My eyes glanced back to the key in the corner of the map. There was a star. Next to it indicated a ‘civilized zone.’ I imagined that the civilized zone was a place with order and some resemblance of a past society driven out from its natural place of life by the contaminated. There were three stars on the map. One was located in Houston, Texas. That made sense. Everyone knows that every single citizen and child in Texas owns a gun. It was probably the safest place on earth. Another star was in Seattle, Washington. This one baffled me. Maybe the contaminated just did not want to make their way north to the colder climate. Regardless of the reasoning, it seemed that Washington was a place that was safe from harm. The final star was placed on Kansas City.
“Seems like this is the final bit of proof that we need,” I said to Zach, pointing at the star on Kansas City. “Though we do have options.”
Zach shook his head, “Not many options though. Kansas City is by far the easiest for us to get to, though the Texas climate would probably be the most ideal place to settle.” He shook his head, “No. if we need a backup plan, I say that we go to Washington. This way we can pick up our friend near Denver and continue on our way.”
“Not a bad plan,” Chelsea said. “The only problem is that I don’t plan on Kansas City to be empty. In fact I won’t believe it.”
“Agreed,” I added. “Alright, we have been here for a while longer than I would like. I think it is time we were off,” I said, stashing the map and census papers into my pack.
Zach nodded and made his way toward the door. He opened it and peeked out before closing the door with extreme haste. He held his back on the door, holding it shut.
“What-“ I began, but was cut off by Zach’s hand clamping over my mouth.
Chelsea appeared at my side, bat in hand. Zach stayed at the door, his own bat at the ready but his body unmoving. I reached over and gripped my wrench tight.
Under the crack of the doorway I saw shadows moving in the dim light of the stadium, but they did not disappear. The movement kept going, darkness dancing against the small opening as a hissing and spitting rang out from the other side of the door.
This abandoned refuge was still harboring refugees, and they were hungry.
Chapter 24
I could tell that they were circling, the contaminated. I knew these motions before, the circling and hissing: the feeding. There must have been a wave of hunger throughout the contaminated to bring them to this point. When we entered the stadium, there were no signs of nearby contaminated and no corpses appeared inside of the stadium. The contaminated must have been hungry and were starting fresh.
A bellowing roar and raspy hiss echoed through the entire stadium above that of the chanting group. A kill must have been made. The feasting began. As I imagined, the larger of the contaminated were getting the first bite to eat for themselves, as none of the smaller contaminated were going to fight them for the food as they would have wound up the meal. This feast was quick though, only lasting a few seconds before the noise died down and the circling began again.
The kill must have been quick and on a smaller contaminated. The larger one would eat the smaller contaminated right up, as if it was a bite sized snack. I imagined the leg of the torn apart contaminated lying on the ground, acting as bait for the next one to jump into the pile preparing for the inevitable feast.
This was bad, and everyone knew it. The chanting and panting and hissing was right outside of the closed door, and we all knew that the event would not end any time soon. I was unsure of how efficiently the contaminated were able to use doors with handles or knobs, but these swinging doors had a simple push to open mechanism on the contaminated side, something that they could accidentally open.
Another eruption came from the opposite side of the door. Another kill. This time the feasting grew more violent. Some of the smaller contaminated must have gone for a bite to eat against the will of a larger one, thusly resulting in the smaller contaminated’s death and continual feasting. The roaring coming from the other side of the doors was so loud that the smaller pieces in the door mechanism began to vibrate lightly. Something was smashing against the walls and floors as the feeding continued. More contaminated must have jumped in, hoping for a piece of the feed.
I was amazed at how desperate this group of contaminated was. Back in town, it was a much more organized group of the monsters, feeding in a certain order in compliance with their unwritten rules. This brand of contaminated were nothing of the organized sort. As far as my hearing could tell, there had been no successful attempt at a clean feeding by any of the contaminated, as they were ripped to pieces whenever one made a move.
Zach’s back was against the door when the third outbreak occurred. He dropped his bat and looked to me, holding the door back with all of his might. The thick but light door kept popping open and closed with the weight and forceful movement applied on each side. I quickly rushed over and pushed against the door, forcing it closed. Fortunately, none of the contaminated pushed back after the scuffle was over.
“We have to get out of here,” Zach whispered to me. His quiet voice was barely audible through the hissing and violent roaring coming from the opposite side
