The
Zombie
Chronicles

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Finished works:
   Billions
    ---
   Outbreak
    ---
   Undead
     Advantage
    ---
   Found
    ---
   About a Woman
    ---
   Short Stories

Works in Progress:
   TZC2: Discovery

Works on hold:
   Zombie Nation
    ---
   Zombieboy

Found

Chapter 22

Brian pushed his way past the second door, the room was dark, with only the limited light from the hallway gloomily pouring in. There was a rusted old metal shelf and a half rotten wooden chair visible in the murky darkness. The room looked like it went on for ten feet or more, but only the first three feet or so had any signs of recent activity, the rest of the stuff looked like forgotten storage. A backpack sat on one of the shelves, on top of a blue tarp, leaning up against it was a walking stick, a modern one, lightweight and sturdy as opposed to a wooden staff.

Anything is better than nothing. Brian thought, grabbing towards the stick, plus it will serve as a crutch. Then his eyes adjusted and he saw what was lying on the top shelf, on another blue tarp. A short shotgun, what some people referred to as a 'coach gun' and many mistook to be a sawed off shotgun. Only this was made this way, not sawed off. Brian knew the difference between the two, a coach gun was wildly inaccurate at even pistol ranges, it was designed for close in destruction and would devastate unarmored opponents out to about half the range of his 9mm pistol. A sawed off shotgun had the end of the barrel removed, the 'choke' part, which gave such a weapon any accuracy at all. Sawed offs were even more inaccurate than pistols, probably worse than anything but the worst 'Saturday night specials'. Brian would take a coach gun over a sawed off shotgun any day of the week.

This one was modern too, not a double barreled break open to reload gun that most people were familiar with in western movies. This one was semi automatic, single barreled and was loaded like most modern shotguns through magazine underneath the barrel. It probably had either a three shot magazine or a five shot magazine, depending on what state Jake had acquired it in. Offhand Brian couldn't remember what the shotgun laws were in Kansas, where Jake most likely had picked it up. He didn't care either, he grabbed the gun and tried not to think about what had happened the last time he had encountered a super zombie when carrying a shotgun.

Flipping the flap of the backpack open he was disgusted to see a packet of blood lying on top of a small insulated cooler made up with wires and what looked like a heating coil. A light snack for when he gets back and some more for the road, thought Brian. He let the flap fall without rummaging through the back further.

As he stepped back out in the hallway he heard a loud crash from the cellar upstairs and could see the flames pouring down the stairwell following the fluid that now ran between Brian's feet and disappeared under the doorway behind him, the doorway to the storm sewer.

Hobbling quickly Brian juggled the shotgun in his right hand while using the walking stick under his left armpit to support his injured leg. As he went up the stairs Brian heard Mathew still tugging on the chain that held him to the wall.

His head emerged from the floor first, a white smoke was starting to accumulated in the room and funnel up the stairs to the main club. Several shelving units had been knocked over, like dominoes, right next to the stairs leading up. In front of that doorway Brian saw Jake standing on the shelving unit bent over pulling a box out from between the shelves. he was muttering to himself, words Brian could not quite make out over the club music and the sounds of burning alcohol. Jake looked worse for the wear to, several bullets had gone through him, none, unfortunately appeared to have done any lasting damage. Bracing the walking stick into his armpit for support Brian aimed the coach gun and and took a bead on Jake's head.

He squeezed the trigger and was rewarded with a loud boom and seeing Jake pushed backwards fully into the hallway leading upstairs, his feet, still twitching, were all that were visible of him through the hazy smoke. The force of the blast had threatened to topple Brian back down the stairs too, I am lucky I brought this damned stick to brace myself with, he thought. Keeping the shotgun aimed at the still moving feet Brian slowly stepped up another step, trying to ignored the fact that his feet were straddling a burning stream of fire. Movement under the shelving units caught his attention, he didn't shift the gun a single millimeter, if the feet started to rise he was going to at least cut one of Jake's legs off with another shotgun blast. His eyes however lowered slightly so he could watch the movement under the shelves and still keep watch on the legs.

A hand came through the shelves, a pale, thin hand, followed by another one clutching Brian's pistol.

“Kaylee!” Brian yelled as he hobbled forward.

Screams erupted from the club upstairs, the smell of smoke had finally reached them.

“Brian! I'm okay, I can get the stuff out of the way to get out, but I am okay!”

Going painfully to one knee when he reached the hands Brian tried to pull Kaylee out with his injured left arm ineffectively, while keeping the shotgun aimed at the doorway. In doing so he inadvertently dipped his leg into the fire, it only a second for the flames to start their greedy consumption of his pants.

“Fuck!”

“Brian?”, called Kaylee, who had never heard him use the word before, “What is it?”

“I'm on fire, dammit!”, this last was said as he pulled his hand back from Kaylee and tried to beat the fire on his pants out. In his mind he was reciting the mantra of 'stop, drop and roll', and thinking about how such advice never took into account the fact that there might not be anywhere to roll that was not already on fire. While he was distracted he didn't see the feet pull themselves up off the stairway, when he glanced back they were already gone.

“Oh fuck!”, he cried out trying to bring the shotgun back up.

“What?”, asked Kaylee, who had managed to get her head and shoulders out from underneath the shelves.

“He still moved, thats impossible! I shot him in the head, a clean shot right into his fucking head!”

Kaylee grabbed a nearby towel that had spilled out of a box and used it to beat on the flames on Brian's jeans, then she just smothered them, putting the fire out for the time being.

Brian kept the shotgun trained on the stairs bracing it with his left elbow. Kaylee managed to pull herself up out of the debris, rolling a few huge cans of refried beans out of the way in the process. She paused to look at his cut face and noticed the way he was cradling the shotgun.

“You're hurt!”

“Its not as bad as it looks, head wounds always bleed a lot.”

“And your arm too.”

“And I twisted my knee, think of all that therapy I'm gonna have to repeat,huh?”, he smiled when he said it, the effect was gruesome, but Kaylee smiled back.

“Can we go up the elevator?” asked Kaylee, pointing towards the back wall where the service elevator was located.

“Yeah or there is a way out down below too. Matt is down there.”

Helping Brian to his feet, Kaylee called down the stairs for Mathew. They didn't get an answer.

“Do you think Jake is gone?”, Kaylee asked nervously.

“No, I don't think so, but when the fire department gets here, he'll take off. Probably out through the kitchen.

“He better, I called Flo and filled her in before I came looking for you, I found your gun on the floor upstairs. She said she was calling in the cavalry.”

“What? Oh man we better go, we don't want to be caught in that.”

Even as he said the words gunfire erupted upstairs, backing away from the stairs up Brian and Kaylee moved towards the narrow stairs leading down. Jake slithered through the doorway from upstairs moments later. His face was a wreck, it looked like someone had skinned half of his head, blood was pouring out of many wounds from his body and one of his eyes was pulped wreck. He paused slightly when he saw Brian raise his shotgun, then smiled and said, “Going for another shot detective? The first one didn't work so well did it?”

“You're right”, Brian said, lowering the gun slightly, he fired and his shot took Jakes left leg off just below the knee, spinning Jake around back into the stairway, where a fusilade of bullets poured into him. Jake tried to stagger back, but he had no leg to catch himself with and fell sideways near the wall on top of one of the fallen shelving units.

Brian thought it was over, but he could not have been more mistaken. Jake's voice came from the shelves, eerily strong, “I tried the easy way, I tried reasonable, some things just don't learn, don't want to learn and deserve to die. I get to live, I am life too and I will defend myself!” His body floated upwards and righted itself, turning towards Brian and Kaylee, who hopped backwards to the service elevator. Jake hovered towards them, like a banshee and Brian shot again, hitting Jake in the stomach and flinging him across the room like a rag doll. The force of the shot pushed Brian over backwards, where he landed on the service elevator, the shotgun still clutched desperately in his right hand. Kaylee pulled Brian's legs up onto the lift, none too gently then turned and pressed the 'Up' arrow near the controls. The effect was less than they had hoped for, the elevator moved, but it crept up slowly, it was designed for lifting tons of kegs and supplies up and down and worked on a slow hydraulic system to handle the load. The lift was incredibly slow. Shocked Kaylee turned back towards Jake and pointed Brian's pistol at him. By this time Jake had circled around the room and was approaching them from one side, the hole in his stomach from the shotgun blast had pushed his entrails out of his back and they trailed behind him like a bloody cloak, dripping and defiling everything they brushed against. As Jake closed Brian shot again, but the hammer came down with a sullen click.

I guess Kansas is a three shot magazine state after all. Brian had time to think before Jake slammed into him and Kaylee, knocking all three of them from the lift onto the floor. Kaylee took the worst of it slamming the side of her face into some shelves and cushioning Brian's body against the floor as she fell.

Raising his hand Jake punched Brian in the face. For a brief second Brian's vision was filled with white light, and growing black patches of darkness, then it cleared and he saw Kaylee pushing his gun up against Jake's good eye and pull the trigger. Eyeball, blood and bone sprayed from the wound out into the room to be stopped abruptly by the cement wall. Jake's body fell heavily to the ground and moved no more. Kaylee scrambled to Brian and lifted his head into her lap, rubbing the blood off of his face.

“Oh God, Kaylee, oh God!”

“Its alright Brian, its okay, I think he is dead this time.”

“No, not that; my head wound! His blood! I'm contaminated!”, Brian wailed.

As his consciousness dimmed Brian felt Kaylee lifting him up and moving him from the room.

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