C H A P T E R 9
❛ familiar faces. ❜
MILO
THE MAN WITH THE CROSSBOW SLOWLY edged forwards, as though he was stalking a prey. His eyes held a venomous glare that sent shivers down Milo's spine. 'Who the hell are you?' He questioned, his voice demanding and his body wound as tight as the string of his bow.
'Who the hell are you?' Tomas shot back.
'He's bleeding out,' the man with the hatchet said, his eyes focused on the wounded man on the floor, not even bothering to look at the inmates, 'we gotta go back. Put pressure on the knee, hard. Hard!'
Milo watched with wide eyes how they tried to save the man's life but his attention was pulled back to the man with the crossbow when he ordered them to come out of their hiding place. Tomas was the first one to do so and the others, not having much of a choice, slowly followed. Milo held the stick in a tight grip, his eyes never leaving the man with the crossbow, his heart beating nervously in his chest.
'What happened to him?' Tomas asked, gesturing at the wounded man on the ground.
'He got bit,' the man with the crossbow spat back, clearly not wanting to chit-chat.
'Bit?' Andrew asked, his voice slightly shaking.
Suddenly Tomas raised his gun and Milo closed his eyes for a second to gather his patience. That definitely wasn't the way to handle the situation and if he were to lose his temper again they would truly be in big trouble.
'Do you have medical supplies?' An asian guy asked, completely unbothered by the gun pointing at their group. When no answer came, he got to his feet and headed straight for the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets and drawers.
'Hey, where do you think you're going?' Big Tiny shouted after him but the only answer he got came from the dead, who were still pushing against the doors.
'Who the hell are you people?' Tomas asked.
'Don't look like no rescue team,' Axel said.
'If a rescue team is what you're waiting for, don't,' the man with the hatchet spoke from his position on the floor, while desperately trying to keep the old man from bleeding out.
The words didn't come as a surprise and still it felt strange to hear them coming from someone else. They had all thought about it at some point during their time in the cafeteria, but now that it was said out loud, the situation seemed to change completely. Like all of it was suddenly real and could no longer be dismissed as some ridiculous nightmare.
The asian guy came out of the kitchen while pushing a table on wheels ahead of him. He brought it to the others who lifted the wounded man and put him on it. 'Come on, we gotta go!' Hatchet man cried when more blood flowed from the wound like water from a fountain.
'T, the door!' The hatchet man yelled.
A small brown, bald man walked towards it, throwing the doors open without hesitation. Almost immediately a corpse came stumbling inside. It was the first time since Milo had glanced out of the window during the riot that he caught sight of the dead. He almost choked on the rotting smell, his hand going to his mouth as he stared at the decaying corpse. Its skin was rotten, hanging from its bones like a coat two sizes too big and yet it still walked with such a strength that he felt like crawling into a hole and hiding there forever. The man, T, pushed the corpse against the wall, and brought his weapon down on the head of the corpse, killing it for good this time.
'Daryl!' Hatchet man yelled while running towards the exit, pushing the table with the wounded man on it out ahead of him. The asian boy and the girl followed, each guarding one of the corners of the table from the dead that waited for them in the hallway. They moved like a well oiled machine, as though they had done this hundreds of times before.
The man with the crossbow, apparently called Daryl, slowly walked towards the door, his eyes never leaving the prisoners until he stepped outside of the room and quickly walked after the others.
The group left as quickly as they had come, leaving nothing but an eerie silence and a limb in a puddle of blood behind. Milo felt himself unable to look away from it, his heart beating wildly in his chest while he tried to get some sort of grip on the situation. But it had happened so fast he could barely recall it happening at all.
But the door was wide open.
And he didn't seem to be the only one realising that fact. Tomas was the first one to move, slowly edging forward, as if afraid the door could fall shut any moment. But it didn't and the group had taken out every dead one that blocked the path before. Once Tomas stood in the hallway, the others seemed to decide it was safe enough and followed.
Milo took a deep breath before following as well, hoping it would somehow calm him, but it didn't. His heart was still beating way too fast, as though he'd run a marathon. Adrenaline was flying high through his veins and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't calm himself down enough to keep a straight head.
Even though the hallways were completely dark, it felt liberating to walk more than ten steps without meeting a wall. In the months they spent in the cafeteria, the prison seemed to have transformed into a haunted house. The once so bright fluorescent lights that hung from the ceiling were now broken. The only light came from the rays of sunlight that fell through the windows. Bodies littered the hallways and blood was everywhere, on the floor, the walls sometimes even on the ceiling. Milo tried his hardest not to look at it, but it was hard not to when the hallways were covered in dark stains of red.
'Follow their flashlights,' Andrew whispered at Tomas, who walked ahead with his gun raised.
They rounded a corner and could see the group of strangers watching them from a distance before quickly moving on. They couldn't stop to take care of the prisoners because of the wounded man but Milo was pretty sure they wouldn't just let them walk out of here. They didn't seem stupid enough to let prisoners roam free and he could hardly blame them.
Following the flashlights that lit up the hallways in front of them the inmates rounded corner after corner. Until finally a door came into their sights. There was a big white letter painted on the wall next to the exit. The people had led them into cell block C.
Tomas carefully took a step out of the hallways and into the cell block.
Milo shared a quick look with Oscar before following, his heart beating wildly in his chest.
The man with the crossbow, Daryl, was waiting for them, leaning on the table with his loaded bow pointed right at them. 'That's far enough,' he snarled. Milo almost expected him to bare his teeth and growl at them.
'Cell block C, cell four,' Tomas replied, 'that's mine, let me in.'
He winced at Tomas' tone, knowing it would get them killed if he kept it up.
'Today's your lucky day fellas, you've been pardoned by the state of Georgia, you're free to go,' Daryl said, ignoring Tomas' request completely.
'What you got going on in there?' Tomas asked.
'Ain't none of your concern.'
'Don't tell me what's my concern,' Thomas snapped and raised his gun but the action didn't seem to faze Daryl in the slightest. Instead he took a step forwards, his crossbow still raised, claiming his terrain.
'Chill man, dude's leg is messed up,' Big Tiny spoke, his eyes on Tomas' back, 'we're free, the hell are we still here for?'
'Man's got a point,' Daryl was quick to say.
'I gotta check on my ol' lady,' Oscar added.
'Group of civilians breaking into a prison you got no business being in,' Tomas said, 'got me thinking there ain't no place for us to go.'
Tomas said many stupid things since Milo had known him but this wasn't one of them. The exact same thought had been lingering in the back of his mind ever since the group had come bursting through the door. They looked like refugees; ragged, tired and without hope. If they were trying to find refuge inside a prison, what did the outside world look like?
'Why don't you go find out?' Daryl snapped.
'Maybe we'll just be going now,' Axel said, trying to take the edge off.
'Hey, we ain't leaving!' Tomas barked, his usual frustration leaking back into his voice.
Milo felt his grip on his stick tightening. He felt slightly ridiculous holding it when he was standing across from a man with a crossbow, but a stick would work perfectly fine if he had to knock Tomas unconscious. His freedom was so close and he wasn't going to let one idiot ruin this for them.
'You ain't coming in either!' A new voice joined the conversation. The bald, brown man from earlier came walking out of the shadows with his gun pointed at Tomas.
'This is my house, my rules, I go where I damn well please!' Tomas shouted, close to losing his patience.
'Imma tell you again,' Daryl spoke, his voice low and threatening, 'leave.'
Suddenly the man with the hatchet came running out of the cell block and Milo couldn't help but notice how his hands were covered in blood. 'Everyone, calm down, there's no need for this,' he said, holding his hand up.
Milo frowned at the man as a sudden rush of familiarity flared through his stomach. An old memory of events he had been trying so hard to forget now forced its way to the surface. The man, his hair, the way he stood, he seemed awfully familiar. It took him a full minute to realise why. The chances of this being the same man were, after all, pretty small. But as he took in the man his figure once again, he knew for certain that this was indeed the same man. The cop that Aiden shot down. He blinked and looked away from the man, wondering if he had gone insane from spending all that time locked up in a tiny space.
'How many of you are in there?' Tomas asked the man.
'Too many for you to handle,' the man replied but Milo could see something flicker in his eyes. He was lying.
'Did you guys rob a bank or something?' Tomas questioned. 'Why don't you take him to a hospital?'
Silence fell as the three men looked at each other, almost uncomfortable. Milo's stomach turned inside of him, and suddenly he wasn't sure he wanted to know what was going on.
'How long have you been locked in that cafeteria,' hatchet man finally asked, breaking the heavy silence. His eyes held a hint of pity.
'Like ten months,' Tomas replied slowly.
Another silence fell as the man gave a small nod. He seemed to search for the right words but was unable to find them, almost as if he had a big secret to tell, but couldn't figure out how.
'Riots broke out,' Big Tiny said, 'never seen anything like it.'
'Ever heard about dudes going cannibal, dying and coming back to life?' Andrew asked, shaking his head all the while. 'Crazy.'
'One guard looked out for us, locked us up in the cafeteria, told us to sit tight and said he'd be right back,' Tomas added.
'Yeah, that was 292 days ago,' Oscar mumbled.
'94 according to my-' Axel started but was cut off by Tomas yelling at him to shut up.
'We'd be thinking the national guard or the army would show up any day now,' Big Tiny went on explaining.
'There is no army,' the man slowly spoke, seeming to have found his voice again.
'What do you mean?' Milo asked, finding himself speaking up for the first time.
'There's no government, no hospitals, no police. It's all gone.'
Another silence fell as Milo took a deep breath. The world was shaking around him, his foundations knocked away. It couldn't be true, there had to be something left, somewhere, anywhere. The world couldn't be just...gone.
'For real?' Axel questioned.
'Serious.'
'What about my mom?' Big Tiny mumbled.
'My kids, my old lady,' Oscar added in a soft whisper, worry and disbelief sounding through his voice. 'You got a cell phone or something that we can call our families?'
'You just don't get it do you?' Daryl asked.
'No phones, no computers,' the familiar looking man said. 'As far as we know at least half the population has been wiped out. Probably more.'
The silence was becoming too heavy, the room seemed to close in around him. He had to get out of here, he had to see it with his own eyes because the images his brain were making up were too gruesome to keep looking at.
'Ain't no way,' Tomas stated.
'See for yourself,' hatchet man spoke, pointing at the door.
Milo was the first one heading for the exit, longing for a breath of fresh air to clear his head. He pulled the door open and took a careful step out into the sunlight. The warmth that surrounded him felt like a hug as he stepped outside for the first time in ten months. A smile broke through on his features before he could try and stop it. But as he walked down the steps and stepped out onto the courtyard that surrounded the cellblock, his smile faltered. The sight before him was one straight out of a horror film. The heavy, rotting smell almost made him gag. Bodies lay scattered around the courtyard, even the meadow beyond the fence was filled with them. Prisoners, guards and civilians alike, death had spared no one.
'Never thought I'd be so happy to see these fences,' Andrew said.
Milo didn't share his happiness. He couldn't look away from the bodies. Not even to enjoy the sight of the green trees or the grass or the sun. All his happiness had faded as soon as it came. This couldn't be what was left of the world. Even as the evidence lay before his very eyes, he still refused to believe it.
'You never said,' Andrew suddenly asked, turning to the men, 'how'd you get in here in the first place?'
'Cut a hole in the fence over by that guard tower,' Daryl responded, pointing at it.
'That easy huh?'
'Where there's a will, there's a way.'
'Easy for you to say,' Andrew snapped.
Milo was hardly listening, wondering why Andrew was worried about such a thing when the world seemed to have collapsed around them. He walked towards the fence, his eyes lingering on the dead bodies, careful not to step on any of them. For a moment Quinn appeared before his eyes and heart seemed to crumble in his chest. He had to go, find out if she was okay somehow...
'So, what, is this like a disease?' Big Tiny asked, making Milo turn around to look at him. He dreaded the answer but the question was already asked.
'Yeah,' the hatchet man replied, 'and we're all infected.'
Milo raised his eyebrows. 'What does that mean?' He asked, not able to keep the slight tremor out of his voice. He hardly cared if these people thought he was soft. He just learned the world had ended, he was allowed a little emotion.
'If I would kill ya, shoot an arrow in yer chest, you come back as one of these things,' Daryl explained, pointing at the dead bodies on the ground. 'It's gonna happen to all of us.'
'Where'd you come from?' Tomas suddenly asked, taking a step closer towards the hatchet man.
'Atlanta,' he replied with his heavy accident.
Tomas nodded. 'Where you headed?'
The man turned to face him, he seemed to grow taller as he faced the inmate, filling with an invisible strength that Milo couldn't help but admire. 'For now, nowhere.'
Tomas stood face to face with him and even from this distance Milo could feel the tension rising in the air. 'I guess you can have that area, over there by the water, should be comfortable.' He gestured towards the field behind them.
A heavy sigh left Milo his lips, making Oscar turn to him. Milo gestured towards Tomas' back and Oscar simply nodded. Both men knew he was well on his way to get them all killed.
'We're using that field for crops,' the man replied, his voice calm but with a threatening undertone, clearly telling Tomas not to keep pushing his luck.
'We'll help you move your gear out,' Tomas said, ignoring the warning.
'That won't be necessary, we took out these walkers. This prison is ours.'
'Slow down cowboy,' Tomas said, his voice mocking.
Andrew took a step closer towards the two. 'You snatched the locks of our door.'
Milo frowned, wondering what he meant by that. It wasn't like they knew the inmates were in there. They didn't free them to give them this prison.
'We'll give you new locks if that's how you want it,' the man replied. It was hard to tell if he was amused by Andrew's poor attempt to turn the discussion in their favor, or annoyed by it. Both were definitely a possibility.
'This is our prison,' Tomas said, gesturing around. 'We were here first.'
'Locked in a broom closet?' The man grinned, a mocking smile appearing on his face. But when he continued the grin disappeared and his features became as hard as stone. 'We set you free, we took it, it's ours.'
'We're moving back into our cell block,' Tomas said and Milo felt a sudden urge to hit the guy. He didn't want to start a fight with these people. He wanted to get out of here and find his sister.
'You'll have to get your own.'
'It is mine!' Tomas yelled and Milo recognised the growing anger. He could feel his muscles tensing as he readied himself for a fight. It was a habit by now. 'I still have personal artifacts in there that's about as mine as it gets.' And before anyone could even blink he pulled out his gun, aiming it right at the man.
In response Daryl raised his crossbow and the brown man took out his gun, aiming it at Tomas' head.
'Woah, woah, maybe work this out so everybody wins!' Axel said, jumping in between the men.
Milo put his stick down on the ground, not wanting to be seen as a threat and then he walked towards the group, coming to a halt next to Oscar, close enough to break the fight apart were it to happen.
'I don't see that happening,' Tomas replied with a quick glance at Axel.
'There are other cell blocks,' Milo reasoned, briefly wondering why he was trying to save Tomas' skin, but he forced that thought down to the depths of his mind.
'You could leave,' Daryl snarled. 'Try your luck out on the road.'
Silence fell as the men stared at each other, tried to read each other and to balance their words to make sure they didn't make a bomb go off by saying the wrong thing.
'How stocked is that cafeteria?' Hatchet man asked, changing the subject so abruptly that Tomas couldn't hide his expression of confusion. 'Six guys almost lasted a year.'
'Yeah, by the looks of it no one's been starving,' Daryl added.
Tomas looked between the two men, gathering himself before answering. 'There's only a little left.'
Milo raised his eyebrows at the down right lie the man was selling. There was more than enough for both of the groups. And these men only had to go back down there to see that. Lying was useless and stupid.
'We'll take half,' hatchet man said, 'in exchange we'll help clear out a cell block.'
'Didn't you hear him?' Andrew snapped. 'There's only a little left.'
A sigh left Milo's lips as he shook his head. 'Don't listen to 'em, there's more than enough left, I'll take the deal, even if they won't.'
Tomas turned to him, his eyes burning with rage but Milo stared right back at him, completely calm. He knew he had to be careful. Now that they weren't all locked up anymore there was nothing stopping Tomas from killing him. He knew that, but wasn't going to let the man walk over him anymore or get them all killed. He wasn't planning on dying today.
Hatchet man narrowed at Tomas and then turned his eyes to Milo, nodding. 'Bet you got more food than you got choices. You pay, we'll play. We'll clear out a block for you, then you keep to it.'
'Alright,' Tomas finally nodded.
'But let's be clear,' he added, stepping closer to Tomas, so he almost touched him. 'If we see you out here. Anywhere near our people, if I catch even a whiff of your scent, I will kill you.'
Tomas scanned the man's face, but finally seemed to realise he wasn't going to win this. And so he nodded. 'Deal.'
edited: ✔