basement. With no windows and no electricity, it was a tomb. It was absolute and complete blackness. I turned on the feeble little flashlight. It sliced temporary cones of reality into an otherwise impenetrable void.
Did I mention it was dark?
I walked among metal shelves stacked with office supplies, old computer parts, and boxes of financial records. I could vaguely hear the sounds of activity above me, my fellow survivors dragging things about as they arranged the offices into a more comfortable refuge.
The basement was huge. The entire factory must be nearly a million square feet, though most of that was the factory floor and warehouse. The office area was probably less than a couple hundred thousand square feed counting the basement, but that meant the basement must be nearly 50,000 square feet all on its own, with row after row of shelves to examine. I began to worry that my flashlight would not last long enough.
I worked my way down one row and up another, trying not to spend too much time looking at every little thing that caught my interest. Acetylene bottles, thats what I needed to focus on.
Most of the basement was open space interrupted only by support columns and shelves, but one corner of it was walled off to create an equipment room of some kind. Pipes and conduits snaked around the basement ceiling and converged on this room. It was built of cinder blocks. A sturdy metal fire door emblazoned with warning labels led into it. It was probably a furnace room, but it might also be some sort hazardous materials storage. I was curious, so I decided to check it out before swinging back down the next row of shelves.
I pulled the heavy door open and shined the flashlight in. The center of the room was filled with a large metal shape, a hot water boiler if I had to guess. The walls held some electrical breaker panels and few shelves holding various sized cardboard boxes. I stepped in to get a closer look. An unpleasant odor drifted toward me.
Then I heard it. Movement. A breathy hissing sound. I spun around, and my flashlight caught a human shape as it stumbled out from behind the boiler.
It was dressed in a security guard's uniform, still wearing the hat even. One sleeve of its shirt was torn up as was the flesh of its arm. Its throat was also chewed up, so much so that it evidently could only manage a raspy hiss. The skin looked nearly white in the pale LED light. The eyes shown back like yellow embers. It lurched toward me, arms reaching out. I ran out the door and tried to slam it shut behind me, but the creature slammed against the door and pushed through before I could manage it. I ran down a line of shelves, screaming. I could hear it pursuing. I rounded a corner and ran to where the stairwell should be. There was only a brick wall. I had gotten turned around somehow. The monster was closing on me again. I ran down another row of shelves, frantically trying to find the stairwell. I stopped for a moment to get my bearings, swinging the flashlight around madly to make sure the creature wasn't near.
Suddenly an arm reached through the nearby shelves and grabbed me. I yelled and pulled away. It had me by the wrist and wouldn't let go. I pulled, and the shelf it was reaching through threatened to topple over on top of me. I twisted my arm around and got loose, and continued running. A wall. If I followed it, I must eventually find a stairwell. There are two stairwells, and they are both near outside walls. I ran, my fingers brushing the cinder blocks. I waved the light in front of me, looking for the stairwell door. I came to the corner.
It was a dead-end. Shelves ran parallel to the wall all they way to the adjacent wall. I turned to double back just in time to see the monster round a corner and enter my blind alley. I turned to the shelf and threw myself against it. If I could knock it over, I could make an escape route. But it was loaded with heavy machine parts of some sort and wouldn't budge. I would have to climb it. No time, the thing was almost on me. I grabbed the first heavy object my hands landed on and swung it at the creature's head. There was a sickening crunch as it fell backwards. I started to climb the shelves, but the zombie grabbed my leg and dragged me down. I lost my balance. My head hit the concrete wall. The flashlight went spinning away. A bit of light leaked out from under the shelf where it had had stopped. I sprawled on the floor in the corner of two concrete walls while a dimly lit shape pulled itself up from the floor. It loomed over me. I could sense it more than see it. I could feel the wind of its raspy hiss. My hands found my makeshift club on the floor next to me. I tried to lift it. Tried to defend myself. I was exhausted. My head was ringing.
Then I could see it. A dark silhouette. An ink sketch of an undead. Concrete walls and shelves stretching away behind it. It reached for me...
Its head exploded.
My ears rung. I was covered in a sticky mess. The air smelled of it. It also smelled of gunpowder. I saw lights. Several figures with flashlights. Milo walked up holding a shotgun.
“You OK Isaac?” He played his flashlight over me. I wasn't sure. Was I OK? I looked down, and finally saw what I had used for a club.
It was a pressurized tank of acetylene.
May 4 - The Factory, Oklahoma
Milo and a young woman named Tilly helped me out of the basement to a shower in the locker rooms just off the factory floor. There was no hot water, but I must have been in shock, because I didn't seem to care. I soaped up and rinsed off repeatedly, probably using up most of the water that had been pumped into the rooftop tank this morning. I also didn't think about Tilly being one of the people holding a flashlight while I showered. Maybe I'll feel embarrassed later. My clothes, covered in zombie brains and blood, were disposed of. I didn't ask what was done with them. Milo brought me a change of clothes, slightly too big for me, but at least clean.
After getting cleaned up, I returned to the office area where Miguel ushered me into a conference room. He had me strip off most of my new clothes and hop up on the conference table where he looked over every inch of my body, checking for bites or scratches. He paid special attention to the growing bruise on my head, a result of slamming it into the wall when I fell from the shelf.
“Your lucky you didn't break the skin there,” he declared, “otherwise that shotgun blast might have sprayed zombie goo all over an open wound.”
“I'll live?” I asked, still in too much shock to really think through the possible consequences of the attack.
“Probably, but come see me right away if you start feeling sick.”
I remembered the woman from the bus quarantine. Her pale body twitching. Her glassy eyes staring at me. I remembered Miguel pulling an ax from her head.
“I will.” I whispered.
“Don't worry too much. It really does have to get through a break in the skin. It was a good thing you were on the ground actually, otherwise that blast might have driven a bone chip right into you.”
I shuddered, and just nodded my head. He was just telling me to get dressed when Kalee barged into the room. She froze as soon as she saw me sitting there in my boxer shorts, turned bright red, then stammered, “Oh god, I'm sorry... I was told... Jack said you were in here but he didn't...”
“Don't worry about it,” I reassured her as I jumped down and started getting dressed, “I'll be here all week, with a matinée performance on Saturday.” I tried to wink at her, but I think it came off looking like a grimace. God my head hurt.
“You OK?” she asked, then turned to Miguel, “He's OK?”
“Yeah, except for that lump the size of Idaho growing on his head, he is fine. We'll need to watch him for signs of concussion, but I think the risk is low. We need to make sure he doesn't sleep tonight. You can help with that?”
She nodded, then turned to me to say something. She stopped, her mouth half open, the skin around her eyes wrinkled, then she turned and ran out of the room.
“What was that about?” I asked Miguel.
He just shook his head and answered, “If you are looking for someone to explain women to you, you are asking the wrong guy.”
May 5 - The Factory, Oklahoma
It must be something like 2 in the morning now. I played hours of chess with Jack and lost every game. I think that lump on my head is from my brains trying to burrow out of my skull. It sure feels like that anyway. Kalee is here now. She hasn't been very talkative though. I think maybe she's mad at me about something, but I haven't found the courage to ask what. I've been trying to write in this damn journal just to keep myself occupied, but I keep finding myself just staring at the page for long stretches. I've resorted to doodling. Seems a silly waste of my journal paper, but there must be more notebooks among the office supplies.
May 5 - The Factory, Oklahoma
I was sitting here staring at my notebook when Kalee reached over and shook me, only Kalee seems to have turned into Milo. I don't remember him taking her place. God I'm tired. I can see the sun coming up. Milo says Miguel will check me out again in a few hours, and then it's OK for me to sleep if I want to. Want to? I don't think I have a choice at this point. Since I'm not allowed to sleep yet, I think I'll walk around for a while.
May 7 - The Factory, Oklahoma
I woke up to balloons. Well not balloons exactly, they looked more like white kitchen-sized garbage bags, but they had smiley faces and 'get well soon' messages