Anywhere But Here (The Starborn Ascension) (25 page)

“Did any of you hear about a banishment from a couple of days ago?” Gabe asks.
 

“Yeah,” Ethan says. “But we didn’t want to ask too many questions.”

“I didn’t hear about it,” Gilbert says.
 

“She has a special ability like you, Waverly,” Gabe says. “Or was that just something this jerk came up with?” He points a thumb at Gilbert.
 

“No,” I say. “It’s real.”

“Yeah, well,” Gabe says. “This girl overheard Paxton talking with the raider. She has some crazy ability to hear things from far away or something, I don’t know. I’m looking to get to the bottom of it all.”

“So what about us?” Ethan asks. “Won’t they find out when you haven’t dropped us off at the warehouse?”

“I’m giving you the SUV,” he says. “There are weapons and supplies in the trunk space. I’ll tell them you three jumped me and took it so I had to walk back. They won’t be able to argue with that.”

“And where do you suggest we go from here?” Gilbert asks.
 

A bullet smashing through the windshield is his answer. The four of us duck down as more bullets slam into the SUV, ripping holes through the metal. I throw open my door and duck down. I can see Gabe running toward the woods to our left and I follow him. Bullets whiz by my head and I’m almost to the edge of the woods when my foot catches a rock and I fall hard to the ground. I’m about to pull myself from the ground when I look up and see that Scarecrow and his men are right on top of me.
 

It’s weird being back in Elkhorn after three years and it pains me to see everything that used to be beautiful and welcoming look like crap. The streets are littered with trash and abandoned cars. Many of the columns in front of the buildings are stained with blood which are remnants of when the military came in, trying to stop the chaos. The once-bustling buildings are now silent and empty. Well, I know they
aren’t
empty. I suppose I mean that they are empty of life. I can smell the decay in the air, the three years of rotting greyskins. People have another name for this place: the Epicenter. Most believe that this is where it all began. I guess it’s true. As a student here I didn’t think much about where the madness came from. None of us really had time to think. One day students were going to class, the next we were being attacked by these monsters that used to be people.
 

I will never forget the first greyskin I encountered. His name was Andy. I sat next to him in English class before the outbreak. He was a smart guy, but he didn’t talk much. That day, so many of us were running in a panic. I couldn’t find my friends. I remember seeing Andy and calling out to him. When he turned his head I could see that he had changed into one of them…one of those creatures. At that time, the greyskins were nameless. I’m not exactly sure where the word greyskin came from, probably the news, but the name described Andy well. His skin looked like ash and his eyes had darkened. I remember trying to call out to him, but when he came toward me I knew he wasn’t coming to my aid. He was coming to bite me, to scratch me, eat me. I remember seeing a police officer shoot him down right in front of me. I was in shock. The police officer was telling me to get somewhere safe, but before he could finish his sentence, two more greyskins were on top of him, ripping his skin from his bones.
 

Elkhorn is one of the last places I want to be right now. I'd rather be anywhere but here, but if I’m going to be allowed back into Crestwood, I need to find something out about Jessi Paxton. I know it’s probably a stupid idea. I know Paxton has probably sent me on a death mission, but what else can I do? It’s not like I know of any other safe haven. But if I can, I would like to be back at Crestwood, even if that means helping Gabe uncover whatever this plot is about Shadowface.
 

The grey clouds roll in through the distance, casting a dark shadow across the university.
It’s going to rain,
I think to myself. Rain is good for disguising steps, but it’s bad for keeping warm. As a gust of wind hits me from behind, I become more thankful of the coat Gabe gave me.
 

My enhanced hearing can sense the shuffling of greyskins all around me, though none of them have noticed my presence. I can see one or two in the street up ahead, but I won’t be going that way. I cut through an alley (something I hate to do with the limited space) because on the other side I will come to the road directly across from the university hospital.

It’s one of the last places that I want to go, but if Robert Paxton’s daughter is the same Jessi Paxton that I knew in college, then she was pregnant. If she was pregnant then she would have more than likely gone to the Elkhorn University Hospital to have the baby. If that was true, then they would have a medical record on her at the maternity ward. I know it’s a shot in the dark. There are so many factors that could go against me.

What if it’s not the same girl? What if she went home to have the baby? What if she never even had the baby? What if her name was actually Jessi Roberts and not Jessi Paxton and you’re just confused? What if you’re wrong? Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Don’t go into the hospital, stupid! Do you know how many greyskins will be in there? Go on, take a listen.
 

I try to ignore my inner voice as I approach the hospital parking lot. I duck behind a car when I see a greyskin in an EMT uniform walking through the forever-stuck sliding glass doors of the ER. I try to remember the inside of the hospital, but I’ve only been here once. When I was a freshmen, I had been playing intramural flag football and some jock decided to play tackle. Well, his tackle broke my ankle and he ended up taking me to the emergency room to get it fixed. I remember he tried to turn it into a silly, romantic moment that would send us spiraling into a life-long love affair like some cheesy chick-flick, but I quickly told him off, using language that would make a sailor blush. Needless to say, we didn’t go on any dates afterword.
 

I close my eyes trying to remember the layout of the ER, but all I can remember is the waiting room and having to sit there for two hours before someone would see me. I will have to go in and follow the signs like everyone else, I suppose. I’m glad Gabe thought to give me a machete along with the guns. Guns are great, but there is no way I would survive this hospital with them. One shot would be enough to bring about thirty greyskins down on me. Then I would be forced to shoot more. Then more greyskins would come. Here, there would be no end in sight.
 

I pull the newly sharpened blade from the sheath and hold it by the short handle. It’s a good weight in my hands and I like that the blade is longer than my forearm. The farther away from the greyskins, the better off I am. I stand up from behind the car and begin walking toward the entrance of the ER. The noise from inside tells me that there are many greyskins, but none within the immediate vicinity besides Mr. EMT. When the greyskin notices me, it lets out a short groan and starts making its way toward me. This one is slow; a foot drags as some bone protrudes through the middle of his pant leg. This one must have fallen down some steps.
 

I feel a rush of confidence as I swing forward and imbed the machete into the greyskin’s skull. Black blood splatters over my hands and the creature stops moving and falls to the cement with ease. I think about wiping off the blade for only a second before I realize that it’s pointless. The shuffling of feet within the hospital seems to be everywhere. I take a deep breath, knowing I’m going to have to face whatever is inside.

I crouch when I get to the front door. Peering around the corner, I see a dead body hunched over the side of the front desk. The halls beyond are dark and there are very few windows to light the way. There probably hasn’t been electricity in this building for two and a half years or more. At the front desk, the dead body’s head pulls up to look at me. Its aged decrepit chest, sticky with dried blood, is glued to the desktop. I can’t take a chance of this thing finding the strength to rip free and come after me so I lift my blade and stab it through the temple and it falls back down to its previous sleeping position.
 

I walk past the front desk and into the hallway beyond. On one of the walls there is a directory with all of the departments. My stomach drops when I see that the maternity ward is on the fourth floor. Why would they make pregnant ladies have to go up so many floors? Why would they make
me
go up so many floors?
 

I walk past the elevators and to the stairwell but I pause when I get to the door. I hate stairs. Ever since the outbreak, stairs have been my biggest fear. It’s the worst part of any building. First of all, when there are greyskins above you, it’s nearly impossible to get a good head stab in without getting too close. Then, when multiple greyskins are after you, running up makes you exhausted while the dead feel no tiredness. Running down, the greyskins just fall over each other without regard to their own safety, whereas you must take every step with caution, for a sprained ankle in a stairwell means becoming a greyskin’s dinner.

I hold my breath and try to listen beyond the door. I hear two, maybe three greyskins walking down the stairs toward the basement level and at least four greyskins on the landing just above me. I need to go to a different stairwell. Going up four flights just might prove too much. I turn my ear toward the hallway beyond, but I can’t even count the number of feet I hear walking slowly. It won’t do. Going down the hall will only bring more than I can handle while I’m fairly certain I can handle the four above me.
 

I open the door and step into the stairwell. I’m lucky because the greyskins seem to be walking up which means I should be able to take out at least two of them from behind before the others turn on me. I pause before going up. I can feel the jitters creeping into my limbs, but I know I can’t let it get to me.
 

I take each step as quietly as I can. The greyskins don’t even see me until I’ve got my blade stuck inside the skull of the first one. I pull it out and swipe at the next, clipping it at the jaw. The other two are screaming toward me. I slide the machete up under the chin of the one in front, but I’m forced to let go of the handle as the next greyskin grabs at my coat. I try not to let out a scream, but it’s almost impossible. The greyskins are not known for their sure footing so I reach out and grab it by the shoulders, and at the same time kick my foot at its ankles. It starts to fall down the flight of stairs but hangs upright only because of its death grip on my coat. I try to hit its grubby hands away from me, but it feels no pain. Its jaws chomp at me as it pulls itself back toward me to take a chunk of my flesh. Finally, I pull my arms from the sleeves and slip out of the coat and the greyskin tumbles down the stairs. Bones crack all the way down, its fingers still clutching my coat and taking my backpack and rifle with it. As I reach down and pull out the machete, I notice the greyskin that had been moving toward the basement must have sensed the commotion. Now it is running up the stairs toward me. It stumbles over the crumpled form of the greyskin clutching my coat and falls to its knees, crawling like an injured animal desperate to catch its dinner. I take one or two steps down and swing my machete into what’s left of its brain and it stops moving.
   

Despite the cold, I have to wipe the sweat from my forehead. I try not to let my hands shake, but there is no way to calm my nerves. My fingers tremble as I grip the machete and my knees quiver as I take the steps back down to the first floor. I can leave my coat, I can leave my backpack full of supplies, but I can’t leave my rifle even though the pistol is attached to my hip. I lean down and pry open the fingers of the greyskin, releasing my coat from its grip. I pull it on and sling the backpack over my shoulders. I then sling my rifle over my head where the strap crosses over my chest. Machete in hand, I tiptoe up the stairs quietly.
 

My ears tell me there’s nothing else between me and the fourth floor so I hurry my steps until I reach the door. When I put my ear up to the door, I don’t hear anything. I open it and step into the hallway. My heart pounds in my ears and I’m afraid it might keep me from hearing what’s ahead. One after the other my feet carry me forward. A glance at a sign hanging from the ceiling tells me that the maternity ward is on the other side of the wing. It’s probably only a few hundred feet away, but it looks like miles. The walk there is quiet enough, however. I try to listen for any movement ahead, but there is still nothing. I feel a sense of relief once I stand in front of the door of the maternity ward because I can see the registration desk only a few feet in front of me, a wall of filing cabinets lined behind the desk chair.
 

I open the door and sneak through quietly and search the filing cabinets.
P…P…I can’t see a thing.
I pull off my backpack and unzip the top. Maybe Gabe provided me with a flashlight. I sort through the bag,
a can of beans… tuna… Swiss Army Knife…flashlight!
I pull it out and switch it on, scanning the filing cabinets for
P.
Once I find it, I open it as slowly as possible and I see about a million files. It’s a good thing Elkhorn University Hospital’s Maternity Ward still used a paper system. When I had come to the ER, I found it annoying to fill out all that paperwork, but I’m glad now.
 

I flip through the first ones until I finally come to the name Paxton.
Paxton… Paxton… Paxton…
There are eight Paxtons, total. I thumb through the first file and I hear a noise down the hall. I let a curse pass my lips in a whisper and I switch off the light. I listen for more movement, but it sounds like it’s just one greyskin at the other end moving about aimlessly. I flip on the flashlight again and pick up the next file.
Not her.
The next file isn’t her. Then the next. On the fifth file, I start to lose hope that Jessi had her baby at Elkhorn University Hospital. Maybe she didn’t have the baby at all.