Judgment Day: Part 9
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Molly stepped away from him. She was sobbing, tears rolling down her face. She looked to be a few seconds away from hysteria, which was just about the point he had reached.
“Come on,” Daryl grabbed her hand and ran towards the road. He led her through the cars, their engines idling and headlights skewing into the night all around them. The drivers were slumped over the steering wheels, or lying on the road. Some cars were empty, though. The doors leaning open and no sign of the occupants nearby. The little girl’s voice from the subway played in his mind: We’re not alone.
He leapt over the low concrete fence separating the road from the sidewalk and helped Molly step over it. Her short skirt, wet against her thighs, rode up. Her small breasts pressed against her blouse, hard nipples visible through the wet fabric. He paused, staring at her, that terrible animal force that had allowed him to kill still chattering through his tired, shocked, smoke-filled head. The blood of some zombie creature covered his hands, the world was dead, the people he had led out of the tunnel lay broken on the ground, and he could think of nothing now but the body of the girl standing in front of him. Shuddering, he closed her eyes. When he looked again, she glared back knowingly, arms covering her breasts, but her gaze broke immediately.
“I can’t believe any of this is happening.” He muttered, then he turned and they both moved onto the ground floor of the parking garage, the yellow security lights tried to chase away the night, but only succeeded in making their own, ominous shadows.
The six story garage serving the Metro commuters felt like it had been frozen right along with rush hour. The lights gathered mist, and the field of parked cars waited patiently to be claimed by their dead owners. It had been an ordinary work day, so the place was at near-full occupancy. Each car gave off an unsettling vibe, as if it were plugged directly into their owners wherever they may be.
Daryl walked quickly towards the elevator door and punched the button, stepping back suspiciously as the doors slid open without a pause.
The elevator car gleamed, like some sort of spaceship that could take them away from this. Molly Hesitated as he started to step into the well-let box, looking around. Without thinking about it, Daryl pulled her in and threw her against the far wall. She gasped as she hit the back of the car, bracing herself against the walls and staring at Daryl with wide, frightened eyes, but his mind was a clouded menagerie of terror, the visions of those empty cars on the street dancing through him. Where were the drivers? Wandering the streets? Crouched in the shadows, the bushes, behind the cars? Watching their every move, waiting for the right time to strike? Maybe they were being cautious, having watched him kill one of their own. He shook his head, looked at Molly and wondered how to communicate with her, then he hit the button for the sixth level. The doors slid shut and the large elevator began to labor upward.
“Where are we going?” Molly asked.
“Up,” Daryl replied. She rolled her eyes when he answered, whatever tension he had created breaking. But he didn’t feel it. His body was shaking from a numbing cold that seemed to rush through his limbs.
“You together, man?” Molly asked.
He swallowed, nodded, and she relaxed. Her eyes were red from crying and she breathed in ragged gasps, but her shuddering hands against his shoulder felt better than anything had ever felt before. Human contact seemed to ground him and bring him back to a sort of focus.
“Okay,” she said “Why the garage? Are we safe here? Are we going to take a car?”
He didn’t have an answer for her. He wasn’t sure he could put the words together for an answer.