I never miss!
The blade slams into the side of the filling cabinet and the handle breaks off in my hand. The greyskin is on top of me now and it’s all I can do to roll away as it grabs onto my foot. I pull the pistol from my belt, knowing that if I don’t I’ll be dead, even though the noise will bring every greyskin in the hospital to me. I let off a single shot into the nurses’ (greyskin’s) head and it slumps to the floor. I can still hear the ringing in my ears a moment later as I drag myself into the hallway. On my belly, gun in hand, I look both ways—once toward the door and then toward the rest of the maternity ward. I can’t help but freeze when I see what comes out of the room beyond. Doctors…nurses…patients. My stomach wrenches when I see a greyskin walking out in a large gown, her stomach protruding.
I pull myself up to my feet and charge out through the doors but I stop in my tracks when at least eight greyskins make their way toward me, walking as though they have all the time in the world. But I don’t. Either I go the familiar way I came and face more greyskins, or I go back through the maternity ward and hope I don’t run into more than three. I shake my head. It’s always better to know where you’re going.
With the machete broken and gone, I walk forward and lift my pistol in front of me, taking careful aim at the first greyskin’s head. It drops to the floor. The others start to come at me a little more quickly. I’ve got to be fast. I let off three more rounds, three more greyskins fall.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Three more fall on top of the pile. The shots make the ringing in my ears worse and I know its only a matter of seconds before more come out to investigate. I shoot the next two, but hit the last one at the neck. No good. I pull the trigger but this time there is only the sound of an empty magazine. I curse and let the magazine drop as I reach into the side pocket of the backpack. The doors behind me crash open and the greyskin in front of me is getting closer. My fingers fumble with the loaded magazine and I almost drop it. I jam it up into the gun and pull back on the chamber. I fire at the greyskin in front of me, hitting it in the chest. Another shot finds its mark right in the forehead.
The greyskins behind me are moving fast. I jump over the pile of bodies and sprint to the stairwell. I take the steps four at a time, knowing that it’s never a good idea to be so careless. I could run into a greyskin, sprain an ankle…either one could be the end of me. I finally make it to the first floor and I can feel my heart beating quickly, my escape now within reach.
I open the door, rush into the hallway, and I instantly wish that I didn’t. I have no idea how many greyskins I see to my left rushing toward me. There have to be at least twenty or thirty, and there are even more blocking my exit. I run back through the door onto the stairwell and slam the door shut. I immediately feel the push of greyskins against it. I can see the rotting faces of them through the narrow window in the middle. Their black eyes are lifeless, but their teeth are black, yellow, and sharp. Their hands beat against the door and I know that soon I won’t be able to hold them back.
A hand breaks through the window, not flinching from the glass that slices its skin with drooling black blood. With my shoulder pressed firmly against the door, I pull up the pistol and begin firing through the opening. I feel some relief from the pushing for a few seconds, but it has bought me little time and there is no chance I will be able to hold the door for much longer. As I lean against the door and survey the stairwell in front of me, I try to think of where I could go, another exit I could take out of here.
Another thump against the door and the shoving begins again. I sit my butt on the ground and try to stay as firm as a rock, but my weight won’t be enough to hold it closed for very long. I’m too distracted to listen to my surroundings, but the crashing door up above me is loud enough for anyone to hear. The sound of hurried footsteps and hungry groans echo off the walls as the greyskins begin their descent down the stairs toward me.
This is it, I think. I took a chance and I lost. I’m fulfilling my death sentence from Crestwood.
My pistol is empty so I swing my rifle in front of me and hold it as steady as I can with my back shoved against the door. As I try to listen, I think I can hear five or more coming for me, but does it matter? I’ll waste my bullets on these and then I will be empty-handed. With no weapon, I have no defense, and every greyskin in the building senses my presence. I hold a firm grip on the rifle and fire a shot at the first greyskin I see. It falls to the bottom of the steps only a foot in front of me, but it is followed by six more.
I take a deep breath as a tear slides down the side of my cheek—the first time I’ve cried since…
I fire all but one of my bullets into the six and they all crumple to the floor. More will come down or up the stairs, it won’t matter. Anywhere I try to go, I will only find more greyskins, and one bullet means I might as well have nothing. The pushing against the door is getting heavier. I can’t imagine the death they will give me. I can’t think of what it feels like to have their teeth and nails sink into my skin, ripping away muscles and crunching on my bones.
I look down at my rifle, knowing that a single bullet remains. I know it will only take a slight movement. I won’t feel any pain. Sure, the greyskins will have my body, but I won’t know it. I won’t turn into one of them. I no longer have a giant pit in my stomach consuming me. Now, I feel a wave of relief, knowing that I don’t have to be one of them, that I don’t have to feel fear anymore.
The final bullet will take me away from here. Here is hell on earth. Here is pain and suffering.
Anywhere but here.
I turn the gun around and hold the barrel, the end resting under my chin. It feels hot, but I don’t have time to worry about such a trivial problem. I rest the stock on the floor and extend my arm so my thumb can slide over the trigger.
Another tear streaks down the side of my face as a hold the door closed, my thumb beginning to press down.
Anywhere but here. This life is too much anyway. This world is hopeless. My last bullet… It can take me anywhere but here.
The door swings in a few inches and the rifle falls to the floor. I’m forced to use my hands and feet to push as hard as I can.
I just need a second!
I hold myself against the door as I reach down and pull up the rifle again. The barrel is cooler this time when the skin under my jaw presses against the metal. My thumb finds the trigger again.
Can I do this to myself? I didn’t come here ready to die.
I close my eyes to embrace the bullet. Anywhere but here.
Boom!
The shot is deafening, but I feel no heat, no pain, just as I expected. However, I am still very conscious. How?
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The door becomes still as the greyskins stop pushing against it. My eyes travel to the trigger and I realize that I haven’t even attempted to pull it. I set the gun on the ground and sit on my knees, staring through the broken glass in the door. There are at least five men, raiders probably. No doubt they heard my shots and came running in here to see what I’ve looted.
They will be sorely disappointed.
My heart is pounding as I watch them take out the entire first floor of greyskins with such grace as though they did this every day. I suddenly realize that they are going to find me, so I might as well let them know I am here without them mistaking me as a greyskin.
“Help!” I yell out. I raise my hands in the air. I can hear the footsteps of greyskins both coming up and down the stairs. “Help!” I yell out again.
The door in front of me swings open and two men burst through. “Get on the floor!” the first one yells. I lie flat and press my cheek against the cold floor as more shots ring out and they blow the heads off the greyskins coming up and down the stairs.
I was about to kill myself. I wonder if I should have done it anyway. I don’t know who these men are. Would it have been better to kill myself than to be raped and then killed by these strangers? I took a chance, and now I’m going to have to live w
ith the consequences. I just hope I don’t live to regret my decision.
The two men pull me up by my coat and force me into the hallway. The bodies of greyskins lie everywhere and I quickly remember what it used to be like to travel with a group. In a group, I could have gotten to the medical records more easily.
They pull me to the front of the hospital until they set me on my knees just in front of the sliding doors. I count all the people around me. There are five men and two women. One of the men stands at the center. He only carries a pistol in a holster on his belt. He has a thick, black beard and olive skin. His brown eyes stare into me like he’s never come across another person before.
“What’s your name?” he asks me as one of his men takes off my backpack and begins to rummage through it. Another gives the leader my rifle and pistol.
“None of your business.”
“What are you doing here?” the leader asks.
“Looking for supplies.”
The leader looks at his man that’s searching my backpack and the man hands it to him.
“Beans,” the leader says, fumbling through the bag, “pocket knife, fish…” He pulls out Jessi’s medical file. “These aren’t really the supplies I thought one would go into a hospital to find.”
“I’m looking for someone,” I say this time.
“New story, eh?”
“Why do you care?” I can feel my cheeks beginning to turn red. “Just do what you want with me and let me go.”
The leader shakes his head and motions for one of his men to grab me. “I don’t think so,” he says. “We’re going to take you in, question you.”
“What, are you pretending to be cops?”
“I do police this territory, yes,” the leader says. He thumbs through the file. “I don’t know you so I’m taking you in.”
My stomach sinks at his words. This could mean a lot of things. Long hours of questioning. Maybe there won’t be questions at all and they will do nothing but have their way with me until I’m withered away—this being the more likely scenario.
I should have pulled the trigger. I should have ended it myself. I wish I was anywhere but here.
The leader looks at the man who’s got a hold of me and nods. I’m about to say something when I feel a sharp pain in the back of my head and all I see is black.
Chapter 18 - Remi
I’m not surprised when I wake up in a dark room with my hands tied to the back of my chair. My coat, backpack, and guns are all gone, of course. I’ve been stripped to just my t-shirt and jeans and they even took my shoes and socks. My bare feet feel so cold against the concrete floor.
My head is screaming with pain and I’m sure there’s a giant lump under my hair. I’m almost glad there isn’t a bright light in here since I know it would just add to my headache. There is, however, a faint light shining around the cracks of the door on the other side of the room. Occasionally I will see the shadows of someone moving past the door, but no more than that.
I didn’t see anything on my way here. All I remember was being hit in the head and then waking up here. I have no sense of the layout of whatever building I might be in, so using my special hearing ability is difficult. I’m not sure where the bearded leader might be, so finding him will be next to impossible. Instead, I try to find any nearby conversations.
I close my eyes and listen as intently as possible. I’m pretty sure that beyond the door is a hallway, so I project my hearing through the door and I turn left. I hear a conversation.
How long do you think the rain will continue?
I don’t know, you idiot, it’s not like we have weathermen anymore.
I move forward and pause after a few feet. I hear a door open at the other end of the hall, so I know there is something ahead. I move forward and push through the next door. I can hear the sound of the wind, so I know I’m outside now. I can hear voices to my right, so I try to move there.
You’re it!
No, you’re it! I was in the safe zone!
Stop cheating, Marshal!
Yeah, stop being such a baby.
These are the voices of children playing outside in the rain. That means that I wasn’t captured by raiders at all. Is this another town or village? I have never heard of there being such a place so near the Epicenter. But there is no way that the bearded leader could guess that I know that. He’s going to try and make me think that I’m in danger, though there is still a possibility of that. But if there are children, then that means these people are just trying to stay safe. Once they see that I’m not a threat, they aren’t going to kill me.
The thoughts leave my mind instantly as I open my eyes. It isn’t true. Townspeople kill outsiders all the time if they think it will better serve them. Regardless, it makes me feel more at ease.
The door opens wide and beardy flips on the light, blinding me and sending a surge of pain through my head. Through squints I can see two men at his side, both carrying guns. Beardy seems unarmed but he undoubtedly has a knife or something.
The light shows me that there is a table in front of me with a chair on the other side. Beardy scoots the chair out and sits across from me, a large stupid smile spread across his face.
“I’m glad to see that you’re awake,” he says. “Would you like some water?”
“I’d like you to explain why you knocked me out and tied me to a chair. Then I would like you to kill yourself and burn for eternity,” I say with as much callousness as I can muster.
Beardy turns to his men and waves them away. They close the door behind them leaving only the two of us in the room.
“My name is Stephen,” he says.
“I don’t care.”
“What is your name?”
“Bill,” I say.
Stephen is stoned-faced. He stares into my eyes for a long moment before turning his face down to look at the table. His fingers tap the smooth surface and his knee moves up and down as if he’s already getting frustrated.
“You know if you don’t tell me the truth, I can make your life very miserable,” he says. “You know what we raiders are capable of.”
I have to keep myself from smiling. Stephen is no more a raider than I am, but I know he’s got to try and keep his edge. Next, he’s going to threaten to kill me or torture me.
“What were you doing in the hospital, Bill?” He says Bill very slowly as if to tell me that he will play my little game for a beat.
“I already told you,” I say.
He nods. “Yes, well, you told me two things. First, you were going in for supplies, then you told me that you were looking for someone.”
“Can’t it be both?” I ask.
“Why are you looking for Jessi Paxton?” he asks.
“Why? You know her?”
“I’m asking the questions,” he says.
“So am I.”
“You don’t have the right.”
“Neither do you.”
“You were trespassing on our territory.”
“There are no more territories.”
Stephen’s face is turning red beneath his beard. “I didn’t come in here to play games.”
“No, you came in here to intimidate me, but you won’t get that chance. I’m not afraid of you.”
He stares at me for a moment, his eyebrows lowered as if he’s studying what I just said. “No,” he says. “You aren’t afraid of me. I see that clearly.”
“Why don’t you just let me go?” I ask. “I didn’t do anything to disrupt your livelihood. All I did was take a file.”
“Yes, and that’s what I am curious about,” he says. “Had you come out with syringes or medicine, I might have let you go, but the file intrigues me.”
“Lies, Stephen,” I say with a clenched jaw. “Raiders never let someone go. If you are true to what you claim then you would have just killed me and taken my stuff. Truth is, you or someone above you runs the village or town where we now sit. You’re trying to scare me to get some truth out of me
because you saw that I was alone. And if I’m a woman and alone, I must be scared already, so why not tie me to a chair, take my shoes, and tell me you’re a raider?”
“You speak as if you know everything, yet you woke up in a drafty, cold room, tied to a chair,” he says. “You’re not in a position to dictate to me.”
“Neither are you,” I say. “So let’s be through with this. Either be the raider and shoot me, rape me, whatever you want to do, or be the regular surviving townsperson and let me go, or kill me to make you and your people feel safer.”
“Why were you looking for Jessi Paxton?” he asks.
“I wasn’t…just pulled a random file from the maternity ward, hoping for a good read.”
“If you want to be released, you’re going to talk,” he says. “So, maybe I’m not a bandit, maybe I’m not going to kill you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t leave you in this room until you’re ready to talk.”
“Good,” I say, barely above a whisper. “At least I will be safe.”
Stephen leans forward and rests his hands on the table. He’s wearing a gold wedding band, so he’s either still married or can’t let go of the fact that his wife has long since died. “You will talk to us eventually,” he says. “Why not save yourself the trouble?”
“What would your wife think about you tying me up and leaving me in here?” I ask. “What if it was her sitting in this chair?”
He looks slightly confused.
“You wouldn’t want her sitting here with rope so tight against her wrists that she’s lost feeling in her fingers, would you? Wouldn’t you want to kill the man that did that to her? The man that hit her in the head, tied her up and stole her shoes? The man that left her in the dark until she told him something useful?”
The Starborn Ascension: Books 1, 2, and 3 (The Starborn Saga) Page 20