Days 54 to 61 (Mass Extinction Event 12)

by Amy Cross

  “I don't want to know your name,” Natalie stammers. “Why don't you just take whatever it is that you want and then leave?”

  “Take what I want?” he asks, with a faint smile. He takes a few paces toward her. “What do you think I want?”

  “I have no idea,” she replies.

  “Think hard.”

  “I don't know.” Shaking her head, she seems absolutely terrified.

  “I want my life back,” he continues, stepping closer to her. “Do you know what I used to be, before all of this happened?”

  “What were you?” I ask.

  “Take a good look at me,” he replies. “Go on, guess.”

  “You were a... cop?”

  He smiles.

  “You're, what, thirty, thirty-five?” I ask.

  “Good guess.”

  “You look like you work out.”

  “Go on.”

  “Those clothes...” I pause for a moment, taking a look at the tattered and dirty shirt that looks like it was expensive once. “Those are good clothes,” I continue. “You went to work in an office.”

  He stares at me. “You're good,” he says finally. “What kind of office?”

  “Your office,” I reply. “You had your own office. You were a...” I pause again, trying to come up with a good guess. After all, I figure if I make a connection with him, I might be able to get him to let us go. “You were an investor? Something to do with stocks and shares?”

  “I was a fucking...” He pauses, as if he's not sure whether to tell us. “Lawyer, actually. I was an entertainment lawyer.”

  “Seriously?” Natalie replies.

  “I was rich, I was successful, and life was pretty damn good.” He pauses again. “I liked my life a lot, and now look at me. I've spent the past two weeks scrambling around in the dirt out there, outside those fences you put up, digging for food in the dirt. I begged to be let inside, I told your people that I can be useful, but no... You won't even throw scraps out for the rest of us. You've cordoned off this city, taken it like it's your own private property, and the rest of us are just supposed to starve out there.”

  “You could go somewhere else,” Natalie suggests.

  “Fuck you,” he sneers.

  “But you could,” she continues. “You could go and start your own city somewhere else.”

  “Start my own city?” He stares at her for a moment, as if he can barely believe what he's hearing. “This is my city,” he adds finally. “I've lived in Boston my whole life, and suddenly there's a fence keeping me out!”

  “Everything changed,” Natalie replies. “There's a-”

  Before she can finish, he slams the handle of the gun into the side of her face, knocking her down onto the bed, before turning to me. As Natalie sobs, the guy seems poised to strike me, but I somehow find the strength to keep looking at him instead of trying to hide.

  “You people are disgusting,” he continues finally, turning and heading to the window. “Really fucking disgusting.”

  Leaning over toward Natalie, I see that she has her hands over her face, and blood is tricking onto her wrists.

  “Let me see,” I tell her, trying to pull her hands away. “Natalie, just let me take a look.”

  She slowly moves her hands away, to reveal a thick cut just above her right eyebrow.

  “That looks deep,” I whisper. “Come on, sit up.”

  With tears running down her face, she cautiously sits up, but she seems to be in shock. Taking a pillow from the top of the bed, I remove the case and use it to wipe some of the blood away, but the cut seems very deep and I'm starting to worry that she might be seriously hurt.

  “Painful?” I ask.

  “Not really,” she replies quietly.

  “Don't whisper,” the guy snaps from the window. “I want to hear everything you say.”

  “We should get something on this,” I tell Natalie, while making sure to speak loud enough for the guy to hear.

  “I just want to get out of here,” she replies, her voice trembling as more tears run down her face.

  “Me too.”

  I continue to dab at her cut, which is bleeding more heavily now.

  “Edward,” the guy says suddenly.

  I turn to him.

  “Edward,” he says again. “You wanted to know my name.” Reaching into his pocket, he takes out a small rectangular piece of card and tosses it onto the bed. “There. Have my fucking business card.”

  Reaching out, I take the card and see his full name: Edward R. Pitt. For a moment, I feel as if the old, normal world is colliding with the madness all around us.

  “I got two thousand of those things printed up,” he explains. “I borrowed money from my brother and ordered them online, and they arrived on the first day when all this stuff happened. I was still taking them out of the box when the lights went out, and my first thought was that I was pissed off because I wouldn't be able to tweet about them. Seriously, that was the kind of thing I worried about back then. Funny, huh? At the time, I thought they'd help me get new clients. Now they literally aren't worth anything. They don't even burn very well.”

  “Let me see,” Natalie says, snatching the card from my hand. “It's -”

  “Hey!” he shouts, rushing over and grabbing the card before pushing her back down onto the bed. “This is the last one I've got left!” He tries to rub her bloodied fingerprint off the card. “You've ruined it!”

  “Sorry,” she stammers, with fresh blood running from the wound on her forehead.

  “Fucking idiot,” he mutters, stuffing the card back into his pocket. “What's wrong? Have you got no fucking respect for other people's property?”

  “My name's Elizabeth,” I tell him, hoping to distract him from hurting her again. “Elizabeth Marter.”

  “So?” He turns to me. “Why would I give a fuck about your name?”

  “I just... You told us yours, so it just seemed fair. I'm Elizabeth, and this is Natalie.”

  He stares at me for a moment.

  “So what do you want?” I continue, figuring that I need to keep him talking. “Everyone wants something, don't they? Maybe we can help you.”

  “Why would you help me?”

  “So you'll let us go. That's how it works.”

  He smiles. “Why the fuck would I let you go?”

  “You can't stay here,” I tell him. “Charles'll come back, and he's not going to let me just sit around in my room forever. People are going to notice that Natalie's missing, too. The longer we sit here, the bigger the risk that everything tumbles out of control. Maybe if we talk to someone, they'll understand that it'd be better if you're allowed to stay in the city. I mean, it seems like you're fit and healthy, and smart, so you can contribute. They're just worried about people who won't pull their weight, that's all!”

  He shakes his head.

  “My father's one of the people in charge,” I continue. “Natalie's is too, we can -”

  “Don't tell him that!” Natalie blurts out, grabbing my arm.

  Edward stares at us for a moment, and then finally a faint smile starts to spread across his face.

  “She was lying,” Natalie continues. “She just wanted to trick you.”

  “Bullshit,” he replies. “You two really have important parents, huh?” Pausing for a few seconds, he seems lost in thought, as if he's coming up with a plan. “That makes things much more interesting.”

  “We can help you,” I point out, even though I'm starting to realize that Natalie was right: I should never have let this guy realize that we can be useful to him. Still, I've made the mistake now, so I have to live with it and find another approach. “My father listens to me,” I continue. “He really does, and he's not some kind of monster, he's a reasonable man. He has the power to make decisions and if I explain everything to him properly, he'll understand.”

  “Like hell he will,” Natalie mutters.

  I cast a scowl at her.

  “I don't need your charity
,” Edward says firmly, “and I sure as hell don't want to get done on my knees and beg some asshole to let me stay in my own goddamn city. He should be the one begging me.” He pauses for a moment, still looking out the window. “I want everyone to come in,” he adds after a moment. “There are hundreds of people out there, on the other side of that wall, and they're starving. Women, children, men... Every single one of them deserves to be brought into the city.”

  “He won't agree to that,” I reply.

  “He doesn't have to. It's happening anyway.”

  Looking over at Natalie, I can see the concern in her eyes.

  “They don't know I'm here yet,” Edward continues. “They think I ran when they killed the others. I can use that. I can hit them from the inside.” He turns to me. “How many people are there?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How many people are in the city right now? And don't act dumb. It doesn't suit you, and it doesn't convince me for a second.”

  “Eighty-one,” I tell him.

  “What are you doing?” Natalie hisses. “You can't help him!”

  “I'm not helping him,” I reply, “I'm making him see that this is hopeless! He can't possibly hope to get away with what he's doing!”

  “Can't I?” Edward asks.

  “It's insane,” I continue, turning back to him. “Whatever plan you've got, it won't work.”

  “You'd better hope it does,” he replies, “because if it doesn't, and if I end up cornered or with soldiers coming for me, I'm going to make damn sure that you two bitches come with me to hell.”

  “Listen,” I tell him, “we -”

  “Off the bed.”

  “If -”

  “Get off the bed!” he shouts, aiming the gun at me. “Both of you! Stand up, now!”

  We both obey, and as he heads over to the door I can't help but glance at Natalie. The wound above her eyebrow isn't bleeding so much now, but from the way she's staring at Edward, I can tell that she's planning something.

  “What is it?” I whisper.

  Waiting for an answer, I realize after a moment that she's ignoring me.

  “Okay,” Edward says, turning to us. “Over here. I want one of you to get out there and make sure there's no-one around.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Because we're getting the fuck out of here, that's why.”

  “Let me take you to my father,” I continue. “Please, he can help you!”

  “There'd be a bullet in my head before I could even open my mouth.”

  “No, he would never have you -”

  “Get out there,” he says, standing back from the door and keeping the gun fixed on me. “Make sure there's no-one in the corridor.”

  Realizing that there's no way I can argue with him, I head to the door, with Natalie just a few paces behind.

  “Where are we going once we get out of here?” I ask.

  “Just check the coast is clear.”

  With a trembling hand, I reach out to unlock the door.

  “Fuck you!” Natalie shouts suddenly. Turning, I see that she's launched herself at Edward and has started bashing her fists against his face, but he quickly twists her around and slams her against the opposite wall. Pressing the barrel of the gun against the back of her head, he places a finger on the trigger.

  “No!” I hiss.

  “Stay out of this,” he says firmly, with blood running from a cut on his lip.

  “Please,” Natalie whimpers, sobbing as he continues to press her against the wall. “Please...”

  “Everyone'll hear if you fire that thing,” I tell Edward. “There aren't that many people in the building, but they'll hear a gunshot and they'll come running. If you shoot her, this is all over.”

  I wait, but he still has his finger on the trigger, as if he hasn't made up his mind.

  “If you really think there's nothing left for you,” I continue, “then you might as well kill us both right now. But if you really want to help yourself or to help the people on the other side of the barrier, you should probably think again before you let everyone know that you're here.”

  He stares at the back of Natalie's head for a moment, before letting go of her neck and taking a step back.

  “There's still a chance,” I tell him. “You have to -”

  “Open the door,” he says firmly, aiming the gun at me. “If either of you tries anything again, it's over.”

  Turning the handle, I pull the door open and look out into the corridor. There's no sign of anyone so far, so I step out and listen for a moment, but all I can hear is the sound of Natalie sobbing nearby.

  “There's a stairwell,” Edward says after a moment. “It goes down to the foyer, but there are two exits. If we take the one at the back, where do we come out?”

  “In an alley, I think,” I tell him. “I'm not certain.”

  “Well let's hope you're right,” he replies, grabbing Natalie's collar and shoving her out to join me in the corridor. “Remember. If either of you does anything to piss me off, I'll shoot you both and then when help comes running, I'll take as many of them down as I can.”

  “We're not going to do anything,” I reply, before turning to Natalie. “We're not, are we?”

  “Go fuck yourself,” she whispers, with tears running down her cheeks.

  “We'll get out of this,” I tell her. “We're not -”

  “Move!” Edward says firmly.

  Taking Natalie's hand, I lead her along the corridor. She pulls away after a moment, but she keeps pace with me and by the time we reach the door at the far end and head through into the stairwell I can tell that she's managing to calm down just a little. There's a hint of steel in her eyes, as if no matter what happens to her, she's always able to bounce back, but I'm worried that she might try to attack Edward again.

  “Don't do it,” I whisper.

  “Go to hell.”

  “Stop talking!” Edward says firmly. “Get down the stairs!”

  “So where are you taking us?” I ask, as Natalie and I lead him down toward the lower floors of the building. “Can't you at least tell us that? We might be able to help!”

  “Why would you want to help him?” Natalie sneers. “What are you, on his side now?”

  “We're all on the same side,” I remind her. “We all want to get out of this thing alive.”

  “Don't worry about my plan,” Edward continues. “I know my way around this city.”

  “I don't,” I tell him. “I'd never been to Boston before the other day.”

  “And yet here you are,” he replies, “sitting pretty the safe zone while the rest of us are scavenging on the sidelines. Doesn't seem fair, does it?”

  “I -” I start to say, before realizing that he's right: it's not fair.

  “Okay, stop,” he tells us as we reach the door at the bottom of the stairwell. “Elizabeth, I want you to take a look and make sure there's no-one between that door and the one that leads to the rear of the building. If there is someone, get rid of them or this whole situation'll get very messy, very fast.”

  “How do I get rid of them?” I ask.

  “Use your brain,” he continues. “Think of something.”

  “I'll do it,” Natalie says suddenly.

  “No,” I reply, “I can -”

  “I'm better at thinking on my feet,” Natalie continues, stepping past me and heading to the door. “If we really have to do this, we might as well do it properly.”

  “Don't try anything,” Edward tells her. “Remember, if -”

  “Yeah, sure,” she says, glancing back at him. “You don't have to keep threatening us, once is enough.” She pauses for a moment. “We all have the information we need so we can make a decision. It's not like you've got anything new to add, other than maybe cracking that gun around our heads again. Are you gonna do that, or do you want me to go out there and get rid of our unwanted visitor?”

  “Get it over with,” he replies, with the gun aimed at her head. “You'r
e not as smart as you think you are, so -” Suddenly he swings the gun toward me. “Be careful.”

  “Please,” she says with a faint smile, “I don't even like Elizabeth. Threatening her isn't going to work on me.” Opening the door, she steps out into the foyer and looks around.

  “Hey,” a female voice says suddenly, and I realize that Alison is out there somewhere. “Have you seen Elizabeth?”

  “Elizabeth?” Natalie pauses, and for a moment I'm convinced she's going to run and leave me to die. “No, I haven't seen her all morning. I'd like it to stay that way, too. Do you have any idea how annoying she can be? Seriously, she's the most irritating bitch I've ever met in my life. All that whining, all that holier-than-thou sermonizing, she just gets on my nerves the whole time.”

  “She's very convincing,” Edward whispers to me, with the gun still aimed at my face.

  “I think I'll go up and check her room,” Alison says after a moment. “Charles spoke to her earlier, but he said she seemed a little off. It's way past breakfast, though, and no-one's supposed to stay in bed so long.”

  “Oh, she's not in her room,” Natalie replies quickly. “She's over at the old grocery store, looking for books.”

  “I thought you said you hadn't seen her?”

  “I haven't seen her, but I know that's where she is. I spoke to Annie and she said she met her there.”

  “Oh.” There's a pause, as if Alison isn't quite convinced. “Well, then I guess I'd better go and look for her,” she says finally. “Her father's asking after her, I think he wants to talk to her about something.”

  “Then the grocery store is where you need to go,” Natalie replies. “She's there, I guarantee it. Probably scooping up every book she can find so she can start some kind of sanctimonious little library. That's just the kind of project she'd try. You know what she's like, going on and on, boring the pants off everyone.”

  “Thanks,” I whisper.

  “I might give her a hand,” Alison replies. “Are you sure you don't want to come and help?”

  “Deadly sure,” Natalie replies. “Trust me, I've got better things to be doing.”

  A moment later, I hear Alison's footsteps heading away, until finally Natalie turns to look back through at us.