Dog Blood

you’re left standing at the end of all of this, well done. If you’re not, then that’s too bad. This is way bigger than any of us.”
    With that Julia walks away and leaves me alone on the roof. I watch her go, feeling like I’ve just shut myself away with a group of kamikaze cult members.

vii

MARK HAD TO FIND more food. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he didn’t. Impossible choices would have to be made. How could it have come to this? Kate had to eat, she was his obvious priority, but who next? Gurmit Singh could go to hell as far as he was concerned, but what about Kate’s parents? Her dad was in his late seventies, her mom not much younger… could they really justify wasting precious supplies on them at their age? Christ, what was he thinking? Leaving them to starve? He himself needed to eat because he couldn’t stand the thought of Katie and their child trying to survive in this nightmare world without him. Then there was Lizzie. What was her position in the pecking order? As for that thing she kept tied up in the bathroom… Mark cursed the day he’d agreed to let her stay with them.
    The hotel room diagonally opposite 33 was empty. He’d heard noises there a while earlier and had watched through the peephole in his door as the occupants had fled. He wasn’t sure exactly what had happened; someone cracking under the pressure of this impossible situation and being hunted down as a Hater, he guessed. The soldiers hadn’t come to investigate (they never did anymore), and there were at least two bodies still in the room, but he didn’t care. As soon as he’d seen the rest of them thunder down the stairs in panic, he’d known he’d have a couple of minutes to get in there, strip out anything of value, then get out before other refugees claimed the precious space.
    Mark felt like an amateur forensics investigator trying to piece together a murder scene as he stood in the small room and stepped over the first corpse. It was a mirror image of the room where he and the others were living. A woman lay on the floor, her face pallid and gray, savage welts, bruises, and scratches covering her neck. In the opposite corner, a man who he’d assumed was either her partner or her brother sat slumped with blood pouring out of razor slashes across his throat and wrists. The cuts were still dripping. He was the one who’d snapped, Mark assumed. Looked like he’d taken his sudden aggression out on the woman, then killed himself with regret. Another pointless waste of lives.
    No time for sentimentality. He began searching for food, looking in the corresponding hiding places to those he used himself in the room across the hall. There were a few scraps; nothing much, but it was better than going back empty-handed. At least he’d be able to-
    A piercing scream cut through the uneasy silence. He knew immediately that it was coming from room 33. He grabbed the food and ran, tripping over the outstretched legs of the dead woman as he frantically sprinted back. He already knew what was happening. He could hear her. She was loose.
    Mark reached for the door and pushed it at the exact same moment Gurmit Singh pulled it open from the other side. In a single movement he raced into the room, dragging Singh back inside and kicking the door shut behind him. He couldn’t risk him getting out and telling anyone what they were keeping in here, not that they’d be able to understand him anyway.
    The kid was on the bed, naked but for a dirty gray undershirt, her wrists still bound together with a plastic tie but her legs free. Her tiny hands were wrapped around Kate’s father’s throat, and she was repeatedly yanking his head up, then slamming him back against the wooden headboard. Kate and Lizzie both tried to pull her off the old man, but she refused to let go, her small but strong clawlike fingers digging into his skin and holding on. Mark pushed them both aside and wrapped his arms around the little Hater’s waist. He backed away from the bed, dragging both the girl and the old man with him. Lizzie pried her daughter’s fingers off Kate’s father’s scrawny neck, then shoved him back up onto the mattress. Behind her Kate’s mother screamed, a constant, vile, eardrum-piercing, high-pitched wail of absolute terror and bewilderment.
    “What the hell happened?” Mark asked between grunts of effort as he struggled to hold on to Ellis. He wrapped his arms tighter around her chest, restricting her