by Stevens, GJ
I looked to the ceiling but found it solid, the stainless-steel vents fixed with screws I had no hope of turning. There were no other doors, no cupboard to hide in our desperation.
My attention again turned to the windows and I stepped away. I could hear the snapping of teeth and I saw a head, soon several, fighting to get through the gap.
I pulled up a chair and threw it at the window, gasps running through the watching crowd as it bounced back, slapping down to the hard floor. Even Shadow had silenced as I pulled up the rifle hanging across my back and fired.
I hit the big target, but watched as a neat hole punched through the centre without splitting or cracking the glass, leaving a space to see shadows across the other side.
Still, I had to hope we were better outside than cramped in here. I launched the chair again and my knees gave way as it bounced off, watching as the barricade of beds swept either side.
I had to get up. I had to raise myself high. The body was willing but I couldn't get my mind to take control, despite seeing the hungry creatures pour through the double doors.
After all that had gone before, could I lay down and not fight to the end? Could I really give up now, not taking my place at our last stand?
89
What choice did I have when I saw Cassie reaching out? How could I draw back from her bandaged hand held open to pull me from where I'd sunk? How could I let her see me like this in our last moments together?
I stood and fixed my gaze on hers whilst ignoring the pain in my knees as they bent, sucking up the sting of each breath as my body remembered the trauma I'd endured in the last few days.
Together, we turned to face the advance as Shadow's bark grew more intense. We drew up our weapons, with no need to be selective. We both fired, loosing off round after round into the crowd.
Lead opened jagged holes, ripping flesh from bone, but few bodies fell to the floor or slowed their momentum.
The click of my empty chamber came too soon. I turned to Cassie to see her rapid fire, but instead she stared back, her gun empty, too.
Still, bullets shocked the air, rounds flying in from somewhere we couldn't see. I scanned the room and saw a window in the centre row where the glass had blown out, its fragments spread across the floor. A flurry of lead streamed from outside and the smoking black-end of a long barrel rattled against the windowsill as it weaved left and right, mowing the dead down, splitting torsos in two.
“Get down,” I shouted, turning as I motioned for everyone to hit the floor. My back was to the advance, even though the creatures were almost on us.
“Get down,” I repeated, running over to Andrew, the old lady already on the floor as I pulled him from the chair, launching myself to cover his body and burying my face against his cooling skin.
The chatter of the machine gun stopped, but shouts were all around, single shots volleying from somewhere unseen.
The rattle was back and I felt a weight fall on my arm. I spasmed out, rising, prepared to smash the life, or death, with my fists; ready to protect to the end.
No response came back as I shoved it away, the creature just flesh, my fist coming back clotted with blood.
A haze of thick, cordite stink misted the room as the gunfire fell silent. The fog settled enough for me to see two soldiers, one a good foot taller than the other, striding through the double doors. Their faces were stern, gaze flinching either way for movement, their handguns aimed in our direction.
I put my hands in the air, ready to switch to the next nightmare.
Still alive as they slowed their advance, they settled their guns pointing to the floor.
My gaze shot to the window and someone climbing through. Neither soldier reacted as Lane jumped to the tiles, dragging the heavy machine gun by a handle with a ribbon of long bullets wrapped around its centre.
“You were right,” he said, his face in a thin smile as he picked his way through the mess of bodies littering the length of the ward, tip-toeing around the leeching blood.
I stood to full height, took notice as each one of us rose.
Ellie ushered the children up, taking care to see their wide eyes open. She turned them each away, struggling to find a direction clear of the chaos.
Cassie pulled up and looked to me, checking over my body for any damage whilst I did the same for her. Only the old lady and Andrew didn't rise and together we helped him to the chair, pausing as we saw the bullet hole in the leather seat and a matching crater in the wall behind.
“You found them,” I said, turning away, stepping around the children.
The old lady was still on the floor, her body cooling as I touched.
“No, they found me,” Lane reply.
We hugged.
“You were right. I told them about you guys.”
“I didn't even know her name,” I said, looking to the old woman. Cassie took my arm and helped me to my feet. “Doctor Lytham's dead,” I said as I rose.
“No, she's not,” said the taller soldier in a deep voice, his gun by his side. “Who’s injured?”
With no time to take in the news, I turned to Cassie, not able to look anywhere but her hand. I saw the soldiers stiffen, their pistols jerking just a little but still pointed to the ground; they raised once more as we turned to Andrew.
“But they're okay. We got the bleeding under control quickly,” I said.
Both looked at each other and gave a nod as they turned to clear a path, pushing bodies to the side with their heavy boots.
I stroked Shadow and picked him up around his legs, my ribs complaining like they hadn't done in hours.
The taller soldier stayed up front, guiding the way with the wide beam of a torch.
Lane walked by my side as the other soldier held back while we headed through the corridor. I was thankful for Shadow's bulk blocking my view as we passed the piled bodies, with no other choice than to walk through the tacky blood.
A shot went off as we found a double set of doors, the solider at the rear jogging to catch up now he'd made sure the old lady wouldn't rise.
Beyond the doors were climbing concrete steps; the smear of dark liquid on the first few told of the battles won and lost in this place.
Leaving the machine gun behind, Lane and the shorter soldier helped Andrew out of his chair, their footsteps echoing with each heavy breath until we were through the doors at the top and out into light.
We passed another two guards crouched down behind barricades, rifles pointing in our direction. At least I could be sure the bags they used for cover contained sand this time.
The first floor was different, despite having the same layout as below; the stench of decay less pronounced, covered perhaps by the caustic antiseptic hanging in my mouth.
This corridor wasn't littered with battlefield scars and light poured down through skylights after every few steps. It felt like we were in a different place, like a weight lifted, despite the heaviness of the dog.
Led into an anti-room, much like the one downstairs, I watched each of the two separate doorways. Without the need to wait, the left opened and through came Doctor Lytham.
“Who?” I said, turning back to Cassie, but the words tailed off.
“You look like you've seen a ghost,” the doctor said, but she didn't keep her gaze on me long enough for a reply.
Instead, her lids widened as they fell on Jack then squinted small as she scanned the room, settling on Andrew sat to the floor, his back leaning heavy against the wall.
The second of the two doors opened and out stepped a man with messy, ginger hair. With a nod from the doctor, he rounded up the children, but before he could be led through the door, Jack turned, wide-eyed, for my approval.
“Go,” I said, tapping his shoulder as they passed.
The doctor nodded. “He'll be fine,” she said.
I nodded a slow reply.
“They'll be safe with us,” she added.
“We'll make sure,” I replied, and moved to follow.
The soldier stepped in my path.
“You have been injured,” Doctor Lytham said, and turned with me towards Cassie and Andrew.
As the door swung closed at my back, I was sure I heard a key turn and a lock snap into place.
The doctor took a step. Lane backed away and she examined Cassie's grey, dirty bandage and swept her long blonde hair to the side as she pushed her hand to Cassie’s forehead, then gripped her wrist between her thumb and forefinger, staring out to the wall as if it wasn't there.
Letting go, the doctor seemed satisfied and ushered her to stand beside me. With Cassie out of the way, she knelt down to Andrew, but didn't touch him or take his pulse. She did nothing but look over his paling skin and the dark red stains soaking through the bandage at his arm.
Another man in a lab coat came through the right-hand door, his coat splashed dark with blood.
The doctor pointed Cassie out and he opened the right-hand door, holding it open. Cassie turned, staring back at me the same way Jack had, willing me to answer her unvoiced question. Is it going to be okay?
I nodded without pause. I wanted to go with her, but Andrew's need was more pressing.
Lane followed Cassie through the door, but when I didn't go with them, Doctor Lytham dismissed her colleague with a nod and he let the door close as he followed behind.
“He needs stitches,” I said, looking down at the dog.
Doctor Lytham turned sharply in my direction, glancing towards Shadow, but soon her gaze fell on Andrew again.
I saw the look in her eyes, saw her give an unvoiced order; watched as the taller of the soldiers took a step towards me as the doctor tried not to catch my eye, walking through the left door and holding it open.
I took a step, turning back to ask a question, but my voice dried up as I looked at Andrew.
His eyes were wide open and, instead of the soldier lifting him under the armpits, he held a gun at his temple.
My view became blocked by the other soldier, his arms grabbing around me in a bear hug. Our bodies flinched as the bullet echoed.
Shadow struggled, squeezed tight against my chest, my arms pinned at my side.
90
I'd been out cold for a while, but for how long I could only guess. The drugs they'd stabbed in my neck felt like they still swirled around my head. They'd been enough to calm my grief, to close my eyes, to get me behind the unbreakable glass door.
With my vision only just becoming clear, I stared out past the glass, watching technicians in white coats hurry around the laboratory as it stretched out, their excitement so clear in their energetic expressions while they busied between the benches. In their hands, many held long pipettes, loading colourful liquids from vial to vial.
I'd woken laying down on a bed to the hum of a generator somewhere close by. Shadow sat at my feet, the hair around his middle shaven, while a line of stitches highlighted the wound. I pushed my hand to his head, making sure they hadn't just given me his body back.
Pulling at the long metal door handle, none of the heads on the other side looked up as my fist hammered hard when I found it locked.
I stopped only as Shadow woke, lifting his head as if complaining about the noise. The room had nothing I could force against the window. Shiny, thick bolts held the metal bed frame to the floor. The blanket was no use, nor was the bucket sat in the corner.
I sat close to Shadow and let the pressure in my veins drop, hoping my vision would settle as I stroked across his back. I kept my gaze from the short hair and watched as he nuzzled his head tight against his back legs.
Watching out through the glass, I set about planning my next move. They would have to give me food; when the door opened I would strike forward. I would take the opportunity to launch my revenge for Andrew's death.
Lytham would be the first. I'd look her in the eye and wait for her to tell me he hadn't had a chance, so why give him one? I would tell her she had no chance either, count to three, then blow her out of existence.
Somehow, I would find Cassie and Lane, would find the kids and we'd go. We'd take our chances on the outside. We'd live whatever time we had left hidden away. Hidden from the creatures. Hidden from the looters. Hidden from the army and those who said they were here on the side of humanity.
With bile rising in my stomach, I stood, hoping to make more of the movement in the far corner of the lab; to see who was heading my way behind the tall desks stacked high with clear pipes connecting great bell jars.
The procession was short; just three. A soldier led the way, his handgun holstered, the strap of a rifle over his shoulder. In the middle was Cassie and my breath fell away as I saw her gaunt features and the striking white of her new bandage.
Behind her was a woman in a white coat, her face pale against her long brunette hair, a khaki shirt under her coat; her walk seemed stilted as if she carried an injury.
Before they arrived, a soldier stepped from the side, his gaze fixed on mine and the black of a pistol held in his hand. He slipped the lock to the side and aimed the gun between my eyes.
I stopped staring as Cassie swept into the room, the cage, the cell, whatever you care to call it. I stopped watching as she opened her arms, tears rolling down her face and she pulled me in close.
The soldiers and the tech had gone by the time we came up for air and my questions fired.
“Are you okay?” I said and she nodded a reply. “What did they do to you?”
“Tests. Took blood, changed the bandage,” she said, her voice low.
“What did they say?” I asked, as I held her good hand in both of mine.
“Not much,” she replied, forcing a smile.
“Your sister? Jack and Tish?”
“Tests, too. They have a room set up with toys in. They're looking after them,” she said, wiping her eyes on the bandage.
“Lane,” I said, as she leant forward to pat Shadow.
“Don't know. I think they have him in another room. What about you? Are you okay?”
Sighing, I let a big smile go.
“I'm fine, don't worry about me. I was just figuring out how I'd rescue you,” I replied and she laughed, pulling me close. I wished she hadn't; her skin felt so cold.
Sitting back, she settled in at my side and I swept the blanket over her, but she pulled it up so it covered us both. With my arm around her shoulders, she tucked in and I pushed my stare out to the lab, listening to her slowing breath as I tried to calm my own.
Waking with a start, Shadow's head went up too, but Cassie was much slower to react and was only just opening her eyes as my vision settled on the three figures.
Doctor Lytham, the soldier who had killed Andrew and the other woman in a white coat from before stood the other side of the door, holding a piece of paper against the glass.
I moved my gaze from comparing the resemblance the two women shared, one old, one not so. I fixed on the sign which just read 'Drink,' with an arrow pointed to the floor.
The two of us followed down the glass to the Pyrex conical flask sat on the wooden floor, filled halfway with a dark liquid.
I looked at Cassie and back to the figures. The sign had turned and it read, 'It might save your life,' but I saw from their faces it might equally kill.
Cassie lifted from my side, the younger doctor's face setting in an awkward smile as Cassie struggled with her balance.
I caught her arm before she could fall and helped her back to the bed. Shadow barked as I touched the flask and saw the thick liquid was purple close up as it sloshed against the glass.
“It's okay, boy,” I said, and Shadow tucked his head back in, closing his eyes.
The liquid smelt foul, the rotten stink forcing me to recoil as I sat back to Cassie's side.
“You don't have to,” I said, and she struggled to raise her eyebrows.
“What choice do I have?”
I wanted to say something to brighten her spirits. I wanted to tell her of my great idea about how we would get out o
f this place and live happily ever after, but I had no words. I couldn't save the day. We were passengers on a train; our only choice was to jump to our deaths or stay and hope it didn't smash apart when we came to the end of the line.
I shrugged, regretting the weakness of my reply, but she struggled with a smile and pushed the flask out.
“Drink some.”
I shook my head.
“I don't need it. I haven't been bitten.”
“You might need it sometime. Maybe it will help,” she said, and turned slowly to the door as my head followed.
The doctor and the lab coat shrugged their shoulders.
I slowly pushed the flask and her hand away.
“You need it. Drink it up. I won't need it. When you're better, this will all be over.”
Cassie raised her right brow and my heart melted.
“No, only if you drink it with me.”
“Don't be silly. Time is of the essence. Drink it, then we can get on with our lives. When you get better we'll be out of here. They'll want to save you, want to take you with them. Us, I mean. You'll be the one who recovered. Right?” I said, and turned to the glass.
They were a little slow to reply, but eventually the younger woman nodded.
“Now drink up.”
“No,” Cassie replied, and pushed the glass out to her side as if she would let it smash to the tiles.
“No,” I shouted, and took it from her hand. I tried not to sniff the liquid and took a gulp, pushing it down my throat as I handed it back.
She hurried the rest down in one go.
With not enough energy to gag, the sickly fluid rolled away. I took the flask and lifted to my feet, my weight seeming to grow with every step as I bent and placed the glass by the door.
Cassie had already lain down on the bed, my legs too heavy to leap the gap, to cup her head in my hands. It was all I could do to get my leg up before I could do nothing but close my eyes, hoping the guilt I felt wasn't my last thought in this fucked-up world.
