Chapter 3: Part 10, Fire Within

Note from the Author: Well here it is! The original chapter titled "Reunion" was put aside for the time being. I felt like going in a diferent direction, so I had to start from scratch. I hope you like it! - William Zedalis

Jen looked from the body to Corina, and immediately recognized the loss of hope that which she wore plainly on her face. It was an emotion which she not long ago had to overcome. “We’ve got to get moving!” She had no words of comfort for her.

Corina looked up and wiped away the tears which streamed down her cheeks “Damn you for getting me messed up in this!” She was slowly starting to stand but Jen could see that her stance was weaker and somehow broken.

“We’re both damned if we don’t get out of here!” Jen moved to the stairs as Corina slowly followed.

“Shouldn’t we do something for him, like cover him with something?” Corina could see Jen stop for a moment and think about her question.

“We are doing something for him. We’re going to make the bastards at Vion pay for this!” She felt her resolve strengthen as the words left her lips. “We just gotta make it to the car and regroup.”

The Zippo in her hand had grown hot from its continual use and had begun to burn her fingertips. She grabbed a hold of it by its cover and resumed her climb upward. A thin coating of what Jen assumed was blood made their ascent treacherous around the portions where the railing was missing, and behind her she could hear Corina slip on the cracked tiles.

Catching herself with a gasp Corina began to cry. “Jen I... I don’t think that I can go up there. There could be a lot more of those things waiting for us.”

“If there are more of these things, and they found their way up here, then most certainly they’ll come back if we stay here, and I don’t want to die in a bomb shelter.”

“Mocha said something about another exit back downstairs.” She had just begun pleading with Jen when the sound of movement came from the flight below them. She paused and listened intently as the sound became more distinct. It was the sluggish sound of someone struggling to rise followed by what could only be footsteps. That sound, absent of the door opening, could mean only one thing. Corina looked to Jen with a look of abstract fear, Mocha was back.

Jen shrunk back against the wall and disappeared as she extinguished the Zippo. In a hush whisper that Corina could barely hear Jen issued one command “Keep moving!” Lost in the darkness Corina tried her best to negotiate the awkward footing silently. She groped along the concrete wall and cringed as her hand encountered a sticky patch. Her hand trembled as she wiped it quickly on her pants.

“Jen, where are you!”...

Below them Mocha’s reanimated corpse searched for food as his clouded mind, forever in the fog of hunger, painfully cried to be fed. He walked in circles as his remaining arm grabbed at whatever came within reach. His basal cortex reencountered each corner of the stairwell alcove as if it were its first. The cerebellum was now to far damaged to support short term memory and what had been his long term memory was now disjointed and meaningless. He saw the handle to the door and recognized it, but no longer knew how to use it, or what it was for. The constant confusion stimulated his primitive brain into incessant agitation. A fight or flight response skittered forever on the collapsed scaffolding that now supported his consciousness. He wanted to tear at anything which came his way.

He wandered aimlessly with his limited eyesight scanning the ground for anything which seemed edible. The amputated arm lay on the ground at his feet pointing at the door as if trying to escape the eerie quiet. Picking it up Mocha instinctively thrust it into his salivating mouth and bit savagely into the stiffening flesh of the forearm. He gnawed on the gristle muscle close to the elbow joint and threw it down unsatisfied. He was about to repeat the cycle of walking around the perimeter when he caught sight of a faint glow above him. Its gold tinged shimmering broke through his foggy vision like the moon peaking from behind a clouded sky. Then it moved, and so did he...

“Jen, I think he’s coming up after us!” Corina stood paralyzed with fear as she followed the rapidly approaching sounds in dismayed anticipation. “But how? He was dead! He died! Dead people don’t come back.” Corina’s voice began to rise as panic settled in, and somewhere down below an excited growl slapped her back to reality. She had become disoriented in the dark and stretched out her arm feeling for anything as reference for direction. She found the next tread and began to step up as the lights in the stairwell flickered for a moment. Her footing slipped as the momentary flash stole her night vision and fell down the stairs to the next landing. She landed hard on her tail bone and felt the world go fuzzy for a moment but quickly fought off the impending unconsciousness.

A hand reached out and violently grabbed her, it pulled at her clothing trying to gain a hold of her. When it finally did she was pulled brutally to her feet and upwards, it was Jen! Corina was just about to thank her when Mocha’s form exploded from the darkness. The placid expression he wore in his final moments was now replaced by a grimace of raging hunger. He lunged at her disappearing feet as Jen pulled her to safety. Corina lost track of their progress as they took two steps at a time, even though she was out of breath Jen pulled her onward through the endless stairwell. With every step her heart sank further as she could hear Mocha matching their frantic pace with his heavy footfalls.

Up ahead she could start to make out the faint red and white glow of the exit sign. Jen and Corina slammed into the steel door as their momentum carried them painfully forward. Corina quickly moved out of the way as Jen tried to open the door. It stopped partially open as Mocha stood barring their exit.

As their eyes adjusted to the faint light which trickled in they could fully see Mocha for the first time. Now grey with cataracts his irises swam in a see of bloodshot whites as they locked unblinking on their targets. His face was now a pale ashen hue and deep lines of age creased across his once handsome countenance. His mouth agape exposed bright teeth against a background of a darkening gum line as his tongue rolled in a puddle of drool in anticipation of a meal. Corina could now see the slew of bite marks across his chest where she had opened his shirt, and his medium sized frame now appeared gaunt and frail. The stump of his arm now pushed at the door in an attempt to close it and prevent their escape. Jen pulled the revolver out fired a round into Mocha’s puckered chest. He fell backwards and tumble head over heals to the flight below.

They could hear his footsteps coming up the stairs as they closed the door and looked for a way to lock it, there was none. Corina could hear the alternating Thwack! Smoosh... as his fist and stump assailed the door. She hoped that his mental state mirrored his lifeless appearance and that he wouldn’t find the door handle. Jen searched through the various lumber and construction materials which littered the main hallway and found a crow bar resting on a pile of drywall. With a wide swing she lodged the flatted wedge between the door and its jamb. “Let’s hope it holds... C’mon let’s get out of here!”

The main hallway was now an abstract work of dark art. Bloody foot prints strayed in and out of large puddles of red and crimson smears streaked the walls. In one spot she thought she could make out a face print from a brutal impact. They walked slowly to the main entrance weary of what surprises might be waiting. The frat house was one giant murder scene as bits and pieces of tissue littered the unfinished floor.

Both Jen and Corina jumped as footsteps pounded across the floor above followed by a muffled scream. Corina thought that she could hear shouts for help drifting from the cracked plaster ceiling. They walked to the front door and peaked into the two adjoining rooms which were empty except for signs of a vicious struggle. The late morning sun illuminated the house giving it a disturbed quality. Once again the image of a warped fun house strayed through her mind.

Corina was at the front door when a large crash shook the old building. “Jen please... let’s go!” Jen turned from the front room and headed for the door. She covered her gun with her sweater and pulled out Andre’s lighter. Igniting the Zippo she tossed into a pile of saw dust and waste lumber just outside the side room as she exited the building. The dry wood shavings immediately caught fire and were quickly consumed as Corina and Jen reached the street.

"Why the hell did you do that Jen?” Corina’s voice was a shrill with distress. “There were still people upstairs! We... we could have helped them...” She looked on in shock, her voice trailing off as a light smoke began to trickle from the open door.

“They were all dead anyways! They just didn’t know it yet.” Within Jen’s eyes a fire now burned far hotter than the flames which would soon consume the Omega Psi Phi house. They were from the fire of determination that raged within...