Cruel World (36 page)

The air was filled with shouts and gunfire, but below it all was the deep, sickening vibration coming from outside the walls. Quinn ran several yards to his left and dove behind a semi-collapsed tent before rising enough to look around.

Bracken’s army was on the walls and firing through gaps in the concrete pillars. They yelled incoherently—no real orders or defined direction, only panic and disarray. Several of the men were turning in circles searching for something. And when one of them spotted Bracken’s lifeless body, they ran to him, crouching by his side before standing and scanning the tents.

Quinn ducked back down. Rain dripped off his nose, and he rubbed the blood from his eyes again before chancing another look. The two men were closer, their attention torn between the tents and the battle raging behind them. One of them yelled something, and a round shredded a hole in the tent beside Quinn’s head. He brought the pistol up and fired twice at both men, re-centering the sights after each recoil. There was a cry of pain as one went down clutching his stomach. The other turned and ran, firing blindly over one shoulder.

Quinn stood and was about to run toward the opposite end of the camp when one of the tall barricades began to rock. Long fingers wrapped over its top and pulled. The barrier tipped and fell outward, tearing away the weak supports that bound it to the others on either side.

Beyond the wall was a sea of pale flesh.

Thousands of stilts lurched toward the walls, their long bodies twisting and turning as they clawed their way forward.

The first stilt stepped into the compound and roared. Someone shot it through the chest. It cried out and fell to its knees, swiping a woman off the scaffolding as it dropped. The woman screamed and hit the ground hard on her side. She tried to regain her feet, but even from the distance he stood, Quinn could see her arm hanging away from her body at an odd angle. The wounded stilt reached out with the last of its strength and pulled her to its mouth, biting the top of her skull off, her scream drowning in its throat.

More of the creatures streamed through the gap in the wall. The fighters held for a beat and then scattered, running from the stilts in every direction. A twenty-foot-tall beast snatched a man from the ground and gripped him in both of its skeletal hands before wrenching him apart at the waist. A smaller stilt had cornered two men who’d run out of ammo, its arms spread apart as if herding cattle. One of the men tried to run tight to the wall and was flattened as the barricade he was passing tipped forward and hammered him to the ground.

The open space of the compound was awash with stilts feeding and people running. Pure chaos.

Quinn ducked low and ran.

He pelted down the rows of tents, breath stinging in his chest, back and head aching from where he’d hit the stairs. Screams of the dying behind him mingled with the stilt’s roars, chasing him as he fled.

Collincz appeared through the rain, her rifle centered on his chest as he skidded to a stop.

“What the hell’s going on up there?”

“They’re inside; we have to go!” Quinn panted, taking off around her.

“Who’s inside? What about the others?” she asked, running beside him while throwing looks back over her shoulder.

“They’re dead; they’re all dead.”

A body sailed over Collincz’s head and crashed through one of the last tents in a row. It ragdolled to a stop, and he barely registered that the corpse was decapitated before barreling past it. There were a few more stuttering barks of gunfire behind them and then more cries of pain echoed out of the mist.

Ahead, the doctor’s building materialized, and Alice was standing in the doorway, eyes wide at the sight of them running toward her.

“Go! We have to run. Get Ty,” Quinn said, sliding to a stop. Alice dashed inside as Holtz moved toward them, his face drawn tight, skull-like in the dim light.

“What is it?”

“They’re inside the walls. We have to move. Now!” Quinn said, grasping the older man by the arm. He pulled the doctor into the rain as Alice appeared carrying Ty, Denver trotting behind her. Without a word, she transferred Ty to him, and he hugged the boy close as he turned to Collincz.

“Is there another way out?”

A scream cut the air followed by a rumbling croak. Collincz glanced to the front of the compound. Quinn grabbed her uniform and jerked her forward.

“Is there another way out?” he said, his face inches from hers. She blinked and then nodded.

“There’s a reinforced access door at the very back behind the mine.”

“Let’s go,” he said, beginning to skirt the tent. Alice kept pace beside him, but they halted as Collincz yelled something.

The soldier was standing between them and Holtz, who wore a sad smile. He had drawn his wallet out and pulled a picture from inside.

“Doctor, come on!” Collincz called.

“I think that I might be of more use here since I was unable to do my job properly.” He glanced down at the photo before looking at them again. “Godspeed,” he said, and ducked back inside the tent. Collincz made to move in his direction when a man came hurtling out of the rain, his eyes wild, mouth open. A hand reached out from the mist and plucked him off the ground like a child playing with a toy. The man didn’t have time to scream before the stilt swung him up and bashed him into the ground headfirst. He remained rigid for a second, his legs and torso sticking up from the mud, then fell sideways in a pile of lifeless flesh. The stilt that killed him gazed at his body for a second and then looked up at them, its lips pulling back from yellowed teeth.

Collincz raised her rifle and shot it through the eye. It dropped where it stood.

Another tall form emerged through the rain. Then another.

“Go,” Quinn whispered to Alice. They ran.

The mine opened up in a yawning of earth so deep it made him dizzy to look at it. The ground between the edge of the pit and the concrete barricade narrowed as they went, their footsteps and breathing the only sounds now. Quinn glanced over his shoulder at Collincz who jogged behind them. As he watched, she stopped and dropped to a knee before firing three controlled bursts from her rifle. Something croaked near the doctor’s tent and then a concussive blast shook the air.

They stopped and spun, seeing a plume of fire rise from where the medical building used to be. It licked into the soaking air before falling away, steam rushing up in its place. They turned and continued on the path, its width dwindling the further they went. Ty’s arms were locked around his neck, face buried against his shoulder, and he cradled him, muscles beginning to burn. They followed a curve in the mine’s edge and slowed, climbing over a small washout that held loose sand and rock. On the other side, the land sloped, narrowing to a glorified ledge. Quinn took a tentative step onto its slim offering.

The ground slid away.

They were falling, sliding down amidst tumbling dirt and sucking mud. Alice let out a shriek, and Quinn tried to stabilize himself and Ty by falling to his back. For a horrifying second, gravity threatened to flip them forward into the abyss of open air but then they were stopping, his feet gaining purchase. Alice tumbled beside him on all fours, barely holding onto the shelf they rested on. Collincz and Denver were nearby still on their feet.

They had fallen down to the next step in the inverted pyramid, the following drop beside them almost double the first descent and twice as steep.

“Everyone okay?” Quinn asked in a low voice. They nodded their assent, except Ty who only clung tighter to him. “Let’s go,” he said, leading the way along the new level. The mine wall began to curve more as they hurried along its lip. Quinn peered ahead trying to make out the rear face of the pit, but the rain was falling harder, obscuring everything to a silver vapor. He kept his eyes on the ground ahead of them, looking for the signs of another weak spot that would send them all tumbling to their deaths below. After minutes that seemed like hours, Collincz called out and they stopped. She made her way to Quinn and glanced around, her blond hair plastered to her skull.

“The door’s somewhere near here,” she said, squinting against the rain. “Let’s try climbing up at the next possible route.” He nodded and was about to take a step when Alice grabbed his arm.

“Look,” she said, pointing down into the depths of the mine.

Tall shapes were moving across its floor, barely discernable through the storm.

There were hundreds of them.

“Oh God. They smell the bodies,” Collincz said, raising her weapon. Alice grasped the soldier’s arm, and they moved forward as one. After another minute, they came to a chasm of larger rock running perpendicular to the ledges. It looked like some kind of drainage channel. Quinn placed his feet on a heavy boulder and tested it. It didn’t shift.

“Get on my back, buddy,” he said, kneeling down. Ty swung around, re-gripping his arms around Quinn’s neck and digging his knees into his sides. Quinn stepped out on the column of rock and began to climb. “Put your hands and feet where I do,” he said over his shoulder to the women. He moved slow and sure, testing each hold before placing his weight on it. Luckily the section of rock wasn’t completely vertical but ran upwards in a steep slant. As he climbed, he was transported back to a cliff ledge overlooking the ocean, searching for the right place to secure himself. He gave in to the vision, ignoring the ache in his muscles, the choking pressure of Ty’s arms around his neck, the rain slicking the holds, the throbbing roars in the mine below.

Then he was at the top, pulling himself onto a wider expanse of dirt beside the barrier. A short distance away was a broad steel door set between two of the pillars, a heavy iron bar bolted across its middle.

Quinn gently released Ty to the ground and turned to help Alice up the last feet of the slope. Collincz came next and then Denver, who climbed up the rock in a surefooted lunge of muscle. When he turned around, Collincz was already at the door, digging for something in her uniform pocket. The rain pounded down, and he hugged Alice and Ty tight to him, relishing the feel of them safe for a moment. Below, the grunts and croaks of the stilts filtered up to them.

“Hopefully they haven’t surrounded the entire compound,” Collincz said, pulling out a small ring of keys. She selected one and shoved it into the lock securing the bar across the door. She turned it, and the lock popped free.

A stilt lunged out of the rain and swiped Collincz away from the door.

She flew into the open air over the mine and fell out of sight without a sound, her blond hair waving as she plummeted.

“No!” Quinn yelled, bringing up the pistol. The stilt bellowed, opening its mouth wide as it charged. He fired twice, both bullets blasting teeth apart as they ripped through the stilt’s mouth and out of the back of its skull. It fell forward, bouncing off the edge of the pit before rolling down and out of sight.

There was more movement along the path ahead, long forms striding forward.

Quinn grabbed the bar on the door and yanked it up and away. He grasped the handle and pulled. The door opened into a rain-drenched field. Alice raced past him carrying Ty, and Denver followed, bounding out through the open door. Quinn aimed at the next stilt that appeared through the rain, the shot punching it in the chest as the pistol locked open and empty. He shoved the gun in the back of his pants and slammed the door shut behind them.

He ran.

In a few steps, he caught up to them, and they fled across the field. Over his shoulder, the door remained closed until the last time he looked and could no longer make out its shape through the rain.

The field sloped downward and entered a slash of poplar, their white trunks scarred with black knots. They plunged through the forest, which opened to a field already green with sprouts only inches high. Across the plain was a driveway leading to a farm, its red silo towering above the flatness of the land.

“There,” Quinn gasped, relieving Alice of Ty’s weight. They rested for a minute, listening for the sounds of breaking branches above the rain. When they continued, Ty shook with cold against Quinn’s chest, and Alice was limping heavily.

They made it to the farmhouse, breaking a pane of glass in the front door to gain entry. It was blessedly warm and dry inside without a hint of decay in the air. Quinn set Ty down and found a blanket to cover him with while Alice searched the pantry for food.

“We need to leave as soon as possible,” Quinn said on his way to the attached garage.

“I know,” Alice replied, not looking up from where she gathered canned goods and boxes of crackers.

Along with a newer model Chevy pickup, there was a faint stench in the garage. In the empty space beside the truck, he saw its source. Two empty nooses hung from a rafter, their loops cinched to the size of a fist. Below them on the floor were two sets of crusted clothing and glasses in separate piles beside a pair of overturned chairs. Quinn looked at the clothing for a while and then checked the truck for keys.

The keys weren’t in the ignition but hung from a peg near the entrance to the garage inside the house. By the time he returned to the kitchen, Alice had found a plastic bag and filled it with as much food as it would hold.

“There’s no water here,” she said, gathering a stack of blankets.

“That’s okay; we’ll find some on the way.”