Resistant Box Set
Page 24
They came to the basement floor. There was a row of doors, each thick and plain, not like the decorative and beautiful doors on the first floor. These doors weren’t meant to be seen by visitors. They’d been built for purpose, to last a long time. Much better, Dana thought. She’d take purpose over design any day.
Dana threw the door open, leapt inside, held it open a moment for Hugo, who rushed in behind her, and slammed the door closed.
They stood there, in pitch darkness, puffing and panting, getting their breath back. It was cool in here, the air passing with confidence down their throats, sating them better than a glass of ice cold water.
“Thank… Thank God… for… for that…” Hugo said between gulping mouthfuls of oxygen.
Dana could hear the merriment in his voice. Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one.
Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Chapter Eight
DANA FELT along the wall. The door had to be here somewhere!
Just a moment ago she had been relieved. They were finally somewhere safe. And now the door appeared to have disappeared, melting into the wall. They couldn’t see the handle. They were doomed.
Suddenly, a burst of pure light.
“There!” Hugo said. “The handle’s there!”
Hugo had thought quickly, turning on the torch attached to his rifle. Dana cursed herself for not thinking of it herself, but not before she pressed the door and threw it open. It was one of those emergency exit doors where you push on it to release the lock. Dana practically fell through it and back onto the landing of the first basement floor.
Hugo followed her. Dana caught sight of the grim reality of the undead in the light that illuminated the room. She slammed the door in their faces. They banged against it.
Dana stepped back. There was no way the undead were going to fail to get through. One of them would accidentally push at the door at some point, out into the stairwell.
There was nothing to lock the door nor block it with. They couldn’t worry about it now. They had to move on. The heat was already pervading the basement floor and it wouldn’t be long before it was scorched like the rest of the city.
“Come on!” Dana said.
She ran down the stairs to the next level, Hugo on her heels. The next level was identical to the previous one in layout and design. Simplistic and functional. It was a storage area of some sort, but that hardly mattered now they were here in relative safety. It wouldn’t matter if they were in a strip club or the worst dive in the world so long as it provided them with safety.
The undead from the room above had evidently managed to push the emergency door open and were now stumbling around. One of the creatures fell down the stairs, its body rolled end over end, an avalanche of human body parts.
It didn’t move, and Dana hoped for the best—that it had taken the fall badly and would not move again.
Then the creature began to stir, pushing itself up onto its hands. Its head swivelled round like its spine had been fractured, no longer connected to its body. It glared at Dana and began to push itself up onto its feet.
Another undead pitched down the stairs. Dana was already moving backwards.
“In here!” Hugo said.
He held a door open for Dana to enter first.
“Did you-?” Dana said.
“It’s empty,” Hugo said. “Get it, quick!”
Dana did something she hadn’t done in a very long time, and trusted him. She ran headfirst into the room. Hugo followed in behind her. They were panting once again, but this time they were wary, and held their rifles at the surrounding darkness.
The noise of the door shutting would have been enough to get the attention of any undead that might have been in the room. But none emerged nor made a sound. That didn’t mean there weren’t any in the room, but it did mean they were incapacitated in some way.
“Look for a light,” Dana said.
They turned their torchlight to the wall area around the door, the most likely place to find the lightswitch.
There wasn’t one.
It wasn’t for another thirty seconds that Hugo reached up and pulled a string. The light blinked before casting a glow over the space. It was indeed empty of undead.
It was a small room, with free-standing shelving on one side and filing cabinets on the other. Not big enough to hide any nasty surprises.
Thud!
Thud thud thud!
The undead had made it down the stairs and were trying to get into the room. They didn’t have much chance, but even a little chance was enough for these creatures to slide their slimy fingers in through.
Dana shouldered her rifle, not wanting to put it down anywhere out of reach, and moved to one of the filing cabinets.
“Give me a hand with this,” Dana said.
Luckily for them it was only half full. They succeeded in shuffling it toward the door. It wouldn’t offer much resistance, but when a difference of just a few seconds meant life or death, it meant the world.
Chapter Nine
THE THUDDING on the other side of the door slowed gradually to a stop. It had happened several times already. Dana didn’t hold much faith this would finally be the last.
“I think they’re gone,” Hugo whispered.
“Finished,” Dana said. “Not gone.”
She was right. The undead started again a few seconds later, sporadic and without consistency. The other doors along the hall were getting the same treatment.
She knew full well the undead hadn’t gone anywhere. They were outside their room, standing around, forgetting what they were doing there, probably didn’t know in the first place.
They had nowhere to go, didn’t know where they should go, and wouldn’t go even if they did. Dana didn’t look forward to what she would have to do in order to get out of this hole. But for now they were safe.
For now. Always for now.
Hugo was holding an object in his hand, and used it to move around his fingers, practicing his dexterity. It was a long object, shaped something like a gun, with a trigger and gauge on the side.
“What’s that?” Dana said.
“A body temperature thermometer,” Hugo said. “I think.”
“Where’d you get it?” Dana said.
“In here,” Hugo said. “On that box over there.”
“What would that be doing in here?” Dana said.
Hugo shrugged.
“I don’t know,” he said. “To check someone’s temperature, I guess.”
Dana rolled her eyes. She asked for that one.
Hugo put the business end of the thermometer gun in his ear and pulled the trigger. The lights flashed on the side, forming a circle. Yellow, green, red. A number appeared.
“Jesus!” Hugo said. “I’m burning up!”
He put a hand to his forehead and frowned.
“Weird,” he said. “I feel cold.”
“So what?” Dana said. “I think we’ve got more pressing concerns right now, don’t you?”
“If my temperature gets too high, it’s game over,” Hugo said. “So yeah, I think it’s a pretty pressing concern.”
“What’s your temperature now?” Dana said.
“One hundred one point six,” Hugo said.
“What’s normal?” Dana said.
“Ninety-eight point six,” Hugo said.
“So that’s only a difference of like, two degrees,” Dana said.
“It’s one degree over normal daily fluctuations,” Hugo said. “It means I’ve probably got an infection.”
“An infection?” Dana said. “Maybe that’s part of what the virus does. What happens if you get a really high temperature?”
“Eventually?” Hugo said. “Organ failure, septicemia, death.”
“How high does your temperature have to be before you start suffering those effects?”
“One hundred and five point eight,” Hugo said.
Dana hesitantly put the device to her own ear and pulled the trigger. The li
ghts on the machine flashed and then another number appeared. 102.3.
A pause.
“But maybe it’s nothing,” Hugo said.
But it was too late. He had already said his piece. Dana was a dead girl walking.
Finally, the knocking on the door stopped. Dana began to hear the individual zombie voices that had been indistinguishable from each other before. She could hear the varying cadence to their groans. Personality, perhaps. It humanized them, took the edge off the terror they brought.
She supposed it was to be expected. They were still physical creatures, and the sounds they made would be related to the size and shape of their throats and how they breathed, any respiratory problems they had and the like.
“There’s something about this I don’t understand,” Hugo said.
“Just one thing?” Dana said.
“You know what I mean,” Hugo said. “This place, the university, was meant to be a safe place, locked down. But it’s been destroyed. Something got in here and the military couldn’t keep it out. This was meant to be a new start for the human race. The Eden Project. If we can’t even protect ourselves against them when our very existence depends on it, how are we going to stand against them at all?”
“I don’t know,” Dana said.
Dana didn’t care about the rest of the species. She only cared about one member of it.
“I’m sorry,” Hugo said. “I didn’t think…”
“It’s fine,” Dana said. “I’m sure she got out okay.”
Hugo had just pointed out the thought that Dana had had on her mind ever since they had gotten here. The university had been effectively destroyed, decimated, and there hadn’t been any sign of her sister, Max. Though Dana could have gone spare at the idea, she had not. The reason? Because she believed her sister had gotten out of there alive, along with the rest of the soldiers.
Her mind had blocked off any other avenues of possibility, not because she refused to believe it, but because to believe the opposite, that her sister had been murdered by these creatures, caught in a crossfire, or otherwise killed, would have destroyed her. She wouldn’t allow herself to contemplate it. She couldn’t.
“How did you know that earlier?” Hugo said.
“Know what?” Dana said.
“About the men at the barricade,” Hugo said. “How did you know they weren’t who they said they were?”
“I didn’t know,” Dana said. “I just sensed it.”
“Then how did you sense it?” Hugo said.
Dana shrugged.
“I don’t know,” she said. “How does a bird know where to migrate? How does an elephant know where to find water in a desert? They just do.”
Hugo shook his head.
“I think it must be one of those things that you’re born with,” he said. “It makes no sense to me. I could never do that. My father would have loved you as his son.”
Hugo’s shoulders slumped and he looked defeated again.
“I’m sure you have lots of strengths,” Dana said.
“Like what?” Hugo said.
Dana had to give it some thought.
“You know about the future,” Dana said. “You know how things are going to pan out. You know what will happen before they play out.”
“Everyone can do that,” Hugo said.
“I think you’d be surprised,” Dana said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next.”
Hugo snorted.
“It’s true,” Dana said. “When I take action and do the things I do, I don’t know what’s going to happen. I just do it. I just hope things pan out. Somehow, so far, they always do.”
”You mean to tell me there was no plan for those things we did?” Hugo said.
“Besides having to survive through it?” Dana said. “Nope.”
Hugo paled.
“Then you’re not as gifted as I thought,” he said. “You’re a maniac.”
Dana smiled.
“Glad you finally realized,” she said. “Anyway, we’re here now. We’ll get all the answers we need once we get out of here. We might as well rest. We’re going to need to be strong when we face the undead outside our door and fight to get ourselves out of here. Sleep. I’ll take first watch.”
Hugo lay on the floor, shifted for a few moments, and then became still. His head lolled to one side and he fell asleep. When you were tired, you could sleep anywhere.
Until now, Dana had thought her plan for Max was simple—get to the university, spring Max free, and then get somewhere safe. Perhaps she had been naive. She assumed she would figure out the details as she went. After all, it didn’t help to make detailed plans if you didn’t know enough about the situation to begin with and-
Tap, tap, tap.
The sound was new, at least it hadn’t registered in Dana’s hearing before. It was probably a one-off. A pipe heating up rapidly or something hanging from a walker. She shrugged.
Tap, tap, tap.
It was enough to fix a direction this time. It was coming from the other side of the room. From behind the small pressure door with the wheel on the front. Dana got to her feet, slowly, so as to make as little noise as possible.
Tap, tap, tap.
“Ngh?” Hugo said, rousing from sleep. “What’s that?”
“Tapping,” Dana said.
Hugo peered around and then laid his head back down.
“It’s coming from behind this wall,” Dana said.
She moved to the back of the room and began moving the boxes that had been piled there. Hugo got to his feet, groggy and slow.
“Oh my God,” Hugo said.
He was right to be shocked, Dana thought. Behind the stack of boxes was a door. It was a small door, half the height of the room, which wasn’t high at all. It had a circle on the front, one of those wheels that you spin to unlock the door like something you’d find on a submarine. It was attached to a wall that divided the room in two. It was impossible to tell the size of the room on the other side, but here it was.
Tap, tap, tap.
Dana pressed her hand against the thick metal of the door. Her hand trembled.
Tap, tap, tap.
“Probably just a cooling pipe or something,” Hugo said.
Dana felt a chill run through her. She’d thought the same. But she had a bad feeling that wasn’t the case.
She raised her hand and knocked gently on the door, three solid raps with her knuckles. Tap, tap, tap.
There was a pause, and then the response came back.
Tap, tap, tap.
Then Dana knocked twice. Tap, tap.
Tap, tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Dana drew a shocked gasp into her body, her hand flying up and smacking herself in the mouth. She took a step back.
“What?” Hugo said. “What is it?”
Dana could hardly believe it, could hardly bring herself to accept what she had just discovered.
“There’s someone in there,” Dana said. “Someone is in that room.”
Chapter Ten
HUGO ANSWERED her declaration with muted silence. Then he found his voice.
“There can’t be someone in that room,” he said. “There just can’t.”
“There is,” Dana said.
Hugo blinked rapidly, assimilating the information.
“If someone is in there…” he shook his head. “How are we going to communicate with them? Do you know Morse Code?”
“Maybe we don’t need to know Morse Code,” Dana said. “Maybe the reason this person on the other side of the door starting tapping is because they heard our voices. Maybe that’s why they started knocking.”
“So you’re saying they can hear what we’re saying right now?” Hugo said.
“It’s a theory,” Dana said.
“Then why wouldn’t they talk back?” Hugo said.
Dana shrugged.
“Who knows?” she said.
She looked up at the door. There was a circle of
glass in it, but when she peered into it, she saw just darkness. If someone was in there, why wouldn’t they press themselves against the glass, show themselves? They could be hurt, Dana thought. They might not be able to walk.
“We should try asking some questions,” Hugo said.
Dana crouched and put her hand to the door.
“We want to ask some questions,” she said. “Tap once for yes, twice for no. If you’re not sure, don’t tap. Do you understand?”
Tap.
Hugo’s breath caught in his throat. There really was someone in there.
“Are you alone?” Dana said.
Tap, tap.
“Are you the only living person in there?” Dana said.
Tap.
“Are you my sister, Max?” Dana said.
Her mouth felt dry. She wasn’t sure if she wanted her sister to be in there or not. At least then she would know where she was, but what kind of condition would she be in if they did manage to get the door open?
Tap.
Dana’s breath hitched in her throat.
Tap.
Two taps. No.
Dana’s shoulders slumped.
“I have a little sister called Max,” Dana said. “She has blonde hair and green eyes, have you seen her?”
Tap.
Hope returned and routed out the fear in Dana’s heart. The next question would be difficult.
“Is she okay?” Dana said.
They waited, but there was no answer. She didn’t know.
“Is she in there with you?” Dana said. “Is she one of the undead?”
Tap, tap.
“Do you know where she is?” Dana said.
Tap.
It was enough. Dana would get this person out of there, no matter what it took or how long. She would get them out. Dana put her hands on the wheel lock.
“What are you doing?” Hugo said.
“Getting him out of there,” Dana said. “He knows where Max is.”
“Open that door, and the undead will come out at us,” Hugo said. “I agree we need to get this person out of there, but we need more information first.”