The Reaper Virus by Nathan Barnes Page B

in that room since
that day. And since that day almost seven years ago I have pondered
the mystery of that void in the wall. No one seems to know much
about it. Either that or they won’t tell me. My guess is the tunnel
leads across to West Franklin Street where the old dispatch and
administrative offices were. Assuming this is the case, it would
get us away from here and the hoard it has drawn. Hopefully,
Franklin Street is a little quieter. If we make it that far, we’ll
take it from there. Either way, it will get us away from here.”
    A moment of silent contemplation followed as
we continued down the quiet basement hall. Brad broke the silence,
“Are we sure this building will be secure? If it’s not we could be
walking into trouble.” His question was rhetorical of course; a
step in any direction would lead us to trouble.
    “Look at it this way,” Lance said, “at least
the workout will give us a little more muscle and make for a better
meal. I say fuck it. At least we would be going out fighting.”
Leave it to Lance it use his dry Texas humor in the face of certain
death.
    Brad and I nodded in agreement as we reached
our target door. I removed the master keyset from my jacket pocket
and found what I thought to be the correct key. We shared a
collective sigh as I fit the key into the knob and it worked. We
had finally reached the pinnacle of high blood pressure. Then I
opened the door.
    Boxes. Fucking boxes. Evidently I was the
only one who remembered the subterranean escape route. For God only
knows how long, the room had been used as a dump site for what
looked like anything they could find. You
couldn’t even see the back wall past all the clutter.
    “Well damn,” Lance said, “it looks like we’re
gonna get more of a workout than we thought. By the time we reach
the back of the room we should be all sweaty and delicious!”
    “Thanks asshole,” Brad said as we each
grabbed the nearest box.
     
    * * *
     
    1640 hours:
     
    A pin drop would have been deafening in that
moment when Lance moved a box and behind it was blackness. After
what seemed like forever, the entrance to the tunnel revealed
itself to us. The task before us was daunting to say the least. Any
certainty we had in this newly uncertain world would disappear the
second we passed the event horizon into darkness.
    Our bodies were exhausted from moving several
years’ worth of storage items into the hall behind us. Our minds
were even more drained from watching the world collapse around us
in the days leading to this moment.
    I had the idea of moving everything to block
the hall that led upstairs. This wasn’t to further condemn the
coworkers locked in headquarters, but to try and save them. It was
fair to assume we were the only ones who knew about the escape
route.
    The worst case scenario was that we went
through the other end of the tunnel and the infected were waiting
for us. If that happened, they would likely make their way through
the tunnel after finishing with the three of us. I wasn’t about to
fill half of Police Headquarters with the infected just waiting to
be released into populated areas. Even though I had little hope for
those left, I wasn’t going to condemn them from below. At least
clogging the hallway with boxes would create a physical barrier. I
don’t think the zombies possessed the higher thought or physical
stamina required for moving boxes like we did. If I could barely
move the mound of boxes then it was unlikely a walking corpse could
do any better.
    A few minutes later we had the opening
cleared enough for us to get through, each with our own survival
bags. Lance had his duty flashlight, Brad had a keychain light that
did the job, and I had an LED flashlight I brought with me in my
pack. Strategically, we should have gone lights-off. However, the
ever-present and undeniable element of fear combined with the
unfamiliar environment made flashlights a must.
    I had no idea how long the tunnel was. It was
cramped;