The kid was still bleeding bad and would need stitches. After retrieving the first aid box, Jack stitched the wound with Mike’s help. Not the best job, and surely it would look Frankenstein-ish forever more, but the bleeding stopped. Mike had just tied off the thread when they heard a loud commotion down the hall.
“Shit,” whispered Mike, looking up.
Jack nodded. “They’re inside.”
* * *
Jack worried they were losing time by not pursuing the ‘agent in black’. But they would never get far if the zombies couldn’t be brought under control. Jack prepared to start picking the suckers off one by one, but Joe stopped him.
“By the way, Cole totally fucked with our ammo.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look for yourself.”
Jack glanced to where the cart had been. It was gone. If the bastard’s intention was to make their lives miserable, he was succeeding in spades.
All Mike, Jared and Jack had for ammo was the bullets they had stuffed into their pockets. And Jared had lost too much blood to fight effectively, barely keeping his arm up. Worries about Anna and Carla threatened to overwhelm Jack—especially without transportation and weapons to get to the stadium and then fight effectively.
Things looked terribly grim.
The zombies made their way toward them in the hallway. Thankfully, there were only a few—much less than it sounded like. The armed trio took them out while guttural shrieks erupted from outside the side entrances.
What in the hell?
Had Cole unlocked the doors, too? They sounded too close.... No telling how many were on the way. Mike and Joe went to secure one side entrance while Jared insisted on accompanying Jack to close the other, an employee entrance into the observatory. The pair heard a thump and then guttural shrieks as they approached the open door. A dozen members of the undead hovered just outside the entrance. Their contorted faces were pressed against the smoky glass as they fumbled for the handle. Most of the faces sported deep wounds along the cheeks, forehead, and necks. Surely how they were all turned into what they were now.
A short blast of bullets made the monsters back off just enough to secure the lock again.
“Sweet Jesus!” he whistled under his breath.
To be on the safe side, Jared helped Jack further secure the handles by using some of the cut cords that had been used to bind his brother. Soon after, Mike and Joe rejoined them in the main hallway.
“Held them back,” said Mike, pointing to where they had been moments before. “We secured the door back there. But there’s an awful lot of them this time. The door is gonna give before too long.”
“Now what do we do?” Joe asked Jack.
“We figure out the best way to get out of here,” he said. “Then we go find Anna and Carla.”
Chapter Sixteen
Jack and Mike went through the building thoroughly, sealing what doors they could and barricading the ones they couldn’t. Then all the guys gathered the few remaining items Cole had missed, along with what weapons and ammunition they could retrieve safely from the basement level.
Despite Cole’s efforts to hamstring the group, they managed to recover several dozen rifles and pistols, and a couple of cases of bullets. But not knowing what the bastard had in mind, they raided the custodian closets for anything that looked like it could serve as a weapon, like a couple of shovels, and a garden hose.
It was hard to concentrate on anything other than Anna and Carla’s safety. But Jack focused on the task at hand. Presently, that meant stashing the supplies into big trash bags.
“Dodger Stadium?” said Joe, when they were finished. They had their weapons and supplies. They were ready to move.
Mike shook his head. “He’s obviously baiting us. He wants us to come. We’ve got to be smarter than him.”
“You don’t know him.” Joe’s dark voice matched the spreading shadows, it was early evening. “He doesn’t care. Yeah, he wants us to come. Especially me and Mike. He hates us. He wants us, but he doesn’t care about Anna or Carla. He wants revenge.”
“So, how to get there as quickly as possible?” asked Jack. “Both the truck and the patrol car have flat tires.”
“We can hike,” suggested Mike. “But it wouldn’t be safe. This zombie bullshit has to be spreading like wildfire.”
As they talked, the sound of dragging feet and snarls drifted from down the hall again.
“My turn.” Joe sighed, and then drew his hunting knife and went after them. Everyone else paused to listen to the blows—the crunch of bones—until he returned. “Piece of cake,” he said.
Jack didn’t like how commonplace the violence had become. But the world was changing fast. This got him thinking about Brice and the woman, Julie. With darkness approaching, he didn’t know what to do about either one. He thought about Anna and Carla again.
“All we have is my truck,” he said, “The tires are shot.”
“Screw the tires,” Jared said angrily. “I mean, who’s going to care? Anyone out there to give us a ticket, even?”
“He’s right, you know,” Joe said. “We could at least make it down the hill on the rims.”
“We could probably hotwire something when the truck gives out,” Mike said. “We’ve done that many times before.”
Everyone looked to Jack again for a final answer. He didn’t think of himself as completely in charge, but maybe he was. After all, it was his daughter and girlfriend’s lives out there on the line.
“Okay,” he said, after giving it some thought. “Let’s take the truck. Load up, and search for Brice first. We’ll at least start with that.”
Jared didn’t like it. He wanted to get Anna. Period. Jack shared his pain, but carried the more experienced perspective of doing the right thing usually meant the best results would follow. Saving Brice first was the right thing to do.
They all agreed to use as few bullets as possible. When it was time to go, Joe and Mike covered Jack and Jared, who no longer bore the pallor of death after consuming several energy bars, as they loaded the truck. It was then decided Joe would drive, Jared shotgun, and Mike and Jack would man the back.
Brice and Julie were still barricaded in the bathroom when they retrieved them. Brice was damned happy to see them, and he had kept Julie tied up, except for her feet.
“She wasn’t going anywhere,” he advised. “I took the tape off of her mouth so she could have a drink from the sink. Had to put it back on, though, as she wouldn’t stop talking even for a nanosecond.”