Chapter 1 #2
Parker gives me a sympathetic look. “Everything will be fine, Kate. You’re helping everyone here by doing this. Your patrol keeps us safe, which means more time working down here for everyone’s benefit.” His large hand rests gently on my shoulder as his voice softens. “Including your brother’s.”
I can’t even fake a smile at the mention of Harry, so I just nod. “Thanks,” I push out around the lump forming in my throat. “Maybe you’ll hit a big break in the case,” I attempt to joke.
Luckily, Taylor’s a good sport, because they give me a grin. “If Parker will stop distracting me,” they needle playfully, “maybe I will.”
At that, Parker gives them a fond smile over his shoulder before looking back at me, his hand still on my shoulder. He squeezes gently. “Come see us when you get back in tomorrow.”
I nod and awkwardly step out of his touch. He never takes it any further than a gentle arm touch and it doesn’t feel demeaning, but being touched isn’t my thing.
I offer them an awkward wave and leave both the comfort and the uneasiness of the lab.
I take the stairs two at a time, heading to the exit: two large, rusted metal doors. We have exit doors on this level and the ground level. The ground level allows animals acquired from other zones to graze during the day before they’re bustled back inside for safety.
The heavy doors are the only way in or out, not including the underground tunnels. Throughout the city, there are underground walkways from before the outbreak, allowing access to the subway, shops, and government buildings.
Now they’re mostly empty except for shadow stalkers, which no one wants to run into.
I hear Sal’s laugh before I see him. My patrol partner stands around with four men and Michelle, chatting it up as I approach.
He’s a nice guy—a bit too cheerful, considering what we’re currently living through.
I think it’s all a front, though. I think it’s the only way he knows how to cope with it all.
“There’s my partner!” he bellows, his voice bouncing off the industrial walls. He strides to me and throws a muscular arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. “Now, don’t be scared, young blood. You’ve got ol’ Sal here to show you the ropes.”
Michelle snorts and bats her eyelashes when he twists his head in her direction. “You’re such a knight in shining armor, Sal.”
He waves his free hand dismissively, but his chest puffs out slightly. “Nah, just doing my job, little lady.”
Michelle lets out an actual giggle, and I use the distraction to slip from under his arm. “Are the horses ready?” I ask.
Sal looks back at me, his eyes a little glazed. He blinks himself back from my roommate and says, “Oh, they’re getting all saddled up. You got everything you need?”
I grip my backpack strap. Granola bars, canteen, medical supplies, a map of the city and surrounding areas, bullets for the gun holstered to my hip, flashlight, rope, sleeping bag, walkie-talkie, and a few grenades Michelle insisted I carry.
I may have overpacked, but it’s better to be overprepared than under. “Yep.”
He flashes me a smile before his attention snags on Michelle again. “Don’t miss me too much now.”
She bites her lip before purring, “I’ll try not to.”
Gag.
“C’mon,” I murmur, stalking to the exit, where a couple of the men have moved to pull the doors apart. Slivers of dim light trickle in with each inch it opens, exposing us to the outside world.
Building after abandoned building greets us, slapping us in the face with the decay. But in the distance, greenery thrives—tall trees stand proudly before a massive sprawl of mountains, snow still covering the tops.
I try not to think about the myth about people leaving the city to reside in those mountains.
In the first year of the outbreak, a small religious fanatic group took form.
They said the virus was humanity’s reckoning, that this was God’s way of punishing us.
They began isolating themselves, moving to their own commune, until one day, others realized they were gone.
Rumor has it they managed to hike into the mountains to practice their faith in peace.
I don’t believe in any of that shit, though. If they actually did manage to reach the mountains without being attacked by the infected, they would never survive a winter with limited supplies.
It’s a story to share around the campfire, or for Dr. Parker to muse about when he’s bored. Nothing more.
Sal and I squeeze through the space the men have provided, exposing ourselves to the outside world.
We stand a few stories off the ground. I peer over the edge, looking for any signs of infected, but finding none—just because they prefer the night, doesn’t mean they can’t sneak up on us before the sun goes down.
On the ground floor directly below, I watch the horses being guided onto the grass. Sal waves to the horse handlers below. “They ready?” he asks them as he descends the stairs with me on his heels.
Bernie, one of the men who manages all animals in our zone, nods. “They’re a bit on edge for some reason, so take caution.”
I don’t like the sound of that. Sal doesn’t seem fazed, though, as he walks up to a horse and pets her neck. “Ah, they’re being big babies. Aren’t you, girl?”
She jerks her head back as if in annoyance, which makes Sal chuckle before turning back to Bernie. “We’ll bring them back in one piece, don’t worry,” he jokes before placing his foot in the stirrup and hoisting himself over.
I face the palomino stallion beside me and do the same, trying to shove down the anxiety that wants to climb up my throat.
“Later, fellas!” Sal lazily salutes them as he nudges his horse into a trot.
I do the same, the horse under me seemingly wanting to stay close to his friend. We ride side-by-side, keeping our senses on high alert as we move to the first gate.
There are multiple gates one must go through to get into our safe zone.
The first gate directly surrounds the building.
The next spans a few additional buildings, the one after that covers the entire block, then half a mile, then a full mile.
It allows survivors to break their journeys into stages, if need be—if an infected comes out of a building in one area, a survivor can either dart through the fence or climb over it.
Most infected no longer have the wherewithal or motor skills to do either, so the survivors would be safe.
Once someone reaches that final fence, though, they’re on their own until they reach the next safe zone.
It’s not the perfect system; if too many infected slam into the fence, it’ll collapse. Which is why I’m out here now, risking myself to make sure everything is secure.
“We’ll check each gate as we go,” Sal explains as we approach the first gate. “We’ll stay at the safe house on the outskirts for tonight–it’ll be too dangerous to travel after dark. We’ll head home after sunrise.”
Calling the safe zone ‘home’ makes my hackles rise, but I don’t bother voicing that. It isn’t worth it. I’m trying to take everything in, trying to absorb as much of our surroundings as possible.
We pass the first two gates with no issue, no holes or anything to fix. “This is the trickier part,” Sal murmurs beside me, staring forward. “Our zone encompasses the edge of the city, butting us up against the suburbs. There’s more area for the infected to hide out here.”
A chill goes down my spine, so all I do is nod and keep my eyes and ears peeled.
Sure enough, as we ride through the next gate, the buildings thin out, opening to small town homes.
Abandoned cars litter the streets, making us weave in and out of the road.
We pass derelict houses, a constant reminder that people used to live here, used to have homes and families and full lives before this virus brought everything crashing down.
The homes are further apart than they are in the city’s center, which makes the reminders less painful.
There’s dead infected strewn across the ground in various stages of decomposition.
My eyes rove over them, curiosity causing my thoughts to churn.
Questions bounce around in my head—how did these infected die?
Was it from the virus itself, or a fight between infected?
I look for any signs of injury, but we move too quickly for me to properly study them.
Part of me wants to hop off my horse to conduct a quick inspection.
Sal slows as we reach the final gate, which is currently bucking under the weight of multiple infected pushing on it from the other side.
“Ah fuck,” My partner sighs as we halt, observing the damage. Even though it’s still holding, one more infected shoving their body against it will cause it to collapse.
“What do we do?” I whisper, my earlier interest in the corpses gone, leaving only nerves.
Encountering live infected always makes me fearful, no matter how many times it’s happened. It’s something I’ve not been desensitized to.
Sal twists his torso, reaching for his backpack as the infected stare at us, their bodies moving as if to walk straight through the fence. I want to avert my gaze, to not look too deeply, but that would be a mistake.
It isn’t until I hear the click of a grenade pin being pulled next to me that I finally look away. My head whips to Sal as he launches it in the air and it lands on the other side of the fence.
They don’t even react to it, still pushing against the fence until it detonates.
A loud boom has me covering my ears and startles my horse.
Body parts fly in different directions, blood now staining the grass where infected used to stand.
Some lucky few only had arms or legs blown off but are still moving.
Hisses and snarls rise from them before Sal pulls his gun free and fires. One bullet per person.
“A warning would’ve been nice,” I mutter, lowering my hands.