“Sam?” I whispered, shivering uncontrollably and looking around. “Sam?!”
The guy appeared from behind the shelf, armed with a long mop. His hair was disheveled, his reddened eyes were inflamed.
“Shh,” he hissed. “They’re there. Four of them. And…” Sam swallowed the rest of the sentence. He couldn’t finish. There's no escaping reality.
I wanted to scream to drown out the external sounds, but I only nodded to Sam, sinking back down to the floor and staring up at the ceiling.
The realization of my own helplessness in the face of the circumstances was suffocating. There was a way out. The only way. And it led up, through the doors.
But outside, behind the glass, the infected were waiting for us. Were they even alive? It was impossible to survive with such wounds. Could it be that monsters from ancient legends and forgotten tales had emerged into our world? Could those terrifying creatures spoken of in the ominous prophecies of religious texts become reality? Ghosts from nightmares. Phantoms from the worn myths of distant icy lands. What else could those dreadful entities be? Madmen? Cannibals?Was it all just a harbinger of the impending end, as the Goddess Mother sang about in the scriptures?
All we could do was wait. And we didn’t even know what or who we were waiting for. Inaction clouded our minds, painting horrific images of the imminent future that awaited us. If it even existed for us. Who knew what was happening above right now?
We had come for materials, but had ended up in a trap. Why hadn’t the news from the past few weeks stopped us? Why hadn’t the widespread city closures scared us? Why had we taken it so lightly and let the seriousness pass us by? Why had we so easily pushed aside the memory of those patients in the hospital who bit, tore, and growled? Why had the people on the street become just like those patients?..
And most importantly.
Why hadn’t the Three disclosed the information about the Northern Plague? Why hadn’t they shed light on what was happening in the North and taken preemptive action?
Sam continued to stand a little way off, peering through the gaps between the bookshelves at the door. Holding the mop. Wearing a T-shirt with a caricatured monster. The absurdity and horror of the situation were overwhelming. Could anything be so funny when blood freezes in your veins?