Resurrection (Apocalypse Chronicles Part II) (2 page)

“But they can still help,” he argued.

“They who?” Ms. Kremil snapped. “You’re not listening to me! The CDC is gone. They are all gone! Everyone left! There is no military! There is no government! There is no CDC! Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I replied flatly.

Somehow she mustered the energy for a scream. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

“Yes,” I pronounced, more firmly this time.

“We understand what you’re saying,” Harrison stated for reassurance.

“No one will come for you. No one will look for you. No one will help you. Find a lab. Find a scientist. Find a vaccine. You two-” She halted to fight back a gurgle before one final push to deliver her dismal warning, “Are our last hope.”

And then she was gone, finally succumbing to the disease she had been warning us about. The only sound that followed was the slumping of her lifeless body and then a sudden thrashing as she slammed against the wall with a loud thump-thump-thump.

A gunshot, the blast of which lit the hallway, stopped her and just before the darkness consumed us again I saw her body fall limply to the side, the muzzle remaining pointed at her from where Harrison stood.

A few seconds passed and the grating of metal sliding against metal filled the hallway, and I knew Harrison had slung the rifle over his shoulder. The threat was gone now. It was only us left. There was no more heavy breathing, no groaning, no words of wisdom or warning. Silence was all that remained.

I opened my mouth to call out to Harrison but the brush of his skin against me stopped the words in my throat. His fingers slipped tenderly into mine before he muttered curiously to himself, “You two… She said ‘you two’…You two are our last hope.”

“Yes, she did. What are you getting at?” I asked, not entirely certain I wanted clarification.

He drew in a breath and sighed. Again, it was slow, contemplative, and seemingly more to understand it himself than to explain it to me. “If I’m carrying the antibodies, what part, Kennedy, do you play?”

That
was an excellent question. And in response, I stood just as mute and perplexed as him.

I didn’t own any special talents, not in the way Harrison did. I couldn’t distinguish smells more than fifteen feet from my nose. I couldn’t hear a branch breaking several hundred yards away. I couldn’t see the detail of blood on a person’s lips unless he was within arm’s reach. So why had Ms. Kremil thrown me into that neat little destiny called “humanity’s last hope” when only the truly spectacular, namely Harrison, had the right to be bestowed the title? There was absolutely no immediate, clearly defined reason and it left us both dumbfounded.

A few fleeting seconds passed before Harrison spoke again, his voice suddenly thick with tension.

“Kennedy-” he began to say.

His mannerisms could mean only one thing, so I saved him the breath and finished the sentence for him.

“Run.”

And we did, just as I picked up on what Harrison’s acute hearing had seconds earlier…the pounding of footsteps against the carpet on the opposite side of the door we’d just come through.

My feet found the first two steps without a problem, but in the dark I couldn’t interpret the distance to the third one, and Harrison knew there wasn’t time for me to figure it out. No sooner had I realized this did I feel his thick, solid arm slide with tender grace around my waist and pull me against the firmness of his ribs. He then began moving down the stairwell with such fluidity that, despite the pitch black surrounding us, it felt as if he had built the stairs himself and knew every detail. By the time we reached the next floor down, the door behind us slammed open and snarls echoed off the walls above. Harrison didn’t miss a step, never flinching or hesitating. His pace remained steady with the unnerving focus of a hunter after his prey.

When we landed on the ground floor and found ourselves in the lobby the morning sun streamed so brightly through the glass panes across the reception area that I was momentarily blinded. Harrison seemed unaffected, moving with stealth conviction toward the street as the door we’d come through slammed behind us. Blinking, I realized I remained pinned to him, as he gave me time to adjust my sight but when my feet found their footing he asked, “You got it?”

I detected no sarcasm in his tone, and was reminded again why I gravitated toward him.

“I think so…yes.”

At that point, he let me go and drew back, disappearing from my side. I stumbled to a stop only to find him racing in the direction we’d just come from.

“Harrison!” I screamed, the sound of my voice reverberating off the hard tile paving the lobby. But he didn’t pause for a second and I found my body going numb at the sight of him. Only my mind seemed to function in that moment, flicking from one horrific thought to the next.
The Infected are coming! Harrison is running toward them!

He crossed the floor with a vengeance, veering to the left at the last second and slipping between a column and a statue. In awe, I watched, my jaw dropping and my eyes widening as he positioned his feet on the column and his back against the artwork, that marble sculpture standing twenty feet high. He was strong, I knew this, but what he was about to do seemed improbable. And yet without any sign of uncertainty that his approach might fail, he committed to it like a sniper to a target and started to push. Instantly, his body revealed the strain in his attempt. The muscles in his legs, visible through the tears in his jeans, began to bulge, carving deep shadows against the morning light. His arms swelled as he braced himself against the tops of his massive legs. And his neck grew into an unbreakable force of tendons and muscle.

The statue teetered to the side and back onto its base, grinding to an unsteady stop.

I stepped closer, even though there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to help.

Catching sight of me, and apparently being reminded that time was running out, Harrison gave one more shove. As his body flexed deeper into the piece of art, a groan began in his belly, rising up like the sound of a distant torrent rapidly approaching. When it exploded from him in a roar, it shook the floor where I stood.

The entire sculpture tipped gradually, as if it wanted to linger there to taunt us. But when it finally hit the floor, it toppled with magnificent force. The windows behind me exploded with an ear-shattering blast, sending shards into the street, and the tile at the point of impact sank like a meteor had struck it, spraying thousands of pieces outward across the lobby, leaving only a dent of rubble below it. But it did its job. The door was blocked.

“Are you hurt?”

Harrison—I registered—was suddenly beside me.

“Kennedy, are you hurt?”

His hand, so warm and comforting, landed on my shoulder. I leaned into it.

“Did you…Did you see that?” I whispered, gawking at him. “
You
did that…”

Exhilaration coursed through me then, although I couldn’t tell if it was from watching Harrison work or from the blast that followed.

His hand on my shoulder shifted to pluck a piece of ceramic from my hair, stirring me more.

“You’re amazing,” I muttered.

His warm, immodest eyes settled on me, absorbing me, ignoring my admiration. Inside, they moved me with a different kind of tension now. The Infected weren’t entirely forgotten right about then, they simply faded, leaving us bound together by relief at the sight of each other.

Then someone cleared their throat from behind me and broke our concentration.

“So…” The voice brought with it a mixture of emotions: relief, optimism, and annoyance. The last one won when she spoke again. “When this creepy little love fest you’ve got going on here concludes, think we can get back to what’s
really
important? Like the Infected on the other side of that door.”

In a gesture that told me Harrison wanted our moment to last just a little longer, he replied without looking, “Good to see you, Beverly. Glad you guys made it.”

You guys
… His choice of words spurred me into action.

I swung around to find Mei’s slight frame leaning wearily against Doc’s panting, hulking one. He looked monstrous next to her, with a meaty arm wrapped around her body nearly consuming her. Standing beside them was Beverly, her hair whipped into a mess, clothes torn and askew, hunched and frowning. Sensing that her typically faultless appearance was in disarray, she narrowed her eyes at us. “What?”

We ignored her.

I finished my scrutiny of them, noting they were free of bite marks, and, of lesser importance, ceramic dust.

“We heard the statue,” Doc remarked.

“And came back for you,” Mei added.

“We appreciate that,” Harrison said, his tone sincere even though it was clear he was less in need of them then they were of him.

Doc tipped his head at the fallen statue. “Nice job on the barricade.”

“Thanks.”

“But as much as I don’t want to admit it, Beverly’s right.” She scoffed, but Doc paid no attention. “I’m not sure how long it’ll hold.”

Harrison angled his ear at the door and agreed. “Right…we don’t have much time.”

“But the others? Where are they?” I asked. “There was a kid up there…” Already my head was sweeping from side to side for any sign of him.

“Gone,” Doc replied.

“Scattered,” Mei added with a hand on Doc’s shoulder for both comfort and support. It jolted when something, or someone, heavy slammed into the door behind us.

“And they had the right idea,” Beverly muttered.

The three of them turned to face the windows leading to the street but didn’t get any farther. And I didn’t blame them. Walking outside seemed all too much like offering ourselves up as sacrifices for the feast. Yet, as the five of us stood there, we came to the same conclusion at once.

We couldn’t stay here…

The hisses and growls were growing louder, which meant more of the Infected were piling up in the stairwell, which meant their weight against the door would eventually become too much for the hinges, which meant we were still in trouble.

“All right,” I said, stepping up beside them, acting now on instinct as memories of weekends with my dad came back to me. “If we’re going to get to safety, we’ll need to do it quietly, which means no talking.”

“You expect us to cross a city without communicating?” Mei asked, uncertainly.

“We’ll communicate, just not with words,” Harrison said, following my line of thought while proving how well he knew me. “Right, Kennedy?”

“Right,” I said, trying not to show my surprise.

Despite the Infected growing louder, I took time to quickly rehearse silent hand signals with them before giving a final piece of instruction. “Keep your eye on the person in front. He’ll be the first pair of eyes so he tells you what to do and what to expect.”

“And who will that be?” Mei asked.

“Me,” Harrison stated, striding for the exit.

I watched his powerfully curved back, knowing he was taking the lead position to protect the rest of us, as usual, and once again had to shake off the admiration I felt.

“Fine with me,” Beverly said, effortlessly accepting his willingness to surrender himself to the danger.

No, there was no fear of her growing a team mentality any time soon.

I frowned and reminded her while following Harrison out, “No talking.”

She rolled her eyes behind me but didn’t speak, and I felt my mission had been accomplished.

At the door, Harrison paused to hand me the rifle he’d slung over his shoulder while giving me a look that said not to argue with him. I frowned, but took it, knowing there was no use convincing him that the weapon would be more useful in his hands than mine. He seemed firmly set on ignoring how his abilities greatly overpowered mine. So, keeping the muzzle down and at-the-ready, I moved to the steps and into the street.

It was early morning now, a time when the city should have been filled with cars hunting for parking places or people rushing to work clutching their coffee and briefcases. Instead, it was silent, eerily vacant of its inhabitants. The only signs of life came from the pigeons that either perched on the window ledges or picked through the littered debris. The streets now belonged to them.

Vehicles did line the sidewalks, abandoned in the gutters to whatever the drivers had encountered on the day of the outbreak. Their engines had long since run out of gas but some were left with their doors wide open, beckoning us to give the key a try. I intentionally ignored those, not wanting to see if their owners had made it out of the car or not.

It may have been best to try a few ignitions or hunt for their keys, but Harrison reasoned—as I had—that the risk in delaying to test cars was greater than the potential reward. No, we’d be hoofing it out. A nice little stroll through cannibal-ridden streets.

None of us knew what to expect. We’d only barely breached Chicago’s urban center and the outbreak had come too fast for any of us to have seen what was happening inside it. I had never been a big fan of the media but a little information, a breaking news bulletin, would have been nice right about then. Going in blind wasn’t the preferred method, but that’s how we did it.
Hooyah…