บท 11: Please, Can She be Left Alive?
A near-dead, exhausted group of five tough fighters and a crying woman looked directly at a hospital. They were covered nearly head to toe in blood and sewage, but they gripped their weapons with a tight determination. The building stood thirty stories tall, far above the surrounding structures.
A few straggling zombies attempted to ruin this powerful moment, but it was undeterred, as the now expert undead slayers absentmindedly sent bullets through their brains.
"Soooooo?" Francis asked, breaking the silence. "Has anyone been here before or do we just wing it."
Bill finished grabbing a cigarette from his fresh pack before pointing to the left side of the building, "We can take the ER entrance. Emergency rooms in hospitals like this always have an elevator close by to bring patients to other floors quickly. Hopefully, the there's still one up and running and we can ride it all the way up. If not, we got..." he looked down at his watch.
"A little over an hour to climb to the top and with the chaos of the start, we don't know how many places the people inside tried to block the stairwells."
Facing no argument, the group came upon the emergency access and found several ambulances, some of them were overturned.
"I'm no doctor," Deshawn remarked, "but I bet we can find some magic packs in these."
And find, they did. From no medical supplies, to three med-kits, Jason wore one of them himself.
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In the waiting room of the ER, sat 5 boomers, lounging around.
"I never thought they would group up like this," Jason said as he took aim on one.
The sight was interesting, in the gross sort of way. The rolls and pustules of this type of undead was always unnerving, but so many, so close together, was disgusting. They sight would have made Spencer look not-hideous if he were still alive and with them.
"Get ready!" Jason warned.
*Bamm*
Oh the zombies did come, but only about 50 of them. And then they stopped. At this point, 50 zombies was pretty tame. They all had packs with ammunition and the way the zombies backed in the tight halls made it so double and triple kills were not uncommon.
One room, by one room, they made their way through the floor until they found an elevator shaft. The doors were pried open and smashed to look like a tank type zombie had ran into them.
Francis spat out a curse, "Well shit, I hate walking."
As everyone else was ready to give up, Bill went ahead and poked his head through the door. He shined his flashlight up and inspected the elevator.
"Brats like all of you are always in a hurry," Bill hummed.
Bill ignored the remark on his age from Francis and shared his findings. "There's some blockage at the third floor, and I don't see how far the elevator is above that. It looks like the power is still on, so if we reach the fourth floor and call it down, we should be able to skip most of the climb."
Jason gave the old man a thumbs up and even Francis thanked him for noticing. They backtracked and found a maintenance stairway. Thankfully, it wasn't blocked, but that didn't hold true for long. The way to the third floor was full of desks, tables, and filing cabinets moved there that blocked the way up.
"You, Yououou, shook me aaaall niiigghht long!" Francis sang off key as he fired rounds at the incoming hostiles. If some of his shots missed his targets by a mile, he told himself it was intentional.
The second floor was a wide open atrium. The place had some scattered tables and the common sight of bodies, but it appeared that it had been used as food court in the past.
The wide open area had plenty of ways to get in, so the forces of the undead scourge took full advantage. They weren't coming in a giant cluster, but instead they came in a steady pour, one appearing in the zombie slayers' view every several seconds.
Bill was the first to notice the correct way to travel, as usual. He pointed towards wide open stairwell that had a signs that read, "3F Administration".
It didn't take long as they made their way through the floor before the zombies stopped coming towards them. They reached the stairwell to the fourth floor when Francis broke the silence, "Good riddance. I hate dealing with them for so long."
A soft crying noise sounded out from somewhere on the fourth floor when the group was stopped by an abrupt harsh hiss from both Deshawn and Jason, "STOP!"
The duo looked at each other before Jason explained quietly as crying was now coming from both directions, the back and the front. "Flashlights off, everyone quiet. And that means you Jenny."
After catching his serious look, Jenny bit back mid sob and hiccuped.
"Well.. that should be quiet enough," Jason trailed as he wondered what he did in a past life to deserve this. "Its a witch, a special type that likes to be left alone. And we would be better off sneaking past it."
"Nah," retorted Francis as he flicked his flashlight back on. "If it moves it can die, stop being a pansy."
"What?" Jason's jaw dropped in confusion.
"You didn't hear me the first time, kid? I hate being told what to do and its just a zombie. Some are faster and tougher than others, but they all die from a bullet."
"Francis!" Zoey hissed, "One brought down a fucking building on our heads before we met you, some take more than a bullet."
"You too? Whatever," he waved as he casually lead the way. He would have kept climbing to the fifth floor, but it was blocked, so they had to find another way and he wasn't going to be afraid no matter what. "Its probably just some other crazy woman, not like there was a sane one before this mess. Why else would the floor be clear."
"Prey no where to leave the fuck alone," Deshawn groaned as he checked his weapons.
Francis looked back to them, "So? You all coming? Just cause you all are being retarded about a crying noise, doesn't mean I'm breaking off from the group, lets goooo," he finished with a flourish.
The others tentatively held their weapons and flashlights low while the biker was getting irritated at how fearful they were acting. "Calm down, come oooooon, if you let yourself be prey here, your'e gonna dieeeee."
The only reply he received was a hiccup from Jenny and the echoes of crying that seemed to come from every direction like a surround sound system. There was no way of pinpointing which direction the unnatural noise was coming from.
"Aww, see! We're here, the elevator says its on the 28th floor and has power," Francis hit the elevator call button and the group eerily watched as the number went from 28 to 27.
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