Them or Us

Jesus, Danny, if millions of us were wiped out by your kind, what chance do less than thirty of us have?”
    “No chance at all,” I tell him, keeping my voice low so that Jake doesn’t hear.
    “We’ve been down here for months. We’re weak and we’re tired and we know that everything’s stacked against us, but we’re not just going to give up.”
    “You’ve got weapons, and it’s chaos up there. You might still have a slight chance.”
    “We’ve got a handful of guns,” he corrects me, “but we’ve just used most of our ammunition saving your backside.”
    “Then maybe you shouldn’t have bothered.”
    “Maybe you’re right,” he says angrily. “Okay, I’ll rephrase that. We just used up half our ammunition helping Peter Sutton and saving the life of those two kids. Anyway, whatever we did and whatever we did it for, we need your help now. We’ve hardly got any supplies left. We’ll starve if we don’t—”
    “You want supplies? I can tell you where to find supplies, but I’m not—”
    “Listen, those fuckers up there are going to come back, Danny. Dean says at least one of them got away, and there are still bodies out there, remember? They’ve seen us. They saw Dean and they know we’re here. Even if they can’t get into the bunker, they’ll be waiting for us when we eventually come out. You think they’re just going to forget about us? Forget about you?”
    “I’m nothing to them.”
    “That’s not what I’d heard. That’s not what Peter told me.”
    “With all due respect, maybe you shouldn’t have listened to everything Peter said.”
    “He was a good man. He kept us alive, and I trusted him.”
    “You call this living? Look around, Joseph. This place is no different from the mass graves I saw outside the gas chambers. You’re all just waiting to die.”
    “What about you?”
    “Me, too. You’ll probably all outlast me. I don’t have long left.”
    “So why let it end this way? Do something with the little time you have, Danny. After all you came through to get here, how hard you fought to find your daughter, the things you managed to survive … I can’t believe you’re talking like this now.”
    “Sorry if I’ve let you down,” I sneer, concentrating on another sudden cramping pain in my gut rather than anything Mallon has to say.
    “It’s not just me, though, is it?” he continues, not giving up on the guilt trip. “It’s the rest of them. It’s everyone down here. You’re our last chance.”
    “That’s bullshit.”
    “Is it? Way I see it, even if everything else has fallen apart up there, you can still help us. You, me, and everyone else down here, we might be all there is left now.”

 
    45
    AN HOUR PASSES, MAYBE longer. The pain gradually subsides as long as I stay still, but I know the bastard who attacked me aboveground has done some serious damage to my already seriously damaged insides. The temporary relief the drugs gave me from the pain is definitely over. I can feel my body giving up and breaking down.
    The Unchanged have left me alone in here. I don’t know whether they’re maintaining a respectful distance from the dead and dying (my only company is Peter Sutton’s corpse) or if they’re just afraid of me.
    The door to the corridor that leads down into the main part of the bunker is open, and I can hear Joseph talking, addressing the group. Christ alone knows what he’s telling them. My guess is he’s trying to get them ready to leave, but doesn’t the dumb bastard realize what it’s like up there now? Surely Sutton would have told him? These people are almost certainly the last Unchanged left alive, and as soon as they put their heads above the surface they’ll be hunted down and killed. They might last a few hours or days, maybe a week if they’re lucky, but sooner or later they’ll be destroyed. Their fates are as certain as mine. Poor fuckers. My mind—tired and confused—fills with baseless, nightmare images of the girl Chloe being tracked and killed by my dead daughter Ellis.
    The voices down the corridor are becoming raised, and I try to sit up to listen closer. The pain in my gut is too severe, and I have to lie back down and stretch out again. I roll over onto my front and gradually manage to lift myself up onto all fours, then slowly climb the wall until I’m standing up straight. I edge toward the door, then take a few unsteady steps farther down the sloping corridor, dragging my heavy feet. By the time