Waiting to Die (Book 2): Wasting Away

As we neared the warehouse, several bodies shambled out from the side. I drew the pistol and pushed Mary behind me.

  “Get the door open,” I said as I stared down the dead.

  I could hear her fumbling with the door as I fired the first shot. A few yards away, a body fell out onto the parched dirt. Its arms spread as it hit. A thick gel of blood gurgled up from the hole behind its ear. I fired again as a corpse neared the loading bay of the warehouse. Its face was nothing more than a tangle of loose skin, hanging slack as it opened its maw and released a faint hiss.

  There was a cold hand against my wrist, fingers digging into the skin. I brought the pistol up and fired. A wet spray hit my neck. Mary hit the metal door with a loud clank as the body let go of my arm and fell against her back.

  “Hurry!” I yelled.

  “The pin’s stuck,” she said with a grunt.

  I turned and grabbed for the clasp, wedging the grip of the pistol under the pin. I hit the bottom of the weapon with the palm of my hand and the pin came free.

  Something knocked me hard against Mary and she wheezed as my weight knocked the breath out of her. I felt pain shoot along my shoulder. I heard a pop before my skin tore, a subtle rip as a swatch of fabric from my jacket went with it. I only caught a glance of the creature as it cocked its head, a scrap of flesh dangling from its mouth.

  I put pressure on the wound with my left hand and turned.

  Its eyes were glaring as if it knew what it had done.

  “You motherfucker!” I shouted, raising the gun. The barrel touched the tip of its nose and I fired. Its head jerked back and it crumbled to the ground.

  “Come on!” Mary yelled, pulling me inside the warehouse behind her.

  Inside, she pushed me out of the way and slammed the door as a shadow of bodies grouped around the opening. She pulled a bar across the doorframe and slid it into the clasps at either side. I stumbled back into a stack of boxes and my legs went weak. I slid to the floor, trying to blink away the haze that was filtering away my vision.

  I could see Mary’s face between flashes of white. Her eyes were so sweet, but the worry that washed across her expression terrified me.

  “It was trying to get you,” I said. My voice seemed far away as I spoke. “I put myself in the way.”

  “It’s okay now. Just breathe,” she said, holding my face. “Everything’s fine. You’re going to be all right. You’re going to be okay. Breathe …”

  I woke up on a cot, feeling along the edges of rough canvas. It was dark, but I could see everything in a faint haze. Huge overhead lights glared down at me, giant canisters fastened above the bulbs. I wondered why Mary hadn’t turned them on.

  There was a painful throbbing in my shoulder and I glanced over to find a bandage, saturated in blood.

  This is it, I thought. This is how it ends. So long among them and one little mistake takes it all away.

  Mary was shuffling through boxes on the other side of the room. She had determination in her eyes and I watched her there for some time, breathing in her image.

  She glanced over at me. “You’re awake,” she said, walking toward me.

  I nodded my head slowly and blinked away the blur from my eyes. “What are you doing?” I asked in a whisper.

  She shook her head and glanced back at the boxes. “I’m looking through some files, trying to find out how we can get into the bunkers,” she said.

  I breathed a sigh and a rattle caught in my throat. “Mary, you have to get yourself out of here. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I told you we’re doing this together or not at all,” she said, squinting.

  I shook my head. “Look at me, Mary.”

  She wore a stern expression. “I can see you just fine,” she said. “And I’m getting you out of here.”

  “Damn it,” I coughed, “stop being so stubborn.”

  She knelt down beside me and placed her hand on my arm. “I don’t want to go on without you.”

  I nursed a smile from the corner of my mouth and felt pain shoot down along my arm. I winced. “I never got to say it before, but I love you.” I tried to look her in the eyes, but my vision wavered.

  “I love you too,” she said, coughing back a tear.

  “I love you and I want you to live,” I stammered.

  She nodded and lowered her head.

  “I had the strangest dream,” she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She sat up next to me. “We were on a hillside, looking down at a valley below. The dead were everywhere. For miles, bodies covered the land. Some had already fallen, their bones picked clean by birds.”

  “What were we doing on the hill?” I asked as she wiped my head with a cold rag.

  “We were just watching the animals have their way with the dead.”

  I tried to smile.

  “Why is everything so dark?” I asked.

  “We’re still in the warehouse,” she said, brushing my cheek. “The dead are attracted to the lights so I leave them off.”

  Her hand felt so warm against my skin that it made me smile and think of soft blankets.

  “We’re safe?” I wheezed.

  She looked like she was going to cry. “Yeah, we’re safe. They can’t get us here.”

  “Good,” I breathed.

  “What’s that sound?” My throat was dry and the words came quietly.

  “The dead,” Mary replied. “They’re still out there.”

  “Aim at their eyes,” I replied.

  “Just sleep …”

  “I’m sorry, Mary.”

  She leaned over me and placed her hand on my forehead. “Sorry for what?” she asked, her voice laced in honey.

  “I promised I would never leave you,” I replied with a cough. I could feel my lungs rattle in my chest. “And I don’t know if I can stay here anymore.”

  She put her hand over her mouth and turned away.

  “Mary!” I screamed. “Mary, where are you?” My question was lost in a roar of screaming moans and rasping shouts.

  I saw a flash of white.

  My breath wouldn’t come. I opened my mouth wide, but there wasn’t any air on the other side.

  I could hear the shots in the distance.

  Mary screamed.

  The door was opened wide. Sunlight poured through and it blinded me.

  I heard a voice calling out to me.

  I can’t remember my name …

  Epilogue

  Mary threw open the door and let the light flood the inside of the warehouse. There were men firing at the dead across the compound. Bodies collapsed, thick blood marked the grass in the pools beneath them.

  She waved her hands in the air and one of the men spotted her. He held up his hand and the others stopped shooting.

  She couldn’t believe how quiet it was when they lowered their rifles.

  Several trucks were parked along the outer gate to the base as men came across the field toward her.

  “She’s alive,” one of the men said, holding his hand in the air.

  From one of the outbuildings, another man came into view. He wore a thick moustache and a few days worth of stubble across the rest of his face. “Are there any others?” he asked.

  Mary shook her head. “No,” she replied, diverting her gaze.

  “You’re all alone here?”

  Mary nodded her head.

  Mary sat at a table, a glass of water at her side, clear and crisp. She looked at the man and ran her finger along the edge of the glass, remembering.

  “It’s not just his story,” she said. “I told it from his point of view because I loved who he was. That’s just how I want to remember him.”

  “So you’ve been alone here ever since?” Mitch asked.

  Mary nodded her head and lowered her gaze to her hands, folded in her lap. “I replayed what he said so many times that I’ve memorized it. I remember every word. He thought he was a coward, he thought that he wasn’t good enough, but he was really someone that I’ve come to admire.” />
  “He sounded like a good man,” Mitch replied.

  She managed a knowing grin. “He was so much more than that. I loved him. He was my friend. And in the end, he was everything that heroes aspire to be.”

  “Mitch,” Ed said from the doorway, getting the man’s attention.

  “You’ll have to excuse me for a minute.” Mitch smiled at Mary and stood, pushing the chair back with a dry scrape.

  She nodded and placed her hand on top of the table, gazing off at the far side of the room.

  “We haven’t found anyone that fits the description that she gave us. The warehouse was empty,” Ed whispered, glancing over Mitch’s shoulder at the woman.

  “Okay,” he said with a quick nod. “How about the dead, have you cleared the base?”

  “Yeah, most of them are down. We still have to go through the north end, but it should be clear by nightfall,” he replied. “So what about the man she described?”

  “Keep looking.”

  “You got it,” Ed replied, turning toward the door. “Is she going to be okay?”

  Mitch looked back through the room at the woman sitting at the table. Her hair was an early morning mess of tangles, outlining her face in wisps of frizz. She knotted her hands on the tabletop and stared across the room. “She’ll be fine,” he replied. “She’s been through a lot.”