by R. A. Hakok
Ortiz finally realizes something’s wrong an instant before Hicks starts firing. I’m expecting it but the noise the old gun makes is loud in such a confined space and I jump. The inside of the room reveals itself in a series of flashbulb images. The fury suddenly on top of the X-ray table, lit for an instant by the flare from the muzzle. Dark circles surrounding silvered eyes, thin lips pulled back wide. Sparks fly and a bullet shrieks and whines off the metal where an instant before it was perched. The next time Hicks fires the flash catches it in midair as it launches itself. I think I see the bullet graze its shoulder but it barely seems to notice.
Ortiz has dropped the flashlight and is desperately trying to bring the baton up to ward off the attack, but he’s left it way too late. Long, thin fingers are already clawing at his neck; its teeth snap furiously.
Hicks adjusts his aim and fires one last time, and this time the bullet finds its target. The fury releases its grip and drops to the floor. The burnt stench of gunpowder hangs heavy in the stale air. Hicks steps into the room.
‘Did it get you?’
Ortiz doesn’t respond. He just stares at the thing lying there on the floor, the beam from the discarded flashlight casting ugly red shadows across its contorted features. Hicks grabs him by the shoulder and repeats the question. When he still gets no answer he unsnaps the throat of Ortiz’s parka and pulls the ruff back. A second later his hand falls away. Ortiz finally seems to come back from wherever he’s been. He tears his eyes off the fury and looks up at Hicks.
‘How bad is it, man? Can you fix it?’
Hicks looks for a moment longer and then just shakes his head. Ortiz just nods, once, like he understands.
‘You know I can’t go back, Sarge. Not like this.’
I see Hicks raise a finger to his lips. Without turning around he tells Jax to get me out. But I just stand there, rooted to the spot with fear. The Viking steps in front of me and extends one huge arm. At last I tear my gaze from the fury and allow myself to be shepherded back in the direction of the stairwell. I’ve barely made it half a dozen paces when a single final shot rings out and then it goes quiet again.
*
THE STORM THAT’S been keeping its distance for the last couple of days looks like it’s finally coming our way. It’s still too far off to hear the thunder, but the sky behind us crackles with lightning.
Hicks picks up the pace. There’s no talking and the hike back passes in cold silence. When we finally stop to eat he sits apart and sips from his thermos. I break out an MRE but I’m not hungry and after a few mouthfuls I hand it to Jax.
I wonder if he blames me for what happened to Ortiz. Maybe if I hadn’t frozen when I first saw that thing crawl out from behind the booth he could have been saved. Well even if that’s true there’s nothing I can do about it now. The fact is Ortiz is dead and we have nothing to show for it. It’s already been days since Mags was infected.. The best I can hope for is that the storm will shift course and Hicks will want to take us out again soon.
Only next time it’ll be my turn to step into a darkened room with a baton and wait for one of those things to come at me.
It’s long after dark when we make it back to The Greenbrier. The storm hasn’t switched direction. All afternoon it’s followed us, growing steadily closer, and now the lightning is accompanied by the low rumble of thunder. It’ll be with us tonight, tomorrow morning at the latest.
The tattered flags snap and flutter on their flagpoles as we make our way up to the entrance. We pass under the massive portico and remove our snowshoes. The camera above me blinks as I open the door and step through. A flurry of snowflakes follows me inside.
I take my mittens off and rub my hands together to get some feeling back into my frozen fingers. The emergency lights are on and from somewhere down below I hear the low thrum of a generator. Hicks has already shucked off his backpack and is unzipping his parka. He still hasn’t said a word to me. Well, whether or not he holds me responsible for Ortiz I need something from him now. I undo my boots and bring them over to the bellhop cart.
‘You promised you’d let me see Mags.’
He looks at me for a long moment.
‘Yes, I did.’
He hands me Ortiz’s rifle.
‘Get that cleaned, yours too. I’ll come find you when we’re ready.’
I sling the rifles over my shoulder and head for the dining room. The Viking is already sitting at the table. He looks up from his plate of franks as I walk in. His flat blue stare follows me as I cross the room.
When we first met, Hicks said Jax was harmless. But after what happened in the hospital I’m not so sure. Marv warned me when Peck came for us there’d be no reasoning or pleading with him, and I wonder if it’d be any different with the Viking. I saw the look on his face when Hicks told him to get me out of there, after the fury got Ortiz. It was the same vacant expression I’d pretty much gotten used to. But I think I know how it would have gone if I hadn’t complied.
I go to work, trying not to look over at him. At some point he finishes eating. He stares at me a while longer then gets up and lumbers off in the direction of the door without saying a word. When I’m done with Ortiz’s rifle I start stripping down mine. When they’re both clean I reassemble them and then just sit there and wait.
At last Hicks shows up. He says they’re ready for me. I follow him back through the lobby and then down the long corridor that leads to the Colonial Lounge. When we get to the Exhibition Hall Dr. Gilbey’s already there. She turns around and gives me a tight-lipped smile. Behind her the screen’s been pulled back. The emergency lamp bolted to the wall above it flickers, casting the alcove behind in intermittent shadow. I can see the vault door’s open, but little beyond. I start to cross the hall to join her but she holds up one hand.
‘That’s far enough, Gabriel.’
She turns back towards the entrance to the bunker.
‘You can bring her out now, Corporal.’
Hicks puts a gloved hand on my arm.
‘Prepare yourself, son. They’ve had to bind her.’
At first there’s nothing and then I hear a shuffling coming from the darkness and for an instant all I can think is that it’s the same sound the fury that was stalking me in Mount Weather’s tunnel made. The footsteps grow steadily louder until eventually something steps out of the shadows.
Her head’s been shaved, her almost-black hair a stubbled furze. A strip of duct tape covers her mouth and there’s a thin plastic noose around her neck. She’s wearing dark overalls that seem several sizes too big for her. The cuffs are rolled up and her hands are held together at her waist, like they’ve been cable-tied there. There are more plastic restraints binding her ankles.
Her eyes scan the room for a second before they find me. There are worrying shadows there but when she turns her head I can see the pupils are dark, just like they’ve always been.
She continues to shuffle forward until she clears the door and then she stops and Truck steps out from behind her. The noose around her neck’s attached to a long pole, the kind of device you might see being used to round up strays for the pound. Truck’s gripping the other end with both hands, his tongue working the wad of tobacco that’s tucked behind his lip. He glances over at me and I think I catch a trace of a smile, like maybe this is a show he’s glad he got tickets for.
I look back at Mags.
‘Are you okay?’
She nods, once, a terse gesture.
I turn to Hicks.
‘Take the tape off. I want to talk to her.’
Hicks’ eyes never leave her. His voice remains calm but the tips of his fingers don’t stray far from the pistol on his hip.
‘Can’t do that son.’
Mags’ eyes flick over to Hicks then back to me, like she’s trying to work something out.
‘How… how did it happen?’
It seems like a stupid question, but it’s the only one I can think of right now.
Dr. Gilbey slips h
er hands into the pockets of her lab coat and turns to face me.
‘Well, I blame myself, of course, Gabriel. It was an unforgivable error.’ She shakes her head, but it’s a brusque gesture, sterile and unconvincing. ‘I asked Magdalene to remain in the dormitory, but I didn’t think to lock her in there. I thought she could be trusted not to wander off. After I had gone to sleep she must have taken it upon herself to explore.’
I look back at Mags. The expression on her face hasn’t changed but I recognize that look in her eyes. She’s furious. She glances over at Hicks, like she’s checking whether he’s still watching. Her eyes switch back to me one last time and for a second she holds my gaze, like she’s trying to tell me something. Then without warning she throws herself forward towards Dr. Gilbey. It happens so fast she catches Truck by surprise.
For all his size he recovers quickly. He yanks the pole back towards him and then lifts it up. I see the noose tighten around her neck; her head jerks backwards and she’s forced onto her toes, her feet scrabbling for purchase on the marble tiles. The muscles along Truck’s arms bunch as he hoists her up and I hear him grunt with the effort of it but he holds her there and in that moment I know I would kill him if I had the means. I take a step forward but I make no more than that. Something grabs my arm and in the same instant I feel a pressure against my thigh and then the room’s spinning around me; the next thing I know I’m lying on my back staring up at the Exhibition Hall’s featureless ceiling. I try to get up but Hicks has a knee on my chest, pinning me there. For someone so thin he’s surprisingly strong. He fixes me with a stare from his one good eye while he barks an order at Truck to set Mags down. Truck hesitates for a second and then lowers the pole. She drops to her knees, gasping for breath.
If Dr. Gilbey is shaken by this she doesn’t show it. She slowly removes her hands from the pockets of her lab coat and folds them across her chest. She nods at Truck.
‘Take her back inside Corporal.’
Hicks looks up for a second.
‘Gently, Truck.’
He lifts the pole and Mags gets unsteadily to her feet. She manages one last glance in my direction before she’s herded back through the door and in that second our eyes meet and I nod.
The emergency lights flicker, like they might go out, then steady. Hicks watches the door for a second more then looks back down at me.
‘If I let you up will you be calm?’
I nod and a moment later I feel a weight lifted from my chest as he stands. He holds out a gloved hand to help me up.
‘Now I know today was rough. That was to be expected, your first time and all. But you can’t give up. She needs you now, son. And trust me, it’ll get easier.’
I nod again, so he’ll think I’m listening, but the truth is I’m not. I know what I have to do now, and it doesn’t involve following him into another hospital to look for one of those things that attacked Ortiz. I need to be by myself to work this through, though. I glance over at Dr. Gilbey and then back at him.
‘How soon can we go out again?’
*
THE GIRL HAS BEEN GONE for some time now but still the scent lingers.
It was worse before.
After the doctor left she sat quietly for a while. Then without warning she leaned back and kicked the bars. He had been worried she was going to bring the mean soldier down again, but she only did it once, and afterwards she went to the back of her cage and sat there for a long time without moving. When she finally stirred it was only to reach for the food tray and he had been happy then because he thought maybe she was going to eat something. But all she took was the plastic spoon. He saw her wipe it on her overalls and a little while later he thought he heard a sound like plastic splintering.
It was shortly after that he smelled it. Faint at first, fainter than when the soldier had hurt his elbow right in front of his cage, but growing stronger with every passing minute. He felt the now familiar knot in his stomach, felt it begin to twist, to gnaw at his insides. He pushed himself all the way to the back of his cage and covered his face with his hands to try and shut it out. It was no use though. The scent was still there; it slipped between his fingers, filling his nostrils, sliding down the back of his throat until he could almost taste it. There was no way to escape it.
It had been a relief when the soldier had come to take her away.
He had watched as she had put on the restraints. She had glared at the soldier when he had slid the catchpole into the cage but in the end she had let him slip the noose over her head and bring her out. She had been a little unsteady on her feet at first, but the soldier had been in a hurry and had pushed her forward. She had struggled to keep her balance with her ankles bound, and at one point as the soldier had led her towards the door he had heard her stumble and the soldier had cursed. It had taken her a long time to climb the stairs.
Now he hears footsteps again and he knows she is returning. She descends very slowly, but then finally he hears the click as the locks disengage and then the door opens and moments later there’s the soft shuffle of her feet on the concrete as she approaches. The beam from the soldier’s flashlight bounces ahead of them down the aisle. It seems brighter than it was earlier, and he screws his eyes shut against it. The footsteps stop in front of his cage and there’s the sound of the latch being sprung and the door opening. The scent returns, thankfully fainter now than it was before. He opens his eyes a fraction, just in time to see the soldier’s face appearing at the bars. He reaches into the breast pocket of his fatigues, pulls out a container of the medicine and tosses it in.
‘Here, take that while I sort her out.’
Johnny 99 shuffles forward and collects the medicine while the soldier manhandles the girl into her cage. After what happened the other day he’s taking no chances. He keeps a tight hold on the pole so that her head’s pulled back against the bars while he undoes the restraint that loops around her waist. Then he lifts the noose over her head and slides it out and latches the door closed. The girl raises her cuffed hands to her neck and rubs there.
The soldier squats down in front of her cage. He reaches into his pocket and takes out another container of the medicine.
‘Now before I give you this I think you owe old Truck here an apology for all the trouble you’ve been causing.’
The girl stares at the container. It reminds Johnny 99 he has to take his own medicine, or the soldier will be mad at him. He unscrews the cap and raises the vial to his lips, bracing himself for the bitter taste.
The girl shakes her head.
‘I wonder what’s going to happen to you, Corporal, if you have to go back to the doctor and tell her you couldn’t get me to take my medicine again? Seems like having someone down here is important to her.’ She looks up at the roof of the cage, only inches above her head. ‘I wonder how someone like you would fit in one of these.’
But the soldier just smiles and returns the container to his pocket.
‘Oh darlin’, I ain’t going to tell the Doc any such thing. This time my report’ll say you drank it all down.’
Johnny 99 looks at the container the soldier’s just given him. That’s twice the girl will have missed her medicine. He searches his cage for the plastic cup his water comes in and quickly transfers half the contents of the vial to it. He pushes the cup into the shadows behind him.
The soldier nods at the cuffs on the girl’s wrists and ankles as he gets to his feet.
‘And you can stay in those for a while. Might teach you some manners.’
He turns around to face the boy and bangs the bars with the toe of his boot.
‘You done in there yet?’
The boy makes a show of draining what remains in the plastic container and then places it near the front of his cage and backs away. Without water to wash it away the bitter metallic taste is overpowering. He presses his lips tight together and concentrates on not returning what he’s just swallowed to the floor of his cage. The soldier doesn’t seem to notice. He r
ummages in his pocket for a Ziploc bag, wraps it around his hand and uses it to pick up the spent vial. He holds it up to the flashlight to check it’s empty then presses the seal closed and stands. The beam recedes as he makes his way back down the aisle. The door opens with a soft groan and then there’s a click as the locks engage, followed seconds later by the distant sound of boots on metal as he starts to climb the stairs.
The boy waits a long time after the last footstep’s faded to silence. When he’s sure the soldier isn’t coming back he picks up the cup and slides it out between the bars, inching it across the concrete with his fingertips. If he lies down and stretches out he can get it almost halfway across the space between the cages. When he can push it no further he pulls his arm back through the bars and whispers to the girl to let her know what he’s done. She lies on the floor of her cage like he did and slips her hands out through the bars. Her arms are longer than his and so the cup should be within her grasp, but her wrists are still cuffed together, which limits her reach. And he almost forgets that she can’t see either; the first time she manages to get her fingertips to it she almost knocks it over. He shuffles to the front of his cage and whispers directions. She pulls her hands back through the bars, adjusts her position and tries again. This time her fingers wrap around the plastic and she pulls it back in.
He watches as she lifts the cup to her lips and drinks the medicine. When she’s done she bends over to retch and for a moment the boy thinks she will be sick and it will all have been for nothing. But then it passes and she leans back and runs her fingers around the inside of the cup. When she’s extracted the last of whatever’s there she sets it down and looks out through the bars. She still can’t see in the darkness, so she’s not looking right at him when she says it, but it doesn’t matter. She whispers thank you, that she won’t forget it.