Orpheus and his city map. “Okay, this,” He drew a large X over the building they were in. “...is clear. Retrieval is complete. Batteries in the walkies been swapped out?” He saw several nods. “Good. And I hope everyone's gone to the bathroom, because now we get in the shit again.”
They secured the building as they left and backtracked to the intended reap zone. Orpheus didn't expect much in the way of a zombie presence. The “warehouse district” as it was called was a relative term. Mostly, it consisted of modest companies who had their operations and storage in the same place, such as the local window manufacturer and newspaper publisher. Those buildings would have been mostly if not completely evacuated right in the beginning, as they had a small number of employees with transportation easily accessible in their dedicated parking areas. Easy in, easy out.
Still, they were just as cautious as they would be anywhere else. Complacency killed. The sweeps didn't take long, and, as expected, they found no one, or thing, inside any of them. The large ventilation pipes and wide open spaces would make the burn even easier. The only thing that really stuck out in Orpheus' mind was in the printing room of the newspaper. The line of newspapers left abandoned on the press didn't proclaim “THE DEAD WALK THE EARTH” or other such nonsense like you saw in the movies. The headline had to do with island politics. Somehow, that was even more unsettling. The speed at which this thing had happened was frightening.
They dropped a smaller number of walkies than normal in and around those buildings and hoofed it to the theater. They were acutely aware of the throng of zombies that still occupied the alley between the theater and the library, drawn by their arrival, so they quietly slipped up the fire escape to the roof. The existence of the fire escape wasn't coincidence or a stroke of luck; it was another reason why they chose this insertion point.
Once on the roof, they took a breather, grabbed a quick snack, and checked their gear. Sam grabbed several pairs of handcuffs and a pole with a loop on the end of it, similar to what a dog catcher would use to corral a rabid dog.
Tim had an uneasy feeling what those meant.
They made the leap back to the library roof and gathered around the door. Mutt asked him what the plan was. Orpheus said, “I'm almost positive that there's a Jekyll somewhere on the other side of that door. Unfortunately, I have no idea what else might be. So, my big plan is to open this door and wing it.”
Tim surprised himself when he said, “I'll do it.”
His comment was met with four furrowed brows.
“Not likely," Mutt snapped. "You can be the first one to cover me, though. How's that?”
“Come on, Orpheus! You had no problem setting me loose in the theater. I could have just as easily been killed there. Let me take the lead. I'm ready.”
“You're not ready for a Jekyll; no one ever is. Maybe someday.” Believing he had made his point, he took Mutt's weapon and replaced it with one of the poles. “Slip this over its head and don't let go. Don't hesitate. And for Christ's sake, don't trust it. Just loop it and move back to the stairs as quickly as you can.”
“Got it.”
Orpheus put his hand on the knob. “Sam, Fish, when we get to a safe place you two are on cuffs."
“Hey, thanks,” Fish said.
Orpheus looked to Tim. “Don't engage unless I do.”
Tim nodded.
“Wait for my signal. Do nothing until I say.” Orpheus cracked the door open and Mutt pushed his light in a few inches. He swept it left to right and back again. He stopped on a hunched shape near the base of the stairs. Its back was to them, and it appeared to be alone. It was moving, swaying, back and forth in one spot. Orpheus appreciated the small favor. He said, “That's your target. Grab and go.” He swung the door open wide enough to accommodate all of them.
Tim moved fast. He yanked the pole out of Mutt's
They secured the building as they left and backtracked to the intended reap zone. Orpheus didn't expect much in the way of a zombie presence. The “warehouse district” as it was called was a relative term. Mostly, it consisted of modest companies who had their operations and storage in the same place, such as the local window manufacturer and newspaper publisher. Those buildings would have been mostly if not completely evacuated right in the beginning, as they had a small number of employees with transportation easily accessible in their dedicated parking areas. Easy in, easy out.
Still, they were just as cautious as they would be anywhere else. Complacency killed. The sweeps didn't take long, and, as expected, they found no one, or thing, inside any of them. The large ventilation pipes and wide open spaces would make the burn even easier. The only thing that really stuck out in Orpheus' mind was in the printing room of the newspaper. The line of newspapers left abandoned on the press didn't proclaim “THE DEAD WALK THE EARTH” or other such nonsense like you saw in the movies. The headline had to do with island politics. Somehow, that was even more unsettling. The speed at which this thing had happened was frightening.
They dropped a smaller number of walkies than normal in and around those buildings and hoofed it to the theater. They were acutely aware of the throng of zombies that still occupied the alley between the theater and the library, drawn by their arrival, so they quietly slipped up the fire escape to the roof. The existence of the fire escape wasn't coincidence or a stroke of luck; it was another reason why they chose this insertion point.
Once on the roof, they took a breather, grabbed a quick snack, and checked their gear. Sam grabbed several pairs of handcuffs and a pole with a loop on the end of it, similar to what a dog catcher would use to corral a rabid dog.
Tim had an uneasy feeling what those meant.
They made the leap back to the library roof and gathered around the door. Mutt asked him what the plan was. Orpheus said, “I'm almost positive that there's a Jekyll somewhere on the other side of that door. Unfortunately, I have no idea what else might be. So, my big plan is to open this door and wing it.”
Tim surprised himself when he said, “I'll do it.”
His comment was met with four furrowed brows.
“Not likely," Mutt snapped. "You can be the first one to cover me, though. How's that?”
“Come on, Orpheus! You had no problem setting me loose in the theater. I could have just as easily been killed there. Let me take the lead. I'm ready.”
“You're not ready for a Jekyll; no one ever is. Maybe someday.” Believing he had made his point, he took Mutt's weapon and replaced it with one of the poles. “Slip this over its head and don't let go. Don't hesitate. And for Christ's sake, don't trust it. Just loop it and move back to the stairs as quickly as you can.”
“Got it.”
Orpheus put his hand on the knob. “Sam, Fish, when we get to a safe place you two are on cuffs."
“Hey, thanks,” Fish said.
Orpheus looked to Tim. “Don't engage unless I do.”
Tim nodded.
“Wait for my signal. Do nothing until I say.” Orpheus cracked the door open and Mutt pushed his light in a few inches. He swept it left to right and back again. He stopped on a hunched shape near the base of the stairs. Its back was to them, and it appeared to be alone. It was moving, swaying, back and forth in one spot. Orpheus appreciated the small favor. He said, “That's your target. Grab and go.” He swung the door open wide enough to accommodate all of them.
Tim moved fast. He yanked the pole out of Mutt's
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