Not an Omega (EN)

10

Noah waited, just as he had the previous day. Lying near the hatch, still closed, he controlled his breathing as best he could. He had considered all options, and there was no turning back. He heard the light footsteps of the individual, the soft whistling drifting through the air, and, of course, the distinct jingle of the key ring. He positioned himself close to the door, hidden in the shadows in case the man decided to look through the opening. But the man did not do that. He simply opened the hatch, placed the tray on the ground, and nudged it with his foot.

Noah wasted no time. He grabbed the man's leg and pulled with all his might, mimicking what the gorilla had done to him the night before. The man dropped the key ring, which fell to the floor, and was violently pulled into the hatchway, groaning in pain. Noah took the opportunity to bite and scratch along the man's leg, trying to inflict as much pain as possible. He blindly grabbed an object from his left and began hitting repeatedly. He did not stop despite the kicks the man managed to land. Eventually, the man, stronger than Noah, managed to pull himself out and limp towards the exit, cursing Noah and vowing revenge. Noah glanced at the unconscious man still in the room and sighed in relief. Fortunately, the plan had worked. He proudly brandished the key ring before him and began to examine it closely.

— Alright, let's see which one opens this damned door.

Noah listened intently for any sound. It had been five minutes since he attacked one of his captors, and he expected that the man would have gone for reinforcements, but nothing happened. This didn't disrupt his plans; on the contrary, it might make things easier. He looked down at the small metal key he had identified as the door key. It was quite plain, with such a neutral design that it was hard to believe it was the only barrier between him and the outside world. He inserted the key into the lock and turned it twice to the left. Two clicks sounded. Tense, he grabbed the handle and tried to open it. But nothing happened. Despite his efforts, the door refused to open.

Panicking, Noah's mind raced. He desperately tried to figure out what he might have done wrong. Then, almost instinctively, he pulled. The door opened. He dashed into the corridor as quietly as possible, his eyes fixed on a single goal: a large green door, peeling with age. He rushed almost without braking. The door opened to the most horrifying and ghastly sight he had ever witnessed in his life.

Corpses were piled up by the dozens in a small room that radiated stifling heat. Although his eyes were the first to react to this hell, his nose quickly detected the putrid odor emanating from the bodies. Bile rose in his throat before he vomited onto the floor. No. It was too much. He couldn't look. And yet... He stepped into the room, feeling close to fainting, but he had to hold on. He made his way through legs, arms, and torsos (sometimes bound to each other) until he reached another door at the far end of the room. He fought back tears and drew on his remaining strength to continue. As he expected, the door was locked from the outside. He bent down to feel the outside air seeping in through slight drafts in the overheated room. Why hadn't they installed air conditioning? Because they don't want to preserve the corpses, a voice in his head suggested. Noah dismissed this thought and returned to the middle of the room, where a pile of less decomposed bodies seemed to be. He took shallow breaths to avoid succumbing to the nauseating smells, as he still had a mission: to blend in with the masses. A body propped against the wall, its rib cage wide open, caught his attention. Had a man done this? If Noah believed the gorilla, yes. And he believed it. With immense disgust, he took the intestines from the victim and smeared himself with the blood here and there to blend in among the dead. There was no doubt that his cadaverous appearance would serve him well. He then returned to a pile of less decomposed bodies and slid under two of them to be as well concealed as possible. And he prayed. Hoping he had made the right choice.

Seconds passed, then minutes. Minutes turned into an hour, then two. As Noah began to lose hope, he heard a truck nearby. The screech of tires sent shivers down his spine before a metallic noise followed. Seeing the moonlight, Noah realized it was an enormous garage door. Two men got out of the truck, and Noah reflexively closed his eyes. The truck began to reverse, accompanied by the repetitive beeping of the maneuver. When the truck stopped and the engine turned off, Noah, who was suffocating under the weight of the bodies and trying to take deep breaths to maximize the air in his system, now tried to do the opposite and calm his pounding heart.

He heard the distinctive sound of weights being unloaded from the back of a truck. It was a sound he would recognize anywhere since his time at the infected camp in his childhood. The load approached his pile, and Noah breathed as quietly as possible to avoid suspicion. Soon, the weight on his body became lighter. He was then freed from the second body, which was also loaded into the truck. Noah waited a few moments, his tension at its peak. Everything would go well. It had to.

— Hey?

A voice interrupted his concentration and began to make him panic. Had he been spotted?

— What now? came another voice, probably the other carrier.

— Don't you think this one looks really alive?

— You're annoying me, Brick.

— No, I swear! Come check this out.

Noah heard footsteps stop very close to him. He did his best to remain still. The other man sighed in annoyance.

— It's like last time. He looks fresher because the others have been here for days, even weeks! He (Noah felt a finger pointing at him) must have been dead only an hour, maybe two at most.

The other man gave a skeptical "Mmh" before countering.

— But still. Why would they put him under the other bodies instead of just tossing him?

— Stop with your questions! Keep this up and you'll be eating my fist! Now, help me lift him.

The other man dared not reply and grabbed Noah's legs, while the other took his wrists. His wrist! Noah felt a sharp pain in his forearm and let out a slight groan of pain, which, fortunately, did not reach the ears of the two carriers. He focused intensely on his weight. He had to become much heavier. A dead weight. A dead weight. As he felt himself being carried outside and the moonlight brushing his face, the man holding his legs stopped.

— Damn it, but I could swear he's grimacing!

— Shit! Move, Brick! the other man shouted.

Brick didn't need to be told twice, and they continued their way to the truck, where Noah was roughly thrown in before more corpses were added. It took them only ten more minutes to pack up and drive to the other end of the city. But in the meantime, Noah had seized the first opportunity to slip away. Alive.