Free Contamination Prequel (Post-Apocalyptic Zombie Series) by T.W. Piperbrook Page A

Quinn yelled.
    The door slammed shut. Dan held his breath, listening to the man approach. The senior officer couldn’t be more than ten feet away, on the other side of the locker room wall. Dan pressed his cheek against a row of lockers, the metal cold against his cheek.
    The footsteps ceased. The echoes tapered off, and the station fell silent.
    Had he been spotted on the cameras? Was Howard aware that he was in the station—maybe even aware of his location in the locker room?
    Inside the lockers, just inches away, were spare weapons, as well as ammunition. He could make a move for them, but the senior officer would be on him before he could use the keys. Silence permeated the station, and he felt his heart thudding in his chest.
    Something vibrated in his pocket, and then Dan’s cellphone began to ring.
    Shit , he thought.
    The tone echoed through the locker room and beyond, betraying any cover he may have had. He slipped the phone out of his pocket, hitting the silent button and looking at the faceplate.
    It was Howard placing the call.
    The footsteps in the hallway resumed, this time headed right for the locker room.

    “Dan?” Howard’s voice echoed from the hallway.
    Dan had slipped to the end of the lockers to the right of the entrance, wedging himself between the shelf and the wall. Howard had entered the doorway, and was now only ten feet away. Dan heard the sound of fabric creasing as the officer bent down to pick something up off the ground. He must have found my cellphone , he thought. It was a last resort. Perhaps if the officer found the phone, he would think it had been left there.
    “I know you’re in here, Dan.”
    No such luck .
    Dan tightened his grip on the baton, holding the base in the crook of his elbow, clinging desperately to the smooth black handle. He looked across the room. A single stall and a urinal were in the corner opposite him. Next to them was a small shower, the curtain drawn. A single wooden bench stood in the middle of the room. There were only a few places for the senior officer to check. Either way, once Howard stepped into the room, Dan’s hiding place would be revealed.
    “I don’t have time for this shit,” Howard yelled. He hit the side of the lockers, rattling the contents, sending vibrations through to the other end and into Dan’s cheek. “I tried to do you a favor, you know? For old time’s sake.”
    Dan clenched his teeth, felt his body tighten. The senior officer took a few steps forward. He was in the room now.
    “I even found your ungrateful daughter.”
    Dan leapt from his hiding spot toward the senior officer, swinging the baton sideways with all of his might. Howard turned in anticipation, blocking the blow with his left forearm, and then countered with a blow from his right fist. The punch connected with Dan’s ribcage, and he sprawled to the floor next to the wooden bench. He rolled underneath it to the other side, shards of pain running up his side like glass.
    Howard grabbed at the underside of the bench, lifting it upwards and into the air. It collapsed on its side, striking Dan on the way down. The officer’s biceps rippled under his shirt, his face twisted in anger.
    “Am I going to have to kill you myself?” he asked.
    Dan glared at him from the floor, still clutching the baton. His back was pressed against the lockers, and pain shot through his body. Howard took a step towards him, straddling the overturned bench.
    “Why are you doing this?” Dan wheezed.
    “You’ve done this to yourselves! Every last one of you!” the senior officer screamed. “You deserve it!”
    Howard grunted, and then reached down to grab him. Dan swung the baton forward, connecting with the senior officer’s knee. Howard cried out in pain, doubling over as his leg caved inwards.
    “Motherfucker!”
    Dan forced himself to stand, heading around the bench and towards the exit. He could hear Quinn screaming his name from down the hall.
    “Quinn—I’m coming!” he