Serial Killer Z: Sanctuary

by Philip Harris

Mercy struggled for a moment, then her shoulders sank, and she allowed herself to be led away.

  Parker turned and stared at Captain Harwood. “Someone take that body out to be buried,” she said, her eyes not leaving Harwood’s. “And everyone else, go home. Get some sleep. Tomorrow we’re going to get the bus.”

  Captain Harwood rolled his eyes. “The bus is a waste of time.”

  “No, it isn’t. It’s how we do exactly what you said—it’s how we get to Sanctuary.”

  “It must have been out there for months. Even if we can find it, it’s probably not going to start.”

  “Which is why Melissa’s going. She’ll get it started and drive it back here. There’ll be enough room to get everyone to safety, and we won’t have to walk through a forest filled with creatures intent on killing us.”

  “She’s right.” A woman in grease-smeared overalls pushed her way past the crowd. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, leaving a black smudge behind. “I can get that bus going, and I can get us to Sanctuary.”

  Harwood clenched his teeth. Parker noticed it, and it was her turn to smile. She waited, letting the silence drag out. The mechanic, presumably Melissa, looked around the group. She paused when she saw me. I could feel her assessing me, judging me by my appearance. I wondered if she could see the shadow. Then her eyes continued their circle of the crowd.

  “Come on, people,” said Giles. His face was pale, and he had a few flecks of vomit in his beard. He waved his hands around, shooing people away, and the crowd began to disperse. Growing paler by the minute, he directed two men to pick up James’s body, and together they headed toward the south end of the camp.

  Eventually, only Parker, Melissa, Captain Harwood, and I remained.

  If Parker and the others noticed me watching them, they didn’t acknowledge me. Parker was standing toe to toe with Harwood. Melissa casually slipped a large wrench from the pocket of her overalls. She stood protectively next to Parker.

  Parker leaned in even closer to the captain. “You listen to me.” Her voice was quiet but strong. “You may be the captain, but this is my camp, and these are my people. I understand exactly how precarious our situation is.”

  “Do you? Really?”

  “Yes, I do, better than you, it would seem. Everyone is scared, and they need something to cling to, even if it’s the billion-to-one chance that a young boy can survive a bite. I knew James wasn’t going to recover, but we could have bought ourselves a little bit of hope, just for a day or two.”

  “And if he turned and bit someone?”

  “We know the zombies aren’t strong. We have restraints.”

  An image of a zombie strapped inside a metal cage flashed through my head, and I felt the shadow stir.

  “It would have given us time,” continued Parker. “Time for us to get the bus back here.”

  Harwood shook his head. “You and that damned bus. It’s—”

  “It’s our best chance of getting everyone out of here,” Melissa said.

  “I’m in charge of this camp,” Parker said. “Pull another stunt like that, and I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” I swear Harwood puffed out his chest like some arrogant teenager.

  Melissa raised the wrench and rested it almost casually on her shoulder.

  “Quit the bully-boy act,” Parker said. “We need to work together. Take your best people, and go with Melissa to the bus. Make sure she gets it back here.”

  Captain Harwood didn’t respond for several seconds, and I thought he was going to object. Then he nodded.

  “Thank you,” Parker said.

  He gave a half laugh and turned away.

  “Thank you,” Melissa called. Her voice had a breezy, singsong tone, and there was a broad smile on her face. Captain Harwood ignored her.

  Frowning, Parker watched Harwood walk away until Melissa placed a hand tenderly on Parker’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  Parker put her own hand on top of Melissa’s and nodded. “We need to get that bus, Mel.”

  “We will, I promise. I got the car working. Mostly.”

  Parker smiled, but there was no real humor in it. She was watching the men carry James’s body away.

  The shadow and I watched her. She was stronger than I would have expected, but her grip on the camp was slipping, and she knew it. The trip to Sanctuary was probably her last chance to get things under control.

  When Melissa spoke to me, it took me a few seconds to respond.

  “Earth to new guy?” she said.

  I blinked at her for a second. “Sorry, I was miles away.”

  She wiped her hands on her overalls and shook my hand. “I’m Melissa, town grease monkey.”

  “I’m Marcus.”

  She smiled at me. Her face had a softness to it that seemed out of place in this world of violence and despair.

  “Marcus isn’t sure whether he’s going to stay,” Parker said.

  Melissa scowled viciously at me, and for a moment I was taken aback. Then I realized she was exaggerating her annoyance.

  “You tell him we need all the help we can get?” she said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You tell him we’ve lost too many people recently?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You tell him about Sanctuary?”

  “I sure did.”

  Melissa’s eyes narrowed. “In that case, I’m sure he’ll make the right decision eventually.”

  I smiled awkwardly, and I think that was the point I decided I really was going to leave. All I needed to do was wait until dark and slip away.

  Melissa finally stopped frowning. “Well, I’d better get back to the workshop. There’s a couple of loose ends to tie up before dinner.” She paused to smile at me for a second then walked back across the camp.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that,” Parker said.

  I shook my head. “I’ve seen worse.” I’ve done worse, I thought. “It seems like you have a problem with Captain Harwood, though.”

  Parker pressed her lips together, considering her words before she spoke. “I do.”

  “How did you end up in charge instead of him? He seems like the type of person who would take control of a situation like this.”

  “Oh, he is. If I give him an opening, he’ll take it. The only reason he isn’t running the camp is that I got here first. I was leading the group that found this place. It was abandoned. We patched up the fence as best we could and settled in to make the most of it.

  “There were less than a dozen of us back then, not enough to survive. So, we would go out looking for other people. There’s a river a few miles east of here. We spotted Harwood wandering along the bank and picked him up.”

  “You’d think that would make him more grateful.”

  Parker gave a humorless snort but didn’t speak. I wondered if she was regretting her decision to rescue him.

  “What was the rescue mission Harwood brought up?”

  Parker’s face darkened, and her eyes unfocused. She shook her head. “It’s not important. I’m sorry, but I need to check on Mercy.”

  “Of course.”

  “The dinner invite still stands. We’ll find you somewhere to sleep once we’ve eaten.”

  “Thank you.”

  Parker hurried away.

  I looked longingly at a nearby break in the chain-link fence. I could leave now, avoid the pleas I’d inevitably be subjected to in the morning. But it was late. It would be dark soon. I wouldn’t be able to make it back to my cave, and I had no idea where to find a safe place to sleep. I’d stay until morning and then leave before anyone else was awake.

  The scent of death hung in the air. James’s blood had mostly soaked into the ground now, leaving behind a few fragments of pale bone, stark against the bloodstained earth.

  There are prey here, whispered the shadow.

  I clenched my fist, digging my nails into the soft flesh of my palm until it hurt.

  Someone coughed. A man stood
in the doorway of a small building across the other side of what passed for the main street in Hope. He was staring at me, his brow furrowed. I realized how odd I must look, just standing in the street staring at the patch of ground where a young boy had died.

  I raised a hand in greeting, and the man flicked his head at me. Then I began walking, trying to look like I was a normal, functioning human being.

  Chapter 15

  Dinner and a Chat

  I wandered randomly through the camp, keeping moving and steering clear of the inhabitants. They nodded and smiled at me when they saw me, but no one spoke. For that, I was grateful.

  I’ve never been good with people, and I despise small talk. I have no interest in the banal details of other people’s lives and no ability to fake it. My job at the lab had me working closely with a handful of people, at least one of whom had hated me. The facility was small, specialized, and contact with the rest of the research teams was strictly controlled. That had suited me just fine.

  As I walked, I scanned the camp for Alex or Lucy. I had no idea what I’d do if I saw them, other than just make a break for the fence. There was no sign of either of them or the chopper that had rescued them. I took that as a good sign. Surely if Hope had access to a helicopter, they’d have used it to check out Sanctuary. Unless they’d lost it in the ill-fated rescue mission.

  The tents that formed the bulk of the camp lay on either side of a single track that ran from one end of Hope to the other. Most were empty, but there were signs of occupation—clothes, sleeping bags, even one or two pieces of furniture. One had a coffee table, its glass top cracked.

  Parker was sitting inside one of the bigger tents. She was hugging Mercy, her arms wrapped tight around the woman. Mercy’s head was pushed into Parker’s neck, her hands clenched tight. The girl with the limp sat nearby, pale tracks running down her dirt-smeared face.

  Despair hung over the camp, so thick I could almost feel it slowing me down. My mood soured, and the shadow added its own, even blacker thoughts into the mix. The people around me were weak, tired, and easy prey. The shadow could sense the guilt that hung in the air around them.

  I could leave the camp but stay nearby, stalking them and picking them off one by one. The shadow flashed images laced with blood through my mind. The idea began to grow on me, taking root, flourishing in the dark soil of my heart.

  I found myself reaching into my pocket, and it was then I realized the flaw in my plan. My scalpels were still at the cave. I felt a sudden pang of loss. They were my true north, my anchor in the world’s storm. Without them, I was nothing.

  There were two men nearby, one pushing the other in a battered and rusting wheelchair. Both of them were well into old age. The man in the wheelchair let out a crackling, chest-deep cough and spat a wad of phlegm onto the ground. His companion placed a hand on the other’s shoulder. His heavily lined face creased even further with worry.

  How had they managed to survive this long? The few survivors I’d seen since leaving the city had all been young, and even then they’d struggled to stay alive. These men must have been in their seventies, at least. They were almost zombies already.

  I turned away before either of them noticed me and walked back across the camp. I looked longingly at the gate as I passed. No one would stop me if I left now. I could be under the barrier and into the trees in seconds. But the forest at night could be deadly. And the shadow wanted me to stay.

  I forced myself to turn away and headed toward the two largest tents. One was closed and had the familiar Red Cross symbol of a medical tent painted on it. As I got closer, a man, his face streaked with grime and tears, burst out of the tent. He stormed past me, his shoulder glancing against mine. He mumbled an apology then wiped the back of his hand across his face and hurried into one of the smaller tents.

  The second tent acted as the mess hall, and it was well away from the medical tent and its reminders of life’s fragility. The front flaps were pulled wide. As I approached, I caught the smell of boiling rice. My stomach let out a sly gurgle.

  There were six folding tables inside, each one about ten feet long and with integrated bench seating. A seventh table, this one a long wooden trestle, stood at the opposite end of the tent. Three women worked behind it, dishing out bowls of food. Behind them were two huge metal cooking pots on a pair of military-grade gas burners. Steam rose from the containers and hung in the air around the women like clouds draped across a mountain.

  A dozen or so of the camp’s inhabitants sat at the tables in clusters of three or four. A couple of people looked up at me as I walked across the tent, but most of them kept talking to each other or eating their food. The same cloud of despair hung over the people here as in the rest of the camp.

  One of the women behind the table saw me approaching and smiled. “Hi there, you must be new. I’m Joyce.”

  “Marcus.”

  “Well, Marcus, I’m afraid our menu’s pretty limited, but we do have some meat today.” As she spoke she picked up a metal bowl and handed it to another woman behind her, who scooped some rice out of one of the pans and dropped it into the bowl.

  The woman’s eyes flicked past my shoulder. “Oh, hi, Melissa.”

  “Hi, Joyce.”

  Melissa appeared beside me, grease still smudged across her forehead. She looked up at me. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. I’m Melissa.”

  “Marcus.”

  Joyce held out the bowl, now half-filled with rice and a few meager pieces of meat. I took it and picked up a metal fork from the table. I didn’t ask what meat it was.

  “So, what brought you to Hope, Marcus?” Melissa said.

  “Captain Harwood.”

  Melissa laughed. Her voice was light and melodious, the sound incongruous in the dreary surroundings.

  Joyce handed Melissa her own bowl. It was filled higher than mine.

  “Come on,” Melissa said, “let’s talk.”

  My fight-or-flight instinct kicked directly to flight, but I followed her anyway, hoping that she’d at least find us a table to ourselves. She did, but as we sat down, I suddenly wondered if being alone with her might be worse than having to talk to other people.

  Melissa poked around in her bowl for a few seconds then looked up at me. “So, why won’t you stay here?”

  The directness of her question caught me off guard. I sat there with my mouth half-open as I struggled to find an answer. The only response that I could think of was “I’m a killer, and the monster inside me wouldn’t let me rest until I’ve slaughtered everyone in this camp.”

  “I’m not good around people,” I said. “I prefer my own company.”

  “Even if it’s likely to get you killed?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve survived this long on my own.”

  “If you don’t mind me saying, Marcus, you clearly aren’t the surviving-in-the-woods type. You look like crap. You’re thin, pale, and smell like the wrong end of a bear.” She tapped her fork on the edge of her bowl—tink-tink-tink. “I bet this is the closest thing you’ve had to a real meal in months.”

  She wasn’t wrong.

  “I don’t have anything to offer you—the camp, I mean.”

  “Allison said you have medical experience. We alw—”

  “No,” I said, the frustration leaking into my voice. Melissa looked a little shocked. “She was mistaken. I was just an assistant in a research lab, not a physician. I can’t help you.”

  Melissa leaned forward. She reached her hands toward mine, but I pulled away before she could touch me.

  “Please, Marcus. We need everyone we can get. This place might not be perfect, but it’s better than living in the open.”

  “I have a cave.”

  It sounded stupid the moment I said it.

  Melissa laughed again. “Me man. Me have cave,” she said, deepening her voice. Her eyes sparkled mischievously.

  I forced a smile.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, chewing on her li
p and biting back more laughter. “Look, can you at least come with us to get the bus in the morning? I could do with someone to watch my back.”

  “I thought the captain was sending people with you.”

  Melissa looked toward the entrance to the tent as though she expected Captain Harwood to come striding in, summoned by the sound of his name. “Yeah, but I don’t really trust them. I can tell Harwood you’re coming along to learn the ropes or something. Think of it as payment for your food.”

  I almost objected, but I stopped myself. “Where’s the bus?”

  “A few miles east as the crow flies. It’s on the opposite side of the main highway.”

  I made a show of debating Melissa’s suggestion, but I’d already made up my mind. She was right about one thing. Traveling alone was dangerous. If I went with them to the bus, I’d have protection for part of the journey back to the caves. Once we were there, I could slip away. No one would care. They weren’t expecting me to stay anyway.

  “Please, Marcus.”

  I nodded. “Okay, but then I’ll leave.”

  Melissa smiled. “We’ll see how you feel once you’re part of the team.”

  I gave a half smile, knowing exactly how I’d feel.

  She stood. “Eat up, and I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

  Chapter 16

  Poker Faces

  After we’d eaten, Melissa led me through the camp toward a cluster of tents. They were all identical—the sort of brightly colored, easy-to-assemble structures that average families used to take on their average camping trips. It had grown dark while we ate. Some of the tents glowed faintly, lit from within by hanging lamps.

  “You can sleep in tent three,” Melissa said.

  My heart sank a little. Each tent looked big enough to hold four or five people.

  Melissa must have seen my face because she said, “Don’t worry; they don’t bite.”

  I managed a halfhearted smile but had to fight the impulse to check that I was still carrying my knife.

  A man stepped out of one of the tents. I tensed. He was tall and ungainly and moved with an awkward gait that was familiar. I’d met him before. He’d seen me kill, seen the real me. The man smiled when he saw Melissa and bounded unevenly over to her. I thought they were going to hug, but he stopped short.