I woke up in a pile of ashes that had once been on my couch. What little that hadn’t been burned to nothing was black and smoldering. The line of small windows overlooking the alley was shattered and cool air rushed in, stirring the ash and smoke. Maybe there had been an explosion, and the memories of burning light were only a crazy fancy caused by a concussion or shock. That didn’t explain why I appeared to be completely unhurt, though. Even my clothes, though nearly black with ash, seemed untouched by the fire. The headache was just a memory, too. Considering the circumstances, I felt better than I had in a long time. Terrified and confused, lost everything I owned, but my mind was clearer than it had been in months. Maybe I should have given that a bit more thought.

At that moment, though, I was much too worried about where I was going to live and how I was going to eat and if the apocalypse had just started. My first thought as I pried open the ruined door and walked down the narrow stairwell was to go to the police. Oddly, that caused an irrational but strong desire to run away; away from my apartment, away from the smoke and the ash, just away. It was like a childish fear of the dark, like something was lurking in the shadows, just waiting and watching. Surely someone had heard what’d happened and notified the authorities already, anyway. Luckily, apart from a few scorch marks, it looked like the damage had been confined to my apartment. It would be best just to wait for the authorities outside on the street.

The bubble of fear in my chest didn’t lessen when I got outside. It was a surprise to see the sun setting. How long had I been out? The need to go, to run and hide got worse the longer I stood there, closer to true panic. I caught sight of my reflection in one of the downstairs windows. Saying I was a mess was far too kind. Ash and soot had turned my normally brown hair gray and made it stick out in odd places. My t-shirt and pink fuzzy pajama pants were streaked with dirt, and to make matters worse, I hadn't even bothered to put on shoes; my socks were just as filthy as the rest of me. I looked like the kind of person you cross the street to avoid. Surely the police would want to talk to me. They would want me to go places and talk to other people. I certainly couldn’t go like this! What if they thought I had something to do with all this? No one else’s apartment had blown up after all. I know I wouldn’t take myself seriously right then.

I wiggled my toes in my socks and sighed. Every stitch I owned was a steaming pile of ash now. But I kept a spare set of scrubs at the hospital and the hospital was only a few blocks away. I could pop in there, get cleaned up, and be back home in less than half an hour. The longer I stood there in front of my building, staring at myself in the window, the deeper the urge to go got. I was breathing hard by the time I heard faint sirens in the distance. That decided it. The police would understand if I wanted a change before making a statement. Of course they would. I did nothing wrong after all. So I turned away from my building and headed toward the hospital. I had no way of knowing it then, but I would not make it home again for a very long time.

Living in a big city has its advantages. If, say, you have to walk a few blocks looking like you’ve just come from a war zone, people don’t tend to mind much. There were surprisingly few people out on the streets for that time of evening. The few people I saw on the three-block walk quickly found other places to be when I got close. I didn’t blame them. It took a little longer than I expected, mostly because of having no shoes. There are a lot of things you don’t notice just lying about when you don’t have to. I made it to the hospital without stepping on anything worse than gum, and was feeling pretty good about it, when I realized my badge, the only way to get into the building unnoticed, was burnt to a crisp with everything else in my apartment. There was no way I could walk through the front door in my current state without attracting unwanted attention.

I walked another half a block to the loading dock and breathed a sigh of relief. The big bay doors were standing open and there was no one in sight. I ran for it but barely made it out of the storage area when I felt nauseous. By the time I’d made it to the main stairwell, I had to stop and catch my breath. I was no runner, but I wasn’t this out of shape. It felt like I had been running for days and had a stomach flu on top. I fought back the nausea and desire to lie down and started up to the third floor. The administration part of the building was empty at night, so I didn’t need to worry about running into anyone. By the time I made it to the right door, though, I was dripping sweat and close to passing out. Maybe I really had taken a hit to the head. I placed my head on the cool concrete wall and tried to catch my breath.

“Hey! Hey! Wake up”. It was an urgent whisper in my ear and it was annoying. Strong hands shook my shoulders. I opened my eyes and found I was still in the stairwell, but on the floor and there was a man kneeling next to me. I tried to get up, but my legs didn’t seem to agree to that and I just awkwardly flopped on the floor.

“Whoa, whoa. Take it easy.” He put a hand out to steady me, but I backed against the wall.

In my disorientation, he was pretty scary. Tall, taller than me by a few inches at least, and I was close to six feet, broad across the shoulders with enormous arms. He had a mess of thick sandy blond hair, big brown eyes, and a nose twice as wide as it should have been. He withdrew his hand quickly after my retreat and looked embarrassed.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry.” He continued to whisper, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ve been looking for you everywhere and when I found you on the floor... I thought you might not have made it through, you know?” He seemed genuinely worried.

“It’s... I’m fine. I just…” I stopped to take a breath. I really wanted to close my eyes again, but not with this brute hovering over me. “What do you mean you were looking for me? Made it though...? Who the hell are you?” I felt terrible, but my head was starting to clear.

He looked nervous as he scanned the dark hall. “Right now, what we need to do is get out of here. Can you stand up?”

“Yeah, I’m better.” I wasn’t really, but I would not let him know that. “But I’m not going anywhere with you. Look, I’ve had a pretty weird day. I appreciate you stopping to help, but I just need to get a change of clothes and go home. I’ll be fine.” I demonstrated by pushing away from the wall and locking my knees. It was the best I could do, and he didn’t look especially impressed. I was more likely to vomit on him than anything else, so I couldn’t really fault him.

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The corners of his mouth twitched. “A change of clothes wouldn’t be a bad idea. You look like hell.” He looked around the stairwell again and leaned closer. “But you’re going to want to stay with me. I’m not the only one looking for you, and I don’t think you’ll like the other guys much.” With that cryptic warning, he put out his hand again. “At least let me help you get those clothes. You can barely stand. Trust me. Please. I’ll explain everything once we’re safe.”

I didn't know what he was talking about, and he sounded more than a little crazy, but he was right. I was standing, but I wasn’t going anywhere without help. He didn’t seem to want to cause me harm and honestly, I couldn’t just stand in the hall waiting to pass out again. “Alright. Out this door and to the left, four doors down. That’s where I need to go.” He reached for me, but I took a shaky step back. “No offense, but it’ll look kind of strange you dragging a half dead nurse around admin. Just in case we run into someone, I need to walk on my own. You just try to block me as much as possible and look like you belong here.” He dropped his hand and nodded. I ran my fingers through my hair and grimaced. After that, I was too busy trying not to fall over to think about much else.

I’d worked in the administration offices of Franklin Memorial for three years and, in all that time, I had never been there after hours. That’s why I had taken the job to begin with: cake hours, holidays off, and very little patient contact. I had no idea what to expect when I opened the door, but was relieved to find the corridor dark and empty. We made our way to the correct door and quickly ducked inside. Switching on the overhead light, I walked down the row of ugly gray lockers. There was really no need to keep the spare clothes after moving to office work, but it had become a habit after working in other areas of the hospital. I pulled out a set of dark blue scrubs and slightly wrinkled socks, then began stumbling along the lockers, opening any I could find without locks. I found one with a pair of shoes that looked close to my size. Past the lockers was a heavy swinging door leading to a small bathroom, complete with shower.

“I’m going to go in here and change.” I motioned toward the heavy door. “I’ll only be a second.” He was still standing at the door leading to the main hallway with his face pressed to the small frosted window and didn’t turn to look at me. He looked tense. I figured it best to get changed and‌ leave as quickly as possible, maybe out a window of the bathroom. I flipped on the bathroom light and locked the door behind me. My intention was to just drop my old clothes, put on the new ones, and call it a night. But the shower was too appealing to pass up. I dropped the scrubs on a small table by the door and threw everything I was wearing in a pile against the wall before pulling back the heavy plastic curtain. I turned on the water and stepped in before it warmed up. It took a few minutes for the water pooling at my feet to turn from gray to almost clear, but it felt wonderful and the cold water helped the fatigue and nausea. I was done before the water got more than lukewarm and toweled off just as quickly. I felt stronger, still felt like I had the mother of all hangovers, but I wouldn’t be passing out before I made it back to the street. The shoes I’d found were a little too small and a hideous shade of green, but they would do until I could get better. I grabbed the bundle of old clothes and made for the door.

Just as I turned the handle, it was wrenched from my hand and I felt something heavy press against my face as the room went dark. Plunged into darkness with a smothering weight pressing on me, I panicked. I dropped the bundle and began scratching at the hand pressed over my mouth and kicking for the person who must be attached.

“Shhhh, Shit. Stop. It’s me.” He was talking fast, close to my face. “I had to wait for you to open the door. I was afraid they’d hear if I knocked.” He lowered his hand, but stayed close enough to me. I could feel his breath on my cheek. “Sorry. I had to make sure you were quiet. They’re searching this floor.” He moved away, and there was a sliver of light as he opened the door to peer into the outer room. The only light out there was from the small exit light over the door and the sickly orange of the halogen street lights outside. It must have been enough, because he opened the door a little wider and stepped out. After a moment, he came back and silently motioned for me to follow.

I had questions, but his nervous behavior was infectious, so I stayed quiet and followed close behind him. I didn’t know who he was, but the boogie man in the dark felt far worse. We made our way past the rows of lockers to the main door. He stopped again to look out the small window in the door. The hallway outside was just as poorly lit as the room we were in. He turned back to me and bent low.

“Is there another way out other than the main stairwell?” He asked.

“Just the elevator, as far as I know.”

“No, too slow. No back way, service entrance?”

“There’s a fire exit at the other end of the hall. It leads straight down to the front entrance, but it’s hooked up to an alarm.”

He looked thoughtful and turned back to the door. “I heard them pass, but I don’t know if they’re still on this floor.” His breath fogged the bubbled window before as he looked out again. “You’re lucky they don’t have someone like me.”

I very much wanted to know what that meant and I opened my mouth to ask, but he held up a hand, took a deep breath, and leaned over again. “We’re going to make for the fire exit. The alarms might actually help us get out of here.” He glanced back toward the window. “I don’t know the way, so you’ll have to go first. When I open the door, go quietly but as quickly as you can. I’ll be right behind you. Don’t stop until you’re outside.”

Sure, just follow the crazy guy you met five minutes ago past the scary people who may or not actually exist. Shit. For all I knew, he was making it all up, was seriously deranged, and he was the one I should run from. What was he doing wandering around the hospital at night anyway. I looked into his worried face and my gut told me to trust. I just was scared enough to go with it. I nodded and, heart pounding, got ready to run.

Running quietly in shoes a size too small, after getting out of a shower in the dark, is perhaps the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life. I was so distracted by the noise I was making I barely had a chance to worry about how close, or even if, my companion was following. I kept moving to the far end of the hall. When I reached the fire door, I chanced a glanced back and my heart nearly stopped. He was motioning frantically with both arms for me to go on, but over his shoulder, at the far end of the corridor, I could see three dark figures coming fast. They were only silhouettes lit from the distant streetlights, but they were definitely moving with purpose, and that purpose seemed to be stopping us. That was all I could tell before I pushed through the fire doors and things went from crazy to outright insane.