Our escape was foiled as someone had closed and bolted shut the two giant metal doors at the end of the corridor. As a group, we slammed into it, but they didn’t open. Rose quickly tried to cycle through the keys on the ring we had lifted off of the guard. I looked around. We were in a waiting area, with a small office with a giant plane of glass allowing people to look in.
“None of these are workin’!” Rose cried out.
“The sick ones are almost at the bend!” Leo added from his post at the corner.
I turned in circles trying to see a way out, but there was none. Unless the metal doors opened, we were trapped. Tough Guy tried body slamming the office door, then gave that up in favor of kicking it down. The door shot open with his last kick, and we all stared at each other, frozen.
“Come on!” He waved us over.
We piled into the small office just as the infected made it around the corner we had come from. The door’s lock was broken thanks to the rough entry, so Tough-guy leaned against it. We watched through the window, as the infected swarmed the small waiting area and began banging on the glass and door. I let out a humorless laugh. We were really up shit creek now.
Chapter 9
“Shit, shit, shit,” Rose muttered to herself.
The keys jangled in her hand as she fidgeted. Thankfully, she hadn’t dropped the keys—not that we could use them at the moment.
“This is what we get for followin’ a cripple,” the tough guy said as he strained against the door he was keeping closed.
I shot him a look telling him to shut up, then turned to face George. I held out my hand for the map and he placed the pocket book in my hand. After flipping to the back, I realized his map didn’t reflect the double metal doors we had run into. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t really begrudge George. After all, he had drawn the schematics off of memory alone. But it was still really disappointing.
The door groaned and the big guy was shoved forward. Leo quickly ran and slammed against the door to help keep it closed. Hands scraped and banged along the glass, sending me back to the time we were in Wal-Mart and the infected had burst through the two sets of glass doors and we were powerless to stop them. At least in here, they would have to somehow climb over half the wall to get through the glass window.
“What do we do?” Leo asked.
I threw my hands in the air, the metal frame piece in my hand hitting the roof. “I don’t fucking know!”
Instead of staring at me, their gazes were all on the roof. The metal rod had lifted up one of the roof panels.
“Think it’ll hold us?” Tough Guy asked.
I set down my bedframe piece and grabbed the desk chair, rolling it underneath the exposed panel. George held onto the back of the chair to stop me from rolling away as I climbed up. My head poked through the opening and dust instantly assailed me. I had to crouch back down to hack up the particles in my lungs until my eyes watered. Using my shirt, I covered my mouth and nose and tried again.
Without the main lights on, I couldn’t see a thing. I reached up and tried to use the beams to hold myself up to test how much weight they could take. When I didn’t come falling down, I lifted myself higher, but I didn’t have the upper body strength to lift my entire body that way. My arms gave out and I crashed back down on the chair, almost falling off as the chair swiveled from the impact. George gave me an apologetic look.
“Give me a boost,” Rose demanded as she shoved the chair out of the way.
George and I kneeled, each taking one of her feet. Together we heaved and lifted Rose up like a couple of cheerleaders doing a routine. Rose was small, so it wasn’t so much of a strain. If we had to do this for the big guy, I didn’t think we would get him very far. The weight we were holding eased up as Rose crawled into the space above the roof tiles. She peered down at us through the panel opening.
She teetered back and forth as she tested her weight. “Seems okay. Can’t see worth a shit, though.”
Gunfire, closer than before, echoed over the sound of the infected outside the office. We needed to get gone right now.
“Push that desk over,” Tough Guy commanded.
George and I dragged the heavy desk over to the door. We shoved it as close as we could while Leo and Tough Guy’s bodies were still bracing the door.
“One, two, three!”
On three, we pushed the desk up against the door just as they moved out of the way. It opened a couple of inches from the pushing on the other side, but was quickly closed as we got the desk in place.
“This won’t hold for long.” Tough Guy stated the obvious.
His words were emphasized with more automatic gunfire. If they found us in here, we would be easily picked off—if they got past the horde of infected, that is.
“Lift me first and I can help pull you guys up,” he said.
It took the three of us to push the big guy up to the ceiling panels. His legs flailed as if he was swimming as he shimmied into the small space. He couldn’t kneel like Rose was, so he stayed on his stomach and lowered an arm.
Next, Leo and I hoisted George up. He was suspended between the ceiling and the floor when gunfire started outside the office. I let out a yelp as a bullet pierced the office window, and Leo and I ducked instinctively. They hadn’t gotten a good grip on George, so he came crashing down with us. He landed with an “Oomph,” on top of us. I groaned in pain from the impact. George may not have been big, but it still hurt.
Automatic fire continued, spraying the window with blood and holes. We crawled under the desk braced against the door and pushed it over to use like a shield. The gunfire seemed to be concentrated at eye level, not floor, so I hoped they didn’t start shooting randomly. A door and desk could only hold so much.
Finally, the glass gave way and shards fell to the ground. A couple of dead infected slumped over, impaling themselves on the larger, still attached glass around the edges of the window. Blood ran down the wall underneath the window, pooling and spreading like it was still searching for us.
The gunfire had stopped and I let out the breath I had been holding, only to suck it back in when I heard people speaking. My ears were ringing from the spray of bullets and my blood pounding like a drum, so I couldn’t even make out if it was a female or male voice, just that there were words being spoken. Leo jerked a finger toward the bedframe piece in the middle of the room. I shook my head. They would see us for sure if someone moved right now to get it. I was hoping that whoever was out there would keep moving now that they had taken out the horde.
He licked his lips and ignored me as he dove for it. I grabbed at his shirt as he moved, trying to hold him back. He swatted my hand and turned to mouth, “Let go.” I mouthed back, “No.” Even George was shaking his head and had latched onto Leo’s leg to drag him back. Leo gave up and slunk back to our hiding space, his chin jutting out. Please move on. I snuck a peek at the roof, but Rose and Tough Guy were nowhere to be seen.
My heart lurched as the voices got closer. Please go away, please go away. I squeezed my eyes closed, not wanting to see my death coming. Leo’s hand found mine and he latched onto it, gripping it tight. After everything, was this how I would end up going out? It seemed so … unfair. I’m sure that’s how most people felt when staring imminent death in the face.
“Ho-ly shit, Bailey!”
Chapter 10
My body refused to move at first as my brain processed the voice I had just heard. “John?” I got up and my eyes landed on that familiar, worn cowboy hat and a face I’d thought I’d never see again.
John smiled as he stuck his head through the broken office window. “Thank God we found you!”
I took a hesitant step forward. “How?”
“When you went missin’, we knew somethin’ had happened. We questioned”—John’s eyes narrowed—“Wyatt. He eventually caved and told us where you’d been taken.”
Us? I looked further out the destroyed window to see Ethan. I stiffened as he cast me a sorrowful
smile, his rifle pointing at the ground.
“Bailey, I—”
“I don’t want to hear it!” I yelled.
His mouth fell open and he stepped forward, about to say something, but I cut him off again, “Don’t you fucking dare,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “I don’t want to hear your excuses.”
Ethan stopped in his tracks and looked down at the carnage-coated ground. John held up his hand. “Hey, hey, let’s save this for later, okay? We need to get outta here first.”
Ethan must have told John about his betrayal.
“Who’s that?” Rose demanded from the ceiling space.
John’s head flew up to spot Rose’s face poking out of the empty panel space.
“My name’s John, ma’am,” John said as he tipped his hat.
I almost rolled my eyes. John was right, though; we needed to put everything aside so we could escape. Leo and George had gotten up while we were talking and were staring at our saviors.
“How’d you get in?” Leo asked.
“We broke into the basement and shut down the generators, then made our way upstairs,” John said.
“Did you run into any people shooting at you?” I asked. Maybe they had taken out the rest of the guards.
“A few.”
Tough Guy jumped down from the ceiling panels, rolling and swearing as he hit the floor. Leo helped Rose down while George and I removed the desk from the door. Once we opened it, John shouldered his AR-15 and rushed to give me a hug. When we let go, he looked me up and down. “You injured?”
“My foot is.” I left out all the other various sore spots from all the fighting with the guards. I had a nice bruise on my stomach from being kneed by the guard earlier, and I was sure John could see my black eye.
“Can you run?”
I nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have any spare weapons on you, would ya?” Tough Guy interrupted.
“Just the one.”
John pulled a handgun from his waistband and passed it to me. It was my Beretta. I ejected the magazine; it was full.
Tough Guy leaned down and picked up my discarded bedframe piece. “Guess you won’t be needin’ this then.”
“All yours,” I said.
We walked out of the office, jumping over the piles of infected. Amelia’s men must have grabbed a bunch on their last round-up trip. Bet they were regretting that now.
“This way,” John instructed. “We can leave the same way we got in.”
We followed him down the corridor and took another left. The emergency lights were beginning to go out as whatever tiny reserves they were hooked up to ran out.
“We need to go back to the cafeteria and get the others!” Leo said. “We have guns now; we should be able to take out the rest of the infected.”
John looked at me and I nodded. “There were a few more who got separated from us during the escape attempt.”
Never one to leave people behind, John didn’t need to be coaxed into it. Ethan was very unsubtly glancing my way, trying to catch my eye, but I refused to look at him as we made our way back to the cafeteria.
There was a layer of infected trying to get into the cafeteria doors. They must have barricaded the doors because the infected were getting nowhere. John and Ethan raised their weapons, but I held up my hand.
“If you can hear me, move away from the door!” I yelled, hoping they weren’t using themselves to barricade the door like we had to do in the office.
Of course my yelling brought the attention of the infected from getting through the doors to us. One by one, they started towards us, giving up on the cafeteria doors.
“Good job, genius,” Tough Guy muttered.
John and Ethan easily took out the infected with their rifles. When the gunfire stopped and the bodies laid still, we ran to the cafeteria doors.
“It’s us,” Leo said.
A face popped up in the small window and went from terrified to relieved. It was the girl who had stopped mid-escape. Not the smartest choice. We heard rustling from the other side before the double set of black doors opened.
“Thank you for coming for us!” the girl cried and launched herself into Leo’s arms. He patted her back awkwardly before saying, “We gotta keep moving.”
John led the group of us back down the winding corridors to the basement stairs. All of the guards were somewhere else, except for the few that John and Ethan must have shot. There were bullet holes and blood smears across the wall leading to the stairs. It looked like the guards had ambushed them as soon as they got to the top.
Ethan took the lead with a flashlight and descended down the stairs. I made sure everyone had gone through before I took one last look around. One of the doors down the hallway had light peeking underneath. Since all the hospital lights were out, there had to be someone in there with their own light source. I didn’t know how I knew it, but every part of my brain knew it was Amelia in there. And I wasn’t going to leave this place with her still alive.
“Bailey, come on!” John hissed.
I looked back at him. “You guys go on. I’ll catch up.”
The edges around John’s mouth tightened. “You gotta be shittin’ me. We ain’t leavin’ without you after comin’ all this way to get you!” He was less than pleased.
“John, do you think there are some people out there who deserve to die?” I asked. I had to make John understand.
He lowered his gun and adjusted his hat. “I believe there are some, yes. But I also believe we don’t get to make that call.”
It was just like with Byron. I had wanted to kill Byron, but John had wanted to let the town decide what to do with him—to be fair. The thing was, none of this new world was fair. If it was, I wouldn’t be here in this hellish hospital, and all of our dead friends would still be alive. John’s son would be alive. I would be with my family. We wouldn’t have to fight for our lives over and over again. If I could help relieve this world of something evil, then I would. I would make it fair. And nothing was fairer than Amelia dying.
“I listened to you about Byron, but I won’t this time. She has to die,” I said, then bolted down the hallway before John could try to stop me. I got to the door where the light was shining below and twisted the knob.
Inside Amelia was sitting at a desk, staring intently at the framed photo in her hand. There was a giant wind-up flashlight propped up on her desk shining towards the ceiling. She didn’t even look up. I was expecting a fight, so I stood in place, unsure if I could shoot her if she was just sitting docile and unarmed.
“Shouldn’t you be long gone by now?” she said, continuing to peer at the picture.
John appeared behind me, finally making Amelia raise her head. “You’ve come to kill me, yes?”
“What did you expect?” I spat. “You killed Mac and who knows how many more. You’ve imprisoned and tortured the rest of us.” I pointed my gun at her.
She calmly set down the photo on her desk. It was of a young boy in a soccer jersey smiling for the camera. His jet black hair was a little too long and was a perfect match to Amelia’s. She didn’t say anything to counter the accusations. Instead, her hand went to her lap and raised back up with a revolver in it. John shoved me to the side and raised his rifle. I quickly moved out from behind him and re-leveled my gun at her head.
“Now ma’am, there’s no need for this. I’m just gonna take Bailey and leave. No more bloodshed.”
Amelia’s chest deflated as her eyes landed back on the picture. A tear slipped down her bruised face before she opened her mouth and squeezed the trigger. Her head flew back, then her dead body slumped forward landing on the desk, blood leaking onto the framed picture. Both John and I stood frozen as the smell of the discharged revolver and rust filled the small room.
Amelia had seemed so steely and unbending. I wasn’t expecting her to kill herself. I had been expecting a fight. My mouth opened to say something, but I couldn’t remember what I had wanted
to say. All the anger I’d had moments earlier vanished and I now felt worse than I had before. I felt sick—and cheated somehow. She was dead; did it matter at whose hands she had met her death?
“Glad you came back?” John was angry, something I rarely saw.
I didn’t want to fight with him so I just exited the office and went back to the top of the basement stairs. John followed behind me, not saying anything more. We descended the stairs and John clicked on his own flashlight. The others must’ve kept going. John maneuvered around me and led the way. There were no emergency lights on down here, making the flashlight beam our only source of illumination. I bumped into a tin canister, letting out a huff. Like I needed more bruises.
We passed by a giant red tank connected to a bunch of equipment. I sniffed as the smell of gas became overpowering. The floor was coated in the liquid, so I used my shirt to prevent me from inhaling the fumes.
“We cut the main gas line to cut the power,” John explained. “We probably should’ve thought that out better.” He was using his hat to cover the lower part of his face, making his words muffled and hard to hear.
Natural light began to fill the area as we continued on and fresh air pushed out the gasoline smell. We rounded a corner to face a dead-end except for the smashed basement window. I wondered how Tough Guy had fit through.
There was a tin canister propped underneath the window. I climbed up and shoved myself through the small window. I turned around and gave John a hand as he shimmied through. The fresh air was a pleasant relief to my burning lungs. Gas fumes were terrible to breathe in. We stood and peered around, looking for the others. I couldn’t see them, but I could definitely hear Rose and Tough Guy arguing. John and I followed the sound around the corner to see the group flush against the side of the building.
“There they are,” Leo said as we approached the group.
Rose and Tough Guy, who were previously in each other’s faces, now turned to regard us.
Ethan rushed from the front of the group to us. “Where did you guys go?”
This Would Be Paradise (Book 3) Page 7