Their fingers straining to hold the doors close as they squeezed the handles. Their knuckles turned white and their knees ached. They were losing as their feet started to slide across the floor.
“Here!” Maggie rushed over with a large metal rod.
“Put it through the handles!” Alex clenched her teeth.
Maggie pushed it through the rod scraping their fingers. The sudden pain made them let go in shock. Luckily the bar was in place and it held the door close, at least for now. Both stepped back and listened to the sounds of scratching, of snarling and pounding. Two doors of metal separated them from those things but it didn’t feel like it was enough.
“Where did you get that?” Petey asked.
Maggie pointed to where some boxes were tipped over. Metal rods littered the floor. Alex walked over and examined the pieces closely. The boxes looked like they had been kicked repeatedly. Picking up a U-shaped one and turned it over in her hands.
“They’re pipes; like for plumbing or something.” She snickered “Guess we can rule out indoor bathrooms.”
She dropped the pipe and picked up two straighter pipes. Looking at Maggie she bit her tongue, she wanted to hit her. She drew the attention of those monsters, she almost killed them instead she swallowed the blood she drew.
“Here” Shoving a pipe into Maggie’s hand.
Alex gripped her machete in one hand as she carelessly carried it on her shoulder. She walked between the metal tables stopping in the center of it all. She raised the metal rod and slammed it hard on the table. When nothing happened she did it again and again. The fourth time Petey called for her, she stopped midway.
“What the hell are you doing?” He asked anxiously.
“If there are any monsters in here we draw them pout and kill them before they sneak up on us.” She explained.
She slammed the rod down again and left no room for discussion as she continued ten more times. Nothing came from the shadows nothing moved in the distance. The only noise was the horrors of the outside and a small ringing sound now nestled in their ears. Alex tossed the piece of metal to the floor. She was ready to pack her machete back into her side when a loud clank came from the far end of the long shed. The three raised their weapons and inched towards the end to remove the threat. They came upon a half opened door. Alex pushed the door open to reveal a small room. It was quite cramped compared to the largeness of the rest of the shed. However it was big enough to hold what looked to be a radio and a few tables.
“This must be where they called us from.” Petey said.
Alex couldn’t do anything or say anything. Only two days ago here sister was right here and she had spoken to her. God she wanted to scream and break something like she had done before but it wasn’t time for that.
A groan struck their ears and spun towards the sound. Against the wall say a soldier no more then twenty-nine. His head was shaven but bits of black hair had begun to poke out already. In his hands he gripped a bottle of whiskey half filled as if it was his saving grace. Kicking his shoe none to gently the soldier groaned again and his head rolled in annoyance. Alex lowered her machete and leaned down. She took a deep breath in and chocked on the smell.
“He’s alive, just drunk.” She said pissed.
The only person they’ve come across that’s alive and he was drunk off his ass. Yeah, this was going to end well.
12
“Should we wake him?” Maggie sniffed the air.
The smell of whiskey was suffocating and disgusting. Alex searched his camouflage jacket for his name or something. She could see silver chains peaking out from under the collar of his shirt. She figured they were dog tags. Reaching out to grab them she stopped half way, something didn’t feel right about touching them. It felt too personal of an item to grab without permission.
Alex moved closer to his body, the smell of sorrow made her stomach twist. She took the bottle from his grip and settled it on the floor before it could spill over. She reached around his waist, patting him down carefully and found a gun. She yanked it from his holster; dropped the clip from the semi-automatic, popped the bullet from the chamber before passing it back to Petey. Alex continued to look for any other weapons.
Gently she tapped the soldier’s face trying to wake him. He groaned and swatted her offending hand away. The action nearly made her fall on her ass. Alex let out a quiet growl and tapped his face again, none too gently this time.
“Hey buddy, wake up.” She gave a hard smack on the last word.
His eyes opened with much protest his. His eyes were a pale green. She let out a breath; she didn’t know she was holding in, at the color of his eyes. His gaze was unsteady but he tried hard to focus on the woman kneeling in front of him. Her tan skin meshed with her black hair causing nothing more then a dark blurred figure to him.
“Who are you?” He grunted out.
His voice raspy as if he hadn’t used it in a while. Although from the smell of his breath it may have been the after effects of the whiskey’s burn. Alex rolled her eyes and clenched her fist to herself from smacking him again.
“An angel.” She spat out. “Are you the only one left?”
“I thought angels were supposed to be nice.” His lips curved into what he assumed was a smile. He scratched the top of his head.
“I’m on sabbatical.” She replied sarcastically. “Are you the only one left?”
“Everyone…yeah, I’m the only one left.” He sounded heartbroken.
On the verge of tears his gaze lost focus. Alex’s anger dimmed at the look. Her body relaxed, she wanted to place a hand on his shoulder but she didn’t. They were so close and she needed to find what happened.
“What about the civilians? Did they make it out?” She spoke, almost begging.
He answered with a scoff as he reached for the bottle to finish. Her empathy faded as quickly as it came. She snatched the bottle from his lips and smashed it hard on the ground. A lake of whiskey and glass formed by their side. The soldier sat up to shout at this insane person but all that came was a pained howl.
He looked at the source of his pain. It was the neck of the bottle; its jagged edges were resting in his leg. Gripping the mouth was the dark haired women’s hand. She pulled it out and he groaned in agony. His hands moved over it to keep the blood from gushing out. Luckily no stray pieces stayed behind.
“Oh good, you’re sober.” She snarled.
“What the hell?” The redhead behind her screeched.
The soldier’s eyes widen in fury and pain as he could clearly see her face now and that of her two companions behind her. The look of horror and fear on their faced differed greatly to that of the person kneeling in front him. Her face mirror more his then their’s.
“You’re fucking insane.” He gritted out.
Not satisfied with the comment Alex raised her broken glass again fully intending to give his other leg a matching wound. Halfway through her descent a hand wrapped around her wrist and another pulled her collar knocking her off balance.
She scrambled up the adrenaline coursing through her veins; she was ready to attack anybody who dare touch her. She gripped the neck of the broken bottle painfully until her eyes connect with Petey’s. His hands were raised in defense even though he believed Alex wouldn’t hurt him. She just needed to be reminded of her surroundings. Alex lowered her head and stopped out of the way allowing him to take control. Petey leaned down towards the soldier not bothering to kneel.
The soldier grunted in pain as he examined the small wound. It wasn’t really that bad or bleeding that much even with jagged edges, the glass had made a clean cut. His pride was more injured than anything. He kept heated eyes on the angry woman; her body was tense like a cat ready to pounce. Petey snapped his fingers bringing the attention to him.
The soldier examined the ginger in front of him. He pondered how hair could be so red and a face, have so many freckles. His eyes appeared to be more understanding then the brunettes’. He shook his head and leaned away from them, letting the wound on his let bleed freely.
“It’s been difficult to get here. We’re tired and just want to know what happened.” Petey’s voice was leveled. “This was supposed to be a safe place.”
The soldier dropped his eyes and mentally scolded himself. These were just kids looking for some safety or at least two of them were. He rubbed his chin and tried to clear up his thoughts to better explain what had happened to the base. Even though he wasn’t entirely sure either.
“An infected got in and we tried to control the situation. People panicked and started running around not listening.” He looked pleadingly at the three. “Plan was for everyone to come in here and we’d protect them but instead they took off in different directions. Nobody bothered to follow protocol, not even some of our own men. We never even saw the infected coming.”
“Why are you in here then?” Petey asked.
“After everything…everyone had fallen I was the only one left. Came in here to call for help from other bases but no answers. Figured I’d have myself a drink before I joined them.” He answered.
Petey stepped away, the air thinned. They all knew something like this was possible but to this extreme. Not another soul. No other bases.
“You said they ran, right?” He nodded to Alex’s question. “So there’s a chance that some got away.”
The soldier narrowed his eyes not from anger but from recognition. He suddenly knew this person but how? What was so familiar about her voice that all of sudden he felt his heart twist. Then from the depth of his mind it came to him.
“I recognize your voice.” He grinned sadistically. “Fuck chances, right?”
Alex stiffened at the words. She raised her weapon again and stomped towards the soldier, ready to gut the man. She would have shed more blood if Petey had not intervened. He used body to block her and pried the glass out of her hand.
“Give me that.” He scolded. “You, sociopath.”
Petey rubbed his head in frustration. People needed to stop attacking people. He turned back to the soldier who was mindlessly making circles in the spilled whiskey. A somber look at his fallen drink.
“How did this happen?” Petey asked.
“Does it matter?” The soldier asked indifferently.
Petey leaned down closer to the soldier forcing him to make eye contact. Their eyes meshed into swirls of green. Alex watched with concern at how Petey was acting. It appeared that he had reached the end of his rope too.
“Answer the question or I give her back the glass.” Petey threatened.
The soldier searched for any tell in the man’s eyes but find none. He glanced past him to the woman, she was standing with her arms crossed and smirked. He believed bother of them and nodded. Petey moved away as the soldier stood up, using the wall to support himself. He hissed as pain shot through his leg.
“Chemical warfare.” He uttered.
“I thought the Geneva Convention stopped that from happening?” Petey asked.
“Yeah, that’s done well.” He scoffed at him. “A worthless piece of paper.”
Alex pushed in between the two men. The level of testosterone was overbearing and they were getting no where. She drew the man’s attention to her.
“Who did this?” She asked.
The soldier stood up straight ignoring the pain in his body; he felt the need to prepare for another attack. He saw the broken glass had gone to the floor but there was still a weapon that rested on the woman’s hip. He had no doubt she would use it on him. It was already stained with blood. He sighed giving into their questions.
“Some terrorist group, they figured it was a good idea to bomb all major cities.”
“What do you mean by all major cities?” Alex asked.
The soldier dropped his eyes all instinct to defend was gone as despair filled the room. He didn’t know why but he led them from the corner of the room. Lipping towards a small table off to the other side. They followed cautious of all his movements.
All over the table were maps of different cities, different states and different countries. All those maps were riddled with red stickers, there was so much red. They didn’t need to be told what all the red meant.
“Welcome to the end of the world.” The soldier said.
He wasn’t sure why he said it. He thought that maybe they needed to know that this was really the end. They didn’t need fair tales or false hope, he wanted them to accept the truth, and it seemed they had.
The ginger that protected him, his back hit a wall and slide down. Curling his legs to his chest and dropping his head onto his knees. The blonde, whom he took no really notice of, walked out into the mesa hall. Floating like a ghost, she fell to her knees all light gone from her eyes. He looked at the angry one, the one that had stabbed him and excepted the same result. Instead she stood perfectly still, staring down at the maps. Her face unreadable; he didn’t know what to think of her. He didn’t want to think anymore either. He stumbled past them into the darkness of the shed, might as well get comfortable.