go check on him.” Ken skipped back to the room before she could let him have it. He loved teasing Lenore. It was more fun than he cared to admit. Though she would grumpily respond, he could tell she liked it as much as he did. He pressed himself against the wall and shouted into the crack.
“ Hey, Mr. Cloy!”
It took a moment, but Mr. Cloy’s eye and bushy mustache came into view beyond the narrow fissure in the wall. “They’re up to the second door now.”
Ken inhaled sharply and listened for a moment. What he had thought was Mr. Cloy trying to get a bar out of the window was the dead actually beating on the door. “Oh, shit. Are you ready?”
“ Almost got the second one out. I should be able to crawl out after that. Give me five minutes.”
“ Do you have five minutes?”
“ Dunno. Done wasting time. See you up top,” Mr. Cloy answered, then vanished from view.
Trying not to wring his hands or run like a Nancy boy, Ken dashed out into the living room, feeling panic welling up inside of him. “They’re about to bust into the storage room. We need to get up on top!”
“ Aw, shit. I hate today.”
Together they climbed the narrow staircase to the roof. Lenore muttered about it being too narrow, but Ken shushed her. He could feel his nerves getting the best of him and his hands were shaking. The old stairway was supposed to be for maintenance and it was musty and dusty. He never used it and he felt embarrassed with his lack of housekeeping. They reached the roof and he shoved open the door.
The small town swam into view and he felt overwhelmed by the bright, glaring sunlight. He shaded his eyes. What looked like a quiet serene Texas town at first blush soon revealed itself to be a place of death and destruction. A building was burning on the edge of town and in the streets people were running, screaming, and attacking each other. Car crashes littered intersections and somewhere nearby a woman was screaming.
It was hell.
“ I really hate today,” Lenore muttered.
Together they hurried to the edge of the building and peered down at the small storage room that lay flush against Ken’s building. There was no sign of Mr. Cloy.
“ Mr. Cloy! Mr. Cloy!” Their voices were a chorus and Ken noted his voice sounded quite high next to Lenore’s. His stomach churned and he felt his hands shaking as he gripped the edge of the building.
Mr. Cloy finally appeared and struggled to worm his way out of the window. The fit was tight.
“ C’mon, Mr. Cloy!” They both started shouting encouragement and waving at him as if it would somehow help.
Mr. Cloy’s face tilted upward and they saw he had a look of pure terror on his face. That one look said it all. The zombies were about to break into the storage room. Gripping the wall, Mr. Cloy tried desperately to slide through the bars. His stomach finally squeezed through and he fell onto the roof.
“ Hurry, hurry!” Ken’s voice reflected his fear and he swallowed hard to avoid vomiting.
Lenore had already secured the rope around a pipe sticking out of roof, and she tossed the line down to Mr. Cloy. He reached out with eager hands to grasp it. Behind him, battered hands and twisted, bloodied faces appeared in the window.
Wrapping the makeshift rope around his wrist, Mr. Cloy said, “Pull me up!”
Ken and Lenore heaved him up. Mr. Cloy was surprisingly heavy in spite of his skinny frame. The muscles in Ken’s arms and shoulders strained with the weight. Abruptly the rope went slack and Ken and Lenore both fell to the roof.
Shocked, they scrambled to their feet and looked over the edge of the roof to see Mr. Cloy lying on top of the storage room. Breathing heavily, he gave them a small wave.
“ I can’t join you, kids,” Mr. Cloy said in a ragged voice as he tried to catch his breath. He pointed toward his leg, then lifted his pant cuff.
“ Oh, shit,” Lenore whispered.
Fresh tears sprung to Ken’s eyes as huge gouges in Mr. Cloy’s flesh
The Science of Leonardo: Inside the Mind of the Great Genius of the Renaissance