So, here's another chapter from the untitled zombie novel I was working on.

Unlike the first one I posted, this one is far more action packed, and was one where I actually did research so the bit on the fire fighters sounded true to life.

This particular chapter has a LOT of foul language, so you've been warned.

And, yes, there is a tribute to a movie that most people thought was terrible, but I happened to like. It was goofy, but I found it a lot of fun, you know the type, turn your brain off and enjoy the ride.

Trust me, you'll know when you read it. I hope it gets at least a few laughs.

And yes, again, I was too lazy to do a proper job of editing, so there WILL be grammar mistakes and technical issues.

Chris

            Tendrils of black smoke slithered like boneless snakes into the early morning azure coloured march sky. A few small tufts of white cloud rode lazily across the heavens, trekking steadily east. 

                Flames licked hungrily at the shingles covering the two story house. The entire second floor of the structure was fully engulfed, whereas the first floor was relatively clear of flame, although thick, black smoke poured from the windows that had been broken as the Calgary Fire Fighters did battle with the out of control conflagration.

                “Davis, Smith, get more water on the east wall! An aged man with a paunch straining against his firefighter’s jacket yelled into is microphone. He was dressed in filthy fire fighting uniform, and his thinning grey hair was plastered to his head with sweat, despite the cool air blowing towards the blaze.

                Two other firefighters pulled the hose they were using and approached the house. They directed the stream of water onto the wall of the neighbouring home.

                Stone, a huge blond man in an equally filthy uniform, ran towards the single story home to the west of the smouldering house. The call had come in only twenty minutes before and by the time they had gotten to the scene, the fire was already well on it’s way to consuming the entire building. While Fire Chief Rudolph spoke to the neighbours, the two crews that had shown up for the blaze worked at a feverish pace, preparing to do battle with the primal element.

                Word came quickly that no one was supposed to be home, so the fire chief decided to simply go on the defence. He instructed the crews to douse the neighbouring buildings to prevent them from catching fire as well.

                So far, they were able to prevent the inferno from spreading.

Eric Stone, an eight year veteran of the Calgary Fire department, took a few seconds to pull his eyes from the single story house they were drenching in water. His Hydrant man, Lucrois, gripped the hose in both hands and held it steady as Eric directed the stream, dousing sparks as they jumped merrily from the inferno, hoping to spread death and destruction.  

Even though he didn’t want to think about it, Eric Stone knew there was the possibility of Risen in the home, even though the neighbours told Chief Rudolph that the family hadn’t been home for over a week.. Anyone killed by the flames or the smoke would, as surely as the sun does, rise and come after the living.

Eric was soul deep tired, having barely had any time to sleep in the past forty eight hours. Ever since the rising had begun, that the rumours had proven to be more than just the crazed ramblings of terrified citizens, he had been on duty.

Things were only getting worse by the hour. There had been more fires in the past two days than he had in the past two years. He listened as Chief Rudolph’s voice echoed loudly in his ear. “Stone, Lucrois, Davis, Smith, how’s it coming?”

A short burst of static and then he heard Smith’s voice. “It seems we’ve got it under control. Hopefully the fire will burn out soon.”

“Good.” Chief Rudolph answered. “Stone, Lucrois, keep your eyes on your target, remember, one ember...”

“Roger.” Eric snapped. He knew the drill, and even though he’d heard the same instructions a hundred times, in normal times he wouldn’t have given it a second though, but today, everything was getting on his nerves.

Eric closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He couldn’t remember feeling as tired as he was at that exact moment. It was almost like someone had placed a blanket over his senses. He could feel the exhaustion deep in his chest every time he breathed, and his eyelids felt as if they were made of sandpaper. He didn’t know how much longer he would be able to function.

The large man turned his head around and scanned the small crowd that had gathered behind him and Lucrois. There were two police cruisers with their lights flashing a dozen or so meters down the street, blocking the traffic in both directions. The large red pumper truck stood next to the fire hydrant. Several more firefighters were moving over and around the fire engine, making sure that everything was running smoothly and that the water pressure to the hoses wasn’t impaired.

Two uniformed officers were standing a dozen or so meters behind him and were keeping the curious onlookers at bay, while two more officers stood by, one at each of the patrol cars, with shotguns at the ready.

A young man dressed in a water soaked fire fighters uniform emerged from the side of the house. As he jogged past Stone, he pulled his mask off his head and let it drop behind him. “Chief, I just checked the backyard, it’s clear.”

The chief nodded. “Hold on a second…” He paused and lifted his hand to shade his eyes. His face twisted into a frown as he lifted the radio to his lips. “Damned, it looks like someone might have been inside the house after all. Stone, Smith, eyes on the second floor, front window to the far left.”

Following the command, Eric held the hose steady and glanced up at the indicated window. “There!” Stone pointed with one hand. He was certain he had just spotted movement. A shadow had passed the curtains, silhouetted by the light of the fire, visible even in the bright sunlight. “Did you see that Lucrois?”

“No, what did you see?”

Stone stared at the window. He was certain that he had seen movement. “Could be my imagination, I’m so damned tired that I’m starting to see things.” He really hated when he started to second guess himself. People died when that happened in his line of work.

Keying the mike, he spoke into his headset. “Do we send anyone in? Hell, can anyone get to the second floor?”

“Negative,” came Chief Rudolph’s tired reply. “We’ve lost too many good men over the past few days. It’s probably dead anyhow, and we know what happens then. We’ll let the police deal with anything that comes out. The Best thing we can do is to try and prevent the fire from spreading to the neighbouring homes.”

It pained Stone, knowing that there wasn’t anything they could do. He joined the fire department to save lives, and every single life lost in the line of duty was painful to him.

Minutes passed while the police officers kept watch and prevented anyone from approaching, Stone and Lucrois worked in tandem Nozzle and Hydrant man, a well oiled machine, fighting to ensure that the blaze didn’t spread.

Like a dying beast, the house emitted a loud, cracking groan. Two thirds of the roof collapsed into the second floor, sending a shower of ash, sparks and burning embers into the air. Both Stone and Lucrois cursed as several landed on the soaked roof of the neighbouring house, the home they were fighting to protect.

As they fought valiantly to prevent the fire from spreading, the upper floor of the engulfed home collapsed completely, the burning timbers and roofing material started a chain reaction and the already weakened flooring above the living room exploded downward in a hail of charred burning wood, and a torrent of superheated flame.

Sweat poured down Stone’s back as he and Lucrois adjusted the hose second by second to douse embers and sparks that managed to survive the water slicked roofing and siding. Time seemed to stand still for the fire-fighters as they worked against the flames and their own exhaustion to save the neighbouring homes.

“What the fuck?” Smith’s curse laden voice burst into Stone’s ear. Despite himself, Stone pulled his eyes off his target and looked at the wreckage before them.

A blackened and blistered form pushed its way out of the burning rubble. It was impossible to tell the gender of the corpse, as all that was left was a mass of flame consumed flesh. The entire body was covered in deep cracks, where the cooked flesh had separated. Despite the horrific damage to the body, it pushed itself slowly out of the ruins. The zombie attempted to stand on its legs, but one snapped cleanly off at the hip, and the creature fell to the floor.

A chorus of horrified screams erupted from the crowd behind the firefighters at the sight they saw through the window. The police officers did their best to get the crowd to turn away from what was trying to pull its way from the ruined house.

“This can’t be fucking happening,” Stone swore. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Lucrois drop the hose and double over, one hand going to his stomach, the other to his mouth. A stream of bile flew from between the other firefighter’s fingers as he became violently ill.

It took a supreme effort of will for Stone to push back his own relenting terror at the sight of the fire ravaged cadaver that was still crawling across the debris, his eyeless, hairless skull leering hungrily at them from the smoke and ash.

Without Lucrois help, controlling the hose was all that much more difficult. He could do it, considering his build, but it wasn’t an easy task by any stretch of the imagination. Fighting the pressure, he adjusted the aim of the fire hose and turned the stream of water on the zombie.

The stream of pressurized water hit the zombie full in the chest. The already cooked flesh and muscle sloughed away from the zombies torso like tissue paper, exposing the still steaming internal organs. The pressure was too much for the already badly damaged creature and the spine split like a rotten piece of cordwood.

The upper torso of the zombie was knocked forwards and slid out of sight, while the hip and remaining legs simply ceased to move and almost literally melted into the debris.

“Lucrois, snap out of it!” Stone snapped out through gritted teeth. Oh, how he wanted to join the other man on the ground, how he wanted to lose himself in the horror he was feeling. Just to let go for a minute.

Simply put, Stone was too dedicated to his job and had to push his feelings aside. He couldn’t afford to relax until he was back at the fire hall. “Come on, man, I need your help here!”

Lucrois struggled with his nausea and rubbed his gloved hands on his pant legs. He straightened out and spit several times as he grabbed hold of the hose once again.

With some of the pressure taken off, Stone was able to bring the hose under his full control once again. One of the officers, armed with a shotgun stepped up next to him. He nodded and leaned in, shouting: “When I say now, I want you to turn the hose off.”

               
Without waiting for Stone’s reply, the officer approached the building carefully. Stone made sure that he kept the stream of water away from the officer and concentrated the spray into the pile of still burning debris.

               
Stone knew that if this was a horror movie, it was just as the police officer approached the burning house that the monster would make its appearance and would proceed to kill the hapless peace-officer in a most brutal and gory way possible.

               
Much to his shock, the burning zombie did its best to comply with the cliché.

               
One cooked hand, the fingers burned down to mere stubs, grabbed hold of the windowsill and the zombie pulled itself slowly up. As it’s ruined near fleshless skull cleared the sill, the empty eye sockets locked onto the police officer. Without breaking his stride, the officer raised the shotgun, took aim, and blew the smouldering skull to pieces.

               
The officer then turned around and walked back towards the cruisers, his face perfectly neutral and acting as if he had merely delivered a summons, instead of putting a tortured soul to rest. He paused long enough to look at Stone. “Let’s get this finished so we can all go home, ok?”

               
Eric Stone nodded numbly. “Easy for you to say,” He growled under his breath.

               
With the officers helping to keep the crowd at bay and to ensure that there were no other zombies around to wreak chaos, Stone and the rest of the fire-fighters waited until blaze had finished consuming the home. The worst of the danger to the surrounding homes having passed, the two crews worked together to soak the rubble as best they could.

Several hours passed before the fire chief finally gave the order to shut down and pack up. They did their best and the fate of the neighbouring homes was now in god’s hands. Eric did something he rarely ever did… he prayed that the fire was doused once and for all. But, even if the fire re-ignited and managed spread to the neighbouring houses, Eric was sure that there wouldn’t be any more deaths. He noticed through his exhaustion that the families on either side were packing their vehicles and were leaving.

               
He wished that he could follow them, leave the horror and the exhaustion behind, but he had his duty and he would stay at his post for as long as lives were at stake, and for as long as he was needed. Stone worked without thinking, going through moves born from years of practice and repetition as he, Lucrois and the rest of the crew gathered up their equipment and put it away.

Stone let the exhaustion take control. He shut his mind down and put his body into auto-pilot as he climbed into the cab of the fire-engine. Once he had his seat belt on, he took off his hat and dropped it to the floor of the cab as he leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He barely even heard the gunshots and the screams as the Police officers dispatched several zombies that had been attracted by the crowds.

               
Eric woke up after what only seemed to be a few minutes time and looked blearily around as Lucrois shook his shoulder. “Hey Stone, were back at number 1.”

               
He rubbed his eyes, and grabbed his helmet. Lucrois had already opened the door and jumped down to the pavement, clearing the way for Eric. Climbing down, he half fell to the street but managed to stop himself. “Where’s the next call?” He rasped out.

               
Lucrois, looking half past dead, shook his head. “We’re on downtime. We can’t function in the shape we’re in.”

               
Eric took a deep breath and straightened up. “I’ll be fine, there are still lives at stake here, we need to be out in the field.”  Although Eric had trouble relating to most people, who found him rather hard and cold at times, he took his job seriously.

               
Sometimes too seriously, the thought came unbidden into his mind, followed by the image of his ex-wife’s face. Maybe if he had only spent more time and tried to be more understanding…

               
He shook his head and cleared the thought from his mind. “You’re right. We need rest.” It took a lot for him to concede the point without arguing further.

               
One by one he and the rest of the fire-crew stumbled into the building. He paused at the door for a moment, just noticing that the police had set up a barricade in front of the fire-hall, partially blocking the left lane of 1^st Street.

               
Like a siren’s call, the bunk room of Fire Station 1 called to him, blocking out all other desires. Food, drink, sex, nothing mattered to Stone except a few hours sleep. Without waiting for the others, he made his way straight to the small dorm that had been set up and claimed the first empty bed he found. Stone didn’t even bother removing his boots, he just dropped his helmet and shrugged out of his heavy jacket and the last thing he remembered was how clean the pillow smelled as he let blissful sleep take away all the pain and worry in the world.

 

***

 

Flashes of grinning, flame wreathed skulls wrenched him from his near-dreamless state. With a start, Eric pushed himself off the cot and fell heavily to the floor. He swore as he levered himself up so that he was sitting and looked around him, his bleary eyes making out the forms of his fellow fire-fighters in various states of dress, sleeping in the now crowded room.

               
It took his sleep fogged mind several seconds to realize that the room was practically dark. He glanced at the clock set above the door and noticed that it was just a little after 7. “Well, at least I got a few hours sleep,” He mumbled to himself as he finally managed to stand up. His whole body ached from the physical exertion of the past few days and he desperately needed a shower. He looked around the room and nodded with some satisfaction that things must finally be getting under control, as his entire crew was still with him, all of them getting the rest that they so desperately needed

               
He half walked, half stumbled out of the bunk room and made his way to the showers. He passed several equally tired looking and harried looking men and women, who nodded as they passed.

               
Time passed in a blur as he showered, dried off and then went downstairs to the main hall. The stations two trucks were abuzz with activity. Equipment was being swapped out, the vehicles were being cleaned and inspected and prepped for yet another run into the chaos that had overtaken the city.

               
Stone was a little surprised when the Fire Chief approached him and handed him a steaming mug of coffee. “Feeling a little better?” He asked as the chief took a sip from his own mug.

               
“A little, I need about another forty eight hours un-interrupted rest though.” Stone replied as he gingerly sipped at his own coffee. It was strong, and bitter, just the way he liked it. “How’re things out there?” He asked nodding towards the large double doors leading to the street.

               
“Hell on Earth, Stone, hell on Earth.  There are too many fires for us to keep up to, so all we can do is head after the bigger ones. Half the crews are down from exhaustion, and we’ve been losing people left and right to the zombies. The cops can barely keep up with the rising.”

               
Stone bit out a curse. “I figured with how quite things were in here maybe it was under control.”

               
The Fire Chief gave a bitter laugh. “Quiet? It’s louder than the stampede right now out there. You’re just so damn tired you couldn’t hear anything.”

               
After the Chief mentioned it, Stone realized that he could hear the muffled blaring of sirens, screams, the rush of traffic and even what sounded like gunfire. Stone grimaced and took another sip of the coffee. “Is there any food in the fridge?”

               
“Yeah, some of the boys brought in a mess of sandwiches and other things that their families made. Grab whatever you need.”

               
Stone made his way over to the small mess hall inside the fire station. There were half a dozen men already there quietly eating and drinking, staring blankly out into space. He nodded to them as he made his way to the refrigerator and opened it. Stone stood there for a few seconds and looked at the offerings, and grabbed a couple of thick looking ham sandwiches and a can of coke.

               
Rounding the tables, he stopped at one of the windows. The blinds were closed but he could see light coming in from the street-lights. He grabbed the rod and pulled the blind opened and stared out into the darkened street.

               
There were vehicles all over the place. It seemed like people were leaving the downtown core in droves. The traffic was moving at a snails pace. As he watched, he saw a silver coloured SUV with tinted windows suddenly pulled a U-turn and jumped the curb across the street from them, at the Telus building. The vehicle was heading west, travelling the wrong direction down the sidewalk to get past the traffic jam. The SUV only made it a dozen or so meters, near the Japanese restaurant that Stone frequented, when a white un-marked police cruiser pulled in front of the vehicle, blocking its way.

               
Stone was shocked when he saw the silver SUV pick up speed instead of slowing. It was a good thing that the vehicle didn’t have more room to accelerate, but still the size of the SUV and simple physics gave it a distinct advantage. It had to be going nearly thirty when it smashed into the police car. Stone could see the driver and his partner wrenched violently sideways as the SUV smashed it out of the way.

“What the fuck?” He blurted out. His exclamation got the attention of the other fire-fighters in the mess hall and they left their tables to join him at the window.

               
The SUV’s driver momentarily lost control of the vehicle and it sideswiped the wall, smashing out the windows of the Fuji Yama Pine Lake Restaurant. Although shaken by the impact, the driver in the un-marked police cruiser switched on the lights and moments later and he turned the wheel, bringing the car onto the sidewalk to give chase.

               
As Stone watched, the SUV regained control and the massive silver machine picked up speed. Stone was having a difficult time seeing what was going on, but he was quite sure that he had seen the SUV hit at least one person as it tried to get away.

               
The unmarked police car skidded to a halt and both doors opened. The driver stood at the side, the radio in his hand as he called in the plate number of the Silver SUV, while his partner got out and crouched out of sight. Stone presumed he was checking out the pedestrian.

               
Within seconds, the SUV was lost from sight. He shoved a big portion of the sandwich into his mouth and ran for the door, shouting through the food; “Pedestrian down!”

               
Stone didn’t slow down to see if anyone was following him or not. He had enough faith in his fellow Fire Fighters and EMT’s to know that they would follow him. Someone was hurt, and he had his duty to fulfill. As he skidded past the nearest fire engine, by impulse, he grabbed a fire-axe.

               
Once he opened the door, the sounds of the city hit him like a living creature. He definitely could hear gunfire; some of it seemed dangerously close. It was almost drowned out by the sounds of horns coming from the tide of crawling vehicles that were clogging the cities arteries all around him. Stone did what he could to block out the screams and shouts of fear mingled with outrage.

               
When he hit the corner, there was no way he would have time to wait for the lights to change, and he figured it wouldn’t make any difference. He pushed himself harder and as he hit the edge of the street, he vaulted onto the hood of a late model Pontiac, earning a stream of curses from the owner. Ignoring the outraged driver, he leapt from car to car, his impressive weight denting the metal of the vehicles as he landed.

               
In a handful of seconds he cleared the street and made it to the sidewalk. About a dozen meters ahead he could see a form sprawled on the sidewalk. The officer was crouched next to the man, talking to him while his partner continued to speak into the handset. Even though less than a minute had passed, there were several people standing around it looking down. “Clear the way,” Stone bellowed at the top of this lungs as he approached.

               
A couple of the people looked up and one woman and quickly back-pedalled as he neared. They cleared away from the sprawled form of a East Indian man in is late fifties or early sixties lying on the ground. He was moaning and speaking in rapid fire Punjabi, flaying his arms around. The man’s turban had been knocked loose and was sliding off to the side, and his flowing grey shirt was covered in blood.  The officer was doing everything in his power to try and calm the man, but didn’t seem to be having much luck.

               
Stone skidded to a halt and dropped to his knees next to the injured man. He could see immediately that the man’s hip was badly shattered from the angle he was laying, and that the old gentleman was in horrendous pain. “Easy sir, we’re here to help.”

               
The old man grabbed his arm and tried pulled him close. For a second Stone thought that he was going to try and bite him, but he realized that it was nothing more than the fear and pain causing the man to reach out for help. His words were laced with pain as he continued to plead in Punjabi. “Sir, can you speak English? I don’t understand a word you’re saying!”

               
The officer shook his head. “Poor guy doesn’t speak a word of English, there’s nothing we can do to try and calm him down.

               
Stone had to agree. He figured either the old man didn’t understand, or he was in shock, or simply couldn’t concentrate enough to reply in English. Stone shook his head and looked around. He spotted several Fire-Fighters and one EMT only a short distance away. “Stand back people, give this man some room!” He yelled as the small group of bystanders began to close in.

               
Almost as an afterthought, he looked at the officer. “You ok?”

               
The officer nodded. He was an older Chinese man, probably in his late forties. Like Stone, he looked exhausted, and had deep lines under his eyes. A sure sign of lack of sleep. “Yeah, a little shaken, but nothing serious.”

               
The pedestrians backed away as the Fire-Fighters and the EMT arrived. Stone pulled away from the old man, gently but forcibly removing the man’s fingers from his arm. “These men will take good care of you; you’re going to be just fine.” He told the old gentleman.

               
Stone wasn’t sure if the old man understood him or not, but he nodded once and closed his eyes, going limp. He felt a pang of sympathy for the old man, hoping that the pain would ease now that he had slipped into unconsciousness. Stepping away from the man, he made sure that the bystanders gave the EMT and the other fire-fighters enough room to work.

               
The driver of the un-marked car slammed the door and walked around the back of the vehicle, cursing under his breath. He was another Asian man, a few years younger than his partner and nearly as tall as Stone. The officer paused for a several moments to watch as the EMT and the fire-fighters worked on the unconscious man.

               
Stone stood back and waited, his eyes scanning the people and carefully analyzing everything around him. The driver of the un-marked car walked over to him and rubbed his neck. “Think I might have twisted something when that idiot hit me.” He grumbled.

               
“Maybe you should get to the hospital. It could be serious.” Eric said, still watching the streets.

               
The officer shook his head. “Things are getting worse there. More and more people are succumbing to their injuries and are rising up. Last I heard the Foothills and the Rockyview were becoming nothing short of war zones.”

               
Stone was about to reply when the officers radio crackled. “Excuse me,” the man said and he stepped away from Stone.

               
Another minute passed and most of the bystanders left. A couple stood by watching. A black man with heavy dreadlocks approached them. He was dressed in Jeans and a heavy denim jacket. Despite the cool night air, his jacket was open and Stone noticed that he was wearing a white T-shirt that exclaimed ‘Don’t Worry, Be Happy.’ Stepping carefully, the black man made his way around the EMT’s and stood next to Stone. In an Jamaican accented voice, he asked; “Is there anything I can do to help?”

               
Stone shook his head. “Not really, unless you speak how to speak Punjabi.”

               
“Yes,” He replied with a small smile. “As a matter of fact man, I do.”

               
Stone blinked and rubbed his eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”

               
The young man shook his head; the dreadlocks shook like cat-tails with the motion. “No sir, I speak fluent Punjabi.”

Not believing him, Stone shook his head. “Ok,” Stone said. He gave the younger man a quick appraisal. He stood a few inches short of Stones six plus and weighed at least seventy pounds less, but there was compassion in the young man’s eyes, something that was missing from a lot of people in these troubled times. “You sure you’re not bullshitting me?”

The young man shook his head. “No.”

“What’s your name?” Stone asked him.

“Jesse.”

“Ok, Jesse, if the old man comes to, we’re going to need you to translate for us. We’ve radioed for an ambulance, but it could be a while before it gets here.”

Jesse nodded in understanding. He knelt before the moaning figure and spoke quietly to the man. Stone could only make out the occasional word, and it sounded like Punjabi to him. Clearly the old man understood what Jesse was saying to him and he complied with the young man’s request and he relaxed. Jesse stood up and smiled. “He’s in a great deal of pain, but he said he’d try to lay still.”

Nodding, Stone was about to speak when he noticed a single figure step from the alley south of them, from between the building and the car rental place. Something about the way it moved set off alarms in his head and he hefted the fire-axe he had brought with him from the fire-hall.

Sensing Stone’s un-ease, Jesse turned his head to look up the street. “Uh-oh…”

Both officers turned and looked down the street. As one, they drew their Glock 10’s and took aim. The older Chinese man called out loudly. “Stop where you are and state your name!”

Upon words, the figured turned towards the small group of people. A low growl escaped the figures lips and it began to run towards them.

“It’s one of them!” Cried the driver of the un-marked car. Instantly both men opened fire, aiming for the center of mass. With the number of cars near the figure, they couldn’t risk going for a head shot. If they missed, there could be collateral damage. The .40 calibre rounds hit the zombie in the chest. The first two shots staggered the undead creature, and then the third shot hit it in the shoulder. The zombie spun in a lazy circle, only to be hit in the side. In a spray of crimson, the zombie doubled over and fell to the ground, landing heavily on its right side.

The two officers crept towards the fallen figure, ignoring the screams of shock, fear and outrage coming from the cars nearby. The older Chinese officer held the Glock 10 in his fists, pointed directly out from him, his brown eyes locked on the downed zombie. The other officer held his firearm in both hands as well, but kept it pointed at the dusty sidewalk. At the sound of the gunfire, the few remaining pedestrians took off, looking for shelter.

T
he harsh glare of the street lamp gave everyone watching a clear look at it, if only for a smattering of seconds. The zombie was a male and had been an executive type. It was wearing the tattered remains of an expensive suit, and strangely enough, Stone noted, that it was missing one shoe. It was impossible to see what had killed the man, but there was no mistaking that what it was. Blood and chunks of what could only be flesh covered his mouth and chin, and there was gore splattered all over his hands and the front of his expensive suit.

Stone watched in mounting horror as the zombie pushed itself up on its elbows and shook its head. It was almost comical how it blinked several times, as if it was trying to shake off a bad hang-over. Its dead features suddenly hardened into a snarling visage and it pushed off the street, coming to its feet.

Immediately the Chinese officer opened fire, while his partner brought the weapon up and he aimed at the undead creature. Spurts of semi-congealed blood erupted from multiple impacts as the officers emptied their weapons into the creature, but to no avail. “I’m out!” shouted the Chinese officer as he popped the clip and began to reload.

“Oh man, this is just fucking great!” Stone snarled. He jogged forward and placed himself directly between the two officers and on-coming figure.

“Hey, get out of the line of fire” The older officer shouted. When Stone ignored the command, he cursed in Mandarin and reached out to grab him by the shoulder.

Stone ignored the cries of protest as he hefted the fire Axe in both hands. The exhaustion, combined with the fear he had been feeling for days, and the anger of what he had witness only minutes before came to a boiling point.

The oncoming figure’s growl became a scream of hunger as it raised its arms.

Snarling his own challenge, Stone raised his Axe and charged the Zombie. The two met a dozen yards later and Stone threw every once of his considerable strength into the swing. The Fire Axe came down with a meaty smack and cleanly cleaved the Zombies head in two, but the Axe didn’t stop there, it bit deep through the former executive’s neck and finally came to rest in the Zombies torso.

The corpse dropped like a sack of bricks, yanking the axe from Stone’s hands.

The scene became deathly still; even the cars in the vicinity had ceased the insistent honking and blowing.

“Holy shit!” Exclaimed the EMT, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” Stone replied, looking down at the corpse of the zombie, the Axe embedded deeply in the zombie’s chest. “You can say that again.” He spat on the body as he grabbed the Axe handle with both hands, and then he placed one foot on the stomach of the zombie and gave the weapon a mighty heave. It came free from the body with a sickening sucking noise and the sound of splintering bone.

Both officers looked at one another and then at Stone. Any other time, when things were normal, they would be screaming at Stone to drop his weapon and get on the ground, but these were far from normal times.

By now the traffic was beginning to flow again, and the cars were moving past at a walking pace. The two officers nodded to Stone, the EMT, and the other Fire Fighters and got back into their damaged vehicle. The older Chinese man rolled down his window and leaned out. “Good job on the zombie.” He said with a tired smile.

Stone slung the Axe over his shoulder, all the while ignoring the fact that it was dripping with semi congealed blood and gore. “Thanks,” He replied. “Watch your back out there, Officer.”

“You too.”

“Jesse –“ Stone said, and then stopped. The young man was no where to be seen. “Hey, where’d the Jamaican go?”

Shrugs met his question. No one seemed to know. Stone shook his head. The gunfire and violence might have scared the young man away. He couldn’t blame the man for leaving.

He turned and walked back to the medic and the fire-fighters who were still working on the East Indian man. “We better get him off the street; god knows how many more of those fuckers are still around.”

The medic nodded and began giving the fire-fighters instructions. Together, they lifted the injured man off the street. Stone stepped boldly out into the street, holding his hand out in front of him, forcing the driver of a beat up pick-up to stop. The driver laid on his horn, and leaned out the window. “Get the fuck out of the way asshole!”

Stone stopped and glanced over his shoulder to make sure that the med-tech and the fire-fighters were on his heels. With a cold calm, he pulled the Axe off his shoulder and walked towards the truck. The driver, seeing something in Stone’s face, blanched and began to roll up his window as quickly as he could.

That didn’t stop Stone. He casually walked over to the driver side window and with deceptive ease, swung the Axe and smashed the window in, showering the now terrified driver with pieces of safety glass. He reached into the cab and grabbed the driver with his free hand and pulled him so that they were nose to nose. “Listen, asshole…” Stone snarled, letting his anger get the better of him. “I’ve got a badly injured man here who needs medical assistance, and there is no way I’m going to let some fucking red-neck in a pickup prevent me from giving him the help he needs!” Stone said, letting spittle fly all over the scared drivers face.

The driver of the pickup only nodded his mouth open and his brown eyes wide with fear. He swallowed deeply, his Adams apple bobbing up and down like an epileptic chicken, terror making it impossible for him to form words.

Stone shoved the man deeper into the cab and backed away. He spit on the ground once again in contempt and looked around at the other drivers, who were all carefully avoiding eye contact. Not one protested in any manner as he led the way across the busy street to the fire-hall.

Once they were inside, he leaned against the wall and let out a heavy sigh. He had let his anger get the better of him twice now in less than ten minutes, but at least he had been able to save several lives in the process. If he hadn’t taken out the zombie, god only knew how many more people it would have ended up killing, and in return, adding more to the already growing undead population.

He let the Axe drop to his side as he began to walk across the open floor towards the back. He wanted to get the blood and gore cleaned off the tool. There was no way he was going to let it out of his sight, but carrying it around dirty like that was just begging for trouble.

“Hey, Eric –“ a voice called out as he turned on the faucet.

“Yeah?” He growled. Stone picked up a clean handful of paper-towels and put the Axe under the water, watching as the semi-congealed blood loosened and turned a deep crimson.

“Here, you forgot your drink,” Lucrois said.

Stone looked up from the sink and glanced sideways to his partner. The other fire-man stood there with a can of coke in his hand, the red aluminium container beaded with condensation. He turned off the water and took the offered can. “Thanks, Dave.”

“You got it, Eric. After that little run-in, I figured you could use a drink.”

Stone popped the tab and gave Lucrois a half grin as he took a deep sip of the dark brown liquid. “A triple shot of Rye would go damn good right now, don’t you think?”

Lucrois chuckled. “That and forty eight hours un-interrupted sleep.”

“Amen, brother.”  Stone took another pull from the can. Just as he was about to turn and put it on the edge of the sink, the alarm went off. Stone stiffened as he listened to it, and waited for the announcement. As the chief blared out the information over the intercom, his frown deepened.

Lucrois paled. “That’s a big one, four alarm fire.”

“Yeah, and here I figured we might be able to get a little more downtime.” He slapped his forehead and rolled his eyes. “Silly me.”  Stone grabbed the can and drained the last of the coke from it before he crushed it in his hand and tossed the can into the garbage next to the sink.

Without another word, Lucrois ran across the garage and began to suit up. Stone finished running the Axe under the water and wiped it as clean as he could with the paper towels before heading to join Lucrois and the rest of his team. Within a handful of minutes, all four fire-trucks were pulling out of the station, their sirens blaring and lights flashing brightly in the darkness.

The fire was only a few blocks away from the station, but it took them almost three times as long as it would have normally taken due to the congestion and the flat out refusal of some of the motorists to make way. With Stone at the wheel, he was forced to smash several of the vehicles to the side. Under normal circumstances, he would only have considered doing this.  All things considered he was too tired to care about the possible ramifications of his actions.

Finally they reached their destination. They were deep in the downtown core and the fire was on the upper floors of an apartment building. As overworked as they were, the Police had already cordoned off the street and were busy keeping both pedestrians and the undead at bay.  Stone blocked the sounds of screams and gunfire from his ears as he concentrated at the task at hand.

He and his team had worked together for several years and they moved like a well oiled machine. Few commands had to be spoken as they set about their assigned tasks. As they worked, Stone stood back and surveyed the situation. He could see flames reaching out from over a dozen different locations on what looked to be the seven and eighth floors of the building. All those who could be evacuated from the lower floors were still coming out. He placed one hand over his eyes as he looked to the roof of the building. Those who were incapable of making it down the stairs were waving and crying for help. He could see several dozen people at the ledge.

Fortunately for them, the Bronto had just arrived and they were already raising the bucket to help those who were trapped. Two ladder trucks were already up on the sidewalk and were just now raising their ladders. All in all, there were already seven trucks at the scene.

Together, Stone and Lucrois entered the building and made their way up the stairs, passing people who were doing everything in their power to escape inferno. There were other fire-fighters, EMT’s and police already inside, doing their best to co-ordinate as orderly an evacuation as possible.

Stone wasn’t surprised to hear moans and gunshots. A fire as large as this one, considering how fast it had spread, would have produced casualties. Those who died from smoke inhalation or flame induced injuries rose from the dead. It was now as simple as that.

They made their way up the stairwell and even several floors below the flames, they could see smoke trickling down from the upper stories. In the lower levels, it wasn’t too bad, but they knew that it would only get worse the higher they climbed.

By the time they hit the seventh floor, the smoke was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Several of the Fire-fighters broke off from the main body and turned a hose on the flames that were licking the frame of the fire-door. It was pointless trying to put out the fire, they only wanted to keep the flames at bay long enough to help those who were still trapped above escape the inferno.

Stone, Lucrois, and several more fire-fighters continued passed the men and made their way to the eight floor. Again, several more fire-fighters broke away and began to pour water on the door. Stone and Lucrois made their way to the ninth floor.

They could still hear shouts, coughing and screams of fear coming from above them. The sound of panicked footsteps on the stone steps was almost deafening in the confines of the narrow stairwell. Over a done people raced passed them, some barely able to see in the thick grey smoke that filled the stairs. Lucrois and Stone helped several of the people who were having a hard time breathing get passed, clearing the way.

At the ninth floor doorway, Stone paused and placed his hand against the metal frame. He couldn’t feel any heat coming from the door, so the fire hadn’t reached this part of the building yet. But he knew from experience that the inferno could spread in a matter of a few heartbeats, moving faster than a raging beast.

“Ok, on the count of three, I’m going to open the door, you know the drill.” Stone said as he grabbed the metal bar to the fire-door.

Lucrois nodded and stood back to the side. He didn’t want to get caught in any backdraft. On the count of three, Stone stood to the side and pushed the door open. Immediately a billowing wave of thick oily black smoke poured out of the hall, but there were no flames.

Both Stone and Lucrois flicked on their powerful maglight flashlights and they entered the hall. Even thought miraculously the power was still on, they were having a hard time seeing through the smoke. Each man moved forward, carefully watching the ground. At each door the paused and tried the door knob. The first four doors were wide open, the occupants clearly having made their escape. The fifth door, however, was locked tight.

Eric pounded on the door with his fist and shouted; “Is there anyone in there?”

Both men paused and listened. Their heavy gear made subtle sounds almost impossible to hear, and yet they strained and listened. A low moan came through the door. Lucrois looked at Stone. “Think it’s one of them?”

Stone shrugged his shoulders. “Probably, but we still have to check it out.” He leaned into the door and yelled; “Whoever is in there, stay away from the door, we’re going to have to break it down!”

Lucrois nodded and backed away from the door. Stone backed up and using Lucrois’ flashlight as guidance, he aimed his Fire Axe at the center of the door. The first swing smashed through the door with relative ease, creating a space large enough for him to glance through. “Take a look,” he instructed, backing away from the door.

Lucrois took the vacated position and held his flashlight high, aiming the powerful beam through the crack in the door. “It looks like we got one man down in the middle of the hall. He’s moving, but it appears feeble.”

“Doubt it’s a zombie then,” Stone answered. Lucrois backed away from the door and stone hit it several more times, widening the gap so that he could stick his arm through it. He reached in and unlocked the door and swung it open.

Stone entered first and moved over to check out the figure on the floor. The man was dressed in tan slacks and a white shirt, which was smudged with soot and stained with sweat. He appeared to be in his early thirties. He moaned weakly and turned over on his side and attempted to push himself up, and then promptly fell down, the effort too much for his system. His eyes were half open and his breathing was laboured. Lucrois kneeled next to the incapacitated figure and pulled out a small air bottle and mask. Gently he lifted the man’s head and put the mask over his mouth and turned on the flow. “Take a deep breath sir; we’re going to get you out of here.”

The man took several deep breaths, regaining strength with each one.

“Is there anyone else in the apartment?” Lucrois asked.

He tried to speak, but was overcome by a wracking cough. The best he could manage was a shake of his head.

Just to be sure, Axe still firmly gripped in his hand, Stone walked down the narrow hall and glanced into the kitchen, bathroom and the one bedroom. He glanced over his shoulder and yelled back at Lucrois. “It’s all clear. I’m going to check the living room, you get him to safety.”

Lucrois nodded.

Stone entered the smoke filled living room and he could see smoke billowing up from the edge of the wall. Looking around, he could see where the carpet was starting to catch fire. The heat, even through his gear, was oppressive. Satisfied that the man was indeed alone, Stone turned when he heard a loud creaking moan issue forth from the floor.

“Oh shit!”

As the words left his mouth, the floor gave way and he fell crashing into the inferno in the apartment below. The section of the floor he had been standing on smashed through the already weakened timbers of the floor below and he landed with a bone jarring crash. The fall momentarily stunned the large man, and he lay there on his back, staring up at the hole which reached through the two floors above, almost mesmerized by the shower of hot embers and sparks that tumbled down like a fiery snow from the very depths of hell itself.

               
His survival instinct kicked in and he shook his head, doing his best to clear away the cobwebs that threatened to blanket his rational mind. His back felt like someone had just danced the tango on it. Gingerly, he attempted to sit up. Satisfied that nothing was broken or that he wasn’t seriously hurt, he climbed to his feet and surveyed his surroundings.

               
The apartment he was standing in was identical in shape and shape to the ones above. He couldn’t make out the furniture or decorations due to the smoke and lack of light. Stone reached down pulled his powerful flashlight from his belt. He flicked on the device and played it across the room. The walls were blackened, and he could see flames dancing merrily along the windowsill, fed by the oxygen coming through the shattered window.

               
Stone turned to his right and shone the light as far down the hall as it would penetrate. Suddenly, he remembered he had dropped his fire Axe and he played the light across the debris around him. He spotted it, half buried in smouldering embers and ash, but otherwise intact. Stone grabbed the handle and pulled it free from the wreckage.

               
Stone leaned the Axe against his right leg and reached for the microphone attached to the lapel of his heavy jacket.

               
It was gone.

               
He ran the light along the side of his jacket and he could see the cord dangling loose below his belt. With his left hand, he grabbed hold of the cord and pulled it up to eye level. The end was frayed and bare wires glistened in the light.

               
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” He snarled, the anger over-riding the building fear. Stone looked up at the ruined ceiling and yelled; “Is this your idea of a fucking joke?”

                
 The smoke had already filled in the gap between the floors and he couldn’t see more than a few meters. Stone took several more seconds to consider his options. He came to the realization that his best bet would probably be to go to the window and try to get the attention of his fellow Fire-fighters. They could use the Bronto or the ladder truck to pull him to safety.

               
He took three steps across the debris covered floor when the flames that had been merrily dancing in the slight breeze flared into a solid wall of primal elemental destruction. It happened so fast that Stone yelped in fright.

               
He turned around and picked up the Axe, and hen pushed his way through the debris to enter the narrow hall. He had to hope that he would be able to make it to another apartment or to one of the stairwells, as it was his only chance of making it out of the building alive.

               
As stone passed the bedroom door, something reached out and grabbed hold of his arm, and before he knew it, a zombie bit deeply into the fabric of his jacket. He screamed out in terror, suddenly taking in the sight of the undead monster. In life, she had been gorgeous. A few wisps of blond hair still clung to her fire ravaged skull, and he could see that her left eye had been a bright blue. The right side of her face was a mass of bubbling flesh, half melted, half charred.

               
The zombie was naked, except for a few unburned scraps of lingerie that still clung to the left side of her body. The heat of the flames had burned away the light fabric like so much tissue. Like a rabid dog, the zombie shook her head back and forth, nearly wrenching Stone from his feet. Although he could feel the pressure of her teeth on his arm, the tough fabric of his jacket prevented the zombie from puncturing through to the meat.

               
“Get the fuck off me!” He roared and shoved the zombie back with all his considerable might. The zombie smashed into the wall and left a body sized hole in the drywall, but still it refused to let go of his arm. The zombie grabbed hold of his limb with both of her hands and bit even harder.

               
Struggling against the undead creature, Stone raised the Axe, swearing a blue streak all the while. With the zombie holding on like a pit-bull, it was difficult to manoeuvre the Axe in the confined space, but he managed to turn it around so that the pointed end of the weapon was just above the zombies head. Swinging it back, he rammed the end of it through the top of the zombie’s skull.

               
The heated metal bit through flesh and bone with surprising ease. Instantly, the jaw slackened and the zombie went limp. Her hands fell to her side and her remaining eye closed.

               
Angrily, Stone pulled his arm away from the zombie’s mouth reached down to pick up the flashlight he had dropped. Shining the light on his arm, he inspected it and was relieved to see that the zombie hadn’t been able to penetrate the tough fabric of his jacket. His arm hurt like hell though, and he knew that he would have one doozey of a bruise in the morning. If he lived to see the morning, that is, he thought grimly.

               
Stone stepped back into the hall and made his way to the apartment entrance. He paused for a single heartbeat and played the light across the ash covered tiles of the bathroom. Nothing stirred in the darkness. At the door, he didn’t hesitate for a second and he pulled it open, revealing a darkened corridor, with flames flickering all around. Fortunately for Stone they weren’t as powerful as those back in the apartment.

               
Before stepping out into the hall, he glanced to the left and the right. Sure enough, he could see several figures moving down the burning hall towards him. Even over the cracking of the flame and the groans of the stressed walls and support beams he could make out the hungry moans of the walking dead.

               
There was enough light, even through the smoke, for Stone to see by. He shut off his flashlight and returned it to his utility belt. Unsure which way to go, he closed his eyes and counted to three, and then stepped out into the hall and turned right.

               
"You want a piece of me?” He called out, challenging the zombies moving towards him. “Come and fucking get some!”

               
As if replying to his challenge, the nearest zombie stumbled forward. She had probably been someone’s grandmother in life. A tiny matronly woman, who stood at no more than five feet in height and weighing at best one hundred pounds, took several steps towards Stone. Despite the dire situation he was in, trapped on all sides by not only the walking dead but the flames of the inferno, a half hysterical laugh burst from Stone’s lips as she opened her mouth, revealing naked gums.

               
Stone swung his Axe and shattered the woman’s jaws. The blow knocked her to the floor and he stepped over her, ready to face the zombie directly behind. Without even waiting to take a good look at the walking feeder, he brought the Axe up and cleaved the zombie’s head clear from the body. The head smashed into the wall, splitting open like a ripe melon. Half cooked brains spilled out from the skull and clung to the smoking wall. As the corpse dropped, a third zombie came at him, this one half covered in devouring flames.

               
Stone kicked the zombie in the stomach with so much force that it smashed through a flame weakened wall and landed in a heap on the other side. It lay on the floor as the flames crept over its neck and began to lick at its face. It tried to find purchase but was incapable of pulling itself from the floor.

Eric moved passed it to meet a forth zombie. This one was burning as well, and Stone reached behind it with his Axe. He hooked the creature by the neck and then pulled forward and to the left. The momentum smashed the zombie face first into the nearest wall. Its head smashed into the soot covered drywall with a resounding crack and it went limp.

               
Finally the coast appeared clear. Stone pushed his way forward. He passed flames that danced merrily on the drywall, leaving strange, chaotic patterns. Like living creatures, more flames reached out from open doors, ready to consume the unwary.

               
Stone was determined to make it to safety.  He wasn’t ready to die because of the fire, or at the hands of the hungry dead.  The heat inside his gear was stifling, which meant that it was deadly to anyone unprotected.  Breathing was getting more and more difficult with each step. He was sure he had plenty of oxygen left in his tanks, but the exhaustion, the exertion and the mental stress was eating away at his defences. Stone knew he only had minutes to escape.

               
He caught a glimpse of the stairwell less than a dozen meters ahead of him. Relief rushed through his body, knowing that if he could make it to the stairs; he could make it to safety. In his haste, he bolted forward. Suddenly, the floor gave way just as he stepped down and his left leg slid through the ruined flooring up to his thigh. He screamed as white hot pain ripped through his calf and his knee. As he fell, he blindly swung out with his axe in a desperate attempt to keep from falling straight through to the floor below. The Axe bit deeply into the wall to his right and he held onto it with both hands, fighting valiantly against the pain-induced blackness that threatened to overcome his senses.

               
Stone knew that if he gave in, he was dead.

               
His muscles strained and his leg sent shivers of agony through his entire body as he slowly extracted himself from the hole. So intent was he on getting free that he didn’t even feel the rough hands grab at his neck and shoulder until he felt a rough jerk. A blackened hand, oozing heated blood from the cracks in the flesh clamped over the faceplate of his helmet.

               
Instead of fighting the zombie, Stone allowed the undead creature to pull him backwards. Even though the zombie was only interested in a meal, it was inadvertently pulling him from the hole in the floor. Stone was shocked at the strength behind the hands that were pulling on him. The blackened fingers gripped his shoulder with inhuman strength and with one mighty heave; he was suddenly free of the hole.

               
Just then, he felt teeth latch onto the shoulder of his heavy jacket as the zombie bit down, trying to get at the soft flesh below the tough fabric. Instead of fighting the creature, Stone allowed their combined momentum to push him backwards. He fell flat on his back, the zombie caught beneath him. There was a sickening sensation of bones crunching against metal as the oxygen tank strapped to his back drove through the weakened flesh of the zombie’s chest. The hands grasping at his face and neck suddenly went limp, but he could still feel the teeth of the creature trying to gnaw through his jacket.

               
Through the haze and smoke, Stone watched as several more victims of the fire began to crowd around him, their fire desiccated hands reaching down, not to help, but to pull the flesh from his bones.  Despite his pain, and the awkward position he found himself in, he was able to push himself up into a sitting position. Finally the zombie that was trying to rip through his jacket relented and the pressure disappeared from his shoulder.

               
He almost laughed when he saw that, despite everything that had just happened, he was still holding onto the Axe. His momentum when he fell back must have pulled the Axe free from the wall. One of the zombies near his arm reached down and grabbed hold of the Axe. As it attempted to pull the weapon away, another zombie reached for him and took hold of Stone’s left arm. For a second, Stone found himself the prize in a macabre tug of war between the two undead! A third zombie, it’s fire blackened arms held forward, its fingers curled like the claws of a raptor, came straight towards him, passing straight between the two struggling zombies.

               
“That’s it!” Stone bellowed at the top of his lungs. “I’ve had it with these mother fucking zombies in this mother fucking building!”

               
Instead of fighting the zombie for the Axe, Stone let go of it. The totally unexpected move caught the zombie by surprise. It had no time to compensate for the sudden lack of resistance and it fell backwards, stumbling for several steps before finally landing on its ass.

               
Without missing a beat, Stone swung his now freed right hand with all his might and smashed the zombie that was stumbling towards him in the face. The blow rocked the corpse right off its feet and it fell backwards, right into the hole that Eric, only moments before, had been trapped in. It fell straight through the hole, which seemed to open up on its own accord, and it fell from sight.

               
Stone put all his weight on his right leg and nearly passed out from the pain. White flashes burst across his field of vision and he had to struggle to keep from blacking out. Sensing his distress, the zombie who had his left arm pulled Stone into an embrace. Waves of nausea washed over Stone as the zombie tried to bite into the hard Plexiglas material of his helmet. Teeth, damaged by the heat of the fire splintered as it tried to push through the faceplate.

               
Struggling tremendously against not only the crippling pain he was feeling, but the ruthless strength of the zombie, Stone managed to force the zombie’s arms apart and he slammed his head forward into the zombie’s mouth. Teeth splintered and the jaw broke in several places upon impact. Even though the force of the blow caused the zombie no real harm, it knocked the undead monster off balance. Stone the grabbed the zombie by one of its arms and used the creatures momentum to throw it into the open hole.

               
The zombie went through the whole, its arms wind milling comically as its dead brain seemed to register what was happening before it finally disappeared from view. Cursing loudly, Stone glanced around as he bent to pick up his Axe. Relief flooded his body as he saw that he was finally alone.

               
But he was far from safe.

               
The conflagration had built in intensity in the short time he had been forced to deal with the walking dead. The smoke was getting thicker by the second and he could feel the intensity of the flames through his protective gear. Support beams and debris were beginning to rain down around him as the fire grew in power.

               
Looking down, Stone could barely see the hole he had almost fallen through. Carefully, and moving as quickly as his wounded leg would allow, he skirted the hole and then began a limping sprint down the hall towards the stairwell.

               
Seconds passed in interwoven eternities as he made his way through the smoke-choked hall. Finally, he reached the stairwell and threw open the door. The sudden pressure change forced the door out of his hands and he was blown into the narrow stairwell by a wall of flame.

               
He was bodily slammed into the far wall by the force of the blast. The air was knocked from his lungs and he found that his legs would no longer support his weight. Darkness reached out and took him into its cool embrace.

 

***

 

Stone opened his eyes. He could feel cool air wafting over his sweat drenched face. He paused for a moment to get his bearings. Stone realized that he was outside, and he was lying prone. Gingerly, he took stock of his body, feeling the still intense pain in his right leg and knee. His back was a mass of aches, and he felt as if he had just gone fifteen rounds with a world class heavyweight boxer, but other than that, he was alive.

               
Carefully, he pushed himself up to one elbow and looked around.

               
“Sleeping on the job again?”  Lucrois said as he knelt next to Stone. The younger man passed him a bottle of water, which Stone accepted gratefully. “Glad to see you made it out.”

               
Stone nodded. “I didn’t think I was going to get out.”

               
“We’ve evacuated as many people as we could,” Lucrois informed him. “There’s too many of the zombies in there for us to deal with. We’re going to have to let the fire burn out. Nothing we can do.”

               
Stone only nodded as he watched the flames reach into the night sky.