Joseph Villers's Story

Joseph Villiers was standing in the First floor of a cheap looking night club called Ollies, the sort of place he wouldn’t caught dead in back in London was now keeping him alive. He glanced at himself in the mirror behind the bar and wiped a glob of vomit from his chin, he’d just returned from the bathroom after a bout of nausea. The doctors had said this was to be expected and it wasn’t yet debilitating but that day would come. He popped a Xanax followed by a pain killer and hoped that that was his sickness dealt with for the day.

The club was a four story building consisting of a Basement, Ground, First and second floors. The basement was a storage area containing bottles of drink and packets of nuts. The ground floor was the reception area and Joseph had only been there once when he first arrived. It was too close to the streets so he’d barricaded the doors as best he could. He spent most of his time on the First floor which was a large dance floor that didn’t restrict movement unlike the second floor which was a collection of eight VIP rooms for hosting small parties. The rooms weren’t large but were designed to give an air of exclusivity. The doors operated on a key card system to prevent undesirables getting in that Joe though was sort of cool and each had a touch screen that could be used to send drink orders to the bar without have to leave the pod. Additionally the pods were sound proofed so one party listening to Ricky Martin wouldn’t be upset by the Skrillex crowd next door. Joe had had seen the same set up in other clubs.

The club had three fire escapes that brought you directly to the street level as well as a refurbished service elevator that ran from the ground floor to all other floors for use by staff. Of course there was no staff these days.

Just Joe.

Joe’s dance floor home contained his meagre supplies which consisted mainly of spare clothing, painkillers and whatever anti-nausea meds he could get his hands on. His arsenal was a piece of bent piping and a .357 revolver with five rounds left. Originally he had twelve but he spent a couple learning how to work the thing and a few more plugging an infected, the gun didn’t quite get the job done and that’s why the pipe was bent.

The only real problem Joe had was food and he’d been living on packets of nuts which at least gave him some protein but the taste was starting to drive him mad. Over the last few days the infected had been too active in the area to let him go on a supply run. He’d hoped that they were just passing through and would move on but that didn’t seem to be happening. New York had a population of over Eight million people most of whom were infected so the crowds thinning out was something of a long shot.

Joe pulled on his pea coat and made his way up the stairs to the second floor and onto the roof of Ollie’s Nightclub. As he climbed he wondered not for the first who the hell Ollie was. The sight that greeted him on the roof was not a happy one. Infected were all over the street if anything it looked like their numbers had increased and he could hear screaming in the distance.

“Bollocks.” Joseph whispered.

He really wanted the streets to be clear so he could at least get some supplies, he’d even settle for that hideous American Invention, Beef Jerky anything but peanuts. The infected seemed to be interested in two buildings in particular. On one stood two men and in the other was what looked like a child. Some infected were also milling around outside a diner although it appeared to be empty.

Joseph swore again. The ruckus cause but the others up the street had distracted the infected enough for them to thin out around his building not enough but more than it had been. The further north you went up the street the thicker the crowds got and he was sure the noise was attracting people from the south. He was as stuck as they were and he thought about just going back down stairs and letting them attract as many infected as possible then he could make his break at night fall.

H knew he wouldn’t though he couldn’t leave a kid alone at the mercy of those things. If he ever got home he’d have to look Penny in eyes and he didn’t think he could that with a dead kid on his conscience.

Thankfully Joe had been working on a plan. He’d noticed the infected seemed to be attracted to sound and ecided if he was quick he could use this to his advantage. His plan was to create a distraction in the club car park then run over the club using the fire escapes to the opposite side. While the infected were checking out the car park he’d run away as fast as his legs could pump. It wasn’t a great plan but it was better than nothing, the distraction had taken some thinking but he figured he’d worked one out.
He was going to blow up some cars.

He’d tore up one of his shirts up into strips and had the idea of getting creative with car petrol tanks. The car park was somewhat protected by a chain link fence that would give him a chance to work but there had just been too many infected and he be spotted as soon as he entered the car park. Now though the infected were more interested in what was happening to the north which gave him an opening.

The strips were in the pocket of his Pea cot and he already had the lighter so there was really nothing stopping him. He approached the fire escape and slowly made his way down to car park below. It was deserted which was a stroke of luck he knew some of the infected could climb but obviously none had made their way into the car park. He had five strips which meant he could turn five cars into flaming infernos.

He crouched low and moved quickly and as silently as possible. He got to the first row of cars and started twisting off petrol caps. The first two caps needed keys so they were spared but soon he had found five that he could force the cloth into while also leaving a long tail as a fuse. It had occurred to him that stealing a car and driving away might be a good idea but New York was gridlock on the best of days, during a zombie outbreak he’d be lucky to make a quarter of a mile before something blocked his path.

With his strips dangling in petrol tanks Joe produced a book of matches he’d taken from the club and lit the rags that were stuffed in the car’s fuel tanks as he made his way back to the fire escape. The long strips would give him a few seconds to get clear. Once he’d lit the last one he got to his feet and ran. Noise wasn’t an issue now, getting to safety was.

He clambered up the fire escape as the first two went off followed by the third he stole a glance at the blazing twisted metal and then continued upwards. The fourth and fifth didn’t erupt until he was on the roof and making his way toward the door on the roof. He thought about trying one of the other fire escapes and running but he knew that was foolish. The infected were coming toward him now and there was no way he’d get through them. He didn’t bother looking up the street toward the people in the buildings as he was more focused on getting back inside. Whether or not the two men were able to save the child was up to them, he’d done his best to distract the infected.

Joe made his way down the stairs and back to the first floor where he made a beeline for the bar and got a plastic bottle filled with water and a packet of nuts.

He munched glumly before checking the doors again.

Bang. The explosion flung Scarlett onto her back. The alcohol had kicked in by this time and the explosion merely startled her rather than sent her into a full blown pains attack. Faint colors swirled at the edges of her vision but the vodka had well and truly kicked in.

Scarlett scrambled for her bow and took another swig of vodka. She wasn't listening to Mitch as he talked but she saw him and Jaime moving toward a ladder. Heights did not frighten her and she slid deathly down the ladder after Mitch. Scarlet dropped from a few rungs up and landed next to Mitch. Scarlett pulled the bow from behind her back and pulled back the string warily. The steely feel felt familiar and comfortable in her delicate hands. Warmth spread through her hands an up her arms. She pulled a arrow from the sheath on her back and placed it between her sure fingers. Scarlett cleared her throat.

"I'm rusty, but with some practice I could be competent." She gestured with the arrow. The will to live was hot and slivered through her veins filling her body with an unfamiliar warmth. She took another swig from the vodka and placed the flask into her coat pocket. Scarlett did not know where they were going but she longed to feel useful.

Five had been too many, he knew that now but at least it had worked the infected were definitely interested in his building now. He just hoped that left the streets clear enough up the block for those guys to rescue the kid.

He’d been hoping they could come pick him up too but a quick check of the clubs remaining CCTV cameras told him that was impossible. The place was completely surrounded as the weight of the infected pushing against the chain link fence had brought it down. On one hand this made him happy as it meant he been successful in causing the distraction but on the other he’d brought a few more to his doorstep than he’d counted on. He took a double take at the monitor when he saw infected on all fours that suddenly jumped out of shot and onto what he assumed was the fire escape.

“Pouncers.” He said remembering what a cop he had known had called them once.

He heard dull thuds from above and realised it was the pouncers throwing themselves against the door. They’d eventually break it down and then only the internal doors, which wouldn’t last long, would be his only protection.

He swore a lot as he collected his belongings and slung them into a rucksack making sure he got all the pain killers and ammo. He’d make a last stand but it wouldn’t be here as he wanted to take a few of the things with him.

#

He’d seen a movie once called 300 about how Gerard Butler’s Abdominals defeated a bunch of Egyptians or something. He couldn’t really remember much about the film except that the Abs’ plan was to funnel the attackers into a narrow valley so their numerical superiority wouldn’t be an issue. Joe figured what worked for the Abs could work for him. The only place he could think that would provide both range and the funnelling effect he was looking for was the basement.

It was dark and cold down there as well was pretty enclosed and Joe could feel himself becoming claustrophobic in the confines. The Basement consisted of stairs leading down to a long corridor which terminated when it reached the storeroom. It was in this corridor that Joe decided he’d make his stand. He checked the storage area for anything that might help him but found nothing but crates of booze, a Stanley knife and a crowbar. All useless.

He aimed his weapon at the door and began to wait.

The claustrophobia wasn’t abating and Joe knew the only way to deal with it was to focus on a task. He decided it would be wise to stack crates of booze in front of the door which might give him a couple of free shots while the infected tried to get in. He started to put the crates into position.

He had just started pushing the fourth crate when he noticed the manhole cover underneath it. He immediately abandoned any notion of a last stand and started scrabbling at the cover. He then regained his composure and realised there was no way he was lifting it like that.

He was standing in a storage room which meant there should be tools he started to trash the place in an effort to find something when he remembered the crowbar. He assaulted the cover with the satisfyingly heavy crowbar and was able to pry it up an inch but it was much heavier than he expected. He’d always thought in a situation like this people were supposed to get a burst of adrenaline induced strength like those stories about Mums who lift cars off their kids or whatever. Still the inch was enough, he braced himself against the wall and pushed the cover with his feet.
He could hear the infected upstairs now they were moving fast he’d only been in the basement for about fifteen minutes and it would only be a matter of time before they got to him.

“Move you bugger.” He pleaded with cover as he gave it one last heave that pushed it clear of the opening. He grabbed the crowbar then without wasting a moment started down the slippery ladder and into the sewer.

A small trickle of really dirty looking water ran through the middle of the concrete tunnel that was flanked by two walk ways that were connected by occasional bridges. Joe gaged at the smell and wondered briefly if the gas could kill him down there. Didn’t matter now, he was committed now but he covered his mouth and nose with a spare tee shirt he had in his pack, if anything to help with the smell. He looked up at the open man hole and figured the infected couldn’t be too far behind.

He started to jog although he had no idea what direction he was going in.