“If we want to live, we break the pattern. Otherwise, it’s only a matter of time before we miss something and one of us gets snapped up.” As he finished, he took a step away from the window. After a moment of contemplation, Rico did the same. Coming up with another plan was something easier said than done, especially when they had so little light to see. If they really were going to find a way around this, then they had their work cut out for them.
Natalie couldn’t deny that BJ had a point, though. Somebody was after them, and they’d had traps set up well ahead of time. It looked like they were trying to keep people from making it to the outpost, and if that were true, there were likely many more pitfalls ahead of them if they kept to this path. A surge of bitter frustration reared its ugly head as Natalie considered their options
No matter what they knew or suspected, finding another route to take wasn’t going to suddenly become possible. If their antagonist had thought this far ahead, there was the distinct possibility that they would have sealed off any alternatives well before Natalie and the others had even arrived here.
The alley was surrounded on three sides by solid walls. The only exits were to the street that all but guaranteed certain death, or through the window into who knows what other devices. Natalie shivered as another stereotype entered her mind, her gaze dropping to the ground in search of a sewer entrance.
She was almost surprised when she didn’t find it. A jaunt through the underground was about the only thing that would have made Natalie feel more uneasy, so she was thankful it wasn’t an option they’d be able to explore. Or at least, she would have been, if BJ hadn’t chosen that moment to speak again.
“The only way forward is back. We take the street.” His words didn’t register in Natalie’s mind at first, and while it was too dark to see clearly, Rico’s outline had frozen in place. Even Marco took an uncertain step toward BJ, as if to hear him better.
In unison, the crew looked out the alleyway, trying to grasp exactly what BJ was suggesting. Rico’s head was shaking slowly back and forth again; a sign Natalie had come to recognize as his expression of extreme discomfort. She opened her mouth to protest BJ’s newest game plan, but Marco had beat her to it.
“That’s a really bad idea, B.” It was a significantly tamer response than the one Natalie had in mind, but the flatness in Marco’s tone did convey the sense of disbelief they had at what they’d heard. When BJ turned his attention to the young man, the only response Marco had to give was a half-hearted shrug. There was nothing else to say; it was a bad idea.
Natalie wasn’t sure what she expected of BJ now, whether it would be a hard response to put them in their place or grim silence, but she was convinced she’d hold her ground. Avoiding the road behind them wasn’t an act of fear or paranoia; the sheer number of alerted hunters they would need to avoid was staggering. Going forward might lead them to more traps, but she couldn’t help feeling that their survival odds were higher if they took the risk.
Slowly, BJ set down his pack, reaching inside to dig for something. A moment later he drew it out, but Natalie wasn’t able to make out what it was. It almost looked like a drum, round and flat on one side, and the idea sent a spark of apprehension down Natalie’s spine. Was he searching for something he could use to distract the dead? It wouldn’t surprise her if BJ decided to take the road of the martyr, but she wasn’t about to go along with that plan.
“If I’m right about the window being trapped, then I have a plan. If I’m wrong, we’ll still be safe.” Natalie’s nerves were on edge even as BJ began to explain his actions. He was setting the drum-like object down, facing it out toward the street, and a brief shine on its surface revealed what it was: a portable emergency light. Knowing what it was did little to explain to Natalie what BJ had in mind.
“I’d bet money that if we try to go inside this building, we’re going to set off an alarm or similar noisemaker. Here’s what we’re going to do: Marco, Natalie, you’re going to wait at the back of the alley. Rico, you’re going to take the spotlight. I’m going to trigger whatever we’ve got in store for us, and then I’m going to move behind the light. As soon as I do, Rico, turn it on.” Even as BJ spoke, Natalie felt another pang of uncertainty. She shook it from her mind, determined to at least hear the rest of BJ’s plan out. He’d earned more than enough of her respect to grant that.
“The enemy won’t investigate the light if I’m right about there being an alarm. They’ll rush inside the building to search, and the spotlight will torch their ability to see us in the dark. Once they’re in, we take the road again.” Even as BJ spoke, Marco knocked at Natalie’s shoulder and took his place at the alley’s back wall. Rico settled down at the spotlight, and seeing no other choice, Natalie did as she was told and joined Marco.
There were a dozen things that could go wrong, but this did seem to be their best shot at escaping with their lives. She only hoped that their mysterious trapmaster hadn’t accounted for this possibility. Considering how ludicrous the whole idea sounded to Natalie, she had to guess that this move was unpredictable, but there was only one way to find out.
BJ found his way to the window, and Natalie braced herself for action. With surprising grace, the burly man hurled the window open and leapt into cover behind the spotlight. Just as he had suggested, a trumpeting blare echoed out from within, and Rico hit the lights.
Natalie was nearly forced to close her eyes at the sight in front of her. The spotlight was powerful, and with the illumination it granted to the rushing horde of undead ahead of her, there was no room left to her imagination. Every scrap of rotten skin hanging from their bodies, every festering wound or mangled grin, all of it was brought into perfect definition.
Accompanying it was a foul palette of overwhelming scents: blood, sweat, rot, bile and excrement. It was impossible to define them all, and every time Natalie began to ignore a particularly putrid sensation, another took its place. She needed to get out, escape and get fresh air, but she was forced to wait it out, to suffer through this twisted cavalcade.
Natalie felt her stomach begin to heave, her mind straining to resist her body’s demand to purge her system. This is too much. This is all too fucking much. I can’t. I can’t do this. Tears had started to roll down her cheeks, and in the midst of her breakdown, she was barely able to notice that their plan was working.
It was going exactly as BJ had said, but as Natalie started to sink deeper into her own anxiety, a sudden explosion jarred her back to reality. It had come from within the building and only served to entice the ravening mob further, although the alarm had died immediately afterward.
It took only a couple of minutes before the street appeared to be clear, but it felt like an eternity. Another bomb? What the Hell are we even up against? BJ lunged forward, quickly snapping up the spotlight and shoving it back into his pack. Natalie was inclined to follow his lead; escape first, then contemplate how royally fucked they actually were later.
The building was rattling with noise from the undead inside, but they’d only made it five steps back onto the road when Natalie heard a sound from nearby, her head cocking automatically to see if she could catch something else. She tried to convince herself that it was just her senses playing tricks on her, but she could have sworn she’d heard someone giggle. If the others had picked up on it, they didn’t show any concern, and she was forced to return her attention to their journey as BJ rapidly plowed ahead.
They were moving nearly at a sprint once again, and Natalie was expecting another death trap at any second. Turn after turn, she followed behind, ready for the next alarm or detonation to throw her off balance.
She’d totally lost track of the time as the adrenaline took over, so when they rounded a corner and were immediately blinded by massive floodlights, she expected the worst.
Instead, it was a burst of triumphant laughter from Rico that first told her they had finally made it. The outpost was here, and judging by the quick exchange of words from BJ and th
e guards at the lights, it was still standing.
It almost felt like a dream. The gate ahead creaked open just enough to usher them inside, and then she was being escorted into a booth by a grim-faced soldier. BJ and the others were each separated into their own, and Natalie felt suddenly naked without them by her side.
As soon as they were inside the security checkpoint, her escort noticed the scratches and cuts that Natalie had gotten when the grenade went off at the apartments. He didn’t seem particularly alarmed, which struck her as being a good sign. He gestured for Natalie to remove her pack and weapons, snatching them up as soon as she had complied. Natalie found herself surprised; being without BJ and the others had been uncomfortable, but only now did she truly feel vulnerable.
“Strip. Now.” The soldier shifted his position and handed her gear over to another man who appeared to be a clerk of some kind. His eyes never left Natalie as he gave the order for her to disrobe, a slow knot forming in her stomach. She paused for a moment, caught off-guard by the sudden command, still trying to process that any of this was even real.
“I said strip. All the way down. We need to make sure you’re not infected, and that means a physical.” The soldier spoke with a gruff authority, and the reasoning made sense, but something about the way he was watching her made Natalie’s skin crawl. Slowly, she removed her mouth wrap and gloves, feeling an ever-growing discomfort.
The clerk, who had been charged with going through her belongings, had paused with his job and had joined in watching her now. Natalie’s cheeks flushed red, and the soldier beside her grew annoyed at her hesitation.
Without warning, he stepped forward, moving to forcibly remove her jacket. Out of reflex, Natalie backhanded him with a growl and took a step back. It might not have been the wisest thing to do, but she wasn’t about to let this asshole undress her. The briefly stunned guard started to snarl something when BJ entered the booth.
“What’s going on here?” His voice was calm, but it carried with it a distinct undertone of displeasure. It was not a note that boded well for the people within the room. For her part, Natalie shook her head in greater frustration, annoyed at how quickly a simple procedure had gone south.
“I was about to do the physical to prove I’m not infected, and he decided I wasn’t undressing fast enough.” Natalie’s words came through clenched teeth. It was bad enough being treated like a bag of meat, but for some reason, the fact that BJ had so casually barged in while she was undressing bothered her more than anything. Her fury faded quickly as she noticed the sudden ice-cold demeanor that BJ had adopted.
“...physical?” He cocked his head at the clerk before roughly gesturing for him to leave. The man paled, abandoning his post without hesitation, and then Natalie saw how white the guard’s face suddenly looked. Slow and intimidating, BJ took another stride forward, his gaze burning a hole into the now-quivering soldier beside her.
“That’s funny. Sarah says the new tabs work perfectly fine, and that you just got a whole new box, to boot.” Natalie started to ask for an explanation when BJ reached into a bin resting on a nearby table, pulling a small stick from it that resembled an old disposable thermometer from her school days. He handed it to her, his eye contact never wavering from the soldier.
“Rub this on one of your cuts, and tell me what color it turns on the other side.” Without hesitation, she did as she was told, tracing one of the wounds on her arm delicately with the strange item. This was not a side of BJ she was accustomed to seeing, and it was one she would be perfectly happy to never deal with again. Glancing at the tab, she noticed it had turned a delicate shade of pink on the reverse side.
“It’s, uh… it’s pink.” Natalie’s eyes darted between the two men, BJ now towering over the guard who looked as though he were trying to melt down into the floor. With his signature rumbling drawl, BJ spoke.
“Pink means healthy. Take your gear and go, but leave your shotgun. The boys are outside waiting for you.” His words came polite, and if it weren’t for the rising air of pressure in the room, she could almost have mistaken them for a suggestion rather than an order. As it stood, she was not so foolish nor so brave as to argue. She gathered her pack and holster before stepping outside without another word.
Immediately, the sense of impending violence began to clear, and she glanced uncomfortably behind her. No noise was coming from the tent, though Natalie wasn’t sure if that was more or less unsettling than the alternative. Before she had an opportunity to dwell on it further, a familiar voice called out to her.
Rico had appeared at her side with a significantly cheerier Marco behind him, the two of them clearly oblivious to the events that had just taken place. Rico briefly gave her a curious half-smile, likely noticing her strange attitude, before tapping at her wrist and gesturing for her to follow. At that, he noticed the holstered pistol held loosely in her hand.
“Keep that out of sight while you’re in the camp.” Rico whispered the words, but that didn’t stop Marco from chiming in with an off-hand, “It’s true, cute girl with a gun might scare off any chances at getting some action.”
Natalie felt sick from her encounter with the guard, and Marco’s foolish machismo only reinforced her anxiety, but the feeling was briefly set aside by apprehension as she got her first good look at the outpost that would be her home.
It was poorly lit, though she quickly realized many lights were simply off, a suggestion that they were likely conserving their resources. There were a large number of downtrodden people moving along pathways between buildings, giving the area a claustrophobic and hopeless feeling that was only exacerbated by the dim illumination.
Worse, walkways crisscrossed overhead, traversed by heavily armed guards that watched the crowds below with disturbing intensity. The camp felt more like a prison than anything else, but it was better than the alternative. Taking the role of her tour guide, Rico echoed her thoughts.
“The post is divided into two rings. Right now, we’re in the outer section, reserved for those people who haven’t been processed yet. It’s not great, but you’re better off here than outside.” He waved his hand toward a large group of men and women huddled around some kind of makeshift checkpoint ahead of them.
“To get into the inner ring, you’ve got to go through processing, which basically means they check your body and mind for stability, guess what job you’d be best at, and then put you to work.” Natalie nodded along with his explanation, though she did notice that the checkpoint appeared to be overflowing with refugees. It didn’t seem likely that these people would be allowed inside any time soon. Abruptly, Marco decided to add his own two cents to the conversation.
“See up there? All the sour lookin’ guys with way too much firepower? Security. If anybody starts a fight, they start shooting. No checks, no verification, just immediate action.” Marco blew a low whistle at his own words, adopting a Southern drawl as he added, “Never take a chance.” As quickly as the accent came, he discarded it again, smiling at his own cleverness.
“That’s martial law at its finest! Brutal, sure, but hey. In this day and age, you can’t argue the efficiency, and most think it’s necessary. Soldiers never walk the streets; they all sit tight above us, ready to fuck people up if the need arises.” He was chuckling as he spoke, his hands miming the act of firing a rifle repeatedly, and Natalie quickly remembered why she didn’t much care for him.
Though, after noticing his sudden reversion of character, Natalie did feel a small amount of relief. He’d made it through the checkpoint, which meant he wasn’t infected, after all. They had survived, all of them. If that meant dealing with Marco’s annoying behavior, she’d take it. At least for a little while.
“At any rate, you’re going to want to hit processing. With any luck, you’ll be shoved right on through and out of this shithole.” Marco didn’t bother to lower his voice, and a nearby refugee openly scowled at him as he walked past. Marco casually raised his middle finger in response before con
tinuing on his merry way, drawing an annoyed sigh from Rico.
“Fuck’s sake, cuz, do you always have to be such an asshole to people?” Rico’s frustration matched Natalie’s, but Marco shrugged it off without much care, firing off a lazy retort that set the two to bickering a moment later.
Natalie’s mind wandered back to what Marco had said. She’d have to go through processing, and that meant being evaluated for health and talent. She had no idea what she was going to do for that, and it was starting to bother her. This camp was an improvement from the outside, true, but the thought of staying here so near to the security checkpoint was stressful. She didn’t know what BJ was doing about the guard, but she wasn’t naive enough to believe that it would solve the problem across the board. Feeling flustered again, she butted into the argument.
“Guys, not that I don’t appreciate listening to you two snark at each other, but what am I supposed to do? I’m not exactly brimming with survival skills. About the only thing I’ve ever done is take a CPR and minor first-aid class, and somehow I doubt that’s going to be an impressive résumé.” To her surprise, the cousins managed to put their feud on pause long enough to think over Natalie’s most viable options.
“Well, the docs up at medical always need assistance. Plus, you’ve actually been outside dealing with the dead-heads, and me an’ Rico can back that up. That’s a pretty big vote for your ability.” Marco’s cocky grin was back, which proved more than enough to make Natalie sigh and cradle her head in her hands. Immediately, he added with a chuckle, “Hey, my way is a Helluva lot cheaper than any college recommendation, idn’t it?”
Content that he had delivered the best advice he could, Marco slapped her hard on the back before wandering away into the crowd, heading for the inner ring with a pompous swagger. Rico took the moment to bring her into a brief hug, before adding another healthy smack to her shoulder blades.
The Phoenix Trilogy (Book 1): World On Fire Page 15