Fifty-eight. Fifty-nine.
The sound of the contaminated had stopped. I suddenly second guessed myself. Was I off? What if my poor counting lead to our deaths? I was just about to back away from the door when Chelsea’s hand rested on my own atop the door handle.
Sixty-one. Sixty-two.
My body tensed. Only one second left before I met my potential doom. I felt my mouth go dry and my fingers began to slip on the door handle from the sweat. Was I going to slip on the handle and give away our position? No I couldn’t. I – no we could not afford to mess this up. This was it. There was no going back. I looked to Chelsea.
Sixty-three.
Chelsea nodded and we both pushed down on the handle, ripping the door back in the process. Not bothering to look to our right, we bolted to the left side, the rotation of the contaminated approaching us. It took them a few seconds to register what was happening. Fresh meat was basically running directly at the contaminated who could not decide whether to wait for it to run directly into their mouths or go and get it. Fortunately for us, the contaminated were split on the issue.
Two of the contaminated broke off of the pack almost immediately and sprinted towards us. Chelsea was in front of me, “Mine!” she yelled to me.
Zach suddenly appeared at my side, “Mine to the right!” he called the contaminated. “Daryl, cars!” he yelled as he shot passed me with surprising speed.
Chelsea came to a sliding stop, aluminum bat in hand. Her feet were planted and her arms raised. The weight of Chelsea’s body shifted with the force of her hips as the bat came whipping around her body. The aluminum rang out, colliding with the head of the contaminated with an explosion of head matter and ripples of blood.
Zach was at the next contaminated shortly after. He chose an over the head approach as he leapt about two feet into the air, bat raised directly over his head. The aluminum came crashing down on the contaminated’s head but was deflected along the skull and onto the left shoulder. The force of the impact easily crushed the contaminated’s shoulder bones and sent it crashing to the ground, though still alive.
Not waiting to see the result, I flew past them and onto the stairs. I took them three at a time, and running on a decline made that very dangerous. My body carried me the entire way, legs jumping to every third stair, and never failing to regain balance. Before I knew it, I was at the bottom of the lifeless escalator, the two vehicles directly in front of me. I ripped open the door of the green sedan and turned the key in the ignition, the vehicle coming to an immediate start. I then made my way over to Zach’s silver car and turned the key. It didn’t start. Please don’t be like in the horror movies, I thought as the sound of hissing contaminated made its way closer.
I looked up to see Zach and Chelsea moving down the stairs as fast as their bodies would carry them, contaminated making their way to the platform at the top of the escalator. I forced my eyes away from the scene and tried the ignition again. Nothing. My hands fumbled around the car. The lights were off. Not a dead battery. The emergency brake was on, but that would not prevent the car from starting. Maybe Zach’s car had a busted starter. I tried the key again out of wishful thinking but still nothing.
Zach and Chelsea were more than half way down the escalator now, but the contaminated were nowhere to be seen yet the hissing was louder. “STAIRS!” Zach yelled, looking back. “They can’t handle the stairs! Falling!” he said through shortened breaths. Then I saw it. The contaminated were literally falling down the immobile escalator. They were able to handle the incline of going up stairs, but apparently the parasite virus was unable to move the bodies in a way that compensated for downward movement.
They were almost at the bottom of the escalator when I tried the ignition again. Still nothing. My eyes wandered from the lights to the emergency brake to the shifter back to the escalator. Suddenly I realized what I was missing. I put my full body into the car and placed my foot on the brake and my hand on the shifter. I pushed the silvery side button and slid the shifter into the park position. I turned the key and the car started right up, engine humming nicely.
I pulled myself out of the car just as Chelsea sat herself into the green sedan and Zach was in front of me, “Put it in park next time!” I said as he jumped into the driver seat. I placed myself in the green sedan passenger seat. Zach was already screeching away in his own getaway car. Before I even had time to close the door, Chelsea was already tearing the car into reverse, tires burning against the asphalt. The smell of melted rubber rose to my nose as Chelsea put the car into drive and sped after Zach.
Both cars were silent while we made our way away from the stadium, angry hoards of contaminated now appearing outside of the stadium gates, frustrated that they let a fresh meal slip through their grasp. Once we were on the highway for a few minutes, Zach’s voice came through the walkie talkie, “My bad. I’ll put it in park next time.”
“Please do,” I replied. There was a silence for a moment, only the sound of the engines churning breaking the quiet.
Chelsea grabbed the radio from me, “No more detours,” she said with the radio on so that everyone could hear.
