“It isn’t your fault Kaatje,” I said softly. “Black came to us, he was already down there.” I pulled her in, holding her close as she cried quietly into my shoulder.
We arrived at the zone just as the sun was beginning to set, casting a red glow across the evening sky. My friend the ex-soldier let us in and strode over to me, a questioning expression on his lined face. I held up my hand, not wanting to get into it with Kaatje still in earshot.
I took her hand and led her into a vacant tent nearby. She looked exhausted, her skin pale and eyes swollen. I wrapped her up in a rough blanket and sat by her until her breath grew heavy, sleep taking her. I wanted more than anything to lie down next to her and close my own weary eyes, but I had to make my report.
I stood up on aching legs and made my way back outside, pulling up a seat next to my friend. I retold the whole story, from my journey to the well and our capture to our escape and eventual return.
He listened closely, and when I had finished he smiled, patting me on the back. “Good job, son,” he said, his gravelly voice suiting his creased features perfectly.
It occurred to me that I had never spoken at length with this man before, opting usually for a quick nod or wave when passing through the gate. I sat with him and enjoyed a few games of cards, during which I learned his name was John. He told me the water situation had worsened. He said he had resorted to placing buckets, pans and all manner of water catching devices around the zone, hoping to catch something should it rain. I helped John place a few more before finally bidding him goodnight and retreating to my spot next to Kaatje in the tent.
A gush of cold water brought me spluttering back to the present, my makeshift roof having collapsed under the weight of the rain. Wiping the water from my eyes I took up my things and set off.
This run had been unusually quiet. I had agreed to go out and check on the well, to see if anything could be salvaged after the explosion. Upon arrival, it was clear the blast had done more damage than any of us expected, the entire of the town square having sunk inwards. From my vantage point I could see dead roaming around near City Hall, but no sign of any other activity.
I kept cautious while picking my way through the area, taking every corner slowly, expecting an attack from the shadows. None came and I found myself making good time as the day wore on, even deciding to check the surrounding ruins for anything useful.
The storm hit as I was walking back to the zone, heavy rain lashed my face and cold wind pierced my shirt. With the evening quickly turningto night I ran down a tight alley and took shelter, stringing up a large piece of old tent I had stuffed into my new pack.
It was surprisingly cozy and I dozed off soon after dark. Now the storm had settled, leaving a steady drizzle and a sweet-smelling fog hanging low over the rooftops. I followed the road home, staring at my feet and allowing my mind to once again wonder, this time about Kaatje.
Her beautiful smile and big eyes materialized in my subconscious and I felt a warmth run deep within me, bracing me against the cool morning breeze. I heaved a sigh and immediately coughed. Looking up I saw the walls of my zone emerging through the fog, now black and thick with smoke.
I ran towards the open gate, a lump clawing its way into my throat. Burning embers swirled around me, singeing my clothes and leaving small burns on my skin. I barely took notice as I burst through the gate.
The scene was chaos, with people frantically trying to salvage things from the fire. One of the people swung at me with a pitchfork, catching me in the gut with the blunt staff.
My eyes watered and stung while the man geared up for another attack. “Leave him!” a voice bellowed. I could make out someone pouring water from a bucket up ahead.
“Grab something and help me put out these flames!” John shouted, gesturing at a fire breaking out in the guard area. I approached him, shielding my face from the heat.
“Where is Kaatje?” I shouted, dread filling my stomach. “She headed up to the apartment building with a group of refugees, talking about getting them to safety.”
I was already tearing away up the street, leaving him to protest to the wind. There was only one block of flats in the area, marked out as a safe zone long before I was born. I ran as fast as I could, cutting through alleyways where possible.
Scenes of devastation lay before me at every turn, civilians and bandits lay dead or dying, some even beginning to reanimate. I ignored it all, the burning buildings, the blood-soaked streets, even the cries of lost children. The world I once knew sped past me in a blur as I closed in on my goal.
My destination came into view, an old apartment building, dilapidated and abandoned, distinguishable only by the tattered sign that hung from its roof. It used to read ‘HELP’ before a storm ripped away the ‘P’ and was a preoutbreak relic remaining in this zone.
I sprinted towards it, navigating a slalom of rusted cars, my legs burning and sweat pouring down my face. I reached the front gate and bolted through and took the stairs two at a time. Reaching the top, I pressed myself against the wall, my lungs aching for air. My hands shook as I drew my knife, the sense of dread becoming even harder to ignore. The big glass doors hung slack on their hinges and I entered the lobby, a white-knuckled grip on my weapon.
There she was.
She hung from the nails in her hands, naked and blood-soaked. One leg was broken, a shard of bone protruding from her thigh. Other women lay in pools of fresh blood all around her. I rushed over to her, tears falling from my eyes, my whole body numb from the claws of ice clutching my heart.
I raised my hand to her face and jumped back as her head lurched forward, white eyes wide under her matted hair; teeth bared and spit falling onto her pale skin. I dropped to my knees in front of her, my knife clattering by my side.
I looked up into her once beautiful features, now twisted by bloodlust and hunger. Her body jerked, striving to be free of the nails holding her. A shadow moved to my left, and her attention diverted, her eyes facing somebody else.
Laughter, deep and vengeful laughter, crawled up my spine and into my ears. A hand grasped my hair and pulled, yanking me to my feet. I stood looking into the singular eye of a heavily built man, his thin mouth curved in a sick smile.
A knife hilt hung around his neck.
My knife hilt.
I looked back to the floor, seeing the stiletto laying there gleaming in the light of the flames outside. Looking back up into his face I could make out a scar protruding from behind a leather eye patch and my stomach flipped. I had stuck my old blade into the eye of this man on the day I met Kaatje, and now he had reaped his revenge on her.
I forced myself to look at her, hanging and snarling at the two potential meals stood before her. I took a step towards her and another. I could sense the bandit growing concerned.
A further step and I was almost nose to nose with Kaatje. “Oi!” the bandit shouted, “Get back over here!”
I ignored him; continuing to stare into Kaatje’s shining white eyes and letting all else fade from my mind.
I moved forward and embraced her.
The pain was instant, her teeth ripping excitedly into my shoulder. The bandit shouted something but the pain ringing within me blocked out his words. I held on tight while Kaatje tore the skin from my bones. Blood spattered my face and ran down over my chest, pooling where our two bodies met. I felt my strength fade as the life drained from me.
I fell to the floor and watched with clouded vision as the bandit stepped over me, driving his knife into the head of Kaatje. I tried to scream but the overwhelming darkness gripped my mind.