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Zaun stopped talking. Tears were rolling down his face. “I still can’t close my eyes without seeing dead bodies, hearing the cries of people as they suffered.”

Jack hadn’t thought about what it was like from a topsider’s point of view. He had been one of the lucky ones, removed from the immediate chaos, the front lines. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Zaun so down, let alone cry.

“You did what you had to do in order to survive,” he said. “You did the best you could, and what was right for you.” Jack didn’t necessarily believe everything of what he was saying, but wanted Zaun in a positive frame of mind. He, himself, had no idea how he would have acted if he had been left in his apartment, his wife one of the undead. He would like to believe he would have tried to help people, but not having had to endure it directly, he truly didn’t know. Zaun was more of a loner, having no family and not many friends. The guy only did what his mind was capable of doing: dig in and survive.

“Only when I stopped hearing things,” Zaun continued, “did I finally get up the nerve to leave my apartment. I hated myself for being such a coward. I was relieved by the quiet; that there was no one left to save. I thought about killing myself, seppuku style, the way a samurai would have offed himself, but that was only deserving of a true warrior.

“I forced myself to eat, pushed my self-loathing down deep, realizing I could do nothing to change the past. I decided to see if there was anyone still alive. But the whole damn building was filled with the dead or undead. I was angry, pissed off. I hacked those undead fucks to pieces, but I quickly found that the only way to stop them was to separate the head from the body. I put all my years of training to use, except it wasn’t like fighting people. The undead were slow and stupid. Only in numbers were they formidable, intimidating.

“I started with our floor, clearing out the undead, dumping the bodies down the elevator shaft. I went through each apartment, looking for survivors, gathering up supplies, food as well as soap and whatnot. There were so many of the undead; I had to take breaks regularly. Sometimes, I’d have to run away, and then half the floor would be after me, chasing me into the stairwell.

“Then, one day when I was walking down the stairs, I heard a woman cry out. I ran down, saw her enter on the third floor. A zombie was on her tail, a kid of all things. I lopped his head off, then followed her to her apartment. She wouldn’t let me in, so I bashed the door down. She was crazy, all scratched up and bleeding. She didn’t want to come with me. When I went to grab her, she bit me.” Zaun paused, staring at the bite mark on his arm. “I was so angry. So pissed… I… backhanded her. Raised my sword…”

Jack closed his eyes. “You had no choice. She was already dead.”

“But that’s just it,” Zaun cried. “I didn’t kill her. I left her alone.”

Jack opened his eyes. He didn’t know what to say.

“I probably should have killed her, but I was so full of rage. She’d killed me, and I wasn’t about to allow her the easy way out. So I left her to die a slow, painful death.

“I came back to my place, scrubbed the wound, poured hydrogen peroxide over it, then bleach. Burned like a motherfucker. Later that night, I was already feeling tired, drained, but not like I was when I was hacking up those ungodly bastards. I was drained as if I had no strength, as if I hadn’t eaten in days. I was so hungry and all I kept thinking about was meat. Human meat. If I had the strength, I think I would’ve gone back down there, found the woman and started tearing into her. As it was, I was too wiped out. I was so hungry, Jack. Hungry enough that I had to fight against eating my own flesh.

“Eventually I started hallucinating. I saw my mother. She came to me. Told me everything would be all right. That I’d be with her soon.” Zaun was crying again. “It was the only good thing that happened to me.”

“Well, I’m here now, buddy,” Jack said, patting Zaun on the leg. “The past is the past. It’s time to move forward. You’re looking better, but you need to rest. No more talking, too much stress is no good. I’m going to let you sleep, then get you up in a few hours for some chow.”

Jack was pleased to see his friend coming along quickly. It was probably his age, good eating habits, genetics, and the fact that he was in shape. He didn’t want to spend anymore time topside than was necessary, but he also didn’t want to scare the guy. He hadn’t told him about the possible plans to nuke the city. Jack wasn’t leaving without his friend, and if the city was leveled, he and Zaun probably wouldn’t suffer for more than a few seconds at best.

Caught in a tough situation, Jack left the room, hoping the good doctor had come up with a way to solve the bot problem and alert the military before they decided to blow up Manhattan.

Chapter 12

While Zaun was recovering, Jack scoured the building, killing undead and looking for survivors. He had to see for himself that there was no one left alive. He didn’t find anyone of course, but did manage to kill a number of undead to the point he could no longer find anymore. He wanted to make the building as safe as possible for when he and Zaun made the trek to the sixth floor supply closet. But it was more than that. Jack felt as if he had made a safe zone for other survivors. There had to be more in the city, and by chance if any of them made it to the building, they would be able to have a place that was undead-free; a safe haven from the city’s ugliness.

A few days after waking, Zaun was strong enough to leave. Jack went over gun protocol, making sure his friend knew as much about the firearms as possible, including where the safety switches were, how to properly load a weapon, and how to aim and shoot.

With their packs full and on their backs, guns loaded, Jack taking the two handguns and the rifle while Zaun carried the shotgun and his sword, the two companions left the apartment.

They easily made their way to the supply closet on the sixth floor. Looking out the window, Jack saw that the gate was open. A few undead were currently occupying the alley, with one right below the window where the rope was dangling. Another was about halfway down the alley and a third stood between one of the open gates and the brick wall, as if confused on how to exit the area.

Jack almost couldn’t believe it. The undead horde from earlier must have grown so large that their combined mass was no match for the gate and broke the steel door open. They flooded in like water from a burst dam. Finding no food, they receded back out, leaving a few stragglers behind.

Looking out into the street, Jack saw a single zombie walk by. Then another. At any moment, one could walk right in and then there’d be four to deal with.

“What is it?” Zaun asked.

“Remember that ‘ safe ’ alley I told you about?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it isn’t so safe anymore.” Jack moved aside to let Zaun have a look.

“Wow,” Zaun said. “Guess those military dudes were wrong about that gate being secure.”

“I just think they underestimated the undead’s strength. Those things might be weak and slow individually, but in groups they’re like a tornado.”

“There are only a few down there now,” Zaun pointed out. “We can take them out.”

“Yeah, but we have to do it quietly or we’ll wind up with half the city’s undead down there. I was thinking about picking them off with the rifle, but I’m not sure how the sound would travel from up here. The shots could echo and confuse the things, or it might attract them into the alley. Then we’d be stuck up here for who knows how long.”

Zaun turned to Jack, a grin on his face. “You trust me?”

“Why, what have you got in mind?”

“It might be nuts, but it’s our only option.”

Jack listened as Zaun suggested that he go down the rope. Using his martial arts training, he would then quietly take out the three undead.