Had they seen where Cruz went? Did they know exactly where to find him? Panic took hold, and I worked fast, striking the closest infected and driving my knife through the temple of the next. The third grabbed hold of my t-shirt, and I swiped at its head, missing on the first attempt. With a grunt and a second plunge of my blade, I connected with its eye and felt its weight drop to my feet.
No time to waste. My heart pounded and urgency ripped through me. I couldn't hear any voices coming from outside. Only the sound of thudding footsteps closing in on mefast. I scanned the navy lobby with its gold fixtures and fittings and saw another group of the dead coming for me from a function room off the reception area. The men would find me in seconds if I hid in here, especially if I needed to get past the infected to gain entry.
I ran to the fire stairs on the far side of the room, pushing through the heavy door and sprinting up one flight of steps. I paused on the concrete landing, my mind racing as I sifted through my options. Would they expect me to keep going and make as much progress as possible, urged on by the idea that higher levels meant I’d be safer?
I yanked open the door to the first floor and sprinted down a hallway with thick, burgundy carpet, thankful to find it clear of the infected—then a thought hit me full force while I was running. Hotel doors automatically locked when they were closed. They ran on batteries, but I'd still need a keycard to access any of the rooms. Unless I could find one that had been propped open for whatever reason, I'd just run straight into a dead end.
Literally.
I couldn’t retrace my steps. The men would be in the lobby by now. There was no time for backtracking.
I stopped for a second to catch my breath and think.
Frustration and panic had me wanting to bang my head against the wall, to scream and swear andkicksomething. What a stupid,stupididea to choose a hotel over an office building or a shopping mall. I’d just become one of those clueless characters in horror movies who had viewers yelling at the fucking screen.
Now what? I couldn’t hear a thing from below, but they’d seen me come in here. I needed to get moving if I wanted to keep my freedom.
With my heart in my throat, I took off again, heading for the glow of natural light at the end of the hall. I kept watch for open doors along the way—a supplies closet or a maintenance cupboard. No options jumped out at me, and I didn’t have time to stop and rattle doorknobs in the hope one of them turned.
When I reached the end, I discovered the light was coming from a floor-to-ceiling window in a small lounge area. My pulse thudded so frantically I could feel the beats in my ears, and I weaved between two velvet couches and a coffee table. Being on the first floor, there was a slim chance the window was the functional kind that opened. As I stepped up to the glass and discovered metal grips at the bottom of the frame, elation rushed through me. It was one of the older buildings in the area, so it took some work to shimmy the panel upward, but soon enough I had a gap big enough to climb through.
I leaned out and discovered a ledge about thirty centimetres deep. Enough space to fit my feet without any dangerous overhang.
I pulled my head back in and heard the main door opening at the other end of the corridor. My body tensed with fear, and I reminded myself to stay calm. Now more than ever, I needed to be switched on and focused on my goal. They were coming for me, and if I didn’t hurry, they'd be onto me in seconds. I stretched one leg outside and held onto the frame to lift my other leg through. As I leaned forward to complete the motion, one of the metal grips snagged my pack, and my stomach dropped as it yanked me backward.
Shit, shit,shit.
Footsteps and conversation drifted toward me, along with the sound of one door handle after another being shaken. They were comfortable making noise and taking their time, and although I appreciated the extra seconds it gave me, I hoped their arrogance would eventually be their undoing. Why should I have to bethisscared while they casually strolled down the corridor as if it was merely a matter of time before they got their hands on me?
This was mylife.Iwas in control of what happened to me.
I worked the handle of my pack free and slipped outside, trying my best to keep quiet as I eased the frame down again. When I faced the building and shifted my foot sideways, my boot slipped on the painted ledge, and I gasped as I reached for the drainpipe beside me. I held onto it in a death grip, my breaths coming faster and faster, my mind reeling. I'd beensoclose to falling, either to my death or a serious injury that would leave me vulnerable to the men and the infected.
With no time left, I shimmied out of view of the glass before they could see me.
Relief rushed over me, but I wouldn't let myself get comfortable.
Once I’d taken a mini break to regain my composure, I looked over my shoulder and took stock of my surroundings. This side of the hotel faced the road that led to the highway and freedom. If the gang hadn't interrupted us, we might have been jumpstarting a new vehicle by now and getting the hell out of the city.
I faced the bricks again and thought over my options. My position would only be safe for a short time. If one of the men walked by on the footpath below, they'd spot me up here and then I truly would be trapped. The dead might catch onto my existence too, and if they gathered below me it would be like a marker pinpointing my location.
I needed to figure out how to lower myself from the ledge and run.
I took in the entire length of the ledge on my right. There had to be a fire escape or some other way out for situations when the stairs and elevators were unusable, otherwise the hotel would be a death trap. Gripping the drainpipe with both hands, I leaned out backward to get a better view and spotted a metal ladder fixed to the wall. The sight had my heart soaring and relief washing over me.
With a glance in the opposite direction, I found another one closer to my location, but reaching it would mean passing by the lounge window, and I had no idea where the men were or if they were still lurking on this floor. I couldn’t risk being seen, so I braced myself and ignored the nerves churning in my stomach. With my hands clutching the pipe, I used a shuffling motion to step around it, then reached for the next window frame.
No one could enter any of the rooms without breaking the doors down, so I wouldn't have to worry about being seen from inside. All I needed to do was keep my balance and hold on tight. Focus on each step.
The warm breeze blew my hair from my face while I continued my shuffle-grab-shuffle-grab movements. As I got closer to the ladder, I tried my hardest to keep my emotions in check. Whenever my thoughts drifted to Cruz and I let myself wonder whether he’d evaded the gang, I pushed them out, knowing it would only lead to trouble. He was stronger than me and had more experience in these situations. Out of the two of us, he had the best chance of survival.
I glanced over my shoulder to keep track of what was going on behind me. Nothing appeared to be any different on ground level. A larger group of the infected milled around near the parkland behind me, but I couldn't see any movement from the gang members. Their car hadn’t started up again either. Whatever they were doing while they remained on foot, they were doing it quietly—a little unnerving when their default behaviour had been obnoxious.
I returned my attention to the window. A harsh breath ripped from me, and I almost stumbled straight off the ledge. An infected man stared back at me from the inside, his hands and face pressed against the dirty glass. I surprised myself by keeping my scream contained, but the shock made me grip the window frame to keep myself from falling. His reddened eyes locked onto me, and he let out an inhuman moan that I hoped to God the men couldn't hear from the hallway.
I couldn't spend long recovering from the shock. With trembling limbs, I shuffled along the ledge while the infected man repeatedly banged his head against the glass, hitting it so hard that someone would surely have to pick up on the noise.
When the ladder was within reach, I grabbed the metal handrail and glanced up and down the length of it, noting that it went all the way to the roof. The ground still seemed like the safest option. I could find a place to hide while I waited for the men to head off somewhere else; stay there and be quiet while I worked out how to reconnect with Cruz. Climbing higher limited my chances of escape if they surrounded me, and the idea of being trapped up there made me itchy.
