Dead World

by Lucas Pederson

  “Ugh,” Gerty says. “Bastard.”

  Rip shoves the creature off him, rolls onto his stomach and gains his feet. He wobbles a moment, then says, “Ouch.”

  His right shoulder bleeds badly. Alyx checks her pack for a first-aid kit, and finds a sealed bag of gauze and various quick-fix remedies. She tears the bag open with her teeth and goes to help Rip with his shoulder wound when a loud roar echoes through the chamber.

  She manages a half turn when something heavy crashes into her back. She lands hard onto the stone floor as the thing on top of her buries its claws into her sides. She screams as hot agony laces through her body.

  Then, all at once, the pain lessens. There’s a short burst of gunfire, a squeal. Then silence.

  She rolls onto her side just as Gerty puts a laser sonic bullet into another creature’s head.

  Alyx sits up, grimacing at the pain stabbing into her sides. Thanks to the tactical gear under her jacket, the claws didn’t go too deep. Or at least, she hopes not. She cuts away Rip’s shoulder gear and finds an angry looking bite mark. His skin is torn, but once again, thanks to the gear, the wound isn’t as bad as it could’ve been. She patches him up as best as she can and sighs.

  “Sorry, guys. This isn’t the way out.”

  “Kinda figured that out after you didn’t find anything,” Gerty says.

  Alyx manages a thin smile. “Right. Anyway, the way out might be through any of these passageways, except for the one we already took.”

  “I need a damn bomb,” Rip says. “Blow a hole in the door.”

  “Do you have a bomb?” Alyx grins.

  Rip chuckles, wincing from the pain in his shoulder. “I wish. Doubt a grenade will do anything as thick as these walls are.”

  “Yeah, a grenade will leave, maybe, a scuffed surface.”

  “Well, looks like we’re doing some more walking.” Rip tips her a wink and moves toward the center of the chamber.

  “You alright?” Gerty asks. The girl’s expression is full concern.

  “Yeah,” Alyx says. “I think so. It didn’t get me too deep. Thank you.”

  Gerty smiles. “No need. We’re a team.”

  Even though it hurts to walk, Alyx pats Gerty’s shoulder and makes her way to the center of the chamber with Rip.

  “I have some painkillers in the bag if you need them,” she tells Rip.

  But the big man shakes his head. “I’ll live.”

  She nods. “I know. Just making sure.”

  Rip favors her with a smile and she smiles back.

  After a moment, Rip faces her. “So, I’m at a loss. Which one should we take?”

  Alyx eyes all seven passageways, six, minus the one they returned to the chamber through. So, six passages. If they had more time and resources, she’d try out each. But since they only have what water and food Gerty and Rip carry, then their situation is a bit more dire. She needs to figure out which passage is the right one. Which one will lead them to a way out. But then again, how the hell is she supposed to figure that out? There’s no way to know for sure which passageway is the right one.

  Despite all her knowledge, this chamber boasts absolutely nothing to go on.

  So, six passageways. Three creatures dead, five more still stalking the darkness. And considering the possibility that each creature hunts their own passage…

  The last one came through the passageway directly across from the small chamber they were trapped in. Or did it come from the one nearby? Everything happened so fast, she can’t remember for sure. And what about the one that attacked her? Which passage had that one come from?

  She’s not sure if either Rip or Gerty saw, but…

  Her gaze drops to the floor and, of course.

  One of the beasts did indeed emerge from the passage directly across from the small chamber they were stuck in for a while. The long swath of claw marks leading to the altar proves this much. Her eyes narrow as she moves to the next passageway, sight slipping over the floor. Nothing from the opening near the claw marks. She steps from one passage to the other, bypassing the closed off one they reentered the chamber from.

  Then she stops at the passageway a few feet away from the small chamber. The marks here are faint, but they’re there. Signs of the beast perhaps stalking, then scratching off as it sprinted at her.

  This leaves two relatively safe passages. Only problem with these, however, all comes back to what Sully taught her about taking the lesser road. Both passageways might be safe, but will they lead them to a way out, or trap them?

  She’s pondering this when Rip says, “My shoulder burns like hell.”

  Alyx hurries over to him as Gerty lifts the gauze bandage. The thing drips with a yellowish liquid. Then Gerty gasps. She shoots a worried look at Alyx, lifting the bandage higher. The big man’s shoulder has doubled in size, swollen, oozing with infection. Dark streaks squiggle down the man’s arm and snake toward his throat.

  Alyx rummages through the first-aid bag, but doesn’t find any form of antibiotics. Not even a salve. Just pain killers.

  Rip takes in the sight of his shoulder and grimaces. “Well, shit. That’s not good.”

  Gerty sighs. “We’ll fix ya up, hun. No worries.”

  Chuckling humorlessly, Rip shakes his head. “Whatever was in that thing’s bite, it’s in me now.” His face stills as his gaze drifts to one of the dead creatures. A gaze full of darkness. “I…I feel it. It’s like a bunch of spiders crawling under my skin.”

  “What?” Alyx frowns. “What are you saying?”

  His eyes, so glossy dark, roll in her direction. “You have to kill me.”

  Gerty shoves him. “Stop being dramatic, asshole. It’s just infected. We’ll get you out of here and—”

  “I’m infected, alright,” Rip says. “It’s spreading. Its’s…” His darkening eyes lower.

  Alyx draws her revolver, points it at the big man. “Okay, Rip. Okay.”

  Gerty kicks the gun out of Alyx’s hand. It clatters on the stone floor.

  “Like, hell,” Gerty says, pushes Alyx back and faces Rip full on. “What do you mean it’s spreading? You weren’t bitten by a fucking zombie.” Her voice trembles and all Alyx can do is look away.

  Rip releases a long breath, inhales shakily, and says, “Maybe its bite is similar. I feel it worming through me, kiddo. I—I can’t even think.”

  “Maybe it’s nothing,” Gerty says. “You’re just overacting.”

  No matter how much Alyx wants to tell her about the time back on Earth when a mutant bear bit one of her assistants and he about died. Only he didn’t die, he turned into kind of werebear. A beast far worse than the thing that created him. She wants to tell Gerty how, if she had killed that man after he’d been bitten eight lives could’ve been saved before she blew his head off.

  She can tell her all of that, but chooses to keep silent. None of it will help the girl either way.

  Still, there might be a chance Rip is mistaken too. What he’s feeling just might be progressive infection. Deadly, but not altering. Besides, if this is true, then why isn’t she feeling anything? She had claws stabbed into her, after all. Unless…unless that’s not how it works here. Maybe what it takes is a real bite.

  But…

  Alyx says, “Let’s keep moving. Rip, I’m going to change your bandage, give you a painkiller, and you’re coming with us.”

  The big man visibly shivers, shakes his head. “No. You don’t…you don’t understand. Something is…inside me.”

  “Nothing but an infection,” Alyx says and Gerty gives her a look she can only assume is perplexed. “You’ll see. Once we get out and get some antibodies in you, everything will be fine.”

  Rip’s red rimmed, darkening eyes blink at her and she knows without a doubt what’s going on.

  “No,” Rip says, upholsters his sidearm and rams the muzzle into his mouth.

  “Rip,” Gerty shouts moving to take the gun away from the man and—

  Crack.

 
; The back of Rip’s head explodes into bits of skull, blood and gray matter. His body jitters for a second or two, then collapses to the floor.

  “No!” Gerty drops to her knees beside the dead man. She yanks the gun from his hand and tosses it aside.

  “Gerty,” Alyx says, but the girl flips her off.

  Sobbing, Gerty touches Rip’s face. “Thank you for everything, old man.” She sniffles, and says, “You’re the dad I should’ve had.”

  Alyx turns to the passageways, worried another creature will attack from the shadows.

  She doesn’t even look as shifting noises and clinks sound behind her.

  Then, at her side, Gerty says, “I’m gonna incinerate him and bring him with us.”

  Alyx nods, not trusting herself to speak.

  A moment later there’s a flash of heat and the stench of charred flesh.

  NINTEEN

  They walk down a passageway Alyx randomly chose. Both women beaten and torn. Broken. Their souls splattered in darkness and sorrow. Two women staring straight ahead awaiting death to come storming out of the shadows and devour them both.

  And yet, the passage leads ever onward. Only silence greets their progress.

  Gerty carries Rip’s pack and his flashgun. As an added form of protection, she also carries his rifle. No matter how much Alyx insisted she carry the rifle, Gerty refused, saying Alyx isn’t a soldier and the rifle is a soldier’s weapon. The girl has this far off gaze Alyx doesn’t much care for, but knows nothing she can say will help. Gerty is grieving. She doesn’t want to let go.

  These things happen.

  So, Alyx lets the girl grieve. She remains quiet, trying to think of a way out of this horrible place.

  She’s not sure how long they’ve been walking when Gerty says, “Sorry. He was just the only dad figure I ever really knew.”

  “No need to apologize,” Alyx says. “I get it. But can I tell you something? Something I learned over the years?”

  “Sure.”

  Alyx stops, places a hand on Gerty’s shoulder. “Use it. Use that rage and pain and turn it into something unstoppable.”

  Gerty grins. “Oh, I plan to.”

  Alyx smiles. “Good. Now, let’s kick some ass and find a way out of here. What do you say?”

  “I say…” Gerty lifts her rifle. “Oorah.”

  Patting the girl’s shoulder, Alyx nods and leads the way deeper into darkness.

  They’re walking for what feels like forever, when a low growl sounds somewhere behind them.

  Gerty stops, spins around. “C’mon, you bastard.”

  Alyx says, “Not here. Let’s see what’s up ahead.”

  “We’ve been walking for a long time and this thing hasn’t even made any turns. It’s never going to end.” Gerty lifts her rifle. “I say we go hunting.”

  Another growl echoes, this time sounding much closer.

  “We do that and we’ll get all mixed up.” Alyx sighs heavily. “Look, I feel your pain. I’ve felt it before. But going on a hunt right now is the worst thing we can do. They’re distracting us. That’s how they wear their prey out. Distractions and disorientation.”

  “You think Rogers, Crowe and Amelia are dead?”

  The question is so random it takes Alyx a moment to grasp it. When she does, she says, “I don’t know.” It’s the truth.

  Now the growling is so close, the creature might as well be on top of them.

  “It’s too late to run,” Gerty says. “Better draw that primitive sidearm of yours. It’s almost here.”

  Alyx pulls out her revolver, glances behind them, then back in the direction of the growling. “Aim for the head.”

  “It’s dead right now,” the girl whispers. “It just doesn’t know it yet.”

  The growling stops, leaving a long void of eerie silence.

  Alyx’s heart thuds heavily against the walls of her chest as she squints at the darkness her shoulder lights can’t quite touch.

  Stealthy scratching noises above her. Flakes of stone drift in front of her.

  Her eyes widen. “It’s above us.”

  Gerty sucks in a sharp breath, then says, “On the count of two, shoot it.” She waits a second, then counts, “One. Two. Now!”

  Alyx steps backward, pointing her gun at the ceiling as Gerty opens fire. The beast squeals as bullets pummel into its body. Black blood splashes the walls, pours onto the floor as it jitters back and forth.

  Alyx aims at its vulpine head, squeezes the trigger. The left side of its head bursts into a mess of bone and black goo.

  “Move,” Alyx shouts as the creature’s claws unlock from the ceiling.

  Gerty stumbles backward just in time to avoid being crushed by the beast. Its pale body thuds to the floor. Black blood splatters everywhere, even finding Alyx’s pants.

  Pumping a few more shots into the beast, Gerty roars.

  Once the girl is finished, Alyx says, “Let’s go.”

  They hurry on down the passageway without a word, picking up their pace until both women are jogging. The urge to get out of this place grows stronger with very step.

  Alyx is about to call for a break when the passage ends at a four-way intersection. She opens her mouth to tell Gerty to go left when a woman crashes into her from the darkness to the right. Both go down, but the other woman scrambles to her feet.

  “Get out,” the woman says, pacing and scratching her head at the intersection.

  Alyx frowns. “Crowe?”

  The woman Marine paces, not saying anything. Her hair is in disarray. Blood, human blood cakes her gaping face. Her eyes dart without really seeing anything. A coppery stench wavers off her.

  “Getoutgetoutgetout,” Crowe whispers.

  “Jesus,” Gerty says. “What’s wrong with her?”

  But Alyx can guess. Rogers and Amelia are dead. The blood covering Crowe is evidence enough. She stands and grabs Crowe by the shoulders.

  “Hey, look at me.”

  Crowe does everything but look at Alyx.

  Alyx slaps the woman. Hard. Right across the face. And still, Crowe doesn’t acknowledge her. The woman has fallen completely off the nutwagon.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Gerty asks again.

  “She’s losing her mind,” Alyx says. “Too much trauma.”

  “Shit, she was crazy before now anyway.”

  Alyx tries to ignore this, but can’t help believing it. Crowe had been an ass to her, but crazy? Maybe, but probably not. Well, not as far gone as Gerty thinks.

  Crowe was going through a power struggle earlier, sure, but she wasn’t exactly crazy.

  Alyx leads Crowe toward one of the passages and presses her against a wall. “Crowe. Where’s Rogers?”

  The woman shakes her head, dark hair flying in every direction. She struggles against Alyx’s hold. She smells like sweat, dirt, and something like onions. But there’s something else slithering just under all of these odors. Something sour. The stench of fear, perhaps. God knows Alyx has smelled it before and probably had the same stench about her too over the years.

  “Crowe, hun,” she says. “I need you to be strong now.” She positions the woman’s head so Crowe is staring directly at her. “Can you do that for me? Can you be strong?”

  The poor woman blinks, then, after a moment nods. Her gaze never leaves Alyx. “Dead. Rogers. A-Amelia. It got them.”

  Nodding, Alyx gently squeezes the woman’s shoulders. “Let’s get out of here, what do you say?”

  Crowe’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. Finally, she says, “Amelia…she’s different now. Not her. She’s…”

  Alyx cocks her head. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s bad now. Tainted. It bit her. She’s…oh god, we need to get out!”

  Alyx sighs. “Yes. Let’s go.”

  Crowe shivers, nods and says, “Okay. I’m okay. Sorry. Just…I’m okay.”

  Gerty says, “You said Amelia was bit? What happened?”

  Crowe spins on the
girl, smacks the gun away and slams Gerty up against the wall, hand on her throat. “She fucking turned. What the hell do you think happened? She’s something else now. She’s a monster.”

  Alyx shoves Crowe away from Gerty. “Knock it off.” Her focus is fully on Crowe. “If we’re going to make it out of here alive I need you to—”

  A shrill howl echoes up one of the passages. Alyx isn’t sure which one. Crowe sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth, as if being slapped. She fights against Alyx, winning and goes sprinting down one of the passages.

  “Shit,” Gerty says. “What the hell do we do now? I say we let her go. She’s gone nuttybars.”

  “Don’t the Marines train you not to leave anyone behind?”

  Gerty slips Alyx a snarl. “Yes. Damn it.” She glares into the passage Crowe ran into. “Let’s get her.”

  And even though Alyx wants nothing more than to figure a way out of this place, she leads the way in finding the terrified Marine.

  Another shrill howl echoes.

  “I don’t even know where it’s coming from,” Gerty says.

  “It’s close,” Alyx says, changing her pace to a jog. “That’s all we need to know.”

  Eventually, they find Crowe curled up against a wall sobbing. When Alyx tries to get her to her feet, the woman screams and thrashes. It’s the first time Alyx notices the woman doesn’t have a gun. Not even her sidearm.

  She’s defenseless.

  “Come on,” Alyx says, trying to get Crowe to her feet. “We need to move.”

  But the woman shrieks, curls up and refuses to move.

  Alyx glances at Gerty. The girl lowers her head.

  Alyx kneels in front of Crowe. “If you don’t stand up and move right now, you’ll be stuck down here alone with those things without a weapon. You’ll die and destroy everything Rogers and Amelia died for. They died for the sake of humanity. What honor will you receive by just sitting here?”

  But Crowe cowers, curls more into herself and refuses to move.

  “There’s no use,” Gerty says. “We can’t—”

  The howl rises behind them a few seconds before something slams into Gerty, knocking her off her feet. She goes down with a heavy thump, manages a gasp, then it’s on top of her. Most of its face is split open and what was once human is no longer. Skin hangs in ragged flaps as a lizard-like snout snaps from where a face should’ve been. What’s left of the hair dangles in greasy strings. And judging by its length, Alyx can assume this is Amelia. Or used to be.