Chapter 6: Claire's Reintroduction to the Undead
The air was cold and had even more of a bite to it than it did in Alaska, where at least there was some cover of trees to fight the wind, unlike this island. But that wasn't the kind of shiver Alice felt right now as she walked past the bush-planes to a large garage, where more than likely the fuel was stored. She needed to check it out but she couldn't leave Claire in the plane alone, the ex-project was far enough away already. As she was about to return she heard a groan, the calling card of the undead, and it was coming from the garage.
Alice kept her weapons trained on the open garage door as a figure emerged from the black interior. At the sight of her, the decaying corpse was filled with purpose. Alice's adrenaline skyrocketed; with a shot to the leg Alice brought the undead to its knees, and followed up with a shot straight through the creature's skull. Another fiend emerged from the doorway and Alice wasted no time in extinguishing the new threat. The second body collapsed onto the first and added its own coagulated blood to the slowly advancing pool beneath them both.
The ex-project heard a footfall behind her and jerked around, fully prepared to put a bullet in the center of another undead's brain.
"Jesus, Claire! I thought I told you to stay in the plane!" Alice took her guns off the redhead but didn't lower them completely, there could still be more of the infected nearby and she had to be ready.
"I'm sorry. I the heard gun shots – I was worried. Is that…" Claire was at a loss of words at how to describe the gory scene in the garage doorway, so the ex-project finished her sentence for her completely unaware that Claire had just apologized and admitted to being worried for her.
"Yes, it's the undead," Alice said coldly as she turned back to the garage and replaced one of her pistols with a flashlight. "Stay close to me. I have to check this place out for fuel."
Claire swallowed, and did what she was told. Alice stepped over the corpses and as Claire did so she had to hold her hand over her nose and mouth to block out the smell. The redhead's eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness but she was able to keep the taller woman in her sight.
"Ah, there it is," Alice said as her light shined on a large red tank with the spray painted word FUEL on its side. It seemed that this room had been built exclusively to house the tank of fuel, because there was virtually nothing else in it, just a few standard tools, an overhead light, a couple of gas cans lined up against the far wall and next to them a door; other than that the two undead had been the room's only additional occupants. Alice walked over to the tank and tapped her flashlight on the metal hull. The noise it made hardly echoed at all, meaning the tank was full, more good news.
Alice assumed that the closed door led to the rest of the structure, but the ex-project needed to secure the area and that meant opening the door. She rounded the tank and pushed down the handle with her elbow, and used her body weight to force open the heavy fire-safe door while keeping her gun and flashlight at the ready.
Parts of the metal roof were eaten away by rust, sporadically dotting the room with light. Alice passed through one of these beams and entered the space with Claire on her heels. In front of them were large shelves filled with tools, passing the shelves they came to a metal-working table where a welding project lay unfinished; the arc-welder resting next to it like any minute its owner would come back and complete what they had started. Alice thought it was a little crazy to weld so close to a fuel tank, but who was she to chastise a healthy desire to die? Always the pessimistic one; maybe it wasn't that they wanted to die, but that they didn't think they would, Alice amended.
Claire neared the table gleaning a closer look at the warped metal. She couldn't discern its function but perhaps it didn't have one, perhaps it was only meant to be aesthetic. Claire had no use for such things, even if its sharp, reaching silver-spires were beautiful. The redhead was too transfixed on the metallic curiosity to notice that Alice had walked away from her intent on searching through the tool shelves for something useful. Claire was so engrossed with it, that she reached out to touch it; she wanted to connect with something that she didn't understand. Just as she was about to touch the top most spear her awareness was drastically heightened. She could smell the oxidizing metal above her, taste the stale air, see tiny dust particles pass through rays of light, hear Alice searching through pieces of junk, and feel – feel something grabbing her ankle.
The redhead screamed and Alice rushed to her as Claire was dragged to the floor. Along with Claire's exaggerated senses, time seemed to slow. She could see every minute movement the person made as he crawled out from under the table and up her body. Claire didn't even think to fight back, she was terrified. The man on top of her was literally rotting away; his skin was showing signs of disintegration, his scalp was patched with tufts of hair, a dry-unhealed bite wound with dead-flapping skin was present on his neck, but what scared her the most was the desire in his eyes; the driven need to open his mouth wider when he neared the exposed skin above Claire's breasts. The redhead screamed one last time as the man began his descent. But just as he was about to tear into her goose-bumped flesh, a pair of hands reached around the man's head and twisted it, until Claire heard a resounding snap.
Before the body could collapse the rest of the way onto the redhead, Alice shoved it aside and yanked Claire to her feet away from it. She put her hands on Claire's shoulders to steady her and searched her body for any visual signs of damage.
When she found none she asked in a panicked tone, "Are you ok?" But Claire didn't respond; she was frozen. Alice needed to calm down, so she let out the unstable breath that hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her control back in place she asked again, "Claire," her relaxed voice caught the redhead's attention and she looked into Alice's blue eyes, "Are you alright?"
Claire nodded but Alice could tell that she was clearly shaken. Alice was confused; she'd never seen Claire so helpless. She hadn't been with Claire the first time the redhead had a run in with the undead, so she didn't know how she had reacted. But Alice had a hard time believing that Claire had done nothing to defend herself.
Alice continued to talk but Claire didn't listen. The once human being lying on the floor looked like a rag doll, limbs contorted and spread in every direction. The redhead noted the brute's hands were encased in leather gloves, and facing up next to him was a welding helmet with its protective glass shield cracked. Claire could almost see the welder with all his protective gear on, slaving over his metal fabrication while someone came up behind him, his glowing welder covering up the noise of the intruder's footsteps. A sharp pain in his neck gushing warm blood, and then – Claire's thoughts were interrupted when Alice slipped her hand into hers. The contact was electrifying.
"Come on, let's go outside," Alice said as she led Claire away from the carnage of the garage.
Once they were in the fresh air the redhead finally seemed to have a sense of what was going on. This was her world now; it was one of horror and fear. From deep within Claire a resolve bubbled to the surface. She promised herself that she would never be that afraid again, and released Alice's hand.