I let out a hysterical scream when seven Feeders stepped out of from behind the trees in front of us and moaned. Kane and I skidded to an abrupt halt and spun desperately around, checking the threat from every direction.
The gun trembled in my hand for a second before I pulled myself together and let the pounding adrenaline take over.
Thinking quicker than me, Kane ducked down and came back up with a long, sturdy stick. I started shooting before I could form any kind of plan and Kane didn’t hold back. He launched himself at the Feeders in front of us without reserve or fear.
I gasped at his brutality, the way he went after their heads with a savage grace that I was both thankful for and unnerved by. He shouted out a wild, irate growl and bashed in the first head he came to. I screamed from as much shock as it was from horror.
Tearing my gaze from Kane’s massacre I unloaded my clip as quickly and accurately as I could. But these were smart Feeders. Their eyes were blood red and dripping a kind of black gunk that I had never seen before. Their skin glistened a papery, translucent white and where it wasn’t peeled away exposing flesh and bone, it was sticky with blood or grime. Their mouths foamed with sticky goop and pus and their rotten teeth dripped the same mucous-like fluid.
And then there was that stomach-curdling stench that accompanied them wherever they went.
Kane moved to his second victim, just as another one came up behind him. I took a side angle and shot at the Feeder gnashing his teeth at Kane’s shoulder. I caught the Feeder in the thigh and he stumbled back. Not hesitating another second, I aimed for his forehead and got him right in between the eyes.
Then I let Kane fend for himself, because I had bigger issues.
Spinning around I started shooting before I could see what I was aiming for- rooky mistake but the Zombies behind us were moments away from catching us and we were still several yards from the cliffs that promised safety.
I missed the Zombie closest to me and didn’t find my mark until he was only six inches from my fast. Before his lifeless body even dropped to the forest floor I was shooting at a wily female that ducked my first two shots.
How did she know to do that?
It took me two more pulls of the trigger before I caught her sloppily in the jaw- not exactly the prettiest way to die as her entire jaw ripped off, but the bullet found purchase in her brain and she finally went from being undead to just plain dead.
Another startled scream ripped out of me when I just barely managed to escape getting bit. I threw my body back on the ground. The wind was knocked out of me when my back hit hard, unforgiving rocks and branches that dug into my skin through my thin t-shirt. I fired once, twice and then the trigger just clicked.
My clip was empty.
There probably would have been some hysteria if Kane hadn’t jumped in right at that moment and hit the attacking Zombie like a professional baseball player during the World Series. His stick hit the guys’ jaw with a resounding crack of bone and rip of flesh and his head- I’m not kidding you- spun half way around so that it faced backwards.
Before my brain could process that trauma, Kane was hauling me to my feet and pushing me to a run again. I took off with him, still gripping my empty gun.
At this point it was less like a weapon and more like a security blanket.
We hadn’t taken out all of the Feeders in the clearing, and they mingled with the original crowd now, just steps behind us.
I ran faster than I ever had, focused on the ground while somehow looking out for the bunker too.
But what if we couldn’t get in? What if Gage kept it locked?
A sob built in my chest- one made from pure, undiluted fear. But I pushed it down. I could not think about that now!
Kane still clutched his bloody stick. My brain took in unimportant facts as it struggled to think of anything but the looming death we were running from. His stick had become a formidable weapon, splintered at the end from all his brutal kills, dripping with black blood and thick enough he had to grip it with two hands.
Belatedly remembering my hunting knife, I reached into my other cargo pocket and pulled it out. I threw my gun to the ground and unsheathed the knife, losing the protective covering in the process.
We were to the rocky cliff walls now. They stretched out in front of us like a smooth wall, obstructing the flow of the forest.
“Where is it?” Kane demanded in a gruff, ragged voice.
“I don’t know. It blends in!” I called back.
A hand swiped across my back, tearing at the fabric with sharp, jagged nails. A whimper fell from my lips and a tear slid down my cheek. Another hand clutched at the hem of my shirt.
Kane was in the same boat, hands reaching for him, grasping for his body. We would only turn around in the direst circumstance. Those precious moments to kill the threat at our backs would get us easily surrounded by the rest of horde.
We had to keep running.
We had to keep living.
Another hand reached for me and this time closed around a handful of fabric at my side. I let out a scream of determination as I tried to rip myself from the hold when Kane’s stick came down like lightning across the forearm of the Feeder.
The Zombie’s brittle bones snapped against the force of Kane’s muscle and the hand separated from the rest of his arm. Blood spurted everywhere, coating my back and jeans. The Feeder stumbled from the loss of balance and for one horrifying moment his detached hand held onto my clothing before losing its grip and dropping to the ground.
Before I could freak the f out I saw it, ten feet in front of us- a metal handle, almost completely concealed by the matching color of rock surrounding it.
Thank, God!
I didn’t know how I saw it, or how I recognized it from the sheet of rock surrounding it, but there
it was.
Now, as long as it wasn’t locked….
Too out of breath and frozen from fear to warn Kane verbally, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him in the direction of the handle. Reaching out with panicked desperation my fingertips grazed the handle and flicked off.
It needed a stronger, harder pull than that.
Kane turned around to offer some protection while I pushed down on the handle with all my might. It clicked without resistance just as Kane swung his nature-made bat clanking several Zombie heads together.
With Kane protecting me, I pulled on the extremely heavy door- it barely budged. Heavy, rusted and with the forest floor obstructing any progress to get us to safety- to our survival- the door was almost impossible to open.
I was still holding my knife, which only made my grip weak and awkward.
But there was no way in hell I was letting go of my only weapon.
Kane’s grunts and determined roars echoed behind me as he miraculously held off any Feeders from getting a bite in. That didn’t mean their filthy hands weren’t scratching at me, catching my clothes with their inhuman nails and cutting my skin, tearing my shirt to shreds.
Sweat dripped into my eyes, stinging and blurring my vision. My pulse rushed deafeningly in my ears and my heartbeat pounded so hard against my chest that it actually hurt.
I yanked, pulled, put everything into opening the door. Finally I opened it enough to squeeze through- and that was exactly what I did, shouting unintelligible directions for Kane to follow.
With one more chilling bellow into the crowd of Feeders, he let lose a wide arc of destruction by stick and hopped back to squash through the entrance.
He was bigger than me though, and I hadn’t managed to pry the door open enough for him. He struggled to push into the bunker- his body stuck halfway in and halfway out. A Feeder staggered forward, intent on making him a meal and now he had no way to protect himself with his body wedged tightly between a rock and a hard place- literally.
I shouted for him to “Duck!” even though I knew it would be impossible and leaped forward, using his bent thigh as leverage. I pushed up in to a jump, and came down on the
Feeders head with my hunting knife, skewering him right in the top of his cranium. He staggered back before collapsing to the floor and with the momentum of my flying body; the door pushed open another inch, allowing Kane just enough space to fall back into the bunker.
We collapsed to the floor in a heap of relief. For only a second though, because then we were both on our feet again and scrambling to get the door closed. Decaying, rotting flesh-torn arms swiped through the space, making it impossible for us to get the door closed all the way.
They got in each other’s way however, and half of them were pushed out but their desperate buddies, trying to take their place.
“Hold tight!” Kane ordered as he went to his back again and kicked out with his feet. I had instantly obeyed and with the rapid succession of his powerful feet thrusting into the chests or legs of all those he could reach, the thin space was finally cleared and I slammed the door back into place with just a second spared to save Kane’s still-moving feet. From either Zombie bite or crushing by door, I didn’t know which would have been his end, but he got out of the way just in the nick of time.
We were immediately enshrouded in darkness and although I expected quiet, the haunting moaning and groaning from the army of Feeders beyond our protective door permeated our safety and any relaxing thoughts I had momentarily felt.
They were still out there.
They were still pursuing us.
I just had to pray this bunker was strong and fortified enough to keep us safe.
It had to be.
Kane and I started groping around in the dark, bumping into unseen furniture and each other as we blindly sought out a lantern, candle, flashlight, anything to bring some light into our bleak predicament.
I felt- more than heard- Kane stop, pick something up and click a switch until the right setting turned on a battery-powered lantern.
I finally allowed an unsteady breath to fill my lungs and bring a small semblance of calm to return to my body.
The lantern let out a soft glow of light that revealed a bunker larger than I imagined. Although it was one room, there was a place for a double bed, a small kitchenette with sink, electric hot plate and small camping grill, a couch shoved against one wall and a small, two-person table next to the door. There were no windows, or other exits. Although, there was one more door in the corner of the room, but when I went to check it out I realized it was a rather convenient bathroom that had a port-a-potty type flushing system; although from what I could see in the near darkness it emptied somewhere that was not the bunker.
Woot, woot for that.
I moved back into the main room and stared at Kane who hadn’t moved. I could see his body trembling in the dim light, his intense eyes trained on me and every one of my movements.
We didn’t speak.
We couldn’t.
He set the lantern down on the table carefully. And then stalked toward full of predatory intention and consuming need.
I stood motionless, waiting for him to reach me, instinctively knowing he was dangerous like this. We were high strung from that intense rush of adrenaline, our worst fears had been brought to life, there was blood on our hands and more than figuratively… we killed, we took lives. Even if they were creatures of destruction, less human and more weapon of evil, the feel of taking a life still weighed heavily on my soul, still dragged me down to an abysmal place of self-loathing. And Kane was right there with me.
I could see those emotions reflected in Kane’s eyes.
He wavered on a precipice- giving over to the bloodlust completely or holding onto those precious remnants of humanity that separated him from the Feeders.
This was a crucial moment in his eternal being.
And I wasn’t going to allow corruption to forever destroy him.
I didn’t have a place in his life or in his salvation. But I refused to aid the pull of self-destruction whispering in his ear.
Call this my good deed for the day.
He stopped just inches from me, his eyes searching my face for permission, his body tight with coiled tension and rigid despair.
I nodded, but just barely.
He closed his eyes in gratitude and a whimper escaped his full lips. I melted a little at the sound- at the evidence of what a broken man he was, of how desperately he needed love and affection.
His arms were wrapped around me before my next breath and I was cradled against his chest in a way that was both powerfully tight and achingly tender at the same time.
And he just held me there.
Our hearts beat in sync, pounding frantic rhythms in our chests pressed flush against each other’s. Kane’s arms wrapped all the way around my torso, crossing in the back, one hand reaching up to cup the nape of my neck, the other wound all the way around my waist, with fingers digging possessively into my side.
His face burrowed into the curve of my neck and his strong, capable thighs pressed against my waist. He was…. not detestable in that moment. He was vulnerable and deprived of human touch and gentle affection.
Slowly I lifted my arms and let them slide around his neck. He smelled like dirt and sweat, but it was so much better than the foul smell of Zombies. I found myself reciprocating the intensity of emotion, although I knew mine stemmed from a different place. With my cheek pressed against his collarbone, I let the depth of my gratitude and fear pulse through me and flow into him.
Silently I told him everything I needed to with the touch of my body and willingness to let him hold me. I thanked him for saving me. I thanked him for wanting to protect me. I thanked him for pushing me forward, for catching me when I tripped, for holding me now while my body deflated from the release of adrenaline and another life or death circumstance playing havoc on my mental well-being.
How many more of these could I take?
How many more times could I be moments from death and my body seconds from becoming something I loathed?
As much as I hated Kane and wanted him out of my life, this was not the place to dwell on those feelings. Because without Kane to hold me together now, in this moment, I would have fallen apart. If it were not for his strong arms and steady breath against my skin I would have wilted into the abyss of insanity that waited for me after every single time I stared death in the face and somehow escaped.
There were no tears as we held each other for endless moments, just breathing, just warmth from our living, alive bodies and the incessant sounds of Feeders beating against the door that protected us from them.
“I should see if that door locks,” I whispered after what seemed to be hours in Kane’s arms.
He pulled back and I felt my lungs expand when he gave them more room. “Yeah,” he agreed in a hoarse voice. “We should check that out.”
It was cool in the bunker, which was expected from the cave like dwelling and because there was no light either from outside or inside. But the chill that snaked down my spine had more to do with Kane removing his body from mine than the cold internal temperature.
And I hated that.
I promised myself- swore to myself- that I only felt that way because of what we just went through. That the only reason I missed Kane’s strong arms around me had more to do with the ringing fears that echoed through my still fragile mental state and were reinforced by the fierce pounding and guttural groaning from the other side of the door.
Unnerved by those thoughts, I hung back and let Kane work the panel of locks that reached from the top of the door to the floor.
Gage was not kidding. His uncle was a doomsday fanatic.
Maybe people thought he was crazy in the life before all this, but right now Gage’s uncle was my hero. I would be able to credit him with another day of survival for the rest of my life. And that was enough for me to hold him in the highest esteem forever.
When Kane was finished he turned around and leaned back against the door, as if his added weight would aid in protecting us. His hands were hidden behind his back and his body had stopped tr
embling, but still his eyes searched out mine desperately.
“Thank you, Reagan.” Kane’s voice was a rasp of consuming emotion. “You saved my life.”
“And you saved mine,” I shrugged away his sentiment with casual distance.
Kane opened his mouth to say more but closed it just as quickly. I hated that my heart kicked back into overdrive. After our near-death experience and then my willingness to be in his arms, I suddenly feared what being trapped in this bunker would mean with only Kane to keep me company.
We were completely alone, suffering in almost near darkness and near a bed.
A different kind of fear infused my blood, bringing it to life as if with electrical shocks and my head spun with all the unwanted possibilities. I stared at the bed in horror.
Sensing my hysteria, Kane took a step forward, reaching out to me. Seeming to think better of it, he pulled his hand back and shook his head. “Reagan, I’m not going to… I would never. We’re both here because it’s the only way for us to survive. There’s no other reason.”
Struggling to get my breathing under control I looked up at him with honest eyes. “I want to trust you, Kane.”
Frowning and with eyes hardening to hurt slits, he reiterated, “I would never force you, Reagan. I’m a lot of things but what you are expecting me to do is not one of them.”
“I’m not expecting you to….”
“Rape you?” He gritted out. “Then what’s with the panic attack?”
“This isn’t exactly ideal,” I blurted. “I’m not supposed to be here with you!”
“And I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to be here with you,” he shot back. “But we’re trapped! I doubt anybody even knows this place is here. And there’s no less than seventy Zombies just waiting for us to open that door. Neither of us has a choice right now. But who knows how long we’ll be stuck here, so you better get used to the idea. And stop looking at me like I’m a sexual predator!”
Love and Decay, Episode Ten Page 6
