Henry nodded in agreement. There were a million things to account for in the North American evacuation; people, supplies, ammunition… but the constant need to keep the people fed had concerned him and Tracy above all others. There was an old saying that Henry kept in mind whenever he and Tracy came upon the topic of food shortages. ‘There are only nine meals between mankind and anarchy.’ Hungry people are desperate people. Desperate people are dangerous.
“Okay, it’s time to move.” Henry nodded.
“Do you want to see my figures on our fuel situation? I’ve modeled some numbers for what flu season is going to do to the fleet. Oh! Here are some figures on the general population with no valuable skills — mouths we are feeding every day with literally nothing to offer in return,” Tracy continued. She was fascinated by the statistics and research in this apocalypse, but every issue felt like another weight on Henry’s shoulders. “The convoys can’t seem to find any food, but they sure aren’t having any problem finding more hungry mouths.”
“I think I have enough to present my case to the Admiral. Thank you, Tracy.” Henry rubbed his temples and he stood up.
He began to gather up some documents for his report to the Admiral. McMillan had stopped asking Henry for documented evidence of his recommendations long ago. Henry had taken that as a sign of trust, but he always felt better with black and white back up on hand. The civilian leadership who often attended the Admiral’s briefings seldom contributed, but they were always the first to criticize without offering any helpful alternatives.
“Convincing the Admiral we have to move will be the easy part. Convincing him of what we need to do about the Mexican military will be a lot more difficult. Can you start making sure I have the info I need to do that?” Henry asked.
Tracy nodded. “Will do.”
“Thanks,” Henry replied absent-mindedly. He opened a folder containing a map of every DDC in San Diego and carefully studied it. His eyes drifted to the dot that marked the Tierrasanta DDC where his wife was located.
He shook his head in disappointment as he fished his phone out of his pocket. He knew it was futile, and the lack of a response from Kelly would only make him feel worse, but he sent the text message anyway. “I Love you. I hope you’re okay.”
Chapter 10
Kelly sat on the ground with her back pressed against the stairwell entrance. Her feet slipped and slid on the linoleum, as she struggled to brace herself against the undead horde snarling and screeching on the other side of the door. Dr. Thomson fought alongside Kelly while he looked around for something — anything to use as a barricade.
Terrified children bawled at the sight of the struggle, but their parents rushed to aid Kelly and Dr. Thomson — the lives of their kids hanging in the balance. A handful of mothers and fathers had their full weight pressed against the door, but still it threatened to give way.
“What… what do we do?” Kelly gasped over the sound of scraping, splintering, and shrieking.
Dr. Thomson kept himself propped against the door as he slid downward and reached for the rifle Kelly had dropped. “We have to… we have to lure them away! It won’t hold.”
“How?”
Another heavy thud snapped the frame and flung the door open half a foot before it was slammed back shut. The moans and growls intensified. The promise of flesh worked the ghouls into a frenzy. Every moan or bang was a commotion that drew another curious undead monster to investigate and add its strength to the press.
Dr. Thomson sighed. He pulled himself out of the mass of desperate people pressing against the door. Sadly, he looked back at Kelly. He seemed to stare through her for a minute as if he were deaf to the chaos around him.
Kelly’s cheeks were streaked with the tears of her struggle. Exhaustion on her face, she looked back up at Dr. Thomson curiously.
“You’ve always been a great doctor and a great friend, Kelly.” Dr. Thomson’s bottom lip quivered. “You’re in charge now. Keep everyone safe. It won’t be hard to do a better job than I did.”
“What… are you…” Kelly began.
The upper corner of the door splintered open. A bloody claw groped through. Screams of horror rolled through the room, but someone grabbed the undead arm by the wrist and pinned it to the wall.
Dr. Thomson rushed to his office as quickly as his elderly frame would permit and flung the door open. A snarl erupted from the shadows of the office before being silenced by the thunder of gunfire. Four more shots rang out, and a moment later, Dr. Thomson shuffled back out of his office, smattered in blood. He stuffed small round objects into his pocket as he looped the strap of a second rifle over his shoulder. He made eye contact with Kelly again before making his way down the hallway to the roof top exit. He dragged a white sheet behind him.
“Where are you… going?” Kelly couldn’t finish the question before he disappeared onto the roof.
Another series of heavy slams hit the door and she gasped. Any second now, the door would snap off its hinges, or break to splinters and the dead would be on them.
“Kids!” Kelly closed her eyes. “Kids! Go to my office! Go! Go to my office and close the door now!”
The top hinge snapped off the doorframe, and the wood around the bottom hinge began to splinter. Kelly felt herself inching across the floor. The door was sliding open. Three arms wormed their way through the opening and fumbled around for purchase. A maniacal face pressed itself through the crack and snapped at the air wildly with bloody and broken fangs.
Others realized that they were fighting a losing battle and added their voice to Kelly’s.
“Sarah, take your brother and do what Dr. D says!” A woman shouted. “Mommy loves you.”
“Jean, get to Dr. D’s office. Go!” a man’s voice yelled out. “Go now!”
“Vince, hide, honey! Please hide, sweetie! Do what mommy says!” Another woman pleaded.
Kelly looked around for something, anything within arm’s reach that could help her. The children were paralyzed with fear and moved with slow confusion toward the office. That door wouldn’t hold either, but it might buy the children enough time to hide while the adults spent their lives delaying the undead onslaught.
“It’s breaking!”
“I can’t hold it!”
“They’re coming through!”
The deafening roar of an explosion drowned the commotion. The entire DDC shook, and sounds of breaking glass rang through the ground floor. Another chorus of screams erupted from everyone. The children wailed. Some stood paralyzed with terror, others hid beneath blankets or cots, and a few crouched down and wet themselves.
The pressure against the door subsided ever so slightly.
“Come here, you rotten motherfuckers!” Kelly heard a voice from downstairs yell. The sound of gunfire followed the taunt.
The force she struggled against weakened further. Kelly imagined mindless dead turning one-by-one from their frenzy to pursue the source of this new commotion.
A man and a woman took their weight off the door, rushed into the living area, and returned a moment later with cots that they propped up as a barricade.
“I wanted to help you!” the voice screamed again. More gunfire echoed through the clinic.
The undead limbs that had wormed their way through breaches in the door withdrew, and people worked as a team to pile everything they could find against it. Boxes, cots, chairs, shelves… every object that wasn’t nailed down was piled up as barricade.