Chapter 35

New York City
Outbreak: Day 3
Early Afternoon



Caroline Barron paced around her bedroom, the pregnancy test shaking in her hands as her shoes clicked on the hardwood wood. She’d been throwing up for the last week, and had been in denial each and every day about it. Seeing as how the city was in a crisis, what better time to check if she’d been impregnated? Carrie chuckled at this, remembering her madly going through the linens and medicine closet in the bathroom, searching for that one box with the pregnancy test.

They had tried having kids for the last year, and had failed each time. She had once thought she was pregnant, but it ended up just being a bad cold. There had still been a one of those life-changing tests hidden away in the closet from the last time, and Carrie had made damn sure she’d found it.

“Come on already.” She mumbled impatiently. Her nose wrinkled as more gunfire erupted from outside the luxury apartment. While Nick’s income was decent, being a dentist did have its benefits. Carrie placed the pregnancy test down on her end table and walked over to the window, looking down into the street.

“Oh Nick, why did you have to go…” She trailed off, watching as frightened New Yorkers ran for their lives. Police officers fired into another crowd of people that was stumbling after them. The people absorbed the gunfire like it was nothing, the police officers turned around and fled. One of them wasn’t so lucky, and fell down as a hand shot out from underneath a cab and wrapped around his ankle. In an instant, the crazed people were on top of him, his cries for help going uncalled for as the remaining officers ran for their lives.

Carrie jumped as a loud beep was heard in the kitchen, then smiled when she realized it had been the coffee maker. Forgetting about the pregnancy test, she turned away from the window and walked out of the bedroom. A tidy apartment greeted her as she entered the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee into her favorite mug. Nick had gotten it for her about a year ago; a cartoon drawing of a kid smiling with crooked teeth could be seen. Underneath the cartoon read “#1 Dentist.”

Carrie sat brought the steaming coffee to her lips, deciding to drink it black. The hot caffeine burned her mouth, but she only took a small sip. Carrie’s head turned to the front door as a sudden consistent pounding echoed throughout the apartment. Her eyes widened, and her pupils dilated as the mug was softly set down on the kitchen table.

“Hello?” Carrie called out, taking a single step towards the door. Her shoe clicked loudly as she took the step forward, and the pounding could be heard again. The door rocked in its frame as the person continued knocking.

“Carrie! It’s Joseph, let me in!”

“Joe?” Joseph Speyer had always been an arrogant asshole. He was a lawyer for a profession, so his attitude only seemed fit. The man had never spoken more than two words to Carrie or Nick in the three years that they had lived there. Yet, here he was, pounding on the door begging to be let in. Upon hearing more gunfire outside followed by screams, she decided that she would, not particularly wanting to be alone at the moment.

Carrie rushed across the room, her hands hurrying as they unlatched the door and opened it. Joseph stumbled inside, holding his neck and cursing.

“Close the door, close the door!” He yelled. Carrie peaked her head outside, and saw a scantily clad woman stumbling out of Joe’s apartment; his door left wide open. The woman stopped in the hall and seemed to sniff the air. After a moment her head suddenly snapped to the side, and her milky-white eyes locked with Carrie’s, and the woman moaned.

“Close the door!” Joseph rushed forward and slammed himself against the door, putting his full body weight into it. Carrie quickly dead bolted the door as soon as it was closed.

“Thanks.” Joseph stood up, pulling his hand away from his neck as he did so. His hand came away red, a nasty wound leaked from his neck, staining the expensive business suit he was wearing. The shiny watch he wore had blood smudged over the clock.

“Jesus, Joe. What happened?” Carrie hurried into the linens closet and grabbed a towel and returned the living area as Joseph answered.

“Bitch bit me.” He muttered, cringing as he wiped at his wound. That woman from his apartment did this? Carrie grimaced, knowing that Joseph always had woman coming to his place at odd hours of the day. Carrie knelt down and placed the towel firmly against his neck.

“Hold this here.” The man nodded as he stumbled into the kitchen, pulling out a chair from the table and having a seat. Never asked to have a seat, but Carrie wasn’t concerned with that now.

“Why did she bite you?” She asked, curious. Joseph shook his head as he held the towel in place.

“I don’t know… I really don’t know. One moment we’re… well, anyways, she got this crazed look in her eyes before she attacked me. I think she’s one of those crazy people from outside…” Joseph trailed off, his stomach growling. “Hey, you wouldn’t mind if I had a bite to eat, would you?” Carrie shrugged, she was actually feeling a bit hungry herself.

“Sure, why not.”

“Thanks…” Joseph trailed off again, resting his head on the table; he really didn’t look good. Carrie pulled some chicken out of the fridge and turned the stove on, pulling out a pan with some olive oil. The oil began to bubble a bit as she placed a few pieces of chicken in the pan, and began seasoning them. The sound of the chicken sizzling seemed somewhat soothing in the quiet apartment.

Carrie turned around when she heard a dull thud- it was Joseph’s head slamming against the table as he fell from his chair and collapsed to the floor. Carrie placed the kitchen knife she was using to slice chicken down on the counter as she knelt down by her neighbor, who seemed to be out cold.

“You okay?” She shook him lightly and the towel around his neck fell away, revealing his wound. A sickly colored gray surrounded the wound, his veins were purple around it. “Joe?” As if on cue, a soft moan escaped from Joseph’s lips as he sat up. He looked around the room, a dull milky color in his eyes- similar to the woman wandering around in the hall.

“Shit!” Carrie fell back against the counter as Joseph turned towards her, his icy eyes seeming to look right through her. “Joseph, j-just stay there, alright?” Carrie suddenly found herself clutching the kitchen knife as her former neighbor stood up, snarling. Had he turned into one of those crazy people?

“Joe?” She asked as he took a single step towards her, his loafers squeaked on the tiled floor. “Damn it Joseph, answer me!” Carrie was scared, scared for her life. She wanted nothing more than for Nick to burst through the door and save her- he never did. Carrie screamed as Joseph lunged at her- she ducked away just in time. He slammed against the refrigerator, leaving a bloody hand print on it.

“Stop it!” She ran forward, dodging around her neighbor. Carrie Barron hissed as her hip bumped against the table, causing a plate to fall and shatter on the ground. With the kitchen knife still clutched in her hands, she made her way to the front door. Her hand wrapped around the handle and pulled- the door didn’t budge, she’d forgotten to unlock it. Carrie’s hands shook violently as she did so, pulling the latch free. The door opened a crack when she felt Joseph’s teeth sink deep into her shoulder.

Carrie shrieked as her neighbor yanked his head back, taking a large chunk of her flesh with him. Forgetting about the door that was now slightly cracked open, she turned around and plunged the kitchen knife deep into his side. The fabric of the expensive suit ripped and the knife drew blood; Carrie twisted the blade once it was in deep. Nick had taught her to do that years ago, that way the wound can’t clot. To her surprise, it didn’t even seem to phase Joseph, and he was actually eating her flesh.

“No!” Carrie stumbled out of the way, her vision blurring as blood flowed freely down her shoulder. Droplets of blood splattered against the hardwood floor as she stumbled to the bedroom, stopping only to grab her cell phone on the kitchen counter. Joseph moaned as he kept pursuit; his loafers smeared the blood on the floor as he stumbled after her.

Her fingers smeared blood across the touch screen of the phone to the point where it wouldn’t even register her frantic dialing. Carrie cried as she threw it to the side and closed the bedroom door- just as Joseph’s arm shot out and blocked it from closing.

In a frantic attempt, she tried slamming the door shut three more times, crushing Joseph’s arm. Carrie was getting dizzy from the blood loss, and her veins were beginning to burn around the wound. By the fourth slam, Joe managed to throw the door open; it cracked against her head. In a daze, Carrie stumbled backwards, her vision doubling.

“Nick!” Her voice cracked as she screamed for her husband. Joseph grabbed her by the throat and forced her down against the bed. Carrie screamed as she felt her abdomen being torn open, Joseph moaning in a sick pleasure as her began tearing away at her.

Carrie’s eyes looked about the room slowly as the pain eventually numbed away, and her frantic slaps became weaker and weaker until she couldn’t even raise her arms anymore. Her gaze finally landed on the end table, where she’d forgotten about her pregnancy test earlier. To her horror, it read positive.

“N..ick…” Carrie’s vision slowly was consumed by darkness. She felt no more pain, and her chest stopped rising. Carrie Barron died with her eyes transfixed on the positive pregnancy test as another noise was heard, the sound of the apartment’s door creaking open.

Nick Barron moved about the apartment in a frantic dash, hoping to find his beloved wife. As he kicked the door open to the bedroom, it caused a soft breeze to flow through the room, causing the pregnancy test the flutter off the end table and underneath the bed. His eyes rested on his wife and her murderer, feasting away on her still corpse. Nick’s pupils dilated as he screamed in agony.

He would never know of his unborn child.





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John’s hand shook as he sipped on his sixth beer, relishing the warm liquid as it flowed down his throat. His stump throbbed, and his skin had paled several shades during the last few hours. A .45 Colt rested on the polished coffee table, a single bullet stood upright beside the revolver.

“You’re fine, and stop drinking already god damn it, you need to keep a good head on your shoulders.” Joe leaned against the wall with his arms crossed as he watched John down the beer before throwing the bottle into the roaring fireplace.

“You and I both know I’m not…” John tripped as he walked over to the kitchen, deciding that he would like another.

“John, you need to stop.” Joe followed him as the cries of the howlers filled the air, even over the storm that raged on.

“What’s the point?” John grabbed a beer and went to twist the top off, then realized he only had one hand. “Damn it!” With a slam against the counter, he broke the neck of the bottle open, spilling some of the contents on the ground. He drank from the broken neck.

“I can’t survive without you. We’re like a team, if one of us is gone, we both die.” John’s intoxicated eyes perked up at this as he walked out of the kitchen and plopped himself down on the couch.

“Hey Joe, where did you say you worked again?” John hefted the Colt and opened up the cylinder, twirling it around.

“I told you already, Wilmington Finance.” That’s odd.

“Really now? I worked there too.” John placed the gun on his lap and leaned forward and grabbed the single .45 cartridge, twirling it in his hands. Joe scowled as he took a seat in a large leather chair.

“That’s just a coincidence.” Joe frowned, John shook his head.

“What’s your address?”

“Excuse me?” Joe sounded surprised. John placed the cartridge in the cylinder and span it shut.

“You heard me, what’s your address?” Joe’s eyes darted around the room for a moment.

“630 Regent Drive.” John felt his blood turned cold as he grasped the gun tightly. Standing up and stumbling backwards. He bumped against the table, knocking over his beer; the remnants splashed out on the polished table.

“That’s my address Joe, my god damn address!” The colt was aimed at Joe, still sitting in the leather chair with a leg crossed over the other. The hammer was pulled back on the revolver, the click of it muted.

“John, let’s just talk this throu-” The crack of the Colt was deafening as it went off. John’s hand jumped as the gun fired, and the padding in the leather chair exploded behind Joe’s head as the bullet passed right through him. Joe turned around in the chair, looking at the smoking hole as John’s eyes began filling with tears. He really was a crazy old bastard. Joe sighed as he looked John in the eyes.

“Well old sport, looks like we have a lot to talk about.”





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Sergeant Barnes stepped over the officer’s corpses and made his way to the stairwell. His boots echoed with each step he took, reverberating throughout the control tower. Barnes grasped his M4 tightly as he reached the door, which was slightly opened. Taft had his back to him, and was sipping on a mug of coffee as he watched the undead advance onto the runway. The door creaked as he pushed it open the barrel of the rifle, and stood in the doorway with the gun aimed at the back of Taft’s head.

“My number one soldier has returned.” Taft said, placing the coffee mug down on the console. Barnes saw the corpse of another Officer in the room, his face blown off.

“You’ve lost it.” Barnes growled. Taft laughed as he shook his head.

“We’ve all lost a piece of our sanity, haven’t we Sergeant?” Barnes nose twitched, he wanted nothing more then to blow his fucking brains out right then and there- but not before he found out what happened to Cindy.

“I’m just fine, Colonel.” He sneered. “Why did you kill her?” The door creaked in its frame as a wind blew in from the broken window.

“Who?” Taft laughed. “I’ve seemed to lost track.” Barnes eyes widened as Taft suddenly sprang from his chair, a handgun aimed in his direction. Barnes jumped back into the stairwell as Taft fired off five rounds in his direction- one of them grazed his arm.

“Oh come on Sergeant, where ya goin’?” Taft laughed as he fired off another string of bullets. Barnes growled as he sprang from cover and fired the M4 on full auto into the control room. Taft ran as a stream of gunfire exploded the control equipment in a shower of sparks.

“God damn it, Taft! This ends now!” Taft slid behind the system controls and grabbed an assault rifle propped against the wall.

“This should have ended the other day when I sent your ass to your grave.” Taft roared as a barrage of gunfire destroyed the door in a shower of splinters. Barnes cried out as one of the wood chips hit him in the face, cutting under his eye. He waited until Taft stopped firing to lean his rifle through the doorway and fire off a burst of gunfire.

“Why did you kill her?” Barnes screamed as the gun jumped in his hands. “Mother fucker, why?!” The shells the ejected from the gun with each fiery explosion fell down the stairway, clattering each time they bounced off the metal steps.

“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about!” Taft screamed between gunfire, Barnes heard his gun click empty.

“Bull shit!” Rex jumped from behind cover, tossing his M4 aside and drawing Tom’s Taurus from his holster. He caught Taft in the process of reloading, and pulled the trigger. The Colonel hissed the flesh around his bicep exploded. Barnes grinned as he fired again, hitting the Colonel in the leg.

“Damn it Barnes!” The assault rifle slipped from his grasp as Barnes shot him in the gut. The Colonel’s vest tore as the .40 round ripped through it and lodged into his stomach.

“Now I’m not going to ask you again.” Barnes growled through grit teeth. “Why did you kill Cindy? She did nothing to you!” Taft’s eyes were wide with shock as Barnes kicked him in the face. The Colonel collapsed the floor, crying out in agony as Rex stepped on the gunshot wound in his leg.

“I didn’t fucking kill her, damn it!” Taft yelled as he twisted his boot on the wound.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not!” Barnes lifted his boot and aimed the Taurus at the Colonel.

“Bull.” He felt the rage and hate flowing through him as he looked into Taft’s pleading eyes. That bastard had ordered the execution of a group of children, had killed countless survivors, and murdered his own men. Yet… Barnes believed him. After everything the Colonel has done, he believed him. The gun wavered in his hands for a moment, and in that single moment Taft sprang forward with a burst of energy, pulling a knife from his boot.

Barnes jumped back as the Colonel fell against a shot up console, the knife hitting air. Taft regained his composure as Barnes dropped his gun, deciding to kill the bastard with his bare hands.

“Time for a taste of your own medicine.” He mumbled as he delivered a swift uppercut to Taft’s jaw. A crack was heard as thunder exploded outside, his jaw dislocating. Barnes jabbed Taft in the stomach twice, causing blood the squirt from his gunshot wound as he moaned in pain and stumbled back, now in front of the broken window. The Colonel’s pupils widened as Barnes screamed and kicked him hard in the stomach.

Colonel Taft cried out as he flew back and out the window. Barnes rushed over and saw him plummet to the ground- and into the hands of the undead. Taft screamed as a howler grabbed an arm and sunk its teeth into it. Another grabbed Taft’s leg, and Barnes soon found himself watch a tug of war of sorts. Taft continued screaming until his arm and leg were pulled from the socket and torn off in a bloody mess. The two howlers continued feasting on the limbs as shamblers leaned down and finished the job. A bite to Taft’s throat ceased his screaming, and soon only the sounds of flesh being torn from bone was heard.

“Asshole.” Barnes spat, looking away in disgust. Rex jumped as he saw Williams entering the room, sweeping it with a shotgun.

“Wow.” Tom said as he bent over and picked up his Taurus, placing it in his holster before he walked over to the window and looked down. “Christ.” One of the shamblers was in the process of twisting the Colonel’s head off. Tom looked away and back at Barnes, who had remained quiet.

“Glad you’re still among the living.” Barnes chuckled.

“Couldn’t have done it without you.” Tom’s face went grim as the screams of the dying filled the air, and the gunfire became more sporadic.

“We’re running out of time… I need to find LaRouge, go get Kath. She’s locked up in the hangar. We’ll meet up at the choppers.” Barnes nodded and he picked up Taft’s assault rifle and magazine that was never loaded. He reloaded the gun himself.

“Will do, Tommy boy.”

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Nick Barron cursed as the Humvee’s tire popped; the truck slightly tilted as the air hissed from the tire. Plonsky was starting to get restless, and Nick could tell. Each shot he took seemed to be more off than the last. Jumping up from cover, Nick fired off three shots at the tower, hoping one of them would hit the amateur. Each shot he took caused his aim to alter slightly; Nick couldn’t concentrate with his wound.

Plonsky ducked back as he pulled the bolt on his rifle, chambering another round in.

“Ah hell.” Nick ducked back down as the military vehicle’s window cracked. The windows were bulletproof, so it didn’t quite shatter. Nick had been keeping track of how many shots Plonsky had fired. He knew that the M24 only held five rounds, and Plonsky had fired four so far.

“Come on, one more you bastard.” Nick reached into his vest and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. The wind howled as he pulled one out and cupped his hands around it, keeping it dry from the rain. He fished a lighter from his vest and lit up, inhaling the cool smoke.

“Show yourself, coward!” Plonsky yelled from his watch tower. Nick blew out a cloud of smoke as he loaded a new magazine into his rifle. Nick suddenly had a better idea of how to weed the weasel out. Laying down on his stomach, he crawled a bit underneath the Humvee and propped up his rifle, aiming it at the watch tower. He could tell it was crudely built, mainly out of ladders and 2X4s of wood.

Aiming the rifle at one of the supports, Nick unleashed a barrage of gunfire. Each shot splintered against the wooden beam, cracking it. Nick’s shoulder absorbed each blast from the rifle as he pulled the trigger each second, causing the support to crack. The last blast from the M21 caused the support to finally give in, and the tower began the slowly tilt forward.

Plonsky screamed as Nick reloaded the rifle, and the support cracked in half and the tower came crashing down. The tower was reduced to a pile of rubble as the sniper flew from his post, crashing down and rolling in the dirt. Nick hissed in pain as he stood up, leaning on his good leg as he hefted his rifle and looked through the scope. Droplets of rain had formed on the end of the scope, obscuring the crosshairs. Nick didn’t bother with it- he didn’t have time.

Plonsky ran towards him with rage in his eyes, his sidearm in his hands as he screamed. Time slowed down as Nick took in a deep breath and Plonsky fired just as thunder lit up the sky. The shot went wild, but Nick could hear it zoom by his head. He blinked, exhaling his breath as he lined up Plonsky’s head in the crosshairs.

Plonsky fired again, this time the round was so close to his face he could feel the heat as it zoomed by his cheek. Nick’s muscles tightened up as Plonsky fired again just as he fired the rifle. Plonsky’s head snapped back, a stream of blood shooting out of the exit would. Plonsky collapsed in the dirt, his body spasmed as chunks of brain matter leaked from the back of his head.

“Gotcha.”





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Barnes ran through the hangar, dodging around the corpses that lined the area. His boots skidded as he stopped outside Katharina’s room and pounded on the door.

“Kath! Open up, it’s Barnes!” He heard movement inside, but couldn’t see through the window. Something was placed over it.

“Where’s Tom?” Her muffled voice said on the other side. Damn it, he didn’t have time for this!

“He sent me for you! Listen, open up, we need to move now! We’re running out of time!” Barnes waited a few heartbeats until he heard a the click of the door unlocking, followed by  screeching sound as Katharina pushed something out of the way. Barnes opened the door and stepped into the office, watching as she stepped away from the desk.

“Good thinking.” Barnes said as she walked over. He glanced over at where the desk used to be- and his blood went cold.

“What the…” A large blood stain was in the middle of the floor, a stain that wasn’t there before Katharina took up residence in the room. Barnes mind raced as he tried to comprehend, reason with himself. Taft didn’t even know what he was talking about when he brought up Cindy…

It suddenly all made sense. Of course Taft didn’t kill Cindy, hell he didn’t even know her. Katharina killed her, probably to get back at him for slapping her the day they met. Barnes head raced when he realized he just killed his Colonel on a false accusation.

“You killed her.” Barnes breathed as he slowly looked over at Katharina. The girl’s eyes were wide with fear as she slowly backed away, bringing her hands up.

“Listen, just wait-” Barnes ignored her as he slowly closed the door behind him and locked it.