Bloodbank

Fourteen

Every muscle in my body froze, Nathan defensively moving ahead of me, shielding me from the figure.

"Step into the light," he said, stammering slightly. I could feel him shaking, my hand reaching his in fear. Assuming the worst instantly, my mind began searching for hints that the figure was Scott, and not Mason as my doubt had told me. There was no way that Scott could have fought off all of Mason's men, and now Mason had undoubtedly returned to take me back to the bank, and with Scott gone nobody would rescue me; Nathan couldn't have done it alone and he would be dead soon too and all the hope I had gained in the last hour was being wasted -

The figure stepped into the light.

And it was Scott.

Gasping, I stepped forwards, pushing past Nathan and flying into Scott's arms. I didn't know how he had made it out and at this point I was too overjoyed to question it. Scott's hand cradled my head, a tear slipping from my eye. Mason wasn't coming for me, and I would stay as far from the bank as possible. An anxious breath I had been holding in for months finally escaped my lips, and I relaxed into Scott's arms under the yellow streetlamp.

*******

Despite my aimless wandering, Scott quickly found his bearings and took us to the bunker. It didn't look like much initially: a worn out town house at the end of a dark street, the expansive desert next to it blowing sand into the cracks in the pavement. The door was ajar when we approached it, the inside of the house picked clean, the hallway flooring being only half there, the rest splintered and decaying. Piles of sand covered the stairs, which disappeared after the first flight, and scraps of material hung off the banisters. I tiptoed around the holes in the floor after Nathan, who nearly fell into the crawl space but recovered after grabbing an unstable radiator, reaching the kitchen, which looked even worse. Every cupboard was either doorless or open and completely empty, with what looked like a rats nest in the fridge. To my surprise, Nathan continued through the house to the back garden.

The garden itself was overgrown, a dilapidated shed at the very end of the narrow jungle looking more stable than the entirety of the house. A narrow line through the thick grass resembled a path, leading from the back of the house to the shed, past a tree that had long since fallen down, a child's swing still attached and rotting in the grass. 

Nathan reached the shed, and paused. The shed smelt different to the house, more metallic than wooden. It didn't have the same stale air of a life that had died long ago. Nathan slid aside a panel, revealing a keypad, and entered a code. The inconspicuously wooden door clicked open, revealing a thick layer of metal behind it, and a set of stone steps descending into darkness. Nathan lead the way, stepping down into the bunker, footsteps echoing. I followed, with Scott behind me, his hand on the small of my back possessively. The door clunked shut, fluorescent lights buzzing on.

Before Nathan even turned the lights on I knew the bunker would be identical to the one I lived in, save for the dead bodies and pools of blood. It was basic, essential. A room with a toilet in one end, a small, metal kitchenette with some cupboards. Another room leading to the cots. It felt like a prison, but after the Bloodbank, I'd never felt so free.

"I'm getting thirsty," Nathan muttered, stepping over to the kitchenette as if there would be blood in it. I offered up my wrist as Scott began to examine the bunker, I didn't know what for.

"No, no. Just some regular A positive or something," Nathan laughed, gently pushing my arm down to my side. I nodded.

"Ebony, go and get some rest," Scott nodded towards the bunk room, "I'll find some food and water for you by the time you've woken up."

I smiled in thanks, stepping through the familiar doorway and turning on the light. It smelled differently to the bunker I had stayed in, more musky and old, but the layout was exactly the same. Rows upon rows of bunk beds, thin mattresses and yellowed pillows.

"No blood," I heard Nathan's voice echo from the kitchen. I stepped forwards, looking through the bunks for the one I would sleep on. A few were mouldy, some stained with dark substances. Finally coming across a clean bed, I grabbed a second pillow from the adjacent bunk, and prepared to move the thin mattress onto my bed, double layering it.

But as I moved one corner of the light mattress aside, a woman's face peered up at me. 

I gasped, jumping out of my skin as a gut reaction, head slamming on the top bunk. Sharp pain welled tears in my eyes as the woman shook her head, finger pressed to her lips.

"Ebony? Are you all right?" Nathan asked from the other room, alerted by the noises.

"Yeah! I'm fine!" I called back, eye contact with the woman not wavering. I noticed a small 'A+' inked onto her neck, and I began to panic. She shook her head harder, tears falling from her eyes.

"Nathan, t-" I began to say, but stopped as I felt a presence beside me and a flash. Scott stood beside me, his cold hand on my head, which was turning red. I attempted to push the mattress back over the woman's face, but it merely drew attention to the desperate woman hiding there.

"What do we have here?" Scott smiled, grabbing her foot and pulling her out. She screamed.

"Scott, don't!" I pleaded, arms reaching out. 

But he had already snapped her neck.