Whispers in the Mist: Black Winter Book Three

by Coates, Darcy

  “I’ll come,” West offered. “In case you need backup.”

  Dorran stepped forward. “I can help, as well.”

  “You stay put.” Johann pointed a finger at him. “Not to appear ungrateful, but West and I have this covered.”

  Dorran gave a short nod. Clare let her shoulders relax. Even though the cameras showed the outside of the bunker was empty, she appreciated not having the stress of being separated from Dorran.

  “Stay in communication,” Unathi said, forcing a small grey transmitter into Johann’s hands. “Be cautious. Remember, the hollows are attracted by noise.”

  “I know.” He took the transmitter, hefted the gun over the crook of his arm, and disappeared through the door, with West close behind.

  Unathi ran a hand over her face while she continued to stare at the screens. As the footsteps faded down the hallway, she murmured, “How the hell could it become blocked within three days?”

  “They should be safe, though, shouldn’t they?” Niall hung near the back of the room, arms crossed as his eyes darted from the screen to his leader and back. “The hollows can’t get over the top of the fence since we put up those reinforcements.”

  Clare’s breath caught. She grabbed Unathi’s shoulder. “I cut through the chain on the gate when I brought the bus in. I threaded it back through so that it would look locked, but it isn’t.”

  Unathi switched to the second camera. The gate was visible in the distance. The definition wasn’t great, but Clare could still see the gate was closed, and the chain remained threaded through the holes.

  “Looks like it hasn’t been touched,” Unathi said. “Maybe dead leaves or a stray plastic bag blew into the intake. Or maybe the system malfunctioned. Johann should know how to fix it.”

  Clare bit her lip. She kept scanning the camera’s view. There were no hollows in sight—either inside the compound or out. That didn’t make her feel any more comfortable. Dorran’s hand rested over her shoulder, partially to comfort her and, she suspected, partially to reassure himself. Niall stayed in the room’s corner, eyes tight as he watched the screens. Becca remained near him as she clutched the laptop close, like it was a baby she didn’t dare let out of her sight.

  The console’s speaker crackled, and Johann’s voice came through. “We’re at the doors, Chief. Open sesame.”

  Unathi pressed a button. The massive shutter door ground up, and a moment later, Johann and West emerged through it. West gave a thumbs-up to the camera as he followed his companion around the rectangular concrete block.

  Audio continued to float through the speakers: crunching footsteps interspersed with heavy breathing. Johann and West must have run through the ship, Clare realised. It wasn’t a short trip to the entrance.

  They disappeared from the camera’s view as they turned the corner. A moment later, Johann’s voice broadcast through the speakers. “We’re at the intake. The grate has been removed.”

  Unathi leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “What? How long has it been like that?”

  “Did anyone check it before we entered the ship?” Niall asked. “Someone should have—”

  Johann swore. There was the scuffle of hurried footsteps. West muttered something inaudible.

  “Report,” Unathi snapped.

  “There—uh, there are hollows in the intake filter—” Johann’s voice sounded strained. “At least a dozen. Hell. No wonder it was blocked.”

  “Retreat. Don’t engage.” Unathi’s voice belayed her stress.

  For a few painful seconds, all they could hear was Johann’s laboured breathing. Then he said, “Nah, I think we’re okay. They’re dead. I’ll pull them out. Gimme a hand, West.”

  Clare’s mind was racing. Hollows. Inside the compound. But how could they get in without disturbing the chain? Unless…

  Clare grabbed Unathi’s sleeve. “Get them back in.”

  Unathi hesitated, eyes flicking over the screen, from the locked gate to the undisturbed trees outside the compound.

  Clare shook her. “It’s a trap! Get them back in!”

  Dorran’s hold on Clare’s arm was almost painful. He was thinking the same thing. The filtration system’s failure hadn’t been an accident. Hollows wouldn’t have piled themselves into an intake without cause.

  Unathi bent forward, her eyes hard. “West, Johann, return inside. That’s an order.”

  Johann laughed. “This isn’t the army, Chief. You don’t have the authority to give orders. I doubt we’re even getting paid anymore now that the world’s ended. Gimme one more minute and—”

  A muffled cry came from West. Then scuffling noises were followed by thumping footsteps.

  “They’re on the roof!” Johann yelled.

  West swore.

  The two men reappeared on the camera, running like death was on their heels. Clare squeezed her hands together, silently begging them to hurry.

  They weren’t the only movement. Hollows scuttled down the structure’s walls, pouring off the roof like insects as they raced towards the ground. Towards the open door.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Unathi’s hand hovered over the button to close the metal shutters. Johann and West were still at least twenty feet away. The first of the hollows hit the ground and immediately turned towards the opening, disappearing into the black pit that led down to their compound.

  “Shut the door!” Johann bellowed.

  “But—”

  “We can make it! Shut the door!”

  Unathi hit the button. The shutters ground into action and began to descend painstakingly slowly. Clare could hear the mechanical rattling through Johann’s receiver.

  She could hear other noises too. The hissing. The chattering. Gooseflesh rose across her arms.

  Johann lifted his rifle and fired towards the swarm without breaking stride. The shot went wide. The hollows didn’t react to the noise. More disappeared into the opening.

  They’re being controlled. There’s a leader somewhere. One of the smart hollows. One that has found a way to exert control over the others, just like Madeline Morthorne.

  Dorran bent close to her ear. “Stay here. Lock the door. I love you.”

  “Dorran—”

  He was gone before she could argue, disappearing into the hallways, the doors slamming closed behind him.

  Clare took two strides towards the door to follow, but a tinny scream caused her to freeze. She swivelled back to the screens. Unathi staggered away from the console, a hand pressed to her throat.

  The shutters were nearly closed. Hollows continued to scuttle through the gap. Johann lowered his head and held the rifle out ahead of him like a spear as he charged into their midst. He disappeared inside, the shutters scraping his shoulders.

  “Where’s West?”

  Clare’s question was met with silence. The shutters clicked down, locking into place, sealing out the rest of the monsters. They pressed their pale bodies against the door, open hands slapping the metal as they looked for a way in.

  But not all of the creatures were focussed on the doors. A clump of them had gathered near the building’s corner. They swarmed, writhing over one another in a frenzy.

  Then Johann’s voice bellowed, crackling through the speakers: “West? West!”

  Unathi’s hand covered her mouth. She shook her head, swaying.

  “No!” The sound of a fist beating on the shutters echoed through the speaker. “Open the door! I’ve gotta get West!”

  Unathi reached out. She stopped, her hand poised over the button, but didn’t press it. The weight of the decision was written across her features in deep, horrified creases.

  “Open the door!” Johann screamed.

  Another voice, faint but familiar, followed it. “Behind you,” Dorran yelled, followed by the swoosh and thwack of a weapon connecting with a hollow’s skull.

  Unathi’s hand stayed poised over the button. The fingers shook. A tear slid past her lower lid and ran down her cheek, but still, she didn’t lowe
r her hand.

  Niall shoved past Clare. She grabbed for him, trying to pull him back, but he was too fast. He reached around Unathi before she could react and slammed his open palm into the button. Then he was moving past them, aiming for the door, his blond curls whipping in his wake.

  No. No. You’ll let them in. There are so many. Dorran’s there.

  A muffled choking sound came from Unathi. She stared down at the button then looked back up at the screen. The shutters were lifting. Hollows were pouring through the gap.

  “Close it again!” Clare began running. It was too late to stop the hollow from getting in. She needed to find Dorran—find him and keep him safe.

  She moved through the hallways at a painful speed, hitting walls as she took corners too fast. As she ran, she scanned for any kind of weapon. The ship’s minimalistic design restricted her. There was nothing long enough and strong enough to be effective against the monsters. The knives in the kitchens were all small. If she could get to the gardens, there would be farming implements, but they were on the other side of the ship—

  Her eyes landed on a fire extinguisher. She grabbed it and wrenched it out of its holder. It was metal and heavy enough to do some damage. Clare kept moving, retracing her steps to the door that would connect to the outside world.

  Chattering noises came from behind her. Clare twisted just in time to avoid the teeth snapping at her face. A hollow scuttled along the hall behind her. It had grown three mouths, each filled with too many molars, all gnashing at her in a sickening rhythm. Clare swung the fire extinguisher and smashed it into the face, sending teeth scattering. The hollow tilted back but didn’t fall. Clare pushed into it, bringing the metal down again and again, until its head was a pulp. She didn’t spare any time to admire her work. She gave herself just enough leeway to draw a fresh breath, then she turned and continued down the hall.

  A figure came out of the passageway to her left. Clare gasped and reeled back, raising the extinguisher. Dorran scraped to a halt. Blood ran down one side of his face and saturated his jacket. She reached a hand out, and he clasped it before she could touch him.

  “Not my blood.” He glanced behind them. “The ship’s overrun. Get back to the surveillance room, lock the door, and keep the others safe. I’ll find you as soon as I can.”

  “Johann—”

  “We were separated. I don’t know where he is. I’m looking for him.”

  “Niall’s out here somewhere as well.”

  “I’ll do what I can.” He pressed her hand then gave her a shove in the opposite direction. “Be safe.”

  “Dorran—”

  “Trust me.” He swung the object in his other hand, and Clare saw he’d torn a pipe off a wall. Its end was covered in gore. “I’ll come back for you.”

  He disappeared back down the hall, towards the entrance. Clare muttered furiously under her breath and turned back. Dorran was right. With the ship compromised, the best they could do was gather their surviving parties and find shelter. She and Dorran had experience fighting the hollow ones. She couldn’t say the same for anyone else from the ship.

  As Clare ran, a cacophony of discordant sounds disturbed the hall’s normal serenity. Her own footsteps were the loudest, but they were joined by faint, indistinct noises, the clang of metal impacting bone, and the endless, maddening chatters and hisses of dozens of hollows.

  Unathi stood in the control room’s doorway. Her glasses had slipped down, and she made no move to push them back into place. Sweat slicked her face as she stared down the hallway.

  The extinguisher was dripping with blood, and Clare threw it aside. “Is the external door shut?”

  Unathi’s mouth opened but wouldn’t form words. Shock.

  Clare grabbed her shoulders and forced her back inside the maintenance room. Becca stood near the back wall, shaking, knuckles white as she clutched the laptop. Clare shut the door behind them then crossed to the console.

  The screen still showed the shuttered door. It was open. There was no motion outside. Every hollow that had been a part of the ambush had found its way inside, but that didn’t mean more wouldn’t be coming. Clare pressed the button to shut the door then flicked the switch to activate Johann’s radio.

  “Johann, can you hear me?”

  “I’m here. I’m here.”

  “Where are you?”

  There was a grunt, followed by a wet cracking noise. Then Johann returned, breathless. “Trying to find a way back to the door. Hollows are everywhere.”

  “Johann, get to the surveillance station. We’re reconvening here.”

  “I’ve gotta get West.”

  Clare’s eyes moved to the screen. The place she’d seen the hollows gather was empty. The lump in her throat made it painful to speak. “West is gone. You have to come back. We’re not going to survive if we don’t stay together.”

  Johann swore. “I’m not leaving West!”

  “It’s too late for him. Please. Think of the others. Becca and Unathi are here. They need you.”

  Another obscenity. The way his voice cracked made Clare think he might be crying. “I really screwed up, didn’t I?”

  “That doesn’t matter. Just come back.”

  The chattering grew louder outside the door. Clare crossed to it in two quick paces and switched the lock. A normal hollow wouldn’t know how to turn the handle, but not all of them were normal.

  One of them is smart.

  It had been a concentrated attack. The hollows had been brought into the compound, and then the gate’s chain had been reaffixed so that it looked as though it hadn’t been touched. They had hidden on the roof, out of view of the cameras. Bodies had been sacrificed to block the intake vent. They had known someone would come out of the bunker to repair it. And even then, instead of directly targeting the two nearest bodies, the hollows had swarmed through the open door, because their leader knew that was where the greatest feast would be found.

  And now Dorran, Johann, and Niall are out there with it.

  Clare flexed her hands at her sides. Flecks of hollow blood clung to her left palm, making it tacky. She hoped Dorran knew what he was doing. She needed him to be safe.

  Unathi took a shuddering breath. She leaned her back against the cabinets, her eyes staring sightlessly at the wall opposite her. “We’re going to die, aren’t we?”

  “No.” Clare spoke with an almost wild conviction. “You’re going to be fine. But I need you to focus, okay?”

  She gave a shaky nod.

  The scratching at the door grew louder. Fingers, digging into the edges, into the gap underneath, the brittle nails fracturing. Clare fought the urge to press her hands to her ears. The sound seemed to come from every side, unrelenting.

  The speakers crackled as Johann re-opened his communication link. “Bloody things are in the ducts. That’s how they keep appearing behind me.”

  Clare’s eyes flicked to the ceiling. Two simple grates were set high in the walls. Her heart plunged.

  The scrabbling was coming from every direction. The dry scrape of nails against wood barely masked the tinny tap of bones against metal. The door was only a diversion.

  “We need to go.”

  Her two companions looked terrified. Clare remembered her first experience fighting the hollow ones. Fear and shock had dulled her reactions, slowing her, making her limbs weak.

  We need weapons. Something long and sharp. The gardens have hoes and shovels. They will do.

  Clare pointed at the screen. “How do I get the map back?”

  Unathi stumbled forward, her shaking fingers finding the right buttons. The blueprint flashed up.

  Clare leaned close to the screen, hyperaware of the growing clatter in the ducts. “Where are we?”

  Unathi tapped a room. Clare blinked, trying to visualise the rest of the ship around them. She barely knew the paths; trying to translate them into an aerial view was disorienting.

  “Garden?” she asked.

  A gesture drew her
attention to one of the largest squares on the other side of the map. Clare tried to trace the twisting path they would need to take. It wasn’t a short hike.

  If they’re in the ducts, nowhere is safe. We need to get weapons quickly. Quicker than running to the gardens. Something simple enough for Becca and Unathi to use. What else is there?

  Clare ran through her memories of the building, scanning each of the rooms she’d visited in her short stay. The kitchens had knives but nothing long enough to be a ranged weapon. The offices were bare of anything sharper than a letter opener. The fire extinguishers had a good weight, but she doubted either of her companions were in a physical or mental state to bludgeon anything.

  Which left… The storage closet.

  It was full of the supplies from the bus. The hatchet, the bat, Beth’s favoured rebar, and a spear. And it would be close.

  Clare rushed to trace their path to it. Just one corridor and a corner to traverse. That was do-able. It had to be. They were out of time. A small key icon hovering over the room indicated it was electronically locked. Clare took a guess, pressed the key icon, and was rewarded as the symbol vanished.

  Fingers poked through the duct slats above Becca. She gasped and staggered away from it. Metal screws squealed as pressure was applied to them.

  “Stay close,” Clare said. “We’re going to make a run for it.”

  “No.” Unathi’s pupils were pinpricks as they swivelled towards the door. Shadows danced through the gap underneath it as fingers clawed. “They’re right outside—”

  “They’re a distraction. There won’t be more than two of them.” Clare searched for a bulky object she could lift and settled on a folding chair. She raised it and stepped towards the door. “Open it.”

  Unathi shook her head, the horror and denial stark on her features.

  Clare tilted her head forward, pouring force into her words. “Open it!”

  She obeyed, grasping the handle and wrenching the door open before flattening herself against the wall with a gasp.