Autolysis

Part 2

Warriors stared at the old, water-stained map on the wall. At one point the ceiling sprung a leak and water cascaded down, seeping through the map's plastic covering. Half of the map was readable, the other half a brown, illegible mess. Warriors pointed to to the edge of where the mess met the clean part of the map. "It's hard to tell, but I think this is the professor's office. Four floors up."

Time shone his flashlight down the hall. No zombies in sight, though the floor and walls bore signs of violence. Fingernail scratches on the wall, old blood splatters staining the floor, and judging from the streaks, someone was dragged into another room and the door was closed after.

The stairs were blocked with debris. Someone had dropped file cabinets, book shelves, and every chair in the university into the stairwell. It was an efficient blockade, and Time took a moment to marvel at how impressive it was. This would definitely stop a lot of zombies.

Warriors was not as impressed. He groaned when he saw it. "Ugh, are all the stairwells going to be like this? We don't have time to dismantle them."

"Then we take an alternative route," said Time.

"Climb the building?"

"Take the elevator."

On their person they carried a multitude of items. Besides protective clothing, they each carried two guns, extra ammo, a hunting knife, a flashlight, a watch, and a compass. These were necessary items that no hunter should ever go without. Unfortunately every item added more weight than one would realize, and if they wanted more stuff, it would be up the individual. To be caught by a horde because you were too laden with junk was a humiliating way to go.

Warriors carried binoculars, hand wipes, candy bars, and a bottle of water. Time carried a crowbar.

Time stuck the crowbar into the seam of the elevator doors, forcing it open. It groaned like a ship suddenly grounded upon shore, the high pitch setting Time's teeth on edge. He opened the doors wide enough to slip through.

"No zoms," Warriors said, flashing his light down the hallway. "Good sign with all that noise."

"Don't drop your guard," Time said as he climbed inside the elevator shaft. The elevator was on another level, high above their heads. Ironically the last movie Time watched before the world went to shit had a scene of an elevator dropping fifty floors and exploding. Unrealistic, yet Time felt the trickle of unease on the back of his neck as he stared upwards. He tore his eyes away and located the ladder on the far wall. "There, let's go."

Elevator ladders were designed for maintenance workers, people who would have specialized equipment to help them maneuver, not for two men dressed like army rejects. The climb was slow and uncomfortable, the thick metal reams digging into the middle of their boots, concentrating their entire weight into one area. If the zombies didn't hear Time forcing the doors open, they certainly will hear their labored breathing.

They got to a set of closed elevator doors. "Is this floor four?" Time asked.

Warriors shined his light across the wall, unable to locate the floor number. "Don't know, don't care. Open it."

Time locked his leg around the rung and let himself hang, jamming the crowbar in. Thanks to the odd, uncomfortable angle, opening took more effort. Time gritted his teeth. The door groaned and squealed. They suddenly opened, and two zombies rushed forward, arms reaching out, mouths wide open.

The first zombie toppled over its own feet and went head over heels past Time. Warriors felt its desperate fingers scrape against the back of his jacket as it fell. The zombie struck the bottom floor and shattered on impact like an egg, limbs and bodyparts exploding outward.