Jacqueline Druga - Immune

“Where are our soldiers?” Eugene asked. “Didn’t you say there were, like, eight?”

“When Stanton didn’t come back, they left.”

“Smart guys.”

“I thought we had one left.” Myron grunted and stood. “He was supposed to be up here. Are we going to tell Paul?”

“Hating to do it, but yes. It’s only right.”

“I agree.”

“We can always knock him out if he….” Eugene walked to the edge of the roof and looked down. “Holy shit.”

Myron rushed over. “It wasn’t like this twenty minutes ago.”

“And it won’t be like this twenty minutes from now.”

A sea of infected had converged on the school property, and a few straggled on the street, but they crammed in. The barricade had completely collapsed from the weight of all of them pushing through.

“So much for five at a time,” Myron said. “We should move on this now.”

“Agreed. Let’s get Paul, radio Tara that we’re leaving, and get everyone to the roof to evacuate.” Eugene climbed in the hatch and down the ladder. “Max is getting them ready now.”

The last they had seen Paul, he was in the south hall. That was their first destination. A twenty foot walk. If Paul was sleeping, he had no idea what was going on. When they arrived at the south hall, they found the door to the science center open.

“Paul?” Eugene called out.

Myron walked ahead and checked the four rooms. “He’s not here. You think he left?”

“No. He must be in the gym. Let’s radio Tara.”

“Wait.” Myron moved toward the stairwell.

“What are you doing?”

“Just seeing if he left. If he did, this door would be…” Myron reached for the emergency exit, a blue door that led not only to another staircase, but also to an outside exit.

Something was wrong.

“What is it?”

A hint of sunlight shone through the single pane of glass of that door and then… the face of an infected man appeared.

Myron backed up. “They’re in.”

“Shit.” Eugene hurriedly turned around. “We have to warn the others.”

Down the hall and rounding the bed, they hit the main hall and both skidded to a stop in front of the main office.

The chorus of high pitched squeals carried to them as a mass of infected poured in through the main doors, one of which was propped open by a garbage can.

The can toppled over and when Eugene was spotted, the infected raced his way.

“Jesus!” Eugene said. “Someone let them in!”

Eugene knew it had to be that soldier, Paul, or both. Neither had been seen for some time and the best way for a clear path outside was to let the infected in.

Both men spun on their heels and ran.

“What about the people in the gym?” Myron asked.

“The doors are closed. We have to get to the roof. We can reach them from there.”

When they passed the south hall they were met my more infected, hordes of them. They reached and grabbed for Eugene.

Myron quickly grabbed Eugene, pulling him from their grip. Pivoting his body, Myron pushed Eugene forward, but the masses of infected were relentless. Myron was surrounded and couldn’t move. It was like pushing through a wall. They surged for Eugene, grabbing, arms reaching even as he made it to the stairwell. Myron learned something new.

The infected may not have chased after him, but he wasn’t immune if he got in their way. His heroic attempts were futile. While helping his new friend, he got caught in the attack and clipped by a swinging arm. The fingernails clawed with such force that they seared through his belly with razor sharpness. A rough and jagged slice gutted Myron.

Blood poured from his stomach and with every bit of fortitude he had left, Myron lunged for the stairwell.

“Oh my God!” Eugene hurried to him from the first landing.

“No. Stay there. It’s safe.” Myron coughed and made it only halfway up the first flight of stairs before he collapsed. Eugene grabbed hold of him and with his help, Myron tried to keep going, even though he was on his hands and knees. He’d get to that rooftop.

After the departure of the soldiers and those who had died, our of the forty-three people left, only twenty-four remained. They stood in the gym, what few belongings they had perched with them.

“We’ll be taking it to the roof slowly,” Max explained. “Four at a time. The scaffolding will not hold a lot of people, so keep that in mind.” He walked over to Grace. “Keep Candice close to you.”

“Where will you be?” she asked.

“Down here helping people up or on the roof making sure no one jumps the ladder. It’ll be fine.”

“Is Canada really a safe zone?”

“That’s what they say. Eugene will fly us somewhere, that’s for sure.” Max quickly turned his head at the sound of the gym doors being pulled as if someone were trying to open them. “Are they locked?”

Grace shrugged.

Beret walked across the floor. “I think they are. It’s probably Myron. I’ll get it. Start getting everyone up the scaffold.” He pushed the metal bar on the door and opened it.

The door widened and infected poured in. So many rushed through the doors, even though he was immune, Beret was trampled beneath them.

Max didn’t have enough ammunition in his clip. He grabbed onto Grace’s arm and pulled her to the scaffolding. By the time they arrived there, many had already climbed on, running in a panic to get to the ladder. A tsunami of infected flooded the gym, making their way like a wave to the corner where the scaffolding was located.

Grace held Candice close to her and Max blocked the way. He looked at the infected then to those climbing the scaffold. It wasn’t going to work. There was no way he would get Grace there in time. His only option was to get them on the top bleacher. He reached for Grace and was shoved forward by someone running to get out and lost his footing. He stumbled, quickly regained his stance, and turned. Grace was gone.

“Grace!”

“Max!” Candice yelled.

He looked back. They were on the first level of the scaffolding. It was already shaking. Twenty people weren’t a lot, but it was enough to topple it.

Reaching for the scaffolding, he held it tight. He was only one man, and chances were it wouldn’t make a difference, but he would try to keep it steady.

The scaffolding shook and swayed. Grace held on to the bar as she and Candice climbed. There were five levels. People were below her and above. The ones on the ladder weren’t moving fast enough.

“Mommy!” Candice whimpered.

“Keep moving, baby. Move!” Grace tried to see below. Where was Max? The infected aimed for the scaffold, hands reaching. They were safe as long as they were above them,

Three more levels to go.

“Grace!” Max shouted. “Keep moving. Don’t stop!”

Grace looked down. She caught a quick glimpse of Max on the bottom steps of the scaffold. Lifting her head, she saw everything was at a standstill. Four or five people were crammed on the ladder.

Please hurry. Climb faster. Climb faster!

As they rounded the bend to take the next flight of stairs, the scaffolding swayed drastically, causing a blizzard of frightened screams. It steadied and Grace sighed. She inched Candice to the next set of stairs and without any warning, the side gave out, the scaffolding jolted and, screaming loudly, Candice flew backwards. At least ten people above her fell off.

Grace was fast, she was close. She reached out and grabbed Candice. Holding the bar above for balance, Grace held her dangling daughter by the wrist.

“I got you. Don’t move!” Grace yelled down.

“Mommy!”

It took all Grace had to hold her. There wasn’t a speck of floor to be seen; the massive crowd of infected gathered under her little feet, all reaching for Candice, their fingertips mere inches from her.