"Please head to the tip top. I'll meet you three there momentarily." says the young man in a shaky but pleasant tone. He runs back down toward the speak floor perhaps intending to save more people. The mobsters are leading me now and I'm grateful. This staircase is pitch black save for the dim light at the very top. They are walking slowly with their guns drawn. It's obvious that they're scared but they're doing a stellar job at masking it. I hold onto Tommy's coat.
"It's alright Ma'am, you're with us now." he says to me staring back. It's relieving but as I walk up the stairs slowly all I can think about is my friends. Did Marty cause all of this? Why did Tara attack me? How about Benson? Dear God how I hope he hasn't suffered the same fate as the Malcolms. I begin to cry from my thoughts.
"Well, I tried." says Tommy misinterpreting my cries. We're at the fourth floor now and still making our way to the top. There's stomping coming from the bottom of the staircase. I run upward past the mobsters in fear. They draw their guns and call out to the person coming up.
"Aye, take it easy. It's me Sal." says the man.
"We don't know a Sal." says West.
"And I don't know anyone who would wanna shoot me." returns the man coming closer. I can barely make out his face but his arms are raised and he's got a weapon in one hand.
"Drop the heater." West says.
"Yeah, as soon as you two do the same."
It's a deadlock and the four of us are standing in the staircase waiting for someone to budge. I could care less about the attitudes going on right now. If the man wanted to kill us he's have done so without starting a conversation. I continue up the stairs and alleviate the tension. The men drop their guns and follow my silhouette. It doesn't appear as though anyone is occupying any of the floors. It's calming but definitely eerie.
We're at the sixth floor now which is where the stairs stop. West takes the lead, I graciously appreciate the act. He directs the other two to draw their weapons and prepare for anything that may come out. I brace myself and retreat to the corner. The three gun wielding men are breathing heavy. West throws the door open and the men push forward. Nothing.
****
CHAPTER FOUR
Strangers
I'm beyond curious about a number of things but it serves me no benefit since I can't do anything to find my answers. I'm stuck in a room with two mobsters, and a man with a weapon that looks equally intimidating. They spread out into the apartment and open any lights available. I sit on the couch nearby and bury my face in my palms. The night that had garnered so many good memories has been washed out by a slew of disgusting imagery. I'm in a nightmare.
The front door swings open and the mobsters rush back into the room guns drawn. In comes the man who directed us to the top. He turns and ushers another couple people into the room. We spread out and inspect one another head-to-toe. Everyone checks out and we breathe a slow sigh of relief.
"So what's your plan buddy?" says Sal. The young man looks at his feet and begins pacing. "Hey, I'm talking to you."
"There's no plan." he says quietly.
"Come again?"
"Sir, there's no plan."
"Then why are we here? Why did you take us up here?" says the woman he brought with him.
"We…we…we needed to get to a safer place. This is safer than down there. I thought it would help to be higher." says the young man.
"Great, now we're sitting ducks." the second person who enters says.
"Hey, we were all over the place down there. This fella helped us out. All of us. Show some thanks why don't ya?" says West approaching the man. He reaches his hand out for a shake. "What's your name pal."
"Louis, Sir."
"Well from all the lug heads in this room- thanks Louis."
The young man smiles and the anger throughout the room is wiped away. We tread softly after Louis announces that there were still a few attackers on the ground floor before he fled to the top. Sal and the mobsters wedge the couch onto the door in hopes of keeping it shut while we collect ourselves. The entire group takes a trip to the window devoid of expectations. The view outside can be any number of things. Unfortunately for us, it's the most heinous. There's bodies peppered on the street while others run rampant. There's a chaotic tone spread out and screams fill the air. I watch as the bodies on the street rise to their feet and join in the marathon. The strangers inside this apartment take a moment to stare at one another. Getting help is going to be a long shot but we have no choice. We can try to wait it out here or take our chances out there. As I watch a woman run from the corner only to be ripped to the ground by three attackers the choice becomes crystal clear.
We wait and hope.
****
* NOTE
The short story above is a spin-off of a larger tale. If you enjoyed the short then please consider reading more about the fate of Emma in Guns, Booze & Zombies written by the same author.
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