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"Then you leave me no choice." Ramsey pointed the gun at his chest. "You
are standing between us and the elevator to the roof. Get out of our
way, Mr. Thurmond, or I can guarantee that you and your son will join
the undead."
"Fuck this, Mr. Ramsey," DiMassi grunted. "Let's just use the stairwell
on the other end of the hallway."
Jim clenched his fists and whispered, "Danny, run back to the elevators
and get help."
Instead, Danny stepped forward, his own small hands balled into fists
like his father's.
"You leave my Daddy alone, and let Frankie go!"
Ramsey laughed. "That is exactly the kind of spirit the next generation
of humanity will need to survive. You will definitely be an asset, young
man. You may come with us."
Danny darted forward and kicked Ramsey in the shin. Before Jim could
move, DiMassi seized Danny. He twisted the boy's arm behind his back,
and used Danny as a shield. Danny cried out.
"Don't move, Thurmond," Ramsey shouted. "Do as I say, and I give you my
word that your son will live. Disobey me, and I will kill you all,
starting with him."
"That will be the last thing you ever do, you son of a bitch. Leave him
alone."
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"This is not the time for bravado, Mr. Thurmond. I know your story. You
traveled hundreds of miles to save your son. You won't let him die now."
Jim bit his lip. Blood filled his mouth.
Ramsey motioned with the pistol. "Get down on the floor, now."
Jim hesitated. He saw his own fear reflected in Danny and Frankie's
eyes. Then, reluctantly, he sagged to his knees.
Ramsey grabbed Danny's ear and twisted it between his fingers.
"Let me go!"
"Quiet, you ungrateful little brat. You will do as I say, or I will kill
your father."
Frankie struggled against her bonds.
Ramsey pinched Danny's ear harder. "Lay down on the floor, Thurmond, and
put your hands over your head. DiMassi, bring the woman. We're leaving."
"The only way you're getting out of here with my son," Jim said, "is to
go through me."
"Indeed?"
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"Over my dead body." Jim drew himself up, ready to spring.
Ramsey cocked his head and smiled.
"Very well then. If you insist."
The gunshot echoed through the corridor.
The zombies swarmed onto the second floor, pouring from the stairwells
and spilling out of the elevator shafts. The men and women defending the
entrances had no time to scream, let alone impede their progress. Like a
tidal wave, the zombies washed over them, slaughtering everything in
their path.
Nurse Kelli was on the third floor, on her way back to
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the medical wing to watch over Frankie and the quarantined family with
tuberculosis, when the explosion occurred. The force of the blast
knocked her off her feet, and ceiling tiles and insulation rained down
on her. She lay there breathless, waiting to see if it would occur again.
She'd been assigned a small .22 semi-automatic pistol, which she knew
how to use. Kelli's father and brothers had been avid target shooters
and she'd received a marksman rating from the National Rifle Association
years before. She'd been able to shoot a grouping of three tight enough
to cover them with a quarter. Nailing a zombie in the head would be easy
enough.
Picking herself back up and retrieving the pistol, Kelli ran for the
stairwell. The gun made her feel safer. She wondered where Dr. Stern
was, and hoped that he was okay.
Two men and a woman stood by the elevator doors, repeatedly jabbing the
buttons.
"Don't take the elevators," Kelli cautioned. "That was an explosion."
"Are you sure?" one of the men asked. The others stared at her blankly.
"I think so, yes."
"Bates didn't say anything about explosions. What should we do?"
"Fight back."
"How?" one of the women asked. "There's nothing here to fight. They're
all outside."
The man nodded. His voice was frantic, pleading. "Mr. Ramsey said they
couldn't get in. He promised."
"Mr. Ramsey was full of shit," Kelli said.
The woman gasped. "You shouldn't talk like that! Mr. Ramsey saved us all."
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Not bothering to respond, Kelli hurried on. She rounded the corner, and
spotted an exit sign at the end of the hall. Just as she reached for the
door, it slammed into her, shoved from the other side.
Zombies swarmed through the doorway and opened fire.
The first bullet caught her in the stomach. The second punched the
breath and blood from her lungs in midscream. Kelli had time to see a
butcher knife flashing downward and then her severed artery squirted
blood into her eyes, blinding her. She slipped to the floor, crushed
beneath their stomping feet.
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