“Did you hear me?” the man yelled through the door.
Noah didn’t answer. Instead, he let the words sink in, certain the man was lying to him. Even if he gave himself up, there was no way this man would let Caddy live.
Things had gone too far.
The world had succumbed to lawlessness and disorder. There were no more rules, no more accountability. Once Noah was dead, these men would do what they wanted, regardless of the promises they’d made.
He was uncertain of most things, but Noah was sure of this.
He pictured the men’s faces as they’d beaten him down, the bob of Theresa’s head as she’d fallen forward in the car. In all likelihood, the man was standing clear of the door, out of harm’s way. But Noah would test that theory.
He gritted his teeth and fired off a round.
The bullet slammed into the door, cracking the wood. He heard the rustle of movement, but heard no indication that he’d hit the man on the other side. He adjusted his aim.
Giving up wasn’t an option.
He just hoped he could ward them off long enough to keep his companion safe.
A gunshot exploded from the hallway, impacting the other side of the bed. Noah ducked down, grateful the bullet had missed. He’d keep them at bay as long as he could.
He glanced behind him at the window. The shade was drawn, but he could see moonlight creeping around the edges. For a split second he pictured himself jumping through it. But he was on the second floor. The fall was sure to injure him, and besides, he couldn’t strand Caddy.
He couldn’t leave her here. Not with these men.
He crept to the edge of the bed and peered around. To his surprise, the door had creaked open, allowing a partial view of the hallway. The last bullet must’ve knocked it loose. There was no one in sight. He steadied his rifle and aimed it around the side of the mattress just as something struck him in the head.
Noah’s face bounced off the wood floor. He was immediately hit with a wave of dizziness, and he lost his grip on the rifle.
“You mother fucker!” a voice yelled.
He struggled to see in the darkness. A man was standing over him, pinning him down with his boot. Deafened by the gunfire, Noah must not have heard him enter.
The man had gotten the jump on him, and now he was going to pay the price.
The man brought his rifle down on Noah’s forehead. Noah was immediately overwhelmed with pain. His vision blurred; he struggled to maintain consciousness.
He’d failed himself. He’d failed Caddy.
Hands dragged him across the room. He tried to struggle, tried to fight back, but his fingers clawed at the air, useless and without direction. Blood dripped from his forehead into his eyes, dulling his senses even further.
The man pulled him toward the doorway. Noah’s eyes fluttered. In the hallway, he could make out a dozen shapes, shadowy figures trudging toward him. There were more of the men than he’d thought. Even if he’d managed to outlast his attacker, the man had a small army behind him. There was no way he could’ve won.
The thought brought Noah little relief.
His last conscious thought was of Caddy.
I’m sorry I failed you…
When Noah awoke, gunfire was all around him. He was lying on the floor of the bedroom, and his head was throbbing. He had no idea how long he’d been out. He tried to crawl, but his strength was sapped.
The man who’d hit him was firing at something in the hallway. He’d dropped the flashlight he’d been holding, and it turned on and rolled back and forth on the floor, illuminating bits and pieces of the room.
What was happening? Who was he shooting?
It took him a second to recognize the shapes in front of him. What he’d thought was a small army of men was actually a cluster of creatures. He was able to decipher it now, though he was still disoriented.
The house had been flooded with the infected.
They must’ve heard the gunshots and been drawn from the surrounding area. When they’d entered the house, the men must’ve left something open. A window. A door. Whatever it was didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that there was no longer one threat, but two.
Noah had to get to safety.
He pulled himself along with his elbows, ignoring the pain in his skull. He needed to get underneath the bed. He could see his attacker in his peripheral vision, but the man was preoccupied. It looked like he’d pulled a knife and was using it to stab the things in front of him. Noah slid along the floor, his T-shirt bunching up against him, until he’d reached the bedframe.
The man cried out behind him. For a second Noah thought he’d been spotted. It took him a second to realize the man was screaming in pain. Noah kept his eyes in front of him, kept crawling. Soon he was sliding underneath the bed frame, his skin chafed from the effort. He pivoted with his hands until he was facing the doorway.
The house was a chorus of noise. Groaning. Crashes. The sickening sound of metal against flesh. And through it all, the infernal ringing in his ears.
Noah heard the man grunt. Had he been hurt? Bitten? The bed skirt was blocking his vision, and he knew better than to peer out. If he looked, he’d expose his position. He couldn’t afford the risk.
He wiped the blood from his eyes, smearing it across his forehead. His head was wet with sweat; he could smell the scent of his own blood in the air. The odor hit him with a new fear—even if his attacker were to be overtaken, the creatures would smell him.
Where was Caddy? He clenched his hands, feeling powerless. More than anything, he wanted to help her, but he couldn’t reveal himself, not without condemning himself to death.
The bed had become his shield, a temporary respite from the chaos around him. Sooner or later he’d be discovered, but for now all he could was wait and pray.
For both himself and Caddy.