Deadland's Harvest

“Agreed.”


“I’m coming!” Bill called out and glanced over his shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t understand. This is part of our emergency procedures. Someone probably locked them in here for safety, so that zeds couldn’t get to them. But now they can’t get out unless we unlock it for them.”

“Then why didn’t they lock the door from the other side,” Jase asked dubiously.

Bill slid the pipe out from the handles and pulled open the door. He stood there, staring into the darkness. “Katie? Jan?”

Moans echoed. Jase and I both lunged for the door the same time a zed tumbled from the darkness. Bill cried out and shoved it down. Jase slammed the door shut, and I slid the bar back into place. I spun on my heel to see Bill holding the zed back with his hands pressing against its shoulders.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of fists pounded against the metal door. It sounded like the entire theater was filled with zeds.

Jase swung his machete, taking off the top of the zed’s skull, and it collapsed.

“Holy shit,” Jase said, sucking in a breath.

“Yeah,” I said breathlessly before turning around to find Bill frozen behind us. After wiping sweat from my face, I grabbed his arm. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Both Jase and I pulled at him, but he dug in his heels. “The theater was safe. No windows. How’d the zeds find them?”

“Someone was probably infected before going in there,” I answered.

“That door isn’t going to hold them for long,” Jase tacked on. “We need to get out of here. Because those are going to be some fresh and fast zeds in there.”

Bill collapsed onto the floor with his head between his knees, hugging himself. “I never should’ve left. I should’ve come earlier.”

Jase and I looked at each other, hopeless. Neither of us spoke. I didn’t voice the truth, that his family had probably never stood a chance.

The sounds of fists pounding against the doors echoed through the center. The bar through the door handles clanged as the door moved against it in a rhythmic wave. It would take minutes, at most, for them to break free.

I nudged Bill. “We have to go.”

He shook his head. “What’s the use in going on?” He looked up, tears running down his cheeks. “It’s my fault. I should’ve come for them.” His voice grew louder with every word, and I tried to shush him. Bill shook his fist at the theater. “You bastards! You’re all bastards!”

I eyed Jase and he nodded. “We need to go now,” he said, enunciating every word.

I nodded. We each grabbed one of Bill’s arms and pulled him to his feet.

He tore away. “No!” He fell back onto his butt and sobbed.

I pursed my lips. “Bill, it’s not your fault what happened.”

“There’s nothing you can do, Bill. Your family would want you to save yourself.”

Bill didn’t respond, instead he continued to sob.

We tried to pull him up again, but he shoved away and fell back down. The zeds’ moaning and pounding were growing louder, echoing throughout the student center.

This time when I eyed Jase, his features hardened, and he shook his head slowly. I swallowed and glanced down at Bill one more time. The man had reached his breaking point. He’d chosen to give up rather than to keep on living. I wanted to yank him along with us, but I knew it would be pointless. If we took the time to drag him, we’d never get out of there alive.

My throat tightened and I stepped back. Then Jase and I ran back to the plane, leaving Bill behind with a theater full of zeds.





Chapter V


“Where’s Bill?” Clutch asked as Jase and I piled into the Cessna. I dumped my gear onto Jase’s lap and pulled the door closed.

A distant scream broke through the silence.

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