by James Bierce
He steps into a small waiting area with only a half-dozen chairs in it, and then hears some commotion from the other side of the room. Footsteps can also be heard, both fast and slow, from down a corridor to his right, and also from the third floor above him. He aims his light straight ahead, and sees an open door behind an enclosed desk area, with both small and large objects being tossed out into the waiting room. The closer he gets, the more angry they sound — and as their labored breathing becomes louder, he aims his pistol at the doorway and waits for them to come out from behind it. Just as their arm becomes visible as they exit the room, Larry feels someone pull hard on his shoulder, and before he realizes what's happening, he sees a grotesque looking set of teeth staring back at him as he falls backward onto the carpeting. The dark figure above him grabs at his gun, and then he hears two loud gunshots, followed by a third that splatters blood down onto his face.
"Are you okay?" Curtis asks, holding out his hand to help pull him up.
"Yeah, I'm fine — just a little shaken, that's all."
Bending down to pick his flashlight back up, he aims it down at the man, recognizing severe burns all over his naked body. "This guy isn't from inside here — he's from the streets."
"Well, he's dead now, so it doesn't really matter," Curtis says, standing on the stair landing once again.
"I can still hear someone on this level…"
"It's not Christine, it sounds like another man — so we need to keep moving."
"I have to be sure, Curtis."
"Larry, listen closely…" The footsteps coming from somewhere down the hallway are slow, dragging both of their feet as they hobble across the floor — and even from this distance, where the sounds are barely audible, you can still make out the deep, raspy cough as they gasp for breath. "If that's her, there's nothing we can do for her."
CHAPTER 19
Aberdeen: March 31st
Sarah watched out the window as Curtis and Larry left the bank and headed out into the streets of Aberdeen, until they eventually disappeared from sight about a block away. Sitting in the dark, watching their sons huddle up together against the cold, damp air, she has no idea whether or not she'll ever see her husband again. Both of them are breaking their pledge to always stay together no matter what — him by leaving, and her by letting him go without trying to stop him. As angry as she is right now though, she can't imagine living with herself if they allow an innocent, healthy person like Christine to die needlessly, especially considering how few of them exist today.
All of them need a breather, a time where they can heal their wounds and start making long-term plans for how to deal with future struggles, like growing food and dealing with illnesses that were once easily managed by a primary physician. They also have to create their own set of laws to live by, which will likely include how they deal with infected people from now on. When Curtis tried to kill Amanda at the cabin, it seemed overly violent at the time, even to her — but after looking at everything with more perspective, it was an incredibly foolish thing to ever question his motive, as barbaric as it was.
For now though, all they can do is sit and wait for the others to contact her — and for their eventual return.
"How are you holding up?" Rachel asks, sitting down next to Sarah in front of one of the windows that face the street.
"They've only been gone about fifteen minutes."
"I'm sure we'll hear from them soon," Rachel says, not knowing what else to say. For a few moments they sit quietly, looking out the windows at the ash-covered pavement and empty streets of Aberdeen. "It's quieter here than I thought it would be."
"It seems like that now, but it won't be when the sun goes down. The streets must have been crawling with infected last night from the looks of the footprints," Sarah says, as she reaches inside of her coat and feels the cold, hard steel of a loaded pistol that Larry gave her — which despite its weight and cumbersome feel against her side, still gives her a sense of comfort just knowing that it's there. Her change of attitude toward guns has been dramatic to say the least, since less than a year ago she despised everything about them, telling Curtis that they weren't even allowed to be in the same house with their sons unless they were locked securely in a safe.
Rachel points down the street, where a man is stumbling around a corner and headed toward the harbor, his feet stumbling over the ground as he barely manages to stay upright.
"Considering everything that's happened, who would've thought that finding some peace and quiet would be so difficult…"
"It'll settle down after they're all dead."
"You know, it's kind of sexist when you think about it," Rachel says.
"What is?"
"The two men, running off to save a helpless girl — while us poor, defenseless women stay behind to take care of the kids."
Sarah glances out at the burned ruins of the city, and at the smoke seen rising from the east — then looks back at Rachel. "Well, it's hardly a fucking fairytale is it?"
"No, I just thought it was odd."
"There's a reason that they left both of us here."
"Why is that?"
"Because there's a decent chance that Amanda is waiting out there somewhere, maybe even across the street," Sarah says quietly, pointing her finger at the real estate office on the other side of the road.
Rachel, feeling even more paranoid than before, looks more closely at the surrounding buildings, hoping that she doesn't spot any signs of movement inside. "Matt talks about her like she's supernatural or something — like she's a ghost."
"Did he tell you that she killed her entire family?"
"He mentioned it, yeah."
"Did he happen to mention that it was before she got sick?"
"No, he didn't. How do you know that?"
"She told us, when we had her tied up at the cabin. She'd been planning to do it for months, at least her step-mother anyway, and she saw the evacuation as a perfect time to get away with it. I don't even think the kids know about it — although the bitch probably told Ben every grisly detail."
"Have you asked him about it?"
"He won't discuss any of it with us, not even after he's had a nightmare." Her attention suddenly turns to the corner of the lobby, where Matt and Ben were both sitting together only moments before and are now staring out another window that looks out toward the harbor in the south. Both of them are now standing with their faces pressed against the glass, speaking excitedly about whatever is on the other side. "What's going on over there?" Sarah asks them.
"Come look before it disappears, mom!" Matt yells out.
Sarah and Rachel both hurry over to the other side of the room and stand next to the boys, who are pointing between two buildings where you can barely see a sliver of the harbor "You two need to keep your voices down, we just saw somebody down the street."
"Look though, out on the water…"
She sees a glimpse of something dark as it disappears behind one of the buildings, but in a minute it shows up again on the other side, floating upstream against the current of the river. "What is it?"
"It's a boat — it has to be."
Rachel runs into the office, then comes back out carrying a pair of binoculars. She glances out the window quickly as she walks by, then unlocks the front door and steps out onto the sidewalk.
"Rachel, what you doing?" Sarah says incredulously, following her to the door, but staying mostly inside.
"It's only for a minute…" Rachel answers back, focusing the binoculars onto the cabin cruiser that shows up more clearly out in the open. "Do you think we should signal them or something?"
"No, I think we should get back inside before somebody sees us…"
"There's someone standing on the back of it — I think they're looking this way." Still watching them, Rachel waves her free arm in the air, which prompts Sarah to step out onto the sidewalk behind her. "If you listen closely you can hear the engine."
"Rachel, get inside, now…" Sarah w
arns her.
"Just a second, they're doing something… I think they're turning the boat."
Sarah walks up behind her and rips the binoculars out of her hands, then grabs her by the arm and pulls her back inside.
"What the hell are you doing?" Rachel yells.
"You can risk your life all you want, but you're not risking the lives of my family!" Sarah yells back. "We have no idea who the fuck those people are, or even if they're healthy…" She tosses the binoculars onto a chair, then turns to Matt and Ben. "Go grab your stuff, quick…"
"Are we moving?" Ben asks.
"Yes, but just down the block."
"What about dad, how will he find us?"
"We'll keep an eye out for him. Go do what I said — now!"
Rachel, who's standing there speechless, picks the binoculars up and looks out toward the harbor again — but wherever the boat went, it's now out of sight. "Sarah, is this really necessary? Those people are operating a boat for God's sake…"
"For all we know, that's one of those assholes from Grayland, or some other psycho that's looking for someone to kill," Sarah says, her voice frantic with fear and anger. "I'm not taking any chances, not anymore — especially after dealing with Jake."
Since their bags were already more or less packed, it only takes a few minutes for them to get ready — although Ben is being forced to walk on his own now that Curtis isn't there to wheel him around. With Sarah leading the way, they exit the bank and turn left toward the hospital, seeing a small cluster of businesses about two blocks up the road that look largely undamaged from the fire. When they come to an intersection, she looks north and sees a large pack of wild dogs running down the street away from them, chasing two deer through the center of the abandoned city.
"Which place are we hiding in?" Matt asks her, looking at the businesses ahead of them.
Sarah looks the shopping center over, seeing five businesses scattered around the shared parking lot. There's a gas station and grocery store on the corner, a laundromat, fast food restaurant, an insurance agent, and a credit union. Only the insurance agency looks like it's suffered damage, which is located by itself on the far end of the complex. "Let's check out the laundromat — if we're lucky it'll already be open."
"The store might have some food," Matt says.
"Yeah, but it also attracts people. The laundromat doesn't have anything." Every so often, Sarah glances down the hill to make sure they haven't been seen by any of the people from the boat, but as they reach the parking lot and head for the entrance of the credit union, they all hear the loud barking and howling coming from the woods behind the shopping center. "Ben, can you run?" Sarah asks, listening to the dogs quickly closing in on them.
Without answering, Ben starts running through the empty parking lot, all of them trying to keep up with Matt as he runs up to the door and pushes against it.
"It's locked," Matt says frantically.
Looking around at the other businesses, Sarah grabs onto Ben and pushes him behind her as she hears a dog growling ahead of them. She hands one of her bags to Rachel, then aims her gun as all of them begin backing up in the direction of the credit union. "Matt, check the next door," she says calmly, keeping her eyes on the mutt that's now approaching with its hackles up. When it gets to within about ten feet, she grips the handle of the gun more tightly, then begins squeezing the trigger — but right before she fires, she sees more movement out of the corner of her eye, and several more dogs start spreading throughout the parking lot, all of them staring directly at her.
"It's open!" Matt says, holding the door open for Ben and Rachel to enter. "Mom, come on…"
Afraid to even move, Sarah stays still as the dog in front of her waits for the others to join in — and it's not until they all hear a gunshot somewhere in the distance that the dogs are momentarily distracted enough for Sarah to back through the doorway and into the credit union. Once she moves, the dog focuses on her once again and lunges at the door, smashing its face against the tempered security glass. Within a couple of minutes they can see more than a dozen other dogs of mixed breeds move in and jump at the door and windows.
"Everybody get back, they might leave if they can't see us," Sarah says, as the group moves behind the teller counter and sits down on the floor, still hearing the barking and fighting going on outside the entrance.
"Did you hear that gunshot?" Matt asks.
"Yeah, it sounded like it came from down by the water." Sarah answers back, looking over at Rachel, who's staring straight ahead with a blank look in her eyes. "Rachel, are you still with us?"
Snapping out of whatever mental trap she was in, tears begin to run down her cheeks as she hands the binoculars to Matt. "I'm sorry Sarah, I didn't mean for any of this…"
"Listen to me — we can't afford to lose it right now, we have to stay focused on getting through this, okay?" Seeing her nod in agreement, Sarah starts examining the layout of the credit union while still remaining on the floor. The layout isn't all that different from the bank they were in before, except that there's no heavily secured corner office here. It's just a lobby, several teller counters, a few cubicles on one side, and a massive safe that's wide-open just a few feet from where they're hiding. The dogs, who were scratching at the door and barking just a few seconds before, are now almost completely silent. "Matt, take a peek around the corner and see if they're still there."
He leans his head out from behind the counter and watches for several seconds, then turns to the group. "They're still out there, but they're watching something down the hill."
As Matt leans over again, they all hear another series of gunshots, this time sounding as if it's from a fully automatic rifle. Glass can be heard crashing down behind them as bullets come flying through the air above, and a few of the dogs start whimpering in pain as the gunfire continues. After several seconds the firing finally stops, and the sounds of humans screaming and dogs barking can be heard instead. Then, as suddenly as it all started, the air becomes quiet once again. They all lie there motionless for a minute, waiting for some sort of confirmation that it's all over — but when the sound of crunching glass echoes throughout the small lobby, and the strong scent of cigarettes fill the air, they know that it's only a matter of time before somebody discovers where they're hiding.
CHAPTER 20
Aberdeen: March 31st
On the last several steps of the staircase, between the fifth and sixth levels of the hospital, Curtis and Larry are forced to walk on the far right side of the walkway, hoping to avoid stepping in the pools of blood that are covering most of the floor surface. Considering the massive amount that's spilled across the landings and running down the steps, there's absolutely no doubt in Larry's mind that whoever it once belonged to is now dead — it's just not possible for someone to survive that much loss. It appears to have originated at one of the lower floors, where a bloody trail winds its way up the staircase and ends on the sixth floor landing, where it disappears beneath the locked steel door.
"What now?" Curtis whispers, watching Larry quietly and unsuccessfully trying to turn the handle on the door.
"I don't know — I wish someone would answer the radio." Larry tries to peek through the window in the door, but someone has fastened something to the inside of the glass, preventing him from seeing anything but darkness through the thin cracks in the surface of the material. "Maybe I'll try it again, in the off-chance that Mike is still alive."
They switch places, with Curtis standing next to the door as Larry steps behind him and tries the radio one last time. Curtis hears a faint noise, barely audible, coming from somewhere around the door — like a scratching sound against the steel panel of the entry.
"Mike, or Christine, come in… We have the insulin, and we're right outside the door," Larry says into the radio, suddenly noticing the noise himself.
Seeing that the covering over the window is loose on the bottom, Curtis peers through it and sees a speck of light from somewhere on
the other side, but otherwise only darkness in the room beyond. When he focuses once again on the glow of light, trying to see what it could possibly be coming from, he sees a quick flash of movement in front of it, and then what looks like someone's face staring back at him. He steps back slightly and shines the flashlight at the window, thinking that he might catch a glimpse of Amanda's evil grin in the small opening — but instead of seeing something, he hears a metallic click coming from the door, and then the handle slowly turns as the doorway opens up a couple of inches.
"Larry, turn the radio down," Curtis says, referring to the low hiss coming from the handset. With his flashlight in one hand and his gun in the other, Curtis uses his foot to open the door the rest of the way, as Larry stands behind him and aims his gun through the opening.
"Careful," Larry whispers. "I can see something moving in there."
Curtis leans forward some, moving the flashlight beam around the room full of scattered papers and jumbled furniture, all of it smeared with streaks and hand prints of blood. As the thick, metallic smell of blood enters his nose, he stops moving for a moment and just listens for any sound at all that might be coming from the area. He hears and feels the sharp howling of wind coming from the hallway that's straight ahead of him, and a low thump coming from some direction that's indiscernible — but it's a miserable sounding whimper that actually attracts his attention, also coming from down the hallway. Looking ahead, he can see the daylight shining in through the windows of the waiting room, and a chair that's sitting in the middle of the corridor with someone in it, facing them. He still can't tell what they look like, but he can see the struggling movements of their body as they try to get up, and the desperate sounds that they're making, as though they've been gagged.
Forcing himself to move, he takes a few steps forward into the room, not aware that Larry isn't following from behind — and as soon as he passes completely through the entryway, he feels someone push him off balance as he falls onto the floor, and the door to the staircase slams shuts. Scanning around the room frantically with the light, he just barely sees a blood-soaked black coat before the flashlight is knocked out of his hands, landing somewhere on the other side of the room with a loud crash, and immersing the entire room into darkness. He aims his gun in the direction of every noise, no matter how minuscule or insignificant, but he's afraid of wasting the few rounds of ammunition he has on him — so he decides instead to scramble to his feet and back up against the wall, hearing at least two sets of footsteps ahead of him and to his right. Larry's voice, dampened by the steel security door, can be heard on his right, yelling at him to open the door — but he's afraid if he moves toward it that it might give away his location to whoever else is in the room.