Death City: A Post-Apocalyptic Adventure (Dark Resistance Book 1)

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Death City: A Post-Apocalyptic Adventure (Dark Resistance Book 1) Page 12

by Stephanie Mylchreest


  “Okay, let’s rest here. But we move at first light.”

  “Thank you,” replied Harper. She kept her hand on his arm a moment longer, drawing strength from their proximity.

  She turned to speak to Sara when, from the other side of the concrete wall, there was a loud growl. Harper’s heart rose into her throat and she grabbed Tomas on instinct, lifting him into her arms and backing away from the building. A dark, menacing shape materialized in one of the gaps and began to bound toward them on all fours.

  Sara screamed and Harper turned to run away. But Lukas held his ground and then ran at the animal. He drew back his leg, kicking it hard with his boot. There was a yelp, and the animal fell heavily to the ground. Lukas raised his foot again and Harper turned—covering Tomas’ eyes—not wanting either of them to see the animal’s death.

  There was a sickening crunch and when she turned back, she could make out a black doberman laying motionless in the scrubby grass. “Guard dog,” said Lukas, shaking his head. “There is only ever one. The guard must be dead.”

  She looked down at Tomas. The boy seemed to be shutting down, his face expressionless and his eyes staring straight ahead, unblinking. Whether due to trauma or exhaustion, Harper wasn’t sure, but she felt an overwhelming need to protect the boy. “Stay with me, buddy,” she whispered to him. “You’re going to be okay.”

  “Follow me,” said Lukas, as he strode onto the ground floor of the concrete slab. The others paused outside on the grass under a small copse of trees. “It is safe,” he said. “All the gang bangers will be dead now. Come.” He disappeared into the dark building.

  “I don’t want to go in there,” whispered Sara.

  “It’s as good a place as any to wait. This whole area is surrounded by forest. If it goes up in the fires, there’s nowhere else to seek shelter,” replied Harper. “Wait for us,” she called to Lukas. Then, taking a deep breath, she followed him inside.

  It was dark inside the shell, and she gave herself a moment for her eyes to adjust. Along one wall were floor to ceiling square holes, through which she could see more of the decrepit building, and beyond that, the moonlit forest. The air was damp and the stench of urine was strong.

  Broken glass underfoot crunched as she stepped across the space. Something scurried away among the shadows, but she continued on, undeterred. Lukas’ profile was silhouetted in one of the squares like an image from a fairytale. His manicured beard and strong nose were clearly visible, like a sculpture of a woodcutter that had crawled inside from the forest beyond. But then he turned to face her, and the surreal moment was gone.

  She stood close to him—close enough to smell his acidic, unwashed smell—with Tomas quiet in her arms, and waited for the others to catch up. Sara and Joe appeared by her side and Lukas continued wordlessly through the labyrinth, keeping close to the edge of the building near the gaps that allowed the scant light from the moon in.

  From the depths of the darkness, there was a loud keening. Words, shouted in Slovak, bounced off the concrete walls maddeningly.

  “Who is that?” asked Harper, holding Tomas to her more tightly. Lukas was standing defensively, his knees locked, fists clenched by his side. “I thought you said they were all dead,” said Harper.

  “It looks like someone survived,” replied Lukas. He shouted something in Slovak and turned to Harper. “I told them to leave, or we will kill them.” There was an angry, shouted reply, and the sound of footsteps disappearing in the dark.

  “What the hell?” asked Joe.

  “It is okay. It was just a drunk. They have left,” replied Lukas in a deadpan voice, although his hands were still clenched tightly.

  “We should have spoken to them!” Joe sounded furious. “Don’t tell the survivors we will kill them. What is wrong with you, man?”

  “Some people we do not want to speak to,” replied Lukas. “A gang banger holed up in the hospital is not someone you want to be around.”

  Harper tuned out and listened, but there was no sign that anyone remained close by. Lukas began to walk away. “Come,” he said, not looking back.

  They reached a staircase and began to climb. Harper felt exhausted, Tomas suddenly a huge weight in her arms. But she dug deep and pushed onwards up several flights. The higher they climbed, the louder the whistle of the wind that carried with it scorched ashes and choking smoke.

  Finally, they reached one of the lower roofs of the hospital. The relief of stepping into the light, of finding a flat, safe place to stop, was overwhelming. Harper felt tears in her eyes.

  Sara appeared and lay Erik down gently on the ground. Harper placed Tomas down too and he held her for a moment, grounding himself and finding his balance. Then he scuttled over to the unconscious dog and curled himself around the animal. The little boy closed his eyes and seemed to drop instantly into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Seventeen

  They stood on the edge of the roof, a thick canopy of dark, moody green spread out below them. Beyond the forest was the burning city and Harper’s breath caught in her throat, struck by the catastrophic destruction of Bratislava in such a short time.

  “The city will be totally gutted soon,” said Joe. He put one arm around Harper, his other around Sara, and hugged them both to him. Harper closed her eyes for a moment and concentrated on the weight of Joe’s arm around her. She leaned in to him, resting her head against his chest. When she opened her eyes, they flicked to Lukas who stood awkwardly at the edge of the group.

  Harper felt bad for him and moved away from Joe, turning to face Lukas. “Thank you,” she said softly. “Thank you for saving me back there, and for bringing us here.”

  “You didn’t have to burn that guy to death,” said Joe, staring at the city, talking to Lukas without looking at him. “Or scare the homeless guy away.”

  Lukas shrugged. “It was the only weapon I could find at short notice.” He mumbled something in Slovak and crossed himself. “Also, we do not want a drunk gang banger to join us, trust me.”

  Joe shook his head. After a long, tense pause, he said, “We need to rest and then leave at first light. By then the fires should have burned out and we can make it to the highway.” He stepped back, glancing at Tomas and Erik. “I hope the dog recovers,” he continued in a low voice. “That bastard kicked him hard in the head and he just dropped. I don’t know what Tomas will do if Erik dies.”

  “There’s been so much death in his life already,” replied Sara. “In all of our lives.” A solemn silence descended on them, the only noise the howl of the wind through the concrete bones of Rázsochy Hospital, bringing with it the whisper of ashes.

  “What is this place, Lukas?” asked Harper.

  Lukas ran his hand over his beard and glanced at the other side of the hospital where several stories of concrete frames rose behind them, covered in graffiti and plant life that was gradually reclaiming the space. “It was begun two years before the fall of the communist regime,” he said. “It was supposed to be a magnificent medical facility, but the project was abandoned almost thirty years ago because they ran out of money.”

  “You seem to know your way around here pretty well,” commented Joe.

  “I’ve been here before,” replied Lukas. He offered no further explanation.

  “It’s a weird place,” said Sara. “It gives me the creeps and I can’t wait to leave tomorrow. Do you think that person will come back?”

  “No,” replied Lukas. “I scared him away.”

  “Do we have any water? Any food?” Harper asked. Lukas and Joe both raised their hands in the air, reminding her of the fragility of their situation.

  “I left my bag back at that shopping complex,” replied Joe, frowning. “I have nothing. No passport, no phone. Nothing.”

  Harper dropped down and opened her bag. She pulled out the contents and lay them on the mossy, pitted concrete roof. “I have half a bottle of water, two chocolate bars, my phone…” she paused, running her finger over Wolf’s phone screen. Her th
roat began to close up and she struggled to compose herself. She emptied the rest of her backpack wordlessly.

  “What is that thing?” asked Lukas, stepping closer.

  Harper reached out and picked up the object from the cave. It shimmered strangely in the moonlight. She turned it over, remembering Wolf’s touch on her back, his kiss. “We found it,” she eventually said. “In a cave.”

  “Can I hold it?”

  Harper passed it to him and watched as he turned it over in his hands. He stared at it, seemingly lost in his own tiny, distorted reflection. There was a loud howl from the forest nearby and Lukas looked up, disoriented.

  “Let me put it away safely,” said Harper. “It reminds me of someone I’ve lost. I want to look after it.” She held out her hand and Lukas pressed the smooth object into her palm. Harper wrapped it in a t-shirt and placed it gently in the bottom of the bag. She shivered. She was only wearing a tank top after shedding her shirt earlier. But it wasn’t just the temperature. She didn’t like stopping, there was too much space for nightmarish thoughts and memories to claw their way to the surface.

  “Sara, what do you have in your bag?” asked Joe, his eyes on Harper’s face.

  “I’m okay,” Harper mouthed to him.

  Sara unzipped her bag and poked around inside. “I’ve got one bottle of water and three bags of crisps.”

  “It would be good if we had some more food and water,” said Joe. “A weapon would be good too, in case we see those brotherhood people again. But that will have to do. We should get to the quarantine-processing center early in the morning so it’s not like we’ll starve to death.”

  “I will go to the guard’s office to see if there is anything else,” said Lukas. They all looked at him, unsure of what to say, until Harper shrugged.

  “Might be worth a look,” she said, forcing a smile. Lukas nodded and turned toward the stairs. He disappeared and they could hear his rapid footfall fade as he descended into the guts of the hospital.

  “Guys,” said Sara furtively. “I have the gun from the brotherhood people. I picked it up back when that psycho torched that dude.”

  “What the hell, Sara? Do you even know how to fire it? Is the safety on?” Joe frowned and put his hand out for the weapon.

  “I have no idea. I’ve had it my backpack this whole time. I was worried we’d go over a bump and it would shoot me in the back. And don’t act like you know anything about guns.”

  “Let me see,” said Harper. Sara reached into her bag and extracted the gun between two fingers. She passed it to Harper who examined it. “It’s a mark two Ruger,” she said. “Look here, this is the safety. It needs to be pushed all the way up until it clicks and you can see the ‘s’.” She pushed the safety on and passed the gun back to Sara.

  “I didn’t know you were a gun expert,” said Joe. His voice was light, but he looked at Harper warily.

  “I’m the furthest thing from an expert,” Harper replied. “I learned to shoot at a shooting range. I went through a phase where I read a lot about them.” Harper shrugged.

  She didn’t feel like explaining her fascination with guns, with self-defense. A childhood of fear, of hiding in the dark until she was found and beaten, of being returned to the dark to sit out her punishment; those experiences had a profound impact on her. But how do you tell someone that you were locked in the basement as a child and listened to your father storm through the house, fearing every creak of his step was him returning to finish you off?

  So she said nothing and stared at the stars on the horizon, sinking deeper into her darkest, most secret memories.

  “Are you okay, Harper?” asked Sara. She slid her hand into Harper’s.

  Harper ran her hands through her long hair, teasing out the knots. “I’m just thinking about things.”

  “It’s been a pretty fucked up day.” Sara pursed her lips.

  Harper couldn’t help but laugh. “I just need to get out of here. I want to see my parents. I need to see my dad. We have a lot of… unfinished business.”

  “He was born here?” asked Joe.

  “Yeah… he grew up near the High Tatras, in a small town close to the mountains.” Harper moved closer to Joe and inspected the blood on his shirt. “Joe, we haven’t looked at your arm.”

  “It’s fine,” he replied. “There are more important things going on.”

  Ignoring his objection, Harper lifted his arm and turned it over gently, looking for the source of the blood. “You need to take your jacket off. Let me wash the wound with a little water.”

  “We don’t have enough. Don’t waste it.”

  But Harper already had the bottle in her hand. She helped Joe out of his jacket and unscrewed the lid of the bottle. She washed the dried blood from his skin, her touch tender. “Sara, do you have a spare t-shirt or something in your bag?” Harper asked. Sara passed her an item of clothing and Harper wrapped it firmly around the wound, tying the ends together.

  Joe’s green eyes found hers and his hand cupped her arm. For a second it was just the two of them, an electric charge pulsing between them. From below them they heard footsteps and Harper tore her gaze away, watching as Sara hurried to put the gun in her backpack. “Don’t tell him I have it,” she whispered to them.

  “He’s saved us a couple of times now,” whispered Harper in reply. “I think he’s just a little odd. But he’s a good guy. I think we can trust him.”

  “He torched a guy to death.” Joe was poker-faced.

  Harper closed her eyes, desperate to get the image out of her mind. “It might have been an error of judgment,” she said quickly. “But I won’t tell him about the gun.”

  The footsteps grew louder and Lukas appeared at the top of the stairs. He crossed the roof, looking at Erik and Tomas as he passed them. They were curled into a tight ball, Tomas cocooning the small dog with his body. “I had good luck,” he said. “Look what I found.” He held up a glass bottle triumphantly. “I have my good friends Jack and Daniels here for the party.” He laughed a hollow laugh that reverberated around the concrete skeleton of the hospital. “Anyone for a drink?”

  The others shook their heads. “We might lie down for a bit,” said Harper. “So we’re ready to go in the morning.”

  “That is a good plan,” replied Lukas. “It is still very smoky, but it looks as though the fire is losing its intensity. We will leave as soon as the sun is up. We will more easily make our way through the forest and make good time to the quarantine center. I found a little food, so we will have something to eat in the morning.”

  Harper gave him a half smile and watched as he sat on the edge of the roof, his legs hanging over the side. He took a long drink of the amber liquid and coughed wetly. She felt like she should say something more to Lukas. He seemed lonely, an island just out of reach. Something about him called to her. She wanted to like him, for them to be friends. But she couldn’t find the words.

  Instead, she turned and lay down next to Tomas, the boy’s body warm against her bare arm. Joe lay next to her, and Sara lay down on his other side. Above her, the sky swirled with smoke and ash as the fire continued to devour what was left of the dead city. The floor below was cold and vaguely damp where patches of moss had established themselves in the slowly eroding concrete.

  Joe found her hand in the dark and entwined his fingers with hers. His soft, consistent touch made her want to cry. The feeling was so uncomfortable that she almost pulled her hand away. But in the end, she let him hold her. Neither of them slept, but instead waited together for the sun to rise.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The sun lingered below the horizon for a long time. Harper could sense it, could see the silvering of the mountains, and she waited, watching for the bright yellow ball to finally emerge over the lush, green mountains.

  Lukas was snoring several feet away, the bottle from the guard’s office standing empty on the edge of the concrete roof. Everyone except for her and Joe were sleeping. She rolled over, careful not t
o wake Tomas, and lay with only a few inches between them. She could see every fine detail of his face. He blinked and stared at her, his green eyes shiny in the dim light.

  “So here we are,” whispered Joe. He bit the bottom of his lip and laid a hand on her face, cupping her cheek. Harper felt like she was on fire. She wanted to kiss him, and to push his hand away. She needed him, but she didn’t want him. Tears pricked her eyes. “Don’t cry,” he whispered. He took her hand and leaned in closer, his lips brushing her cheek just beside her mouth.

  From the other side of Tomas she heard a snuffle and a low whimper. Sitting up, she slipped her hand out of Joe’s. She felt acutely self-conscious as he watched her stand and crawl around the small boy. She found Erik with his eyes open and she stroked his head softly. “You’re a good dog,” she whispered. “Thank you for trying to save me.”

  The beagle looked at her with sad, brown eyes and licked her hand. Harper stood up and stared at the city. Sporadic fires continued to burn and she could see the closest buildings, less than a half-mile through the forest, were still smoldering. A heavy haze of smoke hung over the small metropolis. The once pretty, white-walled, red-roofed city was blackened beyond recognition.

  Harper heard someone stirring and when she glanced back, Tomas was opening his eyes. He looked around as though trying to remember where he was, and his eyes came to rest on her. “Good morning, Tomas.” She tried to smile reassuringly.

  He sat up and looked around, disorientated. Then his eyes dropped to Erik and the boy wrapped his arms around the dog and started to speak to him in Slovak. Harper couldn’t understand the words, but she could see the love between them. Her eyes flicked to Joe and locked on his for a brief moment.

  “He just woke up,” she whispered to the boy. “Maybe he had a concussion. Should we see if he can walk?”

  Tomas nodded and scrambled to his feet. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself as he stood by her side. Harper couldn’t help but think how small he looked, how vulnerable. Since the moment she met him, she’d wanted to protect him. She knew the others felt the same. They had to get him out of here, they had to get him somewhere safe.

 

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