Wren awoke from a nightmare, jerking awake with a gasp, her body sweating and covered in goosebumps. Her heart was racing. She was lying on her back staring up at the dark ceiling above them. Beside her, Elijah was sleeping soundly with his back to her. She waited until her heart rate slowed back to a reasonable speed before slipping away.
The second she stood, Wren felt a chill. She slipped her jeans over the black shorts since the material was so thin. Then she pulled on her leather jacket. Her pistol was still resting beside the mats.
Quietly uncapping one of the sports drinks, she took a sip, even though she felt the urge to use the restroom. Stupid slushie. She shouldn’t have drunk so much. However, she also felt parched, strangely enough. Sleeping next to Elijah was like lying next to a space heater. Plus, her nightmare had left her thirsty.
A siren somewhere outside drew her attention, and she crossed the room to the windows to peer through the blinds just in time to see two police vehicles racing down the street. Dawn was breaking, which was strange because she thought it was still the middle of the night. She always woke from nightmares in a hazy state of reality.
Wren stretched her back and then touched her toes trying to work out the kinks from sleeping on a mat with some weird sort of squishy thing for a pillow. She had to pee. It was no use trying to distract herself. The only problem was that Elijah was sleeping, and she didn’t want to wake him to escort her to the bathroom.
“Baby,” she chastised herself in a whisper.
Wren pulled on her boots, laced them, strapped on her pistol, held her breath when Elijah stirred, then quietly sneaked out of the room without letting the door clank noisily closed behind her. The building was still very dark, shadows everywhere, but she kept going. Her needs were outweighing her concerns at the moment. Besides, it was just her cowardice getting the best of her, and she still had the light of her phone to see.
The gray, gloomy light of pre-dawn filtered through the three-story windows to her right in the aquatics center as she fast-walked to the bathroom. Once inside, she wasn’t able to lock the door behind her, which made her edgy. Wren flashed her light under each stall, then felt silly for doing so. She made quick work of her business and flushed. It sounded so loud as the water power flushed down the bowl. She rolled her eyes with irritation. After her hands were washed and dried, she paused as a shiver of apprehension ran up her spine. It wasn’t unsubstantiated this time. She heard a noise.
Wren dropped her paper towel on the floor and put her hand on the pistol instead. She didn’t move an inch, didn’t even breathe. She’d heard something. She was sure of it. The automatic water dispensing system with the red LED light sensors under the tap finally shut off. Her hackles were up. It was probably just Elijah, her brain tried to reason. He probably woke and found her gone.
She stepped silently to the door. The second her hand made contact with the pull bar she heard something again. She jumped. If it was Elijah, he’d gone down to the first floor. The noise was beneath her feet. Wren paused a few more seconds. It grew quiet.
She couldn’t stay put. The door didn’t lock. If Elijah was still asleep down the hall, she was leaving him to hang out to dry. So, she bucked up and pulled the door open without noise. Not seeing anyone in the hall, Wren stepped out into it and turned off her phone’s flashlight. A ruckus, loud and unconcerned, came from the first floor again. She sprinted. Without making a sound and careful not to let her feet slap on the floor noisily, Wren made it to their room and shut the door quietly behind her, locking it.
“Elijah!” she whispered fiercely.
He didn’t move. Wren rushed over and fell to her knees on the mat beside him. He startled and rolled over onto his back.
“Elijah, wake up! Someone’s in the building,” she blurted in a decibel barely above a whisper.
He sucked in a sharp breath and shot to his feet. He was dressed in a nanosecond and had his shoes on in another two. He pulled on his jacket while she did the same. Then he grabbed the shotgun.
“Did you see?” he asked in a husky whisper.
She shook her head, “They’re downstairs. I heard them. It sounded like…” Wren thought hard to describe it. “I don’t know. Rummaging?”
“Could be looters.”
“Could be crawlers,” she added, shortening the already terrifying name being given to the infected people. He gave her a short nod.
“Let’s get outta here,” he said. “We’re on the same floor as the walking track. We’ll try to sneak over there and use one of the emergency exits.”
“That’s far,” she remarked, remembering it was on the other side of the building.
“I think that’s the closest exit,” he said, his eyes pained.
She swore under her breath but gave him a nod, too. Wren followed as he crossed the room to the door. He held the shotgun out front, not bothering at pretense. She removed her pistol from her holster and held it pointing down at the ground. The weight of it felt good in her hand, solid, like something that would protect her. Elijah’s wide back in front of her face also felt good as she rested her free hand against it so that he would know she was right with him. He also felt solid, strong, like something that would protect her.
“Let’s go,” he whispered over his shoulder.
Elijah pried open the door slowly, causing the faintest of creaking sounds. It unnerved her. She followed him through, and he let her pass before he closed the door softly behind them. Wren was starting to wonder if they shouldn’t have just stayed in there with the door locked. Surely whoever or whatever was in the building wouldn’t have wanted to loot or explore a workout room.
They walked down the hall overlooking the aquatics center. She noted the water in the lap pool was moving. Not like someone was swimming laps, but more like someone had recently fingertip touched the water, causing it to ripple. Wren bit her lip until it hurt in order to stop herself from reacting to the fears welling inside.
Elijah froze in front of her, and she almost bumped into him. Then she realized why he’d stopped so suddenly. She heard it, too, a commotion on the first floor again. Then guttural, slurred words. It wasn’t the conversation of people looting. They weren’t really words at all. It was just like that first time in the pharmacy when she’d frozen at the sound of that woman freaking out. This one wasn’t using words, either. That seemed like a lifetime ago, not mere weeks.
Elijah looked over his shoulder at her and indicated they should move closer to the solid wall beside them and away from the glass partition wall where they could be spotted. She followed as he kept moving. They weren’t even close yet.
He made a left at the end of the hall, and she could see the beginning of the walking track up ahead. They still had quite a long way to go, past other rooms and the stairs leading down to the first floor, but at least she could see their destination as he crept steadily forward. She felt a sigh of relief bubbling inside her.
Then the sigh became an exhalation of surprise. All of a sudden, a man rounded the corner, stopped for a second after spotting them at the same time, and growled. There was blood all over the lower half of his face and streaking down his white t-shirt. His eyes grew wider and wild at the sight of them. He didn’t even pause more than a second before barreling toward them.
She stumbled backward over her own feet and almost fell all the way. Wren watched as Elijah didn’t hesitate. He raised the shotgun against his shoulder and pulled the trigger when the man got within ten yards. The round blasted him in the chest and caused a sudden, blunt stop that sent him flying backward and into the wall beside him. It screamed as it hit the wall with a loud impact. The pale-yellow wall was now covered in blood splatter as his body slid to the floor and slumped over in a heap.
From the first floor, someone let out a primordial cry as if either scared or infuriated. She wasn’t sure which. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, either. Then another scream echoed it from somewhere far behind and below them right before a blast from a gun went off that wasn’t theirs. It had to be from the aquatics center. One of them was, indeed, in there and had probably touched or maybe even drank from that pool. That’s why the water was moving a moment ago.
“Looters and crawlers,” he whispered.
Elijah yanked her arm and tugged her forward from her shocked state of immobility. This was horrifying. It was nothing like running from the Greek mob. Maybe looters had come in, broke in by smashing a door or window and crawlers must’ve pursued.
Another gunshot from somewhere on the first floor sounded off. She was frozen in fear.
“C’mon, Wren!” he urged.
This time, he didn’t creep along in stealth mode. He all out ran, and she kept up pace for pace. They hit the running track, and Elijah sped up even more as she heard footsteps pounding the stairs behind them. It spurred her into running faster.
The sign she passed let her know that three laps were a half-mile. She wasn’t concerned about getting in her cardio for the day. She just wanted the hell out of the bloody building.
They were halfway around the track when she spotted the exit sign glowing above the steel door tucked away at the corner they were approaching. Alcoves were designed into the track where pull-up bars, sets of weights and benches were located for those who were into cross-training in the middle of their run. She wasn’t interested in that, either.
As they sprinted past one of those nooks, however, Elijah was hit by someone before either of them could even react. The man charged like a professional football player and knocked Elijah into the metal railing overlooking the basketball and volleyball courts. The shotgun went flying out of his hands and over the railing, hitting the polished hardwood floors of the courts below them with a loud clatter. He almost went over the railing, too, with the big man. He was even taller than Elijah. It was one of those people things. And, like the one he’d just shot, this was not a looter.
Wren screamed and pulled up her pistol, trying to aim it in on the thing. They were wrestling too quickly, spinning around too fast. Then they went flying backward into the alcove.
“Stay back, Wren!” Elijah called out to her as he landed in a heap on the rubbery black floor of the workout area.
Somewhere in the building, another one of those things screamed with rage. She didn’t know if it was because of the commotion they were causing or if they just did that from time to time. Either way, it sent new tremors coursing through her.
The crawler rolled Elijah, pinning him beneath him. Wren approached cautiously and attempted to aim at the man. Then they shifted too quickly, and Elijah was almost on top of it again. That didn’t last long, though. It did some sort of survival mode maneuver and rolled with Elijah twice until he was on the bottom again. Wren still tried to sight in on the thing. It was trying to strangle Elijah now.
Movement in her peripheral vision caused her to jerk to her right in time to see one coming toward her. She squeezed off a round and missed. She aimed more carefully, tried to control her rapid breathing that bordered on hyperventilation, and squeezed again. This round hit, striking the man in the chest. He hit the window beside him so hard it exploded in a million pieces and shards. Then he went through it, falling to the ground two stories below them outside. She spun back to Elijah still wrestling the beast.
He punched it to no avail. It only cried out in anger, made a horrible screeching sound, and applied more pressure to Elijah’s throat. Elijah punched it again. This time, its head twisted sharply to the right facing her. She saw why. Elijah had palmed a five-pound metal weight and was striking it in the side of the head. It still didn’t fall over or release his throat. It cried out like a wounded dog. Then it growled and began choking him almost instantly again. Elijah clubbed it two more times until it released his neck and fell over.
Below them in the courts, Wren could hear the shuffling of feet. She dared to peek and saw a person running away with Elijah’s shotgun. The way the person ran, though, it didn’t seem like a crawler. They ran with intention and coordination. The monsters didn’t seem to keep hold of all their motor skills once the virus took over. They were fast, but there was still something about the way they moved that didn’t seem quite…right.
She looked back to see Elijah getting to his feet. She ran over to help him, putting her hand under his arm.
“Come on, Elijah!” she whispered fervently. “We gotta go.”
“My gun…”
“It’s gone. Someone took it already,” she told him, getting a shocked look. “Let’s go! There are people down there, too.”
He nodded, stumbled once over the discarded weight, and followed after her. A person screamed on the first floor, a normal scream of fear and maybe even pain mixed in.
Before they even made it to the exit door, another one of the crawlers came running around the end of the track right towards them. Wren remembered her training with Jamie. She stopped, planted her feet, drew the pistol up with two hands, and took careful aim. Every shot had to count. She trained the pistol center mass, waited for the thing to get close, and squeezed. It hit her mark perfectly. The person went down and didn’t attempt to get back up.
“Good job,” Elijah praised and pushed the exit door lever.
Then they were out. The recreation center that had been so fun last night had turned into a horror house of terrors and bloodshed.
The sun was just starting to ascend as they went down the emergency staircase to the parking lot below. Elijah kept moving, though. He led them away from the building, dashing across the parking lot to the street and up over a hill. Somewhere nearby, a dog was barking, which made Wren worried for it. If it drew attention to itself, it could alert the crazy ones. She saw what they did to a dog last night. She’d almost thrown up.
“This way,” he said quietly and jogged down a hill toward a neighborhood.
Behind them, something cried out. It was definitely a human voice, the sound from human vocal cords, but not making sounds a human could make. It was much more uninhibited and rageful than a normal person would allow themselves to behave.
“Keep moving,” he ordered and picked up the pace when their feet were back on pavement.
“Elijah!” she cried out and tugged his jacket when she spotted people running to their right.
He grabbed her and ducked behind some bushes. The people ran past them, but she could hear their conversation. They weren’t infected.
“Run faster, goddammit!” a guy was yelling, a teenager by the timbre in his voice.
“I can’t,” someone in their group called as if he were falling behind. “Wait for me, man! They’re gonna get me.”
Elijah popped his head up as the people ran past. “Wr-Wren, let’s go! Now!”
She didn’t even have a chance to stand, Elijah was yanking her by the collar and moving. Once on her feet, she swung in the direction those young men just came from and saw what they meant. There was a group of night crawlers coming after them. The men were running at a fast pace, probably faster than what she could. She knew why, as they joined the hoard running away, the boy in the back, who was, indeed lagging behind said for them to wait up.
Fortunately, Elijah broke away from the group and said, “This way. C’mon. Hurry.”
She kept up, her lungs beginning to burn from not getting in her regular runs for the last week. This was no time to become out of shape.
“Here. Come this way,” he said, darting between two nice homes in a neighborhood. “Jeremy’s is this way. Two more streets. C’mon.”
“But Alex said not to go there,” she reminded him.
“Does it look like we have a choice?”
To accentuate his point, someone behind them, probably that boy screamed in terror. There was shouting next. Gunfire popped off, then more screaming. It gave her a little extra boost in her step as she stayed pace for pace with the football star. They made a left and continued down a street.
“Here, this is his house,” he said and stopped in front of a red brick Colonial two-story with black shutters. Elijah knocked but didn’t get an answer. The screaming grew quieter, and for some reason, it must’ve spurred him on to try the door, which was unlocked.
“Elijah?” someone behind them called out.
They both turned in unison to see Jeremy coming up the same sidewalk as them carrying a cardboard box. He sent out a wave and sped up. Behind him, Wren spotted one of those night crawlers about thirty yards away.
“Jeremy, run!” she screamed.
It caused him to spin, take a fast look, and sprint toward them with his box. Items in it were bouncing into the air but didn’t fall all the way out. They ushered him into his own house and quickly slammed the door and locked it. A few seconds later, the former person banged against it. Elijah was right. They were very fast. She was going to have to get faster if she was to stay alive.