If Tomorrow Never Comes- A zombie novel

Chapter 12

The growls increased as the lurkers threw themselves against the doors but Oliver pushed back. He knew it wasn't enough though. That he would soon have to flee if he had hoped for any chance of survival. He'd already scanned every inch of the stairwell, surveying each corner, peering into all the shadows -hoping that another once over would reveal something that he had previously missed but the shadows did not change. No new secret door revealed itself and his arms were beginning to feel like jell-o. They shook along with the doors - warning that they were about to give up.

"This can't be how it ends. I'm not ready, not like this." Oliver thought as he stared into the emotionless faces of the lurkers just behind the oval shaped windows. It was amazing how these things seemed to be sensing Oliver but not with their eyes. None of them made any sort of eye contact and all though the only noise Oliver had been making was his breathing, some how they still knew he was there. They seemed to be freshly turned but their features all looked the same, bloodied, bloated, feral and unfeeling, devoid of anything that once made them human. Oliver briefly thought about his favorite science fiction movie; a cyborg sent back into time from the future to kill a woman who had yet to give birth to a child that would save mankind from being annihilated by an artificial intelligence.

These things weren't cyborgs and clearly not from the future. They did seem destined to rip mankind from the face of the Earth. But unlike the movie, there would be no Savior to come and deliver them from this evil.

If he could he would have pound his fist against the door out of anger. Anger that the dead had reanimated and that he was trapped in this stairway with no way out. Anger that he would never have the opportunity to serve his country with pride. Anger that he would die and no one that he loved would be alive to mourn his passing.

Well, now was the time to step up. He might not be on soil far from home but Oliver was still a member of the United States Army and he was going to protect his homeland until he was no longer able. Taking three deep breaths he counted down in his head three... two... one. Oliver pushed off of the doors and started running down the stairs. The horde poured through the passageway behind him, some lurkers falling and being crushed under foot. Others fell off to the side, flipping over the banister and splattering at the bottom of the stairwell.

Oliver continued his mad dash, praying that he wouldn't trip and fall. Coming to the first floor, his exit was abruptly cut off as a small group of lurkers flooded his path. Nonplussed, Oliver continued his trek down into the basement, quickly slamming the door behind him. The horde smashed into the barrier and it moaned its protest.

Oliver knew that it wouldn't last long under the assault and he began to frantically look for an exit. His eyes landed on another door with Maintenance painted on it. He held his breath as he tried the knob, it was unlocked. He continued to hold his breath as he ripped the door open bracing himself for more lurkers but there were none.

Relieved, he started to breathe again.

He followed the tunnel like hallway lit by yellow bulb emergency lights fed by a generator; the walk wasn't very long but it felt as if he'd walked a few hundred miles in the gloom. His legs pulsed from that mad dash.The exit was a small courtyard which backed-up to the school's library. There were windows and Oliver tried pushing on them to get inside, and hopefully to safety. But they were locked and he wanted to scream at the injustice of it all.

The face of a young boy appeared in front of one of the windows nearly chasing Oliver's heart from his chest. "Someone's out there. He looks like a soldier." The boy shouted, his words muffled on Oliver's end.

"Yes, I'm with the Army. There are a bunch of those dead things out here. Please, I'll die if you don't open this door." Oliver wasn't bluffing, he would die if he didn't get inside. But he had to make whoever was in charge believe his plight as well. They may see his uniform and think that he was perfectly capable to handle all the dead on his own.