Breathless City Read online

  Despite her dainty appearance, Stella was a match for anything out there. He frowned. Gavin had to learn how to deal with the infected to be of some use to her. Back at the factory, he could take down a full-grown bull, or track down and tranquilize a leopard. He just needed to adapt to life out here. He would remember the rules.

  Stella knelt before the front door, clenching her eyes shut for a moment, lost in thought. Next, her hand shot out to the bottom door latch, turning the lock. She pulled the door toward her, peering out into the street until she was satisfied that their path was clear. They walked through the door, shutting it behind them without a sound. Stella used the grime-coated shirts from the day before to wipe the door down. To hide their smell.

  The streets had a different look to them, now that Gavin was aware of exactly the kind of creatures that lived within. As he followed Stella down the streets, he was wary of each of his footfalls. He carefully stepped around the bits of debris, trying to watch everything at once. He tried to step silently around soda cans and plastic heaps, not sure how to avoid noise. All the while, he was attempting to look about him, keeping in mind every single one of those signs of the infected. He tried to recall word for word Stella’s warnings about the infected. Look around and be aware of everything that could be used as a weapon. Look for places with door handles; the infected couldn’t figure out how to use them. Get far away from anything made of broken glass. Don’t go into the sensor of those sliding doors. Don’t step on that garbage. Don’t make a noise.

  Stella was quietly observing the way he tried and failed to watch everything. Calmly, Stella slowed her pace to match his own. She slipped her fingers around his, squeezing them reassuringly.

  They walked hand in hand one block away from the Dunkin’ Donuts, and Gavin estimated that it would only take them ten minutes to go back to the bridge from here. They could do that easily enough if there was nothing chasing them. They crossed another street, and then a few blocks more, each step taking them farther away from relative safety. Gavin watched Stella for clues. Stella just strode with a naturally silent step. She moved confidently, without looking every which way like he had.

  What did she think of him? Yes, she was holding his hand, and she had gone out of her way to save his life, but what if that was something she would do for anybody?

  Stella broke the silence, startling him. “We have to be quiet, but we don’t have to be silent right now,” Stella spoke in such a low voice that Gavin had to strain to hear her. “They hunted well last night. We were lucky the herd was here. So most of them should be asleep.”

  Gavin didn’t trust himself to reply. What if he couldn’t speak softly enough?

  Stella didn’t seem to mind his silence. After a pause, she let him in on her plan. “I know a place that should have what we’re looking for. We can try there first.”

  This place ended up being a small restaurant with a sleek black awning still labeled as “Carmines”. At first glance, the building looked similar to its neighbors, until Gavin noticed the reinforced glass windows and the old-fashioned round doorknobs that would cause the infected some trouble.

  Stella twisted the doorknob and pushed the heavy brass door forward. Like many of the other buildings in the area, the renewable resources still functioned, and the room still had electricity. However, the restaurant sought a romantic atmosphere with dim light. The silver candelabras had long gone out, leaving behind melted remains. Most of the lighting came from a chandelier, with its pen shell shades casting the room in honey-colored hues.

  In the limited visibility, Gavin could make out tables covered in burgundy cloths. On those tables lay porcelain plates and crystal wine glasses, undisturbed for the last decade and a half. Some plates were covered with the residue of food that had long since rotted away.

  Besides some broken glasses and overturned chairs, the restaurant seemed peaceful. It reminded Gavin of pictures of the old days he had seen, with men in suits enjoying fine dining with women in cocktail dresses. It was a strange testament that the world was once normal.

  Gavin followed Stella across the dining area and to the back, where she pushed her way through swinging double doors. The room was filled with stainless steel appliances. Buzzing fluorescent lights shone off the clean chrome blenders, mixers, toasters, and coffee pots. There was a huge sink stacked with dirty dishes and metal trays that were never going to be washed. They walked by the rows of stoves, passing through the kitchen without a second glance. Stella headed for a wooden door, which looked out of place surrounded by all the metal. She placed her palm flat on the door and pushed it open cautiously, revealing a narrow stairway.

  The wooden staircase was layered with a thick coating of dust. Stella reached one hand out to each side of the brick walls to brace herself as she carefully lowered one foot to the first step. Despite the care she took, the staircase let out an aching squeak. They froze at the sound. Waiting. But nothing reacted to the noise. It seemed that they were clear for the moment. Stella placed her fingers against the brick wall, locking into the hollow of the mortar, her arms taking most of her weight.

  Again, Gavin watched as Stella eased her foot onto the rickety wooden staircase. The aged wood responded with a softer creak, like a sigh. Stella let go of her hold on the wall, reaching lower. Bracing herself against the crumbling brick walls, she maneuvered her way down.

  Gavin heard another faint creak farther down the stairs as Stella moved on.

  He hesitated by the wall, holding the door open to provide the room with a source of light; the incandescent bulb hanging above the stairwell had burnt out long ago. He wondered whether he should stay or follow. He doubted the wood would be able to support his weight, but Stella had trudged along, getting further and further away, almost disappearing into the dark. There was no way he was going to let her go off alone. Once Stella was more than halfway down the staircase, Gavin took one step deeper into the room. He let the light source shut off behind them, casting them into darkness. From an inner pocket, he pulled out a high-powered light-emitting diode and clicked it on. It let out a focused ring of light directly in front of him, casting a halo around Stella.

  Gavin followed Stella, ignoring the wooden stairway completely. Instead, he braced his hands and feet on each side of the wall, shimmying his way down, holding his body just above the staircase without ever touching the wood.

  Stella reached the bottom before him, out of the range of Gavin’s light. Gavin was alone with just a tiny circle of visibility in the darkness. He could do better than this. Gavin swung forward, shooting down the remaining steps, catching himself on the wall with just the small scrape of his hands against crumbling brick and mortar. He released his hold on the wall, stepping down to the basement floor.

  He was alone, with a small patch of light and darkness all around, in a place he didn’t know. Sweeping the light in an arc, he looked for Stella. It wasn’t as if he could call out her name and put them in danger. His limited light shone on the shelves of a pantry, mostly filled with boxes chewed through by rats.

  He couldn’t see her anywhere. Flashing his light in every direction showed nothing but the garbage-strewn shelves of the pantry.

  Panic flooded through him, breaking his concentration and his better judgment. Gavin shook his head. Stressing himself out looking for each and every sign of danger wasn’t helping.

  In fight or flight mode, blood pressure raised, he couldn’t think. All he could hear was the adrenaline pumping through his body, his heart drumming, and the oxygen pill ticking from deep within his chest.

  This nervous, he wasn’t a help to anyone at all.

  Gavin forced himself to close his eyes for a moment to listen, just listen. His mind automatically separated the noises that he knew were important from those that were not. He heard the hum of electricity, the idle ticking of something like a carbon monoxide alarm. In the distance there was the faint dripping of water. He also caught a sound that was familiar, like the gentle rush o
f the wind, except that it was too steady. Too regular. Almost like breathing.

  Gavin tensed all the muscles in his jaw and clenched his fists so tight he could feel his nails biting into skin. It was too loud to be an animal. Now that he had noticed the breaths, he couldn’t get them out of his mind. All the relaxation he had coaxed into his system was gone. He had to find Stella.

  He wasn’t used to sifting through noises, instead choosing to ignore them as much as possible in the factory. But he recognized the feeling of being hunted. Not all of the dangerous animals he worked with would react as soon as they knew you were there.

  Working with large predators, like the leopards and wolves, he developed a sense of when he was safe and when he was not. There was a subtle change in the air, a slight twist between the monotonous daily life and that realization that something was about to go terribly wrong. A bull would just charge at a threat, but then there were the more effective predators. The ones that watched, waiting until they had you right where they wanted you. Those were the encounters that usually ended up as close calls, or worse. Exactly what Gavin was facing now.

  Something didn’t feel right. The muscles in his legs tightened, ready to run. His grip was so tight, the ring of light trembled. Should he call out her name, even though it was against the rules? But then he heard a faint scrape, as if something was removed from a shelf. Gavin pinpointed the location in his mind and walked toward it.

  There she was. The tiny light was filled with her outline just a few feet away. She was standing in front of a shelf, examining cans. Gavin stepped toward her, a portion of his panic melting away. At the very least, he knew where she was. She was safe.

  Stella quirked her lips into a half smile as he approached. The smile on her face froze when she took in his expression. Her brow furrowed as her eyes darted across their surroundings. Gavin hoped he was wrong. Nothing was out there but his own paranoia.

  Her lovely violet eyes widened.

  As if compelled, without a choice in the world, Gavin pointed the light in the direction Stella was looking.

  Standing there was an infected. It was male, with long strands of greasy hair that grew all the way to its naked chest, half covering solid yellow eyes that directed their blind gaze straight at Stella. The quiet wheeze of air moved in and out of the infected’s open mouth.

  Gavin turned the light back on Stella, who glared at Gavin with a fierce look. She pointed straight ahead, back at the stairway, their only source of safety.

  It was an order. One that went against every fiber of his conscience. How could she expect him to back away from danger and to leave her here with it? There might be more of them waiting out in the dark.

  He wanted to argue, but he didn’t dare waste her time. Not now. Stella must have a plan. He stepped backward toward the stairway, keeping his eyes on Stella and the infected the entire time, ready to jump back and help at a moment’s notice. This was dangerous.

  Gavin recalled his first lesson about the infected. His brother’s words echoed in his mind. If they bite you, they will infect you. Toxins will surge through your blood until you become like them. Or until you die.

  No.

  Gavin couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let her come to harm. Not because of him.

  Bracing himself against the walls of the stairs, Gavin held the light with his teeth. He stepped down without taking his eyes off either the infected or Stella, listening to the soft creak of his foot against the stairs.

  Neither Stella nor the infected paid him any attention. Both stood frozen, their attention locked on one another.

  Once he was too high to keep the light pointed on them, Gavin paused, swallowing down the dry sensation in his throat. Stella had more experience with all of this; he had to trust her. Gavin eased himself up one more step, watching the light raise higher until he couldn’t see Stella or the infected at all.

  All he saw was the movement at the edge of the light when Stella ran farther into the pantry as the infected shrieked its hunting call and charged after her. Gavin took a step back down, turning the flashlight about, looking after them, but the two of them were already deeper in the darkness.

  Gavin hesitated. What if he made a bad situation worse? That indecision vanished when he heard the answering cry to the infected’s hunting call. More were joining in the hunt.

  Gavin thought back to the survival rules as he dashed up the stairs, not even caring if he made noise. First rule, know where to go. Gavin ran into the kitchen, squinting as the full fluorescent lights blinded him.

  Second rule, silent kills. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the light, Gavin searched for a weapon—a knife would be perfect. There had to be one somewhere. He opened up empty drawers and felt the pressure of the time slipping away. Any second could be Stella’s last. He grabbed a carbon-steel frying pan off a drying rack.

  Third rule, move quickly and get out fast. Gavin ran back toward the staircase and down the rickety old stairs.

  Holding the frying pan high in one hand, Gavin swerved the light through the pitch black with the other. He listened for her, hearing nothing. Gavin was painfully aware of every footstep, the rustle of his clothing as he moved. The lack of sounds from other living creatures. It was as if he was alone. What was he missing? What he was doing wrong?

  I’m thinking like the prey, not the predator.

  He was too nervous. Gavin clenched his grip on the frying pan, reassuring himself. Even though he’d never done this before, he had advantages that they did not. He had his vision, and his mental faculties.

  Gavin followed the direction he had seen Stella run. The infected might be hunters, but Gavin was no weakling either. He made his way further into the pantry, passing shelves stocked with what used to be ingredients for fine dining cuisine but were now the crumbling food of rats.

  It wasn’t long before he heard the sound of breathing again.

  This time the breaths were labored, like someone taking in air after chasing something. Gavin’s flashlight showed three of them. The first infected was joined by an elderly male who had white tufts of a beard darkened with food stains, and a shorter female who couldn’t keep still. Her outstretched fingers twitched like a cat flexing its claws.

  The three surrounded Stella, who was standing perfectly still. She broke her motionless stance, turning her head toward Gavin, her eyes wide with surprise. The male charged at Stella, who turned and leaped just as quickly. One of the infected’s fingernails snagged against the nylon of her backpack, locking on.

  Stella’s momentum caused her to lurch forward, dragging the infected right along with her. Automatically, she slipped off the backpack, putting space between her and the danger. As the creature tore into the bag, Stella got three steps away before she came to a jarring stop, her feet scraping to a halt against the concrete basement floor. She turned, staring at the infected male as he tore the nylon fabric of the backpack apart, spilling the contents onto the floor.

  The creature ripped into the bag, eating bagel and nylon fabric both. Now clear, Stella could make a run for it. They could regroup and try someplace new. But Stella wasn’t moving.

  What was she doing?

  Hands curling like talons were the only warning the female infected gave before it charged.

  Gavin intercepted, knocking it off balance before slamming the frying pan down hard on its forehead. It dropped to the ground, still.

  One down, two to go.

  The older infected tasted the air, tongue lolling, as sludge-like saliva trickled down into its beard. Its attention was fixed on Stella.

  Gavin raised his frying pan high and at the ready, freezing at the quick double bang of gunfire.

  She’d taken out the last two cleanly with bullets to the head. Their bodies collapsed to the ground as the reverberations of gunfire echoed in Gavin’s ear after the long silence of the basement cellar. A tremor ran down his spine and fear crawled up his sides. Stella had just broken her own rule. She had to have a goo
d reason for that.

  Rummaging through the tattered remains of her bag, Stella ignored the rounds of ammunition spilled across the floor, and she pushed two handguns off to the side. Gavin kept the light on the mess, hoping to help out. Her face was a picture of fierce determination illuminated in the gloom as she picked through the saliva-coated disorder. For the past two nights, she had lined up all the contents of the bag. What was in there that was so important? It wasn’t safe here.

  Then Gavin heard it—indistinct at first, but getting louder and more defined by the second. It took him a second to figure out what that dull pounding meant. He was listening to bare feet slapping against concrete.

  “Stella, do you hear that? We have to get out of here,” Gavin said quietly, searching for the source of the sound. The restaurant entranceway on the first floor was undisturbed; they had to have gotten in from the basement. If three infected had done it once, others could do it again. By the sound of it, those shots had woken up more of them. Many more.

  Gavin tore his eyes away from the footsteps echoing around in the darkness to look back at Stella. She was shifting through the items in the bag quickly now. She gave no signs of having heard either Gavin or the approaching footsteps.

  “Stella, we have to get out of here,” Gavin tried again. He had no idea what she was doing, but it didn’t matter. They were out of time. The footsteps were too clear now. They had let them get too close.

  With the experience of all the years working the hard jobs no one else wanted, everything from draining abscesses on skittish one-ton horses to taking down the 2,800-pound bulls for castration and rounding up the full-grown boars to slaughter and disembowel them, Gavin slipped behind Stella and grabbed her under the arms, yanking her away from the remnants of her bag.