It wasn't long before the creatures outside the saferoom gave up. From the camera, it looked like they all just stopped in unison before chittering amongst themselves. Then they all just ran out of sight of the camera, and I assume back up the stairs, in search of easier targets.

Done with the monitor, I turned my attention to the interior hoping to find a solution to the whole giant-spike-in-leg problem facing the other person inside.

The safehouse was small, barely being able to hold ten people even if they were crammed inside like sardines. Despite the lack of space, it was well provisioned with food, water, and medical supplies. There was even a gun locker in the corner; something to check out once my more immediate concerns were taken care of.

For now, I moved to the first aid kit. Inside were all the usual things, gauze, dressings, cough pills, etc. But it also had a few things that I definitely didn't recognize: something labeled general necrophage cure, a canister full of bio-foam, and dozens of other small things. Taking the kit off the wall, I moved back over to the woman.

"I'm going to take care of this wound now, ok?"

She nodded with a grimace.

"My name's Ezra, what's yours?"

As she spoke I started laying out the various items I was going to need. I knew my way around dressing a wound, that much was obvious, but I certainly wasn't a doctor. I hoped this attack would be over soon, she clearly needed more help than I could give.

"I'm E-Emily," she stuttered.

I had laid out everything I thought I would need: gauze, bandages, morphine, water, and something called a STEM injection. The label said it was best used for large wounds, and this certainly applied.

"Ok Emily, I'm going to remove the shard soon. I need you to stay as still as possible, you got that?"

Another nod.

I had already injected her with the morphine, so now the hard part began. I reached down and gave the crystal an experimental pull. A pained moan emanated through the room, but the crystal had moved, which meant it probably wasn't barbed.

"Ok Emily on three. One... Two-"

I pulled the crystal out as hard as I could. It slid through the wound with only minor resistance, but there wasn't enough morphine in the world to stop something like that from hurting.

Ignoring the heart-wrenching scream that pierced through the chamber, I poured some water through the wound, placed the gauze on either side, and started wrapping her thigh in bandages. All told the procedure probably took about thirty seconds, but it sure as hell felt a lot longer.

I looked back to Emily's face, about to try reassuring her some more, but she was asleep. Passed out from the pain, I guess, probably for the best anyways.

I got up, using the rest of the water to wash the blood off of my hands. I decided to start rummaging through the various shelves and containers. There wasn't anything interesting, just food, water, and other essential items. I did manage to find a few pillows and blankets which I gave to Emily.

Done with the boring stuff, I moved over to the gun locker. Surprisingly, it wasn't locked, not that I cared, gun safety was the least of my concerns at the moment. The majority of the stash consisted of the same 1911 that was already tucked into my pocket, but it wasn't all disappointment.

There were three spare magazines and two extra boxes of ammo, all of which I took. But the thing that really brought a smile to my face was the pump-action shotgun at the top. I wasted no time pulling that out, as well as its two associated boxes of shells.

There was nothing else in the bunker, so I sat down against the wall opposite to the entrance where I could keep an eye on both the monitor and Emily. I decided I would stay here for at least a few more hours if there wasn't anything happening by the time daylight hit I would leave.

Done loading the shotgun and the magazines, I put the spare ammo into one of the pockets in my jacket. Then, with the shotgun lying across my lap, I put my head back and tried to relax. I had at least six hours to kill here, and I desperately needed sleep before I went back outside. It wasn't long before I found it

----------------------------------------

There were people outside the door; they were talking in hushed voices but made no move to enter. It was almost eight in the morning now, and I had slept longer than I intended to, but at least I felt refreshed.

The people on the monitor were soldiers, two males who had splotches of blood over their uniforms. One of them was gesticulating wildly at the other. Curious what was going on, I put my ear to the door.

"-one job, Mike. How in the hell did you forget the code?"

"It's been three months, man. Would you remember something like that for three months?"

"What do you propose we do then? Just go back and say 'well we couldn't open the thing so we have no clue if anybody's alive. Whoops.'"

I pulled my head away from the door, I was tempted to see how long they would stand there and argue before trying to knock, but I wasn't in the mood to stay in this confined space for that much longer. Instead, I moved over to Emily trying to wake her up.

Turns out she didn't need my help because she was already sitting upright amid all the pillows I had placed around her. If it wasn't for the blood-stained bandages it would have been almost comical.

"Seems like the rescue team is here," I started. "You need anything before we go?"

"Some painkillers would be nice."

When it wasn't infected by pain her voice seemed much less timid, and her body language as a whole implied a level of confidence that wasn't present last night. I supposed that was good, but what did I know? A psychologist I was not.

I rummaged through the medkit and pulled out a bottle of painkillers and grabbed a bottle of water off the shelf before tossing both of them to her. When she had downed them I offered my hand and pulled her up.

Supporting her much the same way as I had done last night, we walked over to the door. While we were waiting for the door to unlock Eily suddenly decided to speak.

"Thanks."

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

Her voice had suddenly regained that almost delicate quality from before. Only now instead of being tinged with fear, there was humility and a bit of nervousness that I decidedly didn't like.

"For what? The pain meds? Don't mention it."

I knew what she was talking about of course, but I didn't really feel like I deserved whatever praise she wanted to give me. I had entertained the thought of leaving her to die, being thanked for it didn't really sit right with me.

She stammered, trying to correct me, but then the door opened and she became quiet again. Mike and his angry friend had stopped bickering when they heard the sounds of the vault door unlocking. Now they came in, holding rifles in front of themselves.

When they saw us, they lowered their weapons and Mike came over to help me with Emily.

"Schmidt," Mike spoke addressing his partner, "go tell Sarge we got two live ones down here... and don't mention anything about the code."

The one named Schmidt turned and ran down the hallway while Mike and I half-carried half-dragged Emily down the hallway. I was able to keep my shotgun my holding it in an underhanded grip in my off-hand, though if they were looking for survivors I doubted I needed it. As we walked I asked Mike about what had happened last night.

He told me that a mercenary group had kited around a hundred of the crystalloids out of the Dome by accident. Most of them were wiped out as they left the Dome, but a dozen or so had made it all the way to the base. Last he checked at least twenty people in the base alone were dead and there were dozens more who had been stationed along the outside of the Dome.

When I asked him if any of the crystalloids had gotten away he told me that it was impossible to say, but he wouldn't have been surprised if patrols found them lurking in the woods for days to come.

When we got back out of the lab I was able to see the full extent of the damage. Most of the buildings were completely fine, some had busted windows and doors or black spikes sticking out of the walls, but were otherwise untouched. If only the same could be said for the people.

There were dozens of body bags lined up outside the barracks, and as I watched another corpse was pulled from inside and sealed up. There was also a fire in the middle of the street, where the bodies of the crystalloids were being dumped and unceremoniously burned.

Mike led us over to the hospital and left us standing there at the entrance before running off somewhere. With the help of one of the nurses, I was able to get Emily to a bed where I was promised she would receive care. I left the room quickly, eager to get out before I was put into another awkward conversation with Emily.

I went back to my apartment and changed out of the bloodstained clothes I was wearing and making a silent promise to take the time to wash my jacket. Abandoning the shotgun in my room, I went back out to help see if I could help with the recovery efforts.

----------------------------------------

Most of the day was spent in the barracks, helping the soldiers move corpses and clean up viscera. By the end of the day, the final casualty count was well into the hundreds, and of those seventy were dead.

I found Fred a few hours after starting to help, laying in a common room in a pool of his own blood. If it wasn't for the fact his head was only a few feet away I don't think I would have recognized him. At that point, I was so deadened to the carnage that I barely reacted to him, he was just another body to move. But later when I had a break the emotion caught up to me.

I had barely known him, but that didn't change the fact I had talked to him just a day ago. It made his death a lot more real, I guess. It also put into perspective what I was doing. Every body hauled was a person who had been alive just hours ago, every ounce of blood cleaned had just recently been flowing through someone's veins. I guess it just showed how thin the line between life and death was in a place like this.

The day passed quickly, and soon there was nothing left to do but clean. I helped for a bit but eventually, I just stopped. I was tired of looking at all the blood, stepping in it, trying not to gag on its coppery stench. I was under no obligation to help after all, and no one cared when I turned in my mop and left.

Dinner was being served so I went to the mess first, but when I got there I realized that I was in no mood to eat. Instead, I went back to my apartment and started preparing. I had no interest in staying here in this place of death. I decided I would leave to tomorrow, all I was missing was the passport Fred had mentioned.

That was the plan then, grab the passport and leave immediately afterward. I didn't know where I was going or even how long it would take to get there, all I knew was that I couldn't stay here.

A knock on the door interrupted my ruminating. I got up from sitting on the bed and meandered over to the door. It dark out again and as far as I knew there was no reason for anyone to come and see me. Emily was standing at the door holding a bottle in one hand and a cardboard box in the other, and unlike last night she was fully clothed.

I stood in the doorway, stupefied, for a few seconds before she spoke.

"Are you going to let me in or are you going to make the person with the injured leg stand here all night?"

She was being sarcastic, but I still rushed to get out of her way, mumbling a half-apology as I went. With a light laugh, she moved inside before making herself at home at the small table that lived in the entranceway. Following her, I sat down across the table. There was a brief awkward moment of silence that I was hesitant to break. Fortunately, Emily broke it for me.

"I never got to thank you for the whole saving my life thing, so I guess this is me doing it. So, as a little gesture of my appreciation, I brought drinks."

She emphasized her statement by pulling out the bottle I had noticed earlier as well as two shot glasses. While she poured the alcohol I tried to stammer out some form of thank you.

"Thank me? I should be thanking you. A little shit-tasting alcohol doesn't even begin to cover how much I owe you. So quit trying to thank me and drink."

She shoved a full glass into my hands before downing her own. Following suit, I threw back my glass and downed the alcohol. She was right, it wasn't the best thing I had ever tasted, but the burn was pleasant.

"Look," I began, "the gift is appreciated don't get me wrong, but this really isn't necessary."

She laughed again, a laugh that was ebullient and merry, starkly contrasting the events of the night before.

"Of course it's not necessary, but it makes me feel better, besides I haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet."

As she spoke I realized that she seemed in way too good of a mood for someone who had been looking at death yesterday. That combined with the slight slur in her speech told me more than enough about how she had spent the last hour. I gave the mental equivalent of a shrug as I poured myself another shot. She probably had the right idea anyway.

She had bent down and reached into the box when she came back up there was a familiar black crystal in her hands.

"I'm sure you recognize this. What you might not know is that this small piece is worth at least a couple hundred dollars."

She handed me the crystal before moving back to the box which she pulled up onto the table.

"Well, I managed to claim scavenger's rights on the three you killed so now you have enough of the stuff to make a full set of body armor or sell for tens of thousands of dollars."

My jaw dropped to the floor, stunned. It took a second for my brain to process everything she said, caught up as it was, on the whole, I'm fucking rich part, but when it did I realized something was off.

"Wait did you say three, but I only-"

She cut off my words with a shushing noise before flashing me a conspiratory wink. I understood the implied message pretty clearly: shut up and enjoy the gift. So, instead of pressing further, I took another shot.

"How would you like to make that much every month?"

I almost choked on the alcohol when I heard that. Who the hell was this woman who could just hand me tens of thousands of dollars without so much as a blink, and then offer me even more?

"Look, I appreciate the offer, but I can't just take that as a gift."

"Oh, the job's not a gift; it's recruitment. You performed remarkably well under pressure, and I know for a fac your skillset would be extremely appreciated."

As she talked she had begun to lean over the table like she was trying to tell me some great secret.

"I thought you said you worked here at a lab?" I asked.

"That was a temporary affair, New Philadelphia managed to acquire a live specimen from the Dome a few weeks ago. One of my favorite hobbies is examining the fauna produced by the Dome, so when I heard about it I had no choice but to visit. Besides, it's not like they were in a position to say no."

That was cryptic, to say the least, but she didn't seem willing to elaborate. However, I was to say I was interested would have been an understatement. Leaning forward over the table as she had, I told her as much.

"Glad to hear it," she replied. "I can't go into specifics until you've agreed to the job, but I will say its dangerous, well paying, and you can start as early as tomorrow."

I hesitated at the word dangerous. Considering the only skillset of mine she had seen was me killing stuff, this job was looking a bit less promising. I glanced at the shot glass in my hand. I probably wasn't in the best state to make life-changing decisions.

"Can I think about it? Give you an answer tomorrow?"

She frowned at that, probably expecting me to agree right away.

"Afraid this offer expires when I walk out the door. I'm leaving tomorrow morning, I need to know if you're coming."

I was probably going to regret making a decision while inebriated, but it didn't look like I had much of a choice. I decided that I would at least try to make an educated decision, even if I would probably say yes in the end.

"Can you at least give me a bit more to go on? If I'm going to work for you I need to know what I'm doing."

"You'll be inside the Dome mostly, maybe doing some work out of it, but that's rare. You won't be working for me though; in case it wasn't obvious I'm not accustomed to fieldwork. I'm much happier in a lab."

That sounded good enough for me. I had already considered going back to the Dome, even if it wasn't serious consideration. Besides, if it didn't work out I could always quit.

"Consider me hired."

"Welcome to the Hundred and First."

She punctuated the sentence by offering me her hand, which I shook. Her grip was surprisingly strong, despite her lithe frame.

"Your first job starts tomorrow, you'll be acting as my bodyguard until I return up North. My last one... lost his head for such things."

An uncomfortable feeling settled in my stomach, what the hell had I gotten myself into.

"Now that we're done with that, I have two more things to discuss. First, you can keep the weapons you stole; I've paid for them and you can consider them part of your hiring bonus. And Second," she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small plastic card, "this is your New Philadelphia ID card. I took the liberty of passing all of your physicals."

The card was similar to a driver's license or passport, but instead of my picture it just had a flag I didn't recognize.

Name: Ezra

Hair: Blonde

Eye Color: Purple

Height: 163cm (5' 6")

Ethnicity: Caucasian

City of Emigration: Los Angeles (March 24-31, 2020)

Date of Birth: c1995

Additional Info: Type A Amnesia

The card was basic and didn't tell me anything I didn't already know, though it did remind me I needed to find a mirror at some point. However, there was something that didn't quite make sense.

"How did you get this?" I asked. "Shouldn't I be the only person who can claim this?"

Emily had already stood up at this point and was getting ready to leave. When she heard my question she flashed me an almost predatory grin.

"It's easy to get around all kinds of things like that if you grease the right wheels, especially in a backwater country like this.

Be ready to leave tomorrow morning, we have a few days of travel ahead, so I hope you don't mind long car rides."

With that, she left, and I was alone once more. Well, I still had the booze. As I reached for the bottle, ignoring the shot glass completely, some important revelation bumped against the fringe of my consciousness. By the time I reached for it, however, the alcohol had already washed it away.