Authors: Mark Campbell
Jerri sat hunkered down in the corner of the room like a
wounded animal, burying her face between her knees. Her manic laughter
had been replaced by soft sobs.
Jerri stifled her tears and looked up at the officer with her swollen
face and red eyes. The chain that once held tethered her handcuffs to the
floor lay strewn in front of her and the leg cuffs had dug into her ankles.
She looked absolutely pitiful.
“Please help me,” Jerri told the young officer as she stared at the
tip of the chain. It still had the metallic anchor attached to it along with
three exposed screws.
“Can you at least loosen my cuffs?” she asked as she used the
corner of the wall to help her get up on her feet. “I can’t feel my
hands…”
He continually glanced down at his wristwatch and kept an eye
cocked towards the door. Beads of sweat formed across his pale skin and
the MP5 shook in his clammy hands.
“Shut it,” the man said as he curiously crept towards the door. He
kept his weapon pointed at Jerri as he moved but his attention was firmly
focused on the door.
The man let out a panicked cry and darted away from the door.
He started to pace in the room, running his fingers through his hair and
keeping a firm grip on the MP5 with the other.
As soon as the man turned away, Jerri held the chain that was
shackled to her handcuffs and spun around suddenly, lashing the man
across the face.
A large gash opened across his cheek and blood started pouring
profusely from his wound. Stunned, he stumbled backwards and squeezed
the trigger–
He choked and fumbled with his weapon as he collapsed on the
ground, helplessly pulled forward by Jerri’s surprising force. He repeatedly
pulled the trigger of the MP5 in his panic but nothing happened; he never
disengaged the safety.
Once the officer was on the ground Jerri wrapped the chain
around his neck twice more, placed her knees down on his back, and
pulled the chain as tight as she could.
The officer’s face turned red and his eyes bulged out of their
sockets as the chain sunk deeper into his throat and cut off his air supply.
He dropped his MP5 and hurled Jerri off of his back.
Jerri relaxed her grip and let the chain fall against the floor. She
scooted towards the man and quickly unwound the chain from the
corpse’s neck. She then brought her knees tightly against her chest and
slid her handcuffed hands underneath her feet and up to the front of her
body. Such contortionism would have been impossible for her before but
her frail frame had succumbed to malnutrition and starvation and made
the act surprisingly simple.
No luck.
The banging outside the door continued.
She reached down and picked up the MP5 with both hands.
Flicking the safety off, she placed the barrel directly against one of the leg
irons that shackled her feet together.
She chose her right leg; she figured that she would only need to
get one leg free and then deal with the other leg and the handcuffs when
she comes across some keys.
Jerri, ears ringing, couldn’t hear the banging outside the room or
anything else for that matter. Everything had the diluted sound quality as
if she were holding her head underwater.
She tried to open it but it was locked; Lt. Willow was proving to
be more formable than she originally imagined. Hopefully he was one of
the countless dead now outside.
The glass shattered and pelted down against the floor in small
shards revealing a small room lined with wooden chairs and dark
computer monitors.
It was completely empty.
Jerri, stunned, lowered her gun and walked towards the room…
She thought she was in a prisoner holding area or an
interrogation room but the sign on the rear wall of the room quickly
corrected her suspicions.
“Son of a bitch,” Jerri muttered despite not being able to hear her
own words over her tinnitus. She carefully crawled through the shattered
window into the small adjacent room and looked back at the place she
had spent the past few hours in captivity.
The hallway was painted all white and covered with mold. The
tiled ceiling sagged badly with moisture and most of the overhead
fluorescent lights long extinguished. Windows dominated both sides of
the corridor along with multiple rooms. Two decaying men wearing
laboratory coats lay strewn in the center of the corridor, long since dead.
Multiple metallic carts, just like the one Lt. Willow used, cluttered the hall
and were overturned.
A single fluorescent fixture had fallen loose from the ceiling and
dangled off of two sparking wires. The fixture struck against the wall as it
dangled in the breeze caused by a nearby vent. It struck the wall again…
again… and again.
It was an observation room like the one she had just come from.
Empty.
An animal carcass was shackled to the floor but the nature of the
decaying animal could be anyone’s guess; rot had reduced the thing down
to clumps of fur, putrid meat, and gangly skeletal remains.
It was dark inside but she could make out rows of silver tables,
toppled microscopes, and other medical devices she couldn’t recognize. A
few decomposed corpses wearing tattered white hazmat suits were lying in
the room. One of them was sprawled across the table with his arms
hanging off of the sides. Each of the large laboratory areas appeared to be
connected to the corridor by sterile sally ports.
She hobbled quickly towards the staircase…
The staircase door opened.
Lt. Willow staggered out of the staircase. He was soaked in
gasoline; the stench overpowering. A crimson blossom had formed on his
abdomen and blood trickled down his leg. He held a ring of keys in one
hand.
He started to whistle as he limped down the hall.
“I didn’t come back down here to torture you if that’s what
you’re worried about,” he assured. “I just came down here to get you...
You're going to lead us back to Camp 6 once we get into Arizona. You'd
know that desert back-road shithole better than any of our
cartographers... even if we had any old maps left.”
“Whatever. Don't be stupid,” he said, brushing her comment off.
“We're overrun here so we can't stay. I have two men and a decently
running jeep waiting topside. Of course we'll need gasoline along the way
but I'm sure you've sucked enough hose to know the basics on how to
siphon gasoline and I'm sure there are lots of abandoned cars on the
interstate. So quit wasting time and let's go.”
“I said no,” Jerri answered. “Just let me go.”
Lt. Willow tilted his head and stared at her for a few moments.
“
Your
problem…?” he asked through gritted teeth. He took a
step towards her. “What about
my
problem? You and your infected crew
brought death to our doorstep! We lost EVERYTHING thanks to you!
There is a chance for us in Camp 6!”
“There is food… there is ammo… there are men. Fuck the
government. We can sustain
ourselves
…” Lt. Willow said in an exasperated
tone. He looked at her and narrowed his eyes. “But
you
ruined any chance
of that.”
“You’re wrong about Camp 6,” she explained. “It has none of
those things. A raiding party took over the camp. We lost everything…
Even before they attacked, things were falling apart. We never had
anything to offer you…”