Pulling the SWAT van up to the side of the building, Roger killed the engine, and the sudden silence was all consuming. Everyone was looking to everyone else and then Shavian flinched as something slapped against the outer shell of the truck. Roger looked out the side window as a zombie was licking at the window like it was trying to clean a dinner plate. Blinking he stood up and moved away from the window. “So umm, you got this right?” He rubbed his arm.
“What are you talking about?” Shavian said, frowning back at him.
“You’re on a mission from God. Aren’t you?” Roger said.
Elliott stepped between them as Shavian’s face grew in color. “We just have to relax for a few, and the other noises will lead them off. Then we can sneak in.”
From the pounding going on along the hull it didn’t feel like it was going to ever stop. Thirty minutes later they knew it wasn’t.
Pulling himself up from the floorboard, Roger took up one of the rifles and started picking up clips.
“Roger?” Elliott asked.
He didn’t say anything as he walked to the back door and undid the lock.
“Roger?” Shavian turned, scrambling to her feet after him.
“I’d say, if you don’t want to be late to the party, you might want to shake a leg,” Roger grinned and pushed open the door before looking to the dog Pat. “Stay and guard my boy,” he said, putting two bullets through the first zombie he saw. Taking his words to heart, Shavian jumped out after him, followed quickly by Fipps and Jackson.
Using the rifle Roger cut a swath through the zombies, not worried about killing them, just knocking them away as they turned and headed for the protection of the fence. Behind him Elliott and Higgins closed the van door before moving after.
The men behind the fence were yelling something at them but Roger couldn’t hear them over the gunfire; soon even they were putting down zombies as well, gun smoke filling the damp air as the gate was opened for them to dive in.
The gate was slammed shut just as zombies they had dodged and not shot reached them.
The man locking the gate looked back at them and frowned. “Are you guys fucking nuts?” he yelled.
Roger looked back over the path they’d run and none of the zombies he’d hit were getting up. He was only confused till he saw Shavian reloading her pistol; she’d head tapped every zombie he’d winged. He felt the wind flutter in his sails but the boat moved on. “Aye, nuts maybe, but we’re here aren’t we?”
“Yeah, I’ll give you that one.” The man nodded to the front door. “We just need to check you for bites and will have to take your guns, but you’re welcome to go see if your friend is in there.”
Higgins stepped forward. “Cops.” He pointed to his badge.
The men looked to one another trying to figure out what they should do; it was clear cops no longer had any control of the city, but on the other hand this wasn’t anarchy.
“And you’re all cops?” The man was looking at Shavian, clearly not even old enough to be at a beer festival, let alone be a cop.
Higgins, knowing he’d gotten the upper hand, said, “Cops.”
He pushed through the door into the building, the rest following behind him. Inside they found what was once a large hotel lobby; now it was sectioned off with tables of all kinds lined out with taps and kegs.
“Sweet nectar of the gods,” Roger declared as he let his jaw drop.
“We aren’t going to find Blond Crazy,” Fipps said. “This place is huge.”
He was right Roger knew. There were even more people flooding off into other halls, and as it was a hotel she could even be on another floor.
“We are going to need to split up,” Elliott said. “Jackson and Fipps, Higgins and Shavian, and I’ll go with Roger.”
Roger turned a questioning glace at Elliott involuntarily; Shavian on the other hand looked relieved.
“Alright my boy; lets find our wild lass.”
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