One of them sniffed at the air, its lips peeled back from long fangs that glinted a wicked white in the torchlight. She caught a glimpse of the supine forms the creatures surrounded. One of the unmoving bodies wore jeans and sneakers. Another wore a pencil-thin skirt and a single high-heeled pump, the other foot sadly bare.
“Oohhh,” Melly whispered. “Shit.”
As more of the creatures turned to look at her and sniff the air, they let out a collective sigh. “Aaaaahhhh.”
One stood upright and took a step toward her.
Whirling, she flicked on her flashlight and ran.
Panic lent her wings. From behind, she heard growls and snarling, and the sounds of many feet hitting the hard, cold floor, as the group of creatures gave chase.
Creatures. Vampyres.
Only they were Vampyres like Melly had never seen before. Stripped of civilized courtesies, cleanliness or manners, they were bestial and feral.
Forget the rough floor, or going carefully.
If you fall, you’re dead, Melly. So don’t you fucking fall.
The beam of light from the flashlight she clenched in one fist flashed wildly. Her breath sawed in her throat, and the abused muscles in her injured leg flared with pain as she pushed her body as hard as she could.
Across the corridor. Left at the fork. Then left again. They sounded closer. How close were they? She didn’t dare look behind her. It would slow her down.
There, up ahead, was the barred door at the opening of the cellblock tunnel, propped open with the rock. She leaped at it.
Wonder of wonders, she still had the jug of water and packet of food under one arm. Taking the end of the small flashlight between her teeth, she grabbed the door and hauled it shut with a loud clang. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of the horde just yards away. Please gods, let the closed door buy her a few more seconds.
Whirling, she pelted down the tunnel and lunged into her cell. All the cell doors opened inward. Letting the water and food fall where it would, she slammed the door shut, yanked out her makeshift lock pick and with shaking fingers dug into the lock.
Please please please please.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could just barely see down to the tunnel’s end. The feral Vampyres clawed the tunnel gate open and raced toward her.
She gave the pick in the lock a final, desperate twist. Even as the tumbler inside the lock turned, the piece of hairpin bent.
Sobbing, she threw herself backward as the Vampyres reached her cell and tried to snatch her through the bars. Claws raked down her left forearm, and she stumbled and fell. Jarred from her teeth, the flashlight bounced along the floor. The thin, cold beam of light flashed over fangs, arms straining toward her between the bars of the cell door, and bloody, distorted faces.
There were so many of them. Dozens, well over a hundred.
Over the sound of the Vampyre’s snarling, she became aware of the high, almost inaudible whimpering sound she made as she tried to catch her breath, and she made herself stop. Rolling stiffly onto her hands and knees, she gathered together the water jug, the food packet, and the flashlight.
She had dropped the bent piece of hairpin, but she didn’t bother to look for it. It had fallen somewhere too close to the cell door and those deadly, groping hands. If the Vampyres wandered off, she could look for it then and see if it was salvageable.
Clutching her meager possessions, she scooted backward until her shoulder blades connected to the wall opposite the cell door. Then she slid along the wall sideways until she reached a corner. It didn’t give her any more distance or safety from the Vampyres, but she needed to brace herself against the steadiness of the two walls.
After she set down her supplies, she crawled over to the cot, grabbed one end and dragged it to her corner. It was probably made from aluminum, and it was as lightweight and flimsy as it looked. It bounced along the floor until she reached her corner again.
She flashed the light over the Vampyres still straining to reach her. Unlike the cheap cot, the cell door was strong and heavy, and it held solid against their combined weight.
Halle-fucking-lujah.
She grabbed the scratchy, wool blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. Upending the cot onto its side, she pulled it close until the ends connected with the walls of her corner, and she sat inside the triangle it made.
Childish? Possibly. Certainly it didn’t serve any better purpose other than giving her the thinnest of fragile psychological barriers to hide behind, but hey, it had been a truly rotten night, and right now she would take any positives she could lay her hands on.
Patting the edge of the cot, she took several deep breaths.
Then she turned off her flashlight. It was even more important to conserve the batteries as much as possible now.
She did end up getting an answer to one question. Now she knew where she was.