Salt Rush: Lazarus City, #3

By Melisa Peterson Lewis

With winter over, no one is safe. The infected rise from hibernation, hungry for survivors. While across the bay, an enemy's army waits to strike.

 

Shelby creates a new life as a runner. With the freedom to move and the chance to reinvent herself, she pays the high price of leaving loved ones behind. Tangled in a web of allies and enemies, Shelby embarks on a risky journey to secure her future.

 

A secret shatters Dean. After broken promises and torn relationships, he ventures out on his own. His plan to lay low is derailed when he runs into his wife—someone he vowed to stay away from. Could Shelby ever understand the blood on his hands and what he's had to do for his people? If not, he'll lose her and his new alliance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melisa Peterson Lewis
• Release date: Jan 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215936191

Melisa Peterson Lewis

Melisa Peterson Lewis would absolutely not survive a zombie apocalypse, but there's nowhere she'd rather ride it out than Baltimore, where the Lazarus City series was born. Currently, Melisa lives in suburbia with her spunky kids, barky dogs, and patient husband. When she's not working her day job as a technical recruiter, she is writing or digging around in her garden.

Book preview

one

Shelby

Let’s go for a run

Stretch our limbs along the street

Grasping for the sun

This is where I belong. Not inside a hospital, looking death in the eye as the infected cry behind a plated glass window. I’m glad the trial is over, and I have the freedom to go where I want.

I was right all along. I am a runner.

A break in the late March clouds allows the sun to lighten our faces. Angela and I continue down the street, away from the shops and cobblestone. I’m dressed in black jeans and a dark maroon jacket. Runners wear black from head to toe, in order to differentiate ourselves from other survivors.

We follow the shoreline until we reach an area where there are no houses or restaurants. Ahead of us is Point Breeze. Before the infection, it was the largest shipyard on the East Coast. When the sidewalk ends, we follow cracked roadways, fatigued by trucks carrying heavy cargo from the harbor.

I slow beside Angela. This isn’t dangerous? My voice tips with more concern than intended.

Nah. We’ll be fine. If we see something suspicious, we’ll leave. The others aren’t far behind us.

Seagulls fly overhead, screaming at our intrusion. Ahead are tall gray, windowless buildings, of which I can only guess the purpose. Within the maze of conveyor belts, tanks, and structures that stretch into the sky, I feel small amongst the unknown.

Angela points to a gate. Beyond that area is one of the smaller ports. We’ll start there. She walks up to the gate and shakes the chain around it. Doesn’t look like anyone has been in or out. Let’s walk the perimeter and see what we can find. We want to be sure Fat Man’s people haven’t been inside.

I follow her lead and keep my eyes glued to our surroundings. I haven’t had any direct contact with Fat Man or his people, and I’d like to keep it that way, especially way out here.

As we walk along the outside of the chain-link fence, she unexpectedly brings up an unwelcome subject. Hey. I don’t mean to pry, but have you thought about trying to contact Dean again?

Dean never responded to my request to meet, but the letters we placed had been taken. Had he read them and decided I wasn’t worth it? Or did they simply blow away? I’ve walked by the aquarium during the day. The doors are locked as if it were abandoned. Kory says so many cameras have been damaged in the area that we had to stop placing them near the aquarium.

No, I haven’t given it much thought, I lie.

I’m going to suggest something crazy. Angela turns to look at me but keeps us moving.

I like crazy, I say. A fake smile widens on my face to appease my friend.

Let’s set up our own notes. Angela’s eyes twinkle with hope.

I jump over the curb and follow the fence around the bend. Stacks of shipping containers come into view, along with several tall pole buildings.

Let’s not, I say. Even if he is inside or nearby, he’s made it clear he doesn’t want to see me. Why would that have changed? Especially with surveillance suggesting he has a girlfriend.

Angela reaches for my backpack and tugs at it. What’s gotten into you?

If Dean doesn’t want to be found, I don’t want to push it. I tug away from her and keep walking. My feelings toward Dean grow and morph daily, sometimes hourly. I love him. I don’t want to see him because he doesn’t love me. If I let him go, then I’ll be able to move on. But if I find him, maybe we can get our old lives back.

None of these thoughts stick. The shallow part of me wishes his new girlfriend has weird toes and bad breath.

Angela shakes her head. I don’t get it. You know he’s near, but you’re giving up.

Anger rushes through my head and settles hot on my cheeks. This isn’t your business. Let’s just do what we came here for, okay?

She throws her hands up. Fine by me.

We walk in silence toward the water and around several trucks.

Do you hear that? Angela asks. The air is stagnant, catching the sound of groans from the other side of the fence. Infected must be inside one of these buildings. But the fence is locked, so how would they be getting in there?

What will you tell Jason?

There might be infected in some of the outer buildings. I’ll let him make the call when he gets here. She points to the rows of shelves and stacks of cargo containers. Look at all those supplies. If the infected are in here, they’re trapped, hiding in the dark. We can be careful.

Rows of containers are evenly stacked in heights of four. Most are brown or orange, and some are scribbled with graffiti. We’ll need a crane to reach them all.

This is a huge operation. How valuable will the contents be compared to the trouble of opening them? I stare at the obstacle ahead of us.

Let me call Jason, she says.

I step back to give her privacy. The chill of discontent remains after our conversation about Dean, and I think of ways to apologize. I don’t want things to be weird with Angela. It’s always been clear she’s the one in charge, which I haven’t minded. When I tried to make a difference, it got Mike infected and Yeji killed. The consequences stay with me every waking minute. Even if Mike is recovering, Yeji never will. If only I hadn’t pushed the suppressant testing.

Jason said we hang tight while he brings the team. You packed lunch, right? Let’s just chill until they get here. Angela sits and pulls open her backpack in front of her to retrieve her rations.

I sit beside her and do the same. Then, before I bite into my energy bar, I say, I’m sorry I snapped about Dean. It’s a tough subject.

She chews on a piece of jerky and swallows. My wife is dead. She’s not coming back, no matter how hard I look for her. Angela’s tone is flat and honest. You have a chance to see him again, and I can’t understand why you would turn that away.

It’s not that simple. How do I explain that I’ve been forcing myself through the mourning process of losing Dean, and every time I allow a sliver of light to break in, I crumble all over again?

Don’t let fear keep you from finding out the truth.

Ignoring fear got Yeji killed.

Angela reaches out and rubs my shoulder. You have to forgive yourself. Yeji made her own decision. You didn’t push her into the arms of that infected girl.

Yeah, I mumble. Yeji wouldn’t have been there if I hadn’t dragged her in.

We finish our small lunch and head back to the main gate to meet the large team of runners from the Rec Pier.

Jason leads our group, dressed in black. His dirty blond hair curls above his green eyes. I also spot Rob, taller and leaner than most. He’s walking beside Jeronimo, and the two are having a friendly laugh.

I smile as they approach. This sense of belonging was what brought me here.

Rob sees me and walks up, returning my grin. He’s become a bit like his old self since leaving the hospital. Well, nice to see you, ladies. Come here often?

I grin up at him. Oh, yes. I love hanging out in industrial parks. It’s where I do all my shopping. Good discounts.

He raises his hand with fingers spread wide. Five finger discount, you mean? The discount can only be obtained with this coupon. He holds up a crowbar in his other hand.

I seem to have left mine at home. Maybe you can help a shopper out? Joking aside, the crowbar appears heavy and cumbersome. I’m not prepared for this venture.

Jeronimo joins us. I’ve got you covered. We’re in teams of four. So, me, you, Angela, and Rob are together. We don’t all need crowbars.

Since I arrived at the Rec Pier, Jeronimo has kept his distance. I’ve sensed he was closer to Yeji than I initially thought but is hesitant to show any bit of remorse that might shatter his tough-guy image. Needless to say, I’m glad we don’t speak often.

I smile, acknowledging our group. As I glance at the crowbar in Jeronimo’s grip, I also notice a handgun strapped to his waist. Angela has one too, but Rob and I continue to be runners without guns. My knives are strapped to my belt as they have been, and Rob carries a club baton.

Jason calls out to the group. Okay. Everyone gather around. You should all have your team assignments. If you could, go stand with your team before we get started.

The crowd shuffles as everyone finds their people. I study Jason as he watches the others. He steals a glance my way, and my cheeks warm. It’s been this game between us since I’ve arrived. My hands want to reach out and touch him, but we’re not there yet. I’m not sure he trusts me after what happened at the hospital.

They no longer bring me news regarding Dr. Warren’s trials, which is painful. However, this seems to be my punishment for what happened. It’s far less severe than what happened to Mike and Yeji, so I accept it for now.

He catches my gaze and smiles. I do the same, feeling my cheeks warm at his acknowledgment.

Each newly formed group of runners converges in front of Jason. One runner holds a pair of snippers, ready to break the chain.

Jason stands tall and calls out. Listen up. We are looking for specific supplies, so check the list I gave you. Fuel is big. We are not here to take anything we can’t carry today. Just mark the area where you found it and report back to us. Don’t worry about containers you can’t reach right now. He holds up a spray paint can, so everyone knows what he means by marking. A runner walks around, handing each group a can.

Another team will come with a truck tomorrow, Jason continues. Be careful. The infected are most likely within the outbuilding. They like dark places. If something looks like a zombie home, then don’t fucking go inside. Am I clear? Meet back here in three hours. He claps his hands, and the crowd disperses.

Before Jason walks away with his group, I catch up to him.

Hey, I say.

Hi, Shelby. How’s it going? he asks casually.

I’m not sure Angela told you, but we walked the fence line, and there’s no break anywhere. So if the infected are inside, they’ve been locked in for a while or— I trail off, unsure if my mind is making things up.

Or you think someone put them there? Jason looks behind me as my group waits for me to join.

Or that. I can’t figure out how else they would get inside a locked gate.

He grins and shakes his head. We’re both thinking the same thing, so be careful today. Stay close to Jeronimo or Angela. His finger taps the gun on his hip.

I will, I say. I have the urge to reach for his hand but stop. You be careful too.

Don’t worry about me. I’ll talk to you later, okay?

The promise of later sits curiously with me. We catch quick conversations in the halls or when collecting our rations, but we haven’t been alone since he brought me to the Rec Pier. He’s avoiding me, which means he’s also avoiding my questions.

I nod and walk over to the others. We watch as the chain is snipped, and the wide gates swing open. Jeronimo carries a hand-drawn map and walks away without looking back at us. It appears someone drew a grid over a printed-out map, and each team gets an area.

The stacks assigned to us are deep inside the yard. We follow train tracks that run through the lot and pass boxcars with colorful graffiti.

You ready for this? Rob says with a grin. Like a giant Easter egg hunt, but you don’t want to find the egg with a zombie inside.

Knock it off, Angela says as she passes us.

Rob mocks her words in silence with a comical grimace.

You’re going to get us both in trouble. I elbow him in the ribs, trying to stifle my laugh as we follow our teammates into the stacks.

The tracks end with big planks of wood painted yellow and black, indicating the end of the line. Jeronimo points to the left. That’s where we’re supposed to check.

We face a train with cars stacked on two levels. A crane is stationed at one of the ends. They’re frozen in the shipping process, waiting for a truck to transport them to dealerships around the East Coast. Most of the cars look like the gas caps are already open, but we’ll have to check each one to be sure. Behind these are shipping containers and metal shelves stacked high with boxes wrapped in plastic. They rest on wooden pallets, and I scan the yard for a forklift. Three hours might not be enough time for us to cover this area.

Jeronimo barks his orders, Angela and Rob, you check the cars. Shelby, you’re with me. We’ll start with the stacks in the back.

Oh, I thought I’d stay with Angela. She’s my usual partner.

Jeronimo shakes his head. We need muscle on both teams. No offense. He quickly tries to backtrack. I mean, you’re both strong, especially Angela, but, um—

Angela punches him in the arm. Oh, I know what you mean. Us fragile ladies can’t swing a crowbar like you can, so we need you powerful men to watch after us. Go ahead, Rob, lead the way. She sweeps her hand in front of her to show him which direction they should go.

Don’t put me in the middle of this, Rob jokes uneasily. Angela follows behind him and flips off Jeronimo as she passes him.

I didn’t mean you weren’t capable. I just thought it would even up the team better this way. He attempts to fix the situation, and it’s strange to see him even bother.

Whatever, Angela calls over her shoulder.

In all honesty, I’d rather Rob or Jeronimo wield the crowbar while I use the paint can and keep notes on what we discover. I try to hide my smirk as I follow him.

Jeronimo walks behind the trailers full of cars and toward our destination. I suspect he wants to talk to me about something, so I reluctantly take his bait and keep my eye on Angela as I walk away.

The shelves tower over us, making us feel tiny and ill prepared. I swallow and rub my sweaty palms on my pants.

What’s wrong? You’re not afraid of heights, are you? Jeronimo snickers.

I didn’t think I was. With no safety net to catch us, I get dizzy imagining being that high off the ground. I’ve been in similar situations, but I suppose things look different when you’re not running for your life.

Guess what else we don’t have? A ladder. I’ll try to go up on the side, see how high I can get. You can start checking the lower crates. Okay?

Thanks, I say.

Plastic is wrapped around the crates several times over. I use a knife to slice through, but the plastic is thick. Most are labeled with car parts and other mechanical pieces that could be important at some point, but they’re not what we were told to look for. The rows are long, and it takes me an hour to get through half the lower level. Blisters have formed on my hand, which is throbbing from holding the knife and cutting repeatedly.

Hey, down there! Find anything good? Jeronimo calls from a story above me.

How did you get up there?

He gives me a shrug. Want to join me?

Um, no. I’ll stay down here. I’ve found nothing good. How about you?

Same. And we’ve already wasted an hour. I’ll come down, and we can check the containers.

He disappears, and within minutes, he’s next to me. His face is sweaty from exerting himself. He motions for me to follow him to the containers. Before we try to open any, he gives them a good knock to see if there’s anything alive inside. Time and again, there’s nothing.

The first one is empty, and so are the next few.

This isn’t going well, I say.

Sure as shit isn’t. Let’s try that one over there, he says, pointing at a yellow container in the next row.

As we walk over, I want to ask him about Yeji. Every time I try to bring her up, he shuts me down, but maybe today will be different. Do you still think about her?

Who? He struggles with the latch on the door but uses the crowbar to bang it loose.

Yeji.

He pauses and runs his hand over the crease where the doors meet. This is sealed pretty tight. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get it open.

Let me help. I try to wedge my fingers into the crease, but they won’t fit.

That’s a fucking waste of time. This whole plan is. We should be looking for artillery.

I move to the next container to give him space. The rusted red metal absorbs the sun’s heat and warms my body as I move closer to it. A hand-pull crosses over the large doors. I try to push the latch, and it starts to give but squeaks to a halt. After sitting for so long, most of the doors are hard to get started, but they swing open easily once you do. I hate being too weak for this.

Help me with this!

Move over. I got it. Jeronimo gives the latch a solid yank and uses the crowbar to jimmy the door open. Inside we find an Army-issued Jeep. Its green paint is marked with bright white numbers along the hood. We both wow over our find and run our hands over the metal.

Jeronimo takes the notepad sticking out of my backpack. This is worth mentioning. Let’s check if there’s any fuel. He finds the gas tank and opens it. Smells like oil.

I climb into the driver’s seat and find the keys in the ignition. We have keys. I could start it.

Jeronimo jumps in the back and steps into the passenger seat. We’d better not. I don’t want to waste gas. If it’s old, it might not be any good, anyway.

He twists his body to look at me, and I have to stop myself from moving away. Will he always be someone I flinch from, or is it just when he’s tipped the wrong way and it’s up to me to learn his pattern? Yeji believed he was a good person, but I’m not so sure.

I wonder if there are any guns in here, I say.

Those assholes haven’t given you a gun yet? He shakes his head and raises his brows. Well, I’ll fix that for you. You need one, and I have a few to spare. Jason thinks we can talk our way out of anything. He thinks he can reason with them or some shit. What we need is a plan of attack before they come and get us.

Who? I ask, wanting to be sure.

Don’t play dumb.

It’s Fat Man, isn’t it? He’s been growing his numbers at Domino since he left the Broom Factory near us.

He eyes me and puts his arm around the back of my chair. Well, well. It looks like you know more than I thought. It shouldn’t surprise me, since you’re running around with Angela now. She kiss you yet?

I roll my eyes. Don’t be an ignorant asshole. He puts his hands up, mocking a surrender. I want to punch him, but I resist, curious what else he has to say. When will they attack?

That’s the point. We don’t know. We should attack them before they come after us. He leans back in his seat, which gives me a few inches of breathing room.

What do Mona and Lindsay have to say? Given they are in leadership positions at the Rec Pier, I assume they both have strong opinions on this matter.

Mona will do what Jason wants. Those two are tight, like grandma and her baby boy kinda tight. He winks, trying to get me to laugh at his comment.

A loud clang breaks my concentration. We find Angela and Rob standing at the entrance.

Cool find, Rob says. His hand reaches out to run over the painted numbers on the hood. Jason’s a veteran, right? He’ll appreciate this.

I get out of the Jeep and walk toward him. Yep. It even has gas.

Rob whistles. That is a sweet find. We got some fuel, not much. It’s almost time to head back.

Angela walks in behind him with her eyes locked on the Jeep. Wow, she says with a smile on her face.

Right? Rob jokes. Can I keep it? Please, Mom? He clasps his hands together, pleading.

She laughs. We’ll see what Jason says. Definitely mark this one.

We close the cargo container, and Jeronimo records it in our log, noting the location. Together we don’t find much. A few useful tools, lumber, the Jeep, and fuel, even if it’s old.

The sun rests behind puffy clouds, making the afternoon feel later than it is. But, with it being early spring, darkness falls around 5:30. We meet the other runners at the entrance, many looking as tired as I feel. Jeronimo compares lists and brags about the Jeep we found.

After another half hour moves by, one runner asks, What section did Jason and his team have?

I’d noticed he was missing but figured there was a reason nobody shared with me. When I hear someone else question it, my nerves start up.

Jeronimo says, They had the warehouse in the back corner that touches the water.

That’s just like Jason, to save the most dangerous job for himself. Everyone turns toward the back area of the lot, but it’s obscured by trucks and other buildings.

Someone speaks up, They should be back by now. Something must be wrong.

I try to stop my mind from going to the worst-case scenario, but that’s how my brain works. He’s in trouble. A cloud of dread falls heavy on the group and prickles of anxiety rush through my skull.

Jeronimo whistles to get the group’s attention. Okay, let’s have everyone pass their paperwork to Angela. She’ll run it back to the Rec Pier with her group. We need to keep moving with the important work we did here today. As the lead runner, he steps into the spotlight with ease, though his brows are furrowed, showing he’s as worried as me.

Angela walks around, taking the paperwork with Rob assisting. I plant my feet, unwilling to leave until we find Jason. Things have been strange, but I’d like to believe there is an unspoken connection between us.

Jeronimo continues, I’ll take three volunteers to go check out the warehouse; the rest of you head back. No need to keep us all out here.

A show of hands goes up. I’m one of them. Jeronimo eyes me cautiously. I will go even if he doesn’t call on me. Perhaps he’s learned this about me by now.

Okay, you three. Let’s go. He points to two other runners and me.

Before I move, Rob tugs on my jacket. Be careful, he says.

I will. My promise is thin. I’m not sure what we’re about to face.

The four of us trek out to the far reaches of the yard, approaching a warehouse that is fully enclosed by vertical sheet metal and only a few windows and doors. I suspect something large is housed within. Planes, boats, or something I couldn’t even imagine. The backside of the building hangs out over the water, and the front has two sliding doors that are nearly twenty feet tall. A regular-sized door sits next to these.

Someone calls out from the side of the building. We pick up our pace to round the corner. I gasp when two men in black approach us, carrying another one of our runners. The man in their arms is limp, and his chest is bleeding. Jeronimo rushes over to them and helps lay the injured man down.

What happened? Where’s Jason? Jeronimo asks.

There are infected inside. The man huffs, out of breath. We knew they were in there, but we used the fire escape to check. The runner doubles over and puts his hands on his knees to calm his nerves.

Jeronimo grinds his teeth. You knew there were infected inside, and you still went in? What the fuck?

No, man. It’s not like that. Carl talked Jason into it. He thumbed at the unconscious man lying on the ground. Jason told him we should leave it alone, but Carl insisted we at least look inside. So he found the fire escape. It’s on the outside of the building. Jason figured we’d be safe, and I thought so too.

My eyes trail over the injured man as my heart races. I’ve been around enough death to know when life has left someone. This man’s chest no longer draws air, and his eyes no longer flutter; he’s not coming back.

Where is Jason now? I keep my tone calm but firm.

The same man answers, his voice shaking. The fire escape fell, and we were forced to go through the inside of the building. There was a catwalk inside, and we could see the infected on the ground floor. There was another way out, but Carl lost his balance and fell. Jason went after him and hoisted him up to us. But…

But what? I lose my calm and step closer to him.

From inside, the building stirs with the moans of the infected. The sound of bodies shuffling inside bang against the metal walls.

The infected came. Jason told us to go, and he’d catch up. He points to a side door, closed tightly. They were behind us, and we shut it as fast as we could.

Jeronimo runs his hand over his jet-black hair. Fuck! He’s still in there?

I walk toward the door, ready to throw it open, but Jeronimo catches me. What the hell are you doing? he shouts.

We have to get him out! Just open the door. I try to wiggle away from him, but he holds my biceps tightly.

Jeronimo growls in frustration. I understand he’s been there for you. He’s been there for me too. But we don’t know what’s inside. There could be hundreds of infected. So then we’d have a dead Jason.

No! Don’t say that. I hold back crying as my anger rages. They can’t leave him inside. This thin sheet of metal is all that separates Jason from safety.

We look at the crumpled body on the ground covered in blood with his legs twisted in odd directions.

One runner asks, What are we gonna do, man? It’ll be dark soon. We can’t stay here.

Shut up! I know. Fuck! Jeronimo pulls out his phone but stalls. Okay. We’re going to go back to the Rec Pier and come back for Jason in the morning. If we try to go in there now and there’s infected, it’s too close to dark. We may not be able to escape.

No! I shout.

This isn’t your call, Shelby! We need weapons and ammo. We’re not prepared for what might be inside. Jason is smart. If he’s alive now, he’ll be alive tomorrow. Jeronimo walks over to the dead man on the ground. Everyone grab a limb. We can’t leave him here.

The runners grab a limb and lift the body.

I can’t go without Jason, I say.

Suit yourself, Shelby. Jeronimo leads the others away from the building. I’m making this call to keep us all safe. We don’t know why those infected are in there. If you ask me, Fat Man did this.

I wait for Jeronimo to turn back. His long hair is pulled into a low ponytail that sways as he walks away. Any second, he’ll realize I can’t do this alone. Any second, he’ll turn back to help me.

Only he doesn’t.

two

Shelby

I’m trapped in the dark

Reaching and searching for you

To ignite the spark

The building resembles an airplane hangar with a curved roof and tall walls. The back butts up to the water, so there are only three sides to walk next to. It’s possible that boats are stored inside, and Jason has gotten himself to a safe place. The impulse to run to the door and fling it open is overpowering, but I resist, because when I rest my ear against it, I hear the soft hiss and shuffling of infected within. Gently, I test the knob to find it unlocked.

Around one corner, I see the fire escape they were speaking of. The rickety stairs are detached from a metal deck two stories above me, and the door is open where they entered. I can’t go back that way.

Darkness creeps through the sky; I have little time. I check my surroundings, searching for a resolution. A crane sits ten feet from the front door with a compartment I could crawl inside. The window has no glass, but the door and metal surrounding it offers a hiding place. In my search, I find a blue rope in shrink-wrapped bags.

Okay. I can work with this, I murmur, quickly getting to work hatching a plan.

The light I had moments ago dims faster than usual as I scurry around the yard in an attempt to get things in place. As it grows darker, the hisses and screeches of the infected grow louder. They claw at the wall as if the moon itself alerts them to awaken.

I tuck into the body of the crane and grab the rope I tied to the door handle.

With a big tug, I pull the rope, so the door I cracked open now pulls wide. In my plan, the infected would come pouring out, but it takes time for them to find the opening. Once they do, one by one, they tumble out. They walk awkwardly as their groans and gurgles fill the air. I crouch lower to the floor of the crane as the infected lumber around.

If they don’t have a reason to move on, they hover, waiting for a target. I prepared for this and tied a second rope around metal siding a good distance from me. I tug on it, creating a clatter loud enough to draw the infected in that direction. Their pace quickens as they go to investigate.

I watch the door for any still lingering. When I’m sure it’s clear, I take my knife in my hand, and run through the door and close it behind me so no one follows me in. There are skylights on the roof that provide little help. The smell of decay and human waste makes me gag. The solid black space offers no direction. I listen but don’t hear so much as a hiss or step. I stretch my knife out in front of me as I walk.

Jason? I whisper. My knees shake as I inch forward.

A flicker of light catches my eye, smaller than a flashlight. I put my hands out and walk toward it. As I get closer, I discover it’s on the ground, so I reach for it. The green light flashes again, and I realize it’s Jason’s phone.

Jason? I whisper again. I put his phone in my back pocket. If anyone is in here, they must have heard me.

Crunching gravel echoes in the distance, and I twist my body toward the sound. When I focus, I notice the musty air and the crispness of water sloshing from somewhere inside the building.

Something catches my foot, and I stumble forward, losing my knife. I’m defenseless. I kneel and pat the dirt, searching for it.

My breaths become short and quick with panic. I have to get out of this dark tomb. My brain is telling me to run.

Run!

Get out.

An angry groan pierces the air.

Before I can right myself, something rushes me from behind. A hot hissing comes close to my ear, and I tumble to the ground. Teeth clamp onto my shoulder. I scream out in pain. My hands find the neck of my attacker, and I push their cold body off my shoulder, their teeth dragging off my canvas jacket. The infected is on top of me, and I can tell it’s a man by the strength of his arms pinning me down.

His teeth catch the sleeve by my wrist, and he pulls me closer. I twist my body, trying to get on all fours to stand, but he yanks me away by the cloth. He’s too strong. As his hands wrap around my arm, his teeth release my sleeve. I make out his silhouette from the skylight above and watch his mouth stretch wide.

I try to scream, but my voice is lost. It’s impossible to pull my arm from his grip. I shut my eyes, waiting for my flesh to be torn.

Suddenly, the infected is lifted from my body, and I hear a splash as if he’d fallen into the bay. I scramble backward and stand, grabbing for my other knife.

Shelby?

Jason? I cry and hold out my free hand, trying to find him.

What the fuck are you doing here? Are you hurt?

I turn toward his voice. They said you were in here with the infected.

Are you hurt? he repeats.

My coat protected me. I’m okay. At least, I think so.

He finds my outstretched hand and pulls me toward him. Okay. Fuck. Okay. We’re going to be okay. I’ve been hiding in a boat and found an inflatable raft. Stay right here.

My voice cracks. "No. Please, don’t