Chapter ten: Tor
"Safe house should be right down this alley." Patrice said as he pointed at the spray paint. He was all but dragging me while Josh carried Carol piggyback style.

To say we were in rough shape was an understatement.

We heard crying from down the alley.
"Someone's there." Josh said quickly, "Sounds like she needs help." We hurried along as best we could, I took my weight off Patrice and hobbled along on my own, both of us raised our weapons just in case. As we rounded the corner we saw a young girl huddled on the ground, sobbing and wailing. She'd been stripped down to her underwear and was bound in a straitjacket, her ankle handcuffed to a sewer grate to keep her from leaving the spot.
"Don't touch her!" someone called from the safe house. "She's been bitten!"
"And you're not going to help her?" Carol shouted, the girl was looking up at us desperately, pleading for help.
"I'm documenting this! No one has caught the transformation on camera!" the voice shouted back.
"You sick motherfucker!" Josh screamed, kneeling next to the girl, his hand on the chain that held her in place. "Give us the key to this thing and let her go!" Patrice and I made our way towards the door, a video camera behind the barred windows recording everything. I heard Carol behind us talking to the girl, trying to calm her; the girl said her name was Tor.
"Stay back! This is for science!"
"Fuck science!" Patrice barked, his gun up and ready to blast the man through the bars. I hobbled as quickly as I could back to Josh and took his Molotov, then went back to the door. I held the Molotov and the lit lighter at the bars.
"You give us that key right now you sick fuck, or I drop this in there and we let you cook alive." The man paused. "I'm not bluffing, asshole." He produced a key from his pocket and held it out in a shaking hand. His hand passed through the bars and Patrice grabbed it. "Just take the key and unlock her." I was so calm as I ordered Patrice, I don't know why. Patrice took the key and went to Tor, I kept the Molotov in sight for the man inside. I heard the handcuff open and the sounds of the others helping Tor to her feet. Carol was still comforting her, telling her we'd get her safe inside and out of the straitjacket. "Now, open the door."
"Are you-"
"Open the fucking door!" I shouted at him, I would not let this man argue otherwise. I brought the Molotov and lighter closer together.
"Alright alright!" he squeaked, the lock slid and the door opened. He backed away as we came in, but Patrice went straight for him and put both of his huge hands on the man's neck. The man sniveled and pleaded for his life. Claiming his work was for humanity. Patrice declared humanity wouldn't miss one psycho.
"Patrice." I was still so calm. Patrice looked at me, as did this other man, looking to me for mercy. "Do it outside." was all I finally said, "This girl's gone through enough." Patrice nodded and pulled the man outside screaming and begging not to suffer what Patrice had in mind for him. Josh went out and joined them.

I was tempted to as well, but after my crimes against humanity, what gave me any right to judge him?

Instead I helped Carol unbuckle the straitjacket. Carol kept Tor talking, she sounded so weak, so famished. We were serenaded by the sounds of violence outside as the man pleaded for his life.
"How long were you out there?" Carol asked gently, helping Tor bring her arms out in front of her and gently letting her flex and stretch away the stiffness.
"Three days." Tor whimpered, she grimaced in pain as she moved her arms for the first time in days; she cracked loudly.
"Poor thing." Carol sympathized, resting Tor's head against her chest and hugging her from the side. "It's okay, you're safe now."
"Thank you." Was all tor could squeak out while I continued to unbuckle the back of the jacket. I got halfway down when I saw the bite on her shoulder, it was deep and looked infected. She was pale. I gently rubbed my hands on her back, making them seem to be comforting her and soothing her aches; she was sweaty and felt clammy.

She felt like Steve had.

"Carol." I said quietly, our eyes met, she knew what I wanted to tell her. She looked sad and let out a pained sigh, hugging Tor harder, as if trying to give her a last comfort. The pleas outside had stopped by now, Patrice and Josh having dealt out their justice. I put my hand on Carol's arm, half tempted to strap Tor right back up before she could harm either of us, but I couldn't. Carol nodded at me and released Tor. Tor looked up with confusion, her eyes clouding, losing all colour.
"I'm sorry, Tor." Carol had honest anguish in her voice. Tor shook her head in denial.
"No! No don't leave me! Please!" I led Carol out the door, slowly backwards. The guys saw us coming out and knew what was happening. Patrice closed the door and then sat, leaning against it, his entire weight keeping the door closed; the petite girl, maybe 16, 17 years old, would not possibly be strong enough to free herself. "No! You can't leave me! Please don't!" She stood now, wailing and sobbing, Patrice put his hands to his face and grimaced, even a hardened soldier's heart was going out to this poor girl. She struggled in the unbuckled straitjacket, trying to free herself fully of it. "Please! Please don't leave me alone! I-" As the jacket fell from her, we saw where I'm sure had once been soft, small, feminine hands, now foot long talons remained. Carol immediately hid her face in Josh's chest, we all covered our ears as Tor's wail of agony froze us all in our place. She stared at her new hands with fear that was displayed through her wails. She charged the door and slammed herself against it, reaching out to us, what was left of her no doubt reaching for comfort, but the infected side reaching out to harm; Patrice kept all his weight on the door, Tor would have no hope to make it even budge. None of us could bring ourselves to look at the poor girl, and her screams would no doubt alert more zombies.

I forced myself to look at her. I saw only colourless eyes that portrayed nothing but anguish. Her pale skin as white as her eyes, and even her hair was quickly losing any colour of life. Her taloned hands reached through the bars at us, but not close enough for any kind of contact; even Patrice kept himself just low enough to avoid her reach. Her screams were deafening, we would be flooded with zombies in no time, I was sure of it. I took Patrice's shotgun and slowly approached what was only moments ago a terrified girl... that somewhere deep down that girl very well could still be; I had to make this fast and painless.
"I'm so sorry, Tor." I honestly felt pity for her, and tried to convince myself I was doing the humane thing.

One loud blast later, the alley was silent again.

And there we were, in an alley in Spears, hiding in a safe room where earlier that night I'd blown a teenage girl's head off.