A World Reborn: The First Outbreak (22 page)

Melissa looked down at Sebastian and saw
him clutching his face. The stun grenade seemed to have set fire to his mask,
which he’d pulled off, and his face had been partially burnt around his lower
jaw. She saw his blonde hair, his, oddly kind, blue eyes and felt an involuntary
pang of pity. She shook herself mentally; he had no pity for the people who had
been slain or turned. Although the blast had been absorbed somewhat by his
armour, his legs had caught some shrapnel when the grenade exploded; they were
bloody and he squirmed in pain. Melissa wasn’t sure what to do about him, but
didn’t get a chance to do anything, as she heard hurried footsteps coming down
the stage stairs across from her. She raised her weapon, waiting either for a
target or a hostage who had broken free. As soon as she saw the barrel of a
rifle, she quickly backed up towards the cover of the doorway, took aim and
waited to fire. The Reborn soldier swung out low to the ground and Melissa
fired at him, squeezing off three, quick shots that hit his body armour. The
soldier grunted, winced and then went back into cover. Diagonally to the left,
out of the corner of her eye, Melissa saw another soldier leaning out from what
could only be another set of stairs that led down from the stage’s other side.
She pulled back just as a volley of gunfire would have shredded her where she
stood. Melissa repositioned around the corner of the doorway in the dressing
room, crouching low before edging out and firing at the wall of the staircase
on the right. This way, she hoped to keep the soldier there in cover and enable
her to draw out the one on the left. She squeezed off a series of shots, and
then leaned further out to scan left. This was the first time she was exposed
to him from this position, and she saw him aiming straight at her. Melissa
swiftly recoiled backwards to narrowly avoided being hit. As she began to edge
out again, she saw the soldier across from her darting out of cover, forcing
Melissa to retreat once more. He fired at her, and the bullets blasted chunks
off the doorframe.

Melissa waited for a break in the gunfire
and then instantly leaned out and returned fire to the Reborn ahead of her. She
knew the one on the left would most likely have advanced, taking up another
position somewhere closer, and so decided to take a risk and try to eliminate
one of them. She moved back slightly, making it seem as if she’d retreated back
around the corner, then lined up her shot and waited for the Reborn ahead to
reappear. A few seconds later, he stepped out, still crouched down, with his
head right in Melissa’s sight. She fired quickly and without mercy, the wall
behind him turning crimson as he dropped, slumping to the floor with a leaking,
bloody hole in his skull.

With only one Reborn remaining, Melissa
knew she needed to find out where he was. She took a deep breath, and with her
heart racing, leaned out and back in quickly; bullets slammed into the
doorframe around her. He was behind an overturned table not far behind the
bodies of the trio she’d already slain. Needing a distraction, Melissa looked
around and saw the dressing room mirror lights behind her had large, heavy
bulbs, providing the very tool for the diversion she needed. She quickly
hurried over to it, grabbed a facecloth still stained with someone’s makeup,
and unscrewed one of the bulbs. It was very hot, but she was convinced it would
work; at least, it had worked in a movie she’d seen once. She reasoned she had
nothing to lose and everything to gain by trying. Returning to the
bullet-marred doorway, she braced herself then edged out slightly, not enough
to be visible, but enough so that she could roughly see the mid-point of the room.
She threw the bulb as though it were a grenade, hoping the Reborn would think
she had another stun grenade or something more deadly. She dropped the cloth
and pulled up her weapon again, hearing the bulb break against the wall, and
then leaned out. The soldier was tucked into cover, his back barely visible
behind the table he was using to hide behind, and Melissa felt certain he’d
bought her ruse and was waiting for a blast that was never going to come. She
raised her weapon, aiming right in his direction, and as he popped up out of
cover, she executed him with a single, clean shot to the head. He dropped down
behind the table and she took a soundless breath, silently waiting to see if
more Reborn were coming down the stairs or were about to appear through any of
the doors. However, it seemed she was in the clear, for now at least.

Melissa lowered her weapon and went over to
Sebastian, kneeling down beside him. He groaned and was seemingly close to
slipping into unconsciousness. He was going into shock, most likely, and if he
slept, he might not wake. Melissa was hoping for some more information from him
before that happened.

“You’re probably going to die, Sebastian.”
She said softly. His eyes locked onto hers and he winced as a raspy,
nonsensical sound escaped his lips. Figuring he was trying to speak, Melissa
leaned in closer to him.

“It... is... an honour.” Sebastian got out.
Melissa took a deep breath before speaking again.

“I bet it is, for you. But it wasn’t for
all the people you’ve killed, and it won’t be for all the people I’m sure your
people are planning on killing.”

“Irrelevant.” Sebastian mumbled, his eyes
beginning to shut. She slapped his face, bringing him back.

“Not yet.” She insisted sternly. “Tell me,
where is she? Where’s the Ancillary?”

“Preparing to... leave.”

Melissa thought about what he said for a
second, which led her to assume she was planning on leaving via the helicopter
they’d arrived on earlier in the night.

“She’s on the roof?”

“Or near to it.” Sebastian weakly
commented.

“Why are you telling me?” Melissa asked
suspiciously. “Is it a trap?”

“No... trap.” Sebastian murmured, his eyes
beginning to close again. “Just where you need... to... go. It’s what the...
Teacher... wills...” Sebastian said, his words drifting off as his eyes shut.

Melissa didn’t want anything else from him,
and briefly considered what to do. He was dying, and as soon as he did, the
little device on his chest would inject him with the virus and turn him into
one of the infected. Melissa knew she shouldn’t let that happen, not just
because being one of them was a particularly cruel fate, but also because if he
died and turned while she was hurrying the hostages out towards the security
room, she risked him biting one of them, then things would really go to hell
fast. Standing up, and feeling an odd sense of guilt for thinking about
shooting an unarmed, injured, and defenceless person, Melissa raised her
weapon. Convincing herself it was a mercy shot she was giving him, like the one
she’d given to Jim, Melissa raised the barrel of the gun in line with his head
and squeezed the trigger. Sebastian drew breath no more.

Melissa ejected the clip from her rifle,
retrieved her last remaining one, and slammed it into the weapon. Then she set
about quickly looting the bodies of the other soldiers. She retrieved a number
of extra spare clips, for both the rifle and pistol, and then stepped back into
the utility corridor, picking up the tablet Sebastian had been carrying.
Although the screen had been cracked a little, it still worked. She didn’t have
time to use it now, so she returned to Sebastian’s body and took a pouch hanging
from his waist that seemed the right size to store it. She slipped the tablet
inside and zipped it up; attaching the pouch to her own belt. Rearmed, reloaded
and ready to advance, Melissa cautiously approached the right-hand staircase
and carefully looked around and up the stairs. The path was clear, and at the
top of the stairs, there seemed to be a small, very dimly lit chamber. It was,
in Melissa’s inexpert opinion, an excellent place for an ambush, but there was
no other way she could presently see to get up there. Cautiously, and with
weapon raised, Melissa advanced up the stairs one by one, treading lightly,
thereby attracting no attention to give her position away.

Once at the top, Melissa realized she was
in another part of the backstage section. A coloured curtain ahead prevented
her from seeing onto the stage. On one side of the darkened room she could see
a metal framed staircase that lead up to the catwalk which would allow
maintenance to be carried out on the stage lights. The sound of gunfire was
louder up here, and Melissa imagined it was the sound of the Reborn battling
against the infected outside the theatre. She was, however, quite certain the
gunfire was more scattered now. Melissa approached the curtain and braced
herself for the unexpected, then reached out with one hand to part it in the
middle. She did it carefully; aware there could be more soldiers on the other
side just waiting for her to step through and not wanting to give any warning
of her approach. What she saw made her relax a little. She saw two or three
dozen hostages corralled in the centre of the stage. They were alive: unharmed
though they seemed to have their wrists bound. They hadn’t noticed her as they
were looking towards the edge of the stage.  Melissa could only see a pair of
shadows away from the group of hostages, presumably Reborn.

“The infected have overrun our position!”
Someone called from further away, a long way away, and Melissa guessed this was
someone shouting from near the entrance doors.

“And the Witness has been engaged
downstairs. The time has come, brothers, we must execute the hostages. Return
outside, keep the infected at bay as long as you are able while we set about
our task.” One of the Reborn on the stage answered.

Melissa didn’t have a moment to wait. She
burst through the curtain as fast as she could, and shot the closest Reborn
soldier in the back of the head. As he fell and his companion on Melissa’s left
turned - attempting to raise his weapon to gun her down - Melissa was able to
get a bead on him and fired. She missed the headshot and clipped the side of
his jaw, making him roar in pain, but she fired again and again, hitting his
upper chest body armour and finally putting a round through his throat.
Clutching his neck, the soldier tumbled off the stage, his weapon dropping onto
the boards. Aiming out into the gloom of the seats, Melissa tried to get a bead
on the Reborn soldier who had been down there, but it seemed he had already run
away.

The hostages, huddled together, afraid and
whimpering, slowly began to look up at Melissa. She slung the rifle to her side
on its strap and pulled out her knife, approaching the hostages with one hand
raised palm up.

“I’m Melissa Jones and I’m working with the
hotel Chief of Security. I’m here to free you and lead you to the elevator that
will take you down to the security room. It’s safe there, both from the
infected and the Reborn soldiers. You can stay down there until the police
arrive.” She explained. Some of the hostages looked sceptically at her, while
others looked relieved. As she used the knife to cut through the first binding
on someone’s wrists, she heard a voice she vaguely recognised.

“Melissa! Melissa!” He called anxiously,
and scanning through the sea of faces, she found the man repeating her name. It
was Roberto, the pool assistant she’d met earlier that day, or rather,
yesterday.

“Roberto!” Melissa replied, surprised to
see he was still alive.

“Have you seen my sister? Have you seen
Maria? She’s not here and she wasn’t with the other group they escorted away
earlier!”

Melissa thought back to the broken, gnawed
upon housekeeper she’d seen earlier, with the bloodied named tag that read
Maria, and although it was possible there was another Maria who worked in
housekeeping, she felt a cold certainty flood through her that she had been
Roberto’s Maria. Added to that, the Reborn had swept through the hotel
thoroughly, so if she wasn’t here, then it seemed likely that she was indeed
dead. But Melissa didn’t want to admit the full extent of his sister’s demise,
so she looked away from him, focusing on slicing the plastic tie on another
hostage’s wrists.

“I’m sorry, Roberto, but she didn’t make
it.”

“Oh God. My uncle and my sister.” He
whispered. When she forced herself to look at his face, she saw his eyes were
filled with tears and he wore a vacant, lost look on his face.

“Have you seen my husband? They took him
away earlier with the others?” One woman asked, following her question with a
description.

“My son! Have you seen my son?” Another
woman quizzed. Slowly, people began to clamour at Melissa to give them news of
their loved ones. Melissa couldn’t deal with it. She didn’t have the heart to
tell them they were either infected or had been eaten alive, never to be seen
again.

“I don’t know, people. I honestly don’t
know. All I do know is that the Chief wants you down with him, safe, so that we
can look for other survivors!” She yelled over the din. Melissa rationalised
that lying to them was necessary; she needed them to be obedient and mobile,
not tearing off to look for loved ones with the infected on the loose. As she
sliced their bonds, she heard a low, guttural growl, and the second Reborn
soldier Melissa had shot reached up onto the stage. She cursed herself for not
thinking of ensuring she’d put him down, and quickly handed off the knife to
one of the hostages.

“Keep cutting!” She instructed curtly
before hurrying over to where the infected soldier was trying desperately to
climb up. People screamed and panicked behind Melissa, but she calmly brought
the assault rifle to bear and slotted a single shot into his forehead.
Frightened screams erupted behind her but Melissa’s attention was drawn out
into the theatre. Across the sea of seats, some soaked in blood others housing
the remains of people caught by the infected, to the exit doors. Maybe it was
the gunfire, maybe it was the smell of uninfected flesh, the why didn’t matter;
what mattered was they were now being pushed open and through them, ten,
twelve, then twenty infected were shambling in. Melissa ground her teeth, and
then shot a look towards the hostages.