The scratching got louder. The door shook in its frame.
The tiny room lit up like day. Audrey held a bright silver light, it cast her pale and white.
“Look. A light,” the large lights were attached to a camera in bulky underwater housing.
Eighteen air tanks were stored in the wooden bin, and nearly every square inch of the wall was covered in tools or equipment. A clothing rack with soggy wetsuits, a barrel of fins, and a shelf of broken knives. A long, two-inch crescent wrench rested on metal pegs. I picked up an air tank and the wrench.
“We’ll use the tanks,” I said. “They’ll plow through anything.”
“You’ll kill us.”
“So will they.”
The metal bench scraped and screamed as I slid it across the concrete floor. I placed it directly in front of the door and set a cylinder on top.
“Keep the light on the valve.”
Audrey held the light as I raised the wrench over the valve.
She covered her eyes and the light dipped away. I swung the hefty wrench against the stem. The valve flew off, a deafening sibilance filled the room. The bouncing valve skittered across the floor and the tank flew furiously into the door. The door burst open and the tank, spinning deliriously, sent six undead crashing into the pool. The tank tumbled into the water after them, gurgling and whistling.
Quickly, I set up another air tank and struck the valve. It took off and caught the doorframe. The tank spun like a propeller and skipped across the water. I set up cylinder after cylinder. I released ten of the tanks into the dark, moaning pool. I struck the last cylinder. The valve crashed off the wall and landed in my eye. I fell straight down. Blood dripped into my mouth.
I dragged the pack and the rifle behind me, spilling out into the chlorine air. The infected writhed on the floor outside the equipment room. The pool still slapped and splashed. The silver light bounced behind me, and I waited for Audrey to join me. There was darkness in my right eye. It was warm and sticky and it hurt to blink.
With the light, we saw the bodies as they collected in the pool. They sank and waddled eerily at the bottom. Their hair drifted and bobbed. The light caught each individual hair. There must have been thirty or forty and they kept falling in. We left the pool for the pump room.
We closed ourselves in with the pumps. A rat fell from the top of one of the tanks to a lower one and scurried across a pipe. Snow had blown in the pump room, scattered and melted and tracked with blood and sand and dirt. We hurried to the truck, which was as we’d left it. The doors were wide open and snow covered the seats. It chimed with the keys still in the ignition.
I climbed onto the seat and pulled the door closed. Audrey shut her door and we were back in silence. Stillness. I propped my leg on the dash and let my head roll back.
At the end of the world, you press on. You don’t stand still in case the earth collapses beneath you.
I started the truck as Audrey stretched the Glock in front of my face. The cab exploded. Powder burned my eyes and the hot shell spiraled around the cab. Something collapsed in the snow. I rubbed my ears and looked out the shattered window. A guard was less than a foot from my door, hand twitching around the stock of his rifle. His eyeball hung from its socket and dripped like an uncooked egg.
I dropped the truck into gear and turned on the auxiliary lights. We sped across the parking lot and bounced through a ditch. The truck spilled sideways into the road. The cold air bellowed in the window and my ears rang. The sirens continued to wail across campus. I sped half a mile down the road before stopping on the shoulder.
I examined the dark eye in the mirror. There was a deep gash across the whole socket. I pried the lid open. The eye was flooded with blood and looked pretty well gone. I sat back and took deep, angry breaths. I opened the console, the glove box, and the door pockets. Desperately, I emptied them all to the floor.
“Jack, what are you looking for?”
“I smell wintergreen. I know there’s some in here.”
“Gum?”
I pulled down the visor. A can of tobacco fell in my lap. “Not gum.”
I tore open the can and stuffed a large pinch in my lip. “I quit this shit when I was fifteen. I figure it doesn’t matter much now. You want some?”
“I think it’s nasty.”
I stuffed more in my gums. My mouth flooded with spit.
She reached out and took a few threads between her fingers and packed them in her lower gum. I spit out the open window. The tobacco stained the snow brown.
I waited on the side of the road until my gums burned and my head felt light. Then, we headed for the downtown area, a single strip of road that ran half a mile. The area was circled in blue on our map. The Sheriff’s office, police department, and Alfie’s Outdoors were all drawn in with little squares.
Halfway there, Audrey leaned forward and held her head. She swiped her finger swiftly across her gum and pulled out the tobacco.
“It feels like I just smoked ten cigarettes.”
“It’s strong if you never tried it before.”
“Please stop the truck.”
I slowed to a crawl. Before I could stop she opened her door and leaned out, retching a putrid streak of black sludge to the snow. She heaved again. And again. By then, she had nothing left to throw up and dark strings hung from her mouth. She didn’t move for a long time. In the dark, I couldn’t tell if she was still breathing. I kept my hand wrapped around the Glock.
“I don’t think that was good,” she said finally.
We followed the tire tracks downtown. There were bare spots on the road where trucks had been parked. An Igloo cooler was left on the side of the road, a steaming cup of coffee on top of it.
“See if there’s a map for emergency drills. Something like that.”
“I don’t see one.”
“Well, they all went to the same place. They wouldn’t just abandon town. They have a plan for everything.”
“I said there isn’t a goddamn map.”
I stomped the brake pedal and the anti-lock system pulsed in the snow. “Give me the maps.”
Audrey held the maps tightly.
I snatched the bundle from her and pulled out the second map in the stack, Emergency Plan. I’d seen it at least six times already.
“Good, you found it.”
“Do you have a problem?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you have a problem?”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”
I unfolded the emergency map and examined the guard positions. Red dots were positioned all along Main Street, “Roof” was scribbled above the locations. The jail had a large red square drawn around it, ten dots marked for roof patrol. Sanctuary. I folded the map and continued toward Main Street. “I’m asking if you just didn’t see the map or if you didn’t look for it.”
She was silent.
“Why?”
She kicked the floorboard. “Because you’re not puking black shit, Jack. You didn’t get bit and I’m just…counting down.”
“You’re not doing me any favors either way. Just remember that. I’ve been here to help you,” I was angry, but I kept my voice low.
Main Street ran along the river and dropped to just a few feet above water level. A caboose was parked outside an old depot, a broken plastic chair sat by the mailbox. We passed a garage with no sign, new parts still on display in the window. A car was parked out front with the hood up. Before it was quarantined, Marshall was little more than rusted cars and parking lots.
The buildings were all the same. Four or five stories, chipped paint and crumbling mortar. Small eerie houses hidden on the hill. Faded store signs. I passed a small grocery and teashop and took the alley toward Back Street.