John Krygelski - The Aegis Solution

Lisa, who had been off to the side, let out a single loud sob, overcome by the harshness of what they were doing. Elias caught Clements’ eye and motioned with his head that he should move her back away from the door.

As Matt gently walked his wife to the far intersection, still littered with the corpses of Faulk’s team, Leah joined Elias, who was leaning against the gang box, adding his weight to the barrier. She asked Crabill, “Are the keys to the truck still out there?”

He answered her as he finished hammering-in the second chisel. “Yes. We left them in the ignition. Why?”

“Because it isn’t going to take those folks long to see that we aren’t going to open this door voluntarily. My guess is that they’ll try to ram it.”

“Anyone here know how to use a welder?” Elias yelled over the banging and screaming coming through the door.

“I do,” Crabill answered.

“Put your weight against this. I’ll be right back.”

Elias stood up from the gang box and dashed into the utility room. He realized that in the last few minutes, he had forgotten that his last sight of Tillie was of her lying facedown on the floor. He was instantly relieved to see her sitting up, with Sam and Hutson kneeling beside her, Hutson holding a rag to the side of her head.

Keeping her head still, she turned her eyes to Elias. “What’s going on out there?”

He answered her as he raced past, heading for the last aisle. “Faulk’s gone. A crowd has arrived. They want in.”

“We can’t let them in?”

“Wilson doesn’t think we can take the chance. They might be infected.”

“Oh, my God.”

He glanced toward her and saw a tragic expression on her face.

Elias was madly tossing aside ladders, sawhorses, and other building paraphernalia, when he spotted the portable welding rig that he had remembered from his earlier scouting of the room.

“Mike, give me a hand with this.”

“Yes, sir.” Hutson jumped up and grabbed the opposite side of the welder, helping Elias lift it above the jumbled pile of tools on the floor. After they cleared the pile, they set the rig on the floor, and Elias rolled it out to Crabill, who immediately began the task of firing it up.

“Jay, will this work?”

“Absolutely. Self-contained rig. Everything I need is right with it.”

The clamor from outside had intensified as Elias again put his back to the gang box and slid down so that he was sitting on the floor against it. Leah was next to him, as was Wilson. The people outside had ceased the disorganized pounding on the door with their fists and were now trying to break it down with coordinated slams. The three pushing against the gang box could feel the jarring vibration from the impacts. Sweezea had dug through the pile of steel they had dragged inside earlier when they were still trying to clear the opening, and found two lengths that suited him. He returned to the exit and tucked one end of a bar against the door so that it was angled against the shattered keypad. He then jammed the other end against the door frame of the utility room, providing an added brace.

“Clear!” Crabill called out.

Sweezea crouched in front of Elias and the others, placing his hands on the gang box above their shoulders, and pushing. With his back to Crabill, Elias saw the flickering light of the arc welder casting its harsh white glow down the hallway. It seemed like a constant bolt of lighting, striking behind him. He noticed Clements coming back around the corner toward them, using his hand to shield his eyes from the welding arc, and surmised that he had found a place to leave Lisa.

Reaching the four of them, Clements knelt down and shouted over the din, “That’s a hollow metal frame around that door. I didn’t install it, so I can’t be sure, but the normal method is that you drill the concrete wall in six spots, sink bolts in the six holes with epoxy, and then fill the cavity with grout. It’s pretty strong, but I’m not certain it will withstand being rammed by the truck.”

Elias leaned closer to be heard and raised his voice. “What can we do?”

“There are four flange-plates exposed on the sides of the opening, two on each side. If Jay welds the frame to those plates, that’ll help a lot.”

The intense, flickering light ceased as Crabill was repositioning for the next weld. Elias stood up quickly and tapped him on the shoulder. Jay turned and flipped up the welder’s mask he was wearing. Elias could see that he had already placed welds on both sides of the door, welding the door directly to the frame, using small steel shims as bridges to reach across the gap. He passed on Clements’ suggestion, shouting over the crashing and banging coming from the outside. Crabill turned and examined the face of the opening in the concrete wall, which was substantially thicker than the door frame, and saw the two upper flange-plates.

“We’ll need to push this gang box out of the way for me to get to the lower ones. We can do that after I finish up top.”

Elias nodded and dropped back into his seated position against the box. One or two minutes passed, with no one attempting to speak above the din, before Crabill indicated he was ready. As a group, they all pushed the gang box to the side, and he immediately began work on the two lower flanges. The almost rhythmic crashing at the door suddenly stopped. There was no more clamor from the other side. For a moment the only sound was from the welding operation, until they heard the unmistakable growl of the truck engine revving up.

Crabill had finished welding the frame to one of the lower plates and was working on the second when the impact came. The crash was deafening and the door and frame shuddered from the force, but it all held. Unruffled by the violent distractions, he finished the bead on the second plate as they heard the truck back up for another run.

“Add this!”

Turning, Crabill saw Clements holding a three-foot-long piece of angled steel he had retrieved from the debris pile. “Weld it to the frame as a cross-brace, like this.” He held it up to the door, showing Crabill what he meant. With a downward jerk of his head, Crabill flipped down the mask and touched the welding rod to the steel where it rested against the jamb. Clements and the others shielded their eyes just in time.

The truck slammed into the door a second time, bulging the metal inward. Elias and Sweezea ran to the pile and scrounged for more steel struts. They returned to the door and dropped them at Crabill’s feet. He had finished with the first and selected another, positioning it lower on the door, closer to the height of the bumper on the truck. After welding the left side, he shouted for Sweezea and Elias to push the free end of the strut against the doorjamb. The bulge from the second impact was holding it away from the frame. They both put their weight into it and forced the face of the door back in, allowing the strut to touch the frame. The instant it made contact Crabill welded it, finishing the bead as the truck hit the door for the third time. The frame, the door, and the struts all held.

The tension having lessened, they worked as a team and added five more struts. The truck battered the door twice more before the driver either gave up or had damaged the truck so badly that it would no longer run.

Hutson looked at Matt. “You didn’t leave the key in the backhoe, did you?”

Clements reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a single key on a small ring, and answered, “No, I’ve got it.”

“Good.”

Now that they had done all they could think of to do, Elias, Crabill, Sweezea, Wilson, and Leah moved back from the former exit, physically distancing themselves from the sporadic pounding and shouts, trying to do the same with their emotions. Tillie, walking somewhat unsteadily and pressing a rag to the side of her head, emerged from the utility room, accompanied by Sam. She made a point of averting her eyes away from the direction of the barricaded exit door and walked to the group. The two of them joined the others as they sat on the floor. No one spoke.