The Undead Roommate

Chapter 7: Escape from Apartment 4B

"Total neutralization? That’s not a search warrant, Antang!" Kewin shouted over the roar of a tank engine shaking the building’s foundation.

"They are impatient," Antang replied, his voice calm despite the building literally tearing itself apart. He ripped a chunk of plaster from the wall, his fingers glowing with a fading violet light. "We need the notes. If we lose the math, we lose the map to the bunker."

"Forget the math! We need to move before the ceiling comes down on our heads!"

"Without the path, we are just running in circles," Antang insisted, frantically scratching symbols onto a scrap of Kevlar from his discarded uniform. "Take it. Hide it in your vest."

Kewin snatched the scrap, shoving it deep into his pocket. "Got it. Which way? The vents lead to the lobby, and that’s a kill zone."

"The service stairs. We cut through the trash chute room. It’s tight, but they won't suspect a flow of refuse."

"A trash chute? You’re joking."

"Do you prefer the fire?"

"Touché. Lead the way."

They scrambled out of the crawlspace and into the darkened corridor. Debris rained down like jagged confetti. The smell of burning rubber and ozone was suffocating. Kewin kept his tactical knife drawn, heart hammering against his ribs, while Antang moved with an uncanny, silent grace, his head cocking to the side every few seconds.

"Stop," Antang whispered, pressing Kewin against a cold, soot-covered wall.

"What? You hear something?"

"Three of them. Tactical gear. They’re standing at the landing, listening for us. They’re waiting for a heartbeat."

"How do you know that?"

"I can feel their adrenaline, Kewin. It’s like a humming wire in the air. Keep your breathing shallow. If your pulse spikes, they’ll lock onto you like a beacon."

Kewin squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force his heart to slow down. "This is insane. You’re like a radar dish."

"I am an iteration," Antang murmured, a strange, sad smile touching his gray lips. "And I don't want to lose my favorite capacitor."

"Keep flirting and I might just kiss you," Kewin retorted, though his hand trembled as he gripped his blade.

"That would be… highly inefficient. But distracting."

"Shut up. How do we get past them?"

"On my signal, you throw your supply bag into the opposite stairwell. It will make a sound. They will move to investigate. We go the other way."

"What about my food? My water?"

"You have the research. You don't need the beans."

"Fine. You better be right about this."

Kewin wound up and hurled the heavy bag into the stairwell. It hit the metal steps with a sickening clatter-bang that echoed like a siren.

"Movement! Level four! Check the landing!" a soldier’s voice boomed.

"Now!" Antang hissed.

They bolted, sliding across the slick, grime-coated floor. Kewin felt the hair on his arms stand up as a laser sight swept inches above his head. They ducked into the service room, the heavy steel door slamming shut behind them just as gunfire erupted in the stairwell.

"Close. Too close," Kewin panted, sliding down the wall.

"We are at the basement entrance," Antang said, leaning against the door. "But there is a blockade. Vehicles and floodlights. We are trapped."

"So, what's the plan? We go out guns blazing?"

"We don't have guns, Kewin."

"I have a knife."

Antang let out a dry, rattling laugh. "I have something better. But it will hurt you."

"Everything hurts lately. What is it?"

"I need to dump the energy in my core. All of it. It will create a kinetic pulse. It will scramble their equipment—and it will knock you unconscious. You’ll have to carry me after."

"You want to go full-blown nuke on me?"

"It’s the only way to blind their thermal sensors. Are you ready?"

"Wait, wait! If I’m unconscious, how do I get us out?"

"You won't. You’ll wake up in the van outside the perimeter. I’ve already calculated the blast radius."

Kewin grabbed Antang’s cold, stiff hand, feeling the hum of the core beneath his skin. "Promise me you’ll be there when I wake up."

"I am an attachment, Kewin. I don't go anywhere."

"You better not."

Antang stepped out into the basement parking lot. A dozen floodlights blinded them instantly. "Target! There! Open fire!"

Antang didn't flinch. He didn't run. He just looked at Kewin, his eyes burning with a blinding, terrifying white light. "Hold on to the memory, Kewin."

"Antang, wait—"

The creature arched his back, a soundless scream tearing through the air. A shockwave of pure, golden energy rippled outward, shattering the floodlights and turning the armored cars into hunks of dead, sparking metal. The world went black for Kewin, the last thing he saw being Antang collapsing into a heap of gray, broken flesh.

*

Kewin blinked, his head throbbing like it had been hit with a hammer. The air was cool and smelled of damp earth. He was lying in the back of a rusted cargo van, his tactical vest torn, his hands covered in dust."

"Antang?" he croaked, sitting up.

He scrambled to the back of the van, throwing the doors open. They were parked in a forest clearing, miles away from the city ruins. Antang was slumped against the side of the van, his skin pale and lifeless, the cavity in his chest completely dark.

"Antang, wake up. Hey, you piece of junk, wake up!"

Kewin shook the creature, but there was no response. He looked at the dashboard. A small, handwritten note was stuck to the steering wheel in Antang's jagged, efficient scrawl: THE LAB IS AT COORDINATES 44.2. DON'T LOOK BACK.

Kewin turned his head, staring at the tree line. High above, on the roof of a jagged, half-collapsed skyscraper in the distance, a figure stood motionless. The person was clad in a pristine, white hazmat suit, reflecting the moonlight like a ghost.

The figure raised a pair of binoculars, watching Kewin—and the silent corpse in the van—with clinical, terrifying interest.

Kewin grabbed his knife, his knuckles white. "You want him?" he whispered to the distant shadow. "Come and take him."