by James Bierce
Knowing that Christine is likely the one tied up in the chair, he listens for a moment, waiting until he hears someone walking into a desk just a little to his left. He fires his gun, hearing them cry out and screaming in pain — and then he hears a gleeful laugh from another direction, coming from a voice that he instantly recognizes. As more footsteps are heard, this time coming toward him from the right, he fires another single gunshot, and again hears a body hitting the floor in agony. He tries to listen closely through the screaming and thrashing around coming from both sides of the room, but he hears absolutely nothing else — until a whisper appears in his right ear, so close that he can feel their breath on his skin.
"Did you think that was me?" Amanda asks coldly, holding a blade to his side.
As soon as the door shuts, trapping him outside on the stairwell landing, Larry immediately grabs the handle and tries to open it again — unsure of whether it closed by accident or on purpose. What distracted him was a voice from somewhere down the staircase — a voice that sounded an awful lot like Christine's.
"Curtis, can you hear me?" he yells, still trying to twist the handle. "Curtis, open the door!"
He stops and listens, hearing nothing but a slight wind coming from down the stairwell shaft — and then he hears the the girl's voice again, this time screaming.
"Curtis, open the damn door!"
With no answer coming, and the screaming continuing downstairs, Larry runs back down the stairs until he reaches the open door of the fifth floor, his mind conflicted on whether he should stay with Curtis or possibly fall for a trap chasing after Christine's voice. As he enters the main corridor and begins walking past the various patient rooms and offices, he can hear Christine yelling at someone to stop, and then call for help in a desperate, sobbing plea. When he reaches an intersection and starts to turn right, still following her pitiful cries, he suddenly hears a loud gunshot coming from upstairs, and then another one only moments later. He starts to turn back, shining his flashlight beam back toward the stairwell again — but as the beam illuminates the doorway at the end of the hall, he sees several dark shadows pass by it, all of them heading up to the top floor. Knowing that there's nothing he can do with a stairwell full of infected, he turns back around and walks carefully toward a large room at the end of the hallway, where the screams are becoming closer. He can see a body lying on the carpet just ahead of him, and several people standing around a heavily damaged door on the far side of the room.
"Christine?" he calls out, aiming his gun from one person to another, before finally keeping his sights set on a woman that's slamming her fists against the glass window next to the door. As soon as the words leave his mouth, all five of them turn around and face him, then quickly return their attention to the office in front of them. "Christine, can you hear me?" he yells out again, looking behind him to make sure someone doesn't sneak up on him.
"Larry, I'm in here!" she yells out, appearing in the window right behind the woman.
"Okay, listen… I need you to duck down on the floor, okay?" After watching her disappear from sight, he waits for a moment to allow her enough time to find cover, then breathes in deeply to clear his head before firing his first shot. The first one strikes the woman in the head, passing clear through her and into the window — shattering the glass onto the floor in both rooms. The next three men each take a couple of shots to take down, none of them even bothering to turn around and stop their assault as the others drop to the floor and writhe around in agony. The fifth person, with one hand on the doorknob, stands still for a moment — their long, gray hair that runs down to the small of their back disguising anything else about the physique of the person. They slowly turn their body toward Larry — and the withered up face of an older woman stares back at him as he sends a barrage of bullets into her torso and shoulder. None of them, however, have any effect on the woman — and after firing several more shots he starts to back up as she takes a few steps toward him, her wounds making a trail of dripping blood behind her as she passes by the counter of the kitchenette.
Hearing footsteps behind him, he turns around and quickly glances at the hallway again, seeing shadows running back and forth on the main corridor — but thankfully, none of them are moving in his direction. Focusing once again on the approaching woman, he reaches into his pocket and grabs another loaded clip and slaps it into place, letting the empty one fall to the floor. Her movements are slow and deliberate, but obviously hostile, slamming her hands onto the countertop repeatedly and screaming incoherent words at him. After waiting patiently for her to get close enough, he carefully aims the pistol at her forehead and pulls the trigger, sending her momentarily to her knees before she finally collapses to the tile.
Noticing his flashlight getting dimmer, and confident that all five of them are dead, he works his way through the waiting room, trying to stay clear of any splattered blood or corpses as he gazes through the window of the office. "Christine, are you okay?" Larry asks, keeping his voice low.
"Are they gone?"
""They're gone, it's safe to come out," he says back, in a voice only slightly louder than a whisper.
Climbing out from underneath the desk, Christine unlocks the door and tries to open it, but it takes both of them to break it free from the jam after being bent out of shape and wedged tightly in the opening. "Amanda is in here somewhere — she's in the hospital…" Christine says, hugging Larry as soon as the door is opened.
"I know, I had a feeling something was wrong when we talked last night."
She starts walking toward the hallway, but Larry grabs her arm and holds her back. "Larry, we need to get out of here before she finds us…"
"I know, but Curtis came with me — and he's still upstairs."
"Shit, I think…" Before finishing her sentence, they both hear a scream coming from somewhere far away, in a voice that definitely sounds like a man in pain. "Was that her or Curtis?"
"Curtis. Do you know if there's another way out of here besides the stairwell?"
"Amanda is getting around in here somehow, but I don't know how she's doing it."
Another scream echoes throughout the hospital, and then more footsteps can be heard coming from their floor, and they're getting closer. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out another gun and hands it to her. "If you see anyone but a man about my age, kill them."
"I already have a gun, and it still has a few bullets in it — just not enough to take care of all of these people."
"Take it anyway, you're gonna need a lot more than a few bullets."
CHAPTER 21
Aberdeen: March 31st
From the other side of the bank counter, Sarah can still hear the crunching of glass as someone walks slowly around the lobby, their footsteps out of rhythm as they limp around the room. Every five or six steps they pause for a few seconds, then continue on again, each time getting closer to where Rachel and the boys are hiding silently next to her — and then she looks up when she hears their breathing above her, each one sounding labored and excruciating. Looking over at Rachel, who's staring back at her with a frightened look on her face, Sarah grips the gun in her hand and holds it straight up into the air, expecting at any moment to see a face appear over the edge. Instead, there's a loud thumping sound, and they feel the floor shake as something falls right behind them.
"Jim, can you hear me?" a deep, gravelly voice says. "Jim — I'm in a credit union at the bottom of the hill, and I think I'm hurt pretty bad." They hear him start to groan as he repositions himself against the counter, and a congested cough after taking a long drag from a cigarette. "Foreign-made piece of shit…"
Sarah starts to get to her feet, then feels Matt try to pull her back down again — but she motions for him to stay put and stands up anyway, cautiously glancing around the lobby first before making her way around to the front of the counter. The man is older, most likely in his 70s, and is leaned up against the front of the teller counter, a cigarette hanging loosely from his
mouth, and a radio and pistol lying on the floor next to him. He looks up at her and waves his hand slightly, then looks down at his leg where there's a large red bloodstain on his torn jeans.
"Don't even think about reaching for the gun," she tells him sternly, pointing the gun at his head as she keeps several feet of distance between them.
"Don't worry, I won't touch it," he says in a weakened voice. "Go ahead and kick it away if it makes you feel better, it's out of ammo anyway."
"You're hurt?"
"Yeah, those fucking mutts got me."
"Are you with somebody?"
"I was with another guy, but he didn't make it — neither did the dogs though."
The gun is lying only inches away from his hand, which makes her leery about getting any closer to him — especially when he believes she's alone. "Matt, come on out," she says, backing up a few steps to meet him, then handing the gun to him. "I'm gonna grab his gun — if he moves at all, shoot him in the head."
"Okay, I will," Matt says, trying to make his voice sound older and more mature.
"Have you ever shot someone before, boy?" the man asks, watching Sarah circle around to the other side.
"I wouldn't have handed him the gun if he hadn't…" Sarah answers, kicking both the gun and radio away from him and then picking them both up.
"I need that radio…"
After checking the gun, and seeing that it's out of ammunition just like he said that it was, she looks down and sees the pool of blood that's running across the floor from beneath him. "Judging from the amount of blood you've lost, I don't think the radio will do you much good anyway."
"Is she always this heartless?" the man asks Matt.
"Hey, don't speak to him, speak to me…" She steps back away from him and takes the gun back from Matt, then grabs a nearby chair and places it a good distance away from him. "You came in on that boat?"
"My brother's boat, who'll be looking for me if I don't radio him back — and trust me, you don't wanna meet him."
"Where are you from?"
"Lady, I'm not answering any more of your pointless questions — just give me my damn radio back…"
"And you'll do what, call your brother for help? I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that."
"He'll come looking, I can promise you that."
"Well, it's a damn big city, I'm sure he'll do his best."
"Sarah, just give him the radio," Rachel says, standing behind her in plain view. "We can find somewhere else to hide."
"You can't let me die like this — it's not right," the man says.
"Answer my question — where are you from?" Sarah asks again.
"Coos Bay, Oregon. We left as soon as the weather started clearing up."
"Are you gonna give him the radio now?" Rachel asks.
"Nobody can know we were here…" Sarah starts to say to her.
"I won't tell anybody, I promise," the man says.
"…and he's dead already, whether help arrives or not," she finishes saying, seeing the look of disappointment on Rachel's face.
"Should we at least try to stop the bleeding?" Rachel asks incredulously.
"No, nobody goes near him — he has a knife hidden under his coat, I saw it when he turned toward me." While still keeping an eye on the old man, Sarah walks to the front of the lobby and looks through the broken glass door at the parking lot and street, seeing one human body lying on the sidewalk, and several dead dogs scattered all around it. There's also a trail of blood running across the lot and into the credit union — but there's no sign of anybody else, not even down the street where the bank is located. "You saw us, didn't you? You came here looking for us…"
"We saw the binoculars — we thought you might be healthy." With some effort, he takes a large knife from underneath his coat and throws it onto the floor in front of Rachel. "There, now I'm completely unarmed."
Sarah watches as Rachel kicks the knife across the room, and notices that it has a fair amount of blood on it — then she looks back through the door and sees some movement down another street just a few blocks away, where two more men are walking quickly in their direction. "Matt, check the back door, make sure we can get out."
"Why, what's wrong?"
"Just do as I say, and don't go outside." She steps back, making sure that she's out of sight, then picks the knife up from the floor and kneels down beside the man. "I'm truly sorry, I really am," she says tearfully. Without any further hesitation, she drives the knife deep into his chest, holding his arms down for just a moment to prevent him from fighting.
"What the hell did you do that for?" Rachel yells out.
"Shh, be quiet — there's two men coming this way from the north. We need to get out of here before they find him."
"Why did you kill him though? You didn't have to do that…"
"I didn't kill him, the dogs killed him," she responds, placing the knife back under his coat near the stab wound. "If they find him alive, they'll hunt us down and kill us — or worse. He was as good as dead when he came through that door anyway."
"Where are we going?" Rachel asks, staring at the man's body as Sarah stands up and wipes her hands on her jeans, then fishes something out of one of their bags.
"We'll go up to the hospital and find someplace to hide, then wait for them to come out," Sarah answers, standing over the man again. She can tell that Rachel's nerves are still rattled — in truth, they have been since they first met her. "Rachel, don't look at him — just go help Matt and Ben move our things out back. I'll be out in a minute…"
Although Sarah is looking at the man's corpse, she can feel Rachel staring at her for a moment — then she sees her walk around the counter and grab a few of their bags before heading out through the back with Matt and Ben, leaving Sarah alone in the lobby with a dead body, two approaching men, and a set of smaller footprints that have left marks of blood across the carpet and toward the rear exit. She didn't even think about it when she asked for Matt to come out, but when she forces herself to see the room with fresh eyes — like the two men will — it isn't hard to figure out that other people have been here. She walks to the window and glances down the road again, seeing the men about a block and a half away now — then she takes a bottle of lighter fluid from out of her bag, and begins squirting it over the man's body and the surrounding carpet, focusing especially on the areas where Matt's footprints are visible. After nearly emptying the bottle, she takes a wadded up piece of paper and ignites it with a lighter, then drops it onto the floor where the heaviest concentration of fluid was placed. The first flames start out slow, spreading leisurely across the paper — and then after almost going out, the fire reaches the fumes from the lighter fluid, and the flooring is soon covered in fast moving flames that quickly engulf both the stained carpet and the body.
Sarah looks closely at the floor leading to the back door, and is relieved when she doesn't spot any other trace of blood from Matt's shoes. By the time she picks up the remaining bags and heads to the door herself, the room is beginning to fill with foul-smelling smoke, which pours out of the doorway as she exits the building and sees the others waiting for her.
"Did you set the building on fire?" Matt asks.
"I'll explain later — we have to find someplace to hide before they spot us."
"What about up there?" Ben says, pointing at a small shed that's only about a hundred feet away, sitting along a pathway that winds uphill through some woods at the foot of the hospital.
Without saying anything herself, and hearing some commotion in the bank behind them, Sarah motions for the others to keep quiet, then starts up the hill in the direction of the shed, looking back occasionally to see if they're being followed. When they finally reach the shed, which thankfully is unlocked, the smell of filth and rot instantly hits them as they open the door and enter — and when Sarah's eyes finally begin to adjust to the darkness, she sees exactly why it smells so horrible. Besides the two mostly-rotten corpses that are leaned up against the back
wall, there's also buckets of human waste and open bottles of urine lying around on the floor. Moving over to a small, mildew-covered window that looks down at the back of the credit union, she can hear the sound of breaking glass beneath her feet as she walks across old syringes and other garbage that's been left over from whoever lived here before.
"Nobody move, and don't touch anything," Sarah whispers, peering through the nearly opaque window at the back of the strip mall below.
"Can I turn the flashlight on, just for a second?" Ben asks.
"No, leave it off — just until these guys go away."
She can see smoke rolling over the roof from the front of the bank, and the noxious black fumes streaming past the rundown shack that they're hiding in, partially obscuring the dreadful smell that surrounds them. In only a few minutes the smoke appears at the back door of the credit union as well, and then the neighboring stores as the inferno quickly spreads throughout the complex. For a moment she worries what Curtis might think if he happens to look down the hill right now, seeing a fire only a few blocks from where he left all of them — but she's afraid to use the radio to contact him, knowing that there's a good chance that he has it turned off anyway, to stay hidden from anybody still lurking inside the hospital walls. That particular anxiety and worry, however, disappears from her mind when she sees the two men run around the corner of the strip mall, and head straight to the closed back door of the bank.