by M. D. Massey
13
Three days later, we gather in the rec room.
Word had spread about the escape, but we had to be careful the wrong people didn't hear it. The others begin to arrive, nervous energy filling the room. The map of the compound spreads out before us on the ping pong table.
“There is an exit here,” I point to the red jagged field on the map. “I almost didn't see it because it's on one of the basement levels below the ground floor.”
“Basement One,” Rose interjects. “Ash, it's filled with them. From Basement One on down. There are dozens, if not hundreds of creatures down there. We'll never get past them?”
“I will,” I say.
A slow dawning reaches all of their expressions.
“What's the plan?” Rose asks.
“The easy part is going to be getting me out,” I say. “I can walk right past them. Once I'm out, I'll connect with our outside contact. Eva has arranged for them to give me a vehicle or two. Then we'll come back for all of you. This is where it get's a little tricky. One of the vehicles will have to break through the wall, here.” I point to the highlighted line on the map.
“The library,” Rose says, her brow furrowing in concentration.
“We load everyone up, here. We'll have to move quickly. The noise and activity will attract the zombies around the perimeter, but once everyone is inside the vehicles and moving again, you'll be perfectly safe. Any questions so far?”
“Sounds simple enough,” says Bertrand with a slight chuckle, placing a protective hand over his daughter's shoulder.
“Someone will need to make sure everyone is here when we return. Once I'm out, we're planning for a one day turn around. I'll be back this time tomorrow night,”
“I'll make sure,” Thorn says. I had almost forgotten his presence, leaning up against the wall at the other side of the table. “I'll get everyone to the library.”
I give him a quick nod. “We'll have to move fast. Everyone will need to be ready.”
“Then what?” asks one of the younger children, a girl with large frightened eyes.
“We can start over,” I say.
I look at the group before me, all watching me as if seeking some kind of resolution which I cannot provide.
“Listen,” I begin. “I know many of you have never been out there. You are scared, and rightly so. I've seen people die more times than I care to recall. But people learn to navigate the landscape, how to survive, and you will learn too.
“We have information that over the mountains the landscape is free of the creatures. If we can get you there, all of you can live without having to worry about them.”
“Isn't it risky?” Bertrand asks.
“Of course it's risky,” I snap. A hush falls over the gathered few. “But is it worth staying and continuing to be complicit in the sick experiments going on here? In here the walls have kept you safe from the zombies. The same walls that have kept out have also kept you locked in.”
“Do you think they will ever stop?” Thorn asks. “The way they think they can mess with people this way?” His expression is sharp, angled, eyes flashing and bearing down on me with ferocious intensity as if we are the only two people in the room.
“I don't think so,” I reply meeting his stare.
“It's wrong, Ash. And I'm not sorry to say, but I hate her for what she's done to you.”
It takes me a moment to pull my gaze away from his.
“Okay then,” I say. “That settles it. I go tonight. The rest of you get a good night's sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”
“I'll walk with you,” Rose says. “If that's okay. I'll take you as far as the door.”
“It's dangerous.”
“I'll be careful.” Her expression is wide-eyed and eager. “I'll only come with you as far as I'm able.”
“Okay,” I reply.
Everyone's eyes are on us as we leave the room, but it is Thorn's lingering gaze which puzzles me the most. I have no idea what he gains from watching me the way he does. Rose and I leave the room and head down the hallway towards the stairs. I do my best to ignore the knot in my stomach.
“Basement One is two levels down from here,” she says.
I push away the memory of the sound, the awful unearthly sound of the zombies from the basement in the abandoned laboratory. We walk in silence, descending each step with careful movements. I stay in front just in case, wishing I still had the security of my weapons. We make it down the first flight, but dark shadows fall across our path. What lay in those shadows is impossible to know.
“Wait,” I whisper holding out my hand to stop her. My mind extends out, taking in the space around us, feeling for anything, anyone who might be a threat. Nothing is there. “Okay, it's clear.”
At the final level, we arrive at a gray unmarked door. I recall a mental image of the map, getting my bearings to where we are located. This door opens to a long dark tunnel leading underneath the outer wall, through the occupied space out on the other side of the chain link fence.
“You should go back,” I say. “Get everyone ready for tomorrow. I'll make it through from here.”
“They could be anywhere,” she whispers. “Be careful.”
I nod and place my hand on the door knob. We wait. A few moments later the lights go dark. Ten o' clock. The grid is down.
“Ash, wait.”
I turn towards her, and to my surprise, she grabs me in an awkward hug.
“No matter what, I want you to know... I'm glad I got to meet you.” With that, she turns and rushes back up the stairs.
I open the door and step through, pulling it closed behind me.
The sickly sweet smell of rotted flesh permeates the claustrophobic space. That sound, that broken, gasping breathing meets my ears, and my skin prickles in response. I walk forward, allowing my mind the levity to sense where they are in the darkness, seeing them without using my eyes. They turn towards me, attracted by the movement, but they make no further motions.
A strange empathy overtakes me, hearing them shuffle in place. The same doctors who perpetuated the horrors I witnessed had done this to them. They had once been persons with lives and families who loved them. The anger I feel about learning my origin stirs once more and extends to these beings around me, victims in this grand scheme like so many others. Like me.
I blink away the tears as I reach the door at the far side, pushing my way through. I walk steadily until certain I have cleared the area around the compound before I break into a run. Finding a tree, I climb to the highest branch which will support me, pull my knees to my chest and lean against the rough bark.
For the rest of the night, I am awake, scanning the horizon for the sunrise. Once daylight hits, I'll be able to travel more safely find my way to Eva's outside contact. I spot in the distance a speck on the horizon, moving down the stretch of highway, approaching through the field which appears familiar in a way I cannot pin point. The truck pulls to a stop, and immediately I recognize the driver, her long dark hair, shadowed eyes, and wicked smile aimed my way.
Alma.
“Get in,” she calls through the lowered window.
My feet hit the ground in a full sprint, but my foot slips in the dew soaked grass, stumbling up the slope towards the vehicle. I scramble into the passenger side as fast as I can go, gasping to catch my breath while Alma shifts gears, tires squealing spinning out against the pavement.
“It's about time, Ash,” she says once we gain traction. “We've been waiting for you.”
14
The truck careens down the highway leaving a trail of black exhaust behind us, speeding away from the laboratory compound and all the horrors it contains therein. Alma presses the gas like someone on a mission.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
Alma grins, clutching the wheel. She lifts one hand, shaping her fingers into a loose V. “Does this mean anything to you?” she asks.
“Yes, it does,” I reply. “Are you in o
n it, too?”
She laughs. “Eden told me to do it. I have no idea what it means.”
“It means I can trust you. Now, where are we headed?”
“Back to Eden's. Everyone is waiting for you.”
“How far are we?” I glance backward, watching the looming edifice disappear as we veer around the bend in the road. My mind struggles to piece the information together. I turn back to face her. “Alma, we can't go back there. Eden is the one who turned me over to them. I heard her talking the night I left.”
“No, Ash. It's not what you think.”
“Then what is it?” The pine trees slip by on either side of us.
“When you ran out that night, Eden figured out that you had heard her talking. She put it together and realized how it must have sounded from your perspective.”
“Who was she talking to?” I ask.
“Eva.” Alma glances my way, her wrist resting on the steering wheel.
“Eva!” I exclaim. “Is Eden the outside contact Eva mentioned?”
“Yeah,” Alma laughs. “She is.”
Another turn and we pull up to the familiar gate of Eden's farm. The dim morning sky glows just enough that I can spot Ezekiel pulling open the gate to allow us through. He pulls it closed behind us, and Alma scurries out to help him.
“Are we safe?” I ask after the final gate swings closed behind us.
“Yes,” Alma answers. “We're safe, Ash. We made it.”
Eden's living room is just as before, large, welcoming couch cushions and frilly tabletops. The household has already begun to stir. Down the hallway, I hear footsteps and sound of the water running as the denizens prepare for the coming day. Abraham and his unforgettable beard sit at the corner of the couch, ever watchful. His silent eyes watch us as Alma and I enter the room. Ezekiel slips in behind us.
“Right on time,” Ezekiel mutters.
Eden appears out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on the gingham apron tied around her waist. Her eyes light up and she beckons us forward, her arms outstretched. She motions for me to come and sit, much like she had the first time I arrived. A bowl of thick stew appears, brimming with hearty broth and shreds of meat, followed by a plate of crumbly biscuits. I consume the food with an unmatched passion, realizing with slow dawning how it feels to be safe.
Safe.
Eden had not betrayed me after all. Alma had rescued me based on Eva's instructions. The whole group of them back at the compound are trusting me to return when night falls. The feeling is strange, foreign, but not entirely unpleasant. No one speaks as I eat, but everyone watches me with some caution. Ezekiel eyes me from the kitchen doorway, slouching against the frame. I do my best to ignore him, keeping my attention to the food before me.
“Ash,” Eden speaks with a quiet, gentle voice. “I wanted to apologize about the misunderstanding. I should have been forthcoming with you from the beginning. It was never my intention to frighten you.”
“It's done,” I say. “I shouldn't have assumed. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
“You'll help me?” I ask. “Get them out I mean?”
“Yes. Eva has already communicated with us. It's how we knew where to send Alma to collect you.”
Ezekiel takes a seat across from me, leaning forward and planting his elbows on the table. He shoots a glance towards Eden and then back to me before he speaks. “How does it work exactly?”
“Ezekiel!” Eden chides him.
“It's alright, Eden,” I say. “I don't mind.”
“So what is it? Some kind of mind control?” Ezekiel glares at me, waiting for my response.
I consider for a moment. “The truth is, I don't really know. It's not something that works all the time. It comes and goes. If I'm weak or haven't eaten for a long time it doesn't work. I think it only worked that day because I had been here for a few weeks, eating meals and getting regular sleep.”
“How did you discover it?” This time it is Alma doing the asking as she sits down.
I consider for a moment before I respond. “I think the first time I realized what I could do, after leaving the compound, I mean, must have been when I was maybe eleven. I had found my way into a storage facility outside of a city, full of food. I'd never eaten so well. The plan was to set up camp and stay for a while, as long as I could. I gorged myself on peanut butter, canned pickles, dry cereal... I can't even tell you the stomach ache I had that day.
“So I went outside to get a lay of the area and to find a place to pee. They came at me fast. At the time, of course, I couldn't remember anything from my childhood, so I had no idea. It didn't help that my pants were tangled around my ankles. I knew I was done for. There were so many of them. I panicked, fell backward into the mud. That's when I noticed they had stopped moving. They stood around me, just kind of shifting from one foot to the other ignoring me.”
Alma's eyes go wide as she takes in the information.
“After that, I taught myself how to do it. It took a lot of concentration. I learned the hard way that I can't do it all the time.”
The image of Marcus flashes across my mind. Perhaps Eden realizes my brief discomfort somehow. She comes to my rescue with a terse interjection. “We have a lot of work to do to prepare for tonight. You should get some sleep now.”
She is right.
As soon as the words are spoken, the heaviness of my exhaustion takes hold, compounded in part by the rich meal I just consumed. Alma leads me down the hall to the same room I occupied during my previous stay.
“Will you be okay?” she asks.
“Yeah. Eden is right, though. I think I just need a few hours of sleep.”
“You're safe here, you know.”
“I know. Thanks.”
She closes the door. I am alone. This knowledge lets go of the knot in my muscles and I relax for the first time in a long time. I am not being watched by some hidden camera or nefarious scientists. I waste no time kicking off my shoes, peeling off my clothes and surrendering to the comfort of the quilted bed.
* * *
Sunlight streams through the window. The aroma of coffee and bacon drifts across my senses. My body is stiff and sore, and I feel as if I have just closed my eyes. I reach for the tee shirt crumpled on the floor next to the bed. After pulling on a clean pair of jeans, I shuffle to the dining room, circling through the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee.
Eden sits at the table with her coffee.
“Where did you get this?” I ask, gesturing to the steaming mug.
“A supply run from the east. Our contacts send what they can when we bring people over the mountains.”
We sit in silence for a while with our coffee. This time of day, the others would be out in the gardens, checking the fences, or gathering water. Eden and I are alone in the house. She stands and walks over to the window.
“I know what they're doing up there,” she says. “In that laboratory.”
I do not answer. The knowledge hangs between us in the silence, an invisible blight that cannot be undone.
“They stay up there,” she continues. “Believing they can change things, believing they can fix it. They can't. None of us can. We've done this to ourselves, you know. I don't know. Maybe they can fix it in the end, but I don't think so. This is the world we live in now.”
“Did you know her? Doctor Donovan, I mean?”
She stands still, gazing out the window, the sloping landscape. Her reply is so long in coming that I begin to think she has not heard me.
“Yes, I knew her,” she says at last.
The sound of the others returning through the front door interrupts our reverie. Ezekiel slams through the screen door, pausing to kick off his boots. He walks through the dining room, heavy footsteps, returning from the kitchen a moment later with his own coffee and a handful of bacon strips. He slurps one into his mouth in one bite.
“Those are for lunch,” Eden scolds.
Ezekiel shrugs.
She giv
es him a significant glance before passing him into the kitchen, our conversation either forgotten or set aside. Ezekiel returns the glare before pointing it at me. We are alone for a moment. He sets down his mug and pulls the chair across from me with a loud scrape across the floor.
“There is something I'd like to know,” he says.
“What's that?” I ask sipping my coffee with raised eyebrows.
“I think you know.” He still wears the same dour expression as ever, tilting his head down to glare at me from underneath his eyebrows.
I run one finger around the rim of my coffee mug. “I'll be honest with you, Ezekiel. I have no idea what your problem is with me. Care to enlighten me?”
“I think you know,” he mutters.
“Seriously! Will you quit with the passive aggressive bullshit? I don't know. Other than being just another threat in this vast world of threats, I have no idea what your problem is.”
He shifts in his chair. “Okay, fine. You get a free pass this time.”
“What kind of free pass?”
“I watched you stop them with your mind. I saw it happen.”
I think about Marcus and suppress the urge to punch Ezekiel in the face.
“Do you have any idea what people would give...?” he says. “I mean, you can basically control them, right?”
I give a slight nod. “It's not very pleasant if that makes you feel better.”
His eyebrow twitches. “Maybe a little.”
“Would you do it?” I ask, keeping my gaze even with his. “If you had to, would you do it?”
“Walk through a crowd of them? Are you kidding me? If I could do that, I would run this world.”
I've had enough. “You keep thinking that,” I snap. “Because for me, it's a last resort. And despite what you think, there are times when it doesn't work and I have to watch people die. Do you have any free passes for that?”
He nods slowly, wheels turning behind his eyes.
“I never asked for this,” I say.