Wither With Me

CHAPTER 23 - GUNFIRE

Logan swept the entire shelf of supplies into the sack, before moving on to the next one. By his side, a couple goons were doing the same thing with nearby closets, taking as many resources as they possibly could before it was too late.

"Hey, hey...! Is the van coming or what!?" asked someone.

"Not yet... The boys went to get it a while ago, they should be arriving soon!" replied another man, standing on the open back door, leading out into a flight of stairs which connected with the street.

"How is the situation back there...?" Logan pointed towards the front door of the storage room, towards the concourse hall.

"I can't hear anything... Those two got some reinforcements a moment ago, didn't they!?"

A burly figure approached them from a corner of the room.

"I think they have a damn good shooter down there... I saw how they dropped that bastard in a single shot." Jacobs proceeded to cough and spit on the floor before continuing. "They're probably going to die."

"That wouldn't be a problem, would it?" Julien stepped into the conversation, tightly holding Lilian's restrained hands behind her back. "The van doesn't have enough space for everyone."

"Heh... You're exchanging them for sacks of food, aren't you? And I thought I was the mad one here..."

"Please, Mr. Jacobs, don't talk as if you wouldn't have done the same thing."

"Nah, I would've beaten the crap out of them myself."

"Maybe we should stop the pointless chit-chat?" said Logan. "If those idiots out there get slaughtered, we might have to hold our ground here until the van arrives."

Hearing them talk nonchalantly about the deaths of their comrades, the rest of the group shared uncomfortable looks among themselves. Nobody wanted to leave their friends behind, but nobody wanted to oppose that trio either. Especially not Jacobs. His brilliant criminal record was proof that fucking around with him was a very bad idea. If lowering their heads and obeying was enough to ensure their survival, they'd do so.

Lilian, however, didn't seem to pay any attention to anyone around her. Her angry fit had subsided shortly after getting restrained. Her eyes were adrift, focused on nothing at all. Or maybe she was, as a matter of fact, focused on something. Something only her eyes could see. Her pupils flickered non-stop, like a broken engine rattling in its effort to kick in once again.

******

Deep within the darkness of the subway, tucked away where nobody would interfere with it, a big shape wiggled and squirmed in short, calculated bursts of movement, almost like spasms. It was a mound of hard organic tissue, the exterior of which looked like some sort of calcified carapace.

Several shamblers hugged the thing, clinging to it. Even though they had been converted just a while ago, they had already lost all remnants of vitality. Their bodies were partially fused with the vibrating mass, emaciated, drained of life. What remained of their vague consciousness would soon fade away in its entirety, leaving nothing but empty husks behind.

The mound pulsated and trembled violently one last time, seconds before a giant vertical crack split it in half from top to bottom. There was something inside. A slime-covered appendage emerged from the interior, prying both halves open. Clouds of mysterious steam poured from the black cavity inside, dissipating upon reaching the floor.

As the cocoon slowly fell apart into several pieces, a humanoid shape rose from its remains. It stepped on the decaying shambler corpses on its way out, crushing their bones beneath its weight. The darkness in the tunnel was quickly dispelled by the thing's bioluminescence, which gradually emanated from its body with the newborn energy that flowed through its veins.