His entire body revolted in him moving, or for that matter, existing. Forcing himself to roll over and shield his face from the water, he pushed with all the might he could muster. Muller made it halfway before giving up, the pain overwhelming him. He fell back, and water began pouring into his face again, each drop transporting him back to reality. He felt like he was drowning in the torrents of water landing on his face.
A few seconds later he was reminded where the water was coming from as a loud deep boom, shook the ground where he lay. It was raining; the storm had arrived while he was knocked out. A bright flash lit up the sky above him, bringing him fully back into the real world. His vision was clear now, and his body still aching, and head still pounding, he had fully come back to actuality. Muller had a flood of flashes as he remembered the roof giving out, and falling, seeing a beam coming towards him, and then blackness.
Muller had been knocked unconscious and had finally snapped back. He rolled over, entirely fighting the pain this time and was now on his side, away from the rain. He lay on the pile of rubble that was once a roof, gasping for breath. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the half caved-in room before him. He forced his muscles to sit up, and he leaned against the wall.
Muller blinked his eyes, trying in vain to get his painful migraine to go away. He knew that he would have to take some pain medicine for it to go away, so he reached for his pack, fishing out a small packet of pain pills. Muller opened his mouth and shoved them in; they had a chalky, gritty taste to them as he swallowed them dry. He closed his eyes for a few more minutes hoping it would help the pain go away.
After a few minutes, he could start to feel the aches and pains subside slowly, becoming a dull throb rather than a constant searing pain. Now that he could think clearly, Muller opened his eyes, allowing them to focus on his surroundings. A familiar silhouette grabbed his attention, and he looked carefully. Muller got up and walked towards it, still unable to make it out. He felt the rain again as he approached, and a lightning flash lit up where he was looking. It was the older scientist.
The poor old scientist had fallen too when the roof collapsed, but unlike Muller, he was not so lucky. The man was dead and had probably died within moments of landing. A piece of rebar had pierced his chest, sticking out. He held a single hand loosely grasp around the rebar, as if he had tried to remove it, dying before he could. Muller said a silent prayer for the man, as he did not deserve this fate.
Muller moved towards the edge of the building and found the other scientist had the same luck. At the bottom of the alley below was the body of a man, with several infected leaned over him. Muller could only hope that he was already dead before the infected had reached him. He looked around some more, finding no trace of the female scientist, but presumed she had fled somehow or was dead.
Muller hobbled back into the building to get out of the rain and to try to figure out what his next move would be. He decided to rest his body some more after the torment it had suffered and sat down. Muller listened to the rain and relaxed for the first time since he stepped foot into the helicopter. Several minutes passed by, and he couldn’t bring himself to move, his head felt odd and swollen. He touched his forehead, and it had a small bump, from where the beam had hit him.
He looked around at what remained of the room he had fallen into and didn’t find much. The building had suffered quite a bit of fire damage, and most of what occupied the place were burnt or at least partially destroyed. Muller told himself to wait a little bit longer before he got up and moved again. It wasn’t long before he felt himself drift off into a light sleep, his body unwilling to exert itself.
Muller woke up to the sound of thunder again, but this time, it sounded further off, and it had stopped raining. He had no idea how much time had passed, but guess it was now early in the morning. His migraine had subsided and felt somewhat better; body still sore but manageable. Muller decided it was time to move, and that he had spent too much time trying to feel better.
He reached over for his pack and grabbed it, slowly putting it on, wincing with each strap. Muller picked up his rifle and looked it over, making sure it hadn’t suffered any significant damage, which luckily it hadn’t. He charged the rifle and went deeper into the building to look for a way down. Muller carefully checked each step not wanting to relive falling through the floor. He found a concrete stairwell, still intact, after the fire had raged through the rest of the building.
Muller walked down the stairs finding the next couple of floors with less damage, but he took no chances. He made it down to the ground floor without any problems, making sure to check for infected at every turn. Once he neared the front of the building, he could see the street again, but held back from the main door, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Muller stared at the door, unwilling to move any further to it, understanding what lay on the other side.
He decided that he would try one last thing before he made his final decision on what to do. Muller knew it would be a long shot, and hardly expected anyone to reply to his call, but longed for the reassurance that someone else was out there. He grabbed his radio, checking to make sure it was the right channel and pressed the button. To his surprise someone answer, a voice he didn’t recognize, but someone who was military.
After a short conversation, with this new person, Muller felt better. Not ultimately better, but relieved there were still people alive, even after his team had died. He felt a quick sinking feeling, his stomach tensing up, remembering his fallen brothers. Muller didn’t want their sacrifice to be in vain and decided right then that he would do whatever it took to bring the hard drives back to the rest of the world.
Muller moved towards the main doors, looking through the glass for movement, but didn’t pick any up. He opened the door slowly and slipped through. He made his way onto the sidewalk and chose his path, moving to where the base was supposed to be. He crept into the night, quiet as a mouse.
Chapter 30
A Haven
After a couple of days of searching and hiding in various buildings, they found the perfect one. It had good defenses and several ways to get in and out of the building. They found all the doors locked, which was a good sign there wouldn’t be other people inhabiting it or worse, Yokai. Once they broke into one door, they searched the building and found the keys hanging on the wall in the building managers office.
They owned the building after that, securing all the entrances except for two. The main entrance led out to the security point along the outer perimeter. The other door they left open was one of the roll-up garage doors, which they used to move all their supplies they found in and out quickly. The building was big enough for all the people they had found along the way to the building and hold their stockpile of supplies.
For the first couple of days, they raided all the other buildings in the area for supplies. They each went out in small teams each day, moving building to building, taking anything that the group could use. While searching, they found a few people wandering or holed up in stores, trapped by Yokai. They rescued them and brought them into their group, and their haven began to swell in numbers to seventeen.
That number didn’t last long; they suffered several causalities to the infection while securing the surrounding area and searching for supplies. One man had been searching for supplies in a local shop, opened a door, unleashing a small group of infected that were on the other side. Another, a young woman who had gotten separated from her group, was hiding from a horde that was passing nearby. She thought it had passed when she left her hiding place, only to find they had stopped right next to it.
A teenage boy they had found wandering the streets, one night he walked out of the safety of their new place. He left their haven and found the next morning entrails strung across the street. They figured it was infected, but to be safe, they kept a pair of eyes on the entrance since then. Their group started to find a niche, but it didn't come without a cost.
On their way to the ware
house, the group had come across a small horde of infected on one of the nearby streets. Takeo had been leading them, and he had spotted the horde. They had decided they didn't like a horde that close to where they had planned on spending their nights. Tadao agreed they should place half the group at one end of the street and the other half on the other side to split up the amount of Yokai.
They had split up just like they wanted to and the Yokai fell into their plan. The group quickly put down a quarter of the infected before some more Yokai joined in from a side alley. It cut Takeo off from the rest, and he desperately fought to clear a path, but there were too many, swarming him. Tadeo went into a blood rage seeing his friend anguish in pain.
Tadeo used his brute strength to finish off any remaining infected, yanking off the ones from Takeo. He knelt over his dying friend and watched him take his last breath. The fiery rage in his eyes still blazing he raised his ax above him and swung it heavily down; making sure Takeo had his final rest.
Before any of them could comfort Tadeo, he stood up, blood dripping from his face. He made his way inside the warehouse looking for any infected inside to exact vengeance. He only found an empty warehouse and the rest of the group standing by the door with scared faces. Tadeo didn't speak to any of them for the whole night, and only at dawn did he say something.
“I'm going hunting,” he said to Kenji with a dead look in his eyes.
They never saw him again; they had still hoped to find him in one of the many shops and offices they had plundered. However, no trace was seen of him. They learned from their losses and their triumphs, but it seemed inevitable that sooner or later the infection would claim them all. No one wanted to be claimed by the epidemic, they all wanted a sense of safety. As their de facto leader, Kenji knew it would fall to him.
They looked to him to solve their problems, make sure they were safe. He wasn’t always able to do that, but he made sure that he tried his hardest. He almost naturally fell into the position, but it was very trying. Kenji took it to heart when someone was hurt or died. He quickly changed his tactics to try to avoid such outcomes; he came up with a plan.
Kenji had laid out the plan to where they should search for supplies and had created the system they had set. Each group had four people, two to be lookouts, and two to gather the supplies. They would move building to building, staying no longer than five minutes per building to avoid drawing the infected. It was simple and worked well. They rotated groups every couple of hours to keep each group rested and ready.
Kenji’s group consisted of himself, Kiyomi, Nobuto, and Ren. The two men were the lookouts, and the two women were the gatherers. They had gotten to know each other as a family, and they each looked after each other. Kenji remembered the one time that they hadn't.
The men had cleared the building, finding only an infected older man. After ending his torment upon the earth, they called in the women, who started to tear the place apart for supplies. They grabbed food and medicine first, then water. Everything after that was a luxury.
The men hung out in the doorway watching both ends of the street. After a couple of minutes, a small horde started making their way towards them, wandering down the street. It wouldn’t take much for the infected to find them, so the men stopped the women, closed the door and waited quietly for the horde to pass. Most of the infected shambled by, continuing down the street, but one, a twenty-something man, stopped right outside the door to the building they were in.
They all held their breath knowing that if the alerted the infected man outside the door, the rest would come back. Kenji opened the door to check if the horde had passed. An infected man slumped over a car parked on the street as if he was checking to see if anyone was inside. Kenji decided they couldn’t wait any longer and decided to sneak out and go back to their haven. He opened the door and slowly crept out, planning on sneaking up on the Yokai and end him.
Kenji approached the infected man, inching towards him, stopping at a body on the ground, which lay face down. Kenji didn’t remember the body on the ground when they approached the store they had been raiding. Then again, it was hard to keep track of all the bodies, since there were so many on the streets. He wanted so hard to kick the body to make sure it wasn’t alive still but couldn’t risk the noise.
Kenji raised his sword, planning on swinging at the Yokai against the car, once he was close enough. Before he could, he felt something grab his leg with a firm grip. Kenji let out a surprised yelp and looked down at what had seized him. A pale hand with black veins spider-webbed across it had grabbed hold of his pant leg. It was the body that he did not check, and now he knew that his hunch had been right. He kicked, trying to shake the grip free, but only succeeded in losing his balance.
Kenji fell to the ground, dropping his katana, and tried to push himself back away from the infected man. Kiyomi, who was closest to Kenji and the infected man, rushed over to help. She wielded a golf club, which she used to knock the Yokai off Kenji. She swung the club at the infected man on the ground she had just knocked off Kenji.
Her blow connected with the infected man’s head and gave a distinctive clink. The strike stunned the infected man for a moment, but he quickly recovered. As she focused on the Yokai that had grabbed Kenji the one leaning against the car had closed the distance to Kiyomi, grabbing her.
He quickly sunk his teeth into her flesh, easily tearing through her shoulder and deep into her muscle. The infected man tore with his teeth, pulling back and with it a chunk of her flesh. Kiyomi let out a cry of pain and fell to her knees. Nobuto was now at her side and shoved the infected man back with his pipe. He raised his pipe with all the force he could and brought it down, splitting the infected man’s skull.
Kenji quickly scrambled up to his feet and leaned over to help Kiyomi. Ren helped Kenji pull Kiyomi to her feet, and together they shouldered her, each carrying one of her arms. Nobuto had grabbed Kenji’s sword and led the way as they made their way back to their safe house. They ran most of the way shoving any infected out of the way, Nobuto finishing them off. They made their way to the gate of their new safe house and brought Kiyomi inside, knowing that she was infected.
✽ ✽ ✽
It was the hardest moment in his life, and Kenji felt it would be no matter what. They sat in the area they had claimed for themselves, staring into each other’s eyes, holding hands. Each one knew that this was the end and that shortly after she would be gone. The fever had set in and could only mean that the infection was winning. He felt his eyes start to tear up and felt them freely flow.
She smiled weakly, but it faltered. Her fever had set in, and she started to shiver from cold sweats.
Kenji looked Kiyomi in the eyes, “I love you, I love you so much.”
“I know. I love you too.” She replied.
She weakly tried to look up at him whispering, “Kenji, promise me. Promise me that you won’t blame yourself.”
“I…But, it’s my…” he started.
“No, it’s…not,” She said, cutting him off. “Promise…” she said again, her breathing becoming more labored.
Kenji squeezed her hands, “I promise, Kiyomi. I promise.”
As he said that he promised, Kiyomi stopped breathing, the infection finally becoming too much for her body to fight off. Kenji let her hands fall from his and hugged her deeply.
“KIYOMI! NO, no, no, no!” Kenji said weeping freely, “I need you Kiyomi!”
Kenji gently laid her on the ground, closing her eyes. Crying, he looked at her one last time before he took his weapon and made sure she would not come back.
Chapter 31
Taking charge
Knight sat on a wooden crate looking down at his feet. It had been about half an hour, and he was already starting to feel less upset, but more like an ass. He knew he had flown off the handle, shouting and verbally attacking anyone and everyone. The anger came like pulses, every time he thought of Carter. That was probably the one thing he was not sorry about but knew
he would have to apologize to save face.
It still didn’t feel like his friend had died, and it was almost too hard to process. He kept imagining Smith calling his name, and him turning around to see him, okay, unharmed. Knight knew that it wouldn’t happen, yet he couldn’t stop imagining it. His subconscious told him one thing while he thought the complete opposite, his mind tearing itself in two different directions. Knight felt his head throb with the pain of his brain overworking itself.
He bent over and rubbed his temples massaging his head, lessening the throb. Knight closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing his body to relax, and release any tension it held. However, something gave him goosebumps and made him jump up from the crate he was sitting.
“Knight!” a voice called.
It had sounded precisely like Smith, but it couldn’t have been. Knight looked around convinced he had heard Smith call his name. He looked down the small path between crates that were piled up in the room he had taken refuge. He started to make his way across the room, squeezing by each container. Knight paused again, hearing his name called again.
“Knight?!” the voice called again.
This time Knight was confident that it was Smith calling for him. He moved faster through the crates; the room itself was dark, but Knight could make out a light walking towards the room from outside. He pushed himself faster through the crates, wanting to reach the door and get to Smith. Smith had beaten him; a dark silhouette appeared in the doorway, holding a flashlight. The beam of light from the flashlight glared right into Knight’s eyes, blinding him.
Knight stopped, holding his hand up to his eyes to shield them from the light. He squinted to try and make out Smith. Knight blinked a couple of times, and still, the figure stood before him. He called to Smith, wondering why Smith hadn’t said anything else.
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