The light in the closet came on and they heard a gasp.
“Nick?” Ricky whispered. He stood back and scanned the room.
Amber peered around his shoulder.
“Where are you, Nick?”
Ricky reached in and pulled on the rolling housekeeping cart. Something deep in the shadows, under the shelf, made a whining screech that faded slowly like the source of it was moving away.
“That’s not Nick,” Ricky said.
Amber put her hand on his arm.
“Let’s just go then,” Amber said to him. “Like you said, it’s not him. Remember Nick and forget whatever is there.”
“So what happens to this thing?” Ricky asked.
“We leave this door open and we leave the door open to the room across the hall. The sunlight will come through here eventually. That will disinfect whatever is in there.”
Ricky thought about it for a moment, looking back and forth between the room and the closet.
“Too risky. What if it manages to hide in the shadows. What happens tonight?”
“You could say the same about all the things that were in the dining room this morning. They disappeared when the firemen showed up, but we don’t know what they’re going to get up to tonight. All we can say is that it’s not our problem and not our fault. The world has always been a dangerous place. Just because we survived doesn’t mean we have to sacrifice ourselves to make sure that nobody else is ever in danger.”
Ricky chewed his lip as he considered this.
“You’re right. But this was Nick. Riley knew what he was becoming and the idea tortured him. I won’t let Nick go through that too.”
“Fair enough,” Amber said. “You don’t have a…”
Ricky was already reaching forward, plucking the other half of the broomstick that he had shared with Nick. One end was slimy. Ricky wiped that on the carpet and then stared using the other end to pull things from the closet. Amber moved the cart, the mop bucket, and the packages of supplies that he dragged away. When they were done, she joined him in the doorway as he looked at what had become of Nick. He was hiding under the shelves. When Ricky stepped aside and let the light hit him, the thing screeched and gathered itself. It was still the size and shape of a person, and it still wore Nick’s clothes, but the skin was a dark grey and it looked like it was slick and ready to fall away.
Ricky crouched down, blocking the light out of sympathy.
His voice was thick when he spoke.
“Nick? Can you understand me?”
There was no response. Amber was about to say again that Nick was gone. Then, the thing managed to make an intelligible noise.
“Yes,” it said.
“I’m sorry I left you, bud,” Ricky said. “I should have found a way to get you help.”
“There’s no way to help,” it said.
“Maybe that’s not true. There are ambulances downstairs. Maybe they can get you to a hospital and…”
“Stop,” it said. “I’m not the same. This can’t be reversed.”
It was easy to believe the voice. The form in the shadows looked like it was well on the way to decomposition.
“You don’t know that for sure,” Ricky pleaded.
“There are lots of things I know now,” the voice said. “I was lying when I said that the scratches came from my own hands. They came from Aaron when he attacked me. If you hadn’t stopped him from latching on, this agony would all be over at this point. The infection is a much slower process.”
“How do you know that?” Amber demanded.
“I can’t say,” Nick said. “It’s just something that I understand now. The infection brings these instincts. The same way that a baby knows that its nourishment comes from a nipple, I know that the infection has turned me into a parasite. I have to feed if I want to survive. So, either feed me or destroy me. Either way, I’m lost to this infection.”
Ricky crouched there, wiping his face with the back of his hand and then returning his grip to the stake. His fingers were white with strain. Amber put out her hand, offering to take the weapon from him, but Ricky shook his head.
“I couldn’t help Riley, but I will help Nick,” he said.
With a deep breath, he rocked forward to his hands and knees and crept closer. Amber held her breath, praying silently for his safety.
The thing in the shadows seemed to be concerned for Ricky as well.
“Don’t get too close to me,” it said. “I won’t be able to control my thirst.”
Ricky stopped and raised the spear.
Amber watched as the shadow unfolded itself. When she saw the thing’s face, she raised her hand to block herself from seeing into its eyes. It was unnecessary. The thing kept its eyes shut.
Ricky seemed to understand what it was offering—the thing welcomed death with no trickery.
He advanced the stake with a trembling hand. Amber was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to drive it home with enough force, but then Ricky seemed to find his strength. The stake plunged through the thing’s eyelid and deep into its skull. It thrashed and screeched until he pulled back the stake and rammed it forward once more, piercing the second eye. Amber paid close attention to the way the body appeared to melt within the clothes. The whole process was too fast, almost like she was watching a movie being played at a high speed. The rotting skin kept its tension while the innards liquified and then the blob of liquid popped. Ricky scrambled back from the dark liquid that seeped out.
Both Amber and Ricky covered their mouths with their arms as thick gas began to rise like steam from the puddle.
They backed up until they were pressed against the far wall of the hallway and
