Chapter Eight— Trapped in Shadows
"This way!" Josh called, turning at the intersection. They had managed to leave behind the massive group that had seemed to materialize out of thin air well behind, but they hadn't managed to stay in the clear completely. There was still plenty of undead left to go around. They stood idly on the streets, staring at nothing; they feasted on the surplus of flesh that littered the streets. One of the idlers noticed Josh and turned towards the drummer. He waited until he was in an easy shooting distance and fired one shot. That was all it took to send the zombie back to the ground.
We have to make it! Josh thought determinedly. We have to!
There was a destination engraved in his mind, and he intended to bring everyone with him, alive that is. As far as Josh was concerned, there was only one place in Raccoon City that mattered, the Lux Cher Hotel. It stood to reason that the hotel would provide a safe haven of sorts. The zombies couldn't handle stairs, making it easy to out maneuver them, and there were fire escapes should anything go awry and they have to leave. Then there was the most important thing in Josh's mind: there was food and beds. If they could get out of the streets for the night, they could decide what to do in the day. The light would be a welcome sight for all of them.
xXxXx
Terry huffed and puffed his way after Josh. The drummer was moving with a purpose, but Terry was falling behind. It was because of his damned chest. The scratch that woman had left back at the theatre had turned into something nasty.
The wounds themselves were flaring red with infection, and a strange pus-like-goo leaked out. Not to mention there was this insatiable itch that would never leave. It had started from the scratches but it had managed to make its way up towards his shoulders. There were other strange symptoms too— light nausea, headaches, and shortness of breath. They hadn't even run a block, yet Terry's lungs were burning as if heated by searing coals.
Terry's mind kept turning to all the horror movies he had watched. Wasn't one of the staples that when bitten by a werewolf or vampire you would in turn become one of them? The same went for zombies. The evil was passed on from victim to victim, turning all who touched its vile hand into the living dead. Terry wasn't sure of this, but it was a strong hypothesis of his. After all, he had already seen it tonight.
He had seen the truth back at the theatre, but he hadn't realized what had occurred until now. There had been the man sitting at the bar next to Terry. He had been alive, but somehow he had died. When that had happened he had only risen back up again, craving the taste of human flesh. From the looks of it, the man had died from some sort of disease.
The same disease that is now flowing through me, Terry surmised.
However, at this point, it was impossible for him to know. All he was doing was making guesses, random shots into the dark. But what if he was right? What would he do if he turned into a zombie and killed everyone with him?
You could kill yourself, a tiny voice whispered into his mind. It was a cold, chilling thought, but perhaps there was truth in that statement. He would at least die as a man; he would die with honor. He also had the tools to accomplish this feat. A bullet to the brain would be enough to end his life, but take the sickness with it.
No! he thought with determination. I can't give up. I've never quit on anything before, and I'm not going to start now. There are people depending on me for survival. He looked over at what remained of the band Last Man Standing. They were down one member now, and Terry couldn't help but feel responsible for it. If he had been there in the first place, maybe all of the band could be surviving. He didn't know that for sure, but what he did know was that if he was selfish and took his own life now, he wouldn't be there to protect the people that still lived.
Besides, why was he getting all worked up about it right now? Just because the movies showed people turning into zombies once bitten or scratched doesn't mean he would turn into one. Those were just movies.
xXxXx
"Hold on!" Terry called, taking deep, winded breaths. "I need a break."
We can't! Josh's mind screamed at him. They're chasing us! We can't stop! They'll tear us apart!
Josh took a nervous glance back at the alley they had just run through and then towards the empty street ahead. "Alright, we can stop, but we have to find a safe place to stay in. I don't like the idea of resting on the streets."
"Heard yah," Drew said from behind. He wasn't out of wind yet, but drops of sweat were clearly visible under the streetlights.
The group moved to the closest building they could find, a local gas station.
Josh and Zack were the first to go in the building. They both approached the glass doors carefully. They peered inside, but saw nothing. Josh gave a nod to his brother before opening the door.
Inside the group spread out, checking the aisles for any sign of the undead. Zack jumped over the counter, making sure there was no one behind it.
They found nothing.
"That leaves only one place unchecked," Zack said.
Josh nodded solemnly. "I'll take a look. You guys just stay here and rest."
Zack bit his lip apprehensively. "I think we should check it out together. It'll be safer."
Josh smiled, showing it was all right. "Don't worry. Your big brother can take care of himself."
"He's right," Drew said, moving over to where the brothers stood. "We've been over this before. We use the buddy system. I'll go with you."
"Fine."
Josh watched his brother go for a second before turning his attention back to the door. With a deep sigh, he pushed the door open and walked into the back room.
The room was pitch black. Josh felt the wall next to him, looking for a light switch. Eventually, he found one and flicked it. Nothing happened. He flipped it up and down several times, but the bulb overhead remained dark.
"Damn it…" Josh muttered under his breath.
"Now what?" Drew asked from beside him
They weren't left in complete dark though. The light from the open doorway let him see that they were in a hallway. There were three doors.
"We keep going," Josh said as he moved to the only one on the left. Cautiously he opened the door. Drew watched him go then moved for the first one on the right.
The room was as black as the hall. Josh felt for a switch and found it, but this time the light bulb in the center flickered on. He gave a sigh of relief when he saw that there was nothing here but an empty office. Papers and empty food containers cluttered the room, but there was nothing dangerous in here (unless count what looked like three days old Chinese left on the desk).
He closed the door behind him and moved back to the hall. He saw Drew hastily close one of the doors, plugging his nose and gagging loudly. "Man! That's disgusting!"
"What?" Josh asked as he moved towards the door. He reached for the doorknob with his hand, but Drew knocked it away.
"Don't!" he demanded, still gagging. "It's just a bathroom. A fucking disgusting one at that. Damn!" He paused. "Trust me, not even the dead could stand to be in that room. It's that bad."
Josh smiled at his friend's antics. "No way it's that bad."
"Don't believe me? Check for yourself. Someone needs to learn to flush after themselves."
Josh just chuckled. "I trust you."
The bathroom had served as a small distraction against Josh's original purpose, exploring the back rooms and making sure they were safe. He looked over at the one remaining door.
"Go ahead and go back to the group," Josh said. "I'll check out this last room and be back in a sec."
Drew didn't even argue this time. He gave Josh a small, comical salute and went off.
Josh gripped the doorknob in his left hand, raising his handgun with his right. He cracked the door open carefully, peering into the room. It was pointless. The room was even darker than the hall.
Just turn around, Josh thought. There's nothing in there. There wasn't anything in the last two rooms, so why would there be anything in this one? Just follow Drew back to the group. Where it's safe.
Josh took a deep breath. "Can't do that," he whispered to himself. With that said, he pushed the door open and walked in. He felt around for a light switch, but when he found it, it didn't turn on. Big surprise, he scoffed.
The thought of walking blindly in the dark with God-only-knew-what lurking in the shadows wasn't a pleasant one. He thought briefly of turning back around, but pushed the thought from his mind. He had to do this.
"What I wouldn't give for a flashlight," Josh said aloud. He hadn't meant to talk aloud, but it helped. The room was far too dark and silent for his liking. The place was starting to get under his skin, and talking out loud was just one small thing he could do to stop himself from freaking out.
He didn't have a flashlight, but he did have something else. He reached into his pocket and produced his cell-phone. With a quick flick of the wrist the phone was open, sending out dim blue-light.
That was when Josh heard that God-forsaken noise, another soulless moan. Josh turned the cell-phone to the direction of the noise, but a shelf stacked with various boxes and items met him. At least he knew where he was now: the storage room.
Josh scanned the cell-phone left to right, hoping to catch the zombie in its light. He saw nothing. With his gun held out in front of him and the cell-phone clutched in his shaking hands, he walked forward.
Should I really be doing this? he questioned. I'm going to go find a zombie with a flashlight. That doesn't sound like the best of ideas.
Then again, he argued with himself. Maybe it's not a zombie at all. It could be a person. The owner of the antique store moaned like that and we thought he was a zombie. He had a strong mental image of someone lying against a wall with a bleeding neck. Someone who had heard him open the door and was trying to call for help. He couldn't leave them behind.
Josh walked on.
The tiny amount of blue light was barely strong enough to show him five feet in front of him, and the width of his vision was even worse. It was almost like having tunnel vision. There was another bone-chilling moan and he turned to the sound again, but saw nothing. The darkness was playing tricks with him. The sound seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, but he knew that was impossible. Wasn't it?
Maybe I should just leave, he thought, letting cowardice grab a hold of him. You can't see it anyway. This is crazy!
Get over it, Josh thought determinedly. You have to do this. You don't know for a hundred percent if that moan is coming from a zombie. If that were you, you'd want someone to help you. Wouldn't you?
The answer was of course, yes. More determined than ever, Josh moved on.
The light shone a blank wall, leaving him with the sole option of turning left. Josh took it, following the rows of shelves. He felt like Theseus in the Labyrinth, except he had a cell-phone to guide him instead of a ball of thread, and there wasn't a Minotaur waiting at the end but instead a zombie.
Sweat rolled down the side of his face as he went farther down the lines of shelves. With each step the hand holding the gun grew a little shakier. If this keeps up, he thought. I might not even be able to shoot it. My hands will be shaking to bad.
He didn't hear another moan, but he heard something just as bad, maybe even worse. It was the sound of light breathing. He was getting closer now, or was he only hearing his own breath? In the darkness— lit only by one broken cell-phone— it was impossible to tell.
"Hello?" Josh finally called out. He had met to sound strong and reassuring, but his voice came out small and weak. "Anyone there?"
There was no answer.
A hot rancid smell came to his nostrils and he knew he was close. But how close? he questioned. He could certainly smell the creature (possibly even hear it as well) yet he still couldn't see it. That made Josh think, could the zombie sense him? How well were the undead's senses adjusted? Could they smell better? Could they hear better?
Can they see in the dark?
That was an unsettling question, but certainly one he had to take into account. He stopped walking, listening carefully.
He definitely heard breathing, but it was impossible to tell where it was exactly coming from. He scanned the ground for some sign and found exactly what he was looking for (even though he hoped against hope he wouldn't find it). There was blood on the floor. It was left in thick smears and drops. At some points Josh could even see footprints in the crimson fluids. He saw the left foot was wearing a sneaker of some sort, but the right was shoeless, the toes easily distinguishable.
No doubt about it now. Whoever was in here was definitely not alive. There was way too much blood for them to be living.
While Josh was studying the footprints, the unthinkable happened: his cell-phone started flickering on and off.
"Shit!" Josh hissed through his teeth. He looked at the display and saw a warning for depleted batteries. "No! No, no, no! Come on you bastard! Don't do this to me now!" He hit the back of the phone none too gently with the palm of his hands, but it was fruitless.
Josh was in the shadows with a flesh-eating zombie that may or may not see in the dark. Just perfect.
He took a step back and tripped over something hard and stiff. He went rolling to the floor, grappling with whatever had tripped him. He didn't even realize that what he wrestling with wasn't cold and dead. He certainly didn't realize it was only maybe a half-inch thick in diameter. He thought he was grappling the zombie; he definitely didn't expect it to be an ordinary broom.
When realization hit him, he breathed a sigh of relief and flung the broom angrily away.
How could I be so stupid! How could I let my fear get the better of me!
He felt around on the ground, looking for his gun— he had dropped it during his WWE match with the broom. His hands landed in something sticky and wet, the blood no doubt. He grunted with dissatisfaction and disgust, wiping his hands on the front of his shirt. When he thought he was clean enough, he kept looking for his lost weapon.
"Aha!" Josh said as if he had just made a great discovery, and indeed he had. His hands found the cold steel of the gun and gripped it eagerly.
That was when he heard a new noise, one far more terrifying than the breathing and the moans combined. It was the sound of shuffling footsteps. Josh eyes went wide with terror, and he hastily pushed himself back to his feet. He looked around in the blackness, trying to find the source of the noise, but saw nothing. He was lost now in a sea of shadows with no light to guide him. That fall over the broom had caused him to lose all sense of direction he once had.
Another shuffling step, the sound of someone dragging his or her feet slowly. Josh whipped around, trying to find the zombie. He kept turning from side to side. He didn't want the zombie to get the jump on him, but in this darkness it was almost guaranteed.
The smell of death came upon him again, this time accompanied by hot, fetid breath on the back of his neck. Josh had no time to ponder how the zombie had managed to get on his backside. He rolled forward, uncaring if a wall or shelf met him. He wanted to get away from the horrible creature behind him.
It may have been his imagination, but he swore he felt wind from the creature's swing at him pass over his head. If that was true, that was far too close of a call for him.
Luckily, he managed to avoid the wall, so he spun around, firing one shot at a time at the darkness he had once stood at. The gunshots echoed loudly in the enclosed space, deafening him. The shadows were light up with the flash of the muzzle, letting Josh catch sight of his assailant in brief sparks. He didn't seem much. The life of the light was far too fleeting for him to get an accurate description, but he could see that it was a bloody man. His eyes and teeth gleamed with a kind of evil and insanity. That gleam would haunt Josh for the rest of his life, he was sure of it.
The first shot was the only one he needed; it was a lucky one. The shot managed to find the man's forehead with little trouble. In the other flashes of gunfire (he fired and extra three times after the first shot, just from pure reaction) he saw the man drop to the ground, blood squirting from the wound in his face.
For the second time in just a brief two seconds, Josh was lucky again. The extra shots ricocheted off unknown objects, sending them flying in all sorts of directions. Josh heard the zing! of the wayward shots, and even felt one whiz by his ear.
When the bullets finally came to their resting places in the obscurity, Josh breathed a sigh of relief. He had managed to avoid a bullet there— figuratively and literally.
Cautiously, he stood back and placed a hand out, trying to find a wall or shelf. Logic told him that if he could find one, he could trace its edges back to the door he had come in from. The panic told him to forget about the logic and run around like a chicken with its head cut-off. Josh managed to defy the latter urge.
Calmly he found the wall and walked with his hand lightly brushing the surface. He didn't say a word, he didn't think, he barely even breathed. His body had gone through a kind of sensory overload and it was now in shock.
Eventually he found the doorway and its faded light, and he sprinted for it madly. When he came into the hall he leaned against a wall, centering himself. Now that he was out of the darkness there was relief, but there was also distress. His struggle against the zombie in the darkness had shaken his very core. He drew in big gulps of air and swallowed down a surge of vomit that threatened to come up.
In a few minutes he felt better and walked back to the main group. As he did so, he reached into his front pants pocket and pulled out the cell-phone. Why he had held onto it after its batteries had run dry was a mystery to him, but it was in his pocket nonetheless.
"You piece of shit," Josh cursed to the phone. "You nearly got me killed back there." Suddenly, he turned around and hurled the phone with all his might at the wall on the far end of the hall. It shattered into countless tiny pieces, and Josh felt better. Not much, but a little.
A/N: And it is here, finally! It was shorter than I wanted, but I thought I found a good place to cut the chapter. Otherwise, it might have gotten too long. Sorry for the huge wait (it was even longer than last time), but things have been hectic over on my side. Sorry for those of you who were expecting huge amounts of action, but I promise there will be more in the future (maybe even next chapter, if you catch my drift) Not much else to report over here except thanks to my loyal reviewers, and just leave me some comments on this new chapter. See ya later.
