Chapter 41 #2
Jordan tiring me out must have been her plan, as I slept soundly through the night. When I awoke the next morning, she was already up and told me there were no signs of infected or raiders in the building.
We quickly got dressed and ate some of our new rations before leaving the safety of the small room. Sunlight trickles through the broken windows, casting light on the forgotten books. My heart twinges as we stride past them, leaving them here to rot.
Raiding the supplies once more, I don’t hesitate to strap a flamethrower to my back over my backpack.
Jordan cracks the heavy front door and sticks her head out before telling me the coast is clear. We step onto the street, sticking close to the library walls. Even though most of the infected aren’t out, it doesn’t mean raiders aren’t prowling around.
We zig-zag around abandoned cars, avoiding a few decomposing bodies as we go. From the quick glance I give each one, they’ve only been dead a few days. I halt, an ominous feeling travelling up my spine.
“I think we need to go back inside,” I tell her.
Jordan stops and looks at me, eyebrows furrowed. “Do you—”
Bullets start raining down on us.
My hands cover my head on instinct and we both break into a sprint for the closest building.
Gunfire fills my ears as Jordan reaches a door first, ripping it open.
I rush inside with her on my heels. She shuts it behind us and I look for something to shove in front of the door.
Raiders will stop at nothing to get our shit.
A table off to the side catches my attention and I race toward it, throwing my weight into pushing it across the floor. Jordan joins me, shoving at it with less effort than I do until it’s in place.
“Come on,” she urges, ushering me deeper into the building.
As we jog through, I notice it looks like an old post office—a counter protrudes into the main room with PO boxes lining the wall.
We make our way over the counter, jumping through the open window.
Thinking on my feet, I look for the gate postal workers would use when they’d close.
Metal groans as I ease it down, locking us away.
Jordan and I exchange a glance as we stand still, our ears perking—both for the sound of people following from the outside, and from infected roaming on the inside.
Luckily, the only noise we hear for what feels like hours is our own labored breathing.
“You know them?” Jordan pants in what I can only assume is an attempt at humor.
I roll my eyes and answer her seriously, “We’re just outside a safe zone. Besides, safe zones have snipers, but only for infected.”
“I’m infected,” she points out.
I wave my hand flippantly. “You don’t move like an infected.” I shake my head as I move further into the room. “No, those were raiders.”
“Well,” Jordan starts as she turns her flashlight on, inspecting the space. “Hopefully they’ll get tired and fuck off. Though, I doubt that.”
“I doubt it too. They’ll probably try to wait us out.”
“We may have to sleep here,” she comments, but I’m already walking to a door off to the side.
“No need,” I answer, trying to pull the door open.
Jordan waltzes over, gently shooing me out of the way, and pulls the door off its hinges.
“I loosened it,” I mutter.
She gives me a bemused look before peering in. “What is this?”
Part of me wants to tell her I don’t know, but I don’t want to lie. “Do you remember those walkways under the city? You could walk down them and stop in one of the stores down there?”
She shakes her head. “I had heard of them, but never had the chance to use them before the outbreak. I thought they were all closed off.”
“Most of them are.” I take out my flashlight and pan it into the dark stairwell beyond. “But there are a few that remain open—mostly those that open up to no man’s land.”
“You want us to go down there.”
I nod before stepping through the threshold. “I think I know where this leads.”
I lead us into the underground walkway, already knowing where we need to go.
Nerves sit like stones in my stomach as we make our way into the bowels of the city. And what I’m about to let Jordan see.
We reach the bottom of the stairs and I push open the door waiting for us. We prowl through, eyes peeled, and I hold my gun out as we go.
“It’s like an underground mall,” Jordan comments.
Muscle memory guides me forward, rushing past shuttered coffee shops, a frozen yogurt place, and a designer bag kiosk.
“Where, exactly, are you taking me?” she asks, keeping pace with me.
I shake my head, nerves stirring under my skin. “You’ll see.”
Eventually, we reach the entrance to the building I want. Jordan reads the sign aloud, “Mountainside Condos.” I feel her eyes slide to me. “Why here?”
“I come here a lot,” I answer a bit evasively before shoving the metal door open.
Walking through the discarded lobby, I take us to the stairs. My legs are screaming, telling me to stop, but we aren’t there yet. I’m breathing heavy and sweating by the time we make it to the twentieth floor. Shockingly, Jordan hasn’t pressed me; she follows silently behind.
The first condo door is always the best one. I ease it open and step in, ready to share the secret I’ve been keeping.