Pathogen - Chapter 23

Jumping back in fright, Cliff slammed the door closed. With the doorknob no longer present, however, the door couldn’t latch. It creaked slightly ajar.

Cliff shouted in frustration and fear, “Shit!”

“Hey, calm down,” Aaron soothed, “We talked about this, but if you really have to go you can take it outside.”

“There’s zombies out there,” Cliff informed Aaron, “And they’re on their way here.”

“Shit,” Aaron agreed. “We’ve got to get Grace and the other girl and get out of here.”

“There’s no time,” Cliff explained, “They’re too close, we’d never make it down the cliff. We have to barricade the door before they get here.”

Together they ran into the kitchen to find something to use to block the door. Aaron recalled seeing a movie where the survivors ripped the doors off the cupboards and nailed them across the doors and windows. While he was wondering about where he might find a hammer and nails, Cliff flipped over the kitchen table. The beer can castle, while once perhaps a veritable bastion of sanctuary, toppled and fell to the floor.

“Hey,” Aaron whined, “I liked that thing.”

“No time,” Cliff explained as he dragged the table out of the kitchen, “Help me with this here.”

The table was heavy, but together the boys shoved it into the living room. Through the crack in the door they could see a zombie meandering up the steps. Putting on a burst of speed, they slammed the door shut and held the table fast against the wall. They arrived a split second before the zombie. Together they held the door shut as the zombie pressed against it from outside.

“I don’t think this table is going to do the trick,” Aaron grunted as he pushed against the door.

Outside, the zombie was getting riled up and started pounding on the door. The table shook as the two boys held it fast against the assault.

“Hold it here,” Cliff ordered as he dashed away.

“You’re just going to leave me here?” Aaron asked with a note of panic in his voice.

Cliff crossed the living room in a moment and grabbed the couch. Grunting with his exertions, he pulled it free from the wall. After running around to the other side, he pushed it towards the door.

“Get back,” Cliff commanded as Aaron stepped away from the table.

Together they pushed the door in front of the table before the door could be pushed open. The pounding continued, and the door rattled in the frame. So far, however, the barricade was keeping them safe.

“Think it’ll hold?” Aaron asked.

Before he could get an answer, Grace screamed from the bedroom above them.

“It’ll have to do,” Cliff hoped as he crossed the living room to grab the shotgun.

Running up the stairs, the boys hoped they weren’t too late. Scruffy stayed downstairs, barking up a storm at the zombies. With a whimper, he retreated into the kitchen.

Arriving first, Aaron reached out to the bedroom door and yanked it open. They arrived just in time to see Grace, pinned beneath a zombified Rita, get bit by her attacker. A scream and a spray of blood punctuated her sentence of doom.

“No!” Aaron shouted.

Snatching up the axe that had been abandoned at the door by his feet, Aaron charged into the room. With a savage kick, he bowled Rita over to the floor. Shouting out his fury, he swung the axe at the sprawling zombie. With a sickening, wet crunch, Rita was dispatched. Aaron swung the axe twice more for good measure.

“Motherfucker,” Grace choked on her own blood as she clutched the wound on her shoulder.

“Come on,” Cliff had entered the room and knelt down by Grace, “We’ve got to get you out of here.”

“Not on your life,” Grace pushed him away, “I don’t have long left, I betcha.”

“Well…” Cliff struggled to find the words, “We can’t just leave you here.”

“You can, and you will,” Grace gasped, “Lock me inside. I don’t want to hurt anybody when I turn.”

Cliff chewed his lip for a moment. Grudgingly, he stood up and turned to leave the room. Spotting the rifle in the corner, Cliff grabbed it and stepped outside. Aaron followed close behind.

“I’m really sorry, Grace,” he muttered before he crossed the threshold.

With a heavy heart, Aaron closed the door. He looked up to see Cliff watching him. Cliff held out the rifle, offering it to Aaron. Gripping the axe tightly, Aaron shook his head in refusal.

“You should take the gun,” Cliff insisted, “It might save your life.”

“You hold on to it,” Aaron disagreed, “I’d probably just mess this one up like the last one.”

Accepting his logic, Cliff set off downstairs to check on their defenses, such as they were. For the moment, their makeshift barricade was holding the door shut. Cliff was relieved, until he remembered the back door wasn’t barricaded. Setting the rifle down by the stairs, Cliff clutched his shotgun and dashed into the kitchen. There was a pair of chairs for the kitchen table, so he took one and wedged it against the back door.

“What are you doing?” Aaron asked.

Stepping back to admire his handiwork, Cliff answered, “Blocking this door off.”

Aaron assessed the door. “It’s still locked, and it opens outwards,” he noted.

Cliff looked back at the new barricade. “Still,” he said, “Nothing’s getting through that way.”

Through the glass pane of the backdoor, they spotted a zombie approaching. It slammed its outstretched arms into the window, shattering glass. Aaron gulped as it dawned on him that they were totally surrounded now. Wood splintered and glass shattered around the house. Looking about in surprise, Aaron and Cliff spotted zombies’ arms breaching the shuttered windows. From the corner in the kitchen, Scruffy whined in terror.

“Okay,” Cliff assessed, “This looks pretty bad.”

“Tell me about it,” Aaron agreed.

“We’ve got to beat these guys back,” Cliff announced. To illustrate his point, he hefted the shotgun as he approached the nearest window and slammed the butt into a zombie’s face.

“No kidding,” Aaron agreed.

Aaron ran up to the back door where the zombie was pushing against the broken frame. With another shout, he swung the axe in a deadly arc. As the axe found itself embedded in the skull, the zombie instantly became dead weight. Aaron lost his grip as the zombie instantly became deadweight and fell. To his chagrin, two more zombies stepped up to take its place.

“Hey, Cliff,” Aaron called out, “We have a slight problem.”

With an unfortunate sense of timing, immediately after Aaron lost his weapon, their makeshift barricade at the front door failed. The door creaked open and zombies started filing inside in a disorderly mob. Cliff looked over to see what the problem was.

“Shit,” he whistled.

“What do we do now?” Aaron wailed, “Game over man! Game over!”

Cliff came up with a plan in a flash, “Get upstairs. I’ll clear us a path. Maybe we can climb out a window or something.”

Raising the shotgun, Cliff aimed at the nearest zombie. The shotgun was twice as deafening indoors, but the zombie tumbled backwards all the same. More will filling into the room rapidly, pushing through the now open door and climbing through the windows. Pumping back the shotgun, Cliff ejected the spent shell and lined up another shot. Squeezing the trigger, the shotgun let out a dry click.

“I’m empty,” Cliff noted, barely surprised.

“So what do we do? How do we get out?” Aaron was getting desperate and Scruffy began to howl.

“Stick to the plan,” Cliff announced as he flipped the shotgun around to better bludgeon the zombies with, “I’ll clear a path and you get out of here.”

“Me?” Aaron asked incredulously, “What about you?”

Before he could get an answer, Cliff ran into the living room screaming. Swinging the shotgun in wide arcs, he caught the nearest zombie in the face with the weapon’s stock and sent another tumbling to the floor. Pressing his advantage, Cliff held the shotgun like a hockey stick and crosschecked a zombie into its fellows.

“What are you waiting for, a written invitation?” Cliff barked, “Get out of here!”

Aaron hesitated no further. Scooping up Scruffy, he dashed into the living room. Cliff had cleared a path to the stairs but was quickly becoming overwhelmed. Aaron realised what a hero Cliff was, and what a coward he was being and felt ashamed. Running for the stairs, he jumped over a zombie on the floor. The zombie lurched up as he leapt and caught him by the ankle. Aaron fell heavily to the ground and dropped Scruffy, who ran up the stairs.

Desperately trying to crawl away, Aaron shouted and kicked at the zombie that had him. Still, it held fast. Seeing the dire straits that Aaron was in, Cliff lunged toward the zombie holding him down. With a vicious strike, he drove the shotgun stock into the zombie’s skull a moment before it could reach Aaron with it’s jaws. Immediately, the zombies behind Cliff set upon him, hauling him away.

“Cliff!” Aaron shouted helplessly.

“Go!” Cliff screamed, “Get out of here!”

Broken teeth sank into Cliff’s flesh and he cried out, a wordless scream that was an amalgamation of pain, fury, and terror. Aaron found his feet and backed away to the stairs. He almost tripped over Grace’s rifle, but he stopped to pick it up. Aaron couldn’t bear to watch his friend die, so he raised the rifle and took aim. With a squeeze of the trigger, he put his friend out of his misery and swore he wouldn’t forget his sacrifice.

Above him, Scruffy barked. The dog had run up the stairs, but now realised it was trapped. Aaron looked at the zombies fast approaching, now no longer as interested in Cliff’s body. Dashing up the stairs, Aaron pushed past Scruffy. The dog slipped on the wooden floor as he struggled to find traction, but soon followed after the boy.

Near the end of the hall was a window, still shuttered shut. Aaron tried to slide the window open, but the wood had swollen with moisture and neglect. Cursing, he laid the rifle down against the wall and threw his weight into opening the window. With a splintering crack, the window fell free of the frame. Aaron threw it aside without a second thought and unshuttered the window.

Scruffy barked and Aaron looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, the zombies had summited the stairs and were staggering towards them. Aaron scooped up Scruffy and helped him through the window and onto the roof below. Snatching up the rifle, Aaron followed out just as the zombies were getting within reach. Cliff’s heroic sacrifice had bought Aaron a few extra seconds, just enough to escape the house with Scruffy, but if he wanted to survive any longer he’d have to come up with another plan.