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“Someone left in a hurry,” she said. “But at least they’re gone.”
“Good. I don’t like the idea of running into people anymore.” As we power-walked across the car park, I yanked up my hood, putting a barrier between my ears and the cold. “It smells weird out here.”
“Like death and eucalyptus.”
I pushed the main door open, and dim light glowed through a small window near the ceiling. Sinks and mirrors lined one wall, with six stalls opposite—the type of toilet block where the motion sensor lights usually came on as soon as you walked in, but nothing happened today.
The stall doors were all closed, each lock turned to vacant. Now we were inside, the smell was too strong to ignore. Dampness and decay, with a strange metallic layer underneath.
“I was wrong about being alone,” I whispered. “We could go back outside and find a tree to squat behind.”
Kirby propped the main door open with a rubber wedge the cleaners had left behind. “We’re here now. Might as well find an empty one and go for it.”
When she checked the first door, it opened all the way, and a breath left me in a rush. Gesturing for me to take it, Kirby moved along to the next stall.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “We can just take turns in this one.”
“It’s quicker this way.” She kept hold of her axe and pushed the second door, but it wouldn’t open all the way.
A thud came from the other side, and I made a grab for her too late. “Wait.”
Kirby stumbled backward as an infected woman launched from the opening with a strangled moan. Just as I went to intervene, a second infected emerged from the same stall.
Off balance, Kirby swung her axe, but she didn’t have enough room to make a solid connection. The blade wedged into the first woman’s shoulder, driving her back against the second infected.
She groaned and came at Kirby again, blade embedded in bone, saliva pooling in the corners of her mouth. With a loud curse, Kirby grabbed the woman’s jumper and spun her around, slamming her against the wall beside the sink.
“Keep clear.” I stepped up as she leaned back, half watching for the other infected as I pressed the nail gun to the woman’s forehead. When I fired, the crack that echoed off steel and concrete made us both wince.
The body dropped. My pulse spiked.
I turned just in time to avoid the other woman as she lunged. Before she could get hold of me, Kirby yanked her axe from the dead one on the floor and jammed the head against the second infected’s chest, shoving her against the panel between the two stall doors.
The woman’s milky eyes locked onto me, her mouth widening in an eerie wail. With the axe head keeping her contained, she clawed at the air and growled.
“Go,” Kirby snapped. “Right between the eyes.”
My ears were still ringing from the first shot when I shoved the woman’s head against the panel with my nail gun. One squeeze, another harsh crack, and her body sagged, collapsing on the floor.
In the sudden silence, we stared at each other and almost smiled. “That wasn’t quicker,” I said, catching my breath.
Kirby opened her mouth to speak just as Luke came rushing through the door with his pickaxe raised.
“Everything all right?” he asked, taking in the two women on the floor. “What happened?”
“Surprise guests,” I said, remembering the tyre marks on the ground. Whoever tore out of here must have left them behind.
“Shit.” He dragged a hand through his hair and looked us over. “Were you hurt?”
“We’re fine,” Kirby said, “but we still need to… you know.”
“Oh. Yeah. Got it.” His eyes moved over me again, a slow pass that made my skin tingle. He stared at me a moment longer, his jaw set. “Sure you’re okay?”
I nodded, giving him a small smile.
It must have been enough to satisfy him. He waited a beat longer, then left us alone.
As I entered the first stall and set the nail gun on the floor, Luke’s footsteps scuffed to a stop a few metres from the building, where he stood guard, just as he’d originally intended.
