Something to Die For by Kaye Blue

Eight

Lucas

We steppedout of the infirmary and into a nightmare.

I had been prepared for that, knew that nothing good could be on the other side of the door.

But everything I’d been prepared for, or that I thought I’d been prepared for, hadn’t made me ready for this.

Carnage.

There was no other word for it.

We stood at the end of the cellblock and watched, and it was a scene I barely had the language to describe.

The cell doors were all open, and while the infirmary had been quiet and my cell block had been quiet, this place was the exact opposite.

Those screams of pain I’d heard before were even louder now, a cacophony that started to make my head ache. There were other sounds too, a groan, moan, something mindless and inhuman that chilled me to my core.

And nothing did that.

I scanned the room quickly, looked toward the end of the hall and then back again.

All the doors were open, and some of whatever was happening had spilled out.

There were what at first appeared to be fights, but after a closer look, I saw that it wasn’t that.

The inmates and the one guard I’d spotted weren’t fighting.

They were devouring.

I stood frozen, watched as a guard sank his teeth into a screaming inmate’s leg. He was joined by another, and I watched as they ripped chunks out of the man on the floor until the screaming stopped.

It took less than a minute, but that minute changed absolutely everything.

I exhaled when she wrapped her fingers around my free hand. I looked back at her, surprised. I’d almost forgotten she was there, almost forgotten everything except for the sight in front of me.

But at her touch I was brought back to the moment and hit with the knowledge that we had to move.

Now.

She met my eyes, hers wide with fear, glassy with unshed tears, and brimming with determination. I saw a discarded baton, and on instinct, I grabbed it, not bothering to think about who it had belonged to.

At a slight tug on my hand, I looked at the doctor. She looked down, and I saw that she had replaced the scalpel she held with the key. And she looked all the way down the block to the door on the other end.

Our salvation.

Maybe.

After all, who knew what lay on the other side?

But one thing was certain.

We couldn’t stay here.

I tightened my grip on the baton, hoping I wouldn’t have occasion to use it.

If I got pinned down, I’d fight like hell, but the odds weren’t good.

I looked at her again then nodded.

She tightened her hand around mine, her fingers soft, warm.

Alive.

The kind of touch I hadn’t felt in as long as I could remember, something that I couldn’t think about now.

So instead, I squeezed her hand back, focused, and then moved.

I wanted to run, but the thirty-cell length required that I keep some control.

If I slipped, dropped the baton, did any number of things, I might draw more attention.

And attention would be devastating.

Fortunately the men on this block were preoccupied.

I glanced into every cell as I went by, each displaying a different, but strangely similar scene.

One, sometimes two men, attacking another.

Ripping each other apart, tearing at their flesh with teeth.

I didn’t let my gaze linger, tried to keep my focus off what I was seeing and on the door.

I moved as fast as I dared, something like hope starting to rise in my chest when we were halfway down the hall.

Just little bit farther…

At her sharply inhaled breath, I looked back and zeroed in on the hand wrapped around her ankle.

I could see she wanted to scream, and I tightened my hold on her hand to make sure she didn’t.

She shook her head, the action seeming nervous, not directed at anything in particular.

Then she kicked the hand away.

She kicked again, and the hand released her.

I looked at it, noted that the mottled flesh was drawn tight, ashen.

Dead.

I followed the hand, up the arm, which was riddled with what I knew to be teeth marks, settled on eyes were milky, also dead.

And then kept moving.

Fourteen cells to go.

I looked back at the doctor, saw that one of the tears that had been gathering her eyes slipped down.

Then saw when she wiped away furiously, almost like she was mad at it for daring to fall. And again, I was pleased.

The situation was fucked, but she wasn’t falling apart.

Impressive.

But that wouldn’t count for shit if we didn’t get the fuck out of here.

She met my eyes, then nodded, seeming to understand.

And she didn’t let my hand go, not even when I started to run.

I ran as fast as I dared, the concrete floor smooth, those fucking flip-flops a hazard.

In fact, I kicked them off, knowing those fucking things would probably trip me up.

I only spent milliseconds looking inside of the cells, again seeing the same carnage and death that had been in all the others.

But with every step, I was closer to the door, closer to the way out.

Not that I knew what awaited me on the other side.

I’d deal with that then, but first—

The impact was sudden.

Before I had chance to fully recover, the smell of fetid breath, the feel of fingers clawing at me filled my senses.

I reacted, swung the baton wildly.

Made contact.

The dull thud was satisfying, and when I finally turned, I watched the man dressed in guard’s gear crumple and fall to the floor.

His neck was a bloody, gaping wound, and I could see other bite and wounds all over his body.

But those eyes…

Somehow, even through all that, the doctor still held my hand, and when I looked at her, I could see my own reaction reflected back at me.

That had been a close call, too close, and without wasting another moment, I took off again.

When I reached the door, I turned, but before I could fully look at her, she pressed the key into my hand.

I unlocked the door, pushed it open wildly, and slammed it closed less than a second after she came through.

I whirled around quickly, ready for anything. Or at least I hoped I was.

Was grateful when all I saw was one guard furiously emptying the gun locker.

“Judd! What’s going on?” she said.

“Doc! I thought they got you,” the guard said, looking frantic, but speaking, so not one of those things.

“They almost did.”

“Glad they didn’t. I’m clearing out of here,” Judd said.

I’d never seen him before, so I figured he was a fill-in, somebody who’d probably come up from minimum security or one of the courthouses because of the staffing crunch.

“Where’s everyone else?”

That question made him freeze.

“There’s no one else,” he whispered.

His eyes drifted to the left, and both the doctor and I followed his gaze.

“Power’s out everywhere, but I guess the cameras are on a generator.”

“They are,” the doctor said, her voice sounding distant as she stared at the screens.

I stared too.

There were eight screens, each focused on different part of the prison.

All of them showed the same scene.

At first glance, you might be able to call it a riot.

But it wasn’t that.

What was happening was a slaughter.

On every screen the same scene played out, someone still alive, not yet one of those things being chased and caught.

Eaten.

“We can’t just leave them in there,” she whispered.

“You want to go back in there, Doc, be my guest. But it’s your funeral,” Judd said.

She didn’t argue, and though I could see her angst, I also sensed she knew he was right.

“Have you talked to anyone on the outside?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. Couldn’t raise anybody. Couldn’t find nothing. Not on the radio or TV. Internet’s down, too. Figured the best thing was to cut out of here. Those…things will get out soon enough.”

She waited a pause, not agreeing but not having to.

“Where will you go?” she finally asked.

“Anywhere but here. Good luck, Dr. Albert.”

With that, Judd swung the canvas bag loaded with guns over his shoulder and made his way to the front gates.

Gates that were wide open.

“You plan on staying here?” I turned my attention back to the doctor.

“No…but we can’t just leave them.” Her eyes were still glued to the screens.

“You’re not leaving them,” I responded, an unfamiliar desire to comfort her coming up. “I got out of my cell, and all the others we passed were open. If someone can find a way out, that locked door is the only thing between them and the outside.”

“So if they can get in here, they might have a chance.”

I knew what she was thinking and knew exactly where it would go.

“We’re not opening that door,” I said, my voice low, threatening.

“No, we’re not opening it. I’m opening it,” she said, ignoring me completely and reaching for the key.

I lifted it, easily holding it out of her grasp.

She appeared frustrated and maybe a little bit more panicked than she had before.

Understandable, but still, I wouldn’t let her do something stupid to get me killed.

Or herself.

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing…”

“I’m not going to be stupid, Mr. Crowe.”

“If you’re going to open that door, you are.”

“I’m just going to crack it. Those…people,” she frowned. “Not people. Whatever they are. They’re slow. Uncoordinated.”

She had trailed off, her mind seeming to spin.

“I don’t have to leave it open, but if we just unlock it, maybe crack it a bit…”

“This is really fucking stupid,” I said.

“Probably. But I’m doing it anyway.”

She stretched up as tall as she could and plucked the key out of my hand.

And I didn’t put up a fight.

I was getting soft, and definitely at the wrong time.

“Wait. Before you do anything, we need a plan.”

“We?” She lifted a brow.

“Yeah,” I said, staring at the cuff around my wrist. “You’ve made yourself my problem.”

To my surprise, she smiled. “Ordinarily, I’d apologize, but desperate times…”

I found myself smiling too, but the expression quickly dropped. “Where are you going?”

Her eyes darkened, the smile of a moment ago just a distant memory. “My mother’s. I need to find her.”

I nodded, my mind churning. “So here’s what we’re gonna do.”

She looked at me expectantly, and I looked back at her, stalling.

In truth, I hadn’t thought beyond getting out of the cellblock, but now I needed to think bigger.

“You have a car here?” I looked at the far door.

“Yeah. Right outside.”

“Since you have such a bleeding heart, we’re going to prop that door and then haul ass to your car. I’ll get you to your mother’s and then you’re on your own.”

She nodded and then grabbed the baton that I’d forgotten I had dropped.

“I’ll hold on to this.”

“Key?” I gestured toward the handcuffs.

“Grabbed it before Judd left. It’s in my pocket, along with my car key. And they are staying there,” she said.

“You don’t trust me, Dr. Albert?” I touched my chest as though wounded.

“Call it insurance,” she said.

She caught sight of the wound she’d patched only hours ago and then froze.

“Did one of those things scratch you?”

I shook my head, looking down in my arms, my sides, making sure there were no new wounds.

“No.”

“Good.”

I didn’t ask her why, but it made sense. Probably wouldn’t want to get too near those things. Let one bite or even scratch you.

She slid the key in the door and looked back at me. “On three.”

I nodded, ready.

“One, two, three.”

She turned the key, jammed baton in the door, and, then turned, following behind me as I headed toward freedom.

I heard something but could feel the doctor beside me, so I didn’t look back.

“What color’s your car?” I called.

“Silver, two-door hatchback,” she said.

I ran toward the small car, some part of my mind marveling.

This was the first time I had stepped outside when I wasn’t shackled in nearly seven years, and I couldn’t even enjoy it.

“Key,” I called urgently.

“Just get in,” she responded.

I was closer to the driver’s side, so I ran toward it, hoping the door was unlocked. I heard the locks pop when I pulled the door it opened.

I jammed myself behind the steering wheel, the fit far too tight, and the circumstances making it so I didn’t care.

Somehow, she climbed over me and the steering wheel and settled into the passenger seat. I slammed the door and looked at the dashboard wildly, not sure what to do.

“Put your foot on the brake,” she yelled.

I did, and at the same time she pushed a button near the steering wheel and the engine roared to life.

“Guess some shit’s changed.”

But just like my first breath of free air, I didn’t waste time on technology.

Instead, I reversed out of the spot and slammed on the gas.

“Thank God the gates are open,” she whispered.

I didn’t respond and instead drove faster, speeding down the driveway I only had occasion to go down once.

I didn’t look back at the prison, didn’t see any reason to.

One thing was certain.

I would never go back there.

What awaited me now?

I didn’t know, but I was about to find out.