There are so few chapters to go I want to get this done urgh. Actually finishing off some fics would take a load off, man. Tbh I'll probably continue this into the first few days of November too, if it needs that.
...
It took a while and a lot of non-spilled guts to compel Stelios to come out of hiding, leading his little band of traumatised misfits back into the now deserted corridor to make a run for the stairs. There was still so much climbing to do, the odds completely against him, and Stelios hated how he was upset that they weren't in a larger group; that way he'd be less likely to get singled out.
He hadn't even known he was such a shameless survivalist. What would give him an opportunity to know that though? Then again, he didn't think he'd done enough with his life to warrant not fearing death.
With a silent signal, he burst into a run, six pairs of feet right behind him. He didn't stop running until he was halfway up the stairs. Darted his head back. All clear. Signalled the others to stop. Stelios crept forward, breathing hard and trying his best to listen out for any disturbances in the corridor at the top of the stairs. Finding none, he moved to peek his head around to check once again.
Nothing.
Stelios beckoned for his patients to follow, trying his best to remember where the nearest stairs were. The stairwell off to the left somewhere, right? That would take them mostly to the top floor so it was their best bet.
"Okay," he hissed, "on my order, we run. As fast and as quiet as possible. And don't stop til we're in the stairwell."
"What if the stairwell's infested?" asked Eduard.
"Turn, run back down the corridor, and the person in front find a nice, empty room for us to hide in until the zombies eventually break in and kill us."
"Death is inevitable, isn't it?" Alin sighed.
"It is with that attitude." Stelios threw him a glare before breaking into a run. He didn't look back as he bolted down the corridor, only tearing his gaze from the end to glance in open doorways for monsters, or other survivors. They seemed to be leaving this area alone, for now, having killed everyone else here.
They made it to the doors at the end with no problem, Stelios yanking the thing open to usher everyone inside. Kim-ly made up the rear, keen eyes scanning the lower rungs of the stairs, and corridor behind them, for any signs of advancing zombies. She kept an eye out even as the group darted up through the floors, making more noise than they'd liked as they thundered across the old, click-clacking vinyl. Up and up. Would they get to the end?
Stelios wheeled right smack into a solid body, and screamed as his arms flailed about to try and keep it away.
"Dr Angel! Steli! Calm down it's me!"
"Angie?" he whimpered, taking a peek through his fingers to see Angelique, followed closely by Mei, Kuzey, Mr Morgens and Mr Densen. "You're okay?" This was fantastic news! Not only were there more survivors, but Angie and Mei were among them! "Oh I'm so happy to see you!" He pulled Angie into a tight hug as she spluttered with delight, patting him back.
"Yes, yes, we're fine! I didn't know there were more of you though." Behind her, Mei nodded in agreement.
"We thought everyone was dead," she added, "and that we were next."
"Same," admitted Stelios.
"Aren't you going the wrong way though?" asked Mathias, "I mean, the front door's downstairs, not up."
"Front door's blocked," Eduard told them with a groan, "we can't open it or break it down or anything."
"Really? That's fucked."
"So someone's trapped us in here?" asked Mei, "why?"
"How would I know?" Stelios waved his arms at that. "But we're going to the roof to climb down the fire escape."
"Sounds like a plan," Angie muttered.
"We should go then," Kim-ly spoke harshly, glancing down the stairs with nervous eyes, "those things could attack any minute now. Doctors, were you being pursued by any monsters?"
"Not right now," Mei replied, "we gave them the slip!"
"Then let's go." Now Kim-ly and Mei took the lead, patients filing behind them and the Angels taking up the rear, Stelios wrapping an arm around his shorter friend protectively. Little Kuzey was just in front of them, falling behind the others.
"We're going to get out of here," he told Angie. "All of us."
"And if not, I'll kick you in the shins so you can't outrun me and be the perfect bait," she said with a laugh, and upon seeing his horrified expression, added: "I'm joking of course! We'll double-team Mei."
"Right," Stelios paused, the awful tension leaving him racking his brains for something- anything- to talk about, "you know, if I do die, or you become separated from the group-"
"Steli-"
"No listen," he raised a hand, "you know what you need to do, right? Go up, as far as you can. You remember the little staircase in the corner of the top floor, right? The one that leads to the fire exit?"
"I know where the fire exit is, yes. It's almost as if we work in the same building."
"I know, I know," Stelios shrugged, "but I want to make sure you get out okay. I thought you were dead."
"Likewise," she sighed.
Stelios glanced back at Kuzey. His hands were stuffed in his hoodie pockets, shoulders slumped, and if he could see his face, he could easily guess how glum it would look.
"The ward you were on, when I assume you found out about our infestation..." he began, trailing off and biting his lip.
"We're the only ones left, yes," Angie finished for him.
"So Mr Adnan..."
"He didn't have a chance. None of them did. I didn't think I'd have to spell it out for you." Angie fell silent at that, bristling under his touch, and Stelios pulled away to ponder how peculiarly sad he was that Sadik was dead. Of all people. Mr Adnan had been his hell for years, and was on the verge of death as it was, so why him of all people?
"I'm sorry about your father," he told Kuzey in a slow, sober tone.
Kuzey glanced back, shooting him a glare Stelios wasn't sure what he'd done to earn. "If you say so. Oh, Baba wanted to know if you've wet yourself yet."
So he told Kuzey about that incident? What an evil bastard! "You know what? Never mind. I'm glad the old cunt sheet is dead."
Kuzey's face crumpled at that, and Stelios' stomach sank; well that was too far. It wasn't even over the line, it was miles past on a speeding motorbike not looking back. The line was a dot on the horizon. And now the kid was crying.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, but Kuzey ignored him.
...
When they got to the paediatric ward, there was nothing left but a stream of blood and a severed arm on the floor.
Érzsebét screamed. Roderich cried. Carlos could do nothing as Alfonso inched forward to examine the room, whispering for any survivors to come out. That they were safe. That they were about to be rescued.
But the room was empty.
Roderich fell to the floor, curled up on himself in a sobbing mess. He punched the floor, but all that did was nearly break his fingers. Érzsebét, meanwhile, made her slow, shaky way to her son's bed, saturated in syrupy red and torn right down to the mattress. She reached out, but didn't dare touch it.
"My baby," she whispered, "oh my poor baby." Her face stung as her vision blurred. She didn't bother wiping her damp eyelashes or cheeks, just focusing on trying not to wail or collapse.
Where was Franz? Where was her child?
Érzsebét was cold like she'd been forced into an ice bath, forced underwater so she couldn't breathe, only choke as her lungs filled and everything went dark. The dread in her stomach rose to choke and squeeze at her chest. Franz was gone. He'd been… no, he had to be hiding somewhere.
"The children must've ran," she reasoned to Alfonso, the only person within earshot.
"Where to?" he asked, "and for how long?"
"These are sick children we're talking about," sighed Carlos, coming to join them, "some couldn't even walk."
"But what if one or two could?" Érzsebét pressed.
"Your son would not be among them. I'm sorry."
"I know," she snapped, "but maybe they were evacuated."
"Then I doubt they made it to the front door," Carlos muttered, "I doubt we'll make it to the front door."
"Lucky we're not going there," Alfonso told them, "I got a page from Dr Angel. Door's locked. Can't break through. They're trying the roof."
"Well that's nearer, I suppose."
"Are we jumping off the roof?" asked Érzsebét, "I can get on board with that."
"We're getting out of here." Carlos tried to take her hand in his, but she yanked it away.
"I don't want to go," she muttered; "my son is dead. What's the point?"
"Please," rasped Roderich from the doorway, "you have to get out of here."
Érzsebét shook her head.
"...De… dear." He hobbled forward, taking her hand, and this time she didn't pull away. She missed his hands, soft like satin, long and thin and easy to wrap around her stubby fingers. His other hand came up to stroke her hair, carefully, carefully letting coarse wires filter through his fingertips. "We might find him on the way. I- I mean, if everyone alive is going to the roof, the children could be there already."
The doctors exchanged glances. Érzsebét didn't move, still staring at that canvas of blood where her son had lay unconscious only a few hours ago.
"If Franz is alive-"
"Roderich, stop."
"We cannot give up on him," he insisted, "not until we know for sure. At the very least, I do not want to be in this place a moment longer."
Érzsebét's eyes were dull as she allowed him to pull her away, barely hearing the low, rumbling growls off in the distance.
...
Well this dumb shit took longer than expected. Oh boy.
