by Amy Cross
Reaching the intersection, I look both ways and see nothing but a bare, desolate road. Further on, there are empty fields, and then in the very distance I can just about make out smoke still rising into the afternoon sky. That must be Boston, and I feel a chill in my bones as I realize that the fight the other night must have been dramatic. For all I know, Toad and all the others could well be dead by now.
Maybe I'd be dead by now, if I'd gone with them.
I hesitate for a moment, but deep down I know that Boston's my only hope. It's far away, and I desperately need food and water, but I figure I've got a chance of making it all the way there. Besides, there might be someone along the road who'll help me out. I know that any choice I make these days is a matter of life and death, but I guess I've got to trust my instincts, so I turn and start walking in the direction that – I hope – will take me all the way to the city.
Even though Elizabeth is irritating, I still want to know that she's okay. I mean, the girl only has one foot, so she's at something of a disadvantage already. I'd hate for her to end up dead, simply because she insists on being so stubborn.
“I'll come back and look for you,” I mutter under my breath, thinking of Elizabeth. “I promise. Word of honor, all that -”
Suddenly I stop.
I've said those words, almost those exact same words, before.
“I'll come back if I can,” I remember telling Melissa a couple of months ago, when I left her and Katie. “I promise. Word of honor, cross my heart, all that stuff.”
Then she hugged me, and as I walked away I truly believed that I'd go back and find her. I didn't, though, and they're almost certainly dead. I made a promise to do the right thing, and circumstances prevented me from going back. No matter how much I tell myself that it wasn't my fault, however, I know deep down that I should and could have done more. I'm really starting to think that maybe it's been a while since I did the right thing. Too long.
Elizabeth didn't just leave without saying goodbye.
She's hurt, or something else happened to her. And while she might be the most irritating person I've ever met, I don't think I can quite stomach the idea of abandoning her. Especially since we spoke that time on the radio, when some kind of crazy coincidence pulled us together despite all the madness that's going on around us. I tell myself not to read too much into that, but at the same time I can't help wondering whether it's some kind of sign.
Can I really just abandon her?
I hesitate, and then I turn and start heading back toward the hospital. Part of me hates this, and feels as if I might be dooming myself, but at the same time I'm filled with the certainty that for the first time in ages I'm determined to do the right thing. Maybe that's more important than all the other stuff, more important even than setting out along some desolate road. Maybe I'm doomed anyway, in which case I'd rather be doing the right thing when I die. Hell, maybe I'm over-compensating for the fact that I never got back to find Melissa and Katie.
But my gut is telling me one thing right now: Elizabeth is in trouble. And I'd rather die doing the right thing, than scrape out another few days by running away.
And then, suddenly, I stop as I see a rabbit hopping across my path.
Elizabeth
“It feels so strange, doesn't it?” the voice whispers, leaning closer as sweat pours from my forehead. “So wrong. Like every cell in your body is about to burst.”
Thomas
The fire burns bright on the patch of ground in front of the hospital entrance, and the skinned rabbit continues to cook nicely.
I don't even know, really, how I caught the rabbit. Its foot was hurt, which slowed it down, and the rest was just about creeping over and then launching myself at the poor thing. Maybe a few months ago I'd have hesitated, I'd have felt bad, but I'm at the brink of starvation so I somehow managed to get my hands on the rabbit, catching it by its injured foot, and then I refused to let go. I tried to make its death quick, and then it was just a matter of getting back up here and starting a fire.
Hell, I'm surprised I didn't just bite into the damn thing back there on the road.
Now, finally, I remove the rabbit from the flames and inspect its charred flesh, and then I take a bite. And I swear, nothing in the world has ever tasted as good as this. I've even managed to stop worrying about disease, and about the dead birds I saw earlier. Right now, the only thing that matters is that I've got meat to eat, and a few mouthfuls of water from an old container in the back of the stranded truck. Given the circumstances, this feels like a feast fit for a king.
And I don't care if the fire attracts anyone.
Not at the moment.
The sky is darkening, and I'm sure these flames can be seen from a few miles away. Maybe I'll end up attracting zombies, or some other kind of trouble, but equally I might attract some friendly people. I can't worry about that stuff right now. I need to eat, and I need to stay warm, and I'll deal with any other problems as and when they arise. At the moment, my hunger is like an overriding thought that's pushing all the other worries out of my mind.
Finally, after what feels like only a few minutes, I've damn-near stripped this rabbit to the bone. The main part of the body, at least. As I take a look at what remains of the carcass, I can't help wondering whether I should try eating the ears. I'm no longer absolutely starving, and I figure that maybe it'd be better to leave the rest of the meat for the morning. After all, it's not as if I've suddenly become some kind of master rabbit-catcher, so this might be my only meal for a little while.
“Sorry, dude,” I mutter, between gulps of water. “I guess this is just the way the world works now.”
***
I guess this is just the way the world works now.
Those words are still ringing in my ears as I stand in the hospital's reception area and try to come up with a plan. The fire's burning outside, as night continues to fall, and the whole site is starting to feel eerily empty. I'm even starting to second-guess my feeling that Elizabeth's nearby, but I quickly tell myself that I have to stay the course. Hell, if I'd continued to walk away, I wouldn't have ended up with that rabbit, so even from a purely selfish viewpoint this evening is turning out to be a success.
“Where are you?” I whisper, looking up at the darkness at the top of the staircase. “I don't know you very well, Elizabeth, but you don't seem like the running-away type to me.”
In fact, I reckon Elizabeth's the kind of girl who'd run to trouble.
At the same time, I know there's no point just repeating the same search I carried out earlier. I've got to be smart about this, even if being smart isn't one of my strongest qualities. I need to come up with a plan, so – as I turn away and head back out toward the fire – I tell myself that for once I'm going to have to sit down and just think as best I can until -
Suddenly I stop as I see a figure crouching on the ground, silhouetted against the flames. I barely have time to recognize the little girl, before she lowers the rabbit carcass from the ground and scrambles to her feet.
She starts racing away, but in her haste she drops the dead rabbit. She skids to a halt, as if she's considering going back for the remains, but I'm already hurrying down the steps and a fraction of a second later she turns and bolts toward the trees.
“Stop!” I yell. “You can have it if you talk to me! Just stop!”
And then, to my surprise, she does stop.
I wait, scared to say or do anything in case I cause her to run again. After a moment, I reach down and pick up what's left of the rabbit, and I'm surprised to find that the girl has quite quickly managed to gnaw a lot of the meat away. I guess she stuck next to the fire for the heat, but she must have been terrified. I brush some dead leaves off the rabbit's side, and then I take a couple of steps toward the girl as she stands with her back to me.
“Here,” I say, holding the rabbit out to her. “You can have what's left. Do you want to come and share the fire?”
She turns, and her hungry eyes
immediately fix on the carcass.
Suddenly she hurries this way and grabs the dead rabbit, and then she pulls away from me and goes around to the other side of the fire. Looking past the flames, I can just about see that she's crouching down again as she resumes gnawing on the bones.
“My name's Thomas,” I say cautiously, still worried about spooking her. “Thomas Edgewater. I know, it's kind of a weird name. Anyway, I'm not going to hurt you, so you have no reason to be afraid. I'm not even mad about the truck, not anymore. Well, I guess I kind of am, but -”
Stopping, I realize that this is going a little wrong.
“Do you remember my friend Elizabeth?” I ask. “She was with me earlier. Well, the thing is, I can't find her anymore, and I just want to make sure that she's doing alright. You don't happen to have seen her today, do you?”
Still eating, the girl stares at me.
“I'm worried she's hurt,” I continue. “Like, maybe she fell somewhere and it's just bad luck that I didn't find her. I don't know if you got much of an impression of her, but she can be kind of dumb sometimes. That doesn't mean I don't like her, though. It just means it's hard to get used to her. But there might still be time to help her and to make sure she gets better, so if you have any idea where I can find her, I'd be really grateful.”
I wait.
She doesn't reply, but she's still eating. I guess that's a good sign.
“And I'll share anything else with you that I get my hands on,” I tell her. “It might not be much, but I'll split it right down the middle. You're hungry, aren't you? And you must be cold. I even have some water.”
Even though I can't really afford to give any water away, I take the bottle and make my way around the fire. As I do so, I glance up at the darkening sky and see that there are heavy-looking clouds up there, so I make a mental note to put something outside so I can maybe collect rainwater tonight. And then, as I reach the girl, I find that she's still chewing on the rabbit.
“Here.”
I kneel next to her and set the bottle on the ground.
“You can talk,” I tell her. “I'm sure of that. I get that you don't want to, and I guess that's cool, but can you at least answer a few questions. Do you know this place well?”
She pauses, and then – to my surprise – she nods.
I allow myself a faint smile.
“Have you been here long?” I ask.
She nods.
“Are you alone here?”
She pauses again, and this time she doesn't reply.
“And have you seen my friend Elizabeth?”
Another pause, before finally she shakes her head.
“Well, I think she's here,” I continue, “and I'm not leaving until I've checked every part of the damn place. And I could use a hand with that, so what do you say?” I reach a hand out to her. “Do you want to help, in exchange for heat and warmth? I don't see you getting a better offer any time soon.”
She stares at me for a moment, and then – again, to my surprise – she reaches out and shakes my hand.
Elizabeth
I lean my head back and try to cry out, as the pain builds in my chest, but another hand is clamped tight across my mouth. Every muscle in my body is tensed now, burning with agony, and I just want it all to stop. It's not stopping, though. It's getting worse and worse, and these people won't even let me scream.
Day 103
Thomas
She's still asleep. That's good.
The fire's almost burned out now, with just a few flickering embers left. Now that the sun's rising, however, the air isn't quite so cold. I was wrong about the clouds, they didn't bring any rain in the night, but they look more ominous than ever and I'm certain some rain has to be coming soon.
I finish setting out the last of my pots, hoping to collect a little water during the day, and then – right on cue – I feel a couple of drops against my face.
“Huh,” I mutter, “that seems -”
Suddenly a downpour begins.
I barely have time to react, before I spot movement nearby. Turning, I see that the little girl has sat up with a start, as if she's not quite sure what's happening.
“Get inside!” I yell, rushing over to her and grabbing her hand, and then leading her quickly up the steps until we're inside the building.
I'm not too wet as I turn and look outside, and now the rain is really getting stronger. The last of the fire is well and truly gone, and I can already hear rain drumming against the roof of the hospital and starting to trickle down the pipes on the building's side. Frankly, after running low of water for the past few days, I can't help feeling like this is something of a miracle, and I reckon my containers will be full before too long. A good rainstorm like this could keep me going for several days.
And keep the girl going, too.
“Are you okay?” I ask, looking down at her. “Did you sleep well?”
She stares at me. I guess it was too much to think that she'd suddenly open up, but at least she's not running away. And as the rain somehow intensifies even further, I figure that maybe she's willing to stick around, at least for a while. Even if she's not going to help, I wouldn't mind a little company.
“So I have to start somewhere,” I tell her, “and I'm really sorry, but I'm probably going to talk to you while I'm working. If that's annoying, then you're just going to have to suck it up. So do you want to come with me and start taking a look in that mess hall? I'm starting to think that maybe I'm missing some parts of the building. It looks so huge from the outside. You don't think there could be any hidden parts, do you? Like, sections I haven't checked yet?”
***
Stopping at the far end of the main hall, I look around for a moment before turning and seeing that the girl is still with me.
“Now what?” I ask. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I feel as if I'm getting closer and closer. Like, I can almost sense that Elizabeth's around somewhere. I've never really had that kind of feeling before, I always thought it was a load of rubbish, but I really feel it now. Like, in my gut.”
I wait, but she simply stares at me.
“See?” I continue, turning and looking up toward the high ceiling. “I told you it'd sound crazy.”
I glance toward the windows, and for a moment I simply stare at the tree-tops outside as the rain continues to come crashing down. The constant drumming sound of rain hitting the building is, at least, a welcome break from the silence. Looking back at the girl, however, I'm struggling to figure out where to look next.
Suddenly I see that she's raised her left arm. She's still staring at me, but she seems to be pointing at something on the far wall.
“What is it?” I ask, heading back over to her and then looking at the wall, which looks pretty blank and bare right now. “Did you see something?”
She doesn't reply, but she continues to point so I head over to get a better look. Just as I'm about to tell her that I don't know what's wrong, however, I realize that there's a very thin line running up part of the wall, and then I step back and see that this line forms a shape that could be a hidden door.
“What the...”
I take another step back, and now I'm certain. There's some kind of hidden entrance here. For a while now, I've been feeling as if my search has somehow missed part of the building's interior, and now I'm pretty sure that I'm right. I step closer to the opening and put my fingertips at the edges, but so far I don't see a way to get this thing open.
“Good catch,” I say, looking over my shoulder and seeing that the girl is watching me, and that she's lowered her hand. “I must have walked past this loads of times without noticing.”
I return my attention to the 'door', but I still don't quite get how it's supposed to open. I certainly can't get my fingertips into the gap, and pushing doesn't seem to have any impact, so I guess I need to come up with a smarter idea. I think for a moment, and then I head to the nearest door and peer around the corner. There's another corrido
r that runs left-to-right just a little way ahead, so whatever's behind the secret door can't be much larger than a closet.
Unless it's a stairwell.
I turn to go back and look again, but I almost walk straight into the little girl. She must have followed me through, and a moment later she points past me.
“What is it?” I ask, looking over my shoulder but seeing only the corridor.
I turn back to the girl, and for the first time I start to feel as if she maybe knows more than I realized.
“Have you been here for a while?” I ask. “Do you know what's going on in this place?”
I wait, but she doesn't reply so I head along the corridor and then I stop as I see another of those hidden doors, this time in a wall just a few paces ahead. Now that I know the door's there, it's impossible to miss, but I guess I can understand how I managed to hurry past so many times, especially with the poor light.
I head over and start examining the door, but it's just like the first, with no obvious way to get it open.
“How many of these things are there?” I ask, starting to feel a little frustrated. “What's going on in this place?”
I turn to her, but she's still wearing that same inscrutable expression. As I stare at her, I start to wonder whether this is some kind of game, and I can't help but think back to the moment when I suspected her of trapping us here.
But...
No, that's not possible.
She's just a little kid.
“Do you know how to open these?” I ask cautiously.
She doesn't reply.
She could, but she's choosing not to say a word.
“I'm not into games,” I tell her, as I step back over toward her. “My friend's missing, and I'm starting to think that you know more than you're letting on. So how about you tell me everything, before I have to make you?”
