chapter 12

Chapter 12: Trapped Under Steel

The lights inside the warehouse flickered twice and died completely.

A heavy, low groan shook the concrete floor as the city's main power grid finally collapsed. Two seconds later, the automatic backup diesel generator kicked in with a deafening roar, shaking the metal ductwork overhead.

Before I could even catch my breath, a shrill, pulsing alarm shrieked from the security console.

A red warning light flashed on the monitor: ALARM: NORTH ALLEY CARGO SHUTTER — MECHANICAL JAM, 50% OPEN.

My stomach dropped into my shoes. The backup generator had surged during startup, throwing the heavy chain-drive off its gear. The massive steel loading shutter on the alley side—the side facing the open street where the infected were currently roaming—was stuck wide open.

If we didn't drop that door right now, the noise of the generator would draw every monster within a three-block radius straight into our living space.

I grabbed my taser, bolted down the metal stairs from the control room, and rushed across the ground floor.

Derrick was standing beside the camp cot, kneeling over Maya as she slept. He looked up the second my boots hit the concrete, his face locked in a hard, suspicious scowl.

"What's that noise?" Derrick demanded, his voice sharp. "What just broke?"

"The backup generator surge jammed the main alley cargo shutter," I said quickly, grabbing a heavy iron pry bar from the tool rack. "It's stuck half-open. The noise is going to bring every infected thing on the avenue straight to our door. I need to force the manual release gear, but it's jammed in the housing."

Derrick stood up slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't move an inch toward the door.

"Let me guess," Derrick said, his tone dripping with bitter sarcasm. "You bought some cheap, second-hand military surplus scrap metal to save a buck, and now it's falling apart."

"The gear is jammed because the chain derailed from the power surge," I snapped back, my patience wearing thin. "I don't have time to argue with your ego, Derrick. If you want to keep your sister safe from what's crawling around out there, grab your heavy socket wrench and help me winch the chain back onto the sprocket before they smell us."

Derrick stared at me, his dark eyes filled with absolute stubborn defiance. For a second, I thought he was going to turn his back and let the door stay open just to spite me.

Then he glanced down at Maya. She stirred on the cot, letting out a weak, feverish moan in her sleep.

The anger in Derrick's face twisted into a grim, defeated scowl. He walked past me without a word, snatched a heavy breaker bar and a pair of leather work gloves from his tool chest, and marched toward the jammed loading shutter.

"Don't think I'm doing this for you," Derrick growled, slamming his wrench against the metal housing. "I'm doing it so my sister doesn't get torn apart in her sleep."

"Just get the bolt loose," I said, shining my tactical flashlight directly into the dark, tangled machinery box above the door.

The heavy steel shutter was stuck about four feet off the ground—just high enough for a crawling or crouching infected human to squeeze right under into our staging room. Outside in the dark alley, we could already hear the wet, dragging footsteps and low, rattling growls of something moving past our fence.

Derrick jammed his bar into the primary gear assembly, throwing his massive weight against it. His muscles strained under his shirt, the thick veins bulging in his arms as he fought against the rusted iron teeth.

"It's rusted shut inside the housing!" Derrick yelled over the roar of the generator. "Hold the flashlight steady so I can see the release pin!"

I leaned in closer, holding the beam steady on the rusted pin just above his hands.

Suddenly, a loud, rotting shriek echoed from right outside the alley gate.

Something slammed hard against the outer corrugated steel fence with a metallic crash. Maya woke up with a start, letting out a sharp, terrified cry from the corner.

"Derrick, hurry!" I shouted.

"I'm trying!" he roared, driving his wrench hard into the gear.

With a loud clank, the rusted pin finally gave way. But the sudden release was too violent. The heavy steel shutter above us slipped off its safety catch, dropping three feet in a fraction of a second with hundreds of pounds of dead weight!

Before Derrick could pull his arm back, the heavy iron gear slammed down, pinning his right forearm hard against the concrete floor beneath the frame.

"Ahhh!" Derrick gasped, his face turning instantly pale as he was trapped flat on his stomach on the ground.

"Derrick!" I dropped my flashlight and lunged forward, grabbing the edge of the heavy steel frame, trying with all my strength to lift it off his arm. But it was too heavy. It didn't budge an inch.

At that exact second, a pair of bloody, dirt-caked hands shot through the gap beneath the half-open door.

An infected runner, smelling the fresh blood and hearing our struggle, slid its torso flat under the steel shutter, its jaws snapping open and shut just inches from Derrick's face!