Battle of Ash

Chapter 23

"I tell myself I have time. But the itch forming along
the back of my neck and across my shoulders says otherwise.
I hate this. It's like I'm racing a clock ticking down to doomsday
without knowing how much time I have left."
Erica Cameron

2017.08.17 08:44
The days were getting darker now. The sun had barely begun to rise in the dark, almost greenish sky when Ash and Dillon made their way with a small group of volunteers to the inner dome. A slight frost coated the walls of the dome, the designs inlaid with ice were intricate and beautiful. Ash longed to forget what they were about to do and trace the patterns with a fingertip. The groaning and growls were remarkably loud through the elevator shaft, vibrating and rumbling with an intensity Ash could only guess was caused by hunger.

They would have eaten the animals kept below long, long ago.

"They must be swarming the elevator." Dillon whispered, peering down the tunnel into the darkness, tentatively tapping a foot on the glass.

The sudden, loud roar of hail pummeling the dome made the group jump. The noise roused the infected below, their cries increasing. A flashback hit Ash like a sack of rocks. Acidic spit flying through the air, melting flesh; the sounds of people being ripped apart by their own bombs and comrades; the horror of the mutated parasite changing the infected victim into a completely different creature.

She looked to Dillon and saw a similar fear in his eyes, "You don't think they could have mutated too...?"

Dillon shrugged, ever his scientific self, "It's not entirely impossible. They've been locked up down here for nearly a year without outside contact. If anything they are the purest strain of the parasite we will ever come in contact with." He leaned over and peered down below again. "Evolving in the dark, alone... hungry. Can you imagine what about them is different compared to the others?"

"What are you two talking about?"

Ash shifted uncomfortably. They had hashed everything out the day before, holding the chiropractor, Mike, accountable for his devious actions; nearly excommunicating him. Dillon had spoken of the mutated infected as an example of what could be down below their feet- creatures they had not yet experienced or faced. And the numbers were unknown; possibly overwhelming.

"Do you think we should scavenge out some weapons? We could create some bombs or Molotov's or-"

"And risk losing everything in the dome? Risk blowing ourselves to smithereens?" The millionaire yelled, his jowls were slowly disappearing though still present enough to sweat and wobble as his face turned red with indignation, "You may not have the smarts to have graduated from Harvard, but you can't honestly be this incredibly stupid!"

As the arguing heightened Ash felt her heart sink to her toes. She missed her squad. She wondered, briefly, where Marcus and Pudge were. It then hit her that they were the only three left after the world fell.

If they were still 'left'.

She looked up at the squabbling men, now with fists entangled in shirts and spit flying from cursing mouths. Beneath them the infected roared louder, more intensely than before. A few of the female volunteers watched with the same disgust she felt. Belatedly she noticed that the storm outside must have died down; it was so quiet. She wondered what sort of wintery wonderland awaited outside their glass cage.

"Men." A woman sniffed, drawing Ash's attention back to the problem at hand.

The other woman looked into the pit. "You boys are making them hungry." She announced loudly.

It stopped the men for a moment. Until one decided to blame the other for being the reason the mess began. Ash sighed, looking up at the sky, trying to gather her strength.