Jason Morrow - Anywhere but Here

“Now,” Gabe says, “I want us to clear all of the buildings, but our main target is the one on the far left.”

I narrow my eyes, trying to see the words on the window front. It’s the sheriff’s office. “Weapons?” I ask.

Gabe nods. “I want to get there first, so if we don’t get a chance to clear out the other buildings at least we’ll have some extra guns.”

“Unless someone got here before us, right?” I ask.

Gabe looks at me and shrugs. “Let’s go,” he says.

Skip and Gabe begin walking down the street toward the sheriff’s office while Paxton, Mendez, and I follow a few paces behind. All of us keep our eyes peeled for any sign of movement. Though we clutch tightly to our guns, we will only use them if necessary. A lone greyskin? Someone distracts it while someone else drives a knife into its brain. Two greyskins? Same story. Three or more? It might be time to use the guns.

I look at the first building to our left and try to focus on the sounds within. The shuffling of feet. Something light, maybe paper, falls to the ground. Something moves about quietly. My heightened hearing ability can’t always make out the exact type of creature lurking in the shadows, but a greyskin has a distinct sound. It is clumsy, and when it gets excited, it begins to gurgle and almost growl like a phlegmy cat hissing at a stranger — only it’s not out of fear, but hunger.

The way the feet move, I can tell its a greyskin. The footsteps are heavy, so it’s not an animal, and it’s not so self aware that it’s careful. We pass the building, and the creature doesn’t seem to notice us through the windows.

I look at the Post Office and hear one or two of them shuffling around. Then, the sheriff’s office. Again, I can barely hear any movement at all, but there is definitely something in there. My grip tightens on my gun as we move forward, now only a hundred feet away. I catch Paxton staring at me, his eyebrows furrowed. It looks as though he can tell that I have a determined focus — unnatural perhaps. I want to tell him that he should stop staring at me and get on with his own determined focus, but I hold my tongue and keep my eyes forward.

Once at the sheriff’s office, Gabe crouches in front of the front door and feels the handle. It’s not locked, so all we have to do is go in and take it over. There will surely be keys to a gun closet or something in there. Gabe looks at each of us and we nod to him, letting him know we are ready, though I’m not so sure that I am. It’s been too long since I’ve killed a greyskin. I’m not sure I’ve still got my edge. Living in the comfort of Crestwood could do that to a person, I’m sure.

Gabe tugs on the door handle too loudly. I wince as the sound of creaking hinges echoes through the hallways of the sheriff’s office. I immediately hear a few greyskins come out of a stupor as they begin moving toward the entrance. They are out of sight and earshot for the others but I can hear them clearly. Their throaty moans escape their mouths as they stumble forward. Gabe and Skip stay low as they tiptoe down the hallway. The greyskins are coming closer. Gabe pulls out a knife and gets it ready for whatever might be coming around the corner. What he doesn’t know is that it will be more than one. Maybe four? Five?

“Gabe,” I whisper.

He holds up a hand to me, able to hear at least one of them now.

“Gabe,” I repeat.

He turns his head to me, his face turning red. “What?” he says harshly.

“There’s more than one. Maybe five,” I say.

“How do you know?”

I don’t have time to answer as the first of them appears around the corner and Gabe’s back is turned. Skip is ready, however, and he jabs his knife up under the greyskin’s chin, piercing its brain. Darkened blood spurts out as it falls to the ground harmlessly. Gabe jets out into the open beyond the corner and is immediately met by two more greyskins. He’s able to stab the first one through the head, but the second one lands on top of him, doing it’s best to take a bite from his forearm.

He can’t help but yell out. Skip would help him but there are two more greyskins closing in on him. A knife is useless to us in here. I lift up my gun and take aim at the greyskin on top of Gabe. With a pull of the trigger, it’s brains splatter against the wall across from him. He throws the body off and jumps to one that’s on top of Skip. Paxton lets off a round and so does Mendez, but neither of the greyskins go down.

Finally, Skip is able to stab one of them through the temple but not before the other one takes a deep bite into his shoulder. He lets out a bellowing scream as his own blood pours down his side. Gabe reaches out and stabs the greyskin in the head but it is too late. With five greyskins on the floor around us, Skip bleeds heavily, destined to become one himself.

Gabe spits on the ground and lets out a curse as Skip whimpers.

“I’m dead,” Skip says over and over. “I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead.”

“We need to get what we came for and get out of here,” Mendez says “Others will have heard the shots.”

Paxton remains nervously silent as if he’s waiting for Gabe to give the orders.

My ears perk at the sound of more greyskins shuffling through the sheriff’s office. I step past all of them, trying to let the cries of Skip fall to the background, but when I walk around the corner, I don’t need super hearing to know that at least ten more greyskins are coming straight for us.

“More!” I yell out, letting off round after round. I’m usually a good shot, but I miss twice in my killing spree, though I send three of them to the ground. “Go back! Get out!” I shoot two more to the ground.

“Go on without me!” Skip yells out. “I’ll hold them off.” He stands, holds up his gun and unloads on the others, infected blood still dripping down his shoulder.

Paxton is the first one out of the sheriff’s office with Mendez close behind him. I make for the door and turn back to see Gabe standing next to Skip, firing away.

“Gabe,” I call out, “we have to get back to the car!”

“I’ll be there in a sec,” he says over his shoulder, a greyskin coming at him too close for comfort.

I hate leaving them in there, but I can hear more greyskins outside. I burst through the door only to hear Paxton yell out “that way!” with a subsequent gunshot from Mendez. Glass shatters as greyskins break through the windows, charging after the gun blasts as though they are a call for dinner.

I take aim at one and pull the trigger, but all that comes is a click. I curse as I throw my backpack and duffel bag to the ground. I reach into the side pocket and start loading the gun. I’m distracted by the number of greyskins all around us, scraping to exit the five buildings. I can’t imagine why there were so many in each of these.

The greyskins start pouring into the streets. One of them sets its eyes on me as I fumble to load my gun. Bullets clank to the ground as I drop them nervously. I can hear its guttural moan. Its grayish skin seems to be falling off its face, its clothes in tatters, its teeth chomping at me as though it can already taste my blood. The bullets are finally in and the greyskin is almost on top of me. I fire it once and the bullet shoots through its neck. No good. I shoot again and this time the bullet goes through the middle of its forehead and it falls to the ground only a foot in front of me. There have to be at least thirty greyskins in the street and now more have trained their eyes on me.

I look ahead to see Paxton and Mendez sprinting for the SUV. They aren’t about to take it and run, are they? I fire a round, a greyskin falls. I shoot again, another falls. But I know I don’t have thirty bullets left. Like an answer to a prayer, Gabe crashes through the door of the sheriff’s office, helping Skip walk with him. When they get near me, Gabe fires into the crowd of greyskins and Skip falls to his knees next to me.