In your hands: assault rifle, gas-operated, fully loaded. Across your torso: three mags, .30 Short. Around your neck: your chierk. In the pockets of your coat: tactical flashlight, hunting knife, pilfered spare key to the arms storage.
Your colleagues have much the same. Juno's pistol is rusting, but she insists on keeping it; Naomi is visibly unarmed, though you're certain she's keeping something under the wraps of her stained scrubs, insistent as she is on reminding you of 'just how dangerous it would be if there was a zombie in our midst.' Devin (yes, Devin—Naomi convinced you to bring him with you, despite your protests, and Strangeness-in-the-Air, too) is the most prepared of them, second only to you.
Imperfect comrades, but you don't have time to dwell on that.
The sweep of the substation is quick and, as far as you can tell, useless, beyond the main door being unlocked (Naomi babbles that it must mean that Lottie has escaped. Juno reminds her that the infirmary itself has its own lock). You hear bumping and crashing from one corner of the structure, but it's just The Relic Seeker; you leave her to her tinkering. Every clear corridor and unbroken window should reassure you, but despite every effort, you can't avoid the growing feeling that you're trapping a fish in a very small, very fatal barrel. And isn't that the point?
You're right, of course. Creaking and quiet tears writhe their way through the infirmary door. You move to open the door, but Strangeness catches your eye. She gives you a look—the kind of look you shouldn't find so convincing. It says, 'give her one last chance.' It says, 'aren't we monsters, too?'
You hiss through your teeth, but nod. Naomi mutters, 'Remember: she's dangerous. Don't take any chances, Strangeness.' She hands her the gun she's been keeping tucked under her scrubs to the Eirsasi, who takes it, tucking it into a deep pocket of her coat from where you know she won't retrieve it.
You strain to listen through the door. The words are unclear, muffled, but you know the sound of fear. Minutes pass like seconds, or maybe like hours. The four of you that remain outside stand in a diamond, with you closest to the door and Naomi, increasingly fidgeting and breathing in without speaking, furthest from it. Devin clicks the safety on his gun on and off. You resist the urge to tell him to stop. Juno holds her gun as though it's a precious gem. You hold yours like what it is: the only answer.
And the question is posed soon enough. You hear no gunshot, no fight, but the door creaks open. You steady yourself on your feet, leaning on your back leg and shifting your rifle onto your shoulder, preparing for the inevitable deafening bang. You feel something weighing down the back of it, and turn to see Naomi reaching out for the butt of the gun as if to push it down. You yank it away from her, refusing to acknowledge the fear in her eyes.
The line of door against wall opens out into a gash, a black hole, a canyon of darkness, and you strain to see the eyes that will light it up.
They're not Strangeness'. They're bloodshot and hungry and twitching, and they're moving towards you far too quickly. Far too quickly.
The weight of the gun in your hands is potential and an answer, and nothing else worth thinking about it.
It is so easy to end a life.
You beat Lottie to it.
In the seconds before the lights go out
you see a chunk of something not quite red
and not quite vital
but definitely Lottie's
land on Strangeness' face
brain boat in a sea of red
Strangeness who is alive and well
looks at you with something like horror
and then
from nowhere
the lights go dark.
{[]}