With his arms splayed out beside him and his mouth half open, he reminded me of all the bodies I'd seen in the traffic pileup. I winced at the sight and looked away, ashamed, relieved. If he survived, we'd hopefully be on our way out of the city before he could find us or rejoin the rest of his group.
"Are you all right?" Cruz asked, sparing me a concerned look as we stood at the building's entrance.
We didn't have time to indulge in an in-depth discussion about my mental health, so I kept my answer short as we checked the street for threats. "I'll be fine. I just really want to get out of here."
It looked like we had a clear path, but as we were about to take off, another loud, male voice came from what sounded like one or two streets over. He must have found the flaming bottle, and if they hadn’t caught onto it already, the fire in the pub would be next. If we could keep them all contained to this area, they’d be too busy searching for us in the wrong spot to realise we'd moved on to our next location.
“We need to work fast,” Cruz said. “Keep the momentum going.”
We ran for another half a block, and he urged me into a narrow walkway between two buildings, stepping in behind me to rummage in my backpack again. While I slipped the lighter and scrap of fabric from my pockets, Cruz pulled another bottle free. We went through the same routine as before, only this time when he pitched the fiery bottle down the opposite end of the street, there was no man to scare the crap out of me when we ran.
My heart raced as we took off, and I hoped I had enough energy left in my reserves to keep up with Cruz.
We dodged several of the dead on the way to our final stop and took down a couple of stubborn ones that couldn't be avoided. All the while we kept on the lookout for the fifth member of the gang who hadn’t been sighted yet; if I remembered correctly, he had to be the blonde one who'd leaned out the hotel window, the smallest one of the crew. He could have been hiding anywhere or watching us from a rooftop ready to alert the others to our location. The not knowing turned out to be almost as disconcerting as the physical threat I'd just been through.
As we reached the massive stone building that housed the bank, my pulse pounded and my nerves had reached an all-time high.
This was it—our final stop.
Situated opposite the traffic congestion where it all began, the bank gave us the best vantage point to survey the area before we committed to a sprint for the car. It was also the shortest distance between us and the vehicle.
The double glass doors of the bank had been caved in at some point and from the front steps, I could see bodies scattered across the floor. Camp stretchers were spaced out in the main area, with makeshift privacy curtains hanging from ropes in between each one. It looked like it was being used as accommodation for people who’d survived at least one wave of the virus, but I had no idea what had happened to them—or if the way it ended had anything to do with the gang.
Cruz and I stopped at the outer edge of the marble foyer and he reached into my backpack to grab the last bottle. “You did good back there," he said. "Not the part when you ran straight into trouble without thinking." I heard the smile in his voice as he rezipped the pocket of my bag. "The other bit, when you did the mental reset and figured out a solution."
Such a simple statement, yet it felt like high praise coming from him.
“Thanks.” I held out one of the remaining scraps of tea towel as he came around in front of me, trying not to remember the feel of my knife sinking into another person’s leg. "I didn't know if I had it in me. I can't believe I just... that I…"
Before he took the material from me, Cruz paused and cupped my chin, giving me a direct look that somehow seemed soft and caring at the same time. “Are you coping?”
“Yes,” I said quickly, glancing away as my tongue darted out to wet my lip. It wasn’t like either of us had a choice. We were being hunted by a pack of Neanderthals. Fighting was our only option if we wanted to feel safe at any point in the future.
“Look at me,” Cruz said gently. He swept his thumb along my jaw, and when my eyes returned to his, he asked, “Can youdothis?”
I pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What would happen if I said no?”
“We’d find another way.”
No hesitation, no question. He’d abandon the plan, lose the option of driving out of here, and give us the additional burden of coming up with an alternative solution.For me.I'd never known a man like him before. “I can get it done,” I said, confident I was telling him the truth, “but once we’re out of here, I need to stop somewhere just to... you know...stop.”
“Understood.”
My heart pounded like mad, and the adrenaline rushing through me made my knees tremble, but I’d hold it together until we were secure in the car and leaving this hellhole behind.
“Once we commit, there’s no going back.”
I gazed directly into his eyes. “Better get moving then.”
He gave me a long look and let go of my chin. "Dig deep," he said. "Focus. Everything you need is in here." Cruz tapped my chest with his index finger and held out his hand for the fabric scrap. He soaked and lit the material then passed the lighter back to me. When he stepped away, I breathed a sigh and watched as he threw the last bottle an impressively long distance. It crashed into the window of a café and straight through a set of gauzy curtains that immediately went up in flames.
It didn't take long for the dead to appear. They wandered toward the growing fire from several different directions, blocking off the mouth of the street—or at least making it more difficult for the gang to get through.
“It’s time,” Cruz said from the bank’s entrance.
I closed my eyes and took a bracing breath before opening them again. “Okay.”
“Remember: I'll cover you from behind while we run like the wind to the car. If anyone gets their hands on you, use your knife just like before. Don’t pull the key from your pocket until you’ve almost made it to the car. You still have it?”
