Zombies! (Episode 5): Sinners and Saints by Ivan Turner
Authors: Ivan Turner
Tags: Zombies
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against it. If there was furniture on the other side of the door, then cutting it would have little effect. They'd still need to push through.
Squad two was led by Baches. He was a big guy, six foot eight, with almost four hundred pounds of muscle. He spent most of his free time chasing women and building muscle tone. That having been said, he was a soft spoken and thoughtful person. When Culph called out for muscle power, Baches moved forward, shouldering his rifle.
“We need that door open now,” Culph told him.
Baches grinned.
***
Smith led Squad three. They were first ordered to cover the stairs but Heron overrode that order. He pushed Squad four to the stairs and sent Squad five into the sanctuary. He wanted Squad three to check out the kitchen and storeroom.
Smith formed his squad in much the same way Culph had. They came out of the stairwell quickly, already covered by Squad two on both sides. One by one, Smith's men moved through Baches' men and cleared the distance between them and the kitchen. There were still two unchecked doors. One was a storage closet, empty. The other was another room set up with tables and chairs and populated by the dead. Their gunfire startled Culph and Baches as they hammered at the door at the opposite end of the hall.
With Culph occupied, Heron turned his attention to Smith's camera. Hong, bringing up the rear, had Squad three's second camera. Smith ducked inside the kitchen with Anton right behind him. They trained their guns and their lights in all directions, checking their corners and staying alert. The kitchen seemed deserted.
Straight toward the back was a heavy door that stood completely ajar. Through it they could see a narrow space lined with rows of shelves. There was far less dust here than in the corridor. Smith could see clear through to the back of the storeroom where another door, closed, led up and to the outside. At the base of that door was the trap reported by Dominquez. It too stood open, a black yawning space in the middle of the floor.
Smith proceeded slowly, keenly aware that zombies could be quiet and camouflaged despite their utter lack of sense. He and Anton checked every tiny hidey hole as they moved and the men behind them double checked. Both the kitchen and the storeroom were clear.
Shining his light into the trap, Smith could see a flight of boarded stairs. He assumed stone underneath the boards, probably matching the walls. His light didn't penetrate nearly far enough for his comfort and this flight was even more narrow than the basement stairs. They'd have to go down single file and it would be too cramped to properly aim their rifles. Smith hesitated.
“Proceed down,” Heron ordered, swallowing hard. Ordering men into that hole was probably the most difficult thing he had ever done. This was not a job for the police. It was a military exercise. “Squad four, rendezvous with Squad three. Squad two take the basement stairs.”
To his credit, Smith didn't utter a protest as he stepped onto the stairwell. Two steps down and he slung his rifle, choosing the handgun and the flashlight. There was no electricity down there. The stairs looked as if they had been cut into the bedrock. The wooden planks offered stability for his feet but the atmosphere didn't do anything for his nerves. The further he went, the more agitated he became. Five steps above him, Anton matched his every move. They went down and down, forty one stairs. But the steps were short and narrow so he figured it was about two stories, maybe a bit more. At the bottom, there was a small alcove and then the walls opened up depositing them into a large, dark room cut directly out of the hard clay beneath the church. It was cold and damp and frightening.
In the van, Heron cursed as both his camera and radio feeds sputtered static and then went blank.
“Do we have any
Squad two was led by Baches. He was a big guy, six foot eight, with almost four hundred pounds of muscle. He spent most of his free time chasing women and building muscle tone. That having been said, he was a soft spoken and thoughtful person. When Culph called out for muscle power, Baches moved forward, shouldering his rifle.
“We need that door open now,” Culph told him.
Baches grinned.
***
Smith led Squad three. They were first ordered to cover the stairs but Heron overrode that order. He pushed Squad four to the stairs and sent Squad five into the sanctuary. He wanted Squad three to check out the kitchen and storeroom.
Smith formed his squad in much the same way Culph had. They came out of the stairwell quickly, already covered by Squad two on both sides. One by one, Smith's men moved through Baches' men and cleared the distance between them and the kitchen. There were still two unchecked doors. One was a storage closet, empty. The other was another room set up with tables and chairs and populated by the dead. Their gunfire startled Culph and Baches as they hammered at the door at the opposite end of the hall.
With Culph occupied, Heron turned his attention to Smith's camera. Hong, bringing up the rear, had Squad three's second camera. Smith ducked inside the kitchen with Anton right behind him. They trained their guns and their lights in all directions, checking their corners and staying alert. The kitchen seemed deserted.
Straight toward the back was a heavy door that stood completely ajar. Through it they could see a narrow space lined with rows of shelves. There was far less dust here than in the corridor. Smith could see clear through to the back of the storeroom where another door, closed, led up and to the outside. At the base of that door was the trap reported by Dominquez. It too stood open, a black yawning space in the middle of the floor.
Smith proceeded slowly, keenly aware that zombies could be quiet and camouflaged despite their utter lack of sense. He and Anton checked every tiny hidey hole as they moved and the men behind them double checked. Both the kitchen and the storeroom were clear.
Shining his light into the trap, Smith could see a flight of boarded stairs. He assumed stone underneath the boards, probably matching the walls. His light didn't penetrate nearly far enough for his comfort and this flight was even more narrow than the basement stairs. They'd have to go down single file and it would be too cramped to properly aim their rifles. Smith hesitated.
“Proceed down,” Heron ordered, swallowing hard. Ordering men into that hole was probably the most difficult thing he had ever done. This was not a job for the police. It was a military exercise. “Squad four, rendezvous with Squad three. Squad two take the basement stairs.”
To his credit, Smith didn't utter a protest as he stepped onto the stairwell. Two steps down and he slung his rifle, choosing the handgun and the flashlight. There was no electricity down there. The stairs looked as if they had been cut into the bedrock. The wooden planks offered stability for his feet but the atmosphere didn't do anything for his nerves. The further he went, the more agitated he became. Five steps above him, Anton matched his every move. They went down and down, forty one stairs. But the steps were short and narrow so he figured it was about two stories, maybe a bit more. At the bottom, there was a small alcove and then the walls opened up depositing them into a large, dark room cut directly out of the hard clay beneath the church. It was cold and damp and frightening.
In the van, Heron cursed as both his camera and radio feeds sputtered static and then went blank.
“Do we have any
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