep in the parking lot. It's not locked, once we get there we'll pile in and I'll drive us out of here. Francis take the lead, I'll keep in the rear. Louis, you and Zoey keep an eye out to our sides and help Francis if anything comes at us.
I nodded jerkily, still staring at Naomi's body. Zoey squeezed my left forearm, her face painted with compassion. "Come on," she whispered. "We're still alive."
I turned away from Naomi, then nodded at the two other men, and smiled jerkily at Zoey. "Let's go," I said. Francis kicked open the door to the stairwell then and climbed rapidly, flashlight illuminating the bare stairs on the way up and stopping at the entrance into the centre.
"Goddamn my knees," Bill muttered as we climbed, then fell silent at the top of the darkened stairwell. "Okay. Go," he commanded, and we went, darting out into the corridor and jogging towards the entrance. We didn't meet anything until we reached the foyer, where we heard a soft moaning noise.
Beside the coffee urn a pair of figures stood swaying and clutching their heads. As we approached they turned abruptly and with shrill screams they charged towards us, hands outstretched like claws. I stepped back and aimed, pulling the trigger and spraying them with bullets as they closed, flesh accepting the lead missiles with brief pops of blood and skin. Francis finished them with a bullet to the face each and they fell onto the blue carpeting.
"Run," Bill barked, and we darted outside. There were around a dozen infected shambling near the entrance, attracted perhaps by the screaming and gunfire. I moved up beside Francis and held down the trigger, cutting down three of them before the clip was empty. Zoey and Francis then fired at the others before us while I struggled to jam in another clip. An infected lunged at me and I leapt backwards only to see its face explode as Bill emptied both barrels into its chest.
"Come on, Louis," Zoey shouted as she and Francis ran to the Jeep, Bill yanking me forward. I rammed the clip home and spun, running backwards towards the jeep, waving my gun in a half circle. Four infected emerged from the conference centre doors and charged towards us and I carefully aimed a few bullets into the chest of each, bringing them down before I reached the Jeep. The others were already inside, and I slid onto the back seat beside Francis as Bill gunned the engine and spun the wheel.
More infected were emerging from the woods around the centre but the Jeep roared and jerked towards the road, Bill ramming the accelerator down as we made for the safety of the road. Zoey let out an explosive breath.
"Okay. Okay," she whispered. "It's okay. We made it."
"Made it, honey?" Francis snorted, staring at the dark trees spinning past us as Bill accelerated down the hill. "We haven't made it. Not even close."
Behind us, the chasing infected slowly dropped behind as we drove down the mountain road towards the town, the moon tracking shadows across the dash. Bill lit a cigarette, driving one handed.
"He's right kids," he said around the butt. "You did good there, but we're just getting started. There's more of that coming."
Zoey didn't reply, she huddled down into her chair and just shivered. I wanted to comfort her, but I couldn't find the words, because they would have just been lies. And lies wouldn't have helped anyone at all. There was nothing I could say other than to repeat Bill and Francis' words.
There was more coming.