The Week of the Dead by Viktor Longfellow Read Free Book Online Page A

began to pack everything they could find: food, flashlights, some underwear, while Phil went around the house looking for weapons. Phil had always collected sports memorabilia. Standing in his Pittsburg Steelers jersey, he put on some shoulder pads and a helmet. Harrison turned the corner to find a modern-day knight getting ready for the fight of his life. Harrison came into the room as Phil took a knee like Arthur praying to his Excalibur. Phil’s Excalibur was that of a 1920 Babe Ruth signature baseball bat. Harrison cleared his throat to question what Phil was doing. “This bat is worth more than my car. Hopefully, it will be more useful than my car. Are we ready?” Phil asked as he put some knee guards over his pants.
    “I have nothing in my room. I had all my important things on me from this morning,” Harrison said as he stuck his hands in his pockets to find the pill bottle. “What’s the plan?”
    Phil took a knee as they met Paul in the kitchen. “Paul, listen. We’re in a bit of a pickle here. There are bad people here, and they are trying to hurt us. Do you understand?”
    Paul nodded. “Like the people on the TV? But the TV has the superheroes. Why don’t they help us?” Paul asked in his small childish voice.
    “Well, they only become superheroes because of situations like this. Bad things happen, and the people who survive it become superheroes. Are we going to become superheroes?” Paul nodded excitedly. “All right. Grab your things.
    “The plan is that we make it down to the garage. Get in the car, head south. My ex–brother-in-law has a hunting cabin that is secluded.”
    “How far?” Harrison asked.
    “Smokey Mountains,” Phil said as he slung a bag over his shoulder pads. “Well, that’s better than here. Elevators are a bad idea. We’ll have to take the stairs. I’m in front with Paul in the middle and you bringing up the back. Take this,” Phil said as he handed Harrison a golf club. The trio crept out of the apartment door trying to be silent and vigilant. The banging on Mr. Harrison’s door caught them by surprise.
    “What about them?” Paul said loudly in the silent hallway.
    “Sh! Paul, those are the bad people trying to trick us into opening the door. If you see anyone, don’t make a sound. OK?” Paul nodded silently as he brushed his backpack against the wall, making a scraping sound. “The stairs are this way.” Phil led them down the still lit hallway.
    When the trio opened the stairwell door, the sun was streaming through a vent in the roof. Although the stairwell did not have artificial illumination, it needed it badly. “Creepy-shit staircase,” Phil whispered while searching his backpack for a flashlight. In the semidarkness, there were sounds of clanking and scratching noises that echoed through the vertical staircase reaching the ears of the men. Phil rolled his shoulders, brushing off the cool air that ran down his back. “ Nice and slowly ,” he told himself. The men were on the fifth floor. While walking down the stairs, Harrison hissed at the man in the football pads. “Listen.”
    “No. I don’t want to hear it.”
    “Don’t be a twat. There could be people still in this building.”
    “They’ll figure the shit out for themselves. We’re not the army.” There was a banging noise coming from the darkness. With the open ventilation, the men couldn’t find the source with the echo.
    It started with a single bang. Then it became numerous. Many hands were beating against the stairwell door on the third floor. The men were on the stairs above the third floor. They aimed their flashlights on the small viewport on the door. The beams of light connected with faces of scared faces banging against the door. Something was behind them, and they were desperate to open the door. “The door is jammed shut. Help me move this!” Harrison said.
    “Fuck them!”
    “Phil, quit being an asshole, and help me, or so help me God, I will beat you to death with