Page 83 of No Man's Land

Josef stopped breathing; the walls were closing in, the roof collapsing. All their options shutting down. Fists clenched in his hair, he screamed in silent, wordless despair.

Alex grabbed his leg. “Joe...” With the torch discarded on the floor, all he could see of Alex were those cursed eyes. “It’s time.”

Staring at him, Josef shook his head. “No.” His voice sounded like rust.

“I can’t walk,” Alex ground out. “I can’t escape.”

“But I have the blood!”

“Too late.” Alex’s eyes closed, then opened again. “Please. You promised.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have!”

Alex stretched his arm out, fumbling for the gun which lay next to the torch. “Then give it to me. I’ll do it myself.”

“No!” Josef snatched it up, backing away. “Fuck, Alex, no. We have the blood; we cancureyou!”

“There’s no time!” Alex shouted, breaking off into another cry of pain.

“Fuck that.” Stuffing the weapon back into his belt, Josef started dragging the semi-conscious ghoul off Alex.

Josef was hurting him, he knew, but it was betterthan letting him die. Or killing him. When Alex was free, Josef grabbed the torch to examine his leg. The broken one was obvious; a bloody rent in Alex’s trousers revealed the tip of a bone poking through his skin, just below the right knee.

Half sitting up, Alex took one look and collapsed back down. “Christ,” he said thinly.

“All the stuff you’ve seen, and that makes you faint?”

“Just give me the fucking gun,” Alex growled.

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“I can’t move!”

“You’ve got one good leg,” Josef said. “Use it.”

With a great deal of struggle, Josef got Alex upright, one arm around his shoulders. He tried not to think of how far they had to walk.

At the foot of the stairs, the ghoul gave a low hiss, apparently waking up. “Come on,” Josef hissed, pulling Alex towards the door.

They moved agonisingly slowly. Literally, in Alex’s case. He couldn’t put any weight on his broken leg, having to hop, his breathing very fast and leaning more and more heavily against Josef. He wasn’t a small man, either. Taller than Josef, broader. Heavier.

They stumbled out of the stairwell and into the corridor beyond, shutting the door. There was nothing to wedge it shutwith—it didn’t even have a lock—and the corridor ahead looked endless.

“Joe,” Alex said urgently, and then twisted away and threw up.

The pain, Josef knew. Shock.

It was hopeless, he saw that now. Couldn’t deny it as he tried, as gently as he could, to help Alex to the ground, resting his back against the corridor wall. He sat there, very still, face damp with cold sweat and breathing slow, controlled breaths. In the torchlight, his skin glistened corpse white.

Throat thick, eyes blurring, Josef said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

Without opening his eyes, Alex said, “Yes, you do.”

The gun in his waistband felt like a live thing, like a grenade with its pin pulled.

“Please,” Alex said softly. “While there’s still time.”

Josef’s heart pounded slow and heavy, every beat a moment lost. His fingers closed around the grip of the gun, and with a shaking hand, he pulled it free.

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