by Sarra Cannon
Crash took a keyring full of jangling keys from his pocket and unlocked the door leading from the parking garage to the main building.
“Come on, guys,” he said. “Let’s get down to my apartment and get settled. We have a lot to talk about.”
Noah stood and forced his feet forward. He quickly grabbed his duffel bag from the back of the Humvee and followed the others into the dank concrete stairwell. It was almost like he was only half here. Dead man walking. His heart pounded in his ears and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. The others were talking and rushing inside, but Noah could barely even hear them.
All he wanted to do was make sure he was really okay.
What if they’d missed something? What if he had a bite somewhere under his clothes and he turned into one of those things? He’d end up killing someone.
His mouth opened slightly and he struggled to draw a deep breath, wanting to calm his heart. Even his vision was blurred from worry. Or was it the virus working its way through him?
He shuddered and looked up to the second floor landing. The concrete stairs were stained and covered in dirt and filth. The entire place was dark except for the dim light of some emergency bulbs along the floor at each landing.
The door to the second floor was closed, but the sounds of moans echoed throughout the stairwell.
They’d just stepped into a building full of them.
Crash must have secured the doors, because they were all shut tight, but the sounds coming from behind those doors were undeniable.
Noah did not want to become one of them.
He gripped the railing and tapped his toes inside his boots, waiting for the others to make their way down the stairs to the basement. Crash’s apartment must have been down there, and Noah hoped to God he’d been able to soundproof the place. He wasn’t sure how they’d survive listening to these moans all day and night.
Once the others had started down, Noah hiked his bag higher on his shoulder and made his way down behind them. He’d dropped his shotgun outside somewhere, but he still had a pistol and a bat. He liked the shotgun, though, because he didn’t have to be close range to kill. He wondered if Crash had more guns stashed downstairs.
Crash led them down a dark hallway. Water dripped somewhere nearby, the sound of each drop echoing softly around them. There were only a few doors down here, and most of them were unmarked. Electrical closets, maybe? Supply rooms for the building?
Crash stopped near the end of the hall at a door with the numbers 102 nailed to the front, their bronze surface scratched and dirtied.
He went through a series of locks and deadbolts and finally, after cycling through more than ten different keys, pushed the door open and leaned against the wall with a smile.
“Home sweet home.” He motioned for them to go inside and Noah let the three girls go in first before he followed.
Crash shut the door behind them and threw the bolts on all the locks. Noah started to walk past him, but Crash grabbed his arm, holding him back from the others.
“If you find any bites or start to feel strange, you let me know okay?”
Noah nodded. “I will.”
The girls had stopped short in the small entryway, but Crash pushed past them and stepped into the small living room. He flipped a switch and all the lights came on. Smiling, he held his arms out to the side.
Noah squinted up at the bright lights. How the heck did this guy have power?
“I know it’s not much, but it’s safe and it’s clean.” Crash bent down and scooped a pile of clothes off the couch, tossing them into a corner near a large computer desk. “Well, relatively clean.”
“How do you have power?” Karmen asked. “You’ve got a generator?”
A sly smile spread across the Asian’s face. “No generator,” he said. “I’ll explain it later. Come on, I’ll show you guys around.”
No one seemed to know what to do or how to act. They were all covered in blood and grime, their bodies sweaty and sore. They were in a strange place, still trying to make sense of what had happened to them tonight.
“Is there a bathroom?” Noah asked.
Crash nodded. “Of course. I’ll give you guys the grand tour,” he said. He stepped about two feet to the left where faded linoleum curled up at the edges of the grey carpet. “This is the kitchen.”
The kitchen consisted of a single small stained countertop with a shallow sink in the middle. On one side sat a microwave and a small toaster oven. On the other, a stack of paper plates and a tower of plastic red cups.
There was no dishwasher and only a small mini-fridge, but the whole place seemed to still have power. Without a generator, how was that possible? It had looked like all the power in the city and surrounding areas had gone out.
Crash stepped back to a tattered grey carpet stretched over concrete floors. “And this is the living room and dining area.”
There was one long couch covered with a heavy brown blanket. Beside that in the corner was a recliner that looked like it had definitely seen better days.
The other half of the room was completely devoted to Crash’s desk and computer equipment. He had three large monitors sitting side-by-side on the top of the desk with three matching ones mounted to the wall above the desk. Noah had never seen anything like it, and the expensive set-up looked incredibly out of place among the ratty used furniture and fading wallpaper.
Did all that equipment still work? The screens were dark, but the large computer unit under the desk had a red light glowing from the case. Was he still able to get online? And how was that even possible? There were a lot of strange things going on in the world, and Noah couldn’t even begin to make sense of it.
Karmen cleared her throat and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Please tell me there’s more to it than this,” she said.
Parrish threw her bag down on the floor and walked over toward the couch. “There are no rotters in here. Be grateful we have a place to stay where we can relax for a little while,” she said. She turned to Crash. “Thanks again for saving us back there.”
“It was my pleasure,” Crash said, a smile twitching the corners of his mouth. “It was actually kind of cool to get out there and test that machine gun.”
Karmen sighed and slapped her hands against her legs. “Can we please stop with all the formalities?” she asked. “We don’t need a grand tour of your crappy apartment. We don’t need to hear about your obsession with guns. I just want to know what the heck we’re going to do now? How long can we possibly survive in a place like this with those things out there trying to get in? We’re trapped here.”
She collapsed onto the couch and let her head fall into her hands. Her shoulders shook as she began to cry. Noah and Parrish exchanged looks from across the room.
Karmen could be dramatic and bratty, but he knew it was mostly an act. She was a lot more fragile and scared than she wanted anyone to know. He glanced down the small dark hallway to his left and sighed. He wanted to find that bathroom, but he couldn’t just let Karmen cry.
He set his bag on the floor and sat down beside her. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She placed a hand on his bare chest and rested her cheek against his shoulder, not even seeming to care about the blood and stink that covered him.
“Karmen’s right. We do need to talk about what we’re going to do,” he said. “Even more than that, we need to talk about what in the world we just saw. Fighting a group of rotters is one thing, but whatever those amped up ones with the glowing eyes were? No thank you. Where did they even come from? What if this is just the next stage of their evolution?”
A twinge of fear shot through him. What if he was going to become one? He tried to calm his racing heart.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Crash said. He sat down in a rolling chair and pushed against one side of the desk. He skated to the main desk and began typing away on his keyboard. The monitors came to life, their screens buzzing as they powered up. “I
’ve been watching everything from here. Videos, newscasts, forums, blogs. Everything. I can do some research, but I’ve never seen anyone mention zombies with superpowers.”
“What about humans with superpowers?”
Everyone grew quiet and turned to look at the girl still standing near the door. She hadn’t said a word since they’d rescued her over an hour ago.
Her dark eyes stared into the room, giving Noah a slight chill. She seemed different somehow. Strangely beautiful with her dark features and pale skin.
“Good question,” Crash said. He looked around the room, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. His shoulders were hunched and tensed, as if he were about to spill his deepest, darkest secrets. “Before all this started, I was having these dreams. I told some of you about it earlier, but it was weird. They weren’t normal dreams. They felt, I don’t know, real. Like I was seeing my own life, only it wasn’t a memory. It was the future. Maybe. It’s hard to explain. I just knew that it was real. I knew something was coming and that when the time came, I’d have to find the four of you.”
“That’s how you knew we would be at that rescue center?” Karmen asked.
Crash nodded. “And how I knew we’d find the fifth hiding in that closet,” he said. “I dreamed it. All of it.”
“I never got a chance to say thank you for that,” the girl said.
“How long had you been up there alone?” Noah asked. He still didn’t understand what in the world was happening, but this new girl seemed to add more mystery to the whole situation. He wanted to know more about who she was and where she’d come from.
Noah had trusted Crash right away, even if he couldn’t explain it. But this girl…
He wasn’t so sure.
“I don’t know,” she said, leaning against the doorway with her hands crossed around her middle. She shrugged. “Days, maybe. My memory’s a little fuzzy, honestly.”
“What’s your name?” Parrish asked.
The girl hesitated and something strange flashed in her eyes. She straightened awkwardly, her lips parting.
“What’s wrong?” Karmen asked. She sat up, removing her warm hands from Noah’s chest. “Don’t remember your own name?”
Noah bumped his knee against hers. Why did she always have to be so rude to everyone? He knew from the times he’d spent alone with her that she wasn’t always so crass and mean, but damn, get her in a room full of other girls and she had to make sure everyone knew their place. It was beyond aggravating.
The girl shook her head and moved to the edge of Crash’s desk, steadying herself against it. “I don’t have a name,” she said so quietly Noah almost didn’t hear.
“Everyone has a name,” Karmen said.
“Did something happen to you?” Parrish asked. “Were you attacked?”
“I don’t remember,” the girl said. When she looked up, there were tears glistening in her eyes. Noah felt a jolt of regret. Maybe he’d been too quick to judge her. Something was definitely wrong, but maybe she’d really been through some bad shit. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s happening. I can’t remember my own name.”
Her head collapsed into her hands, and Noah immediately wanted to go to her. He started to stand, but Karmen placed her hand on his knee and shook her head. Noah questioned her with his eyes, but she didn’t say anything.
Parrish crossed to her instead. She wrapped her arms around the girl’s shoulder and waited as she cried.
That was two emotional breakdowns in a span of about two minutes. It was understandable considering that everything they’d ever known or loved was gone, but Noah was about to have a breakdown of his own.
He didn’t want to put anyone in danger or send anyone into a panic, but he couldn’t ignore it any longer. He had to get to a bathroom so he could check his wounds. If he’d been bit somewhere, he needed to get out of here.
He shuddered, remembering the feel of all those teeth grating against his flesh. He just couldn’t believe that none of them had pierced the skin. It didn’t make sense.
Noah stood and grabbed his duffel bag. “Is the shower working in this place?” he asked Crash. “I want to wash some of this blood off.”
He didn’t mention he also wanted to check for bite marks, but Crash’s eyes met his in understanding.
“Sure, man. We probably don’t have a lot of hot water, so don’t use too much, but you’re welcome to whatever’s in the bathroom,” he said. “It’s just down the hall to the right.”
Noah nodded and headed for the small bathroom he’d seen off the main hallway.
“Hey,” Parrish called out.
He turned, his stomach tense. He just needed a few minutes to himself. He needed to get his head on straight. “What’s up?”
Parrish’s eyes met his, studying him. She was still holding onto the new girl, patting her back, but her eyes were locked on Noah’s. He didn’t want her to see the fear he carried there, but he knew there was no possible way to hide it from her. Her tight expression softened. She shook her head slightly and turned her attention back to the girl.
Noah took in a deep breath, looked around briefly at the others, and disappeared into the hallway.
The bathroom was small and cramped, every inch of it decorated in olive green tiles, most of them broken or chipped. The small sink had almost zero counter space, so Noah set his bag down on top of the toilet. He yanked off his shoes and stepped out of his blood-soaked pants.
His hands trembled as he turned on the hot water in the shower, letting it run for a second while he checked his legs for bite marks.
He couldn’t find any right away, but he was still soaked in blood and grime. He checked the temperature of the water and stepped inside the small shower.
Blood and dirt dripped onto the green tile at his feet. He grabbed a bar of soap and scrubbed his face, arms, hands. He scrubbed until the water ran clear, all evidence of battle washed down the drain.
He switched off the shower and stood there, leaning against the wall of tiles, trying to get his mind around what had happened to him in the street. He’d searched every inch of his body and there wasn’t a mark on him. Not even a scrape. Nothing.
How is this possible?
Catching his breath, he stepped out of the shower and stood with both hands gripping the pedestal sink.
Noah looked up, meeting his own gaze in the mirror. Steam coated the surface, but he could still make out his own eyes. Those eyes should be milky blue by now. Dead. But somehow, he’d survived. No, not just survived. He hadn’t even been hurt.
But he’d been bitten. He was sure of it. He’d felt it.
Noah’s mind raced. It was just too much to handle. The virus. The death. The uncertainty. He had no idea how long any of them would survive or where they could go. For all he knew, the five of them could be the last people alive in the entire city of Washington D.C. Everything he had ever relied on in his life was gone.
So why was fate sparing him? Why was he still alive?
Thinking about it was almost enough to force him into insanity. He needed to get his shit together. There were four other people out there relying on him now. For whatever reason, they’d all found each other. They’d all survived.
Noah pressed his lips into a thin line and glanced down at his bag. He needed to understand what had happened to him, but he was scared. In some deep part of his mind, he was pretty sure he already knew what had happened, but he needed to see it for himself. He needed to know for certain.
He grabbed the duffel and unzipped the side pocket. He’d stashed a Swiss Army Knife in there right before they’d left his house. It had belonged to his grandfather. He’d grabbed it off his dad’s dresser before they left, sure it would come in handy at some point. Now he was glad he had it.
He pulled the main blade out and ran his fingertip along the edge. Still sharp after all these years.
Noah held his left arm out over the sink, fist clenched. He took a couple deep breaths then pressed the blade again
st his forearm. He imagined his flesh splitting open and running red like a fountain of blood. But in reality, the knife merely skated over the surface of his skin. He felt the sharp pain of the blade, but saw no blood.
He lifted the knife and swallowed. This wasn’t possible. Was the blade too dull?
He tried again, bracing himself for pain. This time, he really dug into his flesh, pressing down so hard that even a dull blade should have cut him. It should have mangled him. But instead, his skin stayed unmarked.
He opened the medicine cabinet and looked through Crash’s things. He found a box of unused shaving blades and tore it open, holding the sharpest edge against his skin.
Noah cut again. And again. He tried his palm. His bicep. His stomach, legs, even his face. But no matter how hard he tried to cut into his skin, the blade never once pierced through. He dropped the razor blade into the sink and stared up at himself again, bringing his hands to his face and rubbing the confusion from his eyes. He wasn’t sure how or why, but he had no doubt in his mind now that on top of his super-human strength and ability to help others heal faster, he’d also somehow developed a hardened skin that couldn’t even be penetrated by a knife.
Or a set of teeth from a hungry rotter.
Noah shook his head as the truth of it began to really sink in. Tears stung his eyes and he smiled slightly, running a hand through his hair.
Holy shit. As the rest of the world lay dying, he had become invincible.
“What is all this?”
Karmen picked herself up off the couch and walked over to Crash’s computer setup. She’d never seen so many monitors and blinking lights. She had some friends who were gamer geeks, but no one she knew had a crazy setup like this. What was this guy’s deal? Did he live here alone?
Crash leaned back in his chair and smiled up at her, his fingers laced behind his head. “This is my pride and joy,” he said. “This is how I’ve been gathering all the information on the spread of the virus.”
“I still don’t understand,” Karmen said. She grabbed her backpack off the floor and tossed it onto the couch. It was covered by two brown blankets and she shuddered to think what the upholstery looked like underneath. Did people really live like this? “How are you the only one in the city with power if you don’t have a generator? And do you mind if I charge my phone?”
