Aino led them between two buildings, out of the way of any obvious doors or windows. Nurse Dagmar was breathing heavily, gulping big breaths. She collapsed when they stopped, her knees giving way to her terror and exertion. She buried her face in her hands.
“Ai, what now?” he asked. Aino checked her gun and reloaded it. She squatted down at eye level with the nurse.
“Is this place good?” she asked the nurse, her voice as level.
The nurse’s lower lip trembled as she tried to speak, the tears in her eyes streaming down her cheeks.
“I-I-I…y-yes. As-as…” she sobbed, “As good as…any.”
“Hey, Aino, I don’t think we should bother her anymore. Let’s just get out of here,” Eien said, feeling a pang of sympathy for the poor nurse who had tried to help them.
Aino stared at her. Then she reached out her hand, placing it on the side of Nurse Dagmar’s head, as if she was caressing her cheek.
Was…was Aino comforting her? Eien felt an uneasiness rise in his chest. How sick was it that such a human gesture seemed at odds with Aino’s personality that it caused him more anxiety?
Aino unclipped her club, brought it up, and cracked it against Nurse Dagmar’s skull. Eien saw the light fade from her eyes, the emptiness reflecting the emptiness of life. Her hands fell to her sides, no longer clasped together. She slumped. Blood dribbled down the right side of her face. Bits of brain clung to the shards of skull.
Aino hit her again, completely smashing her jaw and eye sockets.
Eien couldn’t help himself.
He vomited.
“What…” His eyes filled with tears, “Aino, no!” He didn’t want to make too much noise. He didn’t want to cry. Why?
Aino shoved her fingers into the broken eye sockets, pulling out one orb at a time, strings of red roots dangling. She held both orbs in her hands, turning them over in the dim light. The eyes rolled around, glancing at Eien, and he shuddered, feeling weakness start to overtake him.
The nurse’s head fell backwards, hitting the dirt, awkwardly bent at the neck. Her fingers curled upwards, hands softened and loose. Her face was bent inwards, destroyed, decimated. The bright clothing from the hospital was grey with the dirt. Her knees bent carelessly to the sides, unnaturally splayed.
Aino pocketed both eyeballs and wiped the club clean with the fabric from the nurse’s clothing. The red streak ran down the front of the nurse’s white shirt, like she had merely suffered a bad nosebleed, and it ran down.
Aino walked off, and Eien could barely bring himself to lift his feet to follow her. Follow her. Why was he following her again?
It was dreamlike, the path she led him on. People were there and not there. Buildings seemed to move by themselves. The streetlamps all looked the same. The black windows looked the same. The wide doors looked the same. In between each building, Eien swore he saw the limp body of the woman, looking once, twice, three times.
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Did they walk for hours? Minutes? Seconds?
Aino knocked on a small door next to a large pile of dirt and then opened the door. Light like the sun blinded Eien, causing him to squint and look at the floor. Clean, white tile.
It was similar to the atrium of the hospital, but it opened up to more of a hallway with staircases going up and down and doors more closely together. It was wide enough to fit ten men side by side, and tall enough to fit two men on top of each other. The windows in the ceiling were lying about the light. The plants were lying about the air.
Aino was motioning to him. He stared at her.
“The key,” she said.
He felt around at his pockets. Key?
There was a key in one of his pockets. She took it from his fingers and jammed it into the door, opening it up. She looked back at him, pocketing the key.
“Stay here and look out,” she said. He nodded, feeling the gun at his holster. She took a beat before she entered through the door, shutting it behind her.
He heard nothing but the blood pumping through his veins.
The light felt warm on his skin, even as the sweat on the back of his neck cooled. He touched the back of his head, feeling the salty liquid on this tips of his fingers.
He smelled blood.
No one was in the hall. They must be in some kind of residential section of the underground city. What city was it? Morshe? Was this where they were going to stay? Were they going to leave? What was Aino doing?
He glanced at the door she had entered. It was a solidly built door, made of a thick and dark looking wood. The handle was metal, shiny in places where hands had worn the coating. There was a covered slot attached to the door with some letters on it.
He leaned closer to read.
“Lim: Howard, Dagmar, Athelia, Dennis.”
He heard someone laugh loudly. He looked over at a couple of girls leaving an apartment and trot down the stairs. They were dressed similarly to him and Aino, with their hair tied back in a youthful style, both with dark hair curling behind them like tails. One of them glanced at him before descending. Her face was round and her eyes familiar.
She looked like Mari.
The girls disappeared in excited chatter, the door opened, and Aino appeared.
“What now?” He asked her, heaviness setting into his limbs.
Aino locked the door, pocketing the key. She led him back outside into the dark and dirt. Eien glanced back to see the door eclipse the inside light.
“Aino. I don’t…I want to stop for a while. Can we stop for a while somewhere?” He asked. She kept a brisk pace as she led him past some more buildings.
“I don’t mean that,” he said, remembering a familiar moment, “I mean I am reaching…I’m not…” He felt weary. There hadn’t been much rest for him. It was traveling, watching their backs, running, fighting. What…what was the point?
She led him to another building, and they entered. He kept shaking his head, trying to keep alert, but it was difficult to focus.
This building was similar but much more run down than the last one. There were cracks in the walls, garbage on the floors, and stains on the floor. A puddle of something left a sticky mess along the right side of the hallway. It smelt of sewage waste and cat, the latter being somewhat stronger than the former. Loud music was playing from one of the apartments. Yelling sounded from another, a man and a woman.
Aino led him down the stairs, down into the earth. She would pause every once in a while, turning her head up and down the long hallways. He would stand, shifting his weight, feeling the slowness of inaction start to set upon his limbs.
She finally settled on the eighteenth floor down, leading him to a nearby apartment with the name: Sorensen, Ford. Aino touched the lock, and Eien heard some loud pops before she swung open the door.
A horrid smell assaulted his nostrils, and he gagged.
Inside was the body of a man, already in the midst of decomposition, his body bloated and leaking fluids. He had died, sitting in his chair, with some kind of device on in front of him, still playing pictures and sounds.
“We can rest here?” he asked her. She set down her pack.
He collapsed by the front door, holding his face in his hands.