Where We Go | Book Three

8. Corporate Bloodshed

Ben's fingers tightened around mine before dropping his grip completely. The look we gave each other was the only communication needed for all of us to take off running downstairs. My chest tightened as we sprinted. The events of James a few moments earlier suddenly seemed insignificant as the thought of losing one of us hung in a dark cloud above us.

In the main office, Julia stood over the body of an Infected. Blood splattered her face and clothes like someone had flicked red paint at her. The same thick, dark blood dripped from the blade and was already beginning to stain the pale carpet. 

With her free hand, she clutched at her stomach, gripping the bloodied wound tightly. Chris pushed Sophia behind his body, shielding the scene from her view but I expected it was already too late.

"I think we just found the Infected that bit James," Pilot said.

Julia looked up from the body, panting heavy breaths. "Who the fuck is James?"

"There was a guy upstairs who was bitten," I said. "I shot him."

Her eyes narrowed. "That was your shot?"

"...Yes."

She nudged the Infected with her boot. "He went mental as soon as it went off. I don't even know where it came from."

I tried to hide my grimace. "Sorry."

"It's okay..." She half shrugged before turning her stare to Chris. "I thought someone was keeping watch."

Chris kept his hand on Sophia's shoulder behind him. "The building was supposed to be clear. How was I to know it was in here?"

Julia's stare darkened. "That's the point of keeping watch."

"Alright, alright." Ben stepped forward between them. "Julia, are you hurt at all?"

She shook her head. "Miraculously not."

Ben exhaled a sigh of relief. "Then let's just be glad we're all still alive, and start getting out of here before more turn up."

We gathered the supplies we had onto one of the desks and began splitting them between our bags. Somehow, Pilot had found a full cupboard stash of tinned soup and coffee while Ben had managed to break into the vending machines and clear out all the contents.

Pilot took it upon himself to haul the Infected into the bathroom so Sophia didn't have to look at it, but I still saw her green eyes linger on the large red stain now on the carpet. She helped me pack the bags, splitting the tins between each so one bag wouldn't be heavier than the other.

Chris didn't offer to help, instead, he planted himself in one of the office chairs and began to spin around. "I wouldn't have minded working somewhere like this," he said, stopping a rotation to type on the dusty keyboard.

"I never pictured you as the corporate type," I raised a brow.

"City corporate, no. But here, just outside the city on the outskirts, going home at the end of the day to a place in the countryside. I could relax with a life like that." He kicked up his feet onto the desk, stretching back.

"You sound like an 80-year-old man re-living his memories," said Pilot.

Chris scowled, leaning further back in the chair. "80-year-old men don't have anything to worry about."

"Except heart attacks and inevitable death," I pointed out.

"Those aren't exclusive to that demographic."

"Whatever," I said, rolling my eyes as the door opened again. Ben entered the room, his eyes curious as he looked between us.

"Everything good?" he asked.

I nodded. "Bags are all set. Any weight discrepancies and you can take it up with Soph, she's been very thorough."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Ben smirked, rubbing Sophia's hair. He grabbed one of the bags and led the way to the door. "Alright, let's move."

"Whoever finds this place is going to think there was some sort of corporate bloodshed," Chris laughed, hauling one of the bags onto his shoulder.

*

Outside the office building, the air was still. I was somehow more aware of the lack of it, the lack of anything around us. We weren't in the middle of nowhere by any means, but I almost expected more from an area like this. Something more than how unnerving the silence felt. Not even the trees dared to wave us goodbye as we made our way to the truck.

"It's quiet," Chris said, taking the words from me. "Don't you think?"

"Don't you think you should know better than to say things like that?" Ben replied, throwing his bag into the open boot of the truck.

"Why?"

"Because nothing good ever happens after you do."

Julia pulled herself into the backseat with Pilot's help and I stepped over to her, holding out a pack of painkillers I'd kept from the bag. "These should help," I said, resting an arm against the door.

She closed her eyes, holding the packet close to her chest. "Thank you," she grinned.

"Take it easy," I added, "Those are the only ones I found."

Her eyes narrowed to the overgrown flowerbed behind me and her already pale skin whitened.

"What?" I scowled, turning.

I froze when I caught sight of what she had seen. In the depths of the unkempt shrubs, a body lay amongst the leaves. Male or female, there was no way to tell anymore. Every inch of its body had been mutilated beyond any recognition and its limbs were barely attached to its torso.

"Shit," Ben whispered next to me.

My chest tightened the more I stared at the picture. The image was too familiar to a scene I'd left behind as an Infected. A scene I'd caused. A scene where I'd torn a person apart in the same way. They'd been left with no way to identify them, their blood and guts staining the grass from a single brutal attack. I still remembered the face of the woman before I'd left her like that.

I turned and vomited onto the grass, heaving up the little food I'd eaten.

Ben was at my side in a moment, rubbing a hand against my back. "It's okay," he spoke quietly. "You're okay."

When I stood, I still couldn't slow my quickening breaths and my heart seemed to beat at an unnatural rhythm in my chest. I couldn't tear my gaze away from that mutilated body on the floor, now the shell of a person.

"Em," Ben said, holding my arms as he looked me in the eye. It took everything in me to hold his golden stare. "Everything's fine. Breathe."

I only nodded, my body trembling as he held me.

He didn't drop his grip, his eyes focused on only me. Slowly, I felt myself falling into him, felt myself starting to forget everything around us. One breath at a time, they began to match his. Lifting and falling in time with his chest.

"I'm okay," my voice cracked as he wrapped me in his arms.

"You sure?" Ben raised a brow, not convinced.

I nodded, swallowing a lump in my throat. "Yeah," I said.

"Do you want to get out of here?" he asked.

"Please."