by Rosaria, A.
Sarah’s bones popped as she stood up. Vance and Priss slept in each other’s arms. She didn’t want to admit it, but in any other situation, they would be a cute couple. She woke Spacey. Dazed, unfocused eyes looked up. She whispered in his ear, “If you’re in there, it’s time for you to wake up.”
“Space.”
“Guess not.” She sighed. She returned to her spot and stopped dead in her tracks. In front of the tunnel, a thick-shouldered bald white humanoid thing flashed into view, its blazing red eyes straight on her. “Loudmouth,” escaped her lips. She raised the P90 and shot. The wight dashed to the side. Sarah shot again. Missed. The creature slunk away from the tunnel. Sarah shot before it could scatter. A bullet clipped its right shoulder as it got out of sight.
“What the hell?” Priss yelled. “Sarah, what’s going on?”
“Stay put.”
“Where are you?”
Priss kneeled, rifle aimed ahead in her direction.
“Priss, lower your gun before you shoot me.”
Priss cried out and dropped her rifle. Vance kneeled down and patted the ground for the rifle, grabbed it, and held it pointed down.
“Okay, guys, drop down against the wall and stay out of the way.”
Spacey was already hugging the wall with his machete clenched in his fist. For now, they were no use to her. It was pitch-black inside. Damn, if only she had hit the wight. She lay down and used her backpack for support.
“What’s going on?” Priss asked.
“It found us.”
“Oh my God, we need to run.”
“No. Not this time. We stand and fight.”
“How? We can’t see a thing.”
“I can. Now please, shut up.”
She waited, but Loudmouth, the newly made wight, didn’t show its ugly face. He must have devoured Becky and Nancy whole to become what he was now. He was the one who attacked their pursuers. He must have gorged on them too. Sarah wondered if it could walk under the sun. Her mind drifted, and one second too late she noticed the white shape rushing inside the tunnel. By the time she aimed, the wight had crossed half the distance toward her.
Sarah forced herself not to shoot but to aim carefully. Quarter distance left. She breathed in and sent a burst at the moment the wight’s feet grazed the ground. It tried to sidestep, lost balance, and then the bullets shattered its knees. With an inhuman scream, it crashed down three feet in front of Sarah.
Sarah rose to her knees and shot again, shattering its spine. It lay limp on the ground. Its eyes opened and closed in unison with its snapping sharp teeth. Sarah rested the P90 over her shoulder and drew her revolver. She aimed and shot twice. The bullets tore into the wight’s head. She killed him when he was alive and now she destroyed him in death. To be sure it stayed down, Sarah stomped her boot on its head, pancaking it. She didn’t realize she was screaming until she stopped.
“Are you okay?”
Priss approached one unsteady step after another with both her hands pushing ahead in front of her. “Sarah? Where are you?”
“Stay where you are. I’m fine. I killed it.”
Priss jumped up a little. “You did what? You really did? That’s great. We are safe now.”
Sarah nodded, realized Priss couldn’t see her, and said, “Yes, we are safe.”
She felt relief wash over her. A scream went up from the other side of the tunnel. Sarah stiffened. The scream drew nearer. Another cry answered behind her, followed by another. No. Sarah shook her head. No. Her jaw clenched tight. Not now. The cries rose into the night and reverberated in the tunnel. More wights. Always more of them. Total bull crap.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Things went to the deepest pit of hell, and Sarah wondered if they could crawl back out. Sarah pressed Priss’s backpack in Vance’s hands. As he fumbled with the rifle and backpack, Sarah yanked the rifle away from him, and pushed it against Priss’s chest. “Grab his hand.”
Sarah held Priss’s hand while Priss held Vance’s; in this manner they snaked their way to Spacey. With his backpack strapped on and his machete clenched in his right hand, he was ready. Sarah placed his free hand on her shoulder. “Hold on.”
They sped toward the exit from which they had heard the single wight’s scream. One monster they could handle, but not in time to escape those coming from the rear. Outside, the moon and stars lit their surroundings up in an eerie blue.
“We can’t outrun them,” Vance said.
Sarah wanted to snap at him for stating the obvious, but they didn’t have time for that. Each wasted second brought them closer to a painful end.
“Keep your backs to the ridge and move to cover. Pick it off when it shows its face.” Sarah pointed at Vance. “Now it’s time to draw your gun.”
Sarah headed back to the tunnel.
“What about you?” Priss called after her.
“I’ll cover our backs.”
“But at least two are coming that way.”
Before entering the tunnel, Sarah faced her friend. “I know.” She fondled the goggles she wore. “I’m the only one who can see for some worth inside the tunnel. You’ll have your hands full against the one gunning for you. I have to stop the others from getting through or we all die.”
Priss pressed her lips together. That made her look way too cute and not fit for this world. Sarah knew better. The girl survived time and time again, getting back up after each setback. She was a survivor all right. She needed to understand this. “Priss, no more running.”
The short girl smiled despite terror gaining a place in her eyes. “No more running.”
Sarah headed back inside the tunnel and lay down in front of her backpack. She aimed her rifle where she expected the wights to enter. Going against two when she barely managed to kill one was insanity to its finest. They all must be crazy. She fidgeted in place. The distance this time was greater, but still, it was very iffy if she managed two before one got to her. She vowed that whatever happened to her, she would dish out enough damage to give Priss a surviving chance.
The hellish screams got nearer. Seconds passed. Her heart rate increased. Her hands started to sweat. She waited. The wights were silent. The only sound she heard was her own heavy breathing. She wiped her brow.
“Come on, you bastards.”
The silence weighed on her with each passing second. Sarah felt it press down. She shifted, throwing her aim off. Cursing, she steadied herself, to flinch again when the shooting started behind her. The sudden hard gun reports amplified in the tunnel, hurting her ears. The hair on her arms vibrated with the sound. Distracted, her eyes didn’t immediately register the two figures entering the tunnel. Death’s bony hand gripped her heart. They advanced way too fast.
She snapped the P90 to full auto and squeezed the trigger, spraying her clip empty. To her horror, both wights were still standing. The first one crossed half the distance while the second lagged, dragging a leg and both arms hanging limp and useless. The brunt of the bullets hit him, leaving the other almost undamaged. They were too close for her to have time to load a new clip.
Standing up, she drew her Ruger, aimed, and shot. The nearest wight dodged the first two shots, but the third hit its shoulder. It kept advancing. The fourth hit center chest and made it stagger to a stop. Sarah gripped her gun in both hands and needed a second to aim. The wight yanked its head aside, and the bullet tore its ear off. Her last bullet hit it in its throat, dropping it—incapacitated but not dead.
The second wight jumped over its fallen comrade. One arm dangled to its side, while to Sarah’s despair, the other one was functioning again. Claws slashed her way. Sarah ducked. The wight bashed Sarah, sending her flying. Her back hit the ground, the air exploding from her.
Sarah groaned as she tried to stand. She got kicked down. On the ground, Sarah crawled away. Clawed fingers latched on her ankle and yanked. She rolled on her back, pulling her knife, and slashed at the arm holding her, cutting deep into it. The creature didn’t let go.
Its other arm started to heal. Soon it would be over. The monster knew this and held on to Sarah’s ankle, waiting for when it could manipulate its other arm to tear and rend into her.
A little voice in her head announced it was all good, she went as far as she could go, and her sacrifice would offer Priss a chance to survive. She could let go now. Sarah gritted her teeth and screamed. No. She launched herself forward at the wight. It staggered back as she latched on to it. With one arm she held herself against it, with her knife hand she stabbed into its back. It screamed and flung Sarah off. Both its hands were back to functional.
Sarah crawled up. Her body hurt all over. She felt blood trickle down her ankle. The wight lunged forward. Sarah ducked. Too slow. A clawed hand hit her face, sending the goggles flying. Sarah heard the crunch of glass as it hit the wall and fell to the ground. She found herself surrounded in darkness. The only light came from the tunnel’s end. She rushed toward the light, knowing she stood no chance against the wight’s speed. The blow sent her flying forward. She bounced twice on the ground. Five more yards and she would have made it. Sarah crawled. She heard the wight’s steps behind her. Otherwise, they went silent. She shouldn’t hear one. The monster was toying with her.
Sarah ground her teeth in anticipation. The wight’s high-pitched scream rose as it drew nearer to her. It stopped suddenly, a gurgle escaping from its mouth. Its body crumpled to the ground with a wet thud right next to her, its dead eyes on Sarah. Hands grabbed her and dragged her up. A flashlight clicked on and shone straight into Spacey’s face. “Boo!” Mirth danced in his cold eyes. “Come on, we need to destroy them.”
He removed a bottle from his backpack and unscrewed the cap. She smelled kerosene. He poured it over the wight, drenching it. Spacey stuck a match and threw it on the pale corpse. With her nose covered against the smell of burning meat and rubbing the kerosene-laced smoke out of her eyes, she limped outside the tunnel. She found Priss and Vance standing over a wight sprawled on the ground, its brains splattered around it. Priss had shot it.
Spacey sauntered over and drenched the wight with kerosene. How necessary was this? She figured Spacey didn’t want to leave anything to chance. She couldn’t blame him for taking this precaution. Better to be sure now than regret it later.
“I think we need to stay the night,” Vance said.
Sarah doubted more wights would show up. However, this new life guaranteed nothing. “For once, I think you are right.”
Vance smirked. “Did I hear that?” He faced Priss and pointed at Sarah. “Did she just agree with me?”
“I think she just did.” Priss laughed. “Jeez, all this time we were fleeing while they were killable.”
Sarah didn’t want to burst her bubble by revealing her how close they came to die. “Guess we spend the night.”
“No,” Spacey said. He stood with his back straight, looking at them. “It’s not safe outside. Follow me.”
He went on the road.
“He’s bonkers crazy,” Vance said, “let him go.”
Sarah gathered her things and followed Spacey. Vance cursed, but when Priss followed, he came along, sulking. They left the picnic area behind them and went half a mile till they reached a fork in the road. To the left it kept going along the mountain ridge. The other way led to an open area.
Spacey took the right and followed a dirt path surrounded by shrubbery that ended in a steep, near unscalable mountain wall. A burned-out SUV stood parked there surrounded by charred corpses. There was little shelter here. Sarah wondered what these people had been doing here and how they died. There was nothing. She observed Spacey walk to the rock wall. They could have saved themselves the trip and stayed at the tunnel. It’s what you got for following a madman.
Sarah joined Spacey, who was standing in front of the rocky wall. “What now?”
His hand trembled as he touched the wall. There were tears in his eyes. “Now we go inside and face them.”
He pressed his hand against the wall and let go. The stone pushed out and then slid up, exposing a panel. The screen lit up with a logo of a wire-framed world with a sword going through it, under it in large lettering was written SPACE, and in lowercase in small print the whole name, Space Project Advancement Corpus Eternal. Spacey pressed his palm against the panel. A light scanned his hand. Peeking over his shoulder, Sarah saw his credentials pop up on the screen.
“Your name is Geon James?”
Spacey, or Geon James, entered a security code. As the light lit green, the stone slid back in place, covering the panel. Geon backed away. The wall pushed out and slid aside, revealing an area big enough to fit a large truck. Speechless, she looked on. Whatever this man was involved in could not be good if he owned a hidden lair.
With little choice left them, they followed Geon inside, too stunned to say or ask anything. Behind them, the door slid back in place. Sarah heard a humming sound and the ceiling lights went on. Geon went to a normal-sized door next to a large elevator. From his tight-fitting shorts, he fished out a flexible keycard. He swiped the keypad and pushed the door open to a staircase.
“Spacey, wait.” He entered the staircase. “Geon.” He kept descending. Sarah hurried after him. “Mr. James.”
He flashed a cocky smile that made him seem much younger.
“What’s this place?”
“SPACE.”
“Is it some nuclear bunker?”
Priss and Vance entered the staircase, as curious as she must be. Vance’s excitement set her off the wrong way.
“The entrance is not reinforced enough to be a nuclear bunker.”
“Who are you?”
“Lately I ask myself the exact same question.” Geon looked forlornly down the stairs. Sarah observed him retreating to where he could hide from whatever he was so scared to face. Whatever it was, it must have had a major impact to cause this kind of psychotic meltdown. Sarah grabbed his hand and squeezed. He squeezed back, then noticed their holding hands. Lucid again, he yanked it away.
“Stay or follow me. I don’t care.”
He descended the stairs. Vance rushed to follow. Sarah stepped in his way. “Guard the front while we go explore.”
“Oh please, bitch, I’m going down whether you like it or not.”
Geon stopped. “On second thought, only Sarah can come along.”
“I already said I’m going down whether you guys like it or not.”
Geon glared up at the younger man. “Try to and you will never come back up again.”
Sarah cleared the way and invited Vance to go ahead. He didn’t move.
“Remember what I told you,” Vance said to Sarah as he allowed Priss to pull him back. She remembered his little veiled threat all too well. Much ado about nothing. She followed Geon. He seemed to be his old scary self. Sarah wondered if when he faced whatever was down there, would the crazy benign version ever surface again? She wondered if exposure to a stressor could cure someone. She doubted that. Once you went crazy, you would always keep at least one foot firmly planted into the loopy side. Regression stayed a reality.
They kept descending the stairs, not stopping at any of the floors they passed. Sarah counted four when they reached the bottom. A thick metal door blocked the way. Next to it was a panel much like the one upstairs. Geon placed his hand on the panel and entered the code. Sarah heard the door unlock. Geon hesitated.
“We can do this tomorrow if you want to,” Sarah said.
“Who do you think I am? A scared little girl like you?”
“A broken man.”
Anger flickered in his eyes. Sarah forced herself not to flinch away. He pulled the lever, opening the door. They entered a small white room. Each side wall boasted a square-foot biohazard sign painted on it.
“Are you sure it’s safe?”
“In here, yes. Beyond that door, not so much.”
Another metal door blocked their way.
“Leave your guns behind.”
Sarah frowned at Geon. “No way.�
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“I can’t have you discharging a firearm inside.” Geon pointed at the door. “It’s dangerous.”
“Why come down here in the first place, then?”
He didn’t answer. He grabbed his left hand to make it stop trembling. “I need to see for myself.”
“See what?”
“Stop asking damned questions, stupid girl. Drop your guns or go back upstairs and leave me be.”
Sarah wanted to slap the loathsomeness out of him, but she knew if she tried with this man, it would end in a fight for life and death. She shouldn’t trust him. On more than one occasion he’d treated her horribly. Like forgetting to reveal that an underground compound was less than two miles away from the tunnel. He allowed her to risk everything while he knew about a great shelter nearby. Yet, she was curious and needed answers. Sarah dropped her guns.
“Keep your knife. You may need it.”
He opened the door. The room was dark, but she didn’t need to see, the smell of decay told her enough about what happened here. She turned to flee. The door shut and the lock fell in place. Around her, moaning rose from dead throats. She had not imagined regretting listening to the old bastard this soon. She brandished her knife and readied herself for her inevitable end, determined to sell herself costly.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sarah heard their shuffling steps draw nearer. She swayed her knife in front of her. The moans rose into a frenzy.
“Don’t move,” Geon’s voice whispered somewhere to her right.
“What the fuck is this?”
“Shut your mouth and eyes.
“Wha…”
“Do it now!”
The ceiling lights flickered on, the sudden flash blinding her. She cried out in surprise.
“Stupid girl. I told you to shut your eyes.”
Something heavy crashed into her. Air burst out of her lungs. As she wheezed in air, in came the putrid smell of the zombie. Her back hit the ground. Spots of light materialized in her vision. She crawled up. Three zombies in black uniforms materialized in front of her as her vision recovered. The same uniform the guards wore at the stronghold where she met Priss. Geon fought and downed two other zombie guards and was holding off a third.
