Chapter 10
I turn around to see five horrified faces, but there’s no time to dwell on what I just did or whether it was the right thing to do.
All at once, four of the bodies lying still in the parking lot stand and run toward Mr. Josh at a disturbingly fast speed, screeching eerily.
“Oh my god, Quinn! You killed him!” Ginger cries out.
Nurse Patrick, Keisha, and I shush her in unison. Anticipating the chorus, I give January a warning look that demands silence.
Nurse Patrick waves us back into the dark stairwell, and we carefully close the door behind us.
In the tight space, Lucia trembles beside me, and January is quaking with unshed tears.
I swear, if Ginger complains about Mr. Josh’s human rights, I’ll toss her off the roof too.
I feel impatient and frustrated. We’d be halfway to the river by now if these idiots had stayed in the dayroom where they belong.
“Let’s give it an hour. If we stay quiet, maybe they’ll move on and we can leave then,” I suggest.
Silence. Nobody speaks, and nobody meets my eye.
I sigh, annoyed. “Look. He was holding Lucia by the throat. He was out of control. He had to go. You know it as well as I do,” I say sharply, looking around the dark stairwell at each face for agreement.
“He has rights, Quinn,” Ginger starts. I sigh, annoyed but not surprised.
“What about Lucia’s rights! What about ours? Don’t tell me that guy didn’t give you the creeps! I want to live, Ginger! I want to survive this! He was in my way. He was in your way. He was in everyone’s way! And now he’s not. Move on,” I demand.
The next hour passes slowly and quietly. The heat outside has turned the stairwell into an oven, and Cat’s body downstairs is making this unpleasant situation nearly intolerable. When the wait is finally over, we open the door and breathe deeply, appreciating fresh air like never before.
Nurse Patrick and I walk the perimeter of the roof, scanning the parking lot for carriers. The area seems quiet, but when we pass Mr. Josh’s body, one carrier remains by his side, slowly eating what’s left of him.
“The fire escape is on the other side of the roof. If we’re quiet, maybe we can avoid that one,” I say, pointing toward the carrier below.
“And what if it hears us?” Nurse Patrick asks, a bit green in the face.
“Then we take care of it. Quietly. Listen, you brought Jan and Ginger with you. That was your choice, so now they’re your responsibility. If one of them screams, I’m leaving them. No exceptions.”
“I understand,” he says.
“Good. Let’s go.”
I corral everyone to the fire escape and look down. It’s a very long way to the ground, and my vision blurs. I take a deep breath, then speak quickly and quietly to the group, hoping they won’t argue.
“I’ll go first, just in case the carrier hears us.
I’ve killed the most of these things; I can handle one on my own.
Nurse Patrick, you come down right behind me and have that bedpost ready to help me.
” I give him an almost threatening look.
He needs to step up. Now. “Keisha and Lucia, you’re next, weapons ready.
Ginger and January, you’ll be the last ones down.
Do not make a sound. Do not complain. We will leave you behind if you freeze up there.
” January’s bottom lip quivers, and I give her a death stare. Everyone nods mechanically.
I don’t waste any more time. I step out onto the fire escape and start my descent.
The steel staircase is old, and I cringe with each rusty step, hoping it won’t creak too loudly or fall apart completely.
When I’m halfway down, I start to relax.
I signal for Nurse Patrick to follow. He hesitates but comes out onto the first set of stairs.
The fire escape shifts a bit under his weight, and I freeze, but it holds.
I nervously glance down into the quiet street below, searching for movement, but there’s nothing. I keep climbing.
Once I reach the end of the fire escape, I use my weight to pull down the last set of spring-loaded stairs to the ground. The scrape of metal on metal pierces the air around me. Again, I freeze, whipping my head back and forth, waiting for a swarm of carriers. My heart pounds, but they don’t come.
I climb down and drop the last few feet, landing on my toes with a soft thud. I motion for the others to keep coming. That’s when a low growl draws my attention.
The carrier that was making a meal of Mr. Josh rounds the corner and runs head-on in my direction, dripping with Mr. Josh’s remains.
Just before it reaches me, I dodge out of its way to the left, swinging my bedpost low, directly in its path.
It trips, sliding face-first on the concrete, taking several layers of skin with it.
The impact of bone on bedpost vibrates up my arms, and I drop my weapon.
The sound echoes through the parking lot, and I scramble to pick up the bedpost before it can bounce again.
Dammit. By now, the carrier has almost made it back to its feet.
I can’t miss my opportunity for the final blow.
With the carrier on its hands and knees, I place my right foot onto its back, knocking it down onto the concrete.
I lift my bedpost over my head and crack its skull on the way down.
Its body goes still under my shoe. I breathe out, relieved.
Above, the rest of the group is frozen on the fire escape, shielded protectively by Nurse Patrick. These cowards didn’t even attempt to help me. I kick the carrier at my feet angrily, then motion for them to continue.
I contemplate grabbing Keisha’s hand and running away from them all.
Except Keisha wouldn’t leave Lucia to fend for herself.
And anyway, there’s no time to think. Clearly they’re not interested in helping fight off these things, so I want to get out of here as soon as possible.
As they drop to the ground one by one, I scan the horizon, watching for carriers, but thankfully the coast stays clear.
“Thanks a lot for the help,” I whisper, glaring.
I think I see shame flicker across Nurse Patrick’s face, but I wave it off.
There’s no time for this. “We need to head southeast toward the river like Lucia said. We also need to stock up on supplies and weapons. Three bedposts and a screwdriver aren’t going to cut it. Nurse Patrick, which way is the river?”
“There,” he says, pointing behind us. “We can follow Adams Street all the way south.”
“Good.” I turn to start walking.
“Wait!” he whispers. “We can drive,” he says, pulling a set of keys from his pocket with a grin.
Nurse Patrick may be a passive marshmallow, but I guess he’s not completely useless. For just a moment, I’m actually glad he’s here, despite him bringing Ginger and January along.
We follow him to the parking lot on tiptoes, ducking low and scanning the area for more carriers.
I feel completely exposed as we weave our way through a maze of stalled, empty cars in the parking lot.
My nerves are raw, and I listen carefully for footsteps that aren’t our own.
Eventually we arrive in front of an old blue pickup truck with rust on the fenders, and I cringe.
This definitely isn’t an electric model, and from the looks of it, it’s going to be loud.
I guess they aren’t paying psychiatric nurses very well.
Silently, I dole out the seating arrangements, pointing Ginger and January toward the cab while Lucia, Keisha, and I climb into the bed. When we’re all in, Nurse Patrick slides the center back window panel open.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Ready,” I reply.
“I’m thinking we should try to hit the sporting goods store off Interstate 474. We’ll grab what we can, then head south following the highway that runs along the river,” Nurse Patrick suggests.
“Good plan,” I say. And it is. A sporting goods store is exactly what we need. I just hope no one else has had the same idea.
“Then we can go find our parents,” Ginger says. My eyes flash toward Nurse Patrick, then to Keisha, silently begging for their help.
“That’s right, kiddo. As soon as we can, we’ll find your parents.” The lie feels strange coming from Nurse Patrick, but his answer seems to satisfy her for now.
Nurse Patrick turns the key to the old blue pickup, and I swear I almost crack my teeth cringing. The growling of his ancient engine is deafening in the silence of the city. His muffler spews thick smoke, and I stifle a cough.
“Go. Now!” I order through the back window.