Infected

by V. A. Brandon

  Earlier in the day, Amy had wandered through this same path to search for Patrick. The floor plan still fresh in her mind, she urged Marie forward until they reached the last room at the end. She remembered that it was a spacious bedroom, with a walk-in closet and a bathroom en suite that featured French doors leading to a balcony. If one of the Runners somehow followed them up here, Amy and Marie would have no choice but to step out into the balcony and hide on the roof.

  Once they entered the bedroom, Amy firmly closed the door behind them. There was no lock except for a flimsy-looking door chain. It would have to do. She put that in place and ushered Marie and Walter toward the walk-in closet that led to the en suite. Before shutting themselves in, Amy fumbled around in the closet, looking for anything that remotely resembled a weapon.

  She yanked out two loose closet rods and shuffled inside the en suite, slamming the door shut on the way. After handing a rod to Marie, she huddled beside her friend near the French doors, with Walter squashed between them. Marie dutifully calmed the dog down with soothing strokes, the other hand wrapped around his snout.

  “Where did they come from?” Marie asked, and Amy stared at her, bewildered.

  “I have no idea. It could be a horde passing by, or just a few stragglers that happened to stumble this way.” Now that Amy had the presence of mind to think straight, she realized something even more troublesome. “Oh, no,” she exhaled, casting a wide-eyed glance at Marie. “Patrick’s out there.”

  The Korean woman shook her head in dismay. “This is not good.”

  Amy peered through the French doors, hoping that Patrick was out there, blissfully unaware of what was happening inside the mansion. She hoped that the Runners had come from the road and not from the woods, where the older man was currently taking refuge.

  A muffled growl issued from Walter’s snout, and the dog writhed in Marie’s arms.

  Stiffening, Marie hugged the dog even closer to her chest. “Something is on the second floor,” she whispered.

  Amy heard dull thudding noises against the doors. The sounds grew louder.

  It’s coming down the hallway.

  One of the Runners had climbed up the stairs. Had it seen the women going up? Had it followed them up here?

  Not knowing what else to do, Amy stood on shaky legs and held out the closet rod before her. The rod felt useless in her hands; it would be as effective as walloping the Runner over the head with a rubber chicken. The inappropriate image caused a half-cry, half-laugh to bubble from her throat, and she thought, I’m losing it. I’ve officially gone off the deep end.

  “Please be quiet,” Marie pleaded from behind. Worry filled her voice; the poor woman probably thought that Amy was growing hysterical, which wasn’t entirely wrong.

  Amy calmed down at once. “Sorry about that.” She paused, contemplating the dog in Marie’s arms. “I’ll need your help. Can you put Walter out on the balcony? And close the door, all right? The last thing we need is for him to get in our way.”

  With a nod, Marie yanked at one of her long sleeves until it tore at the seams. She tied the piece of cloth firmly around Walter’s snout and put him outside.

  “Stay quiet, Walter,” she commanded. “Quiet. Good boy.” And she closed the French doors before him. The dog whined, then jumped on his hind legs, placing his front paws on the glass for balance.

  Something thudded against the bedroom door. A long pause, and then another thud.

  Amy and Marie waited with bated breath.

  Nothing else happened.

  “I think it is gone,” Marie murmured. “Maybe it went down the stairs again.”

  “You’re probably right. But let’s wait for a few more minutes before we –”

  A massive tearing sound, like splintering wood, reached their ears. Seconds later, the door came crashing down, followed by a drawn-out snarl.

  Walter began scratching at the glass in earnest, his barks muffled.

  There was no way Amy and Marie could defend themselves with closet rods; they weren’t strong or sharp enough to pierce flesh, let alone a skull. Amy didn’t waste another second. She grabbed Marie by the upper arm and pulled her toward the balcony, opening and closing the glass doors as quietly as she could. Understanding immediately, the Korean woman scooped Walter into her arms and climbed onto the balustrade, but soon paused. She glanced down at Amy, a tremulous smile on her lips.

  “The roof is too high.”

  Amy climbed onto the opposite side of the balustrade, balancing herself by grabbing hold of the eave. “Just avoid the French doors and stay out of sight,” she whispered back. She wanted to say more, but the Runner had entered the walk-in closet, and was now slamming against the fragile en suite door. Frightened, Amy glanced downward as sounds of splintering wood once again filled the room behind her. If they jumped, would the impact break their legs? Or just sprain their ankles?

  She froze in fear when she realized the Runner had pressed its face against the French doors. The pads of its fingers ran down the glass. Squeeeeak.

  Could it see them? Were its eyes darting left and right, trying to catch a glimpse? Did it know they were out there?

  To Amy’s left, Marie was struggling to hold on to Walter and keep them from falling off the ledge. Walter scrabbled on her shirt, a long, sad whine issuing from his clamped snout as he slowly slipped from her one-arm grip. In desperation, Marie let go of the eave and slid down into a kneeling position to cradle Walter on her lap.

  The Runner must have seen her knees jutting into its periphery, because it snarled through the thin gap between the two doors.

  Amy closed her eyes, readying herself for the worst.

  The doors banged open and the Runner rushed onto the balcony. Startled, Walter writhed in Marie’s arms, causing the Korean woman to lose her tentative balance on the balustrade. Her mouth stretched into a silent ‘O’ as she teetered off the ledge and toppled to the ground, Walter close behind. Pained, muffled yelps reached Amy’s ears, along with soft groans.

  The Runner hissed, about to jump off the balcony, when shouts and thudding footsteps came from inside the en suite. As the Runner turned around, a fire poker flew past the open French doors and pierced the Runner through the head, right between the eyes. Death came instantly. The dead Runner slumped to the floor, the fire poker firmly imbedded through its skull.

  Justin rushed forward into the balcony with his bloodied bat, his hair a disheveled mess.

  “Who threw that?” Amy breathed.

  He hurried over and helped her down. “Daniel,” he answered. “He went back to check on Marie. We should too, by the way.”

  “Of course.”

  They made their way down the staircase, mindful of the steps in the dark. As they stepped outside, they saw Daniel tending to his wife, who was sitting up. Her face grimaced in pain when he pressed down lightly on her ankle. Luckily, it didn’t seem broken, but it was swelling up pretty fast.

  “Stop,” she panted, pushing her husband’s hand away. “You are hurting me.”

  Beside her, Walter whined and moved a little closer.

  “What about the mutt?” Amy asked. “Is he okay?”

  Marie smiled, then stiffened when her husband started poking at her ankle again. “Stop that,” she snapped, then turned to Amy. “Yes, Walter is okay. He bounced on me, and then fell on the ground. He will be all right.”

  “But you are not!” Daniel said angrily. He leaned down, picked up his wife, and carried her into the mansion, muttering under his breath. Immediately, Walter trailed behind them. Exchanging a glance, Justin and Amy did the same, but at a respectable distance – the Korean couple were arguing in their native tongue again.

  Once inside, the group settled near the foyer, away from the broken window and scattered glass. Amy quickly sat down and tucked her legs beneath her. Now that they were safe, she was burning with questions.

  “Where did the Runners come from? Did a horde just go past us?”

  Justin shook
his head. “No, it wasn’t a horde. It was a couple of stragglers that just happened to be nearby.”

  “I don’t get it,” Amy pressed on. “We haven’t seen any Runners here since we arrived. So where did they come from?”

  After bandaging his wife’s ankle, Daniel lifted his head and glanced at Justin, his brows knotted. “I think they came from the highway, after we returned from the test run in the morning. Maybe they wandered on the road and finally reached us at night.” His eyes lowered, as if in guilt. “Also, I think the screams and the fight in the woods brought them in our direction.”

  That made sense to Amy. It also meant that more Runners could start wandering this way, if they hadn’t begun to do so already. Green Hill Clinic was no longer safe.

  “We leave tomorrow morning, just like we planned,” Amy said to Justin. “And” – here, she darted a quick look at Marie – “we bring Patrick along with us. There’s no way we can leave him at the clinic now.”

  A long stretch of silence filled the semi-darkness. Finally, Marie nodded in agreement.

  “You are right, Amy. All of us must survive first. Later, when we are at the farm, we can talk about Patrick again.”

  Relieved, Amy turned to address Daniel. “Are you okay with that decision?”

  The Korean man didn’t look happy, but he gave a curt nod in reply.

  Justin rose to his feet. “In that case, we’d better go and check on Patrick. He should spend the rest of the night here with us.”

  “I’ll come with you.” Amy joined him at the foyer, picking up a couple of flashlights on the way. She heard a snuffling noise at her feet, and looked down to find Walter waiting impatiently at the door.

  “Stay here, boy,” Justin commanded. “I don’t want you wandering around the grounds at night.”

  “Maybe he has to pee,” Amy said.

  “Then let him pee on the bathroom floor,” he answered. “Everyone stays inside. No exceptions.”

  They stepped outside, and Amy nudged the stubborn pooch back into the foyer with her foot before closing the door.

  Quietly, they made their way toward the woods, on the lookout for any signs of movement. The woods were pitch-black, the silhouetted trees tall and menacing. Amy shivered and huddled closer to Justin as he turned his flashlight on.

  “You think he’s okay?” she asked.

  “Why wouldn’t he be?”

  “Gee, I don’t know . . . maybe because we just had a couple of Runners roaming these very grounds?”

  “The Runners came up the road from the highway,” he said, frowning down at her. “They didn’t even venture into the woods.”

  “That’s the theory, anyway.”

  Justin came to a standstill. “Okay, what’s going on? Why are you being so short with me?”

  “I’m not.” But she was. To be honest, it was the accumulation of everything – her close encounter with the Runner on the balcony, her blurry recollection of something waking her at night besides the nightmare, and to top it all off, Justin’s insistence that their breakup had solely been her doing. She hated that a small part of herself agreed with this assessment.

  Inadvertently influenced by her stepfather’s constant snide remarks, she’d come to believe that Justin truly was out of her league – that one day, he would dump her when someone better came along. To avoid getting hurt, she had halfheartedly suggested a break. And to add salt to her wounds, he had offered friendship on the spot.

  Maybe Justin was right; her hang-up had ruined a perfectly good relationship. But it was too late for regrets now.

  Amy tried to smile. “I’m not,” she repeated. “Really. Sorry, Justin . . . I guess I’m still a bit rattled about everything that’s happened.”

  His eyes softened in understanding. “C’mon. Let’s not keep Patrick waiting.” Pulling her closer to him, he swept the beam of the flashlight across the ground before they entered the woods.

  They immediately headed toward the area where they had last seen the older man – battered, bruised, and quite unrepentant of his deeds. Just as Amy was wondering if he was nearby, Justin called out, “Patrick? Are you there?”

  “Shhh!” she hissed fiercely, nudging him with her elbow. In the eerily quiet darkness, even his normal voice sounded like a shout.

  He sighed. “Guess we’ll have to search around. He can’t be too far off, though.”

  Amy turned on her own flashlight. “Maybe we should split up,” she said. “Let’s meet back here in ten minutes. If we still haven’t found him by then, we’ll just head back to the mansion.”

  Indecision flickered across Justin’s face. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “It’ll be faster that way,” she pointed out. “Besides, you said the Runners came from the highway. So the woods should be free of Runners, right?” When he delayed to respond, she headed toward the left. “See you in ten minutes, on the dot.”

  “All right, then. Holler if you see anything.” And he reluctantly made his way in the opposite direction.

  Amy scanned the flashlight across the trees, feeling a surge of irritation. Where had Patrick gone off to? She whispered his name, keeping her senses on high alert as she avoided stepping on fallen branches and slippery leaves. The sensible thing to do would have been to stay near the stream where fresh water was readily available, not venture deeper into the woods. Then again, was there ever a time when the older man displayed any common sense?

  Minutes later, Amy stumbled upon an empty stew can. She quickened her footsteps and found contents from Patrick’s first aid kit carelessly strewn across the dirt floor. A few paces away, his small backpack leaned against a rough tree trunk.

  “Patrick?” Amy whispered loudly, flicking her flashlight back and forth. “Are you here? Patrick?”

  But only the sounds of rustling leaves overhead greeted her.

  Chapter 6

  When Amy and Justin returned to the mansion, Daniel and Marie were fast asleep, warmly buried underneath their blankets. Beside them, Walter gave a mighty yawn and pressed his cold nose deeper into his blanket nest.

  Amy snuggled under her blanket and leaned against the wall. “Do you think he left?” she whispered, worry filling her voice.

  With a shrug, Justin settled down next to her. “It’s possible.”

  “But why leave his stuff behind? That’s not like Patrick at all. You know he’s a hoarder when it comes to food.”

  “I’m sure he’s on the clinic grounds. Maybe he heard the Runners, freaked out, and sought refuge elsewhere. He probably didn’t have time to pack his things up.” Justin reached out to caress Amy’s shoulder, his touch light and soothing. “We’ll search for him again tomorrow morning. He’s bound to turn up sooner or later.”

  Justin’s words took the tension off Amy. Patrick’s absence would cause a day’s delay, but that was preferable to simply abandoning a person, no matter how annoying said person was. Comforted, Amy scooted closer to Justin, sighing in exhaustion as she felt his arm gather her in. The warmth, coupled with the close proximity of another human being, lulled her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  ***

  The next morning, the group quickly scarfed down a simple meal of chunky vegetable soup before continuing with their search. Daniel offered to join Amy and Justin, but Amy adamantly refused his help.

  “You should stay with your wife,” she said, nodding at Marie’s sprained ankle. “In fact, why don’t you start loading the food boxes into the station wagon? We might as well take them with us, since Patrick won’t be hanging around here anymore.”

  Daniel inclined his head. “Very well. If you need extra help, please let me know.”

  Amy and Justin headed outside, taking big gulps of the fresh morning air. They decided to go to the woods once more, in the hopes that Patrick had returned for his belongings. Food and water were definitely motives to return, no matter how frightened a person might have been the night before.

  When they reached the spot, they stood
there staring at Patrick’s scattered belongings, untouched since Amy had found them hours ago. So Patrick hadn’t returned by the looks of things. Where could he have gone?

  Justin crouched and began tossing everything into the backpack. “I’m starting to have a bad feeling about this,” he muttered, zipping up the bag and hefting it over his shoulder.

  So was Amy, but she pressed her lips together, unwilling to voice her thoughts.

  They spent some time wandering around the woods, calling out Patrick’s name to no avail. About an hour later, they made their way toward The Peak, just in time to see a hoard of Runners moving across the highway. Amy stood on the hill and observed the hundreds of Runners stumbling and trampling over each other, running as if compelled by some unseen force. Did they never get tired? Would they keep running like this until they were all put out of their misery?

  “Look at them go,” Justin said beside her, and she murmured an absent-minded reply. Her thoughts returned to Patrick once more. If he wasn’t on the grounds, he could be wandering up and down the road. It could be that the injuries he’d sustained were affecting his judgment, and were more severe than they’d realized. Concerned, she voiced this troubling possibility to Justin.

  He nodded slowly. “He could be walking around, disoriented. I didn’t notice anything odd last night, but he could very well be suffering from a minor head trauma.” His expression turned contemplative. “It’s possible that he fell and hit his head hard on the ground during the fight.”

  Amy winced. “That’s awful. We have to find him quickly, before something else finds him first.”

  “Agreed.” He headed back down the hill, and Amy hurried after him. “Daniel and I will take the station wagon and search for him. Meanwhile, I want you to stay with Marie. Patrick could turn up at the mansion at any time, so you need to be here in case that happens.”

  “Don’t stay out there too long, okay?” she said, walking briskly to match his stride. “Just search along the nearby roads. I really doubt he’d have strayed that far off.”

  “Let’s hope so.” Reaching the mansion, Justin went to speak with Daniel, who was bent over trying to pick up three stacked boxes at once. The two men spoke in low tones as Amy walked past them and entered the foyer. She frowned when she saw Marie hobbling around, sweeping the floor as Walter dutifully trailed after her.