Whatever had turned them into those things that roamed the hallways, it hadn’t granted them any more strength than what they already had to begin with. They seemed to rely almost purely on an unrelenting primal drive and sheer numbers. To get through the door, they would have to break it down first. That wasn’t going to be easy, even with the building’s rotted wood.
Will leaned against the wall and waited for an attack that never came. He listened, but couldn’t hear the footsteps from earlier. He glanced across at Danny, who caught his gaze and shook his head.
“Why’d they stop?” Danny whispered. “They had us on the run, right? That wasn’t just my imagination? So why’d they stop now?”
Will didn’t have any answers. The same thoughts were running through his head. “I gotta check on something,” he said instead.
He slung his M4A1 and dug a small LED flashlight from one of his pouches. He flicked it on and walked across the room to the window. It was draped with an ugly blanket, and over it were slabs of wood that covered the entire rectangular frame, giving it the look of a framed wooden box.
He grabbed one of the boards by the ends and tried to pry it free. It budged, but not by much.
“That’s God telling you it’s time to work out more, spud,” Danny said from across the room.
Had there been boards on the windows of the other apartments? He chastised himself for not paying more attention to his surroundings. Of course, being hunted by creatures that couldn’t possibly exist, that couldn’t be killed even when you shot them in the head, had not been covered during his months in Ranger school.
Now, without the sounds of gunfire and the chaos of combat to overwhelm his senses, he collected the evidence before him.
What did he know so far? Not much. But there were some things that couldn’t be denied.
Nests on the top floor and on the bottom floor. A kill zone. They created a goddamn kill zone and we walked right into it.
But it was the covered windows that nagged at him.
Why?
Why go to the trouble? The building was already condemned. The only reason they had been called in was because drug activity was suspected. So why go to the effort of covering up all the windows so thoroughly?
He could still feel it, gnawing at the back of his brain. The very distinct feeling that this wasn’t something random they had stumbled into. This was planned.
So what the hell was “this”?
Good question…
He glanced back at Danny. “Anything?”
Danny hadn’t moved from his spot, his right ear still pressed against the wall. “It’s deader than a bad stand-up comedy routine out there.”
“Thoughts and observations? Guesstimates?”
“Maybe they found something better to do with their time? Chasing after a bunch of guys with shotguns is not my idea of fun.” He shrugged. “Or maybe they just gave up.”
“Captain Optimism,” Will smiled back at him.
“You know me, glass half full kind of guy.”
“Come here and see if you can open this window.”
“What’re you, my dad? Do this, go there, come here.”
“Get your ass over here, Mister Glass Half Full Dumbass.”
“Definitely sounded like my dad right there,” Danny said as he walked grudgingly over.
Will swept the flashlight across the apartment, over dirty walls, stained carpeting, and cracked ceiling. Apartment 1009 was like all the other apartments they had passed on their way down from the twentieth floor, evidence of its former occupants scattered haphazardly about. Discarded personal items hung on walls, sat on dust-covered tables, or were forgotten inside loose drawers. Furniture that was either too big to move or too damaged to bother took up space in living rooms.
Will’s flashlight located Peeks on the floor. His back was against the far wall, and he looked even worse than he did a few minutes ago, if that was possible.
“Hang in there, Peeks,” Will said.
Peeks blinked under the harsh LED light and nodded back. Or tried to, anyway.
Behind him, Danny had pried one of the boards free with a loud grunt. He dropped it to the floor. “One down, a dozen nasty ass more to go.”
“Keep at it, buckaroo,” Will said.
“I’ll buckaroo your ass.”
Will grinned, then headed into the kitchen.
He searched the drawers and counters and found two bags of old Ramen noodles. Both had been feasted on by rats, their contents digested over the years then spat back out as droppings spaced generously along the counters and floor. He stepped around them and located a can of tuna without a label underneath the sink, but left it where he found it. He was always hungry after a firefight, but he wasn’t that hungry.
He opened the pantry closet and skimmed over empty grocery bags on the shelves. Dust erupted from one when he touched it, and he avoided the rest. The flashlight’s bright LED ran over the tip of a shoebox on the very top shelf. It was near the back as if someone had quickly tried to stash it but didn’t push it back far enough. Will reached for it, his curiosity further raised when he felt how heavy the box was. It was much heavier than a shoebox should be.
“Find some food?” Danny asked from the living room.
“You don’t want to eat what I found.”
“Any SPAM? I like SPAM. They say SPAM lasts for decades.” He grunted, pulled another board free, and dropped it to the floor. “Two down, and still dozens more to go.”
“Keep at it, buckaroo.”
“Shaddup.”
Will put the shoebox on the counter, crushing rat droppings underneath, and flipped open the lid. The flashlight revealed old and yellowed crumpled-up newspapers. He knew that wasn’t all there was. The box was too heavy. He picked up one of the two bundles and was rewarded with the weight of an object wrapped in the center.
He unwrapped the newspaper and stared down at a cross. It was big and gaudy, and about a foot long, which was exactly the same length as the combat knife strapped to his hip. But the cross was thicker and heavier, the weight distributed evenly from top to bottom. The sides of the cross reflected back a dull silver surface under the LED light. It was the only thing in the entire place not covered in dust or dirt or grime.
Sterling silver.
Will wondered if the person who had stashed it had simply forgotten about it. What was that saying? “Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans.”
The rest of the cross was bronze, and the combination of the two metals — the bronze inside, making up the bulk of the cross, and the silver at the edges — made for a unique look. Will changed his mind, and decided it was less gaudy and actually tasteful, maybe even a little bit elegant.
He ran his finger along the silver edge, reaching the bottom where the cross formed a half-star and ended in a sharp point. He jerked his hand back when the point broke through skin and a single drop of blood fell to the counter.
He sucked on the finger and took out the other newspaper bundle.
There was an identical cross inside.
A matching pair.
Will left the kitchen with the crosses in one hand. He shone the flashlight on Peeks’s face as he passed by. Peeks didn’t bother to blink against the brightness this time. He looked like a drowning man trying not to go to sleep.
“Stay with us, Peeks,” Will said.
Peeks gave him a quarter-nod, but didn’t open his eyes.
“Peeks doesn’t look so good,” Will said to Danny. He kept his voice low, though he probably didn’t have to. He wasn’t sure Peeks could even hear anymore.
Danny looked over at the still figure sitting on the floor in the darkness. “Week-old tuna doesn’t look so good. He’s past that point.”