Page 57 of Alien's Luck
Carla put a hand over her chest, checking that the flower blossom was still in place. One flower had enough oomph to keep Poppy from trying to eat her face, but was it enough for more?
Well, she had zero interest in being a zombie chew toy.
Carla grabbed an empty metal tray and crept forward. Aim for the head; that was what movies taught her.
A row of cages lined the far wall, each occupied by a person. The glow from a monitor cast barely enough light to make out the details. Wings. Tails. Waxy complexions drained of normal color. The shadows hid algae growth, but Carla knew it was there.
“Ari?” she whispered. She felt positive she’d recognize his shape even in the poor lighting, but better safe than sorry.
No response from any of the cage occupants.
Carla sat down at the monitor. The screen was filled with live feeds of various cages and rooms. She found the keyboard and tabbed through the feeds. The occupants’ eyes had a spooky glow from the combination of emergency lighting and low-resolution cameras. Some tried to escape, looking for a weakness in the cages. Some prowled their cages. The worst were the ones that sat motionless. Those were the ones completely lost.
There.
Carla paused. That was Ari. The camera angle was high, looking down as if he were in a pit or a hole.
Okay, good. Well, not good, but he was alive and somewhere nearby. She could work with that.
Tray in hand, Carla crept into the dark. She found the door that connected the lab with the area on the monitors. She hurried past the cages, the occupants not deterred by her flower at all. One blossom was not potent enough, or there wasn’t enough pollen. Poppy still seemed under control and not too ravenous for brains, but maybe that was a tired old zombie stereotype.
Cages gave way to isolated rooms. She peered into a window embedded into a door. A figure rushed the window, causing her to jump in surprise and drop the tray. Poppy did not like that.
“Sorry. Not that room,” she said, picking up the tray.
The third room was unoccupied, with a dark patch in the center of the floor. Bingo.
The power went out completely, plunging them into darkness.
Locks disengaged, and Carla really wanted to have a word with whoever thought electronic locks were good enough for a zombie holding pen.
Maybe… maybe the power would come back on. Zombies weren’t exactly the most aware of their surroundings; they might not even notice their cages were unlocked. Soon. The power had to come back on soon.
No such luck.
Somewhere nearby, a door opened slowly, the hinges creaking.
“You better be in this room,” she muttered, pushing open the door. She debated closing it, but she didn’t want to risk being locked in if the power came back.
In the dark, she shuffled forward, feeling each step with her toes, searching for a drop -off.
When she found it, she kneeled and felt for the edge with her hands. “Hello down there!” she called.
“Carla, you should not be here,” a familiar voice drifted upward. Relief and happiness surged through her as Ari’s voice echoed off the pit’s walls.
“Yeah, I know, but it’s complicated.” She paused; a groan and the sound of hands pawing at the door made her glance over her shoulder to the doorway. “Look, I’m coming down.”
“No. Do not come down here. I will come to you.”
There was a snarl and the sound of a large body slamming into another. Carla wanted to say that Poppy was protecting her, but it was probably just territorial instinct. The room was about to get crowded and bitey.
“Sorry, that’s not really an option,” she said, not bothering to hide the fear in her voice.
“I will come to you,” he repeated.
Something touched her. Carla screamed.
No time.
