by Jeff Olah
Onto her right elbow, Cora torqued her shoulders left to get a glimpse of her predicament. Through the mess of blood and dirt clinging to her jacket, she could see where the branch pushed out of the ground, traveled eighteen inches, and then buried itself into her left side. The actual wound wasn’t visible, however the rib-splitting agony confirmed that she had more to worry about than her lost partner.
Lying back down, Cora slid her right hand into the pocket-sized gash along the front of her jacket and pulled free several lengthy strips of the black nylon fabric. She tied them end to end and then retrieved two large handfuls of the inner lining from just above her waist.
As the initial shock began to wear off and the area along her left side flowed a steady river of blood, Cora closed her eyes. She focused on each individual breath and counted to ten. Checking the rock-face one last time, she spotted something that wasn’t there two minutes before.
It was his arm. From the forearm down, it was Griffin. It wasn’t moving and although normally that would be cause for alarm, she was relieved to see it motionless. It meant that those chasing them weren’t hovering over his body tearing him apart. If they were, there’d surely be some sign. At least she hoped.
With the black nylon tied into a three-foot strap, Cora snapped off a pencil-sized branch that hung just above her head and placed it between her teeth. Setting the jacket’s lining near the entry point along her left side, she slid the strap over her back, wiggled it behind her, and down to her waist.
“Now or never.”
Sliding her legs back, Cora placed her feet against the twin mounds of granite at her left and bit down hard into the six-inch limb. Digging her heels in as tears rolled down her cheek, she reached overhead and anchored herself to the largest branch she could find.
As she pushed away, the sound of her anguish echoed through the valley below and then came rushing back just as fast. Pulling free of the limb impaled along her left side, Cora rolled onto her stomach and dropped her head to the ground.
Spitting out the small stick, Cora slowly backed out of the bush, wiped her face, and sat looking up at the steep hillside. Her pulse soared as she pulled her jacket up and fastened the length of nylon around her waist. Struggling to take a breath, she reached in and forced the jacket’s lining into the space between her wound and the makeshift strap.
Light-headed and not quite ready for what came next, Cora winced as she leaned forward and used the short ledge to help her stand. Scanning the area to the right, she found a slightly less aggressive route back to the top. The slight angle meant not having to actually climb, giving her an opportunity to possibly repay her debt to Griffin.
Testing her strength, she stepped first with her right foot and waited for the flood of pain. To her surprise, only a slight twinge shot along her left side, and nothing more. Not wanting to under-compensate for the opposite side, she raised her left foot and matched the arc traveled in her first step. Twice the volume of pain as the first, but nothing to write home about.
Three more slow steps and then out into the soft underbrush at the right side of the cliff, Cora took another head-clearing breath before starting up the incline. So far, so good. The pain was tolerable and in lifting her jacket once again, she could see that the flow of red velvet along her left hip had slowed considerably.
She’d reach Griffin in a matter of minutes, and although she hadn’t seen any movement from above, this was something she needed to do. One foot in front of the other, Cora moved in a zig-zag pattern through the awkwardly spaced trees, her left hand keeping pressure over the injury.
Not wanting to alert those in pursuit of her presence, but with the need to defuse her growing fears, Cora put a voice to her concerns. “Griffin.”
She spoke quickly, while attempting to keep her voice from carrying. “Are you okay?”
Although she hadn’t expected a response, she slowed and waited between two large spruces and listened to the passing storm move through the treetops. Nothing but her heart beating against the inside of her chest as Cora shook her head and started again.
Three feet from the crest and around the last tree, she spotted his boots. Another few feet beyond that, one of the women from the bus, clawing at the ground and inching toward him. Without another foothold in sight, Cora used both hands for leverage, and swung herself up and onto the open ledge.
The tenderness at her left side resurging, she clutched her hip and moved without caution to Griffin’s side. Flat on his stomach, his arms and legs jutted out in four different directions, but looked to be injury free. She laid her hand on his back and exhaled as she felt the rise and fall with each new breath.
Pulling the hair away from his eyes, the bruise running from just above his right brow and ending at his hairline was beginning to swell. His lids fluttered as she leaned in and spoke quietly into his ear. “Griffin, wake up. I need to get you off this mountain, but I can’t do it by myself.”
Turning back to the woman now only inches from his legs, she was able to see where the others that followed had met their end. Putting the pieces together, it looked as if the ice-slicked rock formations were as much of an ally to Griffin as they were to his downfall.
Three of the six that gave chase were obviously eliminated by Griffin, as evidenced by the bloodied, grapefruit sized rock sitting at their feet. It appeared he must have used the slippery surface to take them to the ground one at a time, and then rapidly extinguish what remained inside.
With the last two nowhere to be found, Cora had a more pressing matter that needed her attention. The woman at their feet now had a hand hold on Griffin’s pant leg and began to pull him toward her. Cora grimaced as she rolled Griffin onto his back and away from the disturbed woman.
Her left hand on her hip, she used the other to drag the flailing woman across the frozen granite, to where the earth dropped off. As the woman clawed furiously at the air, striking Cora’s right pant leg repeatedly, she carefully slid her over the ledge. She paused a moment to watch the woman slide slowly into the same outcropping that had assaulted her minutes before.
Ten feet away, Griffin began to cough. As she hurried over, he arched forward and began to dry heave. Kneeling at his side, Cora held his hand and waited for the episode to pass. He didn’t look good, but at the same time his eyes were now open, he was breathing, and for the moment was somewhat coherent. “Griffin, can you hear me?”
He nodded as he brought his hand up over the goose egg protruding from his forehead. “Yeah, I’m okay, what happened?”
“Too much to go into now. How do you feel?”
“Nauseous,” he said. “And my head feels like it went through the garbage disposal.”
“Can you walk?”
“I think so, but it doesn’t really matter. We both have to get up right now.”
“What?”
“There’s more coming.”
23
Belted into the passenger seat, Ethan held David’s phone and read the rapid-fire texts that came through. “Carly’s going to meet us near the nurse’s station as soon as she can. But she said that you may have to help me pop this sucker back in, she’s a bit buried at the moment.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
They’d be pulling into the parking lot in less than sixty seconds, but were warned to come through the employee entrance along the back of the hospital. The events happening at the main entrance left the already overworked hospital staff without any additional resources.
Entering the staff parking lot, David slowed to a stop and nodded out the left side of the truck. “Uh… Ethan.”
Looking up from the phone as another text came through, Ethan understood why they’d stopped. “Keep going, we can’t help them now.”
Engine Two sat just shy of the next intersection, and less than one hundred feet from the main entrance to the hospital. Their rig had been, and was still being, attacked by more than two dozen out-of-towners. Men and women still wearing their che
f’s hats and chili-fest themed t-shirts forced their way into the cab.
The group of deranged individuals had pulled the firefighters out into the middle of the street and were huddled in tight packs over the two obscured bodies. Fighting one another for position, the frantic visitors clawed their way to the downed civil servants, shredded their dark blue uniforms, and began attacking the areas of exposed flesh.
“Feeders,” David said. “It sure fits those things.”
“What?”
“That’s what they’re calling them—Feeders.”
“So that’s what stayed with you from those videos, the pointless name that they came up with? Yeah, I get it, they feed on people, so they’re Feeders. I’ll call them whatever you want. But, what about the fact that those things seem to be multiplying faster than rabbits in spring? You need to move this truck before they decide to come feed on us.”
“Ethan, we have to do something. We can’t just leave them here to—”
“You gonna do it alone?” Ethan said. “Because I won’t be any good to you out there.”
“They were our friends, our neighbors. How are you okay with—”
Again interrupting, Ethan said, “There’s what, thirty of them out there, maybe more? You really think we’d even have a chance? Listen, I’m getting my ass into that hospital, putting my shoulder back where it belongs, and getting the hell out of this city. You need to get Carly and do the same.”
“I don’t like it, but I guess you’re right. I’m just not cool with leaving them out there.”
“Those men—our friends—they’re gone and there isn’t anything we can do about it. Those other people, the ones attacking our friends were probably regular people too, but unless we want to end up like one of them, we need to think about us.”
Shaking his head, David looked away and pulled to the rear of the lot. Away from the other vehicles he stopped, cut the engine, and checked his mirrors. “You ready?”
Ethan looked up from the display and handed David his phone. “Change of plans. Carly is locked in the administrator’s office. She says it’s too late, they’ve been overrun. She’s hiding with someone named Ben. I texted her that we’re on the way and to stay put.”
“Okay,” David said. “But, I’m still gonna to need your help, so…”
Unbuckling his seatbelt, Ethan reached for the door handle. “So what?”
“We’ve got to do your arm right now, before we get inside. You good with that?”
“Sure, but after this, you’re going to help me. No questions asked. Are you good with that?”
Again checking the mirrors, David nodded and opened the door. “Let’s do this.” Looking back as he closed the door, he watched as Ethan also stepped out and headed toward the rear of the truck.
They met at the rear door as David checked his weapon, scanned the lot, and waited for Ethan to get in position. “Let’s go bud.”
Surveying his side of the lot, Ethan quickly holstered his weapon. He turned to David, rotated forward, and dropped his right shoulder. “We’ve got company. I’ll get my shoulder back in, just get over here and cover me.”
David stared at Ethan for a moment, offered a slight grin, and moved out around the passenger side of the vehicle. Turning back, he quietly said, “Maybe thirty seconds. We’ve got a pretty big group headed this way.”
“I only need five.” Arching his back and rounding his shoulder, Ethan clenched his jaw and breathed out forcefully through his nose. Beginning to externally rotate his right elbow, he closed his eyes and waited for the familiar jolt and the sound that could be heard three streets over.
“Ten seconds Ethan, it’s now or never.”
The pain nearly bringing him to his knees, Ethan yelped as his upper arm grinded through the last second of bone on bone before falling back into place. Spitting a small amount of blood out onto the pavement, he grabbed David, and pointed to the employee entrance. “Come on.”
As sensation intermittently flowed in and out of his right arm, Ethan started toward the building with David close behind. They weaved their way through the abandoned vehicles littering the employee lot and upon reaching the rear entrance, pulled open the doors.
Securing the entrance, David retrieved a few sheets from the supply cart and tied off the double doors. Peering back out into the lot, many of those that followed had gotten disoriented as they made their way through the vehicles and had begun walking in circles, no closer to the building than they were sixty seconds before.
“Where’d Carly say they were?”
“One of the offices, I think up front. Let’s find her and get the hell out of dodge.”
Through the second set of double doors, and into the main hallway, David pulled out his phone. “Okay, I know where she is. Let’s cut through the cafeteria and avoid the patient rooms altogether.”
Tapping his friend on the shoulder and pointing toward the end of the lengthy corridor, Ethan placed his hand over his weapon. “What do you make of this?”
Two rows of aluminum-framed cots lined the darkened hall, one on each side. As close as he could estimate, there were thirty-six in total, each supporting a lifeless corpse and draped over in white hospital linen. And near the end of the unnerving gauntlet, David detected movement. “Carly, didn’t mention any of this, but I have a feeling we’re about to become educated, like right now.”
24
The storm continued to grow. Pushing across the mountain in large flurries, it had nearly erased the foot shaped imprints left behind from their previous battle. Across the open glade, frosted treetops groaned under the burden of the snow resting innocently along its upper branches, releasing its overages back to earth with each new gust.
Their two yet unaccounted for pursuers had once again picked up the trail; however, they were now accompanied by three new friends. Punching out into the open, they now had a visual. Neither the terrain nor the inclement weather appeared to slow this new group.
Rubbing his head, Griffin leaned into Cora and stood. “Where’s your gun?”
Without running her hand along her back to confirm her suspicions, she knew it wasn’t there. Replaying in her head what she could of the previous thirty minutes, she figured it was either resting underneath the shrub she’d extricated herself from or buried beneath the new snow somewhere between here and there. “I don’t know.”
As the group of five again moved closer, Griffin turned back to the ledge. “We need to move, let’s go.”
“No,” Cora said, grabbing a fistful of Griffin’s jacket. “We won’t make it down that way.”
His head still in a fog, Griffin followed Cora as she cut a path through a dense row of mountain sagebrush. They stepped carefully away from the slick granite, finding their footing among the soft underbrush. Neither turned to check their progress, although as they advanced down the frozen hillside, using one another to stay upright, the distant footfalls grew closer.
Clutching the nine millimeter as if their being overrun was inevitable, Griffin motioned out of the next line of trees and to the left. With Cora’s pace beginning to falter, they needed another plan. Outrunning those at their back wouldn’t be an option for much longer. And for all they knew, this wasn’t the only group hunting them.
Slowing, but continuing to ignore those in pursuit, he waited for Cora to come to him. Sliding up under her right arm, he spoke to her as they again were on the move. “We can’t outrun them, and I’m not sure we’d do any better stopping to take them on with only one weapon.”
Less composed than her counterpart, Cora fought to get the words out between heavy breaths. “What then?” Swallowing air in big gulps, she tried again. “What do we—?” The hole above her left hip now exacerbated by the contractions coursing through her abdominals, her voice broke with each word. “Then. What. Do. We. Do?”
Leaning into her, Griffin guided them through a dense patch of Rocky Mountain Juniper, hoping to make up ground through the speckled maze. His feet no
w completely numb, thoughts of frostbite and losing parts he was still fond of ran at the front of his mind. “We have to get out of this damn weather. Either that or hide, and I don’t think—”
Her shoulders fell and as she breathed out into his ear, she stopped. Cora held tight to Griffin’s shoulder as he urged her on. She said, “I can’t feel my hands or my feet and if there was anything left in my stomach, I’d throw it up.”
Griffin continued to drag her for another twenty feet before he also gave in. Out from under her arm, he turned and held her by the shoulders. “Can you stand?”
Tiny beads of sweat pooled at her hairline, then started down her forehead before evaporating into her thick black brows. Although now stationary, her breathing increased and as pale as the snow beyond, her face suddenly went flush. “I don’t—” Her body dropped out from under his hands before he could grab ahold.
