by Jeff Olah
She couldn’t tell if the water running from the lone faucet along the back wall of the cellar was clean enough to consume and after running it over Sean’s hair she cupped her hands and decided to give it a shot. The cool liquid ran down her parched throat easily and with no metallic taste or grit to speak of, she forced her brother to drink a few handfuls.
“You’re not bleeding, but that lump on the side of your head is pretty bad. Do you feel nauseous at all?”
“Megan, you said this guy killed at least two police officers today and possibly more. Wake up… my head is fine, we need to get out of here now. Like right now. Is there anything we can stand on to get to that window?”
“Don’t you think I tried that?” Megan said. “I’ve was down here for a few hours before you even woke up. As dark as it’s been, I’ve been trying to find a way out of here since he threw me down those stairs. Yes, I know what the situation is and I’m absolutely terrified… I’ve just been trying not to let you know how lost I am.”
“What about that room in the back?”
“I checked it out already. Nothing in there but a couple of old beds and some empty boxes. The cellar doors at the top of the stairs are locked from the outside and the only window in this place is just behind you. If we can find a way to get past the security bars, there might be a chance.”
Sean moved to the window as tendrils of soft moonlight finally found its way into their subterranean space. The folding chair left near the rear wall by Megan was the perfect height for him to get a clear vantage of the wrap-around porch and left side of the single story home. “Megan the lights are on in the house. He must still be here.”
“OK?” she said.
“Why would he just take us and throw us down here? He must have had a reason.”
“Sean, one thing your big brain will learn some day is that crazy doesn’t always have a reason. This guy is a psychopath and may not even think he’s done anything wrong. He’s smart though. I tried to get him to see us as people. I told him our names and he seemed to see through what I was trying to do, although maybe it worked and that’s why he hasn’t come back.”
Sean didn’t respond. He stood on his toes and instead of peering through the window and the metal bars beyond; he used the sleeve of his shirt to clean the layer of grime from the inside of the window. “Megan, did you say you found some tools?”
“No I didn’t say that, although there are a few wooden crates under the stairwell.”
“Was there a hammer and possibly a flat head screwdriver?”
“I don’t know,” Megan said.
Sean stepped carefully off the chair and followed the path of moonlight to the stairs. On all fours he slipped into the darkness, arms outstretched and feeling his way toward the wooden boxes his sister had seen hours earlier. Many of the items left behind appeared to be useless in his attempt to get through the window. Just before giving up, he slammed his head into the large metal pipe running the length of the cellar along the wall. “COME ON!” The impact threatened to again relieve him of consciousness, although gritting through the blinding pain, he was able to keep himself calm and focused on what he came to do.
Sean backed out of the darkness and turned to Megan, who’d taken his spot on the chair. He said, “I’m getting us out of here.”
The last crate he pulled from under the stairwell contained everything he’d need to free them from this prison. Sean moved quickly to the window, set the box next to the wall and helped Megan down.
“How are you gonna get through those bars?” Megan asked.
“With these,” Sean said holding up a small hammer and a Phillips head screwdriver.
“You’re planning to chisel you way out of here?”
“Yep. The cement blocks that the bars are bolted to will be tough to get through, but I’m sure I can do it before morning. If he doesn’t come back before then, we are good to go.”
“That is never going to work,” Megan said. “If he’s anywhere on this property he’ll hear you… no way, think of something else.”
Turning from his sister, Sean stepped onto the chair. “It’s our only chance.” He carefully used the hammer to plunge the screwdriver through the corner of the window near the weather-stripping and then used the red shop towels to move the shattered glass away. He was impressed with his ability to keep the noise level to a minimum and turned to Megan for her concurrence.
“Sean, I still don’t think that was a good idea…”
“Your sister is smart… you shouldn’t have done that.”
The woman, who’d yet to make her presence known, stood in the doorway between the two rooms, the moonlight casting enough of a glow on her battered face for the siblings to realize she was probably right. Tears ran down her face as she began to turn away. “He killed all of them… every single one, and we’re next. We are all that’s left.”
133
The cool night air flowed through the opening as Sean moved his attention back to the window. He scanned the yard and although focused on the front door, he’d wished his vantage allowed for a wider viewing angle. The memories of stopping on the roadside and his sister being thrown into the back of the pickup came rushing back as the man holding them captive emerged through the front door. He stood at the foot of the porch peering out into the night, before taking a long pull off the bottle he held in his left hand. Tossing it to the ground he stepped off the porch and strode quickly toward the rear of the house and disappeared.
“He’s coming,” Sean said.
The woman standing in between the two rooms hurried off into the darkness and away from the siblings. Sean followed her into the room as she moved to her stomach and pulled herself back under the bed, into the spot where she’d been hiding since before Sean and Megan arrived. “He’s going to kill us… all of us,” She said. Sliding further into the corner like a scared animal, the woman pulled her knees to her chest and covered her head. “Go… hide… PLEASE!”
The metal security doors at the entrance to the cellar shook as the man outside unlocked and threw them open. With the moonlight flooding in, he rushed down the staircase without saying a word and stepped to the side as Megan planted her right foot and took a swing in his direction. He grabbed her by the neck and shoved her backward into the staircase. Turning, he moved quickly past Sean and into the back room. With one hand he tossed the bed to the side and with the other he pulled the woman feet first out of the room. Grasping her by the waist, he tossed her, kicking and screaming onto his shoulder.
Scrambling to her feet, Megan pushed away from the stairwell and in an attempt to right herself, tripped over the wooden box left in the middle of the room. She again stood and began climbing the stairs in pursuit of their attacker as he reached the threshold and slammed the woman to the ground outside.
Megan flinched and backed away as the monstrous doors were slammed shut and locked once again, before she had a chance to retaliate. Turning to her brother she said, “Sean what are you doing? She needed our help. He’s going to…”
Standing in the cover of darkness, against the block wall Sean was frozen. He wanted to help, although he was terrified of what would have happened if he had tried to intervene.
As she stepped into the light provided by the shattered window, she began to scream. Not only could he hear the distress in her voice, Sean could also see it in Megan’s face. Bright red with veins coursing through her forehead, she stood just inches from him. “SEAN, WAKE UP. THAT MAN IS GOING TO KILL HER. AND THEN HE IS GOING TO COME BACK AND KILL US.”
Sliding to his knees, Sean dropped his head. “It’s my fault… I broke the window. I’m sorry. I just thought that…”
She didn’t want him to give up. Megan needed him as much as he needed her. “Sean, that man has done things that you couldn’t possibly imagine. We need to get out of this hole or we’re going to die here. We need to get to that woman and help her.”
The woman’s screams continued into the night and in
termittently throughout the next day. Neither of the siblings even attempted sleep for fear they’d awake to a much worse fate than what they’d witnessed so far. Taking turns at the window, Megan and her brother watched the house and waited for a sign of what was to come.
As the hours turned to days, the woman’s cries for mercy became less frequent as did sightings of their captor. He’d walk out into the yard a few times each day to address any new Feeders that had the misfortune of striding onto this property. The man, who they considered a much more lethal threat than anything undead, began piling the bodies of the family he killed inside the home, with the many Feeders he battled outside.
Twice in eleven days, the mad man marched to the open window and tossed in a few small paper bags. Never making eye contact with either of his prisoners, he’d move back to the home without a word spoken. The contents of each bag were familiar; they were the supplies Sean packed before leaving home. The questionable water they drank, a few small snacks and the two to three hours of sleep each day were the only things keeping them somewhat coherent.
The severe headaches due to a lack of food subsided within the first few days and their hunger pangs transitioned into fits of delusion as the pair fought to remain rational. Megan would begin each day with stories from their youth, although Sean usually became restless and would venture back to the window, hammer and screwdriver in hand. Megan would beg him to stop, although after nearly two weeks, the difference between the mental tortures they were being subjected to and death became almost irrelevant.
The growing mound of bodies piled outside the cellar doors radiated a stench that could have been traced for miles. Each day began like the one before as the sun grew overhead and the passing wind trapped the smell below ground. Attempting to keep down what little food they were given became nearly impossible.
The morning of their seventeenth day trapped in hell, they used an old bed sheet soaked in water to cover the window in an attempt to stave off the intolerable odor, although this plan only lasted a few hours. Unable to see his prisoners, the man from the house moved quickly to the window holding a pot of boiling water. He reached in, grabbed the sheet and as he pulled it away tossed in the steaming liquid, narrowly missing Sean as he twisted to the side and out of the way.
“No more,” the man said as for the first time in days, he made eye contact with the pair. He slammed the pot against the metal bars, causing Sean to flinch and from one knee continued, “If you keep quiet, I won’t hurt either of you. You are part of this family now. Don’t make me come back here.”
In a fit of delusion Megan countered. “Where is that woman you took?”
“She’s fine. I haven’t hurt her… yet.”
As Megan began to respond, He looked back toward the house and then back at Sean. “Son,” he said, grabbing a handful of the chipped away block wall. “You’re not going to dig your way out of here, I guarantee it. If you do somehow manage to get these bars loose, I’d get here long before you or your sister could ever escape. So save your energy, you’ll need it.”
As he stood and went back to the house, Megan hurried to the wall and counted to herself as he marched along the short path to the front door. Stepping down, she moved to the back room, pulled the remaining sheet from the bed and ran to the faucet. Letting the water flow in and soak the fabric, she looked back at the window.
Sean stepped to his sister looking curiously at the sink. “Really? You saw what just happened, right? I really don’t think we need to piss him off any more than he already is.”
“Sean, this man is going to kill us. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but at some point he’ll get tired of the head games and just do it. I don’t know how long we’ve been locked in this cellar, but I can’t stay down here another night and I will not relieve myself in the corner of that room one more time. We both know what he’s capable of and there’s no other way around it.”
“Megan, he told us not to…”
“Help me put this sheet back over the window. We’re getting out of here today.”
134
Striding behind the lawnmower tending to the area adjacent to the entry gate, not a single cloud dotted the sky above Blackmore. This was the first day since the world was torn apart by the infection over two weeks ago that he wasn’t running. The heavy breathing and trails of sweat emanating from every pore were this time from hard work. The past seventy-two hours were much harder than the previous fourteen days. The torturous events he somehow managed to escape when arriving at this facility were incomprehensible. Although they now seemed insignificant in comparison to the thoughts and memories that now occupied his every waking moment. Losing his family in the blink of an eye would dictate the remainder of his life.
The people inside the walls of this compound were now his family and he’d already made a promise to April and Justin that he would continue to give to those who needed him. This promise would keep him connected to those who’d gone before him and give him a purpose where there no longer appeared to be one.
Mason shut down the mower, walked to the guard tower and retrieved the half gallon container of water he’d been drinking from for the majority of the afternoon. He stood in the shade, pulled his shirt off and after quenching his perpetual thirst, poured the remaining fluid over his head. His wounded body had already begun to heal and the pain in his shoulder was less demanding now that he’d had some time to rest. Having to remind himself to eat since locking down Blackmore, Mason knew this world wasn’t any less threatening just because they were behind the walls. He now needed to regain his strength for the next chapter of his new life.
Returning the mower to its home and disposing of the clippings, Mason stood near the large metal dumpster and watched as William finished a conversation with Randy and made his way over.
“How’s the yard coming along?” William said.
“You tell me,” Mason said pointing in the direction of Building One. “This place was in need of help long before we got here.”
William caught himself as he scanned the area, his attention stalling at the graves of his friend’s wife and son. “Mason… how are you holding up? If you need anything…”
“I’m still numb. I don’t know how to feel other than empty. You?”
“About the same I guess. I still talk to her every day,” William said.
Mason bit his lower lip as it began to quiver. “Me too.”
“I’m sorry bud; I didn’t come over to bring you down. There’s actually something you need to see. I just showed Randy a picture of it and he agrees. You need to see this.”
“OK, what is it?” Mason asked.
William closed the cover on the tablet as Mason looked over. “Are you done out here? This is something you need to see firsthand. The pictures here don’t tell the story. Randy said he’ll stay and take watch.”
“Before we head out, do you know if Randy made his way around the perimeter yet?”
“Yes, he said other than the rear gate, this place is as safe as it’s going to get.”
“Other than the rear gate?” Mason said.
Pointing to the clearing beyond the rear walls of Blackmore, William said, “Well… the way the hillside out there is situated everything flows into the area just outside the gates. Feeders have been funneling in there since we locked it down, although so far we’ve been able to stay out of sight and far enough away that I don’t think they’ve realized we’re here.”
“Will it be a problem once they do? How long can that gate hold them back?”
“Randy really isn’t too sure. He’s looking at ways to fortify it without making too much of a production out of it. Once again, trying to fly under the radar.”
“Sounds good,” Mason said.
Pausing for a moment to watch as Randy finished up near the rear gate and then turning to William, Mason continued, “So… what did you need to show me?”
“Follow me,” William said as the two made their way to Building Six.
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Through the entrance and into the sparse lobby, Mason was stunned at how orderly the others had managed to get this building in such a limited amount of time. He’d worked on the exterior for the last few days and had little to do with what was taking place inside the six structures he was now responsible for. He moved quickly through each building, eradicating any Feeders left behind after the initial onslaught and hadn’t returned to the interiors, other than Building One since. Things were much different today.
Other than the dried blood that adorned the walls and flooring, it was hard to imagine that hundreds of those things were trapped here for two weeks. As the men made their way down the main hall that ran the length of the building, they passed two vacant offices and not a stick of furniture remained out of place.
Mason had only descended the stairs to the basement on one other occasion. He walked with trepidation the first time and today was no different. Cool and dark, the only sound radiating from below came from the fifty foot bank of refrigerators along the wall nearest the two men. The low hum gave Mason pause once again, as if masking some alternate force ready to annihilate all who dared attempt to transcend the stairwell.
Reaching the basement floor, Mason said, “William, I’ve been down here before… Randy and I recorded everything. I’ve seen the massive stockpile of food, weapons and supplies. I don’t think I need to go through it again.”
“Trust me my friend, I guarantee you haven’t yet seen everything this basement has to offer, not by a longshot.”
In between the pallets that housed boxes upon boxes of military grade weaponry and the rations that could sustain the group for years, they walked to the south corner where William stopped, retrieved the tablet from his coat pocket and powered it back up. Leaning to the right and nodding to Mason, he flipped through a few applications and rested on an image of a long corridor too obscure to make out much of anything.
Confused, Mason cocked an eyebrow. “What am I looking at, some sort of hallway? Where is this?”