9. Lena
9
LENA
L ena's consciousness flickered like a faulty lightbulb, gradually dragging her from the depths of darkness into the stark reality of her surroundings. As she blinked against the harshness of the light filtering through cracked windows, panic surged within her. She was bound, her wrists chafed and raw from the tight zip ties, and a bitter taste of blood filled her mouth.
Her heart raced as she tried to move, only to find the rough floor biting into her skin. Memories flooded back: Dr. Walt's taunting voice, the feeling of betrayal sharp as glass. She remembered the fight, the way Fleur had looked at her, and then darkness. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut: she was alone. And she had no idea if Fleur was okay.
Lena strained as she moved her sore body, eyes scanning the room for any sign of Fleur or their belongings, but all she saw were shadows and debris. She forced herself to breathe steadily, keeping panic at bay. If she didn’t stay calm, she wouldn’t be able to think clearly. She twisted and turned, desperate to loosen the ties binding her wrists.
Suddenly, she caught sight of a stray nail protruding from a broken piece of wood nearby. With every ounce of willpower, Lena maneuvered her body to reach it. The pain shot through her side, but she pushed through, gritting her teeth. Inch by inch, she dragged herself toward the nail, desperation fueling her movements.
With a grunt, she managed to grasp the nail between her fingers and began to work it against the zip ties. Her heart thumped as she sawed through the plastic as fast as possible, the friction biting into her skin. But at last, the ties gave way, and she freed her wrists. Breathing heavily, she flexed her fingers, wincing at the sharp pain still radiating through her.
Her first instinct was to call out for Fleur, but she held back, instinctively knowing that it might attract attention. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, her body aching with every movement. The throbbing in her head intensified as she steadied herself, desperate for water, desperate to find Fleur.
Lena glanced around the room, her heart louder than the eerie silence. Dust motes floated in the air, and the faint sound of something scratching at the floor above caught her attention. She had to find a way out.
The building creaked ominously as she made her way to the doorway, the sound echoing through the hallways. She knew the risk; if there were others here, they could be anywhere. But she couldn't just sit back and wait for help that might never come. She stood cautiously, testing her legs, the pain sharp and stabbing.
She stumbled into the hallway, her eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through broken windows. As she moved, the unsettling thought that she could be walking into a trap gnawed at her. She reached for an old rusty pipe lying discarded on the floor, its weight reassuring in her hands.
Just as she took a step forward, a loud crash from below sent adrenaline surging through her veins. Her heart raced, and she steadied herself, gripping the pipe tightly. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong.
“Fleur,” she whispered, the name barely escaping her lips. She wanted to scream, to call out, but she knew it could give away her position.
She pressed on, attempting to remain as calm as possible, even as the sweat of anxiety dripped down her skin. The oppressive silence felt like a predator stalking her every move. She had to find a way down, away from whoever had brought her here.
As she crept toward the stairs, the sense of anger and frustration grew heavier. The old wooden steps creaked under her weight, and she hesitated, listening for any sign of life. She heard scratching sounds, which sent chills down her spine. She gripped the pipe tighter, ready for anything. As she descended, Lena felt the building shift, the floorboards beneath her vibrating.
She reached the next floor, glancing around. The place was a maze of debris and shadows. Then, she spotted a group of men gathered in a dimly lit room at the end of the hall. Lena’s breath caught in her throat as she crouched low behind a rusted filing cabinet, trying to catch snippets of their conversation.
“…have to decide soon,” one of them said, his voice gruff and low. “If we don’t feed her to the dead, they’ll come for us next.”
A chill coursed through Lena’s veins as she realized they were talking about her. Surely it couldn’t be Fleur. She was too valuable. She felt her stomach drop, a cold wave of dread washing over her. They had no idea what she was capable of, what she was willing to fight for.
“Dr. Walt said she’s important. We can’t waste her,” another man interjected, his tone suggesting they were debating her fate as if she were nothing more than a piece on a chessboard.
Lena clenched her fists around the pipe, the anger and fear coiling within her like a tightly wound spring. She had to get out of here, had to find Fleur before it was too late.
Suddenly, one of the men turned and walked toward the doorway, and Lena froze, heart racing. She slipped back behind the cabinet, praying he wouldn’t notice her. The man paused, scanning the hallway with suspicion, then shrugged and continued onward, leaving her breathless and trembling in the shadows.
She waited, counting the seconds, hoping for the right moment. The men’s voices grew distant, and Lena took a deep breath, steeling herself. She had to move quickly.
She crept forward towards a door, keeping low, searching for a way to escape. Her leg throbbed painfully, but the adrenaline kept her moving forward.
As she neared the entrance, another crash from the floor above sent a wave through her body. Something was going on up there.
But just as she reached for the doorknob, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. Lena froze, as she turned to face the oncoming threat. The door swung open, revealing two men, their expressions twisted with malice.
“Look what we have here,” one of them sneered, stepping forward. “Caught you trying to escape, did we? You silly girl.”
Before she could react, the other man lunged at her, grabbing her arms and pinning her against the wall. Lena fought against their grip, swinging the pipe wildly, but they were too strong. Panic surged in her as she realized she was outnumbered.
“Bring her,” the first man ordered, and they began dragging her back into the room where the others were waiting.
“No! Let me go!” Lena shouted, but her cries fell on deaf ears.
They pulled her into the room where the other men were gathered, their expressions gleeful as they watched her struggle. Lena's mind raced as she fought against them, adrenaline coursing through her veins.
“Guess you won’t be needing this,” one of the men said mockingly, snatching the pipe from her grip and tossing it aside.
“Please, you don’t have to do this,” Lena pleaded, desperation rising within her. “I can help you!”
They only laughed, the sound chilling her to the bone. “Help? You’re just bait for the dead now,” one of them taunted. “We’ll feed you to them, and then we’ll be safe for a while. They need food, just like us.”
Panic clawed at her throat. Her mind raced, seeking a way out as they began to hold her by the arms. But then she felt a surge of anger. No! She wouldn’t give in. Not without a fight.
“You think you can do this to me?” Lena spat, her voice fierce. “I won’t let you!”
One of the men smirked, stepping closer. “You won’t have a choice.”
With every fiber of her being, Lena pushed against their grip, using every ounce of strength to try to break free. But the men were too strong, and their laughter echoed in her ears as they held on tight to restrain her.
And just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, the room fell silent. The men exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from amusement to something darker.
“Get ready,” one of them hissed. “The rotters will be here soon.”
Lena's heart raced as the realization crashed over her. This was her end. This was how the story finished.
Lena struggled against the men’s grip, her heart racing as they dragged her across the dusty room.
“Let me go!” Lena shouted, twisting and kicking, desperately trying to break free. The laughter of the men only fueled her anger. They underestimated her, and that would be their downfall.
With a sudden surge of adrenaline, she planted her foot on the nearest man’s knee and pushed off with all her strength. He stumbled back, losing his grip on her. Lena took her chance, spinning around and throwing a punch that caught another man square in the jaw.
Surprise lit up their faces, but they quickly recovered, charging at her as one. She ducked under a wild swing and grabbed the rusty pipe from earlier, wielding it like a weapon. Her years of fighting and leading came into action. This was the fight for her life.
“You shouldn’t have underestimated me,” Lena snarled, brandishing the pipe defiantly.
The men hesitated, eyeing the weapon warily. Lena took a step forward, adrenaline coursing through her. “I’m not going down without a fight.”
In a blur of motion, she lunged forward, striking the first man across the side of his head. He crumpled to the floor with a satisfying thud. The others shouted in shock, and Lena took advantage of their surprise, swinging the pipe again at the next man.
The third man lunged at her, attempting to grab her, but Lena sidestepped him, the pipe connecting with his ribs with a sickening crunch. He staggered back, winded, and she pressed her advantage, her heart pounding as she fought for her life.
But they were coming at her in numbers. The first man was back on his feet, and as she turned to face him, she felt a sharp pain in her side. A punch landed hard, knocking the wind out of her. Lena stumbled, struggling to stay upright, but she refused to let them see her falter.
With her whole mind and body’s strength, she swung the pipe again, but the man ducked, and before she knew it, they were closing in on her. Panic clawed at her throat as she fought back, every swing and every strike fueled by desperation.
She dodged and weaved, a whirlwind of motion, her body screaming in protest. The adrenaline coursing through her veins pushed her forward, and she managed to knock another man to the ground. But just as she thought she had the upper hand, one of the men grabbed her from behind, pulling her arms back.
“Got you now, you little shit!” he shouted triumphantly.
With a final surge of strength, Lena kicked backward, catching him off guard. He stumbled, releasing her just long enough for her to turn and drive the pipe into his stomach. He doubled over, gasping for breath, and Lena seized the opportunity to break free.
She sprinted toward the door, heart racing, but just as she reached for the doorknob, another man blocked her path, eyes wild with rage.
“Not so fast!” he growled, charging at her.
Lena barely had time to react. She raised the pipe to defend herself, but he tackled her to the ground, sending them both crashing to the hard floor. Pain shot through her body as she hit the ground, and she fought to regain her footing.
In the chaos, Lena felt her leg buckle beneath her. She was aware of a sharp pain radiating from her knee, and panic surged. She couldn’t let them win.
With a desperate cry, Lena pushed herself off the floor as she spotted the nearest exit, a rickety staircase leading down.
“Stop her!” one of the men shouted, but Lena was already moving. She sprinted toward the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest.
Each step sent shockwaves of pain through her leg, but she couldn’t stop. She could hear their shouts behind her, their footsteps echoing as they pursued her.
As she reached the top of the staircase, Lena glanced back, adrenaline masking the pain in her leg. She couldn’t let them catch her. She raced down the steps, feeling the rough wooden planks beneath her feet.
But just as she reached the last step, she lost her footing. Time seemed to slow as she tumbled down, the world spinning around her. She landed hard, the impact jarring her entire body.
Pain shot through her leg, and she cried out as she felt something give way. She couldn’t move; her leg throbbed with agonizing intensity. Dizziness washed over her, but she couldn’t give up.
Gathering her strength, Lena pushed herself into a sitting position. She had to get up. She had to keep moving. Lena pulled herself to her feet, gritting her teeth against the pain radiating from her leg. She couldn’t let them catch her; she had to escape.
As she limped through a nearby door, she caught sight of movement out of the corner of her eye. Panic surged through her. A group of the dead lurked nearby, their hollow eyes fixed on her with a predatory hunger.
Lena’s heart raced as she grabbed a piece of broken wood from the ground, wielding it like a weapon. She couldn’t let them get to her. Not now.
She faced the nearest zombie, whose rotting flesh was hanging loosely from its bones. It lunged at her, jaws snapping, but Lena sidestepped just in time. With a fierce swing of the wood, she struck the creature across the head, sending it staggering back.
But there were more, so many more. Lena’s breath quickened as she realized she was surrounded. Moments later, the men who had chased her appeared through the door behind her, walking straight into the thick of it.
“Fuck, get back, there’s a group out here!” one man screamed as the rotten figure took hold of him, sinking its yellowed teeth into his flesh.
It took some heat off Lena, but she was still in trouble.
One of them had its sights set on her. The smell of her blood had enticed it. Lena fought with everything she had, her heart pounding in her ears. She struck out again and again, battling with her last, desperate reserves of strength.
She couldn’t give up. She wouldn’t give in. With a primal roar, Lena pushed herself forward, plunging the wood into the zombie that came too close. The creature crumpled, and Lena fought on, adrenaline driving her to keep going.
But just as she was about to deliver the final blow to its head, another one lunged at her. She tried to dodge, but it was too fast. Pain erupted in her arm as its teeth sank into her flesh. She pulled away as fast as she could to create space between them, but it had toppled over her, its lifeless eyes and snapping mouth only held back by her arms. This was it. This had to be the end.
“No! Not now!” she gasped, fighting against the encroaching darkness. She couldn’t die here, not when Fleur was still out there.
In a last-ditch attempt to survive, she used all of her remaining energy to push the creature off her, and rolled onto her side to try and get away.
And there she saw it. Glass. A perfect shard of glass.
She grabbed it just in time as she rolled back around and sank it straight into the monster's temple. Its dead eyes blackened as it collapsed next to her.
She looked over to the doorway, where the group of dead were busy feasting on the men from the building. She wasn’t sorry. Slowly she got herself up. The pain was like nothing she’d ever experienced before.
Breathing heavily, Lena looked around, her heart racing. She had done it. She had fought them off. But the victory felt hollow as she glanced down at her arm, the blood seeping from the bite.
Lena staggered back, pain lancing through her body as she realized the severity of her injury. The world around her started to fade, her vision swimming in and out of focus. Each pulse of agony shot through her arm, where the zombie’s teeth had sunk in.
“No… no…I’m changing, I’m turning into one of them,” she whispered, panic rising in her chest. She had to find Fleur. She had to escape. The thought of losing her made the darkness that threatened to consume her feel even more suffocating.
The wound throbbed painfully, pulling her focus back to the present. She had to keep fighting. The darkness pulled at her like a tide, trying to drag her under. With each step she took, her legs felt heavier, like lead weights shackling her to the ground. She stumbled forward, the rough surface of the stairs pressing against her palm as she gritted her teeth against the pain.
The world around her blurred, and her thoughts began to spiral. She could see Fleur’s face, clear as day. The way her eyes sparkled when she talked about her work, her passion igniting the air around them. It was these moments that Lena cherished that kept her going even now.
“I’m sorry, Fleur,” she murmured, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I didn’t protect you. I thought we’d get out of this together.” The admission tasted bitter on her tongue. She could feel the darkness wrapping around her, whispering lies and despair, promising that this was the end.
“Please… just a little longer,” she gasped, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
With every ounce of willpower, Lena pushed herself to her feet. She felt the blood seeping from her wound, warm and sticky against her skin. “I’m not done yet,” she whispered fiercely, determination igniting within her. She needed to survive, not just for herself, but for Fleur, too. For the mission. For humanity.
But the darkness, too powerful to fight, was closing in on her. “Please… not like this,” she breathed. The sounds of the world faded, and she collapsed, the last vestiges of hope slipping through her fingers.
As she succumbed to the shadows, a single thought flickered in her mind. Not that she’d lost the fight, but that she’d lost the one thing that had kept her fighting: Fleur.