Page 62 of Dating After the End of the World
“My shirt won’t hold you or provide enough resistance on the cables. You go first with the belt, and I’ll follow. But I’ll need you to try and catch me or at least soften my landing.”
I slip my bag on my back and look over my shoulder. They’re less than ten yards away.
“Go!” I say, panicked.
He nods, grips the belt, and jumps into the shaft. The leather squeals as it skids down the cable, stopping only when his boots thudagainst the top of the elevator. Blake thrusts his boot against the ceiling panel, busting it out.
He raises his arms above his head, looking up at me. “Come on, Casey.”
Gripping one sleeve, I lasso the sweater around the cable just like I did with the belt and catch the other sleeve with my opposite hand, looping it around itself. Closing my eyes, I yank it tight and take a couple of deep breaths, readying myself. Something grazes the back of my neck, giving me the motivation to leap. I scream, my hands gripping the sweater as I slide down the cable too fast. It feels like I’m free-falling. My boots hit hard against the elevator, but not as hard as they would have if it weren’t for Blake.
His arms are wrapped around me tightly, having caught my body to slow my descent. He lifts my chin with his hand, and I finally open my eyes, meeting his.
“I got you,” Blake says.
Before I can respond, a loud bang startles me, and the elevator shakes as something splats against it. I nearly lose my footing, but Blake holds me a little tighter. Lying a few feet from us, a biter writhes on its back, its legs snapped beneath the weight of its fall, its intestines spilling out from its torso. Blake grabs my hand, leading me toward the knocked-out ceiling panel, our passage into the empty elevator.
“Go,” he says, gripping both of my hands.
I nod several times, putting all my trust in him. He lowers me down into the elevator. Another body slams against the top of it, causing the whole thing to rock and his grip to give out. But I land on my feet.
“Hurry!” I call up to him as I unsheathe my knife and plunge it into the crack where the doors meet. Blake climbs down, dropping to his feet just as another biter smashes into the elevator, spraying rotten blood onto us. I twist my knife, creating a gap large enough for Blake to slip his hands in, one on top of the other, prying the doors apart.Biters continue to fall into the shaft, splatting against the ceiling above us. Each crash sounds like a gunshot.
We pass through the open elevator doors and are back on the first floor of the hospital. It’s surprisingly quiet, but that doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way.
“Come on,” I say, holding my knife out in front of me, keeping my eyes peeled in all directions.
Blake and I move with haste toward the exit, dodging the wreckage and rotting corpses to avoid drawing any more attention to ourselves. A biter squawks in the distance, and we keep going, sticking close to one another.
“Are you okay?” I whisper to Blake.
He glances over at me with fearful eyes and nods. I’ve never seen him scared before, and for some reason, all I want to do is be the one who makes him fearless. Up ahead, an exit sign glows a reddish hue. It’s our way out of this hellhole.
I accelerate my pace, pushing myself harder to reach the door first. I throw it open, and the sun’s bright rays enter my eyes all at once, forcing me to squint and look away. Blake crosses the threshold and slams the door closed behind him. We suck in big gulps of air, trying to catch our breath while scanning the back lot.
A high-pitched screech steals our attention. JJ and Greg push a gurney and a laundry canvas cart, each piled high with food and supplies across the parking lot. One of the wheels squeaks every few seconds or so, finally quieting when they reach the truck bed.
The door we just came through bursts open behind us. Dozens of biters spill out.
“Blake, go,” I say, shoving him forward.
I’m on his heels, screaming for JJ and Greg.
They pause loading supplies and look to us. Realizing what we’re up against, they each grab an end of the gurney and toss the whole thing into the truck bed, followed by the laundry cart. Greg closes the tailgate and races around the side, hopping in the front. JJ pullsthe back passenger door open and gets into the driver’s seat, starting the engine.
“Come on,” I say, pushing myself to run faster. Blake lags a little behind me, and I fear he’ll stop altogether, so I slow down to ensure I’m in lockstep with him. I won’t leave him behind, and I won’t let him stay behind either.
I reach the truck first and climb in, moving to the opposite side so Blake has room to jump in.
“Hurry!” Greg’s voice is full of panic.
Blake practically vaults into the vehicle.
“Go! Go! Go!” he yells, yanking the door closed behind him, snapping off a biter’s arm in it. JJ slams his foot on the gas pedal. Tires squeal as we peel out of the lot.
Greg turns back in his seat, raising a brow. “What the hell were you two doing in there?”
I look down at myself, realizing I’m only wearing a sports bra on top because my shirt is hanging from an elevator cable.
