Chapter 8
I was watching the stairwell from down the hall, searching for anything that might be of use. Of course, I found nothing that I hadnt already run into. Which was to say, I was stuck.
I was understandably hesitant to try the only course of action that might have some merit. To use myself as a distraction, to sacrifice the clones for the original. It was the only thing that kept coming to mind, that wasnt immediately rejected.nove(l)bi(n.)com
The thought of dyingit was paralyzing. Too much had happened that my mental health was hanging on a thread. The strange side effect of multiple mes mitigating some parts of that trauma.
Third spoke as an echo of my own thoughts. Its this or true death. He said. The line between me and my clones blurred again. This time, it was like watching someone else. Fearless in the assurance of the originals survival.
Well, as fearless as I could manage.
A white-knuckled grip to match the thick strands surrounding the stairwell. I kept the weapon pointed down the stairs, touching one of the strands. It stuck to me like slime, pulling me until finally tearing silently.
Too much of those and Id be bogged down.
I passed through the stairwell, checked below, and was greeted with an empty hallway covered in webs. The light was still on, blinking ominously. Working electricity. The building had its own generators and batteries. Come to think of it, that was why there was fresh water too. There was a water tank on the back of building.
None of that helped me. It just distracted me from the fear. I picked my way through the webs, some thick across the hallway, others lying on the floor, some hanging from the ceiling. They were all gently waving and I realized there was a draft through the cave.
I froze as I remembered the last time I felt that.
I whirled aroundand found nothing. No sign of the monster that had been my undoing. My gun was shaking almost as much as my legs. I forced myself onward, clearing the hall. I didnt dare round the corner, it was too much.
Instead, I kept my gun pointed down the hallway as the laboratory began to open. Second greeted me, glancing towards my back, his face was a bleeding mess. A reminder of what this world had done to me, forced me to endure.
Then came Horace and finally
The dull thud of a body hitting the floor might as well have been a blaring siren. All of me turned, Second from the rear, Third from the front, and the original from the doorway. Horace had fallen over, eyes wide and staring at the webbing caught on his good leg.
On the other end of the hallwaylegs. They came around the corner like fingers grabbing onto a ledge, slow and methodical as if suddenly roused.
All of me realized it at the same time.
Run!
I bolted down the hallway, maneuvering through the webs I already knew were there. The original me, though heartless, was the number one priority. Second helped Horace up, half-lifting him and half-dragging him.
No.
Youre free, Evahn, I said to myself, alone now. Just fucking go. My voice cracked. Just leave him, you dont owe him anything.
Even when I could do it with no risk? When I could just send myself to haul him up? The thing was probably dead now. And if not?
No risk but my mental health. Second spoke as I shuffled away from him.
I killed it right? I asked him. Hoping, by some miracle, I could lie to myself.
Third answered. I dont know.
And that was the worst part. I didnt know. I didnt want to die again. To watch myselfto feelI threw up, dry heaving, chest twisting. I hunched over the floor, hands splayed.
I glanced over to myselves. They looked as terrible as I did. Drained, eyes faded, pale. That wasnt how I remembered myself. I looked like like death.
We sat there for minutes on end. It felt like hours. Contemplating, weighing, warring with myself. Cursing my cowardice, hating this apocalypse, dancing around an answer I both cursed and hated more.
And then, eventually, my clones stood up and started making their way to the science building. Two versions of myself that knew they were expendable. It didnt stop the fear of death.
They went down the stairwell, freezing at a weak keening noiseit was alive. It came into view and, above, I threw up again.
Half-mangled, melted, riddled with bullet holes, it was eating a lifeless Horace. Hed been stabbed once through the leg, another time through the heart.
That anger came back. The cruelty of this world, the horror. Rage. A flame so bright it burned in my chest, so bright that it hurt. The color red lined my vision and suddenly, I didnt care anymore.
I launched myself at the weakened thing and tore at its face, bare hands ripping away eyes as it jerked back in pain. Nails scraping flesh and blood. I plunged an entire arm into the exposed socket, fingers ripping and tearing at anything and everything I could feel. My other arm pulled at its other eyes.
Its scythe-like legs tore into my own. I ignored it, feeling the deep wounds color with blood.
The other me screamed, cracking its skull with a crowbar, sending it heavily to the floor. Blood leaked on the ground and its mouth opened with a fleshy squelch. I couldn't say when I stopped tearing at the corpse, when I'd had enough.
I stood over the mutilated carcass and I realized something that tore at my soul.
I couldve saved him, I breathed, broken.