She scooted over slowly, taking her time. She flinched when he leaned over the ladder and fired his eighteenth bullet without warning. He sat back and held out his hand. She took it and let him pull her closer until she was sitting only a few inches away. She immediately sought out the safety of the nearby cell antennas with her shoes.
Will leaned over, watching the closest ghoul climbing from thirty meters away. The creature reached up and took another rung and pulled itself up slowly…
He slung his rifle and dug into his pack. He pulled out the gas siphoning tube, unrolled it, then looped one end around his belt and cinched it tight. He leaned toward Zoe and reached for her waist, hooking his fingers into her belt.
“What are you doing?” she asked, alarmed.
“I’m going to tie you to me, so I’ll know if you slip again. Early warning system.”
“But what if you fall?”
“Then you’re coming down with me.”
Her face turned pale.
“I can go days without sleeping if I have to,” Will said. “Can you?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Yes. You can fall.”
“So, no, then.”
He grinned back at her, then looped the other end of the tube around her belt. He pulled at it to draw her closer, before tying it into place. He left a meter length between them so they could still move without forcing the other along. He wasn’t entirely sure if the hose would hold if one of them actually did fall off the tower, but he kept that doubt to himself.
He leaned over the ladder, shot another ghoul in the chest, and watched it tumble into the darkness below, this time taking five more along with it.
Twenty…
He stretched the final rifle magazine a few minutes past 4:00 a.m. — 4:14 a.m., to be exact.
When she saw him slinging the M4A1 and drawing his Glock, Zoe said, “You’re almost out of bullets, aren’t you?”
“I have three magazines for the Glock.”
“Will that be enough?”
“Forty-five bullets in all.”
“How many bullets did you have for the rifles?”
“Thirty.”
“How many magazines?”
“Three. But one magazine only had twenty-seven rounds.”
“Eighty-seven bullets got us from eleven o’clock to three in the morning,” she said. “Four hours. Forty-five bullets will only get us two more hours. We’ll still be ninety minutes short of sunup, Will.”
Great, she can count, too.
“I’ll make it last,” he said.
“No, you won’t.”
He was struck by the matter-of-fact tone in her voice. The fear seemed to have been replaced by what sounded like resignation.
“What happens when the bullets run out?” she asked.
“I still have my knife.”
“Your knife…”
“We’ll be fine.”
Say it a third time and maybe she’ll actually believe you.
“You’re full of shit, Will,” Zoe said.
Or not.
He leaned over the ladder and shot a ghoul from five meters away. The bullet pierced its chest, hit a second ghoul directly below it. They tumbled free, knocking only one other ghoul with them this time.
Sonofabitch.
The rest continued to climb steadily, either unimpressed by or oblivious to the deaths of the others. He couldn’t even see the dead ghouls below, and figured they were crushed under the live ones fighting their way to the ladder to be the next one up.
Two…
Fifteen…
Will didn’t wait to watch the ghoul flip off the ladder. He immediately ejected the magazine, catching it with his other hand and jamming it back into the pouch (Just in case), then instinctively grabbed the next — and last — magazine.
He slipped it in, worked the slide, and leaned over the side of the water tower.
The closest ghoul was only ten meters away. Will watched it climb for a moment, one arm over the other, impossibly patient and determined, and unfathomably fearless. He wondered if they even still had the same concept of life and death anymore. Once you’ve already “died,” did it matter if you died again? Even if it was permanent this time?
“How many?” Zoe asked.
“What?”
“How many bullets do you have left?”
“This is it. Fifteen more bullets in the magazine.” He heard her chuckle, and looked over. “What’s so funny?”
“You didn’t bother to lie that time.”
He wasn’t sure if she looked horrified or amused. Maybe somewhere in between.
“I would have, but it’s obvious you know how to count,” he said.
He heard flesh slapping metal and leaned over and shot the ghoul in the head. It tumbled, taking two down with it.
One…
Zoe’s entire body had become a living spring next to him, the siphoning tube connecting their bodies quivering each time she shifted or moved, which was every few seconds. It had also gotten much colder up here, and Zoe’s entire body was shaking. He had gone numb and couldn’t feel the vibrations coming from her, of course, but he could see the tube trembling out of the corner of his eye.
Will glanced down at his watch: 6:09 a.m.
Almost there…
“Will,” Zoe said.
“Yeah?”
“What happens when you run out of bullets?”
“We’ll improvise.”
“The knife?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re going to die,” she said, her voice so low he almost didn’t hear.
He shot another ghoul, watched it do a swan dive off the ladder, somehow managing not to take a single creature with it.
The next ghoul took its place.
Two…
He fired again, and this time was rewarded with the sight of the creature collapsing straight down, taking one — then two — ghouls with it.
Three…
He noticed they were moving faster up the ladder now, and it wasn’t going well. For every ghoul that managed to scramble up two rungs without falling, two either lost their footing or grip and tumbled down. That didn’t seem to deter the rest, and they continued clamoring, moving faster and faster up toward him.
Why?
Maybe they sensed he was running out of bullets. Or maybe they—
The sunrise. They know it’s coming.
His watch confirmed it: 6:31 a.m.
Come out, come out, wherever you are, Mister Sun.
He fired, knocking three off the ladder.
Four…
“Zoe,” he said.
“Yes?”
“You need to get ready.”
“Get ready for what?” she said, her voice quivering noticeably again.
6:55 a.m.
They were coming up too fast, surging up the ladder, returning to the same frenzied pace when all of this began. It was all he could do to slash and stab with the cross-knife and suck in a fresh breath of cold air before another one tried to grab at his wrist or ankle to pull him down.
Thank God turning into ghouls hadn’t granted them any special strength; he was able to shake them off, at times kicking them loose from whatever they were hanging on to and sending them fluttering back down to the mass of bodies below.
Not that it stopped them. Or slowed them down for even a second.
Zoe was moving next to him, navigating the small, precious space at the edge of the water tower. She grabbed on to the cell antennas as if they were a lifeline, shuffling left then right, trying to keep up with his movements. She had to keep moving, because each time one of the ghouls reached the top, Will had to step back before he could slash or stab. Then once the ghoul fell, he moved forward again, back toward the ladder to greet the next one up.