Breathless - Swarm Book 2: (An Epic Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller), page 26
Unable to witness any more of these desperate people’s heartaches, Kim ducked her head, her vision blurring as she squirmed her way over to the red public phone affixed to the adjacent wall.
“Doesn’t work love,” said a heavily perspiring man with a lost expression, clasping a little girl with dark hair, about four or five years old, close to his chest. The girl’s eyes were closed. Her face beneath the dull blood stains was stark white and her arms dangled lifelessly toward the floor.
Emma’s hair was dark too. Swallowing her sob, Kim whispered, “I’m so sorry.” But what good were words?
The father didn’t respond. Just stood there swaying from side to side holding his dead daughter.
Hand pressed hard against her mouth, Kim stumbled away, inching through the crowd until she found a corridor where there were fewer people. She shuffled further along until their cries were no more than a distant thread of sound. Head throbbing, she slid down the wall to slump on the cold floor, salty tears streaking down her face.
After blowing her nose, she checked her phone with shaking hands. No bars. No signal. She struggled to hold back more useless tears. Her breath shuddered, causing the ache in her ribs to intensify in a sharp spasm. Grimacing, she tossed the phone into the green bag then dug out a water bottle and some paracetamol from the first aid kit. She’d refrained from requesting an X-ray given the number of people who had far greater needs than her own. She’d wait until this emergency event was over. A few days, a week perhaps and life should return to normal. She quickly shut down the thought that whatever was happening wasn’t normal.
After relieving her dry throat with a long drink and swallowing the pills, she closed her eyes. The floor was cold and hard beneath her body but she didn’t care. She needed to rest, recharge her energy levels, even if it was only for a couple of hours. Then she’d resume her journey to Sydney. Her head sagged lower, her aches and pains fading into the distance along with the rumble of voices and the rush of footsteps along the corridor.
The squeak of a passing gurney woke her. She pried open eyes that felt full of sand while her groping fingers found her phone, then checked for coverage. No signal. She checked the time. She’d slept for four hours, longer than she’d planned. Queasiness roiled in her belly as her gut cramped at how long had passed. But regardless of what happened today, she wouldn’t stop until Sydney’s Harbor Bridge was in sight.
Fingers clawing at the cool, concrete walls, Kim struggled to her feet, feeling every stiff joint and aching bruise, not to mention the various painful cuts and abrasions adorning her abused body. Rolling her shoulders and twisting her neck to and fro helped alleviate the stiffness but she definitely needed more paracetamol for the pain. And what she wouldn’t do for a shower and a coffee.
She wasn’t the only one who’d sought refuge from the Emergency department. Several people were huddled along the corridor, soft snores resonated from the closest one. Kim fought down a yawn as she re-tidied her hair into a ponytail and tugged at her wrinkled T-shirt before making for the closest restroom. Splashing cold water on her face helped her to wake up fully and she refilled her two water bottles to the brim.
She slipped her heels off and inspected her aching feet. No surprise that her heels and both little toes were dotted with burst, bloody blisters. She soothed a thin layer of the antibiotic cream she’d taken from her first aid kit over her skin. The idea of walking barefoot over that sticky, blood-stained floor made her skin crawl, so she forced her feet back into her shoes.
She hobbled through the hospital keeping an eye out for a pair of discarded shoes that might fit and found some flats outside the Maternity section. But after easing her heels off then trying them on, she discovered they were too small. Biting down on the pain pulsing from her feet, she pushed her heels back on. She wouldn’t try doing that again in a hurry until she found the right size. She shuffled past hordes of people slumped in the passageways as they waited for help. She edged into a ward which was packed with patients hooked up to ventilators or oxygen, obviously suffering from the effects of the toxic smoke.
Shannon looked up from where the baby was feeding at her breast and waved as Kim crossed to where she lay on a gurney in a narrow space between two occupied beds. “I’m so glad to see you.”
But before Kim could utter one word, someone in the corridor erupted into a fit of wet coughing interspersed with hacking. Something heavy hit the floor and a woman burst into tears. The sounds of sick and dying people flowed into the ward. There was a muffled thump as if something else had hit the ground. A body rolled into view.
“What’s going on?” Shannon shifted as if about to go look for herself.
“Stay still.” Kim placed a restraining hand on Shannon’s arm as a nurse raced over and crouched beside the fallen woman.
The howls and moans coming from outside the ward intensified. A man lurched into the room, clutching his chest, a young kid by his side. By some miracle he missed tripping over the woman and nurse. Blood spurted from the man’s wide-stretched mouth and leaked from his eyes. His hair was grayed with ash. A few flecks dropped onto his shoulders with each stumbling step. He gurgled then toppled like a tree onto the tiles in the center of the ward. The boy clutching his trouser leg fell with him. The man’s bare heels kicked the ground as he convulsed. His back arched. Blood dribbled from his ears.
The kid’s eyes were huge in his snow-white face. “Please! Someone help my dad!”
Another nurse reached for a mobile defibrillator and as she ran over, shot a pleading glance in Kim’s direction.
“I’ll see if I can lend a hand.” Her knees quaked as she stepped away from Shannon. Her belly twisted as nausea rolled but she choked down her shaky nerves. She had no medical training but the least she could do was push the convulsing man onto his side.
She hurried to the fallen man and his son. The power cut out and absolute darkness dropped like a blanket over the ward. Someone screamed. A gurney crashed into what sounded like a wall. She lifted her hands, groping the shadows in front of her. She was nearly there—one more step. Then her foot slid out from under her, slamming her onto the hard surface. Pain rippled like fire along her spine and over her skull dulling her senses while the boy shrieked, “Please! My daddy’s dying!”
Chapter 27
KEIKO SATO. BOULDER, COLORADO
Sam sniffed at the air. “Is this smoke coming from California?”
Keiko hiked Maiko’s T-shirt over her nose and mouth, then pulled her own Metallica T-shirt up to serve as a makeshift mask. Netsy followed suit. “All the news reports say so.” She needed to get them all to safety. Away from the smoke that blotted out the sun. Away from the Boulder Boyz.
“Then it’s highly toxic.” Sam disappeared around a dumpster pushed close to the wall, returning with a duffle bag. He dropped the duffle on the asphalt and unzipped it. “I grabbed these after I heard what Jacob Horowitz was doing. I ran them out here before those goons showed up.”
Sam pulled lab coats out of the bag, revealing full-face respirators underneath. “There are five. The toxin doesn’t appear to affect most animals, so I didn’t get one for Henry. Right, Henry? Who’s a good boy?” He skritched behind the dog’s ears.
Keiko took three respirators and passed one to Netsy. “Sam, I could kiss you.”
Sam blushed and looked at the asphalt.
“Don’t worry. Not literally. It’s just an expression.” Keiko fitted a respirator to Maiko’s face and tested the seals. The mask swallowed Maiko—her eyes peeped out from the very bottom of the lenses, but the seals were good. Keiko slipped her own mask on, then helped Netsy fit hers, being careful not to hurt her injured ear.
Sam fitted Jesse and himself, then gave Keiko a thumbs up without making eye contact. “Where do we go now?”
“I don’t…”
Squealing tires cut off Keiko mid-sentence. She whipped around to face the sound. A beat-up, white Chevy Silverado pickup truck barreled across the parking lot straight at her. Keiko froze, then grabbed Maiko’s hand and sprinted, leading the others toward a narrow opening between her lab and an adjacent building—the same path they’d taken to the lab—one too narrow for a truck. “Follow me!”
The path opened to a courtyard in a corporate office park. A marble fountain burbled, flanked at cardinal points by wooden benches. The circular mosaic on which the fountain and benches sat made a sundial. Multiple paths identical to the one they’d just come down branched out from the courtyard. From behind Keiko, at the head of the path they’d run down, tires screeched, skidding to a halt. Four doors slammed shut. She chose the path closest to the sundial’s southeastern VI—exactly opposite the arrow of shadow. “Let’s go!” she whispered, and they ran. Back in the courtyard, excited male voices argued over what direction to go.
She knew two of the male voices. Joe McCarty and Shane, the rich kid. Netsy’s assailants. The Boulder Boyz had found them.
Keiko ran, followed by Netsy on her injured knee, lagging with Maiko, and Sam leading Jesse. Henry ran apace with Sam. Keiko’d promised to lead the way to handle who came at them. She’d already told herself what she would do if Shane or Joe McCarty or one of their maggots showed up: she’d shoot first, not miss, and not bother to ask questions later. Why they’d bothered to hunt her down wasn’t her concern; ending their reign of terror was.
She stopped where the buildings ended and the path opened up to a lot. She threw a glance over her shoulder, hoping the footsteps she heard behind her were Netsy’s and Maiko’s and not the Boulder Boyz.
Netsy stumbled to a stop beside Keiko. Maiko came a moment later, then Sam, now carrying Jesse, coughing, his mask dangling from his arm. Sam let Jesse down onto the path. “His mask slipped off. I’ll fix it as fast as I can.”
“Hurry.” Orange-black rotor clouds reached out from the mountains, looking like fins running down a dragon’s tail. Keiko listened for footsteps over the sound of her labored breathing and everyone else’s lungs gasping for air. “I wish I knew where they were.”
Netsy leaned in close. She lowered her voice and spoke between heavy breaths. “What’s this mess?” She nodded toward the charred remains of a building in the lot in front of them. A dust devil kicked up, spraying ash and dirt as it danced among the ruins.
Keiko scanned the area. “It used to be a library.” One of the pyres I saw last night. “I hoped we could hide inside. Come on, we have to go. We’ll go behind that wall in back that’s still mostly standing. Maybe that will hide us. How’s your knee?”
“It really hurts.”
Sam popped up. “I’ve got Jesse’s mask fixed.”
“Okay, just a little more. I think I know a place we can go. Run as fast as you can.”
A male voice echoed among the office park buildings, ringing out above the turbulent wind. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” The voice was close.
No more time. Go! Now! Keiko grabbed Maiko and plunged out of the sheltered pathway between the office buildings and into the open, buffeted by the winds, tasting the light tang of smoke even through her respirator, hoping she wasn’t inhaling the deadly toxin. She ran toward the blackened wall, hauling Maiko as fast as her daughter’s six-year-old legs could run. Keiko’s holstered gun thumped against her breast. Sharp jabs in the small of her back reminded her where she’d lazily jammed the other handgun. Every stride sent her knapsack either bouncing away from her back or crashing back into her. Her lungs ached and her thighs lifted like heavy, wet clay, but she ran until she put the ruined corner wall between her and the Boulder Boyz.
Netsy arrived several agonizing seconds later. Sam and Jesse reached the shelter of the building just after Netsy, whose knee had swollen and doubled in size. She lifted her respirator and wiped at her eyes, wincing when she touched the bruised skin. She looked at Keiko and tried to smile. “I’m not crying, you’re crying.”
Keiko touched Netsy’s cheeks and held her there for a moment. Other than Maiko—and the hug they’d shared when Netsy told her of her parents’ death—it was the most intimate contact she’d had with a human in years. She looked into the eyes of this brave teenage girl, one who had seen so much more injustice and violence than she had, and in fewer than half the years she had been alive. She didn’t know how she kept going, and with the positive spirit she did. Hopefully, she only had to go a little longer. “Go ahead of me. When you get to the next corner, turn left. There will be a Thai restaurant called Chao Phraya. I know the owner. His name is Jed Akkarawong. Bang on the door until he comes. Tell him you know me and you need his help. Do you understand me?”
Netsy nodded her head. “But I’ve gotta be honest, I’m about to lose it, Miss Keiko.” Netsy tugged at her shirt, clenching the hem in her fingers, twisting and crushing the fabric.
Keiko took Netsy’s hands and pulled them away. “You can do this, Netsanet. You are small, but you are strong.”
“I don’t feel strong.”
“But you are. Now go. Take Maiko and go to Chao Phraya. Sam, follow Netsy, okay? I’ll be there soon.”
Netsy resealed her respirator. “What are you going to do?”
A good question. What are you going to do, Sato? “I don’t know. Something. Now go.”
Netsy sniffled and looked down at Maiko. “Can you run, girlfriend?”
“All day long, sister.”
Sister. The word sounded so much better coming from Maiko-chan than Jacob Horowitz.
“All right then. Let’s go. Come on Sam.”
Netsy, orphaned, hobbled, and black-eyed, violated, bruised, shot, and missing part of her ear, took Maiko’s hand and ran, sprinting like a wounded gazelle.
Keiko watched until everyone—four humans and a dog—turned the corner. They were in the Universe’s hands now.
Two young men emerged from between the office buildings Keiko had just fled. Both wore mirrored aviator sunglasses and white tees under tactical military vests. Both held large handguns. One coughed into his hand. The other turned his head this way and that, searching…
So…what now, Sato? The enemy is at the gates and you still don’t have a plan.
She crouched in the shadow of the ruined wall, counting, giving Netsy time to get the others to Chao Phraya. The two men talked to one another—too far away for her to hear what was being said, but near enough to hear the sounds of their voices—the whole time scanning the area. For me. It was the longest ninety seconds of her life.
She visually measured the distance between her and the two men. It wasn’t much. Forty or fifty yards. Close enough to shoot, but not close enough to guarantee a head shot. The tactical vests they wore didn’t help either. She decided to hold fire until she had a better shot, but it had better happen soon, because eventually they were going to move out and away, and once they did, it wouldn’t take long for them to find her. There was no way around it: she had to make a run for it. She had to get back to Maiko. She leaned out around the corner for one last look to see if it was safe to go, just as one of the men turned and looked straight at her.
The man pointed at Keiko. “There!” He punched the other man in the arm and she was running before they’d even taken a step toward her.
She ran at a full sprint, dodging beams of charred wood and broken glass, hopping over blackened masonry, racing with every ounce of her being to get to Chao Phraya before the Boulder Boyz caught her. Or shot her. She turned left at the corner and sprinted down the birch-lined sidewalk. No sign of Netsy or Sam. They must have made it.
Four quick, dry pops echoed down the street. The sidewalk splintered at her feet, sending shards of cement flying. A fifth bullet shattered a plate glass window beside her head. Chao Phraya was just ahead. Two more storefronts and she was there.
She tripped and fell. Nicely done, Sato. She scrambled to her feet, limping, waiting for the bullet that would kill her. It didn’t come—but the footsteps were gaining on her.
A door flew open. A hand reached out, grabbed her forearm, hauled her inside. Jed Akkarawong slammed the door shut. “Go! Into the Dragon Room!” He pulled hard on the security door and slammed it shut onto the forearm that thrust its way into the doorway. A man screamed. His gun clattered to the floor. Jed pulled back on the security door, then slammed it again. The Boulder Boy pulled his arm back just in time to save it from being crushed. Jed locked the security door. Outside a man screamed in agony.
“Why are you here? I said go into the Dragon Room!” Jed grabbed the gun off the floor and pointed it at Keiko. “GO!”
Keiko lumbered around the bar and ducked behind the green door, pulling it shut behind her. Huddled in the corner, hiding behind a baseball-bat wielding Dr. Sam Leary, were Maiko, Netsy, and Jesse. Standing beside Sam, hackles raised, ears flat, teeth bared, rigid as iron, stood Henry.
Maiko ran to her mother. “Mama, you made it!”
Keiko knelt in front of Maiko and whispered. “Shhh…no talking. Yes, I made it. I’m here.” She looked over Maiko to Sam. “Thank you, Sam.”
Sam looked at the floor. “Sure thing.”
“Where did you get the bat?”
“It was behind the bar.”
Keiko shifted her glance to Netsy and mouthed the words “You okay?” Netsy made a grim smile and raised her thumb.
Outside in the restaurant, a gun fired. Glass shattered. Then Jed screamed. “Out! Get out of my restaurant! Yes, big man, I have a gun too!”
Keiko leaped to her full height. Jed was going to get himself killed. She dashed to the secret door hidden by the mural of the dragon-serpent Phaya Naga. She ran her hands up and down the wall, feeling for the latch. Four voices shouted. Jed and three other men.
