The Phoenix Trilogy (Book 1): World On Fire (20 page)

    His
fingers came down to form a two, noting walkers in the hall. When he went to
identify how many, he hesitated. First one, then three, then four, BJ doing his
best to make out figures in the dark.

    Natalie
also noted that the cord to the lamp was laced through his signaling hand,
following from the plug in the wall down to the floor, before running through
Rico’s fingers. She had thought it was a Hell of a coincidence that Rico had
hit the light just as BJ began to sign, but like everything else she’d
encountered with the group, it was just more careful planning. BJ tugs the cord;
Rico hits the lights.

    The
briefly unsettling thought that those who had been killed here were probably
just as capable was one that Natalie immediately shoved from her mind. It was a
losing battle, her pessimism creeping in despite her best efforts, when a
growling from beyond the door cut through her internal struggle.

    Suddenly,
two thoughts clicked into place. The first was that Natalie didn’t believe
there was any hiding place down the hall, so if the stranger had headed deeper
into the building to evade the dead, he had backed himself into a corner. The
second was that she had no idea how well those things could see in the dark. A
grim voice in her head informed her that she was very likely about to find out.

    As
she had predicted, the snarl outside turned into a choked howl, and the
thundering of rushing feet was pierced by a strangled yelp. Natalie began to
feel a surge of guilt, certain that the man outside was about to meet a
terrible fate.

    They
couldn’t have let him in, and she knew that, but it didn’t change the fact that
she was once again playing a part in someone’s death through complacency. Now
she had to either allow herself to drown in misery over her inaction, or harden
her heart to these kinds of plights in the future. Neither choice was
comforting; suffer for the sake of her humanity or abandon it just to be safe.

    A
dull epiphany struck her as she realized, through her musing, she had heard no
screaming. In fact, the clatter of movement had subsided, now reduced to echoes
coming from further away. The stranger had retreated deeper into the building,
and the hunters had pursued.

    Natalie
was harboring a weak hope that whoever had sought refuge with them would find a
way to escape the dead. After all, she and the others had managed to lose the
horde inside a building just a few short hours ago. Who could say if this
attempt would be any less successful?

    A
crashing sound from above them informed the party that the chase had been taken
to the next floor. That wasn’t the best sign; unless he could find a fire
escape or secretly knew how to fly, he was going to be caught between a rock
and a hard place.

    Natalie
was getting ready to ask BJ what they should do when a sudden pounding at the
door caused the group to take a step backward.

    “Let
me in, Goddamnit! Let me in! You heard them out there, let me in let me in!”
The fever-pitched cry was unmistakable. Somehow, their stranger had led the
dead astray and found his way back. It was an impressive enough feat, but Natalie
knew it wouldn’t avail him entry. Nothing had changed. They couldn’t afford the
risk, and that meant the door stayed closed.

    BJ’s
hand blurred as he signed something too quickly for Natalie to follow, but a
heartbeat later she was being hauled aside by Marco and the lights went dead.
Out of reflex, she nearly squawked her surprise before a hand clamped firmly
over her mouth.

    “Gun.
Keep your head down, and stay quiet. The door will hold.” Marco’s voice came
out in a hoarse whisper, but he relaxed his grip and released his hold over
Natalie. Her skin was prickling, suddenly picturing a hail of bullets pouring
through the door, any one liable to strike a soft target inside. The voice
outside had risen to a yell, a twist of madness and desperation flavoring its
note.

    “Fuck
you! Fuck
all
of you! Let me in or I swear to God you’ll regret it!” The
rush of noise upstairs had been working its way past them, suggesting the
undead were moving down the hallway just above theirs. With the outsider’s howling,
the pattern reversed itself, and the sound of bodies crashing over each other
receded back to the stairwell. They were coming back.

    The
stranger knew it, too. A gunshot rang out, the sound of splintering wood
following so quickly behind that Natalie wasn’t sure if she imagined it. A
weighty kick against the door came next, and Natalie’s breath caught. He was
trying to shoot out the lock, but after another failed attempt, Natalie
realized it was a fruitless effort.

    Marco
had been right. The soldiers before them had wasted no resource in ensuring
that the door would stand up to all manner of abuse, and it was holding up its
end of the bargain. It barely rattled under the force of the blows, a result
that prompted the man outside to fire twice more.

    A
spike of panic welled up within Natalie, the thought of a stray bullet finding
one of them growing more and more pronounced. She would never have believed
herself capable of feeling grateful to the undead, but at this point, they
seemed to be the only way to make the shooting stop. Or at least, make it
change targets.

    A
sudden hunting cry sounded their arrival, and Natalie exhaled a heavy sigh of
relief. The walkers had discovered their prey once again, and with their fervor
reignited, the stranger was forced to abandon his attempts at entry.

    Three
more gunshots in rapid succession split the air, these ones seemingly aimed at
the undead no-doubt barreling down the hall. Heavy thudding sounds were quickly
accompanied by angry screeches, indicating that the gunman had managed to at
least stall the hunters’ advance.

    There
was another howled threat from the outsider, now muddled too badly with the
cries of the dead to be heard clearly, and a sudden burst of movement from BJ’s
corner. Natalie was able to process a single word before he slammed into Rico,
bearing both of them to the ground:
Grenade.

    
Everything that followed after was chaos.
There had been a brief flash that poured through the bullet holes in the door
before the walls were torn apart. A roar of disintegrated drywall blew inside,
overtaking the apartment like a blizzard of wood, plaster, and blood.

    Natalie’s
entire head rattled, her skull aching with an intensity that she had never
experienced before. She was barely aware of her mouth wrap being pulled up
around her nose by Marco, followed quickly by her goggles being lowered onto
her eyes, but she did feel a weak warmth that at least he was okay.

    The
world had been returned to pitch black darkness, and with the ringing in her
ears she was completely unable to decipher what was happening. Her body was
numb with shock, but her sense of smell was able to pick up on the distinct
coppery aroma of blood coupled with foul sickness. That scent was like a breath
of smelling salts, and Natalie’s adrenaline began to kick in as she regained
her composure with a panicked start.

    Questions
assailed her foggy mind, spikes of concern for the others punctuating the
roiling din that was dampening her senses. She started to move before Marco
pinned her back down. Her instincts were screaming that she had to get up and
go, but his grip was insistent: now was the time to stay put.

    Playing
dead was an excruciating experience; being forced to sit down and wait without
knowing what condition their party was in or what was going to come next. Every
second that passed brought a small respite from the intensity of her need to
move, as well as steadily more apparent pain in her limbs. The detonation had
showered her in debris, and she had no doubt that some portion of that had done
at least superficial damage.

    
Assuming
I didn’t just get tagged with something that’s going to infect me. Or that I
didn’t breathe it in before Marco wrapped my face, or get it in my eyes.

    Being
forced to wait with no company but her thoughts was proving to be torture. She
was alive, true, though she could also be infected. The others might be in
worse shape, and they certainly weren’t going to magically be better off.
Dully, she realized that the most she could wish for was that everyone would be
equally screwed in their new predicament. It was an epiphany that did not
provide her with a great deal of hope.

    Moment
by moment, Natalie’s senses returned. The horrid odor blanketing the room only
got worse as she improved, but at least her ears seemed to be working again.
There was some kind of commotion going on… outside? She shook her head, trying
to reorient herself, but her first guess seemed to be correct. The ruckus was
coming from the direction of the street.

    Natalie
tried to block it out, instead focusing on the sound of breath or movement,
anything that would indicate BJ and Rico were safe. She couldn’t make out any
other sounds, but noted that Marco was right next to her and she couldn’t hear
his breathing, either.

    Even
so, her impatience was growing. She needed to check on them, and then they
needed to get the Hell out of this place. Natalie bit down hard on her tongue,
trying to create a focus point that wasn’t centered on the mess they were in.

     Panicking
wasn’t going to help, obviously, but she wasn’t making any headway explaining
that to her baser impulses. The action in the street sounded like it was dying
down, and Natalie nearly howled with relief as the men began to rise.
Apparently that was their cue to get moving.

    “No
more breaks. We’re getting to the outpost, now. Thirty seconds to get your gear
and we’re gone.” BJ’s voice was hoarse, but Natalie couldn’t see if he was
okay. There was the weakest of light filtering into the hall from the street,
enough to make out vague shadows but little more.

    As
Natalie set to work securing her gear as quickly as she could, she realized
that the light was only visible because the entire wall had been destroyed,
their heavy door lying flat now that its support had been removed. She’d always
known grenades were destructive, but this massive collapse was unexpected.

    
Not
like the video games. Not at all. Jesus.
Natalie’s hands had begun to
shudder, and it became less and less likely that she was going to be able to
finish packing in time for BJ’s ultimatum, especially in the dark. All of her
supplies were accounted for and ready to go, but her sleeping kit was still
unrolled.

    Natalie
had no time to check on it when BJ grunted, a noise she took to mean that their
time was up. Briefly, she contemplated saying something, but she let it go. It
was more important that they get out, and if BJ was right, they were going to
make it to the outpost before they made camp again.

    Natalie
didn’t like the idea of leaving anything of use behind, and it bothered her
that she was going to have to admit her novice mistake. She was halfway through
picturing how BJ would react when a pack was pushed into her chest. It was her
kit, rolled tight and ready to go, and it was followed by a supportive squeeze
on her shoulder.
Rico. Hah. Of course.

    
A sudden flash of light ahead of her
showed BJ had cracked the flashlight that sat on the top of his rifle,
surveying the damage and verifying that they weren’t going to be in for any
sudden surprises. It was a risky move, but trying to blindly pick their way
through the carnage wasn’t a wise decision. While BJ seemed unfazed by their
surroundings, Natalie had to do a double-take.

    The
mess was too much to process, flesh and blood dusted along the ragged remains
of the walls around them. The ceiling had been torn apart, and it looked like
the building had suffered a cave-in. How they had managed to survive was beyond
her, but what really threw her off had nothing to do with their environment at
all.

    Rico
was standing by BJ ahead of her, his eyes raking one end of the hall while
their fearless leader examined the other, each ensuring that their pathway was
clear. Just ahead of her, with his back now turned as he made his way toward
the others, was Marco. Natalie might have smiled if she’d had the energy.

    With
Rico nowhere near, that meant the man who had packed up Natalie’s kit and taken
a moment to reassure her was Marco. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised that he
wasn’t a complete asshole, but his nice gesture left her uncertain of what to
make of him.

    Natalie
suspected that Marco’s suddenly kind nature had more to do with their group’s
constant insistence on being near death rather than anything resembling actual
growth, but it was better than nothing. Even she had to admit that it was a lot
easier to be sentimental when the odds for survival weren’t exactly in your
favor. As Natalie tried to carefully pick her way through the wreckage, she
found herself running low on hope. The situation outside of their apartment
reinforced her concerns for the future.

     In
the hall, the smell was even worse, regardless of how tightly her mouth wrap
was pulled. She hadn’t been able to see what actually happened when the grenade
detonated, and what little light that found its way into the building wasn’t
nearly enough to give her a picture of their surroundings. Between the brief
glimpse that BJ’s flashlight had provided and the overwhelming stench of gore,
Natalie guessed that the zombies who had been outside the door were literally
pulverized by the explosion.