“…already know we’re in here…”
“…how many are there…”
Gunshots from above brought silence, then the hollow thump of the aluminum roof sheets shifting beneath the weight of the gunmen.
“If you’d just listen for a minute,” Seth said, no longer bothering to keep his voice down. “I was trying to-” Another shot interrupted him. He raised his voice: “Steve and Brian are on the roof. We’re safe here. That’s why we-”
Static, and then a voice: “Seth. It’s Brian. Over.”
Motioning for those around him to stay silent, Seth plucked the walkie-talkie from his hip and held it to his face. “Talk to me. Over.”
“There’s gotta be fifty or sixty out here right now. Over.”
“We can handle that.”
A few seconds of silence. Wayne looked at his watch again. He could hear one of the kids upstairs, crying. Somewhere, a walking corpse pounded on the side of the warehouse with what sounded like a pipe. More gunshots.
“Brian? Over.”
“Yeah, we can, but we’re making a hell of a lot of noise. They might just keep coming. You know how-”
The shouts from those around Seth drowned out the rest. The large group splintered into smaller groups, the familiar cliques coming together at last.
“…it’s Wayne’s fault…”
“…finish the job!”
“…followed his trail…”
“…that’s not how it works. They’re not that smart…”
“…led them right to us…”
“…where is he…”
Crouching in the darkness, Wayne pulled his gun, killed the safety. Almost. Almost.
Seth’s small group pulled together, shouted for everyone to listen, said that they had to work together, that they’d survive if they could just-
“The trucks,” one of Zach’s pals said, his own group advancing on Seth’s. Everywhere, people scurried, vanishing into the offices that served as their living quarters. Above, the gunfire continued. Outside, the dead howled and pressed in. “Give us the keys. We’re getting the fuck out of here.”
“I’m not giving you the keys, Tevin. Just take a minute and think about what you’re-”
Someone shot Seth, and then the air was buzzing with lead.
Wayne dropped low and let the whole thing play itself out. A second of silence, followed by the cries of the wounded. On the roof, the men continued to fire their guns. The dead hammered the building. Someone ran by, their flashlight beam bobbing.
Wayne leapt to his feet and took the stairs two at a time.
“Here they are,” someone said. Wayne heard keys jingling, and then he was in the classroom. He closed the door behind him.
Sue held the small black boy to her chest. He pressed his face to her neck, weeping. Some of the kids were standing, tears in their eyes. Others still sat amid their sheets and pillows, stuffed animals held to their chests. Patty sat at the back of the class, just out of the glow cast by Sue’s lantern. She held two children close to her.
“What’s happening?” Barely holding it together. “Who’s shooting?”
“Some guys are on the roof picking them-”
“No. Someone in the warehouse fired a gun.”
“Seth. Someone-”
“Seth shot somebody?”
“No. Somebody shot Seth. We have to-”
“Oh, God. Is he-”
“Are you ready? Wayne said.
“Now?” Sue asked, looking around, jittery. “Wait, where’s Morgan?”
“Bathroom,” Patty said.
“Jesus.” Sue bit her lip and stood. “Kids, get up, we’re going.”
“Not you, hearts,” Patty said to the kids in the back, and closed her eyes.
Leticia, Greg, and Shawn gathered by Wayne’s side. Sue looked around. “Where’s Sarah? Sarah?”
“She’s staying with me,” Patty said, pulling one of the shadows closer, her voice slurred.
Wayne said, “We can come back. You can fit. We all can fit. We can-”
“Goddamn it.” Sue made fists at Patty and screamed, “You idiot!”
“You’re going on foot?” Patty said.
“The Jeep is just four blocks away,” Wayne answered. “We can-”
“You told Seth that you left it behind,” Patty said. “You’re going to get them killed.”
“Do you have your gun?” Wayne asked, staring at Patty’s shadowed form.
“I have three.”
“Okay. Let’s move.” More gunshots. Shouting from downstairs. The drone of the gathering dead. The kids wailed. They closed Patty in the back room and stopped in the hall to the stairs.
Wayne looked at Sue and whispered, “I didn’t know you wanted that one.”
“He won’t let go of me,” she sighed. “I don’t know where…he couldn’t tell me where his shoes were, I just have to fucking carry him.”
“We can make it.” Wayne said, fighting back the urge to yell and curse. “We just need to be fast. Just-wait…”
“What is it?” Sue asked.
“I think I heard the motor pool loading door rolling up.”
“Damn it. They’re gonna get in.”
An eruption of gunfire. Sue switched the small boy-Devon, Wayne remembered-to her left arm and pulled her gun. She nodded.
Wayne pulled Leticia, the smallest of the three standing around them, onto his right hip. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Now hold on tight, okay?”
“Don’t let them get me.”
“Okay,” Wayne said, sucking in a deep breath. “Sue, behind me. You cover our right. I have the left. Get them between us.”
Sue nudged the two crying boys between them. Wayne winced. There were seven or eight in all, but damn it, they were so small.
“Hold onto my belt,” he told Shawn. “Now.” He looked at Sue. “Just like we planned. Okay?”
“Okay.”
He opened the door and led them out. The vast expanse of the warehouse was lost to darkness. Their flashlight beams seemed to die on black air.
A row of offices separated one warehouse from the other. The dead may have been packed shoulder to shoulder in the motor pool, but there were none to be seen on this side of the facility.
They took the stairs slowly. Somewhere, voices raised in anger. More popping gunshots from outside. Heavy footsteps on the roof.
At the bottom of the stairs, Wayne stopped. The kid’s head bumped into his back. Feet shuffled somewhere nearby. Ian stepped from the darkness and sank his teeth into the soft flesh of Leticia’s shoulder. She screamed.
Wayne’s gun thundered. Ian dropped. Sue and the kids screamed, retreating, falling over one another. She opened fire, shooting at nothing. Leticia’s hot blood doused Wayne’s hand. Her grip on his neck tightened. She screamed and screamed, and then there were more of them shambling through the darkness toward them.
Wayne screamed, “Go back!” and trailed Sue and the kids to the top of the stairs. “I’ll take care of these. I’ll get the Jeep. Wait in here.” He pried the screaming and wounded child from his neck and passed her to Sue.
“Take care of her,” he said, and with the click of the door shutting, was gone. At the bottom of the stairs, two more dead things bumped into one another. Trace and Mark, killed in the shootout over the keys. He took them down and moved toward the loading door, his flashlight beam passing over Seth’s body. In the direction of the motor pool, someone yelled. An engine revved.
There would only be a few of them milling around outside-most of them would have flocked toward the motor pool loading door, some forty feet to his right. He could get through with ease. Probably.
Holstering his gun and still gripping the flashlight, he grabbed the chain with both hands, hoisted the massive door some five feet from the ground, and dashed into the night. Cold hands groped for him, and he stumbled over a fallen corpse-they were everywhere, thanks to the snipers, now long since gone. The walking ones closed in, grunting and eager. He rolled, kicking and thrashing and fumbling for his gun.
“Fuck.” His holster was empty. One of them threw itself onto him. His chin hit the concrete. Blood flowed.