Zombiegrad. A horror novel

“Nothing,” she said and wiped her tears off her cheeks. “Just woke up and came to realize that the world is going to hell. And my father’s dead … Get me out of here. Please. My leg hurts.”

“You gonna be all right,” Ramses said. “That I promise you.”

He looked through the window. After a lot of gainless efforts, the undead had lost their interest in the truck. But they stuck around.

“Give a honk again,” she said.

“We’ve done this like a million times. The battery’s gonna be dead soon. It’s useless. Just attracts more creatures to us.”

“Just do something to get us out!” Ksenia shouted. “I don’t want to die here!”

Ramses looked at her face – contorted with fear and anger – and sighed. He honked the honker. It was the best he could do.

“Maybe they’re all dead there?” Ramses said.

The walkie-talkie, which was sitting on the dashboard, crackled and started spitting out static. It gave Ksenia a start. Then a male voice spoke in Russian.

Ramses glanced over at Ksenia, a question in his face.

“They want us to respond,” Ksenia interpreted the Russian speech.

He met her glance, grabbed the radio and handed it to her. “Then what the hell are we waiting for?”

Ksenia clicked the button, introduced herself in Russian and said a greeting. There was a moment of confused silence at the other end. Ramses was listening with impatience, a hopeful smile on his face. If it were not for his lack of knowledge of Russian, he would’ve snatched the radio away and spoken himself.

Ksenia interpreted for him what was being said. The man on the radio said his name was Ivan, and he was a security guard.

“Oh thank God,” Ivan said. “We were afraid there’s nobody there. Are you alone there? Over.”

“No,” Ksenia said. “There’s another survivor here. His name is Ramses Campbell. He’s a citizen of the United States.”

“Good!” Ivan said. “Wait a second … The hotel manager wants to talk to you.”

There was a noise in the background, and then a pleasant baritone voice said in English, “Hello there! My name is Andrew Thomas. I’m the General Manager of the Arkaim Hotel, and you are in its territory at the moment.”

“Hi, Andrew,” Ramses said. “I know who you are. I’m your return customer. Checked in a couple days ago.”

Andy chuckled. “These are bizarre circumstances but I’m glad you’re back, Mr. Campbell.”

“Go for Ramses.”

“What kind of name is that? Egyptian by any chance?”

“As a matter of fact, it is,” Ramses said. “But I’m from Cali.”

“Oh, that explains a lot,” Andy said. “All right, guys. How are you holding up there?”

Ramses looked at the fuel gauge again and replied, “We’ve almost run out of gas. And Ksenia has twisted her ankle.”

“How bad is it?”

Ramses turned to Ksenia. “How’s your leg?”

Ksenia tried to stand and grimaced with pain.

“Her leg hurts real bad,” Ramses said into the mike. “She can’t walk.”

“That’s not good,” Andy said. “Here’s what you’re going to do. Drive your vehicle up to the windows. We’ll lower you a stepladder, you climb up and get inside.”

“Sounds too easy,” Ramses said and frowned. “But okay. We’ll try.”

“It should work,” Andy said.

“Copy that.”

Ramses started the engine. The truck moved a couple of meters and stopped.

Ksenia looked at the fuel indicator, which had sat at the zero.

“Damn!” Ksenia said. “We’re out of gas.”

Ramses picked up the walkie-talkie and told about it to Andrew Thomas.

“Roger that,” Andy said with a sigh.

Now the heater stopped functioning, it was going to be cold in the cab soon. A crazy thought crept into his mind – of them freezing and starving to death in this tomb of a truck. Thank God he would have a concubine to accompany him in his life after death. Like a pharaoh. For a brief moment, he could not think straight.

“Just hold on there, Ramses,” Andy said. “We’ll get you out of there. Stand by. Andrew Thomas out.”

In five minutes, a window opened on the first floor, and a young man wearing a business suit looked out. He waved to Ramses, holding his walkie-talkie in his hand. He and another man put a stepladder through the window and placed it on the ground below. Ramses fished out the scope out of the backpack and took a closer look at the windows.

At the other end of the building, another window opened. Right above the crowd of the flesh-eating things. Two men looked out the window.

The Englishman lifted the walkie-talkie to his mouth.

“Hi there! We’ve come up with a rescue plan here,” Ramses heard him say. “Courtesy of Ivan and Goran.” He pointed at the guy with a shortcut and an Italian-looking man.

“When I give you a signal,” Andy went on, “get out of the van and run to this window. You’ll hear a series of explosions. Be not afraid. That’ll be the pyrotechnics. For distraction. We’ve put the stepladder down for you. You’ll use the ladder to climb inside through this window. Our guys will distract the crazy bastards over there.”

About thirty yards between the truck and the windows. We gonna make it, Ramses pondered and pocketed the scope.

“Okay,” he said over the radio. “Let’s give it a try.”

“Just let us know when you’re ready,” Andy said.

“Yeah, I will,” Ramses said.

He turned to Ksenia. “Firecrackers, huh? Can you believe it? They’re gonna use firecrackers to save our asses.” He shook his head. “I like this guy.”