by Ryan Casey
He thought he felt himself blacking out. Thought he felt the life being knocked out of his body.
But no.
He was conscious. A little sore, but conscious.
He turned. Rolled onto his back.
When he did, he shuffled away.
He was on a balcony. The balcony he’d seen beneath him; the one where he’d said he and Anna should rest.
There was a glass window at the other side of the balcony.
There was movement behind that window.
And that movement was the movement of the undead.
He backed up against the balcony wall. Stared at the small group of the undead gathered around the window, clawing out at him. They were fresh. Barely even dead at all. None of them looked like they’d been bitten. Some were wearing white lab cloaks.
But make no mistake about it. They were gone. These people were gone.
“Riley? You okay?”
But there was something else that had caught Riley’s eye. Something that had completely occupied his focus.
Something that gave him an idea.
Right at the back of that room opposite him.
A chamber.
And inside that chamber, the unmistakable silhouette of an Orion.
“You should wait up there,” Riley said.
“What?” Anna called.
Riley stood. “Wait up there. Wait for me. There’s… there’s something I can do. Something I have to do.”
He walked right up to the glass. Stared into the glazed eyes of the monsters before him.
Stared past them, right over at that Orion.
He knew damn well he might not make it out of this room alive.
He knew damn well it might be the last thing he ever did.
But he was doing it. He had to do it.
Lives depended on it.
He took a deep breath, looked around on the ground beneath him and picked up a plant pot from the side of the balcony.
Then, he pulled it back and smacked it at the glass.
And as the glass got weaker and weaker, as the undead started to snap shards of it away, Riley stepped back, and he waited.
Chapter Seven
Ricky held his breath as the Orion looked into his eyes.
He could see the bloody mass between them; the mass of bodies the Orion had torn through like tender pulled pork. He could smell the stench of death in the air. It wasn’t a smell like people expected. It smelled like shit. Not decomposition—that smelled worse than anything of course. But the immediacy of death was bad, too.
Partially digested food. Working stomach acid. And, yes, shit. The body was merely a bag carrying all of those things; a tender framework holding it together. A balloon.
And when a balloon burst… when all of its contents were spilled out into the open… you know what happens. You get the picture.
He looked at the Orion. Carly was by his side. The Orion had clearly seen him. But it looked like it was taking a break, somehow. Like the ball was in his court, and it was waiting for him to make his move.
Problem was, Ricky didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to move an inch.
Even bigger problem?
He was going to have to make a move if he wanted to stand any chance of surviving.
He heard gasps in the distance. The echoing of footsteps as they raced across the ground. Sporadic gunfire. He knew what those were the sounds of. An attempt to contain something.
And it didn’t take a genius to figure out what the troops were attempting to contain.
“The other districts,” Ricky muttered.
“What?” Carly said.
He heard the scraping of metal, the collapse of the gates. The echoing screams and cries. And just hearing it confirmed his worst fears. “The other districts. It isn’t just here this is happening. It’s the other districts, too.”
“But if… if it’s the other districts then that means there’s—”
“Thousands. Yeah.”
He broke away from his conversation with Carly. Refocused on the Orion; the immediate threat to his life.
“The Orion can be programmed to hunt down people,” Ricky said. “But… but they hunt down infected. That’s their main goal. Right?”
Carly frowned. “But we saw it. We saw what it did to those troops. It’s hunting down people.”
The Orion held its ground, kept on looking at Ricky but grunting like it couldn’t quite figure out if he was there or not.
“Maybe those troops weren’t as clean as we might think.”
He saw the way Carly’s eyes widened, then. He saw the recognition of what he was saying; the realisation of the theory he was posing.
“And if it isn’t recognising us… if it isn’t acknowledging us… then that means…”
He was about to continue speaking when he heard the Orion’s heavy footsteps stamp down on the ground and start to march towards him, towards Carly.
His body went tight. His chest tensed up. Every inch of him went cold.
Because maybe he was wrong.
Maybe Carly was right.
Maybe the Orion really was hunting down people, and for whatever reason, it just hadn’t seen him; it hadn’t seen him, and it hadn’t seen Carly, but now it had, and it was going to come for them. It was going to get them; it was going to—
The Orion marched past Ricky.
Past Carly.
It took Ricky a second to realise what was happening.
There was a small group of infected at the mouth of the alleyway. They were runners, fresh-looking. They didn’t look like they’d been bitten. Looked much like Marie, that same half-conscious, half-gone expression to their faces like they weren’t completely present, weren’t completely there… but a fragment of them still remained.
The Orion lurched itself towards them. Slashed open the heads of some. Ripped others into two, stamping on their skulls.
And as Ricky watched it attack this group of infected, a warmth filled his body. A warmth of optimism.
Because if it was attacking the infected, then it meant he was right.
His hunch was right all along.
He couldn’t rest in this knowledge. He couldn’t be complacent. He knew Orions were still highly dangerous, even when humans weren’t their primary agenda.
He turned around. “We have to get a weapon,” he said. “Their guns. Quick. While it’s distracted.”
Carly nodded, clearly just as absorbed in the showdown as Ricky was.
And as much as he wanted to stay by this bin, as reluctant as he was to move, Ricky knew this was it. Now was the time.
So, Carly’s hand in his, he raced over towards the sloppy mess that remained of the troops.
He made a lunge for the nearest gun to him.
What happened next unfolded in slow motion.
First, he heard Carly’s voice.
Then he felt her grip loosening. Saw her running off ahead of him.
It was only when he stood, gun in hand, that he realised why.
He turned around.
The Orion was facing him.
He went to lift the gun.
But it was too late.
The Orion swung a heavy fist at his face.
He went flying over toward the bins. He felt at least three teeth loosen in his mouth, tasted blood.
And at that dazed moment, he felt a sort of appreciation for the Orion. An amazement at its sheer, unmatched strength.
Then he slipped out of his daze, and he saw the Orion towering over him as he lay beside the bins.
He took a deep breath, swallowed a mouthful of blood, and he smiled.
He held Melissa in his mind. And he’d hold her there, no matter what.
The Orion’s fist made contact with his face once again.
He felt more teeth loosening. More pain.
And with another hit, Ricky saw nothing but darkness.
Chapter Eight
Earlier…
Riley held his ground, waited for th
e glass to crack, and knew for certain that he was completely crazy at this point.
The creatures were pressing themselves up against the window of the balcony. Riley had made a crack in the glass and was watching as their rabid hands dragged away shard after shard of glass. There were six of them. There wasn’t much space on this balcony. So he knew for certain what a dangerous game this was. He knew just how mad he was to even be attempting it.
But sometimes, to survive, you had to be a little bit mental.
That’s one thing he’d certainly learned in his time surviving in the Dead Days.
“Riley!” Anna shouted. “What the hell are you doing?”
Riley looked up at her dangling from the rope above. He saw the panic in her eyes. The uncertainty. The goddamned lack of confidence in him.
“Don’t worry, darling,” he said. “I’m saving the—”
He didn’t finish what he was saying.
The undead smashed through the glass and came pouring through.
Riley held his ground. Lifted the heavy plant pot above his head. As much as he naturally viewed them as six undead creatures moving towards him, he knew he had to divorce himself from that idea; to view them instead as individuals, taking them on one by one.
That was something Anna had taught him. He knew he’d probably be dead if he hadn’t taken that advice on board. He had her to thank for that—and for a lot of things.
He watched the long-haired woman, blood on her lab coat that had drooled from her eyes, and he pulled back the heavy plant pot.
He swung it at her head. Heard the crack of bone. He knew it wasn’t enough. Just doing it, acting with this level of violence… it felt unfamiliar. It felt wrong.
The woman on the balcony floor glared back up at him, snarling, blood in between her teeth.
So Riley slammed that plant pot into the head of the woman—no, the creature, had to keep reminding himself of that—until she went totally still.
He looked up and saw two of the remaining five just inches from him.
He shimmed to the left.
The man on the right went flying against the edge of the balcony at such a speed that he went hurtling right over the edge.
The same couldn’t be said for the one on the left.
It grabbed Riley. Tightened its rock-solid grip around his shoulder, its long fingernails digging in.
“Why couldn’t you have been a bloody nail-biter when you weren’t infected?” he said, as the pain grew more intense.
Then he lost his footing and tumbled back onto the balcony floor.
The creature pushed him down. Its snarls were frantic, manic. Riley could only shuffle, try to hit it with the plant pot—
But then the creature pushed the plant pot away, smashing it on the floor, and he had nothing.
He looked up into the eyes of this man—this monster—and he realised he was trapped. And it wasn’t like he had much of a chance of using the decay to his advantage, either, because this was certainly a fresh creature.
But he knew that if there was one place of a body that was still soft, it was the eyes.
He’d experienced that more than he’d like to admit, in all truth.
So he lifted his hands. Turned in his thumbs. And he pushed them into this monster’s eyes, pressing harder and harder, breaking through the idea that this was actually a real, live person looking down at him, screaming away inside the mind of whatever he had become.
But he had to break past that, and he had to keep on pressing, keep on going.
He kept on going as the eyes started to expand under his thumbs.
He kept on going as he felt the sudden spray of blood leaking from inside.
He kept on going as—
The eyes burst.
He pushed harder, thick blood covering his face. And as much as he wanted to stop, as the taste of blood filled his mouth, covered his lips, he kept on going because that was what was going to keep him alive—and he had to do what was going to keep him alive.
He pushed harder until he felt the softness of the brains within.
He looked at the bloody remains of this creature’s face. And he felt no pity.
“Fuck you,” he said.
Then he slammed his thumbs right into the creature’s brain.
The creature twitched for a few seconds. Vibrated like electricity was shooting through it.
Then it went still.
He was almost relieved—almost—and then he saw the other two creatures flying towards him.
He stood up immediately. He grabbed the side of the first creature’s head and threw it over the side of the balcony.
The last one, it stood off a little. And he saw something in its eyes. Comprehension. Like it understood the fate that was going to befall it.
He tensed his blood filled hands and stepped towards it.
Grabbed it by the back of its neck.
Broke its neck.
Dragged it to the ground.
Then he stamped on its head, again and again and again until there was nothing left.
When he was done, Riley stood there. He stood there for a few seconds, listened to the silence. Heart racing. Breathing heavy. Violence in his eyes.
“Riley?”
He snapped out of his trance and looked up at Anna.
She looked down at him with concern.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Are you okay?
Was he okay?
What had awoken inside him?
What old demon that he thought he’d put to rest had arisen inside him all over again?
He closed his bloodied mouth. Felt his stomach turn as he looked down at the mess—the mess he’d caused.
Then he looked ahead at the Orion, sleeping in its metallic chamber, right at the other side of that room opposite.
“I will be,” he said.
Then he stepped inside the room.
It was time to do what he had to do.
It was time to step up.
It was time to fight back.
Chapter Nine
Ricky held his breath as the Orion stood over him and waited for the end.
He could barely see it. It was merely a dark silhouette now, staring down at him, its gaze intense. He could taste blood in his mouth, smell the remnants of death from the fallen soldiers. And as much as he was struggling to even form coherent thoughts, he knew what it probably meant. The Orion’s priority was people. It was a weapon deployed by the upper echelons of the district. Sure, it was high risk. And sure, it might result in the death of the troops, too.
But this Orion was programmed to hunt down everyone.
That seemed like the only way that the virus was going to be cleansed from this place—for good.
But Ricky didn’t have to concern himself with those matters. Not anymore. Not now he was lying on his back, wounded. He was at the mercy of the Orion, and he knew that Orions showed no mercy.
So now it was just a case of waiting for the final blow—and hoping it chose the least painful way of killing him that was possible.
He looked up at the sky, and he saw the sun peeking through the clouds. And seeing that, for the first time, made him think of Melissa. It made him think of how she’d be out there, fighting her own battles. Of how much stronger than him she was. And also of how sorry he was that he had to go now.
Because he knew this was the end.
He imagined the shock she’d feel when she returned home. He imagined her horror at seeing it in this state. He wondered if she already knew. The group she was with must be hooked up to some kind of communication system.
Whatever the case, he hoped it wasn’t distracting her from what she was doing; from what she had to do.
He hoped she was okay.
He heard the growl of the Orion. Watched as it pulled back its fist, went to crack it against his head. At least falling that way would be quick. Relatively painless, compared to some of the other alternatives.
So he he
ld his breath, tears rolling down his cheeks, and he waited.
“I’m coming, Melissa,” he said, the fear starting to fill his body; the reality dawning on him.
The Orion’s hand pulled back even further.
“I’m coming.”
He saw the hand move.
He braced himself for the impact.
Then he heard a blast.
He wasn’t sure what was happening. Not at first.
Not until he saw the Orion had spun around, tumbled, caught off guard.
And then he saw Carly standing there, rifle in hand, firing at it.
“Carly,” Ricky shouted.
The Orion turned around, focused its attention on her.
It was still standing.
It hadn’t fallen.
Ricky raced over to the middle of the alleyway, as weak as he was. He clambered for a gun.
The Orion closed in on Carly.
He picked up a gun. Tried to fire the trigger, but there was no ammo left in there.
The Orion got closer, closer, still standing, growing angrier and angrier like an unsettled wasp.
He reached for another rifle. Picked it up.
The Orion was just inches from Carly now.
He lifted the rifle. Held his breath. All or nothing.
Then he pulled the trigger.
When he pulled it, still weak after being beaten to fuck, he was taken aback by the kickback at first.
But then he held his ground.
Two streams of gunfire peppered against the Orion’s already wounded body.
It let out a cry. Lifted up its hands. Turned left and right and tried to figure out the best person to focus on; tried to figure out who was the weaker of the two.
And then it began to stagger towards Ricky.
Bullets kept on peppering it. Thick, sticky blood burst out of its body.
Its footsteps got heavier.
But its fist pulled back as it got closer.
And closer.
And…
It fell down, right at Ricky’s feet.
Ricky looked at the body in front of him. He was so weak he felt like he could fall to his knees himself.
Carly walked over. She put a hand on Ricky’s arm, as the pair of them looked at the Orion’s corpse in front of them.