Wasteland Wanderer: Biohazard Chapter 05 (Early Preview)

Chapter 05: Up and Out

The Bar

“Back door! Move!” Kevin shouted, already making for the rear exit. He flung it open, only to stop cold. Figures were closing in from the alley, limbs jerking unnaturally. One moved faster than the rest.

Kevin fired. The round hit the head, but more kept coming from behind. He slammed the door and shut the deadbolt. Kevin was sure that it wouldn’t hold long against a horde beating down on it. The officer looked around and grabbed a large enough cabinet to wedge it against the door. “There’s more in the alley!”

The Courier turned to the group. “Grab something. Kitchen, supply closet. Whatever you can use.”

Chairs scraped. People scattered to grab weapons like knives and meat mallets.

Someone rattled the stairwell door. “It’s locked!”

The Courier was about to reach for his lockpick when Will stepped forward. “The key behind the bar, left of the register!”

The Courier was already jumping over the bar counter. He looked under and spotted the key. “Got it!” He bolted back to the door and opened it. “Everyone up!”

George and Mark were already hauling Bob, who could barely hold his own weight. The man looked worse by the minute. Mark kept one arm braced across his back. “Stay with us, Bob.”

The others ran to supposed safety. In the rush, Cindy slipped and fell.

“I’ve got you.” The Courier caught her by the arm and helped her to the stairs. 

“Thanks…” Cindy was trembling, but nodded and moved with them. 

The glass windows finally gave way as the last of the group scrambled up. The Courier yanked the door shut behind them.

Stairway

The survivors could still hear the grunts and moans behind them.

Kevin nudged people to keep moving up. "They are already inside the bar. We need to increase our distance."

Alyssa pushed past him. "No complaints to that."

The staircase led to a narrow hallway. A bronze statue perched atop a small wooden cabinet.

"Where to now?" Mark asked, still supporting Bob's weight against his shoulder.

"There has to be a fire escape." The Courier moved cautiously forward. "Everyone, stay close."

David King checked a door on the left. "Locked."

The group shuffled forward. The Courier took point.

When Alyssa walked past a window, it shattered as a zombie lunged at her. In her brief shock, she quickly started stabbing it in the face with a knife, but she was missing the brain.

The Courier didn't hesitate. His revolver round punched through the zombie's forehead. 

Its grip on Alyssa released, and she quickly backed away from the body. “Oh, fuck!”

"Jesus Christ." Jim backed away, hands trembling.

Yoko covered her mouth, eyes wide over her fingers.

After confirming it was dead, Kevin looked outside the window. Sure enough, there were dozens of the creeps roaming the street. "Holy shit.”

The Courier reloaded. "Keep moving before they box us in."

George looked at Bob. "We need to find help fast. He's getting worse."

"Help won’t matter if we're eaten first, so move. Now!"

Floor 2

Kevin took point as the group climbed the narrow stairwell. Halfway up, a shape staggered into view at the top landing, an infected man.

Kevin raised his pistol and fired. The body dropped backward with a thud.

They kept moving. Just before Kevin reached the landing, the window beside him shattered inward. Another corpse lunged through the broken frame and clawed toward him.

Kevin turned and fired again. The zombie's head snapped back and died. "Clear.”

They moved into the hallway. Kevin tried to open the door to the next set of stairs, but it was locked. "Damn it. Will! Where's the key?"

Will racked his brain to remember. "Could be... upstairs office? Maybe the Break Room?"

Kevin turned. "Fan out. We need that key. And anything else that's useful. Move."

The group split. Some stuck close together, others peeled off into nearby rooms. The Courier was the last to enter the main room. After some looting, if they didn’t find the key, he would pick it himself. In another room, he found a desk near a refrigerator with a portable nail gun. While the Courier had his own from back home, he wasn’t going to say no to an extra. Checking the magazine, it was thankfully fully loaded with nails.

Mark moved toward the western wall. "Got something here." He held up a red herb from one of the shelves. "Different from the green ones downstairs."

Jim checked under the bed in the corner. "Hey!" He pulled out an iron pipe, testing its weight. "Better than nothing."

The Courier nodded. "Keep searching."

Next, they went to the drawing room. The door creaking triggered something by the window. A dark form broke through the glass. An infected crow dove toward David's face.

The Courier's revolver dropped the bird mid-flight.

"Even the birds are infected?" Cindy whispered.

“Seems so. Who knows what else might catch it.”

Alyssa approached a locked wardrobe. She pulled an S-shaped pick from her pocket and worked it into the keyhole. 

The Courier walked by to inspect her skill. “Don’t you know your way around a pick. You do this often?”

“I’ve had to open a few secure areas during one of my investigations before to get classified documents. This is the first time I’m just looking for supplies.”

“You get used to it.”

The lock clicked. "Got it." She pulled the door open, revealing a handgun inside.

The Courier appreciated the find. “Ain’t you lucky.”

Alyssa picked it up and inspected it. “The monsters outside beg to differ.”

"You know how to use that?" Kevin asked.

Alyssa cleared the chamber and checked the magazine. "I'll manage."

The owner's room was next. Movement on the balcony caught their attention. A zombie pawed at the glass door.

"I've got it." The Courier shot, and the corpse collapsed against the railing.

Cindy pushed past. "More herbs out here." She gathered several plants from pots along the balcony. “If we have time, I think I can make some medicine, if we need.”

“Think it will help against whatever these monsters have?”

“We can only hope…”

Inside, the Courier examined the desk, pulling open drawers. “Crap. Crap. More Crap. Huh…” Something about the bottom drawer looked off. The size didn't match. "Hidden compartment?" With a grunt, he gripped the edges and pulled. Wood splintered as the false bottom broke open, revealing a shotgun.

Kevin whistled. "Now that's useful."

“More guns are always useful.” The Courier then handed it to Kevin.

“You sure?” 

“I got my own.”

“If you say so.” Kevin secured it to his back.

The locker room yielded more supplies. George pulled open the fourth locker from the left. "Wooden pole here." He handed it to Mark.

Cindy checked the second locker. "Anti-viral pills." She pocketed them quickly. "These might help Bob."

In the recreation area, the Courier lifted a newspaper from the table, revealing a key with a blue tag underneath.

"That's it," Will said. "That's the key to the storage stairwell."

The Courier returned to the Break Room, searching quickly for any cabinets or drawers. Most were empty or useless. They found some more of those herbs. Another shelf behind the vending machine caught their eye. Something metal glinted between a box of plastic forks and a roll of paper towels. They reached in and pulled out a small, labeled tag: Storage Room Key.

The Courier turned back into the hallway. As they stepped past the entrance, he noticed a stack of wooden planks leaning beside the doorway. After everyone had gone through, he started to barricade the doorway using the nail gun from before

In the recreation area, Cindy lifted a newspaper from the table, revealing a key with a blue tag underneath. “Are you serious!?” The group was looking everywhere, only to find it under the trash.

"That's it," Will said. "That's the key."

Kevin didn't hesitate. "Good. Let's move."

They regrouped fast and pushed up the next flight of stairs.

Floor 3

They stepped into what seemed to be the Liquor Room. At the far end, a rolling shutter blocked access to the rooftop stairwell.

The civilians ran to the door and tried to open it. 

Kevin tried to pull it up to no avail. "No getting through here."

Jim Chapman nodded toward the corner. "There's a forklift we can use. Think we can break down the door with it?"

David inspected the doorway. “Naw. It wouldn’t have enough horsepower to break through the steel shutters.”

Jim checked out the forklift. “Damn, even if it could, we need the key.”

The Courier groaned. “I’m starting to get tired of these locks.” Feels way too much like back in Vegas.

They looked around for some other way out, and Cindy spotted something. "There's a vent up there.”

Alyssa stepped beside her. "If someone can reach that, they can crawl over to the stairwell. It runs above the shutter."

Will nodded. “There should be a release latch on the other side.”

Kevin followed her gaze. "We'll need something to climb. Crates could work."

"We need the key," Kevin said. "Split up. Check the Wine Room."

"Wait. No need for the forklift. Those barrels reach high enough." The Courier pointed to the stacked wine barrel storage along the wall. "I can climb up from there and reach the vent." Before anyone could object, the Courier scaled the wooden racks. Within seconds, the Courier had reached the height of the vent. "Cover me.”

The survivors watched as the Courier pried the cover off and ducked inside. 

The Courier reached the far side within moments. Dropping down, he turned the corner and found the shutter from the other side. Flipping a switch, the shutter raised, allowing him and the rest to continue upward.

Rooftop

The rooftop door opened, and they stepped into the night. They could hear the distant screams of people who were likely in a similar situation and being chased. Kevin tried to radio the RPD again, but he wasn’t getting a reply.

Dozens of crows could be seen at the far end of the roof. The moment the group showed themselves, the birds took flight and went right for them.

"Get down!" Kevin raised his pistol and fired at the first one that came close.

Infected crows descended in waves. One dove straight for Cindy's face.

The Courier's shot dropped it mid-flight.

"Everyone, stay low!" Kevin squeezed off three rapid shots as more birds swooped down.

The Courier and Kevin stood back-to-back, guns raised at the circling flock. A crow plunged toward Jim, who swung wildly with his pipe. The Courier's bullet caught it before it could connect.

"They're coming from behind too!" Alyssa shouted.

Kevin spun, firing twice. Two birds dropped. "These things must be like the others!"

Alyssa raised her newly acquired handgun. She tracked a crow diving toward David, squeezed the trigger, and killed it.

"Not bad," Kevin called out.

"Girl’s gotta defend herself to get a scoop." She tracked another bird.

Mark swung a wooden pole, killing a crow. "Keep them off the others!"

David had positioned himself near Yoko and George, swiping at the birds with a wrench. "Stay behind me!"

Jim connected with one, finally. The metal pipe knocked a crow from the air. "Got you, you little bastard!"

Cindy and Will huddled together, fending off the birds. When one came too close, Will blasted it with a short burst of foam from an extinguisher, disorienting it long enough for Cindy to stab it with a knife.

The Courier reloaded as more crows dove. VATS activated. Three targets. Three shots. Three kills.

Kevin whistled, impressed. “Damn. That quickdraw of yours is cutthroat.”

“Think you can catch up?”

“You’re looking at the R.P.D. shooting tournament runner-up

“Just runner-up?”

“Shut up… Chris and Jill swept us under the rug.”

Alyssa fired twice. She missed her first shot but corrected quickly, dropping another crow that had been diving toward Bob and Mark. "I'm starting to get the hang of this!"

A cluster of birds descended on their right flank. Kevin shouted a warning as he fired into the group, taking down two. 

The Courier pivoted, catching another with their revolver. The remaining birds veered off, only to circle back toward George.

David intercepted one with his wrench, while Alyssa picked off another right through the bird's head.

"Keep it up!" Kevin encouraged, firing at a crow that had landed on a nearby vent and was preparing to attack again.

The shooters continued to pick them off. After a dozen more shots, the remaining crows retreated to find easier prey.

For the moment, the rooftop was theirs.

"Is everyone okay?" Kevin asked, checking his ammunition.

The Courier scanned the group. No one appeared injured, though several looked shaken.

Just as they turned the corner near a low brick wall, Bob groaned. His legs gave out beneath him.

Mark caught him, easing him to the ground. "Bob?"

"I can't move anymore." Bob's voice was strained. "I know me, and I'm not gonna become someone else's burden." He reached toward his gun.

"Bob, stop!" Mark grabbed his wrist.

"You don't understand, Mark. I'm no different from them. I feel it. The hunger."

The others took an uneasy step back. Even Kevin was unsure about what to do. 

The Courier approached with his gun and inspected Bob. He could see it in the eyes. He was fading. A familiar weight settled in his chest. This wasn't new territory. Back in the Mojave, mercy was sometimes the only medicine left. An NCR Private riddled with Legion bullets outside Nelson. A ranger mangled by a deathclaw. A woman he'd found half-conscious in a Legion torture cage. With no auto-doc nearby, just a stim-pack wouldn’t be enough to save them.

Bob knew exactly what was happening to him, what he was becoming.

Bob looked at him, then at Mark. "S...so please let me die while my... conscience remains."

The Courier gave a small nod. "I'll do it, so you don't have to."

Mark stepped between them. "There's got to be another way!"

Bob didn't flinch. "Look into my eyes, Mark. I'm becoming one of them. I don't want anyone to see me like that."

"Bob…"

Bob turned to the rest of the group. "Hold him back."

David moved first, gripping Mark's right arm. Kevin took the other. Mark struggled.

"Stop! You can't let this happen!"

David didn't look at him. "If this is what Bob wants, who are we to stop him?"

Kevin's voice was quiet. "I don't like it either, but look at him. He's been getting worse all day. If he turns up here…"

The Courier motioned to a shaded spot beside the wall. "Sit there. Just rest for a moment." They knelt beside Bob, helping him settle into a more comfortable position. The Courier had done this before. It was best to make the last moments count.

Bob nodded. He leaned back against the wall and stretched his legs.

The Courier gently adjusted Bob's collar. He could see the black veins spreading beneath his skin. There wasn't much time.

"I don't know you," Bob whispered, "but thank you."

The Courier squeezed his shoulder. "Close your eyes," they said. "Think of your happiest memory."

"What's your name?" Bob asked.

“I forgot my birth name, but you can just call me Six.”

Bob nodded. "If that’s the case, can you do me a favor and remember mine?"

"I will," the Courier promised.

Bob exhaled slowly. "I see it. My daughter's birthday. We were all there. My wife made a cake. She was laughing. I can hear it…"

The Courier placed a hand on Bob's forehead. With their other hand, he raised the pistol.

The others looked away. Will, Jim, George, Alyssa, Yoko, and Cindy. No one spoke.

A single shot rang out.

The bullet struck cleanly between the eyes. Bob never opened them again.

David and Kevin let go. Mark dropped to his knees beside the body.

"Oh, Bob… BOB!"

The Courier holstered the weapon. They all stood silently, giving Mark his moment to grieve. In the Mojave, there had rarely been time for that in the middle of a fight. Who knows how many others couldn’t have the same this night.