by Rosaria, A.
In the clearing near a creek, the huge transport helicopter, the same one used in the attack, stood parked. Maybe he was lucky and Lauryn was still inside, but Ralph had only seen the pilot so far.
The cargo bay in the back was open. Inside, he saw five stands. Three were empty and the remaining two had dirt bikes parked in them. There were at least three others driving around in the area, but he had heard no bikes on his way here. Wherever they were, they must be miles away. The pilot was sitting on a stretcher in a concealed tent twenty yards from the helicopter. She was leisurely reading a book. A black woman, athletic build, and from her body language, not worried about anything that might be lurking beyond the trees.
Ralph crawled back, gathered his things, and strapped his backpack to his back. He slung the SMG over his shoulder and tucked his pistol in his belt. Ralph felt the cold wind against his sweaty face as he made his descent, making sure not to step on any dry twigs as he went. He should have rested more, but he had to take the opportunity now before the soldiers returned. Ralph sneaked closer to the tent. From this side, he could not see her, but she would be sitting with her back to him when he rounded the tent. Ralph slowed his breath, tightened the grip on his SMG, and charged. He aimed at an empty stretcher.
“Luv, you really thought you grab me by surprise?” He heard a melodious voice from behind him. “You took me for a fool, didn’t ya? Now who is the fool?”
Ralph swung around, finger tight on the trigger. She stood close to him, her nose almost touching his as he turned. She smiled. Her pretty face and nice smile didn’t fit the situation they were in. Before he could react, she head-butted his nose. The SMG dropped from his fingers. She chuckled at he staggered back, blood spurting from his nose and over his body armor.
“Gotten all dressed up for me I see. Wanted to surprise me, luv? Well who is surprised now?”
She swept his feet from under him, sending him to the ground. She circled him, still with the nice smile on her face, her big brown eyes set on him. “What a pity you can’t stay, a handsome lad like you.”
She pulled the flap covering her pistol and pulled it out. She cocked it, and aimed at his head. Ralph kicked out, hitting her knee. The pilot cried in surprise as her knee buckled. Before she could take a shot at him, Ralph launched forward and tackled her. He was heavier and managed to pin her down. She was still smiling at him as she squirmed under him. “I’ll get you good for this.”
Ralph punched her hard and bloodied her lips. She spat blood at him. He hit her once more, knocking her out cold.
“You talk too much,” Ralph said as he got off the unconscious woman.
With rope he found around the camp, he tied her to a chair, each foot to a chair leg, and her hands bound to her back. Fifteen minutes in, he decided to wake her. He could not stay much longer. The soldiers could return at any time, and he doubted he would be as lucky as he had been with the talkative bitch. Ralph slapped her. She groaned. He slapped her again. Her eyes opened and she winced. “Why are you hitting me?”
Ralph considered slapping her again. She had as much coming to her for what she done to him. “Where did you take Lauryn?”
“Lauryn who?”
“The girl, the redhead, where is she?”
“Oh, her. Why didn’t you say so first?”
“Where is she?”
“Obviously not here.” She smiled at him. Ralph wondered how she could smile so genuinely when there was no way she could mean him well.
“I know she is not here. I need to know where she is.”
“And if I tell you that, what are you going to do? Jump on a white horse and go galloping to her rescue? Aren’t you Prince Gallant?”
“Tell me!”
She chuckled. He slapped her hard before really knowing what he done. Surprised, he looked at his hand and back at her.
Her smile broadened. “You really must love her.”
He did, and no matter what he did to this woman, it went nowhere. “Please tell me where she is.” He hated the despair in his voice. Ralph pulled his gun. “Tell me!”
“Now don’t go doing something you’ll regret later. I’ll make you this offer once, and only because I like you. Untie me and I’ll tell you everything. Heck, I might fly you to our base. It would be entertaining to see you single-handedly charge a compound with hundreds of soldiers guarding it. How long would you last? One second? Maybe you make it to the gates.”
Ralph put the gun against her head. She sighed. “Have it your way. Show me your map and I’ll point it out.”
Ralph took the map out and showed it to her. “I can’t point at it with my hands bound.”
“Say the coordinates out loud.”
“Smart lad.”
Ralph considered whipping her with the gun to get her to stop smiling at him and talking in the friendly condescending way, but so far harming her had done nothing. After a long silence, she recited the coordinates. She repeated them so he could write them down. “Satisfied, luv?”
Ralph punched the numbers in the navigation system. The location flashed on his screen. Ralph cursed. It was the same ill-fated place they had planned to assault a year ago. They never reached it. He should have known this was the place they would take Lauryn. His group had been avoiding it, wanting to stay out of any confrontation with them.
“Give up,” the pilot said. “No way are you going to break in.”
Ralph gathered his stuff. Shouldered his SMG, and put her pistol in his backpack and the seven grenades he found in a box. He took as much ammo as he could carry from the ammo boxes near the tent. He wished he had a larger backpack and wasn’t alone; they could have stocked up on ammo and weaponry to last them years.
The pilot cocked her head. “You hear that?”
He listened but heard nothing.
“That is the sound of death coming. You won’t make it to the base. Should have let me go.” For the first time, her smile went away. “I would have kept my word.”
He believed her. The way she said it, and the way she looked at him, he believed she was crazy enough to have kept it for whatever nefarious reason. He picked out the sharp whine of dirt bikes coming in from far away.
“But you had to be paranoid and look what it got you.” The smile appeared again. She even showed a row of perfect teeth. “You won’t even make it a mile now. You are dead. I’ll slowly kill you myself.”
Ralph backed away from her.
“Maybe before I kill you, we’ll get to know each other better.” Her eyes promised a lot but nothing good, not for him anyway.
Ralph ran to the helicopter, her laughter chasing him. The sound of the dirt bikes grew louder. It wouldn’t take long for them to arrive. Ralph pulled a bike from the rack.
“You won’t get far,” the pilot screamed. “I’ll get you. I’ll gun you down. Gut your belly from navel to chin.”
Ralph got on the bike and kick-started it. Well maintained, oiled, the engine turned on immediately with a satisfied purr. Ralph revved the engine. He felt the power surge through him. It would do. The tank was full. It would take him to the base, if he managed to escape first.
“I’ll kill you,” the pilot screamed.
Ralph took two grenades out of his backpack. He looked at the pilot and smiled. Hers faltered. He pulled the pins and threw the grenades in the cargo hold. Ralph sped away on the dirt road to the curses of the pilot. The soldiers appeared from the other side, saw him, and went after him. Just as they drove past the helicopter, the grenades went off. Shrapnel shredded the one on the bike lagging behind, the other two drove through the gulf of flames at breakneck speeds after him.
Ralph steered off the road, revving the bike, bracing himself as the low-hanging twigs brushed his face. Behind him, smoke rose where the helicopter was engulfed in flames. The two remaining soldiers sped after him, one hand on the handle, the other holding their SMGs, pointed at him. Ralph zigzagged between trees. Bullets whizzed past him as he made his way deeper into the forest.
The roar of their engines, the rattle of the SMGs, the breaking of twigs under their tires, ruined the long-kept silence in the forest. Ralph swerved around a large boulder, and went over a fallen trunk. The bike propelled into the air. He hit the ground, swerved, and kept himself up. A branch brushed against the bike, shattering the headlight. The soldiers following him took into the air. One crashed, and the other went for him, shooting. Ralph ducked. He felt the bullets whiz over him. He glanced back. The soldier was gaining on him and the one who fell was getting back on the bike. Ralph had gained little with his stunt.
He tried to find his way back to the road, but without a map or the navigation showing him the way, he couldn’t. Each tree looked the same. Maybe he should ask them nicely to stop chasing him so he could get his bearings. No, he had to get rid of them. Ralph took a sharp turn. The soldier slowed down to load his gun. Fuck this, Ralph thought. He swerved the bike around, facing the incoming soldier. He raised his own SMG. The soldier’s eyes widened. Ralph pulled the trigger. The bullets hit the bike but missed the soldier. The soldier, in his surprise, steered away. His bike slipped, skidded, and hit a tree, sending the soldier crashing to the ground. That one wouldn’t be getting on a bike anytime soon; the bike was totaled.
The other soldier got closer. Ralph could stay and try take that one out, or try to lose him. From the trees rose a chorus of moans. Ralph looked over his shoulder. Ten zombies came in fast, trotting, not walking. He cursed, shouldered the SMG, and sped away.
Let the soldiers deal with that.
He took a turn, sped between two tall, thick trees. Hands stuck out from behind the trees, trying to grab him. He skidded and took a turn. More zombies. Hundreds of them. He steered and pulled full throttle. The dead bodies walking zipped by as he sped away. He maneuvered through pockets of them, staying clear of anywhere they grew thick. Ralph saw dead faces everywhere. He kept going, ducking from clawing hands. Evading zombies throwing themselves at him.
Minutes passed.
To his left he saw an opening. He kicked a zombie running at him. He twisted the throttle, tires spun, and he catapulted for the clearing. Zombies closed in on him from the sides, arms stretched, hungry teeth snapping. He whooshed by them and made it to a clearing. From there, he took a small trail leading away from the horde.
He had to hurry back to the main road before nightfall. There was no way he could keep this speed up when he couldn’t see shit. The headlight on the bike was shattered during his wild escape.
Ralph looked back. No zombies chased him anymore. For now, he was safe.
He stopped the bike, took out the navigation, and fumbled with the buttons. A mile in, the dirt road forked to the left and would get him back to the road. Ralph sighed in relief. He looked the bike over. Besides the busted lights, it looked great. His luck was changing, though he still had a long way to go. No matter how long or hard the road to Lauryn was, he would take it, and anyone standing in his way would pay for it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Priss had regained some color to her face. Sarah touched the girl’s forehead, and her brows drew together as she took the girl’s pulse. Priss was burning with a fever and her heart raced. Priss’s eyes clouded and she started babbling again. She had done this in bouts, but they were becoming more frequent. Sarah brushed a strand of hair out of Priss’s face. The girl lurched up and grabbed Sarah.
“You can’t trust anyone. They’ll get us all. They’ll get in and get us.”
Priss started thrashing, trying to get out of bed. Sarah pushed her down with all her weight, pinning Priss to the bed. For someone dying, the short girl had a lot of strength left. Priss sighed and slumped back into her bed. Her skin felt clammy and the color had drained from her face. Still hot, and now sweating, this wasn’t good. Priss’s eyes fell shut. One second the girl was fighting to get out of bed, and the next she lay peacefully snoring.
Something had to be done.
Sarah got up and grabbed her black coat. Somehow, she’d find a way inside the health department. Mr. Ward had shown her the plans. It would be difficult. The storage was underground, the room leading to the stairs guarded, and the door to the storage room locked with a keycard. She tapped her chest pocket and smiled. That wouldn’t be a problem. Mr. Ward had given her his card. Now, she just hoped the guards didn’t know how to change the codes.
Sarah cast a last look at Priss and left the room. Helping the girl was the least she could do.
Sarah slipped out the back door, kept to the shadows, and out of the moonlight. To conserve electricity, the outdoor lights in Haven were dimmed or turned off. An annoyance when you wanted to go somewhere in the evening, but a boon if you didn’t want to be seen. She climbed the fence and lowered herself on the other side. Keeping to the alleys, she made it to the health building.
Sarah crouched behind a trash bin and watched the four-story building. It was a square, brick building with high ceilings and tall windows. Light came from a second floor window; the others were dark. From the plans, she knew the windows were double-pane glass and bulletproof. She wouldn’t be getting in from there. And using the same stunt she pulled at the barracks wasn’t going to work here. No way would she be able to walk in behind someone without being noticed. The guards most likely were on edge and fearful. They would be paranoid of any unknown face. No. She had to go to the back of the building, and from there, a window led to the public toilet. With some luck, the window would be open to ventilate the room.
Sarah looked to her left and right, the street deserted. Hunched over she ran to the other side and into the alley leading to the back of the building. At the window, she stretched out her fingers an inch away from the windowsill. She looked around and then ran up to a garbage container, flipped the lock from the wheels, pushed it under the window, and climbed on top.
Sarah pressed her face against the glass, her hands to the sides of her face. It was dark inside and she sensed no movement. She tried the window. It didn’t budge. From her backpack, she took the soap she took from the Ward residence. She smeared the sticky soap over the glass and pressed an old newspaper against the mush. Satisfied it stuck to the glass, she hit it with her elbow. The shards stuck to the soap and paper,and fell inside with a low thud. Holding her breath, Sarah waited, listening. She exhaled and relaxed her shoulders when no one came to look.
Sarah put on a pair of heavy gloves, lowered her backpack on the bathroom’s tiled floor, and climbed through the window. She was tall for a woman, but slender and athletic, so she had no trouble fitting through the small frame. Sarah held the sill for a second, looked down at the floor beneath her, and let go. Her feet hit the ground, she bent over, and grabbed her backpack. The light coming through the window lit the first tiles in front of her, but beyond that, a thick wall of darkness surrounded her. She had done it. She had actually gotten inside. That had been the easy part. Getting downstairs was another thing, and inside the storage room, a whole lot different, but still, she smiled.
With her hands stretched out, she took one step after the other. Her fingers brushed rough surface. She felt to the side and found the wooden door. Sarah slid her fingers over the door handle, pressed her ear against the door, and listened. Once satisfied that there was nothing on the other side, she pushed the door open. The hallway was dark and deserted. She pushed it open further and slid out. Any other time the darkness would have made her feel jittery, but today she felt safe covered by it.
Sarah walked, her rubber-soled shoes making no sound on the carpeted floor. She ignored the doors at her sides leading to offices. She reached a corner and followed the bend to the left. To her right, the wall ran uninterrupted. To her left, doors led to more offices, and at the end, one door led to the reception area at the front of the building. Sarah opened the door and quickly stepped back. Through the large windows in the reception hall, enough light came in that whomever stood inside could have seen her open the door.
Sarah crouched. Expecting running
footsteps, her heart bounced in her throat, but none came. She inched closer to the now open door and stuck her head out. The room was empty. She shut the door behind her and moved in a crouch over to the reception desk. No sound came from outside or inside, or from upstairs. She had expected to hear movement in the building. There should be people, but the building seemed deserted, an easy take if Terry wanted to assault it.
Sarah made her way to the door behind the reception desk. She tried the handle and gasped when the door gave way. Luck seemed to be on her side today. The room was deserted. Light came from an office lamp on a desk, which cast the room in an eerie orange glow. The door leading to the basement was propped open. She walked over. From below, light shone up. Carefully, she went down the stairs. After every other step, she listened for any sound warning her that someone was coming up, but none came. The light bothered her. Someone must have turned it on.
The staircase made a last bend and soon she would be able to see who was downstairs. Whoever it was would have to have a keycard. It would be impossible to enter the storage room unless they forced their way inside. One step to go, she heard a shuffle. She drew her foot back, choking back a gasp. Her body fell rigid, waiting for whoever to notice her. She had no weapons on her. Mr. Ward had refused to give her a gun. He told her that he would support her breaking in, but not killing. And that coming from someone who was at peace experimenting on people. No. From what she had seen, the man had trouble with that too. That was why he agreed to help her. He was more than willing to let things take their natural course, believing it was better for Priss to heal by herself than to kill someone to extract a cure.
Slowly, Sarah opened her backpack. The shuffle came again. Not close. Not toward her. She pulled out a heavy brass candlestick. She felt silly at first taking it with her, but not so much now. Sarah left her backpack behind. If it came to a fight, she didn’t want to be burdened by it. She gripped the candlestick and descended the remaining steps. The room ahead was nine feet by nine feet. A guard with his back turned to her stood in front of the door. Sarah smiled. This made it way too easy. One good whack to the back of the head and he would be sleeping a sweet, painful dream.
