He never knew whether that was his Christian or surname. In school, care homes in fact where ever he was addressed as Kyle. Even the foster parents that he had lived with for the last ten years had called him by that single name. These weren’t just carers – they had taken him under their wing and made him their ‘son’. He should have left them when he turned eighteen but mum and dad were reluctant to let go. They had been a unit until the plague had struck them down both dying within hours of each other. Death did not separate them Kyle saw to that as he helped his dad to lie next to his dead wife.
Trapped, as he was, inside the hospital he had learned to find his way around.
Armed with a fire axe he slipped down a flight of stairs into the dark corridors where people did not go. Here were the store and maintenance rooms securely locked to keep members of the public out. Keypads and security codes were no longer useable as the generators had long ceased to function. The axe though was an access code in its own right to get him an entrance into the right place. With the aid of a torch he soon found what he was looking for.
Back in the sun’s glaring light, Kyle had to blink and shade his eyes before strolling down to the main gates. After unbolting the inner gates, he swung them wide before looking over his shoulder at the crowd and the heavy set man rose to his feet.
He was the first to draw level with Kyle who thrust a set of bolt cutters into the man’s hands.
“One key, mate,” he grinned, backing away. “Enjoy.”
Griggs hefted the tool in his hands but there was no gratitude in his eyes – only malice.
“You and I are going to have a little chat later,” Griggs promised.
“Might not get the result you expect,” Kyle grimaced.
“And your point is?”
“You don’t get to find out how the story ends,” Kyle supplied, easily, yet his eyes and his tone were icy. “You’re part in it will be over – simple as that.”
“We’ll see, kid, we’ll see,” Griggs promised as he turned his back to attack the lock on the gate.