Fighting to Survive
Page 9

Sighing, she walked into the city hall building, trying hard not to think of anything but the task ahead.
2. Shelter From the Storm
Stacey held the squirming Jack Russell terrier firmly in her arms as Bill and Ed helped her over the wall. Eric climbed up behind her and she could feel him reaching out to steady her with one hand. Pepe was not happy with being taken over the wall and she didn’t blame him. Despite the new area being cordoned off by high new walls, she felt vulnerable being outside of the construction site.
A big black girl reached up to help her with Pepe as she climbed down the second ladder into the new area. The girl's name was Lenore and Stacey had met her the day she and Eric had been rescued from the water tower. Lenore’s best friend and constant companion, Ken, stood near Lenore, clutching his cat carrier. Inside, his cat, Cher, was mightily ticked off. Stacey didn’t blame her.
Other survivors were descending ladders and a special elevator had been rigged up for the elderly and disabled. The big crane from the construction site was lifting a pallet over the wall with the elderly tied securely on to it. Old Man Watson looked befuddled, but he gave Stacey the thumbs up when he saw her looking at him.
The Dollar Store was already filling up and Stacey could see people trying to find a place to camp out during the long wait for the hotel to be taken. She hoped the terrible combination of zombie and bleach was gone now.
Peggy, the city secretary, and her little boy, Cody, reached the street just as Stacey did. Cody was crying softly and the sound of his whimpering made Stacey feel even more nervous.
“It’s going to be fine, honey,” Eric assured her as he reached the ground. He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. Pushing his glasses up on his nose, he looked around warily. “We made damn sure this area is secure. We'll be fine.”
“You can't blame me for being nervous,” Stacey answered. She slid her arms around his waist and leaned against him. The love she felt for him pulsed hard inside of her and she felt a lump in her throat.
His laid his arm over her shoulders, his fingers stroking her skin.
“No, I can't. But we'll be okay. I promise.”
“I cannot wait until this is over,” Ken said, and pouted slightly. His cat seemed to yowl in agreement.
Lenore set Pepe down and held tightly to his leash. Pepe zigzagged back and forth in front of her. “It’ll be done soon enough and we’ll have a nice bed to sleep in tonight.”
“We can be roommates!” Ken clapped his hands excitedly.
“Oh, no! I am so not putting up with listening to you talk in your sleep about how hot Daniel Craig is.” Lenore gave him a fierce look.
“Besides, aren’t you supposed to be back inside the fort helping out Juan? Gimme Cher and get to work.”
Ken handed over his cat, giving her a fake, disdainful look.
“You’re so mean.”
“Move it,” Lenore ordered.
Eric stepped out of Ken’s way as the younger man made his way back up over the wall.
“Good luck, Ken!” Eric called out.
Ken posed cutely on the ladder. “I will stun and amaze all with my mad skills!”
“He's a gopher for Juan,” Lenore explained. “Like that's hard.”
“Bitch,” Ken sniffed and hurried over the wall.
Lenore grinned.
Stacey laid her head on Eric's shoulder. Her stomach was in knots.
“We’ll be okay,” Eric repeated, but she could see fear clearly in his eyes. They had barely survived coming to the fort. They had hoped their days fearing for their safety were over, but obviously they were not.
“Zombies don't got a chance against this crew. We're tough,”
Lenore said in her usual gruff tone. “We're mean. We're nasty. Plus, Ken could talk them to death.”
Stacey laughed and took Pepe's leash when Lenore held it out to her. Pepe danced around her feet, looking up at her anxious.
Together, they walked toward the Dollar Store.
Overhead, the skies opened up.
It began to rain.
3. Check In Time
Nerit took a deep breath and strode up onto the platform overlooking the hotel's designated point of entry. Clad in her old jeans, a button down shirt, and Ralph's hunting jacket, she was warm, despite the cool, damp wind gusting through the small fort. With her yellowish-white hair tied back from her face, her eyes looked keen and intense.
This was something she was good at. She felt like killing.
In Israel, things had been rough when the nation had first arisen.
She had fought bravely and with pride. Her almost eerie ability to nail any target from a great distance had given her an illustrious career. It had helped that she had the cool detachment needed to do the job of a sniper. Some had called her one of the most calculating and aloof women they had ever met. In reality, she was just good at her job.
There were moments when she was haunted and the nightmares came, but she had always kept herself focused on the greater good.
Defending Israel had been her priority. She had done her job well.
But now it was much more personal. She could still kill with skill and cold detachment, but it did not give her nightmares anymore. She was living in a nightmare. What she killed now were not terrorists or enemies of her homeland, but the undead citizens of her adopted country. The country had fallen. The fort was home; the zombies were the enemy.
If the bandits ever came to the fort and tried to do there what they had done to Ralph…
Pressing away thoughts of Ralph, she lit a cigarette and exhaled slowly. She was already in that calm cool place where the world was gray and devoid of anything other than her pulse and breath.
She was elevated above the construction site so she could see easily into the brick pen they had built around the old entrance to the hotel. It was high enough to keep any zombies out, and they had made the old wrought iron gate the doorway into the tiny courtyard. The pen was, essentially, as safe as it could be.
The dark gray clouds continued to sprinkle drops down on their heads, but the almost-black clouds in the distance spoke of a violent storm.
Slipping into position, she enjoyed the feel of the cold metal of her sniper rifle in her hands. Closing one eye, she became one with the gun; the sight became their mutual eye, harsh and unblinking. She could easily see everyone gathering to go in. She could see the bricked up entrance.
She was ready.
***
Travis was not ready for this. He was certain of it. His stomach was in knots and his hands wouldn't stop sweating. Looking around at the people gathered in small tight groups around him, he felt his panic building.
They were finally going into the hotel. The small walled-in courtyard with the wrought iron gate suddenly seemed so flimsy to him.
What if hundreds of those things had somehow gotten into the hotel? What hope would they have of holding them off? Thank God they had created the new secure area. It now seemed foolish that they had ever considered going into the hotel without making sure that the survivors were safely tucked away first.
He glanced over his shoulder at Nerit. She looked calm, deadly, and ready. His gaze flicked to Juan, who was talking intently to Jenni.
Travis knew Juan was very worried about Jenni going in to help clear out the building. He really couldn’t blame him. Jenni was a good shot, but the situation was fraught with danger. Travis was also worried about the woman he cared about.
He glanced toward Katie, who was standing nearby. He was worried sick about her going in. He knew she was a good shot and had more experience dealing with zombies up close than just about anyone. He had confidence in her abilities, but still he felt a sense of dread. Too many times before, he had come close to losing her.
The last few weeks had been hard. After their surprising kiss, Katie had drawn far away from him. It stung him, but he could understand to some degree. Yesterday she had given him hope. Maybe it was misplaced, but when she had whispered 'please' to him, he took it as a sign she wanted time to deal with feelings she had for him. He had seen something in her eyes that had been surprising and encouraging.
He was willing to give her time, but now that they were both going into a dangerous situation, he craved one last significant moment with her.
Mike, the man in charge, moved to the center of his carefully chosen groups. A former military man, he had grouped people into teams and trained them to work together for the last few weeks. His dark skin was beaded with sweat and rain. He looked strong and unafraid.
“We're about to go in. Remember to stay with your group. Stick to your predetermined route. If you meet with a large amount of zombies, do not return to the fort, but call for backup and fall back to the main lobby. You are not to return to the fort until the hotel is clear. If something goes wrong, start climbing and go to a higher floor.”
His voice droned on, firm, intent and commanding. Travis watched people gazing at the tall man with deep respect and fear. There was a sense of terror building in the fort. It was inevitable. Things had been so calm, so safe, for weeks now. It had given all of them a false sense of security. And now it could all end. Yet, they needed to get into the hotel with summer heat coming. Plus, people were short-tempered and moody over the lack of privacy and the long lines into the bathrooms and shower. They had to expand the fort now, not later, when things were much rougher.