Tension tightened my stomach, and the invisible clock ticking over my head hurried me along. When I’d sufficiently doused the area, I pulled the gas firelighter from my back pocket and pressed the trigger, offering a silent apology to the owner. I lit the corner of a paper napkin, tossed it on the pooled alcohol, and waited a couple of seconds to make sure it took.
Flames licked at the corners, and the moment the soaked tissue fully ignited, my heart leapt to my throat. Time for the next step. I turned and rushed to the door, peeking out to meet Cruz’s eyes. He tilted his head to let me know it was safe to come out, and the two of us took off down the laneway toward our next location.
Just before we rounded the corner, I threw a final glance over my shoulder and caught the glow coming from the darkened windows of the pub. I was officially an arsonist. It wouldn’t be long before smoke was billowing from the rooftop and drawing the attention we were hoping for—but we still had a long way to go and no time to appreciate the progress we’d made.
“This way.” Cruz hung a right, giving the area a visual sweep as he continued toward our next stop. I drew my sword again and stayed behind him, keeping on the lookout for trouble as we jogged together. My breaths were coming faster, but the longer we kept going, the more I found myself adjusting to the constant state of pressure. Pretty soon I'd be a natural.
“Incoming,” he said a while later, his volume low.
Six of the infected were heading toward us in a close-knit group, jostling one another as they moved down the centre of the street. Putrescent flesh hung off their bones. Their clothing was weathered and stained, and a few of them looked like they'd been out in the elements since the beginning. The frontrunner locked onto our existence just as a male voice shouted from somewhere behind them, nearby but out of sight. It sounded like he was communicating with the others in the gang, but my stomach still dropped and my gaze bounced from one building to the next.
We needed to get off the streetfast.
The group of infected turned toward the new voice and gave us a few seconds to hide without them gathering outside the spot we'd chosen. We stopped jogging and scanned our surroundings. The door to the dry-cleaning business on our left hadn’t been properly closed and was still intact. We could lock it while we waited in there for the men to pass. “Here,” I said, touching Cruz's elbow to get his attention. My heart raced as I ran for the entrance and dived inside, happy to not hear a jingling bell announcing our arrival.
Cruz followed me in and closed and locked the door behind him. We ducked behind the counter to get away from the windows.
My breaths were panting from me as I took in the rows and rows of racks at the rear of the shop. Most of them were empty, but the remaining hanging bags blocked our view of the space as a whole. It was impossible to know from a glance whether we were safe from the dead, but it didn’t have that telltale smell of decay and I couldn't hear any shuffling movements.
“Wait here.” Cruz moved up and down each row checking for the infected then slipped into the back room. My nerves were already heightened after almost running into the gang, but my body tensed when I lost sight of him. I didn't want us to be separated while we were out in the open like this, and I strained my ears to listen to his movements while he was gone.
Seconds later, three men ran past the shop in an easy jog—the tattooed man named Jackson flanked by a skinny redhead and an older man with salt and pepper hair. They appeared to be sweeping the area, their easy gait giving the impression the fire hadn’t made it onto their radar yet. We didn’t want any of them to catch onto our plan until the very last moment, giving us enough time to get to the car without encountering any speedbumps.
“How many?” Cruz asked as he joined me at the window.
“Three, heading in the direction we just came from. Not in a hurry either.”
“Good. Only two to worry about.” He curved his hand over my shoulder. “Are you still good?”
“Yep.” It was mostly true.
“Let’s keep moving then. We’ll go out through the rear in case they double back.”
The thought of them heading our way again had my grip tightening around my sword, but I pushed down the fear and readied myself for the next stage. We were doing well. I needed to stay focused on the goal and not get too caught up in the what-ifs. I followed Cruz around the counter and weaved through the rows of clothing racks with him, stepping into a kitchenette out the back. He eased the door open and leaned out to check the alley.
After giving the all-clear, he slipped outside into the late afternoon sunshine. I stuck close to him, taking in every detail of our surroundings as we ran together. The confidence I was enjoying before had apparently been a fleeting thing, and all it took to shake it was catching sight of the men. Now, I felt like a gazelle approaching a watering hole while a bunch of lions lay in wait, and it made me wonder how long my heart could pound like this before it tapped out and gave up completely.
Urgency had taken hold of us both as we hurried along the cobblestones, our footsteps so light they barely made a sound. When we reached the end of the lane, Cruz popped his head around the corner for a glimpse then stepped out onto the main street.
“You smell that?” I whispered.
“Smoke. Better step up the pace.”
We'd hoped the smoke would draw all five of them in the direction of the fire, but our next stop would create another diversion if that one failed. Cruz and I rushed along the street, sidestepping three of the infected as they tried to make a grab for us. Another two stumbled from the opening of a destroyed nightclub, but we were moving too fast.
We reached the entrance to an apartment building a block away from the car, and Cruz pulled the door open. I checked the street in both directions before I followed him inside. The lobby had the same punch-you-in-the-face smell as the last one I’d occupied, and I recoiled for a moment before I chased Cruz up the stairs.
We’d decided on the second floor for this next stage, needing the extra height. By the time we’d raced up both flights, I was thankful I’d paid so much attention to cardio during my daily training sessions. Cruz ran like he was crossing flat ground, and as soon as we reached the landing, he took off to check the apartments for unlocked doors as if the exertion had no effect on him.
“Here,” he said as he pushed open one of the doors. He stepped inside with his knife at the ready, and before I’d even reached the doorway, two thuds greeted me out in the hall.
I walked in to find him leaning over the bodies, still as calm as ever. As I secured the door, I took in the scene, impressed. "You move fast."
The ghost of a smile passed over his face as he straightened. “Let's just say I’m motivated.”
I sheathed my sword, intrigued by the lightness in his voice. “By what?”
His amusement lingered, and he gave me a steady look that stirred a chain reaction of thrills inside my body. “The need to get you out of here and somewhere safe,querida.”
