[CLANK]
With the crashing of my lantern, all hell broke loose. First, I saw the eyes of many scavengers converging on me. There were simply too many to count.
The spike of adrenaline pushed me out of that torpor. I had to run. Grabbing my lantern by the still-hot metal of its casing and feeling my hand singe, I ran. I left behind the arrow with the carcasses. Maybe they would buy me some time—unlikely.
I ran. I was much faster than before, but I was also in the dark. I could hear the skittering and clattering of their claws behind me; they weren't catching up yet, but they weren't too far behind either. With no time to turn the lantern back on, I just used the wall as a guide as I ran.
I remembered the path I took to get here—left, right, another right, two straight... Then... was it a right or a left? I pulled myself to a stop, my feet skidding against the moist floor.
'Screw it.' I decided to take time to light the lantern. It had an in-built lighter. I clicked it once, a spark. No light. Twice. Steps in the corridor approaching rapidly. Three times. Light.
My eyes scanned the walls looking for an arrow... and didn't find any. I was lost.
With no more time to think, I ran. Straight ahead. The lantern swayed and swung while hanging from my waist. I ran with all my might; my leg started to protest—it wasn't fully healed.
I swung the backpack from my back, shoving a hand inside. Pulling out the round, white pill. I shoved it in my mouth and swallowed it whole as I ran.
A soothing numbness permeated my body; the fatigue was gone, all discomforts and even the smallest of pains were soothed, taken away by the pill. I ran faster, my legs no longer protested, my lungs refused to burn.
The sounds of the swarm started to die down, but I kept running. I knew they would most probably find me through smell and sound. I shoved my hand in my backpack again, pulling out my old shirt. I used it to dry my sweat and, to top it off, even spit on it. Then I rolled it around the stones I had left for my sling, making it decently heavy, and threw it down the end of a corridor. I ran the opposite way.
'That has a better chance of distracting them.'
I kept running, looking for any signs of Owl's markings. Then I saw something—but definitely not what I wanted. My legs reacted faster than my thoughts, and I jumped as a stray husk threw itself at my feet. I spun around, facing it.
'I can't leave my back to it, it's too fast. I have to kill it somehow.'
I pulled my backpack in one hand, holding the knife in the other. The husk had already scrambled to its feet, moving like a contortionist and crawling in between its own standing legs to face me again. Its body cracked and twisted, but it was fast—like a coiled spring, it bolted at me.
Using my backpack as a shield, I punched for its face. Its teeth sunk into something in my bag, but that was of no concern now. My knife fell, its point aimed at its hollow eyes. It moved its head to the side, nearly throwing me off balance when it didn't let go of the backpack. Instead of its eye socket, I hit it in the middle of the forehead, and the blade went only halfway through. It halted but didn't drop dead.
Using my own forehead as a hammer against the back of my hand, I slammed with all my force, driving the knife the rest of the way through. It fell limp, letting go of the backpack.
Pulling my knife away from its rotten bones, I ran. There was no time to think. I ran until the sounds were long gone and I stood in the still, dark sewers.
ººº
[Huff] [Huff] [Huff]
'What now, damn it.'
I found a way out—a set of ladders leading to a manhole. I could get out here and try my way on the streets. Getting to a roof and finding my way back shouldn't be too hard then...
'But I'll be in skinless territory.'
The sewers were infested with scavengers, and there were even some husks inside, but the skinless steered clear of them. It made sense; they were hunters. What they hunted were prey that could be infected by their madness. The scavengers were, quite simply, too stupid and weak to be infected. They would just die as if poisoned, so the skinless didn't bother with the sewers. The husks, on the other hand, had no such thoughts—maybe no thoughts at all, even. They just wandered and attacked everything that moved, except for other husks and beings higher up on their maddened hierarchy.
It wasn't a choice, really. The odds of me finding my way back were low, especially with a band of rabid rat-lizards after me. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Being eaten alive or taken by madness. Both were pretty terrible.
'I'll gamble up there.'
I climbed the ladder, moving the manhole aside with care and peeking out. Surprisingly, I recognized the street. It was the street of the old clothing boutique. I pulled myself up, not even bothering to close the manhole behind me.
I moved quickly and quietly, entering the shop.
I made my way through; my heartbeat was through the roof. I stopped at the back exit, examining the street ahead of me. Nothing, not even husks. I stayed still and listened, even closing my eyes for a few moments.
I could only hear the wind caressing the dead branches of trees and the broken roofs of destroyed homes.
I moved. I kept myself low to the ground and moved fast, making full use of the painkillers. I could see a dark spot forming on my black trousers, right over my leg injury; all the running and fighting had probably reopened the almost healed wound. But that was a problem for later—right now, I had to get back.
I saw the library, this time not going inside, just walking past. Retracing the path I went through with Owl.
ººº
Not long after, I saw the street ahead of me opening into the large plaza. And it was a picture of carnage. The bodies of dozens of husks lying around, scavengers—only the small ones this time—were feasting on their bones and skin. Those that ate the skin were fine, but any that tried for the bones ended up dead, too. And they just added to the pile. All of it happened in a strange, clear circle around the old church.
It stood imposing, as if unimpressed by the savagery of its surroundings—uncaring, unfeeling. It was just stone, so why did it give me that feeling?
The feeling of being watched was back, and this time there were no husks to take the fall for it.
I felt weirdly tempted to go inside the church, to see for myself the reason of all this. It was abandoned now, that was for sure.
The pull was so strong that I missed something. The rustling against the old roof tiles was harsher... too harsh to be wind. At the last moment, what saved me was gut feeling. A terrible premonition of death assailed my senses, and I threw myself to the ground...
My backpack took most of the damage, being torn to shreds. And yet, that was still not enough.
Dread gripped my heart and squeezed it in a vice; there was no pain and yet I felt it. My back was wet—not with water, with blood.
My blood—dripping from the long claws of a skinned that had dropped from one of the roofs right behind me. My eyes met its blind, predatory gaze. It looked at me as if it could see me, its black tongue lapping up my blood that colored its marble-white claws.
The vision of the pit of madness resurfaced in my mind. Was this how I would die?
Had my sentence just been passed?
Owl made it clear: one cut and you are gone. And I could feel it. The wound on my back felt cold, and it spread. It was slow but inevitable. It wasn't the cold of death but of change—transformation, involuntary and completely malign—it was worse.
I could have just laid there on the ground, but the last spark of something within me flared.
'I'll die on my terms.' My heart steeled.
I rolled on the ground, my hands moving on their own. I kept the core in my pocket and, in a bout of luck or sarcasm by the gods, the grenade had rolled right beside me. I fit the core in.
And it screamed. It was a loud, deafening mechanical roar. The noisemaker was much louder than expected, but that worked to my advantage.
The skinless was stunned; it gripped its head with its long, clawed hands, trying to make it stop hurting. I rolled the grenade to its feet... and ran.
Towards the tall, black wooden doors of the old church.