Chapter 13 - Separation

At the border of quarantine.

A light misting of rain glides in sideways, accompanied by the rapid flashes of light as the storm grows steadily over the city. An abandoned ramshackle barricade blocks the street ahead, no officer currently stationed to ward people away. Another flash illuminates Andrew and Irene, crouching under the overhanging roofs to one side of the road, scanning the way ahead thoroughly. 

The overcast moonlight barely makes a dent in the choking dark of the street, however the shapes of a few individuals can be seen pressed against the homes. They remain unmoving, despite the rain soaking them through, twitching and shifting uncomfortably with each flash of lightning. A crash of thunder rolls out, and in a burst of movement they all scrabble toward the centre of the street aimlessly. A few moments pass and they slowly return, folding themselves back to the walls and houses.

“Well this could be worse.” Andrew’s timid voice ekes out.

Irene rolls her eyes, stepping out from the cover into the rain. 

“We’ll have to cut through between the houses, the closest alley is only halfway down the street.” She points, the gap between the homes highlighted by the deeper shadow.

“Alright, keep moving.”

The two of them step out into the centre of the cobbled road, the steadily increasing rainfall hiding the people thoroughly. They start moving, one foot in front of the other, heads on a swivel. Only half a minute later and the sky flashes again, the two of them freezing in place and their jaws clenching tightly. Five seconds pass before the air trembles in response to the thunder. As it does, the people begin their rush, one of them running near Irene and Andrew. It looks to be a younger boy, mid-teens at a glance, stick-thin and soaked in the rainwater. He is side-on from the petrified pair, only a few paces from them as he skids on the cobbles. The back of his head turns with a crack toward them, eliciting an immediate retreating step, and his foot slips on the wet cobbles, causing him to fall. The resulting sound of his impact on the stone is drowned out by the rain, but Andrew has to turn his head away as the knees flex inward to try and catch its own weight. He lands on the reversed legs awkwardly, falling limp from the waist down. Barely a second passes before its head snaps up, chin to chest, and begins clawing at the cobbles toward them both.

Her jaw set, Irene pulls at Andrew’s arm and starts toward the alley. The young man crawls awkwardly and slowly, making no noise that can be heard above the storm. The others seem unfazed, returning to the shadows of the buildings, out of sight. Irene kicks away a clawing hand as she passes him by, taking note of the places she last saw people retreating out of view.

“We have got to go faster, this isn’t going to work how we planned.” She whispers behind to Andrew. “If lightning strikes again we may need to run, so be ready.”

“That poor boy…”

“Focus. That could be us if we aren’t careful.”

Andrew drags his gaze from the clawing youth, his hand dipping into a pocket to tightly grip the gem. 

They turn the corner, the narrow alley ahead staunching any light and causing Irene to pull out the small electric lantern. In the darkness, the quiet sound of her cranking the handle joins the everpresent pattering, and a small point of light births from the lantern to carve a line through the tight space between the buildings. The hood is pulled down over it, reducing it to a single beam. Scanning the floor, a few errant puddles catch the light before Irene tilts the beam upward to avoid casting reflections. Luckily, there is not anyone here, and the two of them move further in just as another momentary spark brightens the sky. The thunder crashes only a half-second later, the two of them flinching and hugging the walls. 

The young boy, still pursuing feverishly, turns the corner into the alley behind them, his fingertips slipping against the wet cobbles as he scratches his way forward. On the other end, several others pass by the entrance of the alley, seemingly frenzied by the rumbling of the storm.

“They must be drawn out by the noise, should we try taking cover in a house?” Andrew’s voice raising slightly due to proximity and panic.

“We don’t have another option, we run for the closest one.” She gestures with the lantern toward the opposite side of the street ahead.

They both look back and forth, Irene focussing on the movement of those in front as Andrew takes stock of the approaching boy, his legs still trailing behind him. He’s only a short distance away now, arms growing weaker with the extended effort, reaching out toward them.

“Now.” Irene snuffs the lantern and grips her bag strap in her other hand as she breaks out into a run, Andrew close behind.

At least three of the closer ones notice them break out of the alley immediately, their arms snapping backward as they run in reverse, their clawing hands a hair's breadth from Andrew, causing him to duck as he runs. Another comes sprinting from the shadows of the terraced houses in front, cutting in front of Irene as she swerves to one side, staggering over the cobbles slightly before finding her footing and doubling down on the run. Andrew, failing to notice the sudden change in situation, ends up bowling headfirst into the oncoming hands of the tall, sodden woman. Her fingernails catch and scrape against his neck as he tries to turn at the last moment. The three behind miss Andrew in their rush, impacting the woman instead, dragging her away in a crumpling pile.

Tink.

Something snaps. One of her fingers trails a thin silvery chain behind it as she falls. Andrew, barely registering what happened, keeps running, his eyes locked on Irene as she turns to him.

“No, the door is blocked, keep running!” She shouts over the scrum of movement just behind Andrew, pointing further down the street. 

Not needing any more explanation, Andrew turns and keeps it up, his eyes down on the uneven road to prevent slipping. More of them break out in a rush from the sides, some tripping and getting trampled by others, drawn by the noise. They close in from the flanks, cutting off Andrew’s path as he just begins to slow- 

“KEEP RUNNING! THIS WAY YOU BASTARDS!” Irene’s voice trembles slightly as she screams over the storm. 

Andrew turns for just a moment in his run, seeing Irene duck inside a house, the majority of them tumbling after her in a feverish dash away from him. A light flickers into life from the house she ducked into just as he turns back, continuing down the road.

-

“Heurhk” Andrew heaves, retching at the exertion of the last few minutes. The roar of a torrential downpour rattles the boarded windows of the abandoned home he has taken shelter in. A few more of them pass by outside, the heavy splashing of their footfalls growing closer and then farther away.

Steadying himself through deep breaths, he takes another cursory look around the hall, his lantern dimmed to the minimum. Empty, wooden floors scratched with use spread out before him and into a bare living room, a set of broken stairs ascending just to his right. The front door is wedged shut, a small side table jammed into the gap under the handle. He stops, leaning against the wall and reaching into his damp pocket to retrieve a scrap of paper that has just begun to soak up moisture around the edges. He unfurls it onto the floor, setting his lantern down over it, bringing it into detail as a rudimentary map. 

He begins muttering quietly under his breath, pulling his arms together as he shivers from the cold. 

“We cut through this alley, I turned off here, so I should be roughly in this patch of houses somewhere. I just need a landmark.”

He leans back, his eyes brought up to a paneless window, peeking through the planks boarded across the empty space. The street flashes white for barely a second, revealing identical terraced housing, no landmark of any kind. He sighs, his normally curly hair laying flat against his head as he begins to turn, before doing a double take.

A small fiery light, different to that of his lantern, cuts through shades of darkness in the street, flickering for a moment before vanishing. It’s immediately replaced by another only a short distance from the first, and then another as it begins moving like a wave through the buildings on the opposite side of the road. Gone as quick as it appeared, the streak of light fades. 

“What?” Andrew cranes his neck to try and see if it continues down the way, but no luck, it seemed to sweep through a few buildings and then vanish.

He turns back to the map, marking his best guess at his current location and tucking it back away. He scratches at his bare neck where the woman’s fingernails had scraped away some of his skin, wincing slightly. Crouching low, he hooks his fingers beneath the side table and shifts it back away from the door.

“You’d best be alright, Irene.”

The door handle turns with the slightest creak, just as he notices his own shadow on the cracked wood. He tilts his head, confusion plain on his expression as he turns back to the empty house. Just out of sight, round the corner at the back of the hall, a sourceless, candle-like flickering is casting shadows along the walls.

Fingers flexing and relaxing anxiously, Andrew picks up the lantern and turns a small dial until it clicks. The yellow-white beam quickly fades, leaving only the unknown glow in the house. The house shudders from a crash of thunder, and Andrew flinches, his free hand jumping to the knife tucked into his belt. The light at the end of the hall flickers violently, shifting enough to make the shadows dance. He steps forward, curiosity flitting across his face just as the shadow of someone is cast on the wall, crawling backward through the light before it’s gone again. A creak, barely audible over the rain, carries down the hall, followed by mistimed impacts of someone walking down stairs. The frantic movement of the light halts, pausing for a moment before growing dimmer, dimmer again and then darkness fills the house.

Placing a hand on the wall and leaning to see more, Andrew approaches the corner, poised to run. There is no visibility this far from the door, causing him to relight the small lantern, pointing it low and turning with it. With a sharp intake of breath and holding it, he brings the light up slowly. Revealing two darkened open doorways to both the left and right, and a dead end immediately ahead. The beam catches several broken pieces of glass that are scattered in front of the right doorway, glittering in the lanterns light. 

Andrew scratches at his neck nervously.