“Dan, this isn’t on you. You and the lads just saved my ass and the other men that were in there; if you hadn’t got here when you did, I don’t think we would have got out. There is no way you could have known it was going to go down like that.”
Dan looks down. “Maybe, Boss. Thanks.”
“Look, Dan, I think we are faring better than most caught up in this shit storm and we have got to carry on doing whatever is necessary to get through, to survive, okay?”
“Okay, you’re right of course. What next?”
“We need to get off this floor. I expect Emily is wondering where I am,” I say only half joking, trying to lighten Dan’s mood.
“She will be, no doubt. Your face has blood on it, maybe you should wash up before she sees you…and Catherine too.”
“Okay, mate, let’s get moving.”
One of the lads is tying the two canteen door handles together with a belt; where it has come from, I don’t ask. Mick, Digger and the other lad who were in the foyer with us are over by one of the tables taking a breather, letting what just happened sink in. Digger is sitting on the table and Mick in a chair, whilst the lad I’m not familiar with is standing; he looks some years younger than us older veterans and is looking a bit shaken. I go over to them, but Mick is very stony-faced which is not surprising. He and Ian were quite close, had spent time in uniform together and then worked closely again out of uniform including here at Orion. So, he, as we all did, knew Steve well.
“Alright, lads,” is all I can think of to say at first when I reach them. I get a couple of alrights back but don’t get much from Mick.
Turning to the new lad, I introduce myself. His name is Tom. He is around 5’10” and well-built with short blond hair and a close-cut beard, my guess would be that he’s in his early to mid-thirties. I ask him if he is okay after the contact in the foyer and he assures me that he is. It is clear that he is shaken, however, but then again so am I; you just hide it better as you get older, I suppose.
I speak to Mick directly, and he comes around a little. “At least Ian’s back with his wife now,” he says. I really hope he is right and that he has not turned into one of those monsters beginning to bang and push at the canteen doors, but I keep that thought to myself.
Chapter 13
As we move out of the canteen, we gather together any remaining supplies and weapons. Almost everything has already been cleared out though; it looks like the civvies pulled their fingers out in the end.
There is a constant bombardment of the canteen doors, some of the crashes and bangs against them quite severe. The doors are visibly jolting inwards and vibrating from this attack. Rabids are snarling and screeching feverishly just the other side, in their determination to resume our battle. I wouldn’t put any money on the doors holding them back for long.
We move through to the kitchen, which has also all but been cleared out. I tell everyone to double check, however. I radio Stan to lock the doors between the kitchen and the canteen and we tie the door handles together again. The kitchen shutters that open out into the canteen are already down and secured.
There is a mirror on the wall by the sinks and I go over to see how much Rabid blood is on my face. Dark red splatters of dried blood pepper my skin; these have been turned into streaks down the middle of my face where I tried to wipe the blood off in the middle of the battle. It doesn’t look or feel good at all. My mind fools me into believing that the virus is crawling all over my face. At least, I hope it’s just my mind playing tricks.
A bottle of anti-bacterial surface cleaner sits on the back of the sink next to me, and I turn on the hot tap, put a towel next to the sink and place my M4 on the worktop next to it. While the others check for any remaining supplies, I twist off the top of the anti-bacterial cleaner and then proceed to scrub it into my face and hands, washing it off with the now piping hot water. The cleaner stings my eyes and the hot water scalds my skin, but I ignore the pain and repeat the process. Again, it goes through my mind that the blood could be contagious; am I already infected? I put that of out my mind once more; there is no way for me to know and if I am, I will deal with it when and if it becomes apparent. I repeat the cleaning process for the third time.
By the time I have finished disinfecting, my skin feels raw and dry, my eyes still stinging slightly. Most of the men have moved out to the corridor at the rear of the kitchen where the service lift and stairs are. Dan, Digger and Tom remain; I quickly finish drying myself off, pick up the M4 and then check in the mirror a final time to see how I’m looking before we get upstairs. My irritated skin makes my face bright red and blotchy, and I can only hope this subsides quickly.
“Beautiful,” Dan jokes as I look in the mirror.
“Hardly, but thanks. I always knew you had feelings for me.” Dan left himself open for that one.
“How right you are! Are you set, Boss?”
“Yep, let’s get out of here.”
Leaving the kitchen behind, we go out into the corridor to join the
