chapter 15

Chapter 15: The Compromise

​For three excruciating seconds, neither of us moved.

​Derrick’s hand remained glued to the iron latch, his knuckles white, his chest rising and falling in deep, furious breaths. My taser stayed leveled directly at his chest, the faint blue hum of the prongs the only sound in the dark entryway besides the frantic pounding outside.

​"Shoot me, then," Derrick growled, his jaw locked in a rigid line. "Go on, Evelyn. Prove to me that you're no better than the monsters ripping through the street."

​"I am keeping your sister alive," I said, my voice dangerously steady. "Look at the monitor, Derrick. Look at the man on the left!"

​Derrick flicked his eyes to the security screen mounted beside the door frame.

​Through the grainy infrared camera, the man clutching his shoulder was trembling violently. He wasn't just bleeding—his skin was slick with cold sweat, his veins bulging black against his neck. He was turning. In less than two minutes, his central nervous system would collapse, and he would rip into the woman and child standing right beside him.

​"He's already dead," I said coldly. "If you pop that latch, he lunges straight past you into Maya's room."

​Derrick stared at the screen, the horror washing over his face as the realization hit him. His hand slowly slipped off the iron handle. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a agonizing mix of defeat and lingering resentment.

​"So we just let the girl die?" Derrick choked out, his voice hollow. "That's your grand plan? We sit in here like cowards while a kid gets torn to pieces?"

​"No," I said, lowering the taser and flicking the safety back on. "We use the airlock cage."

​Before Derrick could ask, I stepped past him and grabbed a heavy steel chain hoist mounted near the inner vestibule.

​When I fortified the warehouse, I hadn't built just a single entrance. I had designed a reinforced outer holding cage—a gated five-by-five-foot iron security pen situated right between the reinforced street gate and our main interior heavy steel door. It was meant for cargo inspection, but right now, it was our only salvation.

​I hit the control panel beside the vestibule, dropping the heavy interior steel door into place behind us, completely locking Maya into the safe inner zone.

​"Listen to me very carefully," I whispered to Derrick as I unlatched the smaller, heavy-wire outer viewing slot. "We pull the woman and the child into the outer cage. We shut the outer iron door before the man or the runners can force their way in. If you hesitate for even a fraction of a second, the runners get through."

​Derrick swallowed hard, picking up his iron tire iron. "Tell me when."

​I opened the tiny viewing slot and yelled through the reinforced iron mesh: "Drop the man! Woman, grab the child and get inside the cage NOW!"

​Outside, the woman didn't ask questions. Hearing a human voice, she grabbed her crying daughter by the jacket, shoved the stumbling, black-veined man backward into the dark street, and lunged toward our gate.

​"Now!" I barked.

​Derrick yanked the outer chain release. The heavy iron cage door swung open just three feet.

​The woman threw herself and her child through the narrow gap onto the concrete floor of the pen.

​Behind them, the infected man let out a terrifying, guttural screech as his eyes rolled back completely black. He lunged for the closing gate, his rotting hands grasping at the iron bars, backed by two rushing runners charging down the pavement!

​SLAM!

​Derrick threw his massive weight against the heavy iron cage door, driving the steel deadbolt deep into the frame just as three bloody bodies slammed violently against the metal bars from the outside.

​BANG! BANG!

​The iron cage rattled under the heavy impact, but the reinforced alloy held firm. Outside, the infected man collapsed onto his knees, his throat making wet, rattling tearing sounds as the other two runners pounced on him right against the mesh.

​Inside the tight, dark security pen, the woman pulled her daughter close, sobbing hysterically into the girl's hair.

​Derrick stood over them, his arms shaking from the exertion, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He looked through the inner viewing glass at me, his face pale and grim.

​We had saved them from the street. But as the child lifted her tear-streaked face in the dim emergency light, my eyes caught something on her left ankle.

​A fresh, dark smear of blood soaked through her white sock.

​Derrick saw it at the exact same time I did. His eyes locked onto mine, and the quiet relief in the tiny security cage died instantly.