CONTENT WARNING: This chapter has graphic scenes of gore and violence (including minors). If you do not wish to read, a small recap will be provided at the opening of the next chapter.
The rain had nearly trickled to a stop as Tish slipped an arm underneath Peter's. He'd been able to half jog for the last while but his breath was laboured and he needed more help. Help Viola couldn’t give.
Tish was happy enough that the kid’s mother had supported him this far and thoroughly relieved he showed no symptoms. But there was time for things to take a turn for the worse. The sooner they got to shelter the better.
“You take the gun.” Tish pressed the weapon into Chandra’s hands who accepted it gravely. This wasn’t the time to get petty. They should have relied on each other far sooner. Maybe so many wouldn’t have died if we had.
What happened to Laurence was hard to watch, harder to put down, but when she tried to muster up tears for him none came. In her gut, a cold relief washed over her guilt in the absence of heavy rain.
For another ten minutes, at least, they hurried. Peter, although wiry, kept the pace better than she expected. It was Viola who called for a break.
“I just need a minute,” she coughed. No one argued and once they stopped Tish crouched over the bag.
“Don't have much left now and we really should push on.” Making note of where she was Tish closed her eyes to remember. Left, right. Cross through dollar store mini-mall, down the road. Always approach from the... was it north? It had been months since they were given the instructions and her memory was failing her. Shannon had been the one who knew the way through the city best.
“Can you tell us what this place is like?” Chandra whispered by the entrance of an old bank. It wasn't glass which gave them cover and protection but since they hit the city there hadn't been a sight or sound of wendigos. When This looked to the others their eyes searched hers for with hope.
You're looking in the wrong place.
“Not much to say. I wasn't there for long before heading out.” She debated if honesty was the best route and upon another glance inspection, it wasn't. “There’s a few kids but mostly adults around your age.” She motioned to Chandra. “There’s food. Beds. Tall walls.”
“How many people?” Nyssa asked, her voice so soft and tiny.
“There was maybe fifty when we left but there could be more.” Or less.
“Fifty?” Viola repeated, still breathy. “Isn't that dangerous?”
Tish shrugged. “Safer than being out here on your own.” But she wasn’t entirely sure if she believed it.
Tish stood and motioned for them to follow, offering a hand to Peter who took it eagerly. His mother tried to take him on again but Tish shook her head.
“I've got it.”
Viola backed away and let Tish lead the small pack.
Silence fell over them while they hobble-jogged and Tish guided them as best she could. One foot in front of the other, she could only focus on the next few steps. But they’d gone a different way when leaving the city.
Yonge Street. She reached the intersection and closed her eyes. Go south to the dollar store mini-mall. The intersection was void of any living thing so she took the chance to slow their pace.
Remember, they can come from anywhere.
Before they left, their little group of hunters were treated to a crash course on wendigos. How to kill them. Where they were safe. Best routes to take. Which ones to avoid. Survivors shared their stories but most of the refugees were locals and had very little to offer. “I stayed in my apartment until I heard the radio signal. Only then did I leave...” was often the way of it.
Don't trust that silence means nothings there.
Stopping by the mini-mall doors, she slipped out from under Peter’s arm and peered inside. The glass doors, that had been boarded up years ago, opened silently. Inside the space was dry and dust in the air tickled her nose. She passed the broken down ATM's and moved towards the dollar store. Raided months before, all the useful supplies and tin food was gone but the faint smell of decaying garbage lingered.
She walked down the hall, all the way to the side exit on to Charles Street. No sounds. No fresh decaying flesh. It felt safe enough that she lightly jogged back and let the others in.
They too travelled cautiously. When infection broke out people hid anywhere with supplies and a roof when their homes proved unsafe. But glass windows and all the doors were too much. Malls, no matter how small, weren’t safe. Despite what promises Hollywood made.
They passed through quickly and hurried to the next intersection. Across the street, the rubble of an apartment building provided a thick and tall barrier. Blasted before she arrived at the college, stories about how it fell circulated and she remembered them well.
“It was September last year. We finally had a good group in charge and enough food for winter. You’d think that’s a good thing, right? Not around here. A few people started to feel safe. Got all restless, so they went out lookin’ for others.
“We tried to stop them but some people just don’t listen to reason. I tell you this, and remember it kid: the people in charge now are not the ones who risked their lives to save those who were trapped.
“The bleeding hearts came back with wendigos biting at their heels. This lot, the goddamn council, figured as much and was ready for it. You'd be surprised what a bunch of textbooks can teach a mess of scared people. Explosives, for instance. They’re not too hard to make if you’ve got the stuff and aren’t hounded by some fucked up government.
“That building wasn't brought down during the fall. It was that night when the brave came back. We didn't know kid, we didn't know what they planned, but when they brought the horde back it was decided. They let the building fall. They let it fall on them all.”
Twenty-five floors of concrete and glass.
“We didn't know it was so bad.” Chandra and the others stopped to look at the building but Tish didn’t want to linger long. The shards that littered the pavement crunched with every step.
Continuing on to the next street south they turned onto St. Mary. It was a dead-end that led to the long brick wall of the Victoria College dormitories. All the windows were tiny and barred now, if not boarded up, and the choke point lay ahead. It funnelled anything down this one street to a tall reinforced archway and gate that no one could break, at least no wendigo.
“It looks safe,” Viola said hopefully.
A sick turn of her gut made Tish hold Peter a little tighter.
This has got to work.
“No sudden movements. Keep slow and steady,” she whispered.
The college to the south was being used as a garden before but had been abandoned and looked reinforced. Atop the roof of the old dormitories stood several men and immediately Tish raised her arms. The others followed her lead.
A small door opened, hidden behind stacked dumpsters, and a man with a rifle appeared. The rifle was new.
“Identify yourself.” He spoke soft enough not to let his voice carry.
Tish didn’t recognize him at first but she knew the drill
“Tish, I left with Laurence and-”
“Where is he?”
“Dead. Infected on the return.”
“And the bitch Cazalla?”
Monte. Tish took a step forward with and her lip twitched into a frown. It had to be fuckin’ Monte.
“I can give you all the goddamn details inside. But obviously she's not here. So cut the shit, Monte.”
He looked her over with a lingering gaze before motioning back at the wall. Two more armed shapes came out and walked towards them.
Eric, towering with his unmistakably broad shoulders, stood a step behind Helena, his finger on the trigger. Despite it, he looked calm, a hell of a lot calmer than Monte. He took the shotgun from Chandra without a fight.
Short, blonde, severe, and never-smiling Helena gave Tish a once over, right there in the street. She pulled at clothing, lifted to see skin and ran her hands over what wasn’t exposed.
“We couldn’t do this on the other side?” Tish asked but the doctor didn’t respond.
“Clean,” Helena said after and turned her attention to the others.
“Any injuries?” Helena’s eyes flashed to Peter’s wrapped leg and exchanged quick looks with Eric and Monte.
“I know that not all bites lead to infections,” Tish interrupted. “He got hurt a few hours back but isn't showing any symptoms. Shoot him with some antibiotics and he should be good, right?”
Helena unwrapped Peter’s leg. She turned it carefully and her shoulders sagged. Viola looked hopefully at the doctor.
Helena stepped back from Peter and the others. “Women are clean,” she called back but her voice was cold. Helena’s not seriously saying-
Monte raised the rifle level with Peter’s chest.
“The women can head in but the boy isn’t coming any closer,” Monte said.
“What the shit, Monte? He’s not infected!”
Eric sighed and raised his rifle. “We don’t know that, Tish. Step aside.”
“He could be fine! We’ve done this before, I used to man the wall, for fuck sake! We take him in and if he doesn't change, he's clean. We've done this before.”
“Rules have changed, Tish. No risks.” Monte grinned behind the barrel.
Tish shook her head. “This is bullshit.”
“I'm not leaving my baby,” Viola cried softly.
“I’m sorry, Tish, but you three need to step away from him.” Helena waved at Tish but she didn’t move.
This isn’t happening. This isn’t what we do. He’s not infected…
“I am not leaving my baby!” Viola words echoed out into the street. The cry made them all nervous and from above the walls of the dorms, half a dozen rifles levelled their barrels on Viola.
Peter looked between his mother and Tish. “Mom?”
“Viola, please calm down,” Chandra pleaded.
“Christ-sake Monte, lower your gun,” Helena snapped. Her hand tapped on the medkit in her hand.
“Please,” Tish begged. “You know he could be okay. Just look at him, Helena.”
Monte spat. “You know we aren’t taking him in, Doc.”
“Everyone just calm down,” Helena snapped.
“You are not leaving my boy out here to die!”
It all happened in slow motion. Viola let go of Peter and lunged. Why would she… Tish froze and could only watch.
Viola had lagged the whole trip, lingered behind them, dragged her heels but she lunged with such speed. Her hand gripped the gun at Helena’s waist and pulled it free.
The first shot fired. It blew out the back of Viola's head onto the pavement. A clean shot fired from atop the dormitories.
The second hammered into Peter's chest knocking him to the ground. Chandra eyed the shotgun she’d been robbed of but Monte shoved the butt of his rifle against her temple. She dropped to the ground like a doll.
Monte then pointed the rifle at Nyssa. Tiny, quiet, Nyssa. The child froze and stared at the barrel.
“They're clean!” Helena screamed. Only then did Monte lower it.
Helena gathered her gun from Viola’s body and cursed under her breath.
Tish stood frozen as Helena walked to Peter, who lay shuddering and spluttering blood from his lips.
“I’m sorry,” Helena whispered as she approached Peter. The hammer of the handgun pounded and littered the pavement with flesh.
“Well that's taken care of.” Monte smirked at Tish.
This isn’t what we do.
A runner approached Monte as Eric checked over Helena.
He wasn’t infected.
“Send in a clean crew to move the bodies down the road and mop up the blood,” Eric told the runner.
“He was a child,” Chandra wept, Nyssa's tears finally coming as she clung to Chandra for protection. “He wasn't even turning and Viola-”
“Hey, she attacked us.” Monte shrugged. “We keep everyone safe here. Even from themselves.” Reaching out, he touched Chandra's shoulder and her whole body flinched away. “Welcome to salvation.”
He. Wasn’t. Infected.
Monte turned to leave and Tish exhaled.
She spun with every ounce of strength she had. The crack of her knuckles shuddered with pain through her hand. Closed fist was no way to fight, but as blood spilled from Monte’s lips she felt better.
His stout frame tilted and she clamoured on top of him. The gun was useless now. Her fists hammered down as hard as she could muster but not a sound left her lips.
He was just a kid.
He would have made it.
He would have fucking made it!
Her eyes felt hot and her vision blurred. She wailed into his face and her fists were wet with blood.
It was maybe a few moments before the first blow to the back of her head. Black swarmed her vision but she hammered down. Over and over.
The second blow pushed her off his body and onto the pavement. To the side, Chandra and Nyssa huddled together, a blur of tears and sobs as Monte clamoured to his feet.
“Fucking bitch!” Monte snarled, spitting blood to the ground. He reached for his gun.
Do it. Tish glared at his shape as it started to blur. Do it. Fucking do it, you coward!
Helena’s hand gripped the gun and ripped it from Monte. “No more, Monte. Not today.”
Author Note: Thanks for your patience. I seem to have moved passed the hurdles keeping me from posting more regularly and I should be back to 1 post a week schedule!
