Chapter 46: The Crane
15 HOURS UNTIL FAILSAFE
The survivors huddled together in the lobby of the office building they had stumbled into for what felt like hours, not talking and hardly daring to move. The moans of the Infected in the street drifted in from just outside, and Bill was glad that the door was made of wood instead of glass.
"What the hell do we do now?" Francis murmured.
"I reckon they've calmed down a bit," he replied quietly. "Let's get further inside."
That said, the group carefully made their way further into the building and shut the next door, further muffling the moans of the Infected.
"Hey, check this out," Louis called. The others looked to see him shining the stout barrel-mounted flashlight of his Glock at a large sign on the wall that read: 'MERRILL LAW OFFICE'.
"What do you call five-thousand infected lawyers?" Zoey deadpanned.
"Five-thousand more assholes tryin' to kill us," the stocky man to her immediate right grunted, flashing her a lopsided grin.
"Gee, way to lighten the mood, Francis," she smiled. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Bill watching her, and hated how it made her feel like she had done something horribly wrong.
It was Louis who asked the million-dollar question. "So what's the next move? We can't go out into the streets right now."
"Why not head up?" the former college girl pointed out. Everyone looked to see her opening a door to reveal a tight concrete stairwell. "Hey, Bill. It's your favourite – stairs!" she teased, in an effort to ease some of the tension that hung over the group.
Bill grunted in annoyance, but peered up the staircase anyway. Going up would at least get them somewhat clear of all the Infected out in the streets. "Let's head on up then."
"Let's go check down there first," Francis cut in, angling his flashlight toward the white-painted doors behind the receptionist desk.
"For what?" the war veteran suddenly snapped.
"I don't know, fuckin'... stuff!" he snarled. The two hardened men locked eyes in challenge.
Louis and Zoey sensed the hostility in the air, and kept quiet.
"Let's keep moving up," Bill said, his voice eerily calm. "There ain't gonna be nothin' down there we can use."
"You got a point," Francis agreed sourly. "Fuck looking through the office building for stuff – all that's gonna be down here are staplers and paperclips. I hate staplers and paperclips, so we'd better get outta here now, before all those assholes outside sniff us out. If they break in while we're lookin' around, you're fucked. And I ain't gonna be here when that happens."
"You done?" The older man said shortly, his steely gaze never wavering.
The burly biker clenched his jaw, his gloves tightening as he gripped his HK MP5. But something made him back down and he finally shifted his eyes away, muttering unintelligibly as he reloaded the submachine gun.
"Speak up, Francis. Your voice got all muffled from your head being so far up your ass." Bill moved off before he had a chance to answer.
Zoey made to follow him up the stairs. She shot the biker a questioning look as she passed him, but he refused to meet her gaze.
"What's going on?" Louis whispered to her as they made their way up the stairwell.
"I don't know!" she hissed back. Goddamn it! There was an entire army of ravenous Infected just outside, and yet here those two were, having some sort of slap-fight. She thought they had left all this alpha male crap back in Fairfield when she berated them in the truck depot. She had obviously thought wrong.
After going up several floors, they found that, shockingly, the rest of the stairwell had collapsed. The entire upper portion was completely gone – almost as if it had been destroyed by a gas explosion. Or a grenade.
"Looks like we aren't goin' that way," Bill muttered as he led the group out onto the main office floor.
Their gun-mounted flashlights illuminated a neat layout of office partitions and cubicles spread out before them. Darkened screens of computers that would never be used again reflected back the light. The lack of windows was sadly a common sight in offices these days.
"Louis, did you work in a cube like these?" Zoey said, smirking.
Her light-hearted rib appeared to have the desired effect – he and Bill visibly loosened up, the former grinning at her. Perhaps it was just the stress of all the recent combat that was making everyone irritable. The fact that they had not been attacked in the law office yet could be taken either way, but the young woman chose to take it as a good sign rather than a suspicious one. Her smirk broadened into a smile, although it faded when she noticed Francis glaring daggers at Bill.
"Through here," the old man said, heading toward the far side of the office floor. "Let's see if there's another stairwell."
The rest of the team followed him, carefully making their way through the dark maze of partitions. They kept their pistols on hand, ready to fire at a moment's notice, but each cubicle they passed was empty.
Zoey really wanted to keep her cautious optimism up, but –
"Wonder why it's so quiet in here," she commented quietly as they passed a row of dying pot-plants.
"If it makes you feel any better, there probably were five-thousand infected lawyers in here," Francis replied. "Bet they all got drawn out into the street when that Hunter threw my ass into the car."
"I hope you're right."
"Come on," Bill said from further up ahead. "We gotta stick together, people – this dark office makes for a real good ambush spot."
"Alright," Zoey called. "Through the offices!"
"Hold up." Louis was peering inside the fridge of a small kitchenette, tucked away in the corner. "Found a couple of water bottles."
"Good find."
Zoey, meanwhile, had discovered that there was indeed another stairwell on the northern end of the building. "Hey, Bill," she grinned. "More stairs!"
With that, she led with her SIG-Sauer up the staircase, her view upward blocked by the various landings. Their footsteps echoed off the concrete walls, but there was no other sound to be heard, until –
"Son of a bitch," Bill growled, coming to stand beside Zoey on the landing two floors up.
The upper portion of this stairwell had been destroyed as well.
"How could both the staircases be messed up like this?" Louis wondered out loud.
"The army must've blasted the stairs to prevent the Infected from coming up to reach the rooftop," Bill mused. "Crazy bastards, blowing two grenades like this. Could've brought down the whole building."
"So much for the easy way…" Zoey murmured. She looked out into the floor they had come to, her flashlight revealing a similar scene to the one below – a network of office cubicles spread out into the darkness. However, looking toward the east face of the building gave her an idea. "Follow me," she said, leading the way out into the office space.
"Where are you going?" the oldest member of the group demanded.
Wordlessly, she pointed at the windows that lined the east wall. Everyone caught on and cautiously spread out, peering through the gritty windows.
"Hey, there's a fire-escape over here," Louis called out. "And it looks like it's connected to a crane that we can use to climb down to the lower rooftops."
Bill came over and looked out the window in question. The younger man was right – if they climbed up the fire-escape on the building's exterior face, they could gain access to a small construction crane on an adjacent rooftop, by using a gangway that had been set up between the top platforms of both structures in question. Then it would be a simple matter of climbing down the crane to the adjacent roof. However…
"Zoey," he said quietly, gesturing for her over and moving aside to give her room. "Reckon you can take out those Infected hangin' out on the crane?"
She nodded silently, holstering her pistol. She shrugged the Winchester strap off her shoulder and lifted the hunting rifle to her shoulder, bringing her eye to the scope. Sighting four Common Infected standing at different positions on the various steel girders and platforms of the structure, she selected a target and then squeezed the trigge –
"Hang on a sec," Bill said suddenly from behind, startling her.
She shot him a puzzling look over her shoulder.
"Here," he said, grabbing her shoulders and gently turning her to the side. "Now brace the butt higher – against your shoulder, not the joint. That way, the recoil won't hurt your arm." He gently, but firmly repositioned the rifle, and then stepped back, seemingly satisfied.
Louis and Francis remained silent during the exchange.
Zoey nodded her thanks at Bill, turned back toward the window and brought her eye to the scope again. She carefully held the rifle as steadily as she could manage, took a breath, and then waited until she finished exhaling before taking the shot.
BLAM!
The Winchester barked as a bullet zipped out, striking an infected man in the head. He jerked back, a puff of red flying into the air, before falling off the crane like a limp ragdoll. The former college girl lowered the rifle and drew back the bolt, ejecting the spent bullet casing onto the blue-carpeted floor in the process. With fast and expert precision, she plucked a new bullet from her holster, slid it into the chamber, jammed the bolt back into place and drew back the safety with a final CLICK.
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
The three remaining Common Infected fell from the crane, one after another. Zoey kept the rifle raised, just in case any more appeared. None did.
"Nice work, kid," Bill said, a smile creasing his face. "You're a crack shot."
She finally lowered the Winchester and shot him a smile in return.
"Alright, out the window then," Louis piped up.
Bill nodded and made to climb through the window, but Francis pushed past him, machine gun at the ready.
"I got this, old man – the MP5 is wieldier for close-quarters anyway. You watch our six and make sure nothing's sneaking up on us."
The burly biker led the way out onto and up the steel-framed stairs to the top, where the wooden gangway had been set up, connecting the fire-escape to the small construction crane on the adjacent rooftop.
"Looks sturdy enough."
He gingerly stepped out onto the wooden plank, testing how his weight would affect it. It sagged slightly, but fortunately held.
Zoey released a breath she had not realised she was holding. When it came her time to cross the gangway, she made the mistake of sparing a glance down at the large crowd of Infected in the streets below.
Oh god, it was a long way down.
"Wonder why they bothered to set this whole thing up," Louis said suddenly. "Bridging the law office and the crane, I mean."
"I got your answer right here," Francis called from the top platform of said crane. He passed around a crumpled and blood-spattered piece of paper when the others had had crossed over to join him. "There's a safe-room in the Harbour View Hotel, not too far from here. Some gangways have been set up across the roofs, straight to a stairwell which can be taken down to it."
"Where did you get that?" Bill asked.
"From him." He motioned to the slumped body of a crane operator, minus the hardhat, an arm, and half of his torso.
The others grimaced at the sight.
"He was clutching this piece of paper like it was his last lifeline or something," Francis continued. "Probably wanted to make sure future folks who came through here knew where to go."
Bill cast a sorrowful glance at the dead body. Another good man dead. He wondered what sort of person he had been. Obviously a selfless one, seeing how his last act had been to create a bridge to the safe-room and leave instructions on how to get there.
"Put the directions back," he said. "If any future folks come through here, they'll need to know where to go as well."
Francis nodded and carefully placed the folded sheet of paper in the dead man's breast pocket.
"Alright, lead the way," Bill said. "Let's move."
The four survivors carefully made their way down the crane using the ladder, past various work platforms. Louis was glad Zoey had taken out those Infected from the office window earlier – it would have been much harder to deal with them from the ladder.
After a few minutes of climbing, everyone finally reached the bottom of the crane, and Bill was glad to have his feet back on solid ground again. However, he paused when he heard a strange noise – it was a thick and guttural retching, choked, heavy, and very nearby.
"Hold up," he said. "Anyone else hear that noise?"
"Yeah…" Francis replied, his eyes narrowing.
At that moment, the perpetrator stepped out from behind the base of the crane.
"Holy crap!" Zoey cried.
What had once been a man was now bloated to horrific proportions, his stomach straining with whatever foul fluids were swimming inside it. His entire face and arms were festooned with hideous boils.
Bill stepped forward and raised his rifle, but before he could shoot, the rotund man opened his mouth and vomited all over Francis. It was absolutely disgusting – a foul-smelling green sludge slewed down the shocked biker's front.
"Fuckin' sick!" he roared, wiping the gunk from the top of his chest, and then aiming his MP5 at the monstrosity. "You're gonna get it now, Pukey McGee!"
"Francis, don't!" Louis yelled, but it was too late.
BOOM.
As it turned out, shooting a man that already looked like he was about to burst was a bad idea. He exploded – vanished in a foul explosion of blood, gore and green bile that coated Bill from head-to-toe.
"GODDAMN IT!" he shouted in shock, turning to curse Francis furiously. His rant was drowned out by a terrifying chorus of ravenous howling.
Zoey looked over the edge of the roof to a see a frightful change in the behaviour of the Common Infected in the streets below. They all began to rush into the building through doors, some even diving head-first through windows. She noticed that many of them had their heads tilted to the sky, sniffing the air furiously.
What on earth…
Her train of thought was momentarily disrupted by a foul stench assailing her senses. She looked toward the source of the terrible smell to see Bill, dripping in the rank bile, still cussing Francis angrily, while the latter spouted defiant retorts.
The horrifying realisation hit her a moment later.
"Uh, guys? I think we have a problem…"
Everyone immediately looked at her.
"What is it?" Louis asked in alarm.
Zoey gestured to the disgusting bile that covered Bill and Francis. "Whatever that crap is (thank god none of it was on her), I think the Infected can smell it, and it's making them stir-crazy."
Bill peered over the edge of the rooftop to see the Common Infected storming the building in a murderous rampage. He could already hear the growls echoing off the walls and stairwells as they made their way up toward the roof. "Aw, hell…"
"Shit! What do we do?" Louis exclaimed in a panic.
"We haul ass to that safe-room!" he barked. "Run!"