He balled his hands into fists and clenched his jaw. A flash of anger coursed through him, but it dissipated as fast as it had manifested. The voice in the darkness was right. He was weak. He always had been. That’s why he couldn’t save anyone—why he couldn’t kill himself. He was more than weak. He was a failure. The only option left was to let Samuel and his group do what they were going to do to him. The thought wasn’t exactly comforting, but it relieved him of the burden of continuing to bumble through life. He was tired. The fight had left him a long time ago. A few of the knots in his shoulders lessened. He didn’t know what purpose he served or what his place in the universe was, but he was closer to finding answers—whether good or bad. The idea of his immunity brought him a small amount of comfort, and so did the knowledge he didn’t have to keep running. It wasn’t much, but after what he’d been through, it was enough.
Caleb raised his head and stared at the tiles in front of him. They were varying shades of tan with gold veins running across the surface. The grout between was a light gray, flecked with a few areas black with mildew. Water bounced off the top of his head to bead on the surface, then it ran down to the tub in quick rivers. His mind drifted back to his dream, then to the memory.
The bathroom in the warehouse had white tile, but it had faded to gray and was streaked with dust. It had been a mistake to run in there. There was only one way in and out, but it was the only place he could go to get away from the rotting flesh surrounding him. Payton, one of the other survivors with Caleb at the warehouse, shouldn’t have followed him. If Caleb had known at the time he had, he would have made him turn back. Or at least helped him close the door better.
Caleb continued to stare at the rivers of water in the shower, and they transformed in front of his eyes from clear into red-black and thickened. Payton barely had time to scream before the teeth sunk into his flesh. It was more a grunt of surprise and pain. A sound was what made Caleb realize he wasn’t alone.
* * * *
He had just entered the last stall in the bathroom and closed and locked the door softly. He cursed himself in his mind for being in there, for not paying attention to where the others were, but there hadn’t been time. For slow-moving creatures, the zombies attacked unexpectedly and fast. The plan was to hide until the threat passed, then he’d regroup with the others. It wasn’t the first time they’d been separated, so he knew they’d wait for him. He lifted his foot to step onto the toilet when the grunt echoed through the room, followed by a thud and slapping sound. For half a second, Caleb thought about ignoring what was happening, but his conscience wouldn’t let him.
He unlocked the door quietly, his gun pulled, finger on the trigger. He crouched, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. He drew in shallow, silent breaths and placed his cheek against the cold metal of the door. One eye peered through the crack. He couldn’t see much in the bathroom, just a bit of floor and the wall on the opposite side of the room. With painfully deliberate movements, he eased his body out the door, pushing it open a few inches wider, exposing more of himself and getting a better view of the room.
He had no idea what he would find outside his stall door, but he always expected the worst. It was how he’d managed to survive up to this point. The sound made him assume it was a zombie but thinking of that threat in any situation was a safe bet and kept him on his toes.
The flesh where Payton’s neck met his shoulder had been ripped clean off. Blood poured between his fingers as he weakly attempted to cover the wound. Shock and disbelief mingled in his eyes. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water gasping for breath. Caleb’s eyes widened as he took in the scene. He expected something bad, but this exceeded his worst-case scenario. The zombie lay across the top of Payton’s body, its head lifted as it chewed the ragged flesh in its blood-stained teeth. Anguish caught in Caleb’s throat, tightening it and making it hard to breathe. Payton was only ten. He had his whole life ahead of him. It wouldn’t have been much in the zombie-ravaged world, but it would have been better than dying like this. Guilt squeezed Caleb’s chest tighter. He should have paid more attention. He should have checked to see if anyone had followed him.
Caleb fired two shots. Both hit their target. The zombie slumped over Payton’s small frame. Payton’s mouth still hung open, his eyes still open wide. The look wasn’t one of peace, but he was no longer in agony and wouldn’t turn—something Caleb believed was far worse than death. He stood over Payton’s body for a few seconds before crouching down and closing the lifeless eyes. Caleb squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath for several moments. The hollow space in his chest grew larger, sending tendrils of coldness down his arms and into his fingertips. He sucked in a shaky breath and opened his eyes. Caleb’s gaze drifted to the wall. Flecks of blood and skull covered the white, slowing turning into streaks as gravity pulled them to the floor.
* * * *
The taste of salty chocolate settled on his tongue as he became fixated on the memory of the red gore. Caleb squeezed his eyes shut and straightened up in the shower. The thought sickened and scared him. Why would chocolate be his reaction to the memory? What did it say about him? He opened his eyes. Taking a shaky breath, he grabbed the shampoo and squeezed it into his hands. He focused on where he was and what he was doing. It was completely normal and human to be in the shower getting ready for the day. He had to hang on to normal. Numbness settled over him.
He finished cleaning and shut off the water. The plink, plink sound echoed through the bathroom as the water dripped down the drain. Caleb stared at the faucet, not really seeing it. Water dripped from his nose. The scars on his wrists tingled. Payton’s face lingered in his mind’s eye. The look of horror burned into the back of Caleb’s eyeballs. Payton was the first kid he’d seen get attacked. He was the first kid Caleb had to save from becoming undead. It didn’t seem possible the innocence of youth should have to witness and become a victim of such violence and viciousness. Payton should have been playing football or baseball and learning how to write in cursive, not being eaten alive on a dirty bathroom floor.
When has life ever been fair? No one is spared from evil or death. There’s only one way to save yourself from feeling or dealing with a situation like that again. First chance you get to run, you take it. Keep going. Don’t look back.
Caleb agreed with the voice from the darkness. The thoughts of Payton and his body’s reaction to the memory deeply disturbed him. He didn’t know what it meant, but he had an idea—and it involved him being a monster. Caleb couldn’t expose anyone else to what he was potentially becoming. As a human, he had obviously done more damage trying to find answers. What would he do as something else? It didn’t matter what he was capable of. He didn’t care if he could save humanity if these feelings of inadequacy were what he had to go through daily. It would be better for him to be alone. This time would be different. This time the zombies wouldn’t come after him.
Caleb lifted his head and stepped out of the shower. After drying off, he entered his room and pulled on a pair of jeans, a plain black t-shirt, and his hoodie. Samuel had been kind enough to make sure he had all the amenities he needed—except for his freedom. As he sat on the bed and tied his tennis shoes, he wondered how far they’d get him. They were good shoes—new, Nikes, lightweight, and designed for running. Did Samuel realize they were running shoes when he got them? Did he think it was ironic to give them to Caleb knowing he had nowhere to go? Caleb frowned. He’d show Samuel. He stood from the bed and bounced on his toes, then ran in place, building to a sprint.
Yep. These shoes will do.
You just have to find your chance. Be patient. Be smart.
Caleb nodded. “Be patient. Be smart.” He whispered the words to himself. They would become his mantra. He always assumed he had lived by those words in the past, but now he wasn’t sure. It felt like he was more impulsive than anything, and impulsivity hadn’t exactly worked out for him. He was going to change. This time, he would think thin
gs through, and his life would be different.
He stepped into the living room to find Samuel also dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a pair of running shoes. But unlike Caleb’s, Samuel’s shoes were worn out. Caleb made it a point to notice the soles were worn in certain areas on the heel, and he didn’t doubt the tread was worn down. He would attempt to stop Caleb, but he wouldn’t be successful.
“How about we get some breakfast before heading out?”
Caleb shrugged. Like he really had a choice.
Samuel headed for the door and signaled Caleb should follow him. They stepped into a short hall leading to nowhere but elevators. There weren’t any buttons to call it, only a key panel. Caleb was fully aware escaping from Zomtech would be impossible. But escaping wasn’t part of the plan.
Be patient. Be smart.
Samuel pulled the key out of his pocket and stuck it into the lock. The door slid open. He turned and smiled at Caleb, gesturing for him to step into the shiny silver box. Caleb did so without hesitating, and Samuel stepped in next to him. Their shoulders touched, much like they had done on Caleb’s first day; the awkwardness was just as present. This time, though, Caleb didn’t feel the need to improve the situation. He was content with the distance between them.
Using his key, Samuel got the elevator moving. There wasn’t a panel counting the floors, so Caleb wasn’t exactly sure where they were, but beeps sounded, which he assumed counted the floors. After thirty-five, the doors opened, and Caleb stepped into the familiar surroundings of the floor he had come to for the past several months to do his job. Things had seemed so normal then, so mundane. Back then, he rarely ran into his coworkers, but there was life to the place. The buzz of conversations could be heard, along with the click of keyboards as people worked. The loss of this life—this normalcy—was apparent. An eerie silence pervaded the building. It was even more disturbing to think Samuel could take him up to the labs and lock him away forever.
He had his chance to lock you away, and he didn’t take it. Stay calm.
Caleb took a deep breath and followed Samuel to the cafeteria. The scent of bacon hit his nostrils. He shouldn’t have been surprised breakfast was being served—the cafeteria always had food for the employees—but he honestly hadn’t been expecting it. Food meant there were probably other people in there—he wouldn’t be alone with Samuel. A glimmer of hope surged through him.
And what good is it going to do you? You can’t run in there screaming you’re immune and being held prisoner by a crazy person. At least you know Samuel won’t take you to the labs, but what about another scientist?
Caleb’s throat tightened, and the small flicker of hope he felt at finding help was snuffed out. They stepped into the cafeteria, and there were indeed several scientists in the room, probably about fifteen in total. A few turned to look at them, then went back to their conversations or trays of food. Caleb’s mouth went dry. He desperately wanted to do something to change the situation, but he couldn’t be impulsive about it. The voice was right: he had to be logical. Staying out of the labs was his first priority. He grabbed a tray and proceeded through the line. He wasn’t hungry, but he knew he would need the energy later. After filling their trays, Caleb and Samuel headed for a table at the back near a window so Caleb would have a great view of the hedge fence and the world beyond he couldn’t escape into. He scoffed.
As they sat, two other individuals joined them. Caleb frowned when he recognized Detective Hale, and his heart sank when Dr. Bentley sat down. The man looked awful. Dark circles sat under his red-streaked eyes, his hair stuck up in several places and was matted down in others; his skin was pale, and Caleb noticed the tray shook slightly in his hands. He smiled when his gaze fell on Caleb.
He sighed as he sat down. “You’re safe.”
A pang of guilt flashed across Caleb’s chest. The last time Dr. Bentley had seen him, he ran away from the cops. They were supposed to be going to the police station, and Hale was supposedly going to protect him. Dr. Bentley tagged along because, as Caleb’s guardian, it was his duty to protect him. Caleb was pretty sure going to the station wasn’t the best option. When the RBZ reached out from the alley across the street, Caleb knew he had to get away to survive. He took off down the street, no doubt leaving Dr. Bentley confused and staring after him wide-eyed. He had no idea where Caleb had gone or what had happened to him. He’d probably lost sleep worrying about him. How could Caleb have thought the doctor was part of the plot? He genuinely seemed to care about him and had no evil intentions, but he didn’t want the doctor fretting over him. He glanced at Samuel out of the corner of his eye. He had taken Caleb’s advice of cutting all ties. Caleb’s heart sank further, and he turned to Dr. Bentley.
“Yeah, I’m safe.” He said the words, but he knew they were hollow. “How are you?”
Dr. Bentley shrugged. “I’ll be much better once you’re back at home where you’re supposed to be.” He glanced over at Hale, who refused to meet his gaze and shoved a fork full of eggs into his mouth.
“Dr. Bentley,” Caleb said softly, the words trying to stick in his throat. “That’s not going to happen.”
Dr. Bentley focused on Caleb. “Please, call me Eric.”
Caleb’s throat constricted further. His palms started to sweat. He wished he had a deeper relationship with the man. It was the first time he had learned his first name, and Caleb knew there was more he could learn about him. If they knew each other better, he could tell Dr.—Eric—he was in trouble subtly. The hollowness in his chest flared, causing an ache to flow into his arms. Caleb glanced at Samuel and Hale, then back at Eric.
“It’s still not safe for me. Or you. I have to go away for a while.”
He stared at the man intently, hoping to bore his thoughts into the man’s brain. A voice screamed in his mind to be wary of Samuel and Hale, but the doctor couldn’t hear it. Eric shrugged and turned to his food, poking at the hash browns with his fork.
“If that’s what you feel you need to do, there’s not much I can do to stop you.” He glanced at Hale again for a moment before placing a bite of food in his mouth.
Panic gripped Caleb. Something had happened. Hale had done or said something. Eric kept glancing at Hale like Caleb glanced at Samuel. There was a fear there, and he wasn’t questioning why Caleb wasn’t coming home. Caleb’s thoughts drifted back to when he returned to the apartment from Matt’s bunker. Eric had been so relieved to see him, and so angry Hale hadn’t called him to tell him where Caleb was or what had happened. Now, Eric seemed reserved, complacent, threatened. Hale had told him something, but Caleb didn’t know what.
This is your chance. Say something! Who cares if Hale and Samuel deny it, you have to warn him!
Calm down. Be smart. Do you really want to put him at risk? The less he knows, the safer he’ll be.
Caleb’s gaze drifted from Eric to Hale. The voice was right. Neither Eric nor Caleb were able to change the circumstances. Caleb took a bite of his eggs and attempted to push down the lump forming in his throat.
“If you ever make it back to the city,” Eric spoke between bites, “I would enjoy it if you visited me.”
Caleb nodded. “I will.”
Eric smiled wearily.
Do something!
What?
He wracked his brain for a way to let Eric know what was really going on. If Eric could talk to Jan, it would be a start. At the thought of her, his breath caught. Why wasn’t she here? Had they done something to her? He turned to Samuel to ask, but the words stuck. He had to know, but he didn’t really want to know. Samuel stared back at him.
“What?”
Caleb turned away. A hot prickly sensation covered his skin. His leg muscles twitched for him to run. From here, he could make it to the elevators and to the guard desk at the front door, but then his journey ended. He lowered his gaze to the table, his jaw tensed. His grip on his fork tightened. After this, he truly would fade from the world. It wasn’t safe for him to be around others.
Perhaps it wasn’t a bad thing for him to cut ties. Eric would think he was somewhere safe, and Jan might be dead. The only other person with knowledge of his immunity was Matt, and Caleb had willingly walked away from him. He could disappear.
Caleb’s head jerked up as the memory of leaving the bunker ran through his mind. Matt had given him a thumb drive. He didn’t know what was on it, but maybe it was enough. Maybe it would give Eric peace of mind or some answers as to what was going on. He just had to get it into his hands.
You’ll put him in danger. Do you want his death on your hands?
That won’t happen. No one else knows about the thumb drive. I just have to be subtle about this.
His mind drifted back to the day he hid the device. He had to let Eric know where it was without raising Hale and Samuel’s suspicion.
“Hey, Eric, by the way, I was really tired the other night and took the TV remote into my room. I think it fell behind my dresser.” He caught Eric’s eye and raised his eyebrows slightly, hoping he’d notice the hint.
Eric chuckled softly. “You’re always doing crazy things with the remote.”
Caleb sighed inwardly with relief—he was sure Eric picked up on his hint. They never talked about ridiculous things like the remote. All Eric had to do was remember what Caleb told him and find the drive. With a little luck, it would help him understand what was going on and why Caleb acted this way. Caleb glanced at Samuel and Hale to see if they were suspicious of anything, but their expressions were blank. In silence and with effort, Caleb finished his breakfast.
CHAPTER 5
From the dining hall, Caleb and Samuel rode another elevator requiring a key to the parking garage. It wasn’t the same one Caleb had been in earlier. This one had five rows of various vehicles from pick-up trucks to SUVs to passenger cars. Caleb stopped in his tracks as he stepped off the elevator. His eyes took in the sight, and his brain wondered why Zomtech needed so many vehicles. In the city, everything was within walking distance, and since so few people actually left the city, having a vehicle wasn’t as common as they had been before. It wasn’t like he saw scientists cruising around for whatever. Caleb searched his memory for any rumors involving Zomtech and vehicles, like going outside the city for study subjects, but nothing came to mind.
Saving Humanity Series (Book 2): Edge of Humanity Page 4
