Rise by Gareth Wood Page B
Authors: Gareth Wood
Tags: Canada, Zombies, apocalypse, Armageddon, Journal, Living Dead, End of the world, postapocalyptic, permuted press, diary, romero, day by day armageddon
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more approaching from another direction, but it looked like our way ahead was clear for now. We took off at a trot, and as soon as we were out of sight of both groups we detoured down a side street, and resumed the hide/sneak way of moving about.
In this fashion, it took another hour and a half to get ten more blocks, and we were constantly checking behind us to make sure the fifteen or so zombies back there hadn’t found a trail to follow. It was really getting hot out now, so we took a few minutes in some shade for a drink and a rest. We were in the shade at the side of a building, just behind a dumpster, with a clear view of the streets, when a zombie shambled past the front of the building, heading back the way we had come from. It was followed by three more, presumably drawn by the noise of the shooting earlier. Ten more minutes passed before we were willing to venture out again, and we hadn’t seen any more of them appear. The four that had passed were no longer in sight, so we cautiously made our way down the back of the building, and out onto the front again. In this leapfrogging manner (two covering, one moving) we made our way to the offices of Can-Pro. It took some time to find the actual offices once we arrived at the right building, since Unit 4 of Nondescript Industrial Park Building A looked an awful lot like Units 2, 7, and 8 through 12 of Nondescript Industrial Park Buildings A, B and C. Half an hour later Dave spotted a familiar sign on a door, Can-Pro Constructs and Developments, LTD with a phone number and business hours.
By that time, we were ready for a rest, water, and lunch. We approached the door, and I spotted motion inside the office. A split second later a corpse hit the door hard, making all of us jump back. The door held, and the once-attractive young woman’s animated shell inside the offices started pounding her black and blue fists on the glass to get at us. The door was obviously locked, I thought, since it would have opened under her onslaught otherwise. Dave and Jess and I went around the side of the building to the back doors, and remembering what unit it was, found the loading dock and man-door there. Both were locked. Both were metal doors, so we were not getting in that way, unless we could find a key, a prospect I held as slim at best. We snuck around front again, and sure enough, as soon as we were at the door the undead woman inside was there, smashing and clawing at the glass, frantically trying to get at us. If she’d had any brain power at all she would have just turned the lock. Looking at her I felt a sudden hope. These things were stupider than snails. Given time, we’d defeat them. Given time, they’d rot away and become moot.
We discussed what to do, and finally got a plan together. We needed to be quiet, not attract any more of the undead, and get in there. Jess had an idea. We each had brought a backpack with extra ammo, extra clothes, water and food, binoculars in mine, flashlights, and sunglasses. We each took out a spare shirt and wrapped it around my hand while I was holding the Glock, then used a few pins to hold them in place. This primitive silencer should quiet the Glock enough to get us in without detection. I walked to the door, held the hand up to the glass, aimed at her head while she was frantically scrabbling, and pulled the trigger.
Three things happened. First, the gun fired through the glass, and was far louder than any of us had expected. Second, the glass shattered and fell with a crash to the ground. Third, the zombie fell backwards like a prizefighter had just popped her one in the face. Her skull leaked a gooey brown and blue-grey fluid onto the carpet, and she didn’t move again. We all looked around frantically, realising at the same time that the many nearby undead would be trying to find the source of the gunshot now, and that our time was very limited. We all walked into the office. Having come so far we were willing to hide here for a
In this fashion, it took another hour and a half to get ten more blocks, and we were constantly checking behind us to make sure the fifteen or so zombies back there hadn’t found a trail to follow. It was really getting hot out now, so we took a few minutes in some shade for a drink and a rest. We were in the shade at the side of a building, just behind a dumpster, with a clear view of the streets, when a zombie shambled past the front of the building, heading back the way we had come from. It was followed by three more, presumably drawn by the noise of the shooting earlier. Ten more minutes passed before we were willing to venture out again, and we hadn’t seen any more of them appear. The four that had passed were no longer in sight, so we cautiously made our way down the back of the building, and out onto the front again. In this leapfrogging manner (two covering, one moving) we made our way to the offices of Can-Pro. It took some time to find the actual offices once we arrived at the right building, since Unit 4 of Nondescript Industrial Park Building A looked an awful lot like Units 2, 7, and 8 through 12 of Nondescript Industrial Park Buildings A, B and C. Half an hour later Dave spotted a familiar sign on a door, Can-Pro Constructs and Developments, LTD with a phone number and business hours.
By that time, we were ready for a rest, water, and lunch. We approached the door, and I spotted motion inside the office. A split second later a corpse hit the door hard, making all of us jump back. The door held, and the once-attractive young woman’s animated shell inside the offices started pounding her black and blue fists on the glass to get at us. The door was obviously locked, I thought, since it would have opened under her onslaught otherwise. Dave and Jess and I went around the side of the building to the back doors, and remembering what unit it was, found the loading dock and man-door there. Both were locked. Both were metal doors, so we were not getting in that way, unless we could find a key, a prospect I held as slim at best. We snuck around front again, and sure enough, as soon as we were at the door the undead woman inside was there, smashing and clawing at the glass, frantically trying to get at us. If she’d had any brain power at all she would have just turned the lock. Looking at her I felt a sudden hope. These things were stupider than snails. Given time, we’d defeat them. Given time, they’d rot away and become moot.
We discussed what to do, and finally got a plan together. We needed to be quiet, not attract any more of the undead, and get in there. Jess had an idea. We each had brought a backpack with extra ammo, extra clothes, water and food, binoculars in mine, flashlights, and sunglasses. We each took out a spare shirt and wrapped it around my hand while I was holding the Glock, then used a few pins to hold them in place. This primitive silencer should quiet the Glock enough to get us in without detection. I walked to the door, held the hand up to the glass, aimed at her head while she was frantically scrabbling, and pulled the trigger.
Three things happened. First, the gun fired through the glass, and was far louder than any of us had expected. Second, the glass shattered and fell with a crash to the ground. Third, the zombie fell backwards like a prizefighter had just popped her one in the face. Her skull leaked a gooey brown and blue-grey fluid onto the carpet, and she didn’t move again. We all looked around frantically, realising at the same time that the many nearby undead would be trying to find the source of the gunshot now, and that our time was very limited. We all walked into the office. Having come so far we were willing to hide here for a
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