by Jeff Olah
At this point, it didn’t matter. He was gone.
157
She lay calm in her bed; although the light spilling in told her it must have been late morning. More than one hundred eighty days had come and gone and for the first time since arriving at Blackmore, Eleanor awoke without physical pain. Her lower back loose and warm, the stabbing pain along her right knee almost undetectable, and her arthritic hands felt strong and limber. Lifting from her bed and placing both feet down on the cool tile, she welcomed this time of year; although before she had time to form a smile, it all came back.
Five months had passed since Randy was attacked and the emotional scars were different. They would temporarily fade each night as she drifted off, only to come rushing back the moment she realized where and when she was. Her physical ailments always diminished once winter had subsided, although the memories of the last several months of her life never would.
Eleanor sat forward, counted what few blessing she still had, and moved to the ladies lounge. She enjoyed being the first to wake and could count on one hand the number of times in the last ninety days that she shared her morning ritual with anyone other than a simple cup of coffee.
Readying herself rarely took up more than the first hour of the day and once finished, she’d take over the kitchen duties. Anything left from the night before was taken care of first. She’d wash and hand dry the pots and pans left to soak overnight, along with any wayward drinking glasses. Having something to do, something to keep herself busy, meant one less minute for her mind to wander away from her.
Once her room, the lounge, and the kitchen were presentable, Eleanor’s day began. She’d start the trio of coffee makers and begin by waking Dr. Lockwood. At his request, she’d knock three times and then open the door, allowing the overhead fluorescent light to flood in. His was the only room without the benefit of a window. He preferred to sleep in absolute darkness and no one questioned his motives.
Making her way down the hall, she’d simply call out to each person with a greeting of “Good morning” even though there hadn’t been one of those since the day of the infection. She was unsure there’d ever be one again.
As the others slowly made their way into the kitchen, they passed around the usual small talk and had little more than pleasantries to exchange. Lockwood helped prepare breakfast and then scurried off back to his work, while Mason, Randy, and Sean talked of past conquests involving sports and academics, rarely speaking of a time that neared the last few years.
With breakfast out of the way, Savannah ran through the inventory within Building One and listed out the items that were needed from one of the other three supply rooms. Food always came first and was leveled at a two-month supply, in the unlikely event they were unable to get to Building Six for an extended stretch of time. The group ruled that they’d replenish supplies on a weekly schedule and no one would ever exit the building alone.
The door secured behind them, Megan followed Randy out into the rear courtyard, shadowing him on his late morning rounds. As Eleanor tossed her hand towel on the counter and turned to Savannah, she said, “Sweetheart, can you finish up in here? There’s something I’d like to do.”
Savannah smiled. “Sure, go ahead. I’m almost done anyway.”
Searching the other rooms, she found Mason sitting alongside Sean in the Command Center, working in silence with his back to the door. Eleanor walked in, kissed him on the head, and stared blankly at the image splashed across the screen. “Mason, what are you looking at?”
“Just checking the area beyond the walls, making sure there isn’t anything we’re missing.”
“And?”
“And… everything looks fine,” Mason said. “Even the number of Feeders out front appears to be shrinking.”
“The weather’s even decided to give us a break. First day we’ve had sunshine in quite a while.”
“Yep.”
“Well then,” Eleanor said. “Hold all my calls. I’m going for a walk.”
Mason began to laugh, although paused as the full weight of what she said sank in. “Wait… what?” Even Sean froze in his seat as Eleanor turned and walked out toward the rear door.
“Eleanor,” Mason said. “You’re doing what, going for a walk? Wait, I’ll go with you.”
She stopped at the door and without turning said, “Mason, I’m going alone. I’ll stay away from the walls and you can sit here and watch me on the monitors… but I am going alone.” Eleanor stood at the door and waited. “Sean, please.”
He turned and looked at Mason. “Uh…”
“Eleanor,” Mason said. “I’ll just come outside and—”
“For goodness sake, the incident with that drifter was over five months ago. And besides, Randy and Megan are only going to be a few seconds away. Stay here and finish what you’re doing. I’m not asking to go for a stroll out in the woods; I just want some time alone to enjoy the warm weather.”
“We’ll be watching from here, please be careful. The last few weeks have been weird.” He turned back to Sean. “Ok, open it up.”
A half smile slid across her face as she moved through the door and out into the courtyard. Heading for the undamaged patch of grass where the sun appeared to be focusing its undivided attention, Eleanor walked slowly and enjoyed the privacy.
She retrieved her favorite folding chair and set it alongside the final resting place of her husband, daughter, and grandson. The memories of only months earlier still too painful to recount, she only wanted to be here with them. Nothing else. No conversation, no thoughts, and no fear. Easing into the chair, she leaned back, pulled her floppy straw hat down and closed her eyes.
The early days of spring came without warning. Snow and ice melted away as quickly as it had come only months before. The early morning breeze pushing in from the lower elevations urged the scent of drying pine needles into the courtyard as frost dripped from the rooftops, settling along the concrete walkways.
The change of seasons upon them, the group felt different. They’d come to know Blackmore as an inescapable prison since the first few days of real snowfall and although no one could describe what exactly had taken place, today was undeniably different.
“Mason,” Sean said, pointing at the upper left screen. “What do you think’s happening there?”
The image of his sister following around the man eight years her senior didn’t bother him; although it didn’t put him at ease either. Even after months of being secluded with these people, Randy was still a bit of a mystery to him. The others he felt an immediate bond with and knew most everything about how they arrived here, although this man his sister had obviously taken a liking to wasn’t as forthcoming. For now, he’d wait and watch.
Turning away from his monitor and the heartbreaking image of his mother-in-law, Mason wiped a tear from his eye and attempted to focus on what Sean was asking. “Happening with what?”
Sean pointed.
“Your sister and Randy… what do you think?”
“Looks like they have a thing for each other.”
“So?” Mason said. “What’s the problem?”
“I just hope…” Sean glanced over Mason’s shoulder and then back at his screen. “Uh, this can’t be good.”
Mason noticed it a half second after his younger friend. “Why’s Randy running?”
“It’s Eleanor,” Sean said. “Look at your screen.”
158
He was fast and low moving across the courtyard. Around the truck and over the hood of the SUV, he quickly gained speed and moved past the rear doors of Building One. In and out of view of the cameras, he knew he’d be seen and help would soon be through the door.
His mind running just as swiftly as he was, Randy narrowed his focus as he closed the gap. The grass still damp in areas and as slick as ice in others, he carefully calculated the time to reach her before they did. He didn’t like the answer.
Why was she out here alone? Why so close to the rear walls and how
’d those things end up back in the yard?
Clipboard in hand and her last comment failing to make an impact, Megan turned in the direction he ran. Still questioning his sudden departure from the East corner, she’d yet to see the danger. Moving around the cab of the truck parked just inside the gate, she heard the first scream.
Her hat in her hand and not twenty feet from the rear wall, Eleanor struggled to get free. A half dozen Feeders were making their way toward her from between Buildings Four and Five. Two more were within feet and the last had taken her to the ground. She slid across the grass on her back, kicking at the beast who’d just grabbed ahold of her right ankle.
As Randy raced toward the scene, Megan quickly ran through her options. With Building One in the distance and realizing the time factor, she scanned the area. Grabbing a grapefruit sized rock from under the tree to her left; she used both hands to toss it through the passenger window of the truck.
Pulling her sleeve down, Megan reached into the cab and below the seat. She came away with the emergency nine millimeter and started to run. Before Mason and her brother exited the building, she was in a dead sprint.
The screams growing in frequency and intensity, Megan pointed the weapon at the converging crowd. As Mason came up beside her, she stumbled through an area of wet grass and inadvertently fired the first round. Wincing as it missed striking Randy by less than a few feet; she lowered the gun and kept running.
“Hit that crowd,” Mason said. “I’m going to help Eleanor.”
She did. Breaking off, Megan moved to the small horde that’d grown in size. Within ten feet of the Feeders, she stopped and began to carefully take down the nearest three. Ten seconds later and although they still came, she’d eliminated eight more and given herself enough time to catch her breath.
Mason came in from behind and without a weapon in hand, struggled to pull the Feeder from on top of Eleanor. She fought to break free, although with its teeth firmly implanted in her off white deck shoe, her level of hysteria continued to climb. A few twists and one additional kick to the beast’s face and she was temporarily free.
Mason quickly looked her over and noticed the small trail of blood that ran from her neck and then disappeared into her cream colored blouse. Standing between Eleanor and her attacker, he forced the Feeder back to the ground and slammed the heel of his right boot down onto the monster’s skull. Three quick powerful blows and the fight was over.
He helped Eleanor to her feet and moved her away from the advancing horde, as Randy fought off three Feeders of his own. With Sean and Savannah joining the battle and with them, four additional weapons, the odds began to sway in their favor. Sean handed Mason a pistol and moved off with Eleanor back in the direction they’d come.
Returning to the others, Megan slid in behind Randy. She handed him the pistol, moved to the left and covered her ears. He used his right sleeve to wipe free the blood splatter limiting his vision and let go three quick rounds.
Randy pointed back to Building One. “Megan… go. You and Savannah get the others back inside.”
“But there’s no way—”
“Just go.” He moved in behind Mason and motioned for Savannah to follow Megan.
Thinning the crowd by another two, her weapon now locked back and empty, Savannah readily agreed. She turned and ran, catching Sean, Eleanor, and Megan at the rear door to Building One.
Standing at the threshold, the foursome turned and watched as Mason and Randy marched forward.
No less than twenty downed Feeders littered the yard. Seven more moved slowly toward them, although none faster than a slow crawl. They readied their weapons for one final push as Mason rolled his neck to the left and then the right. He stretched the stiffness from between his shoulders and as the small gathering parted, the source of the intrusion became clear.
“The gate,” Mason said.
The six by twenty-foot cast iron barrier, slightly askew and twisting inward, wailed under the force of the horde. More emaciated and decaying corpses than he could count were pushed together between the block wall and the shifting iron.
Feeders continued to slowly pour in through the unhinged gate as Mason and Randy moved in. They began by eliminating the creatures at the center and clearing a path to the gate. Mason hurried in and laid out the last few creatures still inside the gate, and then moved on and took down another four beyond the wall.
Turning to Randy and stopping at the gate he said, “It’s just unhinged… help me get these things off the gate. We have less than two minutes before that group at the treeline make their way over here.”
Checking for any remaining Feeders in the yard, Randy slid the pistol into his waistband and moved to the gate. He leaned in and pulled out two motionless Feeders that were stuck between the wall and the gate. “We’re good,” he said.
The pair moved into position and squatted down. They dug their heels into the soft ground cover, pushed the cumbersome barrier back into place and again secured the rear entrance.
After testing its strength, Randy slowly stepped away as Mason started back toward the buildings. “Uh… Mason, don’t we need to lock—”
Without turning, Mason said, “Leave it; I need to get some tools first.”
“But, it doesn’t look broken.”
Mason stopped walking and turned around. “It is, trust me and I’m going to need your help. Let’s go.”
“Why is he talking to me like I’m stupid? The gate is fine.” Randy furrowed his brow, shook his head and started back toward the building.
159
They crossed the courtyard in silence, each alone with their thoughts and only the sound of the wind kicking through the upper reaches of the massive pines to create a distraction. Both men walked at an increased pace, although neither looked forward to what awaited them inside. Mason reached the building first and although the door was still open, the hallway leading back inside was empty.
Standing at the door and blinking into the darkened hall, Mason spoke without looking at Randy. “Get everyone into the kitchen; we’ve got company.”
Looking back at Mason, Randy raised an eyebrow and held his right hand over his weapon.
“Hold on,” Mason said. “I don’t expect them to come at us just yet. We’ve got time.”
Closing the door, Mason glanced back at the rear gate before turning and moving into the Command Center. “Sean,” he said. “I need you in here for a minute.”
Hitting one of the keys on the main computer, Mason brought it to life. He waited as Sean ran past the front window and turned the corner into the room. Before he had a chance to speak, the younger man, clearly out of breath, needed to get it out. “Mason… Eleanor was scratched behind her ear pretty good.”
“So, what does that mean?”
“My dad is checking her out right now, although he says we at least need to be aware of it.”
“You have to be kidding me; it’s not transmitted that way… right?”
“I don’t know,” Sean said. “My dad says he’s seen it happen a few times, but only on really deep scratches.”
“Okay, lock this place down… and I mean everything—every last door, in every last building. Once you’re done, meet us in the kitchen.”
“Will do.”
Mason was already out the door and headed toward The Cage.
Passing Randy, Savannah, and Megan, no one made eye contact and as they moved around him and into the kitchen, Mason said, “I’ll meet you there in a few.”
He continued down the hall and beyond the lounge. Rounding the last corner and looking though the laminated glass of Lockwood’s makeshift lab, his knees began to cave. Pushing down the urge to vomit, he slammed both fists into the glass. “What the hell are you doing?”
Pushing through the door, he pointed toward the table. “Get her off there, she’s fine. Don’t make me ask you twice.” Moving in beside Eleanor, Mason pulled at the leather straps binding her to the table. “Eugene, I’m beginning
to lose my patience with you. If you’re not second guessing every single step I make here, you don’t seem to have a purpose. Take her off this table before you make me do something I’ll regret.”
Stepping away from his work, Lockwood held a syringe in his right hand. “Mason, why don’t you go wait with the others, there really isn’t time for this.”
“Strapping her to this table without checking—”
Eleanor turned to her son-in-law, twisting under the restrains as she reached for his hand. The tears still rolling down her cheek and the heaving of her chest beginning to subside, she took a deep breath. “Mason, this wasn’t his idea. I realize what may have happened to me and as a precaution, I asked him to do this. I’m sorry.”
He gripped her hand tightly and leaned over, whispering into her ear. “You’re gonna be alright, I’m not letting anything happen to you. I promise.”
“Thank you sweetheart, but I need to do this.”
As Mason moved away, the automatic door locks snapped to life. Turning to Lockwood, he spoke slowly and deliberately. “Take off the restrains and do what you have to do. I’m sorry, but this just looks bad. And please, stay in here with the doors locked.”
Lockwood continued with his preparations before looking out through the window and down the hall. “What’s going on, why’d you call the others into the kitchen? Is there something we need to know about?”
“I think there’s someone out beyond the walls.”
“Someone… or is it something? And haven’t you had this same premonition multiple times in the last few months?”
Shaking his head, Mason started for the door. “Just take care of her, and stay put. You good with that Doc?”
He ignored the question. “I doubt she’s been infected,” Lockwood said. “These were just a precaution, she wanted it and I wasn’t about to argue. She’ll be fine… just go and do whatever you need to do.”