Dex

by Claflin, Stacy

  When he woke, his whole body felt more rested than it had in a long, long time. The sun shone in through the window, lighting everything. It looked like a whole new room. Especially with the splashes of what had to be old, long-dried blood covering the walls. Had he noticed those before, Dex probably wouldn’t have slept as well as he had.

  Hopefully, he could find a better room to sleep in that night after a long day of arrow-making and berry gathering.

  He stretched and rose before climbing out of the bed and trudging over to the window. The bright sunlight now showed off blackberry bushes full of ripe berries as far as the eye could see. It had to extend as far as the forest. It was enough to live on, at least until the fruit turned bad.

  Dex’s priority was getting back to his family and finding out the rest of their fates. He couldn’t lose focus. More than anything, he wanted to discover that the rest of them all lived—hopefully within the confines of the town wall. Otherwise, he stood little chance of ever finding them again.

  His stomach rumbled, reminding him to get outside and gather what he needed. Berries and arrow-making supplies were all that mattered. Maybe one more night at the mental hospital, and then it would be time to move on. It was only a matter of time before a group found the place and destroyed it, anyway. He didn’t want to be there when that happened.

  Dex flung his bow over his shoulder and kept his quiver in easy reach. He headed for the door, his belly still complaining.

  The little table he’d put in front of the door was off to the side.

  His stomach dropped to the floor. Had someone been in the room while he slept? Why hadn’t he heard anything? More importantly, why hadn’t the intruder harmed him?

  Or was he making too much of nothing? It had been dark the night before. Maybe he’d moved the table next to the door instead of in front of it. But that couldn’t be. He was certain he’d put it in front of the door. His safety had depended on it.

  He lifted the little table and set it down. Some of the tools rolled a little, but made no noise to speak of. It was possible someone had moved it without waking him. But why leave him?

  Dex was about to check the hallway when something on his bed caught his attention. A partially brown daisy lay on the edge of the pillow just above where his head had been.

  His blood pulsed through his body like a raging river as he stumbled over to the bed and picked up the flower. Judging by the stem, it was freshly picked.

  Dex dropped it and ran to the door, grasping a knife. He pressed his ear to the door and listened, hearing nothing. Then he opened the door. Sunlight made the hallway appear like a different place. Dex could see the length of it, for starters.

  He needed to figure out who had been in the room and to check out the rest of the building, but he needed to take care of his hunger first since the person didn’t seem to mean harm. Why else would they have left a flower? A half-dead flower. He took a deep breath. Once his hunger was taken care of, he would have the energy to find the answers to his questions.

  Dex hurried outside, going out the same door he’d come in, neither hearing nor seeing anyone. The sweet morning air made the aroma of berries all the stronger. He went around the building, his mouth watering and his hands ready to use the bow.

  Just as the day before, everything was quiet. If anyone was in the vicinity, they were staying hidden. Maybe they were more worried about Dex than he was about them.

  He reached the edge of the blackberry bushes. Large, juicy berries greeted him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen so many ready to be picked. Dex scrambled to the nearest patch and pulled off as many as he could in one swoop. He scratched his palms on thorns but didn’t care, not even when the juice soaked in.

  Dex just ate. He filled his mouth with berries as fast as he could, expecting the inevitable. But nobody came. No monsters, no people. The only sounds were of birds in the distance—one of nature’s most reassuring sounds. He ate until he had his fill and then kept going. Even though the grounds appeared pleasantly empty, there were no reassurances.

  A next meal was never guaranteed.

  He filled his pockets and then turned his attention to finding wood for arrow-making. That would be his focus for the day. Then he could continue on the journey to find his dad and younger siblings.

  Crash!

  Scratch!

  Dex spun around, bow and arrow already in position.

  Chapter 12

  Scratch, scratch.

  Heart thundering, Dex looked all around, aiming his weapon along his line of sight.

  The morning was deceptively peaceful. Peace was like that—full of deceit.

  He held his breath and walked around the building, listening and watching. The sunlight beat down on him. Everything grew quiet, but that didn’t calm his nerves. Something had caused the scratching, and in Dex’s experience, that almost always meant wanderers. If it wasn’t them, then it was usually something equally worrisome.

  Dex crept along until he reached the end of the building and came to another, nearly identical building. The second one was in worse shape than the first. Gashes decorated the wood and most of the windows were broken out. For as well as the other building was preserved, this new one had been destroyed.

  He rounded the other side. The wall was covered in faded brown smeared handprints and other spatters of old blood. It was almost as if the two buildings existed in different worlds. How could they be right next to each other, yet both show two completely different stories?

  Not that it mattered. He wasn’t there for a history lesson. No, he was only trying to find out what had caused the crash and the scratching. If he had anything to wager, he’d have put it all on wanderers, and if any were nearby, he needed to take them out. Immediately.

  It was too bad he hadn’t had a chance to make more arrows yet. He’d just have to make do with what he had.

  He went around to the next side of the building. There were lower windows down a little ways. They were shattered just like the others, but he could look inside.

  With any luck, whatever was in there was trapped. Why else wouldn’t they be outside, chasing him?

  Dex reached the broken windows and peeked inside, keeping low.

  Crash!

  Something small bounced and skittered across the floor. Dex inched a little higher, trying to see what it was, but it didn’t help.

  Scratch, scratch.

  He jumped back. That sounded like it was just on the other side of the wall. Someone, or something, was inside. But could they get out? That was the only thing Dex wanted to find out.

  The scratching continued, but nobody he could see moved into the room. He moved along the building to the next window. Something large had been placed in front of the window on the inside and he couldn’t see a thing.

  Dex made his way to the next window. It was the first one in the building still intact. He couldn’t see through it because it was caked with dirt, grime, and splashes of old blood.

  It bothered him that two buildings so close together were vastly different. How could the first one be left alone while this one, right next to it, looked like it had been through several rounds of conflict with wanderers? It made no sense. If one was blood-spattered and filled with broken windows, the other should be as well. The monsters moved around without a thought, reacting to the noises and smells of anything living. They wouldn’t leave one place alone and focus on only another one—there was no reason or sense to anything they did.

  He moved to the next window. Another one intact. Not even a dent or crack.

  Dex froze in place.

  Inside a large room with closed doors, close to fifty wanderers milled about. They largely ignored each other. Typical. A short, skinny one with shreds of long brown hair walked into a tall one with half a beard hanging down to its chest. The tall one let out what could only be described as a howl and attacked the short one, clawing and biting it.

  Dex’s eyes widened and he took a step b
ack. Never before had he seen a monster attack another one, not even when one had impaled another. Dex had always assumed there was something about the wanderers that kept them from hurting, or even noticing, the others. Probably the fact that they were only interested in one thing—raw meat.

  Inside the building, other monsters joined in on the attack. Five more piled on the short one who’d happened to walk into the tall one. Dex pitied the thing, even though it probably had no idea what was going on. He’d never run into one who reacted to pain.

  More of the wanderers noticed the scuffle and piled into the fight. Chunks of skin, pieces of clothing, and internal organs flew through the air as the mindless monsters attacked one another.

  Dex stepped closer and pressed his forehead against the cool glass. The raging creatures continued their attack for just a minute until everything stopped all at once. They scattered in all directions until they meandered aimlessly around the room again. The short one lay on the ground, unmoving and completely disemboweled.

  “What the…?” Dex stared, barely able to make sense of what he’d just seen.

  How had the monsters been able to act upon thought? To attack another of their own kind?

  He stayed there watching, baffled. The wanderers continued to mill around the room, ignoring each other again—acting like normal.

  As much as he wanted to stay and try to figure out the mystery, he needed to gather items for arrow-making. Now more than ever. If those creatures got out, they might be dangerously unpredictable. In fact, they likely would be.

  Dex needed to get away from the Silverly Mental Hospital as soon as he could. It would be only a matter of time before the creatures discovered a way to get out of that room. Plus with fifty of them and a wrought-iron gate surrounding them, Dex’s chance of survival wasn’t good. Not when those things didn’t act like they should have.

  He took a step back from the window. A door inside opened into the monster’s room.

  Dex ducked and pressed himself against the building, peeking inside with just his left eye. A man—a human!—in a long white coat stepped into the room of mindless killers. He held a clipboard in one hand and a pistol in the other.

  The wanderers paid him no attention.

  Dex swore under his breath. Not only were there unusual monsters on the premises, but people, too?

  So much for his lonely refuge. Unfortunately, he’d been right about peace being a farce.

  The man set his pistol down, pulled a rectangular device from a pocket, and brought it up to his mouth and spoke. A few seconds later, he put it back and continued watching the wanderers. The door opened behind him and three more men in coats came inside and closed the door behind them. They raced over to the monster on the floor, picked it up, and carried it out of the room. The first man closed the door behind them and wrote on his clipboard.

  Dex needed to run, but he couldn’t get his feet to comply. He had to find out what the man inside was going to do next.

  If he would ever stop writing.

  The man wrote and wrote, pausing only occasionally to glance over at the currently docile creatures who didn’t seem to notice the warm organs so close to them.

  Next to the window, one of the wanderers locked his gaze on Dex. It screeched and flailed its arms.

  Dex’s stomach twisted and threatened to release the berries he’d just eaten.

  The monster stopped his chicken-dance and hollered again, continuing to stare at him. Clipboard-man turned toward the window and picked up his pistol.

  The wanderer pointed a skinny, bony finger at Dex. Clipboard-man walked in his direction.

  Dex burst into a run.

  Chapter 13

  Dex crouched low behind an overturned desk. Shouts sounded outside, but nobody entered the building. The yelling faded in the direction of the other buildings.

  He gripped the side of the desk and rose just enough to glance around. The third building appeared to be a replica of the first, although in worse disarray. Cracks lined the walls along with smears of blood. Hardly any furniture remained intact. From this view, the desk he leaned on was the only thing that had avoided destruction.

  Silence made his ears ring. With any luck, this building was as empty as the first. No scratching. No wanderers fighting each other. Not even any people whispering. Just the blissful sound of nothing.

  For now.

  Dex waited a few minutes, though it felt more like days, then rose to a standing position and peeked out the nearest window, careful not to get any of the thick, caked-on grime on himself. Other than faint footsteps in the dirt, there was no indication of anyone living or dead outside.

  But now they were looking for him.

  He had to make sure they didn’t find him. That meant staying in the building, at least for the time being. He might have to wait until nightfall to head back outside. At least he had just eaten. He wouldn’t notice hunger pains until then.

  Dex meandered the length of the room, checking each window and then down the hallway. This one had fewer doors than the building he’d spent the night in. It had more debris scattered about and several chunks missing from the walls. At the end of the hall, he came to a large room with round chairs strewn all over, most on their sides or upside down. But it wasn’t a dead end. To his right, a staircase going both up and down. To his left, another hallway, dim from the lack of windows, the only light coming from open doors on either side.

  He poked his head in the room. Nobody was inside, but someone had pushed piles of dirt against the walls. He stepped back and sized up the hallway and the stairwell. If he went up or down, he’d be too far from escape should he run into anything dangerous. Dex went down the hall, where he was at least level with the ground outside.

  The first room was empty other than a pile of wood shoved to the side. Maybe he could come back later and use some of that for making arrows if the building was as quiet and safe as it appeared. The next several rooms were former offices with desks and a bunch of old equipment. He came to another large one, but this one sent chills down his back. It was filled with rows of beds with barely any space to walk between them. There had to be close to fifty beds in there, and nothing else. Dex backed up into the hall.

  Broken items littered the hallway, and would easily trip Dex if he didn’t pay close enough attention. He came to a room that reminded him of the one he’d slept in, except this one had straps hanging from the walls and ceiling. The rest of the rooms down the hall all had beds along with an array of other mysterious objects scattered or hanging. Though he wasn’t sure what most of it was used for, most of it gave him the chills. It couldn’t have been good, whatever it was.

  At the end of the hall, he came to a room on his left that was bigger than the offices but smaller than the one with all the chairs. On his right, another staircase. He really wanted to avoid the stairs, but he glanced over at them anyway. Piles of dirt and dust littered the steps along with the occasional broken object.

  Creak.

  Dex froze.

  Creeeak.

  He reached for his bow and an arrow, then aimed them at the stairs. His heart thundered in his chest.

  Creak-creak.

  Pulse racing, he stepped back, looking but not seeing anyone coming up or down.

  Creak. Tap, tap.

  Dex held his breath and squeezed his weapon, ready to use it. Hopefully, he had enough ammunition.

  Tap. Scratch-scratch. Creak.

  The noise wasn’t growing any louder or quieter. Whoever, or whatever, was making it wasn’t coming closer or moving away. The scratching made him think it might be more wanderers.

  Did that mean more people were nearby? Or were the mindless creatures on their own?

  Dex crept closer to the stairs.

  Tap, tap. Scratch.

  His ears told him the sounds were downstairs. If it was just another room full of distracted monsters, then he was probably fine and could go back to the pile of wood to start crafting his arrows. Bu
t if people were nearby, then he needed to get away from the hospital as fast as possible. He had no idea what they were up to or what they might try to do to him.

  Creak. Creeeak.

  Dex looked up and down the stairs quickly before stepping down the first step. The noises continued, and he prepared to fight or run at a moment’s notice. He crept down the next stair, and then another, and continued until he came to a dark hallway.

  Why hadn’t he thought of that? There would be no sunlight below ground.

  Snap!

  He spun around and ran up the stairs as fast as he could. Something rolled underneath his foot and he nearly lost his balance, but he kept going until he reached the main level.

  Gasping for air, he glanced down. Nothing. He was still alone.

  Dex scrambled up the stairs. At least there would probably be windows up there. Not only would he be able to see, but he could jump one story and not hurt himself. He knew that much from experience.

  On the second floor, he found more offices and bedrooms. The doors were in even worse shape than the ones he’d seen previously. Many had large spots of what could only be mold and mildew, and the stench as he walked by confirmed as much.

  The noises from downstairs had all but disappeared. He breathed easier but didn’t release his hold on the bow. Letting his guard down was the worst thing he could do.

  Dex took large, silent strides down the hallway, avoiding upside down bed frames and overturned chairs while peeking into each room he passed. All were empty.

  Then he came to another large room previously used for gatherings.

  And currently, too.

  He darted behind the partially open door and stared at the sight before him. The room was lined with chairs and bookshelves, though nobody inside used either. All the people—there had to be at least a couple dozen—wore white, and either stood in place or wandered at a snail’s pace. The men wore matching white pants and button-up tops, while the women had on white gowns that went to their knees, or ankles, or somewhere in between. Each person was clean and well-groomed.