by Amy Miles
“Avery? Are you still awake?” He calls from the other side of the curtain.
“Yeah. I’m just thinking, Flynn.”
“I did a lot of that too. Not much else to do around here, you know? That can really get you in trouble, especially when I start to think about my home.”
“Where are you from?”
“Not here, that’s for sure!” I hear the rattling of his handcuffs as he rolls over. “I’ve bounced around a lot. Started out up near Maine and slowly worked my way south with a group. We got ambushed not far from DC and I took off with a couple of friends and my parents. There were a few doctors with us, so people liked to have them around. We made it all the way down to Virginia Beach before the raiders caught up to us.”
“What happened?” I try to shift so that I can get a better view of the hallway through the crack in my curtain but realize that my neck bracing is pulled one belt buckle too tight for that.
“We lost most of the group. Some were taken, but others died in the crossfire. After that, we ended up down in Charleston for a while. My mom and pops worked in the hospital there. The military grunts forced us to go through blood testing each day just to make sure we were clean. For a while, things ran smoothly. I made friends. Hell, we even went to school, not that it was legit or anything, but it was normal, you know? At least as normal as it could be.
Things went south pretty fast after that, though. There were a few of us who holed up in the school and fought it out when the soldiers were ambushed and the Dead Heads arrived. We took a stand and were finally starting to get somewhere, but the grownups screwed everything up and I got landed here.”
“What about your parents?”
“They didn’t make it.”
“I’m sorry.” I don’t really know what else to say. His story isn’t all that different than mine. Just a different place and a different time, but in the end we both lost everything.
In the silence that settles between us, I try to listen for any sounds that might help me to determine where we are. In the distance, I can detect the sound of voices, but they are muffled by a rattling in a vent. Glancing up, I stare at the small air vent near the far wall. It is too small to fit inside.
“You’ve been here for a while, right? What do you know about this place?” I ask.
There’s a rustling of covers as Flynn sits up. The telltale rattling of his handcuffs reminds me that he failed in his mission to free himself. The idea of being kept prisoner here is not something that I’m willing to accept.
“I know that this place runs like clockwork. You could set a watch by the soldiers doing their rounds if we had one. I’ve seen the same four doctors since I arrived, so they may be the only ones here. I don’t really know.”
“Anything else?” The curtain near the end of my bed sways gently in the current pushing down from the overhead vent. This facility is obviously running off a large generator.
Knowing the military, this is probably some secret facility buried deep underground in a self-sustaining bunker complete with more firepower than we can stand to fight against and an air scrubbing system to keep any airborne chemicals at bay. Perhaps that’s why these people have remained immune all this time. I wonder if they have even been topside to see the devastation.
“Well, I can tell you that the food tastes like dog crap.”
I can’t help but laugh at that one. “Yeah, I’m not much of a fan of hospital food myself. What’s the word on the newbies that arrived?”
When Flynn doesn’t answer, I roll my head to the side and see the curtain between us shift. There is a gentle padding of bare feet and then fingers wrap around the edge of the material and I catch my first glimpse of Flynn.
He looks to be no older than seventeen or eighteen, with large brown eyes, bushy eyebrows nearly lost to an unruly mop of hair that curls at his ears and nape of his neck. He has a thin nose with a slight kink in it that makes me wonder if he broke it at some point and a prominent Adam’s apple. His cheeks look shallow like he’s recently lost weight.
“Hey, neighbor,” he smiles then turns back to yank on his bed. It rolls a couple of inches closer. “How come you get the fancy green gown while I’m stuck with purple?”
“Matches my hair better.”
He smiles. “The pretty girls always get the good stuff.”
A blush rises in my cheeks and I clear my throat to diffuse his sudden discomfort when he realizes what he’s said. “So...the newbies?”
“Oh, right!” He smacks his forehead with his free hand. “I haven’t heard much. A few screams that tell me they are girls, but other than that, everything is pretty tight lipped around here.”
Looking down at his wrist, I see a plastic tag with the number 89 and remember that Dr. Wiemann called me patient 67. “What number are they up to?”
“Pushing 100 by now, I would think. You’ve been here the longest from what I can tell.”
“What happened to the one before me?”
Flynn looks away and I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs.
“Right, well I’m not letting that happen to us. I promise.”
“You seem pretty sure of yourself for a girl strapped to a bed like someone in a psych ward.”
I smile and lift my right hand a few inches off the bed to look at my restraints. “I never was too keen on jewelry. It doesn’t really suit my style.”
Flynn blinks a couple of times and then chuckles. It starts off small but then builds into a hearty laugh. “I like that.”
“Glad I can amuse you.” Lowering my arm when I begin to feel too weak to hold it upright, I glance up at the IV. Whatever it is that they are pumping into me has sedative properties and needs to go. “How’d it go with the needles?”
“Not good. I tried again after those research students finally left but I think the butterfly needles are too small for the keyhole. It kept snapping on me before I could pop the cuffs.”
“I was afraid of that.” Glancing around the room, I search for anything that might work but come up empty handed. There isn’t a bobby pin or spare bit of wire in sight. Then an idea strikes me and I turn back to look at him. “Did one of the doctors leave your chart in your room?”
Flynn’s head disappears for a second. “There’s a folder on the counter over there.”
“Excellent. That means they are either careless or they don’t consider you to be a threat, and that will be their downfall. Can you see if there is a paperclip attached to it?” I hear the bed roll and then grunting from the other side of the curtain as he disappears again.
“Almost got it...”
I hold my breath, willing Flynn to go the distance. I know all too well the pain that metal handcuffs can place on your wrists when you pull against them, but this kid seems pretty tough and sufficiently motivated to get the hell out of this place. I only hope that I’ll be able to keep up with him when we are ready to escape. I promised to help and I intend to keep that promise.
Wiggling my toes, I try to ward off the numbness that ripples through my lower half. I will need to be able to run, or at least walk quickly once people are alerted to our disappearance. Flynn might be expendable, but they won’t want to risk losing me, especially not after their recent discovery.
“Got it!” He soon reappears with a paperclip in hand.
“How long will it be before the next guard comes by?” I glance to the hall and listen but can’t hear anything beyond a distant beeping now. I wonder how many other rooms are spread out along this hall just like ours. How many other people have been stolen and experimented on?
Flynn scrunches up his nose as he begins to pull the paper clip into a straight line, using his teeth as a replacement for his other hand. He works the end of the clip, bending it this way and that with an expert hand before inserting it into the keyhole.
“Just learned lock picking up a
long the way, huh?”
He grins when the cuff clicks open and rubs at his freed wrist. The bruising I see there doesn’t appear to be from his most recent escape attempts. “My friend Roan was a great teacher. You would have liked him. He was a real badass and a strong dislike of the military or authority in general.”
“Sounds like my kind of guy.” Lifting the cuff on my wrist, I motion him over. “Now hurry and get these off of me. We don’t have much time. ”
Flynn closes the gap between us in three strides and takes hold of my wrist. His fingers start to thread the belt through the metal buckle then he falls still. “You’re sure that you’re cured? Like, if I let you out you aren’t going to all of a sudden start craving a Flynn sandwich, right?”
I laugh to try to lighten the mood but I can see the fear creeping into his young face. He has been through a lot and I need to make sure that I respect that. “Trust me, if I were hungry for anyone, I’d have bit off Dr. Wiemann’s nose earlier.”
He snorts and works to free my hand. “I’m not sure he would taste all that good, but I like your style.”
“That guy is rotten to the core, for sure.”
I groan and draw my freed arm into my chest when the final buckle goes slack. The only positive I see about having been trapped in some crazy drug-induced coma for two months is that the bullet wound in my left shoulder is no longer anything more than scar tissue and a twinge of pain. That I can work with.
While I work to free my other hand, Flynn makes swift work on the bindings around my ankles and soon enough, I’m pushing back the covers and rising unsteadily to my feet.
“How are you doing there, Avery? You look a little pale.”
“Wouldn’t you be if you’d been stuck on an IV diet for two months?”
“Good point.” He stares down at the large pouch hanging from the side of my bed. It is half full with a clear liquid and I’m grateful to discover that the catheter was removed while I was asleep. That would have been a bitch to do by myself!
“At least you are well hydrated.”
“Are you always that disgustingly observant?”
Flynn looks over at me. “I learned a while back to notice stuff, especially when it comes between me and taking another breath.”
“Fair enough.” I take his offered hand and slowly step forward, placing real weight on my legs for the first time. My knees feel weak, and I wobble slightly, but proudly remain standing. “Do you have any idea where our clothes are?”
“Burned, most likely. When you arrive here, you are disinfected completely. The decontamination process is very thorough.”
Judging by the way he says it, I imagine it was not a pleasant experience and I’m grateful that I was not conscious for it.
“So what’s the plan?”
“I’m working on it.” I limp over to the curtain with his help and pull it apart just far enough to see.
A nurse’s station sits nearly fifty feet down the hall and appears to be vacant now. Beyond that is another identical hall of curtained wards, but it’s impossible to see if any of them are occupied. I search the wall for any sort of alarm system that can be of use. Setting off a fire alarm would at least give us a few minutes distraction, but there is nothing. The walls are vacant of anything apart from a few random pictures.
Looking back the other way, the hallway becomes increasingly darker. In that direction, there are no lighted exit signs.
“Did you scout out that way when you broke free?”
Flynn pops his head around my shoulder and shakes it. “Nope. It was a creepy ass dark hallway versus brightly lit, non-horror moviesque hall. You get the picture.”
“Did you find an exit down there?”
“Nope. Not a single one.”
“Well, then the creepy horror movie hallway it is then!”
“You’re sure?” Flynn looks at me with raised eyebrows. “I’m not afraid of the dark or anything, but it doesn’t seem all that safe either.”
“That’s sort of the point. If it were of value, it would be lighted as well. As it is, I’d bet that no one goes back there to patrol so that gives us time to find an exit. We need to locate a back door, vent, or something else that will lead us out of here.”
“And if we can’t find one?”
I pat Flynn on the shoulder and take a slow, steadying breath. “Failure is not an option.”
He nods and tightens his grip on my waist as I wrap my arm around his shoulder and we push through the curtain. With each step that I take, I feel as if my body is fighting me. My feet don’t want to work right. My legs want to buckle and pull us toward the floor. Somehow, Flynn manages to keep me upright as we stick to the shadows and use the wall as our guide as the light over our shoulders grows dim.
As we approach a set of double doors at the far end of the hall, well away from the nurses’ station and our vacant room, I pray silently that they are not locked.
“There’s a return air vent here,” Flynn says and eases me against the wall. He runs his fingers along the metal frame and the top corner pops off. “I think we could fit inside after we pop out the filter.”
Wiping at my forehead, I feel myself starting to weaken further. There is no way I would have the energy to drag myself along that passage without his help.
“I can’t.”
Flynn turns back to look at me and hurries to his feet. He wraps his arm around me. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you. We will find another way.”
Leaning heavily on him, Flynn guides us toward the double doors and pushes on the handle, wincing when the latch click echoes loudly in the hall. Glancing back over my shoulder, I breathe a small sigh of relief when no one appears to follow us.
“This feels too easy,” he whispers as we step through and carefully close the door behind us.
A scent suddenly hits me and my nostrils flare as I lift my face to sniff the air. Goosebumps rise along my arms when I hear the sound of a chain dragging along the floor and I dig my nails into Flynn’s arm. “That’s because it was.”
A garbled moan rises from the dark and is followed by a high pitch whine. “Avery? It’s too dark. I can’t see anything.”
I look over at him, surprised to be able to make out the features of his face and the details of the room. Opening my eyes wide, I see multiple bodies moving along the wall. Their white eyes glow like flashlights in the darkness as they all turn to focus on us.
“Flynn, run!”
Staggering backward, I shove him toward the door just as the air shifts in front of my face and I rear back, narrowly missing the swipe of a hand. Other wheezing moans rise from the dark now as the Flesh Bags awaken from their state of dormancy. Our presence has riled them up and I don’t want to linger long enough to see if those chains around their necks will allow them to reach us.
“Get the door open!”
I duck to miss the reaching fingers of a female zombie who yanks against her chains. For a split second, I see something in her face that makes me fall still.
From behind me, I hear the click of the door lock but it sounds distant as I stare at the snarling girl. Her hair is long and greasy. Her cheeks are sunken and her eyes look buried too deep into her face, but despite her gaunt appearance, I recognize her.
“Eva,” I moan and feel my knees begin to buckle. “What have they done to you?”
The memory of seeing Eva’s face for the last time as she labored to bring her baby into the world floods into my mind. I failed her. I should never have left her alone to try to get supplies. Even if there was nothing I could have done to stop the military from taking her, I could have at least been there. Maybe I could have stopped them from turning her into a monster.
“Avery!” Flynn’s arms wrap around my stomach just as Eva takes a wild swing at me. Her nails dig deep into my arm and my breath catches at the sudden surge of
rage building up with me.
“Flynn, something is wrong,” I gasp, doubling over as a pain shreds through my mind. It feels like both halves of my brain are being torn in two.
Anger rolls through me in repetitive waves as Flynn struggles to keep me upright. I can barely see as more hands reach for us, but somehow he manages to drag me free.
Dozens of voices spill through my mind as we collapse to the floor on the other side of the closed double doors. Each one rises and falls with guttural screams that make me twitch and spasm on the floor. Flynn rolls me over but I fight to curl into a ball, clutching my head as I too begin to scream.
“You have to stop yelling, Avery. They are going to hear you and come running!”
The floor feels blissfully cold against my bare skin as I hold myself. Violent tremors work their way through me as I am consumed with the outpouring of hatred.
“I can feel them,” I gasp. “They are so hungry!”
Flynn rolls me onto my back and pries my hands away from my head. “I’m really sorry about this.”
Drawing his fist back, he lands a solid punch on my cheek. My head slams to the side and my vision darkens when I connect with the hard tile, but it only allows me a momentary relief from the onslaught.
Flynn jumps when an alarm sounds down the hallway and swirling red lights appear in the ceiling. “We have to go, now!”
He tugs at my arms, trying to help me to my feet, but I shove him away. “I can’t.”
The snarls and growls behind us are terrifying, but no more so than the ones that I hear in my mind. I am a part of them somehow. Acid burns in my throat as I roll to my side and vomit, but am left with only dry heaves, since I have nothing on my stomach to expel.
“They are coming!”
Glancing up through a veil of thick hair, I see four soldiers on fast approach from the far end of the hall.
