Damned Are We

by Durman, Jason

The terrifying scream of a Leaper exploded in their ears as one of them saw an opportunity and

  launched itself at Corvo. He cried out in pain as the creature col ided with him and forced him to the

  ground, straddling his waist and digging its talons into his back. Luckily, Markus was right behind

  them and swung his tyre-iron, striking the monster in the back. In howled in pain and leapt away

  across the roofs to avoid the panicked combatant's next swing.

  "Come on Corvo," he panted, helping the old man to his feet. "You aren't dead yet!"

  The intense fear for their lives spurred everyone to make the next jump – across the deep drop

  between buildings – over to the far rooftop as quickly as possible. Once they were al over, Markus

  took point with the tyre-iron while Corvo covered the rear, Jacob having lost his crowbar and

  Samantha's tiny knife being little more than a token gesture in the savage face of a Leaper.

  Their other pursuer crouched down and then soared upward into the air with a mighty leap as its

  arms flailed, flying over the al eyway and landing on top of a rooftop stairwel to Samantha's

  immediate left.

  "Corvo!" she shouted, pointing.

  He cursed and emptied an entire clip firing at the Leaper. It caught two bul ets to an arm and leg and

  screamed in pain, ducking out of sight. Meanwhile, Markus had realised that the nearest building

  was tal er than the one they were currently on. There was no way they would be able to make it to

  that roof.

  "Which way now?" he shouted desperately, over a gargling screech. The two relentless predators must have regrouped, and were now closing in.

  "Get into the stairwel !" Samantha shouted, pointing. "Anything's better than staying out here!"

  Everyone seemed to agree to this, and Markus led the way into the murky stairwel , raising his

  weapon cautiously as Corvo closed the door behind them. They slowly made their way down the

  stairs, ears perked for any noises. A loud crash from above drew their attention.

  "The Leapers are breaking down the door…" Corvo murmured.

  "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

  Two Common Infected stormed out of a hal way to the left on the current landing, their faces bloody

  and eyes wild. Markus swung the tyre-iron, cracking the skul of the man in front. The other one

  bared its teeth and sprang forward, but was stopped in action by Samantha's knife, embedded in its

  heart. Both attackers fel dead, and she quickly wiped the knife blade clean on their clothes.

  "Nice work," Jacob remarked, genuinely surprised.

  Samantha on the other hand, was quite shocked at what she had done. Sure, she acted on instinct

  and saved Markus' life, but Jesus, she had stabbed someone. It was one thing to shoot them, but to

  get up close and personal like that...

  Another crash from upstairs rudely reminded everyone of their current predicament and they

  continued down the stairs. The sounds of commotion had attracted two more Common Infected who

  were bounding up the stairs two at a time, only to be shot dead by Corvo.

  "Come on," he grunted. "We've gotta find somewhere to hole up, or at least somewhere defensible."

  The survivors presently reached the bottom of the stairs and barrel ed out of the fire-door and into

  the street. The scene was quite similar to that of the streets in Fairfield; corpses, rubble and crashed

  cars lay strewn al over the road. There was one salient difference however; everything was charred

  and burned, a grim reminder of the fire-bombing that had occurred here. A thin layer of ash coated

  the pavement.

  "Over there!" Jacob said, pointing across the street to a shop with barred windows. "It's a gun shop!"

  "Those bars ought to keep the Leapers out," Corvo nodded in agreement, leading the way across

  the road.

  Most of the glass of the windows had long been blown-out, but by some miracle, it looked like the

  interior of the store was mostly intact and stil secure. They made their way up to the entrance, only

  to find it locked up tight.

  "Oh crap oh crap oh crap…" Samantha uttered, her eyes flitting about the street in a nervous lookout for incoming threats.

  "Can you pick this lock, Jacob?" Corvo hissed urgently.

  "Already on it," the man grunted as he knelt in front of the door. "I've done this a thousand times…"

  "What were you, some sort of spy?" Markus half-joked, half exclaimed in rising panic.

  "Try petty criminal," the oldest member of the group snorted as he adjusted his grip on the pistol.

  "Lucky for you, Corvo, you're right there," the biker grinned as the door swung open. "Pretty

  surprising, I was expecting a chal enge."

  No one wasted any time piling into the dark gun store and barricading the entrance with all the

  nearby moveable shelves that could be found. In the flurry of movement, Samantha could have

  sworn she saw a fleeting shadow in the street just outside.

  However, just as quickly as she saw it, it was gone.

  Chapter 43

  Once the shop entrance was properly barricaded, the four survivors took to looking around the dark

  store. Samantha never would have pictured Corvo to be openly excited or enthusiastic about

  anything, but she imagined the look on his face as he looked around the displays of firearms was the

  closest she was going to get.

  "Goddamn, it's like Fort Knox in here," he grunted.

  "Why'd you think I picked this store?" Jacob said smugly. "It's defensible, and it has shit we're gonna need." He gestured around him. "Namely guns." With that, he plucked a Beretta 92 semi-automatic and a handful of SIG-Sauer pistols off a nearby shelf for himself and the others.

  "Thanks man."

  The biker ignored Markus in his euphoria. His mood was further improved when he looked into a

  nearby ammunition cabinet. "Attention, shoppers – we have hit the fuckin' mother-load."

  There was silence as the others geared up with what they could find in the ransacked store. He

  whistled in appreciation of an untouched HK MP5 submachine gun, and was positively beaming

  when he snapped a 9mm clip into the slot right before the trigger-guard.

  Markus' eyes widened in surprise at the sight of a Glock 18 machine pistol lying on the front counter.

  Those types of guns could usual y never be found in a gun shop. Perhaps it had been forgotten by

  previous looters who had passed through here.

  Guess that makes me a VIP now…

  "This place even sold holsters," Samantha said happily, buckling one onto her hip and sliding her

  new pistol into it.

  "Thank the Founding Fathers," the biker replied as he fil ed his new holster with ammunition. "And Heckler and Koch. I love those guys."

  "You what?" The young woman smirked, and then feigned concern. "Jacob, are you feeling alright?"

  "Ah, fuck you," he muttered.

  "You're such a gentleman."

  "Hot damn," Corvo's voice drifted from across the store as he procured a brand-new Colt M4 carbine

  for himself. "Now we're talkin'." He raised the automatic rifle to his shoulder and tested its weight.

  Though the barrel was shorter than the M-16, it felt familiar and comfortable.

  "I'd say we have the firepower to take those Leapers if they show up again," Jacob said matter-of-

  factly.

  "As long as they don't get the drop on us."

  While the others fil ed their newly-found holsters with ammunition, and Markus even found a

  weapon-cleaning kit, which was promptly stuffed into Samantha's backpack, Corvo rested the M4

  across
his shoulders and wandered over to the front of the store. He peered cautiously out the

  shattered front windows and bars, but could see neither of the two Leapers that had chased them

  outside. However, he knew from their experiences back in Fairfield just how tenacious this particular

  breed of Infected could be. He highly doubted they had given up so easily.

  He did notice that the street outside was considerably less devastated than the adjacent road.

  Perhaps the gun store was right at the edge of the firebombed district.

  Markus, on the other hand, was looking up at the store's fire-alarm thoughtfully. The Infected were

  attracted to noise, and fire-alarms made a lot of noise. He would have to have a word with Corvo

  about this later. Perhaps they could use it to their advantage.

  Samantha felt a pang of sorrow when she came across a rack of hunting rifles. The Winchester

  Model 70 – 24 inch barrel, rifle scope, bolt-action, gunstock with a wooden finish. The 'Rifleman's

  Rifle'. Her father had owned one, and it was the first weapon she had learned to shoot with. She

  smiled with nostalgia as she picked the nearest one up.

  "I think we're pretty decked out," she said happily. "I'm feeling like Jil Valentine right now."

  "The foxy woman from Resident Evil, right? We ought to get you a mini-skirt to complete the outfit.

  Just sayin'."

  "Jacob, if I was wearing a skirt and you tried to look up it, I would break your nose with the butt of my pistol." Samantha's sharp tone was enough to cow even him.

  "You kids done horsin' around?" Corvo said gruffly, pulling out a can of peaches from the backpack.

  "Looking outside, I'd say that this area escaped the worst of firebombing, which means that most of

  the buildings are intact. It's probably safe enough to rest here and wait out the night, and then

  tomorrow we can look for a supermarket with some real food."

  "That's better than my plan," Jacob remarked.

  "What was that?"

  "I didn't have one."

  The older man glared at him for a moment, before hurling the can up to him. "Why don't you make yourself useful and get that open?"

  While Jacob borrowed Samantha's knife and carved open the can, the remaining bag of pretzels

  was doled out. The fact that they were now down to a single can of peaches in the way of food, and

  that there may or may not be two Leapers waiting out there when they would have to make to make

  the inevitable foray for more food seemed to put everyone back on edge.

  The thought of those two boat people, who would remain unnamed, eating the food that was

  rightful y theirs, made Markus' blood boil. "How far do you think we are from the airport?" he asked shortly, chomping down on a handful of pretzels in what Samantha supposed was the

  most furious way possible.

  "Hard to say," Corvo shrugged. "We'l have a look inside some cars tomorrow. Maybe we can find a street map."

  A highly insubstantial meal of pretzels and canned fruit left everyone feeling hungry, but there was

  nothing to be done about it while it was dark out. Since Markus had managed to sleep back in the

  greenhouse, he volunteered for the first watch while Corvo and Jacob lay down in various places

  throughout the store free of broken glass. Soon, their snores fil ed the air. Samantha, on the other

  hand sat awkwardly in her spot for a little while, before coming over to join Markus.

  "You should be getting some sleep, girl," he said quietly.

  She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the front counter, looking out the window

  in silence.

  "You okay?" her compatriot asked after a little while.

  "I guess…" she sighed, wringing her hands. "It's just… every time I close my eyes, all I see is…

  water."

  Markus pursed his lips.

  "I mean, it's not that big of a deal," Samantha continued. "I've lost count of the amount of near-death experiences that I – we – have had in the past week alone. But it's just… this one was different, you know? When I was sinking down in that river, I knew what was happening – I knew I was going to

  die."

  There was an uncomfortable silence, aside from the moan of a distant Infected, and the flickering of

  burning buildings somewhere nearby.

  "I had a similar problem for the first few days when I met you guys," Markus said suddenly.

  "Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw the safe-room – the place I was ready to cal home until I was

  rescued – and the people there who I was ready to trust like my family."

  His tone had taken a bitter edge, Samantha noticed.

  "And then I saw the door being broken down by the sheer number of Infected pounding on it." He

  looked over at her. "A damn bolted steel door – and it still got busted down. I was able to escape out the back, but the others… God, when they started screaming…"

  His voice broke off at that sentence, and she wrapped a hand around his to give it a reassuring squeeze. He looked back up at her and grimaced.

  "It's like Corvo said – you're going to see some messed-up shit."

  She nodded numbly, recalling the horrifying image of Joe turning before her very eyes back in

  Jameson Hospital.

  "But you have to learn to let it go," the young man continued, giving her hand a squeeze back. "Else you'l never be able to have a moment of peace again, dreaming or awake."

  Samantha thought about what he was saying. Sure, she could dwel on all the horrible things that

  had happened in the past three weeks since the initial outbreak, but what good would it do her, or

  anyone?

  Markus' voice cut into her thoughts. "You going to be okay?"

  "I just feel a little… disconnected." She offered him a wan smile. "I'l be alright, though. Thanks Markus. For asking."

  He smiled back. "You should get some sleep, while you can."

  She nodded and crept back to her place on the hard floor, thinking about their conversation, and

  finally falling into a fitful sleep. Markus sighed, grasped the butt of his pistol reassuringly, and

  hunkered down to wait out the hours until dawn.

  Chapter 44

  21 HOURS UNTIL FAILSAFE

  The rest of the night passed without incident, and each time someone was awoken to take over

  sentry duty, there was nothing to report. In fact, by the time Samantha was shaken awake for her

  watch, when the first rays of sunlight were beginning to appear, not even a single wandering Infected

  had been seen outside.

  The firebombing must have done a real number on the Infected in the area.

  When she took up position at the front counter, she noticed two odd-looking devices, along with a

  piece of scrap paper upon which was scrawled the message: 'DO NOT TOUCH'. She was certain

  that they were bombs of some kind, but Corvo was already asleep before she had the chance to ask

  exactly what kind of battlefield he thought they were walking into.

  Markus was startled awake sometime in the middle of the morning when he heard Samantha's voice

  ringing above him. "Up and at 'em, ladies! It's time to rock 'n' rol !" He looked toward the front counter to see her cheerful y slam their last remaining can of peaches on the counter. "I even made

  breakfast for you al !"

  He smiled, glad to see her so much more animated this morning. "Damn, girl. You

  made breakfast? You're going to make someone very happy someday," he teased.

  "This is just a one-off," she replied with a smirk, popping a piece of the juicy fruit into her mouth.

  " Fruit? What kind of a breakfast is this?" a grouchy voice grumbled from the floor nearby.
"Run down to the shop and see if you can find some bacon."

  "You are such a jerk, Jacob."

  "A handsome jerk."

  Samantha snorted in response as Corvo came over to join her at the counter.

  "Get your asses up," he said gruffly. "We've got a long walk ahead of us today."

  "You back in commando mode already, old man?" Jacob said sarcastical y.

  Corvo shot him a look. "You said it yourself – the army probably won't be here forever. We're on

  borrowed time."

  His words seemed to have their desired effect – everyone was quickly up, buckling on their holsters

  and checking weapons.

  Amidst the preparations, Samantha stole another glance at the strange devices on the front counter.

  "Hey, what are those?"

  Markus grinned, apparently very pleased with himself. "Pipe-bombs, baby."

  Corvo nodded in approval. "His idea. When he woke me for my watch, he even helped me to make

  'em, and then the crazy bastard goes and attaches fire-alarm parts to them."

  "How's that gonna help?" Jacob interjected.

  Markus shrugged. "Fire-alarms are noisy – I figured they might confuse the Infected if we run into a

  large crowd again."

  " When, not if," the biker muttered. "Interesting idea, though. Maybe you aren't as dumb as you look."

  The black man chose not to answer, instead stowing one of the pipe-bombs in his holster while

  passing the other one over to Corvo.

  Samantha slung the Winchester 70 hunting rifle over her shoulder and drew her pistol from its

  holster. She grinned cheekily as she shrugged the stupid Hello Kitty backpack onto her shoulders.

  "This bag so does not match my shoes. Cue 'Princess Bitchface Syndrome'."

  "Please tell me your parents didn't own that book," Markus chuckled.

  "No!" she cried, feigning offense. "I was very responsible for my age!"

  So 'responsible', I flunked out of my first semester at col ege, she grimly reminded herself.

  "We all geared up?" Corvo asked, to which he was answered with two nods and a grunt. "Good.

  Let's head up the street and get clear of the fires. We're completely out of food, so keep your eyes

  peeled for a supermarket, convenience store, anything. Any questions?"

  There were none.

  "Right, let's move out."

  The thick layer of ask covering the road soon coated the soles of everyone's shoes as they walked