Kidacki. Images of fuzzball puppies morphed into ravenous dogs trying to kill him. Even the blissful sanctuary of his early-morning jogs rapidly deteriorated into thoughts of Fade and angry foliage seeking payback. He shook his head in irritation. Had he always been this bad at finding happy things to think about? How had Ayden handled seeing the Skias all around him on his own? Poor little Bug. Link chided himself for leaving him behind. What if he'd made the wrong decision?
Another chill swept over his skin, pulling out goose bumps in its wake. Careful not to press the release on the pepper spray, he vigorously rubbed his arms. This hallway was insanely cold. What was this place, the cryogenics wing? At least it wasn't raining. Now that would be miserable.
He smiled despite his mounting sense of dread. One point for the new-and-improved, positive Link. Now, if only this never-ending corridor would just end already.
Without warning, the building's emergency sprinkler system switched on, raining all over his newly discovered optimism. Link looked up. "Typical. Why am I not surprised?"
"Shhh," Max hissed. Somehow his face looked even scarier bathed in the sickly green of the light sticks. But it didn't prevent Link from moving closer to him. He knew it was undignified to be huddling up against the old man, but at this point, he could not have cared less.
Water streamed down Link's face and soaked his clothes. His shoes had begun making an odd squishing sound that reminded him of an angry duck. And all those stupid attempts at positive thinking had only succeeded in making him hungry fir cookies.
He hadn't known what to expect from his future as a Chosen, but sloshing through an empty hallway having to suppress a girlish squeal at every unfamiliar noise hardly struck him as the definition of a hero.
Max pushed his way down the hall then veered right. Thank heavens somebody knew what they were doing. At last, the bright red glow of an exit sign cut into the sea of green around them like a cherry bobber in a polluted lake.
By Link's count, there were only four more doors to pass before they would reach the safety of the stairs. Well, not safety exactly. But they would definitely be safer there than they were huddled in the middle of the hallway.
On the other hand, if the Broken were hiding, they would probably be doing so behind the last door, not the first. If Hollywood was any indication of reality, he knew exactly what would happen. First, everyone would believe the coast was clear. Then one of the less important characters would say something like, "I think we're going to make it."
Only then would legions of undead spill into the hallway to prevent any hope of escape. Though Link knew he was being ridiculous, it didn't stop him from nearly strangling the pepper spray in his hand.
After what felt like an eternity, they reached the last door. Max took hold of the handle.
"Looks like there was nobody home," Tom said.
Max snapped two more light sticks. He tossed one of them a flight up and the other a flight down.
Link spun around to face the hallway, expecting to find...well, he wasn't sure what he'd find. But he knew it wouldn't be good.
"What are you waiting for? Did you drop an earring?" Tom teased.
Link was so relieved to finally be wrong that he wasn't even insulted by Tom's quip. Maybe they would make it after all.
But no sooner had he turned back to follow Max than, he heard the eerie sound of laughter. It echoed down the hallway they had just traveled, and a door creaked open about ten feet away.
Tom's smirk vanished. Link tensed and prepared for the worst. All three peered out of the stairwell into the darkness beyond. After a few seconds had passed and nothing had happened, they all headed up to the thirteenth floor.
"Happy thoughts," Link kept repeating to himself. "Just think happy thoughts."
54
Time to Run
By the time they reached the next floor, the lights had been restored. The sprinklers had stopped as well, not that it mattered by this point. Link could not have been any wetter if he had just exited a pool.
If they were lucky, Panch's room would be the first door on the right once they exited the stairs. That way they could probably nip out of the stairwell and into his room without anyone seeing them. Link crossed his fingers and waited patiently behind Max, who slowly opened the stairwell door.
"Hmmm. I was afraid of that," Max muttered. He raised his gun. "Looks like we have a ways to go." He looked back at Link and Tom. "We'll need to pick up the pace. You two need to keep up."
Without another word, Max began running down the hall. This had "bad idea" written all over it, but Link wasn't about to fall behind. He sprinted to catch up to Tom, who was already a few steps ahead of him. Link spotted one of the room numbers as they ran by: 1302B. Clearly, if he ever made it out of this wretched building alive, it was not going to be because of good luck.
To Link's surprise, the addition of lights had done little to alleviate the overall creepiness of the empty hallways. Why would Panch be on an empty floor? It didn't make sense. None of this did. And yet, Link knew that 1317 had to be the right room. It just had to be.
They arrived at the elevators in a matter of seconds. Link silently enjoyed watching Tom struggle to catch his breath. His morning runs had been good for something, it seemed.
A large whiteboard rested on a stand next to the nurse's station for the room numbers and patients' names to be written in large block letters. Link might have taken this as a stroke of good fortune had it not been for one peculiar fact. "Why is Panch's name the only one listed? All I see is Frances Henderson. Shouldn't there be other patients?"
Max's grip tightened on his knife. "I told you they'd be expecting us." He placed the blade into his mouth then walked over to the sign and removed it from the stand. "Find a weapon."
"Like what?" Tom said.
Max brought his foot down on the aluminum tripod that held the whiteboard and broke off one of the legs in an impressive stomp. "Here," he said, tossing it to Link. "Ever play baseball? Just remember to aim for the head."
"Tom, go get?"
Max's words were interrupted by the high-pitched ding of the elevator. The group spun as the steel doors began to slide open. Max raised his gun level with the opening. Link lifted the base of the broken tripod leg up to his shoulders. Tom continued franticly scouring the nurse's station for anything he could use as a weapon.
To everyone's surprise and great relief, it was Roland who staggered out of the elevator. His pants were ripped and blackened and appeared to have been singed around the edges. There was a large gash across his forehead. Rivulets of blood dripped down his face and onto his shirt. "They're coming," he gasped. "We need to hurry."
"Tom, grab Roland's shoulder. Link, walk beside him and give him support!" Max yelled. "We need to get to Panch's room now!"
Together, Tom and Link helped Roland maintain his footing as they ran down the hall after Max. Then they fell into line behind Max, who appeared to be more anxious than ever to reach Panch's room. They had only passed two rooms before they heard the elevator ding once again.
A blurred chaos of simultaneous events followed. The doors to the rooms they had already passed, along with several more in front of them, crashed open. Mobs of mangled corpses spilled into the hall. A shadow, dark and menacing, exited the elevator. The hallway lights switched off, plunging everything into a deep shade of pitch as the anguished wails of the Broken slowly surrounded them.
Still propping up Roland, Link readied himself to swing the tripod. But with no light he was afraid he might hit one of his friends by mistake.
"Hold your position, men!" Max commanded, as he sent light sticks sailing into both directions. The Broken appeared not to notice. Barely visible, their shadowy limbs twisted to unnatural angles as they staggered forward.
Link watched, breathless, as the horde approached.
Though the Broken's movements were slow and awkward, Link could make out twisted faces that had once been human. Patches of flesh stretched across their sk
ulls like shredded bed sheets.
Link noticed one of Broken hesitate, followed by a few more. Though he had no idea what had made them stop, clearly, something had scared them. Roland's arms began weaving in and out of the air in a strange blur of glittering patterns. The motions had a sort of rhythmic ripple that bent the air around them like a fish stirring water.
By now, all the Broken had stopped in anticipation of what Roland would do next. Without warning, vivid currents of red and blue flame crackled to life. Brilliant waves of pulsating light enveloped Roland's hands and began to grow larger by the second. It was beautiful.
A terrible voice, unlike any Link had ever heard began to rage from somewhere deep inside the bowels of the elevator shaft. "Kill them!" it screamed. "Kill them!"
Immediately, the horde overcame their fear and closed in for the kill. As they did, several explosions of light ripped apart the air. Rocket shots of basketball-sized fireballs ruptured the first wave of attackers, turning them to ash.
As Roland recharged, Max took over, unleashing a hailstorm of bullets ? every one through the eye of another enemy and each shot quicker than the last. With systematic efficiency, they changed over again and again while slowly backing down the hallway. Link grew dizzy just trying to stay out of their way. But no matter how many they destroyed, there were always more to take their place.
The gunshots stopped, and Link spun to see Max throw a gun onto a heap