Chapter Twenty-Eight
Burn
It'd been awhile since I'd found myself trapped and alone, watching the meager daylight creep closer and closer to night.
I didn't miss it.
Shifting a little off my side to give my numb arm a break, I bit back a whimper as my movement sent sharp spikes of pain down my back and ankle in response. It didn't seem that anything was broken, just really sprained and bruised, but regardless, the last thing my body needed was a long day cooped up on a cold hardwood floor. Yet that's what I'd ended up with. It had been hours since Terrence had left. Our luck had been too good the past month.
What had gone wrong?
I gritted my teeth and rested my head back against the wall with a dull thud, eyes closed. Don't think about it.
With effort I forced my thoughts to turn to positive things, trying to break the pattern of negativity and worry that would only drop me into a hole of anxiety and depression.
Think positive. Think happy.
Like the time last week when I'd come across Bradley painting a mural on the wall of one of the spare bedrooms with some art supplies Fisher had found while scavenging. It was half finished now, a detailed, stylized collage of things he liked - Harry Potter, superheroes, soccer players, the flurry of crashing waves on a beach, the skylines of New York City and Seattle. A flurry of color bursting out of the pristine white walls that he created to the background noise of alternative rock and hip hop that our home's previous owners had on their playlist.
Fisher usually sat watching him; the Hunter generally ignored me still, but his aggression and distrust seemed gone for the most part. He'd left me alone with Bradley without complaint various times now while he accompanied Terrence on scavenging or scouting expeditions. I didn't think we'd ever be friends, but we could live together. For my part, I'd been very conscious about not bossing Bradley around and being more friendly around Fisher. I wondered what they'd thought when Terrence had shown up at the house, frantic and covered in claw marks and alone.
I bit my lower lip. Positive thoughts. Think positive.
Terrence. The Hunter in Terrence hasn't shown itself since that uncomfortable first night in the house. But I hadn't tried pushing it, either, and for a couple weeks after, neither had Terrence. Though over the last week or two he'd started to be more open again, bit by bit every day. We had had a lot to keep us busy and distracted otherwise - we spent a sunny afternoon cleaning off the solar panels and a few days organizing the house and inspecting the generator and other necessities.
It had been fun watching Fisher help Bradley through the deepening snow. And Bradley and I had enjoyed watching the Hunters occasionally turn to fits of play fighting in the snow to help relieve their pent up energy. They alway ended up soaking wet and freezing and panting great clouds of white in the frozen air, but their eyes were always lit up with the thrill and the fun. And then sometimes Terrence would get caught up in the fun and drag me down into the snow with him, and Fisher would roll his eyes and Bradley would pretend not to see as my Hunter stole a wet kiss with frozen, frost tinged lips and I'd pull his hood down over his playful gaze. In those moments I was more content than I'd ever been since our new lives started. Everything was perfect.
But every once in awhile when we'd be scattered around the house doing chores, I'd spotted Terrence in a room or corner with Fisher having a wordless conversations. One or the other was usually anxious or aggravated, and both stopped trying to talk when they saw me. I tried not to think about it. I hoped it was Fisher trying to express to Terrence what he'd told me that night in the kitchen, but it wasn't my business either way. At least the two could talk to each other. And they seemed to be getting better at it. Hopefully when Terrence got back without me, he had been able to -
Crrrrrrk.
Something creaked outside the door. My body froze instinctively. Breath caught in my chest. Ears strained for any other sound.
Silence.
I dared a small, slow breath that rose in a lazily drifting white cloud between my lips.
Nothing. Probably nothing. Just the settling of an old and abandoned wooden building left behind to the winter elements.
Still…
I looked at the door across the room. It was locked from my side, and I'd heard Terrence move something heavy in front of it before he'd left. But would an Infected have enough sense to know to move the barricade?
Crrrrrrrrrrrrrrk.
The sound was like a punch to the gut. It was closer this time. On the other side of the door we'd entered by. My breath stuck in my chest, a heavy feeling as if my heart had paused in dread at the sound.
Then something turned the doorknob.
My knees were under me before I had time to think. Through the rapidly dimming light, my eyes stared at the door. It was locked and barricaded, but who knew if that would be enough. Whatever was on the other side was smart enough to know how to use a doorknob.
For a few minutes, the only sounds were my heart thudding heavily in my ears and my steady shallow breathing blowing puffs of white into the frigid air. My ankle was stiff and I had to keep my back rigidly straight to ward off the pain. I was in no shape to fight.
At last I warily sat back against the wall, rubbing my nose and cheeks with bare hands to try to restore warmth to the chilled skin. Every movement and rustle of jacket I made seemed deafening to me, but I had to stay warm. And I needed a plan.
The office I was in didn't have much - furniture, books, a lamp, a rolling desk chair. I had no idea what lay behind the other door or even beyond the barricaded window - it was just like that apartment so many months ago, but this time I was in worse shape. And even if I did get out, what then? The early winter night was falling already. I had no supplies. My ankle was badly sprained and it hurt to do anything except keep my back straight. Home was a couple of miles away through open ground and empty roads.
What was I going to do?
I took a slow, deep breath through my scarf to help offset the biting cold. Calm down. Think clearly. I'd been in loads of similar tight places before. I could do this.
Would could I do?
Setting my katana aside, I searched through my pockets. Besides the clothing I wore, I had a lighter, a mini flashlight, a pocket knife, the map and the pen I used to mark it with, and a couple odds and ends like extra hair ties and bobby pins. The rest of my meager emergency supplies were in my backpack that Terrence had ripped off when we had tried running away.
More to have something to distract me than anything else, I spread the map on the floor besides me and flicked on the flashlight. According to my rudimentary map making abilities, I was three blocks away from the residential street we lived on. Most of the buildings along the way were little shops and restaurants with a few upper stories for offices and apartments. The building I was in was on something like a hip small city main street. Most of the stores with anything worth taking were broken into, and without any electricity, the empty buildings loomed like canyon walls on a pitch black night. The perfect environment for creatures to hide and stalk prey. I knew them fairly well by now, but Terrence knew them better.
I thought back to all those many months ago when I'd been faced with the prospect of making it alone to a safe house with an irritating and dangerous Hunter dogging my every step. It didn't seem reasonable to hope this time would end up like the last, with a new companion and a new hope.
Tucking away the map deep into my clothes, I picked up the lighter, flicking it on and off a few times to make sure it was still working. My bookworm brother would have killed me, but I looked at the pile of books and scattered papers on the shelves and table and floor where'd they'd fallen when Terrence had done some rearranging, and I thought of the warm, blissful fire I could make. My ankle and back almost seemed to ache more at the thought. But what would I do with the smoke? The smell and sound and light would be the biggest red flag of my post-apocalypse life. Maybe if I were desperate, I could consider burning down the old wooden building around me, but if I'd wanted to commit suicide, I could just open the door and -
As if on cue to my thoughts, the doorknob on the other door twisted once.
I shot up onto my one good foot, balancing on the knee of my bad leg. Lighter in one hand, worthless piece of once-katana in the other.
Thud.
The sound of someone testing a shoulder against the door was unmistakable. A soft growl followed after it, cut short just as quickly as it started. It was not a growl I recognized - I knew Terrence's and Fisher's growls.
I swallowed, my throat dry, the cold air stinging. Terrence. Where was he? I didn't like being a damsel in distress, but this time I was stuck good. But even if he did come for me now, what could he do? Something had found me. We weren't getting out of this easily.
My heartbeat throbbed in my forehead. I was cold. In pain. Very thirsty and hungry. I sat back once again and pulled off my scarf, wrapping it tightly around my boot and sprained ankle. If I took the boot off to wrap the ankle, I was worried any swelling plus the scarf would make it impossible to put the boot back on.
I then got on my hands and knees and crawled around the room, gathering all books and papers and flammable material in a pile in between the second door and the window. With difficulty because I am short and it was high up, I pulled down the heavy curtains; I couldn't stop the curtain pole from crashing down onto the shelving shoved up against the window.
For a full minute after, I froze like an awkwardly balanced statue holding the disheveled curtain rod above my head and one musty curtain half off the rod and mostly on my face. Nothing made a sound outside the doors. Slowly, I continued on my errand. I had to keep doing something. The temperature was dropping and the light was leaving me to the mercy of an abandoned winter. My friends were gone. Something knew I was here. I had to keep moving.
I had just enough natural light to grab the last few things of interest, like the single metal wastebasket. Then I wrapped myself in the curtains and huddled next to the pile of future kindling and waited.
Night fell. With the clouds blocking the moon and the bookshelf mostly blocking the window, it was true darkness. The curtains offered me some protection from the cold, buried as I was underneath them, but still I shivered. Was Terrence going to leave me here all night? He knew I didn't do well with the cold; I had built up some body fat but not enough. He would leave me to suffer anymore than he could stand. So he must have been distracted by something.
Crrrrrrk.
I clutched the curtains around me tighter. My katana laid at my knees. In my free hand I held my flashlight. The only thing I could think of in the instance of an attack was to blind the attacker first and then try to stab something critical. Would a fire help? Maybe. But I probably had more time than kindling to burn.
The thing outside tried the doorknob on the first door again. It tried pushing it open with its shoulder. But the lock held.
A few minutes later it happened again at the other door. A little louder. A little harder.
Did it know for sure I was here? Maybe I should try to scare it off.
Again it tried the first door. Claws scratched in frustration at the wood. A growl, soft and eerie and muffled in the sheer darkness.
A few moments pause. Then the other door.
Every sound sent the hair on my neck on end and goosebumps down my arms. I felt like I was simply waiting for the smell of death and the heat and stink of hot breath on my face any moment now to come from the pitch blackness.
Crrrreeeeeek.
Door.
Scratch.
Growl.
I closed my eyes. Clenched my hands around my weapons.
If I was going to die, did I want to do it cold and in the dark?
I hesitated. The freezing air and inability to see and aching pain was getting to my head. But maybe it was better that way. The worst part about the unknown is being unable to see it coming.
Hesitantly, with fingers so cold that I had to blow on them a few times to get them working, I ripped and crumpled papers to put into the wastebasket. I didn't know how fast they would burn or how long they would last, but maybe long enough. I paused before cracking open the window a few inches; maybe the smoke would help the guys find me. Better than choking on it anyway.
When all was set, it took me a few tries to work the lighter, my fingers so cold and stiff it was like how I'd imagine trying to move a paralyzed limb. But then with a small fwoom the tiny flame flickered to life. I held it for a minute, staring at it. Then set a piece of paper on fire and dropped it in.
The flame took a moment to catch, dancing feebly on its small paper like the moment of thought a diver takes before making the plunge into freezing unknown water. Then it spread to the next paper. Then the next. It ate through the contents of the basket quickly, devouring it like a flood.
I threw in some cardboard and thick paper folders for good measure. The light was meager and danced eerily on the walls, but it was something. I felt a little better. Maybe a little safer, although logically I'd just thrown up a red flag. But if humans were meant to be in the dark, we wouldn't have learned to make fire.
For a short while, the sounds outside the door went away. Then...
THUD.
I winced. The sound was so loud I wasn't sure what door it had come from. It was like the audacity of my fire made it angry.
"Come and get me."
The words were out of my mouth before I'd realized I'd thought them.
The thing on the other side growled, low and menacing.
I leaned over the basket of fire. The smoke filled my face and nose and my eyes burned. But the warmth bit and chipped away at my frozen skin.
Yeah. Come and get me.
THUD.
THUD.
CRRRRCK.
I started, tossing back the curtains around my shoulders. What in the hell was that?
My gaze searched the dark shadows wildly. The dim and shifting firelight made it difficult to see. Like mirrors in a fun house.
THUD.
Crrrrrrk-CRSH.
The side door shuddered. Something was trying to break through. Whatever the door was made from, it wasn't normal wood.
I hopped onto my knees, pushing the flaming wastebasket in front of me until it was directly in front of the door. Up close, I could see a bulge in the upper half. Cracks and splinters were already running through the cheap cardboard-like grain.
THUD-CRRRRCK
I scrambled around, snatching up all the flammable objects in reach and stuffing them in the fire. The flames swelled, crackling hungrily down the new fuel overflowing from the basket and up against the door. I dragged one of the curtains near me and piled it nearby. Close enough to catch if it were flammable. Couldn't tell. No time to care.
CRRRRCK.
Claws poked through tiny slivers of space where the door had finally given in. Wicked claws, blackened with shadows and months of filth.
I stuffed the lighter in my pocket. Snatched up my katana. On hands and knees I crawled to the bookshelf and ripped out the shelving, tossing it towards the growing fire. The room filled with smoke. My lungs and and throat burned. Tears threatened to blind me.
The creature in the door growled. Without thinking, I growled back. I thought I saw a flickering glint of an eye peer through a crack in the door. Then the claws slid back into place and began to pull.
Crrrrrrk CRRNCH.
Snatching up the curtain, I wrapped it around me - meager protection against claws and teeth. I tossed the last of the books and papers towards the fire. Flames licked at the cheap fake wood door. The resin covering the hardwood floor puddled and steamed. A putrid, chemical smell filled my nose and I hacked a cough as I scurried on my hands and knees towards the other door.
The creature at the broken door shrieked and snarled. In the small enclosed space filled already with smoke and stillness it was deafening. I ducked and threw my hands up over my head and neck. But a glance back told me the thing hadn't made it through the door yet. A sizable chunk was missing from the wood. Not large enough for a man. Maybe for me. Hard to tell. Tears and smoke blurred my vision. Ash burned my throat and face. The gaping emptiness seemed to be sucking out the smoke and steam.
I hesitated. Glanced at the barricaded door. The window. The door being quickly engulfed in fire. I had one chance.
I labored to stand on my good foot. And started for the fire.
With gloved hands, I snatched up the flaming wastebasket and flung it through the hole. It hit something and then clattered to the ground. Another shriek rent the air.
Katana in one hand, I grabbed the smoldering, flaming curtain with the other, held it in front of me, and launched myself over the remaining fire and through the hole.
Door splintered around me, scraping at my hair, snagging my clothes. My ankle screamed in pain. My back seemed locked and ready to break. I pushed through, hitting my knees hard on the table and then rolling off into the floor. Smoke clogged my lungs.
A growl to my left. Movement!
I rolled the opposite direction. Up on my knees. Swung up the burned curtain in time to catch the creature mid leap. It hit with a dull FWOOMP. The creature yelped. Stumbled.
I scooted back on my butt. Ran into another bookshelf. Nowhere to go. The fire had consumed the door and now was working on the table that had barricaded it. My throat burned. I pulled up my sweater around my nose and tried not to breathe too deep.
The creature was recovering, growling and coughing from the smoke spilling into the room. My fingers found the books behind me. I threw them as hard as I could towards the fire.
Burn. Bigger. Brighter.
Snarling. My attacker prowled to the other side of the room away from the fire. On all fours like a great cat. Eyes glinted behind a mess of dark and matted hair.
I threw the last of the books in my reach at the fire. The flames growled and rumbled.
The creature darted towards me.
I swung out with my katana. The dull but cleaned blade slashed through the light. The Infected dodged to the side, blackened teeth bared in a snarl. Tried to lunge again. With an awkward twirl I whipped the curtain around again, releasing it in time for it to land in the creature's face, tangled in its outstretched arms.
The thing fell to the ground, snarling and clawing at the fabric. My luck was holding out. I couldn't expect it to do so for much longer.
Adrenaline numbed my pain as I stood, leaning heavily on my good leg. Biting back whimpers, I stumbled towards the open door leading to the rest of the building. The fire seared my side. I hiked up the remaining curtain around my head.
Fabric ripped behind me with a shriek.
Close enough, I lunged through the door into the darkness beyond, yanking it shut after me and grasping desperately to the door knob.
Another muffled shriek. Almost lost my grip as the knob was practically wrenched from my grasp. I tossed my katana aside and grabbed the knob with both hands, leaning back with all my meager strength to keep the door closed. For a desperate moment it was a brutal tug of war I knew I couldn't win. My arms shook. Muscles screamed. I couldn't hold on.
"You win," I panted feebly, releasing the door and kicking it hard with my good leg.
For whatever reason, this door was thicker and heavier than the other. It flew back, connecting with the creature on the other side.
THUD.
This time the sound was more satisfying.
My trembling hand groped blindly at my side while the other pulled what I could of the curtain over my front. Protect my neck. My chest. Fingers touched cold steel.
A dark figure appeared in the doorway, slinking low to the ground, silhouetted against the roaring light of the fire as it consumed the room behind.
The creature lunged.
I pulled up the katana.
The hilt drove suddenly into my stomach, winding me. Screams and snarls rent the air. Something sharp bit into the skin of my cheek and nose. I cringed and rolled to the side, and the flayling weight on the other end hit the ground in a shrieking, thrashing mess.
I shoved myself further away with all limbs. Struggled to my feet and tossed the curtain on the wheezing, shrieking creature. I didn't know how badly I'd hurt it. No to rest or check. The light was just enough to see the stairs. With every step sending shards of pain into my ankle, I hobbled as fast as I could, half sliding half falling down the stairs. so felt my way through the pitch blackness of the bottom level towards were I thought the door would be. My teeth chattered. Something slick and wet and sticky trickled down my face and into my mouth, coated everything I touched.
Wall. Glass. Then emptiness.
I fell out. Landed heavily in crunching layers of snow. Sucked in a breath of cold outside air. It burned my throat, my lungs, and I heaved, choking.
Strong claws grabbed my shoulder, digging into my coat. I jerked myself to the side, swinging blindly, wildly. Another claw caught my wrist. Held it. Pulled me into a crushing embrace.
I gasped a cry, thrashing as well I could. But the arms held me. Weren't hurting me. A low, deep voice growled into my ear.
"T-Terrence?"
My voice came out as a pathetic, raspy shrill.
A grunt. The Hunter pressed his head against my shoulder and shook it back and forth. Another growl. Different than Terrence.
I inhaled a shaky, painful breath. My face pressed up against his coat.
"F...Fisher?
He huffed. Patted the back of my head.
I never thought I'd be as happy to see that guy as I was then.
My body collapsed in his embrace. Like a deflated balloon. All the fight went out of me. I shuddered uncontrollably, the pain from what seemed to be every part of my body now dulled and distant. Too much. Overload.
Through the blur of pain, a distant shriek sounded into the air. Further away, another one sounded. Then another.
Fisher stiffened. Then his grip shifted. Tucking one arm under my knees and the other under my shoulders, he hefted me up and fled into the night.
Author's Note: Phew, it has been a while! Long story short, I moved myself to South America for a temporary nursing gig (18 months). I did not know Spanish before coming here but I do now. Also my dad almost died as I was preparing to leave as well as a mountain of other things, so I never got around to finishing this chapter until now. I'm preparing to move back home in a couple months, but I'm also preparing to jump back into my photography business and an MBA and my old work. That's life!
Thanks to all of you who have stuck around so long!
